Wandering

 I’m not lost. I’m just wandering.

There is something to be said for living life without an anchor. By which I mean, living without anything to hold you down to one place, one job, one style of life, one set of friends.

It’s sometimes frightening to be so unleashed, of course. To find yourself flung into the GREAT UNKNOWN without any idea of where you are going to land. But the hard facts of life mean that no one, not even the most rooted and grounded and anchored person with a pension and a 401K actually knows what is going to happen next. It’s just the illusion of safety to think that what you have now you will still have tomorrow or even in 5 minutes.

Wandering is the ability to throw off those illusions and simply face the uncertainty head on. It’s a little bit like an adrenaline rush, but more than that it is a fantastic exercise in faith…a trust fall of epic proportions.

I suppose I ought to clarify that I’m not truly without any anchor. The hope I have in Christ is a rock-solid foundation that I can anchor into even while I’m wandering (Hebrews 6:19). It’s like true north on a compass. No matter where I wander, I’m not lost, and I never will be. So I don’t have to fear the uncertainty. I can embrace change and wildness and even a worldwide pandemic without losing myself or losing sight of what is important.

I know it isn’t truly feasible for some, and that others wander entirely unintentionally. However, if it is ever possible for you to do so, if ever you come across a chance where you think “if only I had time off” or “someday I’d really like to” and you feel that pull in your chest like your being drawn somewhere even though it doesn’t make sense, I say go. I mean, pray about it first. Don’t just jump off a bridge without looking. But go as often as you can. 

Learn new things. Meet new people. Experience new cultures.

Love God Always, first and last and forever.

Wander.

Because

2020 became the year where the words ‘because Covid’ explained everything from chaos and fear to widespread shutdowns, illness, overtime or lack of employment, distance learning and the inability to get a decent haircut. In the course of a few weeks, the entire world changed. The structure and fabric of society warped in new ways, and humans did not approve. Because…Covid.

It’s a phrase that explains the change, separating the normal and expected from everything that followed over the course of the last 12 months.

It occurs to me that we can take a lesson from this. After all, as Christians, we’ve encounter another entirely life-changing event, one that can really be summed up by a similar phrase ‘because Jesus.’ And like the previous phrase, we should be able to note radical change in our lives, our homes, the way we do things, how we work, and even what we spend our money on…because Jesus.

This idea isn’t really a new one, but in the current context, I found it particularly poignant when it reached me.

Because Jesus came to earth as man and God, because he is light and love and life, because Jesus loves me, because he died to annihilate death, because he is alive and I’m forgiven…Because Jesus.

Imagine someone saying: This guy at work was so rude, but I was kind to him anyway…you know, because Jesus.

Or: I don’t really want to get involved with the underprivileged, it will take up so much time, but, because Jesus, I think I’ll do it anyway.

Just a thought, but if we started thinking in this way instead of underling everything that we’ve lost or been separated from in the last year, we just might find that we haven’t lost what’s important after all.

Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you. 

- Ephesians 4:32

Kings, Countries, and Christmas

Kings, Countries, and Christmas

It’s coming around to that time of year where everyone turns to thoughts of gift giving and generosity. This isn’t simple coincidence. It is a direct link to the holiday that gives the season its name; a holiday that has in many ways been twisted and perverted by commercialism to gain as much revenue as possible. And yet beneath all the trappings, commercials, decorations, and treats there remains the idea of something strange and amazing happening. There clings to the days a sense of magic and wonder in what would otherwise be considered the bleakest of seasons, and it is this wonder and awe that inspires gifts freely given to family and strangers alike.

The wonder is that Emmanuel came into the world. That the spaceless and timeless God fit himself into a mortal body to live in this place of dirt and famine, wars and intrigue. Many people have quit social media sites because the burden of dealing with other people’s unfiltered opinions and emotions causes to much strain for a health life. And God, who is apart, who is holy, who is perfect, chose to immerse himself in that humankind. He didn’t do it for the amusing qualities of mankind. He did it to save us.

To anyone who has celebrated the advent before or attended Sunday school, this is not new information. In some cases, it may even be a bit tarnished and drab with unimaginative retelling. But that isn’t the point I’m going after here.

My point is that God came into the world to save men from the destruction they wrought with their own hands. Everything we have, from the next heartbeat to the homes we live in and our families are from God. We own nothing. It seems natural then to give away what we have at this time of year, as a sort of offering, and nod in the direction of the one who makes life possible.

And then… what?

Do we go back on December 26^th to protesting immigration, to wishing that the homeless wouldn’t set up their tents in our towns, to spouting caustic opinions about how right we are and how wrong others are?

Deuteronomy 10:18-19 “He [God] executes justice for the orphan and the widow and shows His love for the alien by giving him food and clothing. So show your love for the alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt.”

Unless I’m much mistaken, this verse doesn’t apply to a particular time of year. This is a direction for how to treat people… all the time. But what if we allow people into our country, our city, our lives that don’t believe as we do? What if crime rates go up? What if we have to pay more taxes to support them? What if, what if. There’s no end to the possibilities. And none of them matter because what we have isn’t ours. This country, no matter who runs it or what the economy looks like, isn’t ours any more than Babylon belonged to Daniel or Nebuchadnezzar. Our jobs, our land, our food, our money, our healthcare: they aren’t ours. And until we acknowledge that, Christmas and all its wonder is going to remain inextricably linked to this one season and the rush of holiday shopping; that one day, shared with a man in a red suit; and fit into a neat little box so it can’t effect the rest of our lives and the rest of the world.

“Self-righteous religion is always marked by insensitivity to issues of social justice, while true faith is marked by profound concern for the poor and marginalized” (Keller, 2018, p 61).

Rather than worrying about what we could lose, I would love to see us separate ourselves from the individual mindset so popular in the West and start to think about what others could gain. What if we gave up some of our prejudice and worked with people on the other side who wanted to help people? What if we stopped letting the media or the politicians draw our lines for us? What if we refused to be separated from the work that God gave us?

What if Advent wasn’t just these few weeks in December, but a year-long recognition of the fact that Jesus Christ has in fact arrived and is working here still?

Keller, T. (2018) The Reason for God. New York, New York: Penguin Random House LLC.

Worth Dying For?

I was listening to a podcast the other day (It’s called Dan Carlin’s Hardcore History, and if you have any interest at all in human nature or war history, I would highly recommend it). At the beginning of the very first episode I listened to, he asked the question “What would you die for?” 

As this is a fairly typical question, echoed in other forms as ‘until you know what you would die for, you’re not really living’ and so on, it is something that I’ve thought about in since I was a teenager. This contemplation was also probably sparked around the time of the Columbine shootings. As a teenager, the things on my list were straightforward and idealistic. The first three items, for instance, would have been something like: Faith, Family and Freedom. It could’ve been one of those rustic country signs that are so popular for fans of Magnolia Farms. And the things on that list are pretty standard. They are also extremely vague.

As a sidenote, I rather romantically wanted to add Love to that list, but even as a teenager, I never was that romantic. I mean, what is the point of being in love if one of you is going to die right away? That loved and lost stuff is nonsense. Anyway, moving on…

As I’ve grown older, I’ve come to recognize, at least to a point, that I couldn’t possibly know the truth of what I’d be willing to die for unless I was put in the position of actually dying for it. This has nothing to do with bravery or even, I think, resolve, as the brain has an amazingly selfish desire for self-preservation. Some circumstances might make it possible for me to give up my life, but I don’t know if throwing myself into a hail of bullets in order to protect someone, or something, would actually be possible. For example, I was in Guatemala when someone lit a string of firecrackers outside the women’s bathroom, where I was showering. I was crouched down on the tile floor before I even really registered what the noise was.

Currently, I suppose my list would be much like many people’s. It’s a little less vague, but not much more developed. I would die to protect members of my family, or rather than renouncing my faith, and I’m certain there are cases where I would die rather than submit to some form of evil ideology. There are other circumstances as well that are harder to define. I was willing to die when I went to work in Iraq. To be honest, something of the danger made that trip that much more exciting, and I don’t know exactly what made that choice so clear to me. In the normal course of the day, I’m not willing to die in order to do my job. But then again, it isn’t normally asked nor expected either.

So think about it for a moment. Wherever you are in life, whatever is most important to you at this time, what would you considering worth dying for?

After you’ve thought about it and made your list, here is the follow up question that he asked, which intrigued me even more. Having already thought about this second question before I wrote the section above may have changed my own answer to the first questions by proxy. It was just that powerful. His second question was this: What happens when the things on your list clash? In other words, what things on your list would you sacrifice to protect other things on your list?

For example, if you say you would die for freedom, what would you sacrifice in order to secure that freedom? What if it wasn’t just your life you were risking in your fight? What if your choice to fight put your family in danger, or made them exiles? Would you sacrifice your home and your family’s lives for that same freedom that you would risk your own life to protect?

At what point, do the items on your first list begin to outweigh one another, and at what point do you draw the line?

This made me think. As Americans we are obsessed with the idea of freedom. Everyone’s freedom looks different, which makes it hard to pin down, and that’s why I call it an idea rather than a fact. In America, we have freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom to act as we want, to travel where we want, to live where we want, freedom in person and in business, to the point that the idea of dying for freedom is sort of a national catchphrase. But what would I sacrifice to keep say my freedom to choose my own profession? If the alternative was a life in prison, or financial punishment, or consequences for my family, would I be willing to fight the idea that the government could tell me where and how I should work? Would I be willing to lose my life just so I can work where I want? I think not.

And that is where it becomes especially interesting. Because freedom, in the modern age, is unlikely to be lost all at once. Unless we were to be taken over by a neighboring country, say Canada suddenly decided to invade and enslave all Americans. In that case, all freedom would be at risk and fighting and dying would seem a reasonable alternative to simply watching the world be overturned. Also the amount of emotion and turmoil in such an invasion would fire up those sentiments of ‘live free or die’. But what if the world is overturned slowly? That’s harder to imagine, because it’s nearly impossible to visualize what the grinding away of any one aspect of freedom looks like and the course it will take. It’s harder still to make a particular stand and draw a certain line when you aren’t entirely sure if it is worth upsetting the status quo. To make it slightly easier, take for example, the idea that one day freedom of speech is taken away all by itself. People would be outraged, certainly, but is that one simple piece of freedom something I personally would be willing to die for all on its own? Are there more important things? And if so, what are they?

Living without the freedoms we have today would be unpleasant, and more so by comparison to our current state, but it would not be impossible. Of the freedoms that exist today, I believe that only the freedom of religion is one that I would fight for with all my heart. That is certainly something I would die for. One of the worst things I’ve heard about North Korea at this time is that parents who are secretly Christians never share their faith with their children for fear of either being reported by them, or of putting them in danger themselves. I don’t want to judge them in the least, but it makes me extremely sad, because I know that those children are in far greater danger if they don’t know Christ. Fear the one who, as they say, who can destroy the soul.

Of course, all of this is only speculation. And there is a difference between fighting and dying for a cause, and living and suffering for that same cause. Death is easy. Suffering, however, gives ample opportunity for one to change their mind.

All this in the podcast was in the context of what he called the “Celtic Holocaust”, or the destruction of the Gauls by Julius Ceasar. The Gauls, amid a whole mess of historic points that you’ll have to listen to the podcast to learn about, decided that fighting Rome was better than living under Roman rule. And Rome absolutely annihilated them, destroying not only the men who stood against the Romans, but starving out all the people and utterly destroying their way of life.

So I ask you again, what is worth dying for? And what is worth losing everything for?

The Instagram Perspective

A snippet from the Instagram Welcome email reads like this:

“Share your perspective by capturing and sharing photos and videos from your day, whether it’s your morning routine or the trip of a lifetime"

On the face of it, the words are accurate. You are in fact literally sharing your perspective by showing whoever happens to be following you what you are seeing… or what you want them to see. But the previous statement also has the implied promise that if people see what you see they will feel what you feel.

Is it actually true?

Certainly I appreciate pictures of clear blue waters that show up on my feed from my coworkers vacations. But do I actually know what it is to be there in the sun and the sand? Or does it instead inspire a sometimes vague and sometimes less so sense of envy and discontent? There have been multiple articles in the recent past that suggest it is very much the latter.

Why then do we continue to use such technology?

Because when it all boils down to it we do, very much, want people to feel what we feel, to share our perspective of the world if even for a brief moment, because in that sharing we feel that we ourselves might become known.

And there is very little knowing going on in current culture. I was fortunate to have grown up before the technology boom and can therefore survive for several hours and sometimes even days at a time without my phone or indeed any electronic devices.

But I’ve recently run into a problem. While I am perfectly capable, judging by past relationships and ongoing friendships, of starting and maintaining a conversation, the people around me are growing less and less capable of providing the other side of such a conversation.

I spent the last two days at a leadership conference here in Rochester. It was at a location that I’d never visited before, and the only person I knew there was my brother, who came as my guest.

The first day, the only people who deigned to talk to us were the greeters, and one random pastor that I met in the lunch line. Even the people sitting at our lunch table were entirely involved in their own conversation and their phones, so much so that they didn’t even say hello. At a leadership conference.

I would like to point out here that there is a certain amount of humorous irony in that.

The second day I made the extra effort to strike up conversations during the meal, and I was rewarded with a tepid stream of basic facts that wound down into painful silence. Once we were the past the where are you from and what do you do part of the questions, no one seemed willing to go any farther. Why?

Personally, I was tired of trying to draw out even the dullest facts. Small talk is a tapeworm to my soul. It’s all well and good if you have to talk to someone in the grocery line, but it isn’t meant to last any longer than that. After that you have to have something else to say, something of substance and value.

Unfortunately, many such topics have at this point been ruled politically incorrect. Taking the risk of mentioning anything of gravity opens you up to all sorts of possible vehement and critical responses. Of course, you might also have the nice surprise of finding that the other person agrees with you. Or you might have the even better surprise of discovering that they don’t, and are still able to discuss their opinion with you in a manner both respectful and casual.

And that, dear reader, is what actual perspective sharing is about. Listening. Learning. Talking. Thinking. Not necessarily agreeing, but considering with grace and respect.

This is not something that can be captured in a photo or selfie, no matter what the current exchange rate of words/photography.

It isn’t something that is being taught in our schools, our universities, or our churches. I failed to mention this was a Christian leadership conference and therefore much of the normal fear of being shot down shouldn’t even have come into play.

And yet…

Could I have started something more serious myself? Certainly. Do I have a truly good excuse for not bringing up some facet of the day’s teaching and gathering opinions? An excuse, no. But an understanding as to why I didn’t. Yes. Conversation, any kind of conversation that goes deeper than the shallow subjects of one’s number of children and current career path, requires at least a modicum of interest in having a conversation to be shown on both sides. If even getting you to say hello is like pulling teeth, no one is likely to want to sit down for a nice chat about the current theological/political climate, or the state of the gender wars.

Sharing perspective is important. It is vital for communication that moves people forward. And it is dying, if not already dead and cremated, because this rich tool that, properly wielded, can bring together diverse people from cultures and countries around the world has been substituted for something no thicker than a single moment captured on a digital print that will itself vanish in 25 hours.

On America

It’s Independence Day in small town USA. The country pride is high.

Outside my window, fireworks crack the sky open. I think of mortars falling, of distant and not-so-distant gunfire. Of countries where there is no such thing as independence. And I think that America is great. I also think that it has grown so great that it no longer remembers why this holiday is so important.

Americans like tout the word freedom as if it is the secret pass-phrase into a superhero hideout. We celebrate ourselves as victorious heroes who overcame great odds, but the truth is that, for a very long time, this country has not known what it is not to be free. It has forgotten what it is to be small, powerless, beleaguered and belittled. It has forgotten the days when those flashes and that rumbling were made by cannon and muskets of enemy forces coming across the fields. More importantly, it has forgotten why those battles were fought in the first place. Those revolutionary battles were not fought to give us a birthright to luxury, but to give people the chance to strive for a better life.

One would think that a better life would make a better kind of people, more gracious, kinder. But separation from hardship has inured this nation to freedom. The desperate huddled masses are forgotten apart from a few media feeding frenzies if they get the proper pathetic photo or have the right political slant for the day.

 Consequently, the days of expansive welcome that inspired the poem “The New Colossus” to be placed on the Statue of Liberty, have been forgotten in proportion. Commiseration and compassion have on many levels been abandoned for nationalism and an ugly, fierce pride in something that begins to look more and more dystopian with every passing year.

Perhaps, America will remain great in terms of size and political power. But is it good? And what, dear friends, will it take to make it better? Don’t look to politicians. Or soldiers. This isn’t truly a matter of immigration policy or gun control or even desegregation. Legislation is never going to fix what is wrong with this country. What is wrong lies inside our hearts, our minds, places sacred and intangible—in our very souls. We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal. And until we are able to look at people, any people, and see that their souls are no different than ours, that their children are no different than our children, then we will continue this downward spiral, desperately grasping at whatever we think we need to keep us afloat, never realizing that all of these things we cling to so greedily are what is weighing us down.

I long for my country to be good, noble and worthy. I want to be able to be proud to live here, not because the country is amazing, but because it is full of people who are truly trying to be great.

“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she

With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

THE NEW COLOSSUS

Emma Lazarus

Reflections

The year is nearly over.

I sit beside my fireplace with a pot of coffee brewing. The snow gleams outside in the sharp winter air.

This is not Arizona.

The whole landscape of my life has changed, and not just externally.

Last January, about this time, started thinking about going to work in a field hospital in a war zone. That decision led to so many other new and unexpected things that it’s hard to look back and understand exactly what has happened in these twelve months.

More than anything, I think, this year has made me grateful. Grateful for good friends, supportive family and the opportunities with which I have been blessed. Also, for perhaps the very first time in my life, being single has come to feel like that gift that married people always talk about in church. I’ve nothing against married people at church, but they do seem to talk a lot about this subject without much experience…anyway.

Being unattached even feels a little bit selfish at times. For those of you who are single and don’t feel this way, trust me, I understand. I’ve spent most of my adult life without being in a romantic relationship, knowing that I have so much to offer, but with nothing promising on the horizon. I know all about long days of Netflix alone and random wandering through coffee shops in the hopes that you might turn someone’s head—although its unlikely because everyone now has their head buried in laptop and headphones or cellphone. At times, the thought of spending the rest of my life without that “special someone” to remember my birthday, etc. felt like the worst prison sentence in the world. And that whole “it’s a gift from God” idea made me want to hit some people in the face a few times. (I never did)

This year changed all of that for a variety of reasons. Perhaps, some of it comes from simple maturity. Being on the other side of thirty I like to think I’ve gained a little bit of emotional fortitude and stability that was simply unattainable at twenty or twenty-five.

Apart from that, I was able to pick up and leave my job when I heard God call me to go to Iraq. And that being called, so clearly and resolutely, shoved everything else into second place. I was ready to die if that was what was required. I don’t say this to sound somehow holy or righteous, but just to explain that I had a cause, a reason to exist that was entirely outside of myself. Nothing can match that. In my mind, no human being on the planet could be worth missing out on that feeling. All you need is love, the song says. But I think all you really need is to be love. That is what makes life worth living.

Secondly, while I was in Iraq, I saw the toll being a mother takes on a woman. It’s an entire life of selflessness, being held at the mercy, sometimes unwillingly, of a tiny, fretful, fearful human being who doesn’t understand anything except its own needs. Of course I still love babies, and if the opportunity arose, I might gather up the courage to have one myself. But right now, I very much enjoy the fact that I can sleep in on my days off, only have to worry about washing my own clothes, and can choose to eat ice cream and chips for dinner if I like without worrying about setting a bad example. For you mothers, whether your babies are grown or still waking up in the middle of the night, you are amazing. Maybe you have found your calling in raising children, and if you have, then you should understand the amazing feeling of being able to do what you love.

For you single women (and men if you happen to read this), I don’t suggest that you try to pull on your big girl (or boy) boots and just deal like a happy human when you feel alone and forgotten. It’s almost impossible to do. But I do suggest that you first put your focus on God, and second, find something that you love to do. Not because it brings you close to possible mates (see, I have been there—I know how you think), but because you love doing it, because it gives your life meaning and glorifies God. That looks different for everyone. Maybe you clean houses for the elderly or cook meals for the sick or take a frazzled mother of three out for coffee. Whatever it is, find it and run with it until God gives you something else. And He will, because He is good. His plan is perfect, and He loves you.

All of these things, and so many others, made me realize that I like not having roots. I like being able to go where I’m called. It would take a very, very patient and persistent man to keep up with me. (Not to mention put up with all of my weird) I don’t know if such a man exists. I don’t know if he should. All I know is that I am glad to be who I am and where I am.

Next year is nearly here.

I wait eagerly to see what it brings.

~~~

Isaiah 43:4

Because you are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you