Listen…

You know, I can’t even remember the last time I sat down to write anything here.  I think that’s partially due to the fact that I haven’t been overly angry about a whole lot over the past several months.  Now, that’s not to say that I’ve avoided dissent altogether, or that I only write when I’m angry, because neither is the case.  That being said, I will say that this has often been a place of release, likely because of nature of blogging in the first place.  It’s here that I have the illusion that someone is listening because I can say whatever it is I need to say with little to no judgement.  And so somehow, I feel a little bit better and a little less mad at the world.

But today, I thought I’d get right back on track and offer a few thoughts about the state of the world we are living in and how much it chaps my hide.  Specifically, there are a couple things on my mind that I wanted to share, and then, in an effort to be a bit more disciplined, especially in writing, I’ll be back next week to continue the conversation.

Have you ever felt like no one knows how to listen anymore?  And not just the kind of listening that is quiet until I finish my thought and then you say whatever it was you were planning to say, but truly listening, conversing.  As far as I can tell, there are very few people in my life that are good listeners.  That’s not to say I’ve got it down either, but selfishly, I would rather blame someone else at the moment.  I’ve recently come to realize that I am not at all a good listener, though I’m more of a quiet, gentle natured person.

And isn’t it true that it’s easier for us to poke holes in other peoples character to match the holes we have, rather than taking responsibilities for our own flaws?  At this point in my life, I do not need someone to tell me what to believe, or how to live.  I’m not interested in being manipulated.  I just want someone to listen, in the fullest, most deeply relational sorts of ways.  My wife and I have had an ongoing conversation that one of the things that we most desperately need is for a community of people to love us just as we are, without condition, ever.

Thus, I can in some minor ways relate to the oppressed group of people that Derek Webb talks about in one of his more powerful songs.  The song title is What Matters More, and its highly likely that I’ve referenced it before.  Derek speaks a powerful critique against the religious behavior that isolates the gay community as perceived outcast, dysfunctional members of society.  It is because of that overtly judgmental attitude and demeanor that I have of late, had great difficulty associating myself with any sort of organized religious order.  Lately, I’ve shared the same sentiments as Anne Rice, but I’ll save that for another post.

Needless to say, Derek Webb’s prophetic voice speaks specifically to the anti-gay segment of evangelical christianity, yet I’ll include the lyrics on this post because I believe it also speaks to the notion that we’ve got everything figured out, who’s right and who’s wrong, and we refuse to sit down and truly listen to and engage in conversation/relationship with those people to who we most disagree.  And specifically, I’m speaking to evangelicals and the hair brained notion that Jesus came for us to work tirelessly to convince everyone around us to think like me.

It is within that process of thinking that I cannot, and will not associate myself with that group of people.  I do not know all the answers, nor do I presume to.  It is also not my ultimate calling to convince everyone around me to think exactly as I do, refusing to listen and learn in real and powerful ways from those around me.

So, I conclude this lengthy (sorry) post with the lyrics to What Matters More and I ask that you consider with me what kind of person these words challenge us to be, religious or not.

You say always treat people like you’d like to be
I guess you love being hated for your sexuality
You love when people put words in your mouth
About what you believe
Make you sound like a freak

‘Cause if you really believed
What you say you believe
You wouldn’t be so damned reckless
With the words you speak
You wouldn’t silently consent
When the liars speak
Denying all the dying of the remedy

(Chorus)
Tell me, brother what matters more to you
Tell me, sister what matters more to you

If I can see what’s in your heart
By what comes out of your mouth
Then it sure looks to me like being straight
Is all it’s about
It looks like being hated
For all the wrong things
Like chasing the wind
While the pendulum swings

‘Cause we can talk and debate
Till we’re blue in the face
About the language and tradition
That He’s coming to save
And meanwhile we sit
Just like we don’t have give a shit about
Fifty thousand people who are dying today

Me and God

As I begin this post, I must admit that in many ways I’m just playing with words, manipulating them to make my point.  But the thing is, isn’t that what we do?  I mean, words are probably one of the most essential tools we’ve got to express ourselves.  With that short intro, I want to ask a question, or statement, whichever comes out…

(spoiler warning.  I’m probably going to be playing the devil’s advocate this morning.  Or maybe a better label would be that I’m expressing my thoughts and concerns which have, in turn, called into question many, if not all, of those things that I just accepted as “that’s just what we’ve always done it.”)

So, my first thought is as follows.  Growing up in an unfortunately conservative branch of evangelical christianity, one of the most popular phrases I heard went something like this: My relationship with God is something deeply personal.  It’s about me and God and my walk with him. Now, as I ignore all the amens in the crowd, I’ve got a question.  If my relationship with God is so personal, confined within my own heart, however I choose to define my grasping and clinging to it as my own, why go to church?  And yes, I can hear the arguments: we go because we are commanded.  ”Do not give up meeting together…”  We are the first century church in the 21st century (hogwash by the way).  The books of Acts is clear that we are to meet on the first day of the week.  It’s in the Bible. Blah, blah…

Continuing on, it seems that I’ve been contradicting myself for who knows how long, which is most likely a product of the religious prison we’ve accepted as status quo.  And either we know and simply refuse to address the issue, or we have chosen ignorance, which is just as destructive in my mind.  My feeling is that often we don’t really take the time to really listen to what it is we are saying.  Otherwise, we might check our words before we just let them fly.  As Derek Webb says, “if you really believe what you say you believe you wouldn’t be so d*** reckless with the words you speak.”

Here’s an example from this past Sunday morning.  I’m working through some of the parables that we have recorded in scripture.  And it just so happens that the story we were studying was not an original Jesus story, which outside of many of the one liners and other aphorisms, is probably much more prevalent than we know.  Anyway, I posed the question, “does the fact that Jesus didn’t tell this story make it any less true or give us any reason to doubt its credibility?”  Surprisingly, the majority answer was that it totally changes both credibility and truth if in fact Jesus wasn’t the original creator.  (Keep in mind that this story is printed in red ink in our Bibles, which gives the illusion that everything in red are Jesus originals.)

Even still, let’s think about the implications of that conversation.  I said, just because Jesus didn’t say it, is it any less true.  And the answer was, Jesus has to say it for it to be true.  This coming after a roughly 8 weeks study about the bible and how it is overwhelmingly a human document.  But if we just accept the norm or refuse to think about what we say, we make ourselves out to look like morons.  In