on the value of useless things.

It’s obviously a gift from God. My return to academia, though a last resort, is most certainly divine provision. It also feels like a divine curse.

This morning I sat through four hours of lectures. The first informed me of church history I already knew, saturated in dates and statistics I’ll never care to remember. The second explained how my perspectives on scripture are inferior to my professor’s.

After an hour of sauntering through suburbia, I returned to a quiet table on campus. I opened my laptop, logged onto my courses, and noticed I received an average marking on a reflection submitted for my third lecture of the day.

Every professor I have had has warned me they don’t give As. Top marks are reserved for students giving their all and exhibiting a depth of understanding of the material. Understandable. I’m an A+ student who exhibits B- effort. Yet, I can’t help to think that grades are often a measure of your ability to regurgitate information in a way that strokes a professor’s ego.

Education is a blessing. I am attending classes at one of the most prestigious evangelical seminaries in the country. And thanks to student loans, I won’t have to worry about finances for a few months. I should be grateful.

What I am, however, is frustrated. This isn’t who I am or what I want. Learning how to pander to intellectuals so my writing and preaching and thinking matches their definition of “deep understanding of faith” has never been on my agenda. Continue Reading…

Thoughts on Community.

My palms were sweaty. There always are when I’m about to ring a door bell. I dried my hands against my jeans, and latched on to the straps of my backpack. Deep breathe. “Why am I here?”, I wondered.

It was a ginormous house, West Coast Victorian straight out of yesteryear. The stuff white picket-fenced and hipster commune dreams are made of. And, there I was too afraid to cross the threshold. 

As I wrestled with my social anxiety, the door swung open. The young man, clean cut with a litte southern charm threw his arms around my shoulders. “Welcome home.” “Excuse me?” “Welcome home. We’ve been wondering where you were. Soo glad you’ve finally decided to join us.” “Um, I’m sorry, but what? Who are you and what are you talking about?” 

He took my hand, like a small child leading a new friend to the toy room. And, one by one I saw them. Friends from distant lands chatting over tea and cupcakes. There was my roommate from Montana, my friends from D.C., my team from Ibiza… all together. Before I could say hello, my host dragged me up the stairs. Past new Angeleno acquaintances and people from my church. Through side-rooms and parlors full of bloggers, creatives, role models. Familiar faces only from their profile pictures, strangers who I’ve come to love through their words and passions.

I freed my fingers from his grasp. “What is this? Who are you?” “You’ve been praying for community haven’t you? Waiting for a solid community to move forward? Well, here we are. We’ve always been here, waiting for you to notice.”

A dream. After a few hours of prayer and questioning, I had the most crazy beautiful dream. And, I awoke with tears in my eyes and a knot in my throat. Convicted, inspired, loved… I felt everything at once. Everything, but the confusion haunting me when I laid my head against the pillow.

I love when God shows me a little truth through dreams. I tend to argue when I’m awake and talk myself back into perplexion. While I’m asleep, my stubbornness is subdued and my ears are opened. Not every dream is God given, and not all  ”God-given dreams” are actually God. Even so, I full-heartedly believe our Creator is both creative and resourceful. Some say God doesn’t speak through dreams today, but I say “why not?” But I digress, we can talk about prayer and dreams another day.

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Today is about community. A nine letter buzzword spoken frequently, and seldom understood. “Do you have community?” “Are you in community?” “Are you the type of person who creates community?”

By using it as social litmus test for a healthy life, we’ve transformed a beautiful gift into an branding cliche. In Christian circles, “community” is another empty adjective. The “handcrafted artisan” of spiritual modifiers. 

Continue Reading…

Lent: Vlogging, writing, and embracing imperfection

It’s processing. And, all I can think about is how everything is wrong with it.

The camera was precariously perched on our television, resulting in an unfortunate angle. The digital audio recorder picked up the noise from the construction workers downstairs rendering it useless. The in-camera audio isn’t great. The lighting is weird. My face is even weirder. I don’t have the time to put together an intro or an outro. The list goes on and on.

Needless to say, video blogging isn’t my strength. I’m not comfortable on film.  So, my plan was to mask my insecurities by making everything else as perfect as possible – the footage, the audio, the design elements, the content. 

I have been skirting around the idea of starting a vlog or podcast for months. It was just an idea – one that I could never implement well enough. Like most of my ideas, it danced around my mind too unpolished to become a reality.

Consciously releasing flawed, imperfect work into the world seems like stepping into the wilderness knowing you’ll probably die. I don’t like that feeling. It’s not failure I’m afraid of; its succeeding and still screwing up that terrifies me.

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Today is Ash Wednesday, a time where Christians willingly step into the wilderness for a time of reflection. Okay, we really just arbitrary give up something for forty days and cheat on the weekends by stuffing our faces with chocolate. Or at the very least, we know people who do.

Lent is an interesting season in the church calendar. It represents Jesus’ own temptation in the wilderness, and our own wandering as we await the freedom of His death and resurrection. It’s a solemn time of reflection, but it can also be a time of joy and hope because we know how the story ends.

Continue Reading…

a spiritual catch-all.

  1. You’re wrong. I hope you realize your inadequacies.
  2. I won’t be satisfied with our relationship until you act like my puppet.
  3. There are details you’re withholding from me. Please share them now.
  4. I don’t understand why you won’t do what I want.
  5. When are you going to adopt my beliefs and opinions?
  6. I’m determined to change you.
  7. This conversation needs to end, but I don’t know how to tell you to stop talking.
  8. I feel obligated to say something suggesting I care for your well being.
  9. You’re making me uncomfortable. Shut up now, thank you.
  10. I didn’t actually listen to your story, and consequently have nothing to say.
  11. I have no intention of responding to your question/statement, but I don’t want to offend you.
  12. Gossiping is horrible, but I’m perfectly okay with telling everyone your business for the sake of divine intervention.
  13. There is absolutely no hope for you, and you need to know you’re a loss cause.
  14. I want to appear spiritual and wise. This succinct platitude exudes wisdom.
  15. I don’t know what to do with you. Period.

Somewhere along the way, we were taught a magical sentence. It’s a adequate substitution for all of these sentiments. It masquerades frustration and judgment as kind words and mature faith. It conveniently ends conversations. It releases uninterested or disgusted audiences from the obligation of forming a coherent thought in response. It’s a mysterious statement with a built in “benefit of the doubt” so great that one rarely questions its sincerity.

And, it’s only five words long. Four if you use a contraction.

“I’ll pray for you.”

If your communication needs require a statement directed towards a situation rather than a person, simply change two words and you’re set. It’s versatile. For example, it can also mean:

  1. I have no desire to take any responsibility for my actions.
  2. I could care less about helping others, but I want to feel warm and fuzzy inside.
  3. Your suggestion is stupid.
  4. I’m going to completely forget this conversation.
  5. I don’t know how to tell you “no”.
  6. My mind is made up, and I stopped listening to you twenty minutes ago.
  7. And many more…

Why waste your energy on intelligent and thoughtful replies? Simply say:

“I’ll pray about it.”

And, let’s not forget the modified past tense. It conveniently justifies all your mistakes, decisions, and ridiculous opinions. No one can argue. No one can refute your idea or question your judgement. If you need a means of explaining yourself, just say:

“I prayed about it.”

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Prayer is the ultimate Christian cop out. Please, please, please don’t use communication with God as a means of masquerading your religiosity, apathy, or  malice as loving camaraderie.

Continue Reading…

I don’t want to be known “by my fruit”.

There I said it, and I’ll say it again. I hope I’m never known by “my fruit”.

But doesn’t the Bible say “by their fruit you will recognize them”? 

Yeah, the Bible talks about fruit a lot. The writers are appealing to an agricultural society. What do you expect them to use as metaphors? Fruit, plows, fields, wheat – there’s a whole lot of farm in scripture.

Quick, imagine a fruit. Did you think of an apple or a banana? Maybe a pineapple or a mango? Something you could take a bite of and grasp in the palm of your hand?

Spiritual Produce

When we talk about “fruit” within Christian culture, we have a tendency to think of visibile signs of production. Bushels of spiritual apples and oranges.

There are pastors producing tons of “fruit”. Their churches are bursting at the seams. They’ve written several books, branded their own curriculums, and have the coveted blue check mark next to their name on Twitter. Yet, they propagate hate. They push shame. They preach legalism.

There are churches producing tons of “fruit”. Their services are fantastic. Their members are satisfied, and their budgets are overflowing with funds for set designs and staff salaries. Yet, their community outreach is nonexistent. Their doors are rarely open to their neighbors. They’re the very definition of a Christian bubble.

There are people producing tons of “fruit” Their lives are full of answered prayers. They’ve seen incredible miracles, they’ve led people to Christ, and they’re confident they hear from God. Yet, their words are damaging. Their minds are closed. They never grasp the concept of grace.

When we say fruit, we think physical results. We want quality produce in mass quantities. How good is your worship service? How many people attend your church? How many miracles have you seen? How many friends do you have? How awesome is your life? Show me proof of your “fruitfulness”.

Screw that. never want to be known by my fruit if fruit is a metaphor for measurable “spiritual” stuff associated with my life. May I never be known by the number of things I’ve published or followers I’ve accumulated or hours I’ve devoted to ministries. May my spiritual maturity never be evaluated by my theological knowledge or the elegance of my prayers or my ability to regurgitate sermons verbatim. May I never have to say how many girls I’ve mentored or people I’ve cried with or mission trip moments I’ve had. Because none of it matters (in terms of my identity and my worth).

When we start evaluating people solely by what they produce, we fail to recognize who they are and the things that bring them life. When I’m evaluated primarily by my resume, portfolio, network, achievements, education, etc, etc… I’m not actually known at all. More importantly the very thing that drives me remains unknown as well.  Prime example: Christianity is well known to much of the world, but the love of God remains unknown to many.

Biblical Fruit

Can we revisit the phrase by their fruit you will recognize them? When an ancient reader heard this metaphor, they likely imagined the tree or the vine. They thought of the process of bearing fruit, not just the resulting produce. If someone is connected to God, their life will yield fruit with the characteristics of God. There is an element of production, but the focus isn’t mass quantity or quality assurance. It’s an understanding of the process of the fruit coming into existence. The labor, the appropriate conditions, the waiting, the harvesting, the essence of the tree itself…

Continue Reading…

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