Andrew Schwab is a notable author, journalist and lead vocalist for the rock band Project 86. He has written for magazine publications including: Relevant, AP, CCM and HM. He is a published author with 4 available books, including his latest FAME IS INFAMY, available now on the store button above!
So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord.
- 1 Corinthians 5:6-8
When I stop and think about it, I spend a good deal of time throughout my day in a state of distraction from one undeniable fact: one day my life is going to end. I realize I do this for several reasons.
First, I have a natural tendency to want to pretend that heaven is possible here on earth. So, I store up physical treasures like HD televisions and iPads and sweet BBQs, as well as non-physical treasures like Lake Tahoe snowboarding adventures and Pacific Ocean fishing trip memories.
Second, I have a natural proclivity to lay up anchor here, to think this place is my home. So, I cling to things I do not want to ever let go of—like my youth and my health and my dog. These are things of great value, but just like my life in this place, they are not permanent, or at least they will not exist in their present state for me beyond my stay on earth.
Third, sometimes I have doubts. I think to myself, What if all this God business is just a made up story and there is nothing waiting for me on the other side? What if when you die, that’s it, your body melts into the dirt and your mind just shuts off like a dead 9-volt and you are forgotten?
But when I read scripture like the passage above it defies my natural tendencies and doubts. I am reminded that this life is not my home, that though HDTVs and snowboarding trips and dogs (in no particular order) are great, they pale in comparison to what lies ahead. Or at least, I know by faith that though I cannot see what is ahead, I can trust in God’s character; I know because of all he has done for me in the past that he will not sell me short in eternity.
I will have a new life and a new body and a new home waiting for me that is so superior to what I have now that I cannot even fathom it. It will be like moving from a cheap one-bedroom studio in downtown Compton, Los Angeles, to my own castle in the Swiss Alps.
This is why we read Scripture—to be reminded of the things that we so naturally forget. So, do you have a passage to post below that will remind us of other things we may be forgetting?
I thought it would be cool to share some thoughts on my readings on a more consistent basis here.
Keep deception and [a]lies far from me, Give me neither poverty nor riches; Feed me with the food that is my portion, That I not be full and deny You and say, “Who is the LORD?” Or that I not be in want and steal, And profane the name of my God.
Proverbs 30:8-9 NASB
We cannot be consumed with the future because the future is not guaranteed. And even if it is, our time on earth is so, so short. We are to ask for our DAILY bread, and to focus on the now, because the future is in God’s hands. This is comforting to me because, lately, I spend so much time thinking about the variables which lie ahead – How will I be provided for ten years from now? What will I do? Where will I live?
All we can do is make a list of the ways we are blessed and provided for today. All I can do is reflect on the divine provisions I have been given right now, and it will force me to acknowledge that Jesus is real, he is here, and he cares for me.
The reason why he says give us this day our DAILY bread is because if we have enough—not too little or much, as Solomon put it in Ecclesiastes—we will neither become complacent, nor will we starve. Our only recourse is to be thankful for what we have today and rely on God for what will come in the next 24 hours. In the meantime, we commit fully to our work and seek Him with all our might.
This is a life of success, achievement, and most of all, peace.
I would love to hear your feedback below. Check back regularly for more…
As a man, there are a few things in this world I refuse to accept. For example:
*I cannot accept that ice dancing is a legitimate olympic sport.
*I cannot accept Yorkie Terriors. They are not dogs. They are gerbils.
*I cannot accept that yellow lights mean that red is soon to follow. Green means go. Yellow means go faster. The evidence of this flawed philosophy can be found on my most recent $378.00 ticket, which I received from the state of California, complete with photo, shot by an automated camera at an intersection six blocks from my house.
*I cannot accept the three Star Wars prequels. Duh. Or Michael Bay’s film renditions of my favorite childhood cartoon, Transformers. Duh, again.
*I cannot accept the fact that Buffalo Wild Wings is bad for me. How can something that tastes so right be so wrong? The nutrition information must be lying–there is no way that each wing has like seventy grams of fat. It’s just chicken meat and sauce!
*I cannot accept the fact that I must consult the manual when building IKEA furni. Dude, it’s IKEA. A three-year-old CHILD can put those things together. I do, however, acknowledge that I have several bookshelves, side tables, and dressers in my home with backward legs and upside-down handles, THROUGH NO FAULT OF MY OWN.
*I cannot accept Steak without A-1.
*I cannot accept a male who drives a Jetta. Especially a white Jetta.
Whenever I am asked by the universe to swallow any of the above, I go into a shutdown mechanism, not unlike the red ring of death on an Xbox 360. And just like a 360 isn’t supposed to be bumped while running, I was not programmed to comprehend or accept the above. It’s just not in me.
And on that note, I would say acceptance in general is something I “struggle” with.* To be honest, I have a hard time bowing to the fact that there are certain things in life that are out of my control. These are things like growing old, or having to put my needs second in order to be a good husband.
What I have discovered, though, is that my level of peace is directly proportional to my level of acceptance. And likewise, my anxiety is fatally linked to my battles against my own circumstances.
I have found that without acceptance, the walk of faith becomes less like a joyous stroll on an open road, and more like heavy steps through waist-deep sewage. And I think I am not alone in this. It seems like many of us have a hard time with this concept. Some cases in point (yes, another list):
*We cannot accept the choices we have made, so we carry guilt like an anvil.
*We cannot accept our circumstances, so we desperately strive to create new ones, putting pressure on ourselves to find our dream jobs, dream spouses, dream homes.
*We cannot accept our very selves–our bodies, our skill sets, our gifting–so we battle with envious feelings toward those around us. Or we concoct exaggerated online personas to compensate.
But what if God has us right where he wants us in every way?
If you can learn to accept who you are, where you are, and what you have done, you will find that life will fall right into place. Maybe the bad decisions you made in the past are the key to someone else’s healing. Maybe the job that you despise is actually training for something greater on the horizon. Maybe you are meant to be single right now, because you aren’t yet ready for the person God has for you.
If you can learn to accept everything–every detail of your circumstance–and stop fighting against your current situation, you will find a new, magical place of contentment. After all, it’s safe to assume God must know what He is doing. He made you didn’t He?
Remember…not my will, but thy will.
If you can accept, you can trust. If you can trust, you can have faith. In having faith that God knows what He is doing you will find that when you look in the mirror you will see someone who is not fatally flawed, but uniquely designed. And in viewing life through this lens you will be less apt to compare your biceps, stature, spouse, car, or guitar playing abilities to someone else’s.
You will then see that any circumstance in your life, while not necessarily perfect, is absolutely ok.
And in that, self-esteem, confidence, and peace is sure to follow.
*”Struggle” is a stupid word that is a soft, delicate way of saying you blew it. It was coined, no doubt, by someone who was very afraid of offending his fellow believers. Let’s face it: When someone says they are “struggling” it usually means there is very little resistance or battle taking place. We should replace the word “struggle” with a more honest phrase like “blatantly defiling and desecrating myself with.” For example: I am struggling with pornography. For these reasons, If I ever use the word “struggle” I always make sure it is in quotes, so you know my use of the word is at least moderately ironic. Instead of the word “struggle” let’s be men about it. Let’s just admit we screwed up, repent, and move on. Otherwise, we are just making allowances for more “struggles” in the very near future.
We all know the passage in the Bible in which Jesus tells the Pharisees the greatest commandment…
“‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” (Matthew 22:37-40 NIV)
I have personally read this passage about 9.36 million times, and each time I have given most of my attention to the first part. You know, the loving God part. I usually just skim the second part, primarily because I figure that following this command will be easy if I just nail the first half of the passage. This has always been my interpretation, if I am 100% honest.
However, I have learned recently that obeying the second greatest commandment is perhaps the most difficult task in the world, and I have been petitioning God to reconsider it. My thinking is this: I am pretty sure Jesus would revoke this commandment if he was forced to live next door to my neighbor.*
His name is Chuck. And I think God planted him next door to me to prove, among other things, that my Bible interpretation skills are pathetic.
The day Chuck moved next door is one which will live in infamy for the Schwab family. On that evening several years ago we were eating dinner, minding our own business. Then, out of nowhere, we heard a wretched, painfully annoying sound coming from the street in front of our house. It sounded as if a chainsaw, a thousand angry bees, and a weed wacker were all thrown into a blender and mixed on the “frappe’” setting. The sound startled me, and I almost choked on my dinner. Annoyed and confused, I ran into the street to find the source of the commotion and put a stop to it.
And there he was, my new neighbor. In all his splendor and glory. He wore Costco board shorts, a wife-beater, and had a gigantic Coors Light (in a koozie) at his feet. In his hands was a large remote control, with which he was driving an RC Car. He controlled his little vehicle with exaggerated twists of his arms, bending his knees for emphasis, like a DJ for a nu-metal band.
“Howdy neighbor!” He shouted to me without taking his eyes off the zipping, mini 4 x 4. I waved, trying to be polite, but unable to hide my grimace. Here, before me, was a forty-year-old man driving an RC car. This could not be a good omen.
And sure enough, a series of events over the next several weeks confirmed my suspicion that Chuck was, without a doubt, the neighbor from the deepest layer of the fiery pit.
First, there was the 4th of July, his first holiday in the community. To celebrate/assert his dominion, he proceeded to cone-off the whole cul-de-sac (as in, keep the residents from parking in the spots reserved for them near their own homes) so he could clear space to light illegal fireworks.** He also decided the optimal spot to light said fireworks was six feet outside my back door. And each time one of his mortar blasts went off, my dog shot explosive diarrhea on the carpet, then went into convulsions. He did this while driving his RC car, of course.*** When my wife and I asked him (politely) to move his operation, he moved it all of ten feet. At this point we just assumed he wasn’t very good at math, avoided any further drama, and decided to take our dog to a relative’s house for the evening.
A few days later, I found a threatening letter on my car (which was legally parked in a spot near our house), stating I would be towed if I did not move it into my garage immediately. After some detective work, we (my wife and I) discovered that our HOA did not, in fact, write this letter, but rather Chuck did, simply because he wanted my parking spot. I do not lie. We confronted him, but he flatly denied the whole thing, citing a conspiracy by the housing board to frame him. After doing further research, I learned that I was not the first victim of Chuck’s “HOA letter” in the neighborhood. In fact, he had targeted several other cars in the community. At this point, alarm bells were ringing.
A few weeks later we noticed new landscaping in Chuck’s front lawn, highlighted by a couple hundred large stones (which looked expensive). These stones had no business being in his lawn, and frankly, they looked ridiculous. While pulling out of our garage one afternoon he was standing in the street (Doing what? You guessed it! Driving his RC car!). Before we could escape his attention, he began bragging–with a straight face–that he stole them from the lawn of a millionaire who lives in one of the affluent communities nearby. We smiled awkwardly, rolled up the car window, and pulled away. Silence ensued between my wife and I as we drove. And as we did, we both though the same thing: No way this guy is for real.
Seriously, I had never met–let alone lived next door to–anyone like him. I thought people like him only existed on Jerry Springer. I thought he was a fictional being, like Dungeons and Dragons card traders or Miley Cyrus fans.
About a month later he brought a new dog home from the pound. It was a vicious, untamed mongrel, like something out of Ghostbusters. Chuck had to muzzle it to keep it from attacking other dogs. Of course, one day while walking our own dog, Chuck’s dog jumped out of the bushes and ATTACKED ours. As in, it bit our dog in the FACE. A canine death battle would have ensued had my wife not yanked with all her might and hoisted our own animal into her arms. Then, after the fact, Chuck came around the corner to corral his monster. He was barely able to restrain it. The thing snarled and chomped and sprayed beast drool into the atmosphere as he dragged it away. He did not apologize. He said, “Whoops, Chopper. You be nice.” I was too shocked to even respond to the guy. After the fact , while cleaning our dog’s wounds, I fantasized about smashing his RC car with a sledge hammer.
Then, finally, there was the incident which forever solidified Chuck’s label in our mind’s as not only someone who is difficult to live next door to, but as someone who should be avoided at all costs: The long and short of the story is as follows: 1. Chuck gets drunk. 2. Chuck removes his cable box from the TV in his garage and hides it in his bedroom closet. 3. While still drunk, Chuck forgets he moved his cable box, calls the police, and reports his cable box stolen. 4. Still, still drunk, he knocks on each door on our street, asking if anyone had spotted the mysterious cable box thief. He tells us to be on the lookout and to shut our garage door. 5. Chuck then retires to his house for the evening. Threats and curses can be heard emanating from his bedroom, directed towards the phantom burglar, for the thirty minutes prior to his passing out. 6. The next day, he finds his cable box right where he left it and shows no signs of embarrassment as he knocks on our door and tells us we can sleep easier, because the thief has been identified.
To say Chuck is an awful neighbor would be the understatement of the year, if not decade. And his mere presence in my proximity has highlighted something about the second commandment to me that I had previously not considered:
It is freaking tough to love your neighbor when he has no consideration for your feelings, needs, or human rights. In fact, keeping the second greatest commandment is next to impossible. Even if the command read, “Do not perform a rear naked choke on your neighbor” I would have a tough time obeying, at least when it comes to Chuck.
Which leads me to the question, Why did Jesus give us a command that is so difficult to keep?
I have thought and prayed long and hard about this one. I have come at it from every angle and these are my conclusions:
Jesus knew that each one of us would be wronged by other people, and plenty of times throughout our lifetimes. He also knew that our natural, gut reaction as fallen humans would be to seek retribution, justice, or retaliation when we are wronged by another. We want to react, we want to do something when people infringe upon us.
He created us to be individuals of action. It’s in our programming, our DNA, to do something about it.
For example, it would be really, really satisfying to shoot a cannon ball through Chuck’s living room window at 3 AM on a Tuesday. It takes a lot of energy to restrain myself from doing this, mostly because it is the most awesome idea ever.
But notice the commandment doesn’t say “Restrain yourself when your neighbor wrongs you.” That is not what God asks us to do. He tells us to love our neighbor, period, as we would love ourselves, in all circumstances.
I believe he commands this because, above all else, love is an action. Again, since we are created to act and react, to be creatures of motion and response, he tells us what to do about it. We were not created to sit passively. And this is the reason why doing nothing when we are infringed upon is actually the hardest thing in the world.
That’s not all. By telling us act in love, he is actually telling us to do the very thing that is the opposite of what is natural, expected, and deserved. He is asking us to be a source of confusion to those around us. And in so doing, he is drawing attention to Himself.
I think that is pretty cool.
By actively seeking to love, even when the person does not deserve it, we are engaging in a momentum-shifting, nature-altering event. We are killing our own sinful wills, and allowing God’s spirit to take control of our arms, legs, feet, face, and tongues. We are, in essence, transacting an event that makes no logical sense, which can only be attributed and explained as supernatural.
Love given when it is not deserved is baffling. Dumbfounding, confusing. And I like the idea of baffling someone in the name of something supernatural.
For many months, I contemplated confronting Chuck, knowing that if I did it would only evoke defensiveness, and most likely more shenanigans towards my family on his part. So then I took to avoidance. Whenever I saw him, I just looked at the ground. But it was only recently that I began treating him like a normal neighbor…saying hello, being kind, using the attitude of love as my guide, even when I didn’t “feel” like it.
Every time I say “hello” to him I can see the confusion in his eyes. Though he baffled me with his antics, I think I baffle him even more when I respond with kindness.
And I think that’s they way Jesus wants it.
*Yes, I know God doesn’t reconsider commands. And I also know that He already is fully aware of my neighbor. While not theologically accurate, these statements are meant for comedic effect. You know, like LOL, haha, ROTFL?
**Sadly, in California the only fireworks that are legal are sparklers, snakes, firecrackers, and cones. This is reason #147 why California is overrated.
***Of course. Obviously. Duh.
What makes you more frustrated than anything else?
Is it injustice? Ignorance? Ke$ha?
While you think about it, I would like to tell you about something that happened to me recently that left me pretty upset.
The scene was set in Los Angeles. It was my wfie’s brithday, and we were visiting the Griffith Park Observatory. I have many fond memories of the GPO from my childhood, but I had not visited it for many years. And this was my wife’s first visit. So, needless to say, we were both excited to spend the evening there, going to planetarium shows, learning interesting factoids about heavenly bodies, and enjoying the view–the greatest view in southern California, I might add.
The only problem is that we planned our trip on a Sunday. And, to our dismay, we discovered the entire population of the western hemisphere likes to visit that place on Sundays in late August. And there are exactly nine spots TOTAL in the GPO parking lot. The rest is street parking down a windy, long, steep road. On that day, the line of parked cars extended nearly a mile down the hill.
A few things about me: I don’t like walking up hills if I don’t have to. And I like parking as close as possible, whenever possible. So, I decided to take my chances with the lot. Immediately, I caught sight of a car with its reverse lights on. I raced to position and set my blinker, only to find I was too late. This happened at least forty-seven times over the next twenty minutes. Several times I even got brutally snaked by other drivers. My wife and I were soon at the ends of ourselves, fuming, contemplating giving up and going home.
But then the shrouded heavens parted and the spirit of a dove descended from the clouds. It fluttered to a tiny, empty parking spot between two cars on the curb leading into the observatory grounds. A catholic monk choir began echoing hymns all around us, and a beam of sunlight illuminated this small expanse of curb. Then, my name was spelled by butterflies hovering above this sacred, holy spot. It was as if God himself had written my name on this parking place before the foundations of the earth…
Suddenly, all was well inside the Schwabmobile. My wife and I cackled and howled with glee as I hit the gas, burned out, and floored it–quarter-mile dragster style–to the parking place. Bad mood? What bad mood? We had found victory!
After 937 moves forward and reverse, I successfully parrallel parked in the tiny spot. We grabbed our things and headed off to fun…planetary orbits and moon craters and mars rovers and wormholes. But as we began walking a teeny, tiny voice said something, barely audible, in my head:
Are you sure you want to leave your car on that red curb?
Yeah, ok, so the curb was red. And red curbs usually mean its illegal to park, no matter what. But there was a sign posted that said “No parking weekdays 8-5 P.M.” It was Sunday, which meant that I was in the clear. Besides, like I said, there was a line of cars parked against the red curb that stretched to the horizon. So, I thought to myself, there is no way a cop is going to ticket everyone. And there is no way all these people are wrong.
I thought it was impossible to get a ticket. I would have bet my life savings, my firstborn, and my wife’s spleen on it.
So, we made our way to the observatory and had a blast, not giving the parking siutation a second thought. And when we were finished we left satisfied, feeling like our day had been spent creating indelible memories. As we walked back to the car, peace like a river flowed through our beings–so much so that I was completely unprepared for what was about to take place. I was like a calm cow, grazing peacefully on top of train tracks, unaware of the approaching train engine in the distance.
But there it was–bright enough to see, even in the moonlight:
An $82.00 parking ticket from the city of Los Angeles.
Now, truth be told, I am a pretty patient guy. I don’t really have a strong temper, and I rarely even raise my voice in frustration. With that in mind, trust me when I say that there, in that moment, I would have given anything to have a few, heated words with the public servant who had placed that abomination under my wiper blade. Better yet, the people who recently decided to triple parking ticket fees in my home state. I snatched the ticket in my hand and contemplated tearing it up, but then, my conscience kicked in: C’mon, Schwab, remember who you are and who you claim to be. Control yourself…
For much of the ride home there was a battle taking place inside of me. On one hand, I felt completely justified in being angry. After all, that ticket was such a scam on so many levels. But on the other hand there was this lingering question: Is it wrong for me, as a person of faith, to feel angry when there is a good reason to?
I have heard many Christians over the years say the answer is, absolutely, 100%, no. And I know many that believe simply having frustrated emotions is a sinful act. Is this realistic, though? Does God really expect us to be emotionally vacant and stoic? What does the Bible say about it?
After doing a bit of study, I noticed that God is far from silent about his feelings about anger. My first conclusion was the most obvious one: acting out in violence, rage, or retribution in response to anger is nearly always wrong and only justifiable in scipture in extreme circumstances. Then, as I looked a little deeper, I started getting some answers to my specific question, which relates to the emotion of anger. Here is what I learned:
We are to be patient in every circumstance. We are to look inwardly and take responsibility for our emotions when they come. We are to always be in control of our reactions. I found no real exceptions to the above, save cases of purely righteous indignation, which is a rarity. These are all points about anger that most of us are familiar with.
But one thing I discovered which actually surprised me was this: God seems to anticipate that we will all get angry. In other words, it’s not the emotion of anger hat God warns us against, but how we respond to the emotion that matters. He knows that we will get upset along the way, and he doesn’t expect us to shut off our feelings. But he also assumes each and every one of us has the capacity to control ourselves in any and all situations.
Case in point: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, for man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires (James 1:19-20)
It’s not angry emotion that is wrong, but reactions to angry emotion. If you have been injured by someone else, friend, foe, or otherwise, it is not your responsibility to silence your feelings. As Christians, God does not expect us to be emotional rocks. However, it is our responsibilities to both control our reactions and resolve the situation with patience. If you are in the moment, no matter how much you feel justified in your temper flares, you have no right to explode. What God requires is for us to channel our frustrations properly.
For example, while the harbingers of death at the state of California got my $82.00, their eternally condemnable parking laws have inspired this blog.
Finally, I have discovered an exercise that works well if you are becoming frustrated. If you feel your judgment is clouding when strong emotions come over you, you must first walk it off. Get away from people for ten or fifteen minutes. Do not try to resolve the situation while your feelings are flared.
Then, as you are in solitude, pray that God meets you inside your anger. This takes discipline, but it works. When you are calm again, speak openly and honestly to the other individual involved, emphasizing how their actions or the circumstance made you feel without attacking back. In response, their defenses shoud lower as well, if they are reasonable. If they do not, state your case and move on, knowing you did your best. But before you do, make sure you listen patiently, as well. Handling yourself in this way displays the type of character that is expected of each of us as believers…
If you are upset not at a tangible person, but a situation, circumstance, entity, organization, clothing brand, or Ke$ha, your interaction may change while the principles stay the same.
It’s not wrong to get mad. Just don’t react while you are.
Some scriptues for additional study:
In your anger do not sin. Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold (Ephesians 4:26).
Man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires (James 1:20).
An angry man stirs up dissension, and a hot-tempered one commits many sins (Proverbs 29:22).
The acts of the sinful nature are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions (Galatians 5:19-20).
But now you must rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips (Colossians 3:8).
I’m not going to lie. I was a serious force in little league baseball in fourth grade. In my first year I made the all-star team, and had the best batting average on my team. And when the season concluded (with a decent all-star game performance, I might add), I was poised–in my own mind, at least–for a serious run at a major league career.
Until…
One afternoon during the summer after that first season, my dad and I were playing catch in the back yard, like we had countless times before. But early in our sesh, as I threw the ball to my dad, I became distracted by my dog, which was barking wildly at a snake or some other small creature in the grass. I turned my head to see what going on as the ball was in mid-air, travling to him. I kept investigating my dog for a moment, assuming that my dad would wait until I made eye contact with him again before he threw the ball back to me. But then I heard my name being shouted, and as I turned back to him, the ball was already in the air. I raised my glove…
But it was too late.
Then, I heard an earth-pummeling, skull-crunching, galaxy-devastating, nuclear-blast-of-an- explosion on the upper right region/area/locale of my face. More specifically, the baseball had collided with my right eye, and the world had gone black. It was .23 seconds later that I set the US decibel record for loudest blood-curdling wail by a human.
Getting hit by a baseball in the eye–even a lightly thrown one–is sort of indescribable. Imagine the sound of a wrecking ball smashing into a steel building, combined with the sound of an airplane engine being amplified through the PA system at Yankee stadium inside your head at the same instant. Then, imagine your head sitting between a head-on collision of two half-ton pickups who are speeding at one another at eighty-eight miles per hour.
That’s right, eighty-eight miles per hour.
Ok, I exaggerate. But not by much. It truly sucked, and it was quite painful.
As I wailed and scared the living excrement out of every living human within three counties, my dad rushed me into the house to get some ice. But instead, he decided to grab a hunk of raw meat from the freezer and slap it on the side of my face. This sent aftershocks of the pain radiating down the whole right side of my body. I let out another scream as he did so.
My eye swelled shut in a matter of seconds. The pain would not subside for hours. It would be two weeks before the enormous shiner was completely gone.
Though the damage to my face was considerable, the greater damage was done to my baseball mojo. It took me over a month to work up the courage to even pick up my mitt after that.
When my dad finally convinced me to get back on the field, I was more than a little gunshy. We started with batting practice. When he threw the first pitch I flew backwards, launching myself five feet from the plate to avoid the ball. All I could hear in my head was that horrendous crunching sound, and all I could see was the flash when the lights when out.
This was bad. Real bad. Baseball season was approaching. I was moving up to a higher league where everything would be faster and harder than before. All I could see in my future was the potential for another smash in the face…
How was I going to make it through the season, let alone play well?
We all have disappointing experiences in our pasts. Accidents, mistakes, poor decisions, mean acts from mean people to nice ones. And as we look to the what’s ahead, the voices from the past show up and threaten our perspective about the future, causing fear, doubt, and anxiety. They say things like these:
What if I shouldn’t have broken up with him/her?
What if we lose this house because we got an interest-only loan?
What if the person I marry ends up treating me bad, just like my parents did?
What if that dude I pantsed in junior high finds out where I live?
What if I should have been a carpenter instead of a Christian hip-hop artist?
What if I paid too much for my car insurance?
What if, by repeatedly avoiding the census takers at my door I am actually placing myself on a secret FBI list that will one day result in my being sent up the river to a special prison where they force us to watch only the Bravo network and more specifically the real housewives of Orange County, New Jersey, Atlanta, and New York on infinte repeat?
What if God doesn’t protect me in the future?
And as fear lays itself on thick, our attempts to alleviate our worry as a result are strained and difficult. Because bad things have happened in the past, more bad things must be coming. This hinders our peace, as well as our joy in the present. We stop living because our histories are haunting us, and we will do anything to avoid more pain.
But consider this, if you are dealing with anxiety about what lies ahead:
Fear of the future usually comes from an incorrect view of the past.
Remember, we all make stupid decisions. Disappointments are a part of life. Maybe we trusted the wrong person and get burned. Maybe a family member treated us poorly when we were growing up. Or perhaps we thought there wouldn’t be a cop looming under that overpass while we were doing 95. We let the big one get away. We decided to pursue Christian hip-hop instead of carpentry. But does any of this really mean our future will look the same as our past? Are we doomed to repeat history?
No. We are not.
As it turns out, we are in complete control of our pasts. Unfortunately, we can’t change it, but we can use it in any way we please. We can either use it to justify the fear of the future, or we can use it as a learning tool. Ironically, If we see the past as a reason to be afraid, we are more likely to make similar mistakes. This is a victim-like response that is passive and counter-productive. But if we choose to learn we are making a choice to take action. And in this way a troubled past becomes an ally, an insurance policy which will actually give us the best chance for a different future.
To learn from the past is to grow in faith and wisdom.
The conclusion? You need not worry. The past does not dictate the future. And wisdom gained from learning from past experiences actually makes it is easier to trust God with our futures. A wise man learns from both his missteps and his bad experiences to become a more righteous person.
This discussion brings a famous poem to mind. Many of you have heard this before, but now may be a good time for a refresher:
I was regretting the past
and fearing the future.
Suddenly my Lord was speaking:
“My name is I AM”
He paused.
I waited. He continued,
“When you live in the past
with its mistakes and regrets,
it is hard. I am not there.
My name is not I WAS.
When you live in the future,
with its problems and fears,
it is hard. I am not there.
My name is not I WILL BE.
When you live in this moment
it is not hard. I am here,
My name is I AM.”
-Helen Mallicoat
Incidentally, I played poorly for the first part of that baseball season, because I couldn’t get that image of being blasted in the eye out my head. It took some serious soul-searching, but I finally forced myself to stay in the batters box one game about half way through our schedule. And wouldn’t you know it? I went 3-4 that game with two doubles and three RBIs. But it wasn’t until I convinced myself that the past didn’t have to be the future that I was able to play up to my capabilities.
I was watching one of my all-time favorite films the other day (High Fidelity) and there was a scene that hit me hard.* It was the scene when, in the midst of his life spiraling into chaos, the main protagonist decides to reorganize his record collection.
Rob (played by John Cusack), having just broken up with his longtime girlfriend, begins to put these thousands of vinyl records not in alphabetical or chronological order, but in autobiographical order. When asked by one of his friends why he was doing this, he simply replied because it was…comforting.
I pushed stop on the film immediately. For some reason, the idea of reorganizing my music did sound very comforting to me at that moment. Not because my life was in any way chaotic, or anything remotely tragic had happened, but, to be honest, I wanted to take on this project because I was…bored.
So I started taking cds off the shelves in my office and going through each one, updating my digital archive in iTunes. And as I did, something curious began to happen…
Now, before I go further I need to tell you a few things about my music collecting philosophy. First, I am not the typical music snob that acquires records just because someone tells me this band or that record is cool to own. In my opinion those types are not music fans, but people who like using music a means to sound intelligent and elitist. No, I am the type of music snob that only listens to music that I connect with deeply. I am what you would call an emotional music purist. I like what I like, and I have an intense personal connection with the music I choose to acquire. I prefer quality over quantity. What this means is that not only do I have a more difficult time finding music I love than most people, but I have a smaller collection because of it.
This also means I am prone to having droughts where I do not find records I love for weeks, or even months, at a time. And this particular chapter in my life has been one of the most dry yet. Perhaps my subconscious was pushing me to the great music reorganization of 2010 for this reason.
Now, if you know anything about me you know that I don’t do many things half-way. If I am into something I am really into it. And if I decide I am passionate about an activity I give it my all, or I don’t do it at all.
My wife calls this obsession.
I call it being awesome.
So, naturally, about three hours into my reorganization, I began shutting myself off from the rest of the natural world. I quickly forgot about things like food, water, and human contact in my catharsis. Stacks of cds surrounded me in all directions as my mind raced and catalogued. I was creating a master digital archive on my external hard drive so that in the event of loss, crash, or natural disaster I would have all of my music backed up…every last song, every last note. The more seconds passed, the more I became consumed and convinced that I was partaking on a mission of utmost significance.
It was about this time my wife asked me if I was feeling ok. Apparently, she had been trying to speak to me for the better part of an hour and I had been ignoring her. I just looked at her like she, not I, was the one who was nuts. Frustrated and confused, she asked me a second question–one that proved to be profound:
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
I didn’t have an answer immediately. I didn’t say anything, in fact. Instead, I just kept pouring myself completely into the task before me. So she left me to my compulsion. But her words kept playing in my head.
Why AM I doing this?
That was when I found a dusty cd on the shelf that I had neither listened to nor glanced at for years, Aimee Mann’s Lost In Space. The packaging is unbelievable. And the lyrics are astounding. How had I forgotten about this one? Then I found Super Black Market Clash. It has deep cuts from my favorite band of all time, and stories behind the songs in the liner notes. Stoked!
And then the flood gates opened. I began rediscovering tons of music–genius music–that I had not delved into for ages. My reorganization quickly evolved into a listening party, a celebration of all these great creations that had been sitting next to me for years, collecting dust. It was beautiful. It was inspiring. And it was highly educational.
I felt more alive, more in love with music than I had been for as long as I can remember.
But then, all of a sudden, I heard a still, small voice in my head, speaking to me about a more profound truth:
Sometimes the key to passion doesn’t lie in finding new truths but in reminders of old ones.
And somehow the trivial activity before me had become a spiritual metaphor.
Do you ever feel bored and stale spiritually? Of course you do. We all do. Many of you reading this probably feel that way at this very moment.
Many times we think the solution to the dryness is usually to inject some sort of “new” into our routine–a Rob Bell book purchase, a visit to that happening church every one is talking about, a new small group, or a ticket to a men’s retreat. We are convinced that the key to keeping our passion alive is to continually ensure that there is enough fresh, contemporary spiritual stimuli flowing through the veins of our souls.
But rediscovering my old Clash and Quicksand records taught me something: Many times we think we need something brand new to re-awaken our first love, when perhaps all we need is a reminder. Maybe we just need to stop forgetting what we already know to be true.
Dear friends, I am not writing you a new command but an old one, which you have had since the beginning. This old command is the message you have heard. – 1 John 2:7
So, here are a few reminders that will bring life to you if you are feeling dead:
*God’s love is unconditional, and his forgiveness is larger than any crime you have ever committed.
*If you will stand up for Him before men, Jesus will stand of up for you before the father in heaven.
*Eternal life is real and available at this moment.
*The past is dead, but you are alive in faith.
*There is no greater peace to be found in life than intimacy with your creator.
I am not yet finished with my record reorganization, so I am going to get back to it. I just wanted to take a little break and give you a blog…
Do you feel just a little more alive now?
*Incidentally, as good as this movie is, the book is many times better. I guess this is true for most films based on books. But trust me, this is one book you must read, if you even remotely enjoyed the flick. Just my opinion.
“A faithful friend is the medicine of life.” ~ Apocrypha
I had this friend in high school who I spent a good deal of time with named Phil. Phil was a fun dude. We laughed constantly, and I enjoyed being around him because I could always count on this guy to say something that would make me feel good about myself. He was a very positive, upbeat guy that most people seemed to gravitate toward. He became one of my best friends.
During this time I had a girlfriend, and the three of us spent time hanging out on a regular basis. We became a unit. We studied together, got together at one another’s houses, met up to watch movies together. For a brief period we were inseparable.
But after a few months of dating I began to have second thoughts about the relationship with my girlfriend. So naturally, I approached Phil for advice.
Strangely, he was very adament that I break up with her. Out of the blue, he began to spout negative comments about this girl, someone whom he had nothing but praise for previously. I had never heard him speak this way about anyone prior to this, so it was a little unnerving. But because he was someone I trusted, I put a good deal of stock in his advice. And after thinking about it on my own, getting additional advice, and praying about it, I felt like the best conclusion was to end things with the girl. So, I broke up with her.
I stopped spending time with her immediately, focusing more on school and the other things in my life that were important to me. I busied myself for distraction’s sake, but getting past the hurt was hard. Curiously, though, my friend Phil began spending less and less time with me. I began to feel confused and frustrated as to why my best friend was nowhere to be found in my time of greatest need.
Until one day, while I was strolling across campus after class, I stumbled upon a scene that floored me. There was Phil, nuzzled next to my ex in a shady corner of campus! I stopped for a second, staring, rubbing my eyes in disbelief like a cartoon character.
Seriously? Had I just been the victim of a swindle? Yup, I sure had. And I fell for it!
I felt like Lloyd Christmas must have felt when he was robbed by the old lady on the motorized cart in Dumb and Dumber. I felt like the detectives must have felt at the end of Usual Suspects.
Phil was not Verbal Kint. He was Kaiser Soze! The devil in the flesh!!
And I didn’t even see it coming! (in Jim Carrey Voice)
No, I didn’t knock Phil out (but I probably should have). And I didn’t torch my ex-girlfriends house (though I contemplated it). I just walked home, scratching my head, wishing I had known better…
Have you ever been betrayed by someone who claimed to be your best friend? I would be surprised if there is anyone who reads this who hasn’t. And I would say that there aren’t many things in this world that most of us loathe more than a fake friend. Why? Because there is something about being double-crossed that makes us feel violated in the core of our beings.
Yet, for as much as we hate being betrayed, it is a very common thing. In fact, I would go as far as to say that it is one guaranteed part of being alive; at some point, each of us is going to be sold out by the person we least expect. And most times, will not see it coming, even though it may have been obvious to everyone else around us.
So why are we fooled?
Because sometimes we see what we want to see in other people, rather than looking on them with objective eyes. Because we all long to find someone whom we can share ourselves with. But in our search for comrades, often times we trust those who don’t deserve to be trusted in the hopes that we have found someone special. Then we are shocked when we are wounded by them.
But is it possible to know how to discern your true friends from the false ones before something bad happens? Is it possible to save ourselves the deep wounds and heartaches that come from unsuspected betrayal?
Yes!
Check out these verses as a starting point. These are some of my favorite in the Bible:
An honest answer is like a kiss on the lips. Pvb. 24:26
Wounds from a friend can be trusted, but an enemy multiplies kisses. Prv. 27:6
Let us not love with word tongue, but with action and truth. 1 John 3:18
And from these verses, along with plenty of experience, I have developed a test to discern who your real friends truly are. I call it Cutting to the Heart of Unseen Motives, or CHUM test. Here it is:
1. Compare the person’s actions vs. their words. If someone says they care about you, but their actions are always saying they don’t, then go with their actions as the true indicator of someone’s feelings toward you. This includes people who say they are going to hang out or call, but usually flake. They bail because it’s not a priority to them.
2. Does the person in question always tell you what you want to hear? If they are always pleasing, chances are they are not always honest with you. Beware of passive people who avoid conflict. When the chips are down, they will run for the hills! A good rule of thumb: if someone has the courage to risk your defenses in order to tell you something that you need (but don’t want to) hear, they are probably someone who you can trust.
3. What is your gut telling you? Does the person make you feel anxious, or at ease? Trustworthy people are almost always obviously so. If you are confused about a person’s intentions or debating their loyalty, the fact that you have to question this at all is usually an answer in and of itself. Follow your instincts!
4. Is the person there for you when you need them? When the waters get rough do they stick around? No matter the excuse, there is no excuse. You have to be there if you say you care.
5. Party friends are usually fake friends. I don’t know why this is…probably because drinking, hooking up, the bar scene and other related, shady activities often involve some sort of breach of character. But I can’t tell you how many times this has been illustrated to me: If you are connected to someone through the bar/party scene, they will usually show that they are not someone to invest in outside of that context. There are exceptions, but they are rare.
6. Know the difference between an acquaintance and a friend. The former is someone who is fun to hang out with, but not worth telling your secrets to. The latter is someone who you can confide in about your vices, worst mistakes, and fears. The former is someone to meet up for coffee and discuss the latest Gorillaz release with or an Independent film. The latter is someone you ask to be your best man. In my experience, most people end up being acquaintances. True friends are rare. Don’t try to force square pegs into round holes.
7. Does the person share your secrets when you ask them not to? Then they aren’t your real friend.
8. Your special lady/guy friend is still a friend first and foremost! Just because your vision becomes muddled with the strong emotions of attraction, does not mean this test does not apply to them. Are you making exceptions for the person just because you have feelings for them? They should pass the CHUM test as well if they truly are a keeper.
9. True friends will always at least try to see your point of view, even if they don’t agree. They may not always agree with you, but they will listen. If you find that the person in question always steamrolls your feelings and opinions, then that is a red flag. Confront them on it. If they respond by listening then that shows good character. But if they try to turn it around on you and do not listen, then perhaps its time to reevaluate the nature of your association.
10. When all else fails, and you want to find out where you stand with someone, place a huge piece of spinach in your teeth upon greeting said person. If they point out the spinach, then they are most likely trustworthy. But if they don’t, then they will probably tell someone else about it and have a laugh at your expense! I kid, but you would be surprised how little details paint the picture of a person’s character. The small things that people do can tell you a lot about where they are coming from.
Finally, God gave us each discernment. Usually, if there is someone in our lives who is using us or does not have our best interests in mind, it will become apparent as long as we keep our eyes are open. And if you feel like you have extended trust to someone who does not deserve it, then put the brakes on! It’s better to err on the side of caution in relationships. If the person in question is genuine they will understand.
People show you who they really are if just pay attention. And when someone shows you their true character, believe them!
The Bible says this: Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.
Again, be careful with your associations. They will define you. And if you are not careful, they can burn you. Choose wisely who you confide in and who you trust. Know that there are countless numbers of people out there who are out for their own interests, but those with dependable character are difficult to find.
Do you have questions about a current relationship? Have you been burned? Do you have something to add to this discussion? Post your comments below.
In Part 2 We will discuss how to recover from the wounds of betrayal.
Touring with a band can cut your life expectancy short by staggering percentages. But it isn’t the lack of sleep, dangerous overnight drives, or the mystery stains on hotel comforters that will do you in.
No, touring will kill you slowly and mercilessly by a much more covert means:
Death by lethal (fast food) ingestion.
Alas, in rushing from city to city to make load-in times (along with trying to steal every last second of much-needed sleep) dietary concerns inevitably take a back seat. And meal choices are usually dictated by which chain restaurants are offered near truckstops/gas stations along the highway to your next show.
I have eaten countless McNuggets, Whoppers, and Frosties over the last fourteen years.
But recently I have started changing my ways.
For reasons I will explain in a moment, I have begun to take my food choices a bit more seriously. And for that reason, finding eats on the road has become trench warfare.
Today we were running late to a show in Indiana, outside Indianapolis. There really weren’t many options for food along the way, of course, yet the entire band was starving for lunch. So, we stopped at the only “restaurant” for miles – KFC.
I put the word “restaurant” in quotes because, in case you didn’t know, KFC stands for KNIFING FORCEFULLY at your COLON.
Anyway, while were waiting in line to order I was severely torn. On one hand there was my ravenous hunger. On the other hand there was my fervent disdain for CANCER, along with the value I place on my stomach, intestines, liver, spleen, gall bladder, circulatory system, heart, skin, endocrine system, brain and therefore, my existence. So I did what any normal citizen with common sense would do: I asked the lady behind the counter for nutrition information.
You would think I had twenty sticks of dynamite strapped to my chest and I just ordered the cashier to empty the register.
All the Knifing Forcefully at your Colon employees stopped working to stare at the insane- earth-loving-hippie-disguised-as-the-rocker-dude standing at the register (that’s me, in case you were not clear on this). My bandmates gawked at me. The people in line behind me grunted and sighed. Then, the cashier let out a groan and disappeared into a closet. Seconds turned to minutes. I heard metal clanging, loud crashing, large cooking appliances being overturned. I heard live chickens squawking and lots and lots of cursing.
Nine minutes later the girl emerged, clothing torn and tattered, hair looking Doc Brown-esque, panting, handing me a dusty, discolored document that looked more like a pirate treasure map than a nutrition pamphlet.
I tried my best to show gratitude, despite the fact that I had already been labeled a terrorist by everyone in the place.
Then I began to study the list. Did you know one KFC Extra Crispy chicken breast contains 510 calories, 33 grams of fat (7g saturated), and over 1000 grams of sodium? That’s ONE piece. In fact, there was very little on the list that I could have eaten in good conscience, let alone without the resulting stomach cramps that would certainly follow.
I decided on one grilled chicken wrap, while my other band members gorged on multi-course meals with calorie counts in the multiple thousands.
And I left Knifing Forcefully at your Colon still hungry…
I didn’t always care about what I put into my body. Like most Americans, I followed the crowd in my food selection for most of my life. I basically ate and drank whatever I felt like (or whatever looked tasty at the time).
But then I met my wife, who has a very serious intestinal disorder called Celiac Disease. This changed everything. And I am very thankful it did.
Celiac Disease is an intolerance to gluten, which is a preservative/thickening agent that is used in 99% of the food we eat. It is found in almost every form of processed food and in almost every dish served in restaurants. If my wife eats food that contains gluten she becomes very ill, and for several days. Therefore, she can no longer eat processed foods, fast food, or most food at regular grocery stores. Basically, she is reduced to eating foods in their natural state, or cooking every meal at home to control the ingredients. She has also begun grocery shopping solely at health food stores for gluten-free food options and organic produce.
Because I am a supportive/awesome husband, I too have adopted this lifestyle. And every aspect of my health has improved drastically.
When you start investigating what goes into the food we consume in this country, it is like pulling a thread on a sweater. Only, when you pull it, not only does the sweater unravel, but it reveals that the guy wearing said sweater is not a human at all; Underneath is a zombie corpse of maggots and worms, kind of like Oogie Boogie in A Nightmare before Christmas.
Believe me, I have ALWAYS been the guy that makes fun of the vegan/organic/earth/ hippie people that work at Whole Foods. I have since become like them in many ways, simply by doing objective research about food. And I definitely don’t mean to preach here, because I know how important food is to all of us and I know how annoying the earth agenda can be sometimes. But I can’t ignore some of the facts I have learned as late:
*Europe has banned ALL beef imports from the US due to our unhealthy practices including antibiotic use. 28 million pounds of antibiotics are used on livestock each year. One of the antibiotics used contains significant amounts of the most carcinogenic form of arsenic. Daily exposure to low doses of arsenic can cause cancer, dementia, neurological problems, and other ailments in humans.
*According to the Archives of Internal Medicine, If you drink two or more carbonated soft drinks and/or sugary “fruit” drinks a day, your chance of developing type 2 diabetes goes up 25-30%. In the past 10 years, soft drink consumption among children has almost doubled in the United States. Teenage boys now drink, on average, three or more cans of soda per day. Teenage girls consume more than two cans a day.
*Studies have shown the link between refined sugar and/or high fructose corn syrup and a plethora of different cancers. In fact, all cancers actually feed on refined/white sugar!
* Some children with autism who adhere to a gluten-free/casein free diet show a significant decrease in symptoms.
*The National Cancer Institute states that 35% of all cancer cases have a nutritional connection.
*Diabetes now affects over 18 million adults. Poor diet and obesity are two known causes of this ailment, which now claims the lives of four million people per year.
*Most of us know by now that there are serious health risks to being overweight and obese, which for many people is a result of poor nutrition. These risks include heart disease, liver disease, stroke, arthritis, and many others.
*Thyroid disorders and other autoimmune dysfunction has been linked to gluten consumption, along with neurological disorders such as Parkinson’s Disease.
*The “anti-cancer daily diet” can actually help prevent hormone-dependant cancers such as breast, ovary, uterine, and prostate. This diet includes foods rich in antioxidants, fiber and isoflavones. Examples include fresh blueberries, tomatoes, garlic, carrots, broccoli and onions.
And that is, literally, just the tip of the iceberg…
It seems that old adage is true…you really ARE what you EAT. The things we put into our bodies have a huge bearing on the length and quality of our lives. There is no way around this.
And the most healthy way to consume food is in the natural state that God made it. Organic. Hormone, preservative, and pesticide free. Raw, if possible. Isn’t that interesting?
Now, I am the type of person who likes to get to the core of things and look at the big picture. And for that reason, I will tell you that this blog isn’t really about telling you what you should or shouldn’t be eating.
The fact is, our consumer, capitalistic culture has birthed a specific mindset in all of us toward food: taste, convenience, and shelf-life are more important than nutritional value. But the tradeoff is our very health. What tastes great in our mouths is very sour in our stomachs, quite literally.
God didn’t create food for our tastebuds, first and foremost. Just like he didn’t create sex just to feel good. He created it for nourishment and energy. We have distorted the very function of it in the name of big business and convenience.
The Bible tells us that everything in the world is in a state of decay because of sin. Every living thing dies. Even our plants–the peppers in our gardens and the apples on our trees–bear the thumbprint of this decay. Fresh fruit will only stay fresh for a few days as it sits waiting to be eaten on our countertops. Produce will only last about a week in our refrigerators before it must be eaten or discarded.
So, mankind tries to find a way to preserve the life of food, just like he tries to delay mortality through medical technology and other types of invention. But the more we try to escape death and decay, the more we kill ourselves in the process.
There really is no way to preserve life, save one. Death is certain because of sin, unless you believe in Christ.
Then, and only then, can we live forever.
Isn’t it amazing that even a discussion of food can lead us back to the cross? I believe everything in this world will lead us back to that one, ultimate act of love if we are willing to dig deep enough…
Incidentally, on this tour I have been saving tons of cash by avoiding fast food and snack stops. I can count the times I have eaten at these places on one hand. Instead, I stocked up on some great organic foods from my local health food store before I left town. I have a stockpile of Larabars, dried organic fruits, organic trail mix, and nuts. I have eaten a bit less, but it also means I am avoiding the dreaded tour gut. And lo and behold–I feel like a different human being! I actually have energy, my brain works, and I am not a Grinch to be around…
So call me a hippie. I don’t mind.
For added reading:
www.cspinet.org/reports/chemcuisine.htm
www.foodincmovie.com
www.doctoroz.com
www.sustainabletable.org/issues/hormones/
http://www.goveg.com/contamination.asp
thyroid.about.com/cs/latestresearch/a/celiac.htm
www.celiac.com
I need a new jacket. It’s freezing outside and I am shivering. So I head out to Urban Outfitters to see if I can find a good one. I walk into the store. Scene kids and style demagogues abound. I find the men’s section and begin to try on the jackets. I ask myself, Which one defines me? Which one will fit me like a glove? Which one will send the message to the world I am looking for about myself? I move from jacket to jacket, but none seem to fit quite right. Should I settle for one that does not define me perfectly, one that does not enhance my persona in direct proportion to my dollars spent?
Then, a familiar voice interrupts my search.
“Hey man, long time, no see!” the voice says to me.
It’s a friend from my former church, one I haven’t seen in nearly a decade. This is the same church I left when a majority of the leadership fell into various forms of scandal.
“Hey man! What’s up?” I exclaim. I am genuinely excited to see this long-lost face.
“What have you been up to lately?” He asks me.
“Lots of travel, writing, music, etc. The usual. You?”
“Working, spending time with family.”
“Great man, it’s so good to see you. Have you been going to church?”
“You know, I have really had a hard time finding one that fits me. I was going to Blahblahwhatshisface’s church for awhile but the pastor kind of bored me. And the worship director got fired for some shady activity. The new worship is kind of lame, now. I don’t know. I try to get plugged into places but it just doesn’t ever feel quite right to me. Do you know what I mean?”
“I definitely know what you mean…” I respond.
We say our goodbyes, and I go back to shopping for the jacket that will define me completely as a 21st century human male, pondering the conversation I just had. But I don’t find the perfect jacket, and I end up shivering outside on the walk back to my car.
I can’t help noticing the parallels between my search for a jacket and my never-ending, frustrating hunt for a church which will meet my spiritual needs; I usually end up feeling left out in the cold.
I can’t tell you how many times I speak with people who say they cannot find a place of fellowship, or say that they just left their old congregation for one reason or another, or say they are fed up with not being able “plug in” somewhere. And as the disappointments mount so does our disillusionment….
I left the church I was attending because the I didn’t like the pastor’s teaching style.
I left the church because the worship was lame.
I left the church because I couldn’t connect with people.
Still others hop and jump, trying on a different sanctuary every single week, only to find that each and every one is, sadly, far from what they are looking for. The numbers are staggering–thousands and thousands of believers in evangelical culture without a place they can call home, admitting that most weeks they would rather stay home for NFL football than attend a service that is…less than inspiring. But no matter the individual reason, at the core of our qualms with local churches is the same basic concern: we cannot seem to find a place that meets our individual “needs.” We cannot seem to find a place that offers genuine relationships with true brothers and sisters, while offering solid teaching, worship, and a children’s ministry.
Why is it so hard to find a home? Why do churches so often let us down?
There are answers to these questions, my friend. And I promise you the “right church for you” is right around the corner. It just isn’t going to look the way you think it will…
To better understand our difficulty in connecting with a particular congregation, we have to first understand the identity problems that the church, as a whole, is facing today (and by the church “as a whole” I mean the body of believers spread throughout the world, and in particular, western culture). And by identity crisis I mean this: There is more division between individual churches in the same denomination than perhaps any other point in history. Why?
Competition.
Fail to compete, and completely fail.
It’s simple capitalism, and it is the basis for our very existence in America. Supply and demand. A citizenry of purchasers and entrepreneurs and consumable goods is what dominates our lives in this country. We are consumers first, believers second. At least, that is the trend in general culture, along with christian culture as well. We lead lives that are fully customizable, from our twelve-pump, nonfat, no-foam, single-shot of sugar-free caramel lattes to our I-pod/DVD enhanced, four-screened, anti-lock braked, automated lumbar control, Saturn, Scion SUVs. We click a button and music plays, movies play, groceries are delivered to our doors. Church is too much like…work. And the thought of having to settle for one that doesn’t completely “fit” us? Ridiculous.
Stick with me here. There’s more.
So, as churches compete for the allegiance of an attention-deficited culture, we become programmed to treat fellowship like every other part of their lives: as fully customizable. And plainly put, most evangelical churches are about attracting people above all else. This means in order to be successful they have to be attractive. And they function more like a big business machine than an organic family. And the “successful” churches have gotten it down to a science: Here’s how:
1. Have a celebrity pastor who steers the ship. He must be a charismatic figure, yet possess the every-man quality. He must be a great speaker who entertains as well as he teaches. Me must be adept at the skill of storytelling, and must have some comedic skills. He must embody the face of a hero in some form.
2. Big-production, with contemporary, classic-rock influenced worship. This should also include a charismatic “frontman” for the band. If attendees do not desire to take part in worship, they can at least absorb some quality entertainment.
3. Catchy marketing, slogans, signs, decoration, and logos are a must! This includes everything from the decor in the lobby to the graphics on the bulletin.
4. The occasional Christian celebrity author/musician as a guest performer should become a monthly staple. This will attract “newcomers,” which are really just believers who might have gone somewhere else to church that Sunday.
5. A ministry for every demographic. Men’s group. Singles. Women’s group. College. High School. Junior high. Elementary. Pre-school. Bikers. Jocks. Dweebs. Burnouts. Cheerleaders. Or am I talking about the movie The Breakfast Club?
6. A youth program complete with a youth room that has fifteen thousand TV monitors and thirty-eight XBOX 360s, and a sound system that would raise Elvis. Must have a catchy name for the group like “The Happening” (yes, based on the movie!) or “The Haven” or “The Underground” (oooh…subversive!).
7. Varied services for individual taste. We have the rock worship service. We have traditional worship night. We have screamo worship Saturdays. We have no worship Thursdays. We have in-depth study
10 A.M. in the parking lot. We have the short message service for those with Restless Leg Syndrome. And don’t forget the 20-minute workout service, where everything just plays on a screen at double-speed. Twice the spiritual workout in half the time!
8. Hype your own church as the “place to be.” Subtly point out through media, announcements, and other outlets of communication that although people had many choices for church that Sunday they chose the “best” one. Make sure to hype your church as being on the forefront of Christian activity in your area.
And on and on and on. Why not just have a long list of check boxes on a computer screen for every person that walks through the door on Sunday, where every person fills out a survey, then the computer spits out a list of recommended activities, services, etc. Or maybe can just gives you a page that says in black block letters “YOU JUST WON’T FIT HERE, TRY THE CHURCH UP THE STREET.”
Now, I keed, I keed. But only a little. I know none of these “attraction elements” are inherently wrong in and of themselves, and most of them are inherently right for the most part. But I can’t help feeling the irony in the fact that as evangelical culture tries harder and harder to meet the individual needs of every consumer/believer possible, that most of us feel less and less like we are attending the gathering of the body of believers and more that we are attending a movie or a broadway show or a concert–perhaps all three rolled into one. Instead of bringing us together as a body, it feels like we are being pulled apart. We show up, put in our time, and leave with a seven-point list of things God wants to do for us this week. Then we drive home and forget about the whole thing. Or post it on the fridge. Or leave it in a heap of papers to gain dust. And though there are so many great people at church it is so difficult amidst all this to actually just make friends and develop real relationships.
All we really want is to have true connection with a group of believers. True fellowship. That is the purpose of church.
Now, I have a question or two of my own here:
What if the way to for a church to “meet our needs” was to go against the cultural trends of consumerism and competition?
What if we, as young churchgoers, are shopping, looking for all the wrong things for all the wrong reasons?
These are questions that are being asked not only by people like you and I, but prominent voices in the church as well. I was able to catch up with Mike Erre, speaking pastor of Rock Harbor Church in Costa Mesa, CA, and Ken Baugh, head pastor of Coast Hills Church in Aliso Viejo, CA recently. Both teach to a congregation numbering in the multi-thousands, whose demographics include a large percentage of young adults. Erre states the following regarding these issues:
“We have reduced the church to one, hour-and-a-half event per week; we have reduced the gospel to cater to felt needs and personal preferences; and we have reduced discipleship to optional private spiritual exercises…We are raised with so many options we are paralyzed by the possibility of something better…God/church simply gets added to the list of things we consume…the problem is that much of the ‘attractional’ church has fostered this understanding by catering to it…”
It’s comforting to know that some in places of higher leadership are acknowledging that these are big problems for each of us; without connection to a body, a group of communal support, our faith will be choked-off. The Christian faith is not a faith built for an isolated, loosely-connected network of introverts. We HAVE to be plugged in or we will die spiritually. So, talk of the acknowledgment of the dilemma is one thing. What is the church willing to do about it? Baugh has an interesting answer:
“I think that Sr. Leadership needs to continually make sure that young adults are allowed significant roles of responsibilities in the church. It’s interesting to me that in the United States military you will find young men and women put in charge of brigades and multimillion dollar equipment, yet rarely in our churches will you find them even allowed to do much more than help out with students or children ministries. I don’t think that young adults should serve as Elders because elders are called elders for a reason (they are old) but I do think we need to give them more and more responsibilities in key areas of decision-making and ministry.”
There is little doubt that by keeping young people on the sidelines and reducing them to observers of the spectacle that is a church entertainment service will do little to foster lasting, passionate disciples. Christ was not a teacher of the masses first and foremost. He was a healer and a disciple-maker, and a person who connected twelve individuals who became best friends. It is the church’s responsibility not only to teach, but to empower us to use our gifts–and provide the opportunities to do so as well.
But finding those opportunities–which are everywhere if we’ll look–is a responsibility that falls on us as individuals.
Baugh had this to say as well:
“I think the whole mindset of finding a church to ‘meet my needs’ is flawed. As believers, we are to be part of a local body of Christ to serve, fellowship, grow, and give to the ongoing work of the Great Commission. I think the question should be: ‘Where can I best become involved in a Bible teaching church where I can use my gifts and become part of a community that loves God and serves others?’”
Evangelical churches must understand that making the church relevant through trying to “meet people where they are” is a valid philosophy to attract numbers. But, it is a flawed approach when numbers become the end in and of itself. Relationships should take precedence over the spectacle. And Christians should not be viewed as marketing targets who are to be stolen from other congregations. And finally, churches must stop viewing other ministries as rivals. In short, tone down the bright lights, and turn up the message. Do anything and everything to put emphasis on community, rather than entertainment, rather than your particular church.
But we as individual “church shoppers” must realize there are problems with every single church. Let me repeat that: there are problems with every single church. There are lame people in every one. There is gossip in every one. There are weird, awkward people in every one. Pastors are going to screw up, the music might suck, and the greeter at the door might turn her nose up at you when you enter. When these things happen, remember that none of those things matter. Do not be distracted by these things. People are always going to be flawed. That’s why they need Christ. And you know what? You are there to bring more of Him to that place. You are there to give of yourself, to humble yourself, to make relationships with people you might not normally associate with for the sake of something greater than you.
Offer to apply for leadership. Offer to help with a mission trip. Go feed homeless people. If you go with intent to give of yourself in any and every way possible, I promise the sucky worship leader or the yawner sermons will not matter.
If we walk actively and raise our voices, we will connect. If we sit passively, expecting to be catered to, we will be left in the cold.
