More than Morality.

I need God to be more than morality. Christianity has to be more than just doing what's right because I'm pretty good at that on my own, if we're being honest.

Maybe my logic is skewed but here's what I'm thinking. I need something. Something that is more than me or the people around me. Being "good" isn't going to fix my deep need for love and acceptance that isn't earthly. So I have this need that isn't going to be fulfilled by morality. And I have this God who says he loves me. He doesn't expect me to be anything before he'll love me.

He just will.

Rob Bell writes, "You are there; God is there. The difference is our awareness." It makes sense to me. You can't just accept the love of someone or something you've never met. It would be ridiculous and awkward. God's isn't awkward, I don't think. I think that the little nugget of his image that he implanted in me recognizes his glory. I can let him love me and wrap me in his strength because he is my potential; he is the atoms of my body and the roots of my soul. I walk in his rhythm.

I become aware.

I fail regularly. And it isn't about being good or bad, it just is me choosing my nature over God's. Here is what I love- Paul writes in Galatians 5:6 that "the only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love."

And the question now is not 'Who loves me?' rather, it is 'Who do I love?'.

Delores the Cruiser and Jerry the Enterprise Guy

Remember that time when my car got hit by the charter bus...? Well, today I took it to the body shop and got my rental car. (Which is smelly, mysteriously stained and happens to be a P.T. Cruiser named Delores, but that's not really why I'm writing this...) Anyway, I had a really interesting conversation with Jerry, the guy who picked me up from the body shop. Here's the gist:

Jerry: Are you a Campbell Student?
Me: Yeah.
Jerry: What are you studying?
Me: Religion and Christian Ministry, I work at a church in Raleigh.
Jerry: Oh, yeah? Teach me something.
Me: Uh.
Jerry: Just tell me something.
Me: Um.
Jerry: You have to teach me something.

He actually said that. A completely blank slate. Jerry just wanted to learn. Amazing. What do you say to someone who is so open to listening to you? Who just wants to hear a story from you?

"Teach me something."

This conversation got me thinking, because I rarely (if ever) expect to be taught anything. More specifically and even worse, I suspect I take that attitude with me to church on a regular basis. Growing up in church and studying different aspects of Christianity in school, I sometimes think I know everything. I feel like I don't even have to listen anymore. Geez, what an awful attitude to have... Do you guys ever approach church that way? Or am I the only one who thinks herself an expert on everything?

My mission is to change my way of thinking. I want and need to approach all people and all chances with Jerry's exact mindset-

Teach me something.

I hope you guys will hold me accountable.

Apathy.

It seems to me that the biggest challenge facing us is apathy.

Apathy: (n.) lack of interest, concern, or emotion; indifference.

The thing is that we really aren't apathetic to start off with. We're passionate; we care -until caring gets really difficult. It takes work to care. If you are deeply concerned with something, then you have to work to protect it. And so we stop. It is at this point, at this turning around, when we feel that we don't have what it takes to make a difference so we pack up and head home. Standing at a train stop, watching everyone else get on, shake your head, turn and leave.

That's how it works. I know because I've done it.

Everyday.

Why are we so afraid to look like we care? Why do we feel like we must be dispassionate about everything? Jesus was passionate about everything. He never worried about what people would think or whether or not he was too emotionally invested in a cause.

We're poisoned by our egos and our fear to admit our existence. Some lyrics from a Caedmon's Call song come to mind:

The same I can't deny this fallen world/ though not my home its where I live/ how can I preserve and light the way/ for a world I can't admit I'm in?

It seems that there are two kinds of Christians, the ones who are passionate about everything and who always seems to be working for a cause, and the ones who are too scared to get too invested in the world. I've been part of the second group for far too long.

Where are you?

So Much to Say...

...not the Dave Matthews Band song, rather, my utter fullness.

For those of you who don't already know, Andy, Matt, and I are at the National Youth Workers' Convention in Atlanta. I've been in seminars and sessions for two days and I have so many words floating around.

I've been sitting here trying to process everything I've taken in and I'm grasping to catch the remnants of the ideas before they slip away. In tonight's General Session, the speaker was a guy named Shane Claiborne. Shane is a very cool guy with a very cool story. He's been all over the world; he worked in Calcutta, India and Iraq. He was described tonight as a mixture of Mother Teresa, Bob Marley, and Bart Campolo. I was excited to hear what he had to say. I just knew that Shane Claiborne was going to open my eyes to a new and exciting truth.

And then he did something awkward. He didn't really preach or speak, even. He read. All of the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7). I kept expecting some great story of serving the homeless and sick on the streets of Calcutta... war victims, lepers, something.

But he just read. For a long time. And as the words poured out in his twangy banjo voice, I watched his face. And I saw his heart.

There was joy in his eyes, his voice. There was true delight in the laugh lines around his eyes. There were peace and love swinging in his dreadlocks.

On the other hand, a lot of people around looked uncomfortable. There were some murmurs; a few people left (in all fairness, I don't know if it was because of the reading). But Shane, Shane let Jesus keep speaking.

He ended with this: "Jesus, give us the courage to do this."

I did the surveying and interviewing. You told me you needed and wanted to learn the Bible. Go read the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew chapters 5-7). Read it out loud. Be awkward. It's beautiful. Let Jesus speak to you. Leave a comment about something that spoke directly to you. Let's talk about it.

Jesus, give us the courage to do this.

Ownership

I went to my niece's baby dedication this weekend and my big sister and I had a conversation about Hannah and Samuel in the Bible. I guess you could call it ironic, but I had been thinking about them before Kristi brought them up. This is a story that has always been really interesting to me. I am a possessive person, I guess, so Hannah's actions have always been, (what? surprising? unrealistic?) difficult for me.

If you don't have your Bible in front of you, here's the gist of 1 Samuel 1:1- 2:10. There's this guy named Elkanah and he has two wives, one of which is Hannah. Hannah was the favorite but she couldn't have any babies and that made her sad, even though Elkanah really loved her. So she truly, fervently prays to God, asking for a kid. And, eventually, she gets pregnant.

So (yay!) Hannah finally has a baby boy, named Samuel. Hannah takes care of little Sammy until he's too big to nurse and then she gives him to Eli, the religious leader, so Samuel can serve God. Literally. Gives the kid away. Gone. And then she praises God. Truly.

Now, my sister and her husband, Roger, committed in church that they would raise Leah Kate in church, wrapped in Christian community. Um, not quite the same thing Hannah did. I have a hard time giving away old clothes- I'm definitely not giving away something I've yearned for for years.

Here's my thought... there is so much inside me that hangs on to people and things. I want everything. It's mine. I think that "owning" something actually means it's mine. What a dumb idea...

If I'm going to give it to God, it has to be my idea, for my own purposes. Something is wrong with that.

What if the thing that I most desired was the first thing that I would return to God in praise? What would life look like?

That's the question, the challenge, find what you hold on to the very most, and give it up. You don't own it anyway.