David Crowder's New Book

This morning I was thinking about death, and how maybe I think about death more than the average person. I think about my own death and about other people dying quite a bit. I used to think about myself dying a lot when I was younger. I never felt invincible the way teenagers are supposed to. But now I think about other people dying more often than my own death, so when I picked up David Crowder and Mike Hogan’s new book today at Borders (and by "picked up" I do mean "took to the café and back down to the shelf") I believed it to be timely and therefore the book is now my favorite.
Everybody Wants To Go To Heaven But Nobody Wants to Die or (the eschatology of bluegrass) drew me in for the duration of all 261 pages and one restroom break. Let’s first get one thing out of the way.

Eschatology (n.): The part of theology concerned with death and the final destiny of the soul and of humankind.

When I was as young as seven I remember lying awake at night staring at my nightlight and weeping over the inevitable death of my parents. I was trying to prepare myself for the awful day that nobody is ever prepared for. Since then I am able to cry on command at the mere thought of their burial. This quirk came in handy in my drama classes, but it does very little to ameliorate my profound emotions. Sometimes I think about my husband, Patrick, dying and what I would do afterwards, and how I might react, and who I would call first. I also bawl at the thought of my college roommate, Dayle, dying all the way over in Nova Scotia. I get queasy when I think of my friend Melanie dying in any situation. Also my friends, Jill and Sean. When I think of their four children dying I shut down completely because my mind doesn’t even let me go there. I also shut down at the thought of Twin Sister Heather dead, or Aunt Carole. Etc. They are all still alive. Sometimes I save their voice messages on my cell phone in case I need to hear their voices after they’re gone. Is this normal? Anyway.

On page 8 of the book’s introduction (there is an intro and a prologue, both of which I usually skip in most books except this one) the authors write,

"The thing about grief is that it makes it terribly difficult to see
further than the feelings that are in your chest. It sets a tint over your
world. Everywhere you look is colored and blurry from the heart’s
sinking."

I’ve only known this type of grief while mourning the end of relationships. Somehow no one I’m close to has died yet. The fear is in the total lack of control and the appearance of finality. This finality and the afterlife are discussed in the book, literally, as in the form of instant messaging. But what do grief and the afterlife have to do with bluegrass music?

"There is an eschatology to bluegrass music that holds both suffering and hope.
Both are inherent and necessary items within it." -page 9

I feel the same way about comedy. When I see or hear or meet an intensely humorous person I assume immediately that he or she is acquainted with grief, and has personally mined hope out of the deepest recesses of sorrow with bare, wet hands and refined it into something useful and positive.

"This book is a study of grief and the soul. It is a book about the pain that
absence can bring. It is about the sharpness of memory that eventually dulls
into something we both fear and pray for. It is a book about dying." - page 10

But it is so much more than that. Crowder and Hogan weave a narrative with a series of creative stories, correspondences, and world history to present a heartbreakingly superb presentation of the grieving process and the hope of moving forward.

Also explained is the difference between the violin and the fiddle: a question that has plagued my mind for weeks and the answer is "not much." It’s all in attitude, style, and whether or not tuxedos are introduced. I am somewhat embarrassed that I did not know this answer sooner, given my hillbilly background (I can’t deny my roots).

I noticed this book does not currently possess any book awards blooming on its cover and that is of the utmost disgrace. I hereby bestow praise in the form of the illustrious and much sought-after "Raddie Award" courtesy of The Free Radical.

Flirt to Convert?

And speaking of witnessing, I came across a website today that left me stunned in horror.
I am almost completely pretty sure DatetoSave.com is just a parody, but they went so far as to order a whole line of cafe press t-shirts to sell online.

Some of the site's Question/Answers go like this:
Doesn't God look down on missionary dating and tells us to not be "yoked with unbelievers"?

I looked up yoked, and the dictionary says it's a "A crossbar with two
U-shaped pieces that encircle the necks of a pair of oxen or other draft animals
working together." I would never encourage anybody to do this on a date... I
think the thing that is more important is that we should use our talents for
God. If you're really good at dating, or just really really good looking, then
you should use that to bring souls to God.

Should you date one person until he comes to Christ, or should you date lots of people?
Jesus told us to reach the "outermost parts of the world." I mean, I'm not going to fly to Kenya and date some guy who eats worms, but I think for me, "outermost parts of the world" means all the hot guys that live around me here in Fremont, California. But, God told me not to be a polygamist, so the goal would be to dump your boyfriend before witnessing to your next one. If you follow my tips, you should have no problem!

Now, in the light of the fact that I was sort of witnessed to by proxy yesterday (since I happened to be sitting at a table with my friend who is Jewish), the discovery of this website puts a whole new spin on yesterday's observations.
This witnessing "technique" swings to the other side of the spectrum on a plus/minus personal engagement scale. I complained yesterday that the smudged flyers targeted for Jews to become "even more Jewish" were a little spooky in their paper boy style of delivery. I criticized for lack of interaction. But here we have a parody, based on truth, of a little too much interaction and engagement.
I have friends who admit to a history of "missionary dating," and all of them speak of the past with a note of regret and embarrassment because they realized too late that they didn't care about the other person as much as they cared about fulfilling their own desires. It was never really about sharing the Gospel, but more about having a date every weekend and then dragging the date to church where he or she could possibly hear the Gospel in the sermon given by someone else. Mission accomplished.

Spooky and sketchy.

Litterbug Evangelism

Today at lunch I went with some friends to Armadillo Willy’s, or “A-Willy’s” as we like to call it. At the end of our meal we relaxed for a moment and a group of elderly ladies came through the door and wandered the restaurant to find a place to sit down. They must have passed us at least twice as they circled around. I only noticed because they were all wearing varying shades of purple and red- mixed. They stood out, is what I’m trying to say.
We were in the middle of a conversation and I was talking about a youth camp I went to where I was a leader, because today I happen to be wearing the free t-shirt they gave me, and because last night I ran into one of the girls in my group, who happens to be a very close friend now. And as my friends and I were talking, one of the elderly ladies came up behind Eric and slid some papers near his elbow on the table and quickly disappeared.
We stared at the papers silently, as if they might ignite any second.
“Did she just put trash on your table?” I asked. It looked like trash, like maybe she was walking by and looked down to find a few scattered pieces of paper and decided Eric’s table was the best place to put them. And then run.
When the papers did not spontaneously combust, Eric passed one to me and to Victoria and kept one for himself.
“Shalom,” it began, “have a great day!” The red cursive heading was smudged in some places, and in the upper corner was a picture (clip art) of a furry animal dressed in blue denim overalls and frolicking across the page, eyes shut with joy and a wide toothless grin.
“You don’t know me, but I am a born again Jew (or completed Jew). This is because I have come to know Jesus (“Yeshua” is His Hebrew Name) as the Messiah. Yeshua Hamaschiach, Jesus the Messiah…” We skimmed the page quietly, front and back, as the letter explained the Gospel and salvation through Jesus Christ.
“Hey, I’m a Jew,” Eric said.
“She spelled ‘schmooze’ wrong,” Victoria said.
“Really, where?” I asked. Sure enough, near the bottom of the page was in invitation to call a certain phone number and “ask for help or if you just want to ‘shmooze,’ pray or talk.”
I twisted in my chair to find the lady but I couldn’t see her around us. This is the first time since I became a Christian that anyone has tried to witness to me, and I wanted to know who it was. I realize that this was her witnessing tool, and that she is trying to spread the Gospel. And that’s great. I encourage spreading the Gospel always. But her approach smacks of the social grace of a hand-grenade. Toss it and hide. There was no personal interaction, no engagement. She’s probably shy, I know. But from my perspective as a Christian, and Eric’s perspective as a Jew, and Victoria’s keen perception of spelling errors, I have to admit this near-interaction was a bit spooky.
I’ve only been witnessed to twice:
Once in downtown Santa Cruz when I was fifteen a college boy approached me and my friend on a bench while his buddies huddled a few feet away praying for us. The nice young man walked us through a comic book that explained Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection, and I looked into this young man’s eyes politely and elbowed my friend in the ribs to make her stop laughing. Afterwards the young man asked us if we would like to pray to get into Heaven. All we had to do was say a simple prayer and we could spend forever in Heaven. I told him, “No thank you, because if I’m going to pray to God I want to mean it and if I say this prayer right now I don’t think I’ll mean it.” He was pleasant and patient, and tried again to close the deal but I knew that simply repeating a prayer without meaning it would be like lying to God. And I didn’t want to lie to God.

That same year I was with my same friend in Scotts Valley, specifically at Kmart. I was waiting outside by myself because my friend liked to shoplift so I leaned against the wall and stared at traffic. Suddenly a car packed with kids my age came careening though the parking lot and I saw a blur of manic grins and a bunch of hands waving. Did I know them? Did they know me? It couldn’t have been any of my friends because none of my friends ever smiled. Or waved. I ignored them, thinking they mistook me for someone else.
Nope. Seconds later a boy and a girl bounded over to me as if we should embrace, as if we’ve been separated for years against our will and now we are reunited. I froze. I was about to be mugged and if any surveillance cameras picked it up all they would see is a couple of smiling, happy kids approach a young girl wearing a spiked collar, black cocktail dress, zebra-striped tights, and steel-toed military boots. Nobody would believe they were the bad guys.
Instead the greeted me and shook my hand and they were physically unable to hold still, a light jaunt in each step escaping their excited little legs.
“HEY! What’s YOUR name?” They asked a little too loudly.

“Um. Jody.”

“Wow, that’s GREAT, Jody! Hey, didyouknowthatJesuslovesyouanddied
foryouandwantstobeyourSaviorandyoucangotoHeavenorprayto
himandhewilllistencauseheisGodandyoucanbehappyandnever
belonelybecausehewillbewithyouinyourheartforverandever
andeverandisn’tthatgreatyoucanbehappy?”

“Wait. What?” I fiddled with my spiked collar. I found security in this small routine.

“Okay, it was great meeting you, Jody, we hope we see you around again, okay? Bye!” And just like that they were gone. I had no idea what just happened. When my friend came out of the store with bulging pockets I tried to describe the scene but found it useless, because I didn’t understand it myself.
“These kids just came up to me and acted like they knew me but they didn’t know me and they were talking to me but it all happened so fast I—and the thing was they were really happy and cheerful and how come we’re never like that? We’re always so…so…so”
“What are you talking about?” My friend asked.
“It’s…nothing. Nothing.” The weird thing about that weird thing with those weird kids was this: They presented a gospel where I didn’t have to do anything at all, not even pray a simple prayer or repent of sin or anything. I knew something was missing but I couldn’t articulate that giant gaps in the Gospel message do not lead one down a straight and narrow path.

And today, ten years later, I obtain a loose leaf flyer in large print that does explain the Gospel message pretty well, but there is no one to relate with and even though there is contact information included I would prefer something more organic. I’d like to look transformation in the eyes. I think this style of evangelism could work, because apparently it does. Even though I’ve never met anyone who picked up a gospel tract in a public restroom and suddenly met God I have heard of this sort of thing happening. Nothing is impossible with God. But does a person really feel loved and cared for when a random stranger tosses would-be trash onto their lunch table, hoping they’ll read at least part of it? The reason I ask is because there appears to be no investment in the person you would be reaching out to. There is an implied message that could be misread, saying, “Read it if you want but it doesn’t matter to me either way. I’m just doing my job to spread the Gospel. What you do with it isn’t any of my business.” I would so much rather invest time and energy into seeing someone come to know Christ because that’s what someone once did for me. Instead of being silent messengers and litterbugs I think we ought to be a demonstration of Christ.

Baruch HaShem and Shalom!

In Jesus' Name, I'll take Two Dozen (They're on SALE!)

If you’ve ever received a Jesus junk catalogue in the mail then perhaps you can identify with my “sudden” awareness of the possibility that much of this junk is mass produced in sweatshop around the world. How else can they offer 35 “Jesus Loves Me” pencils for a dollar, or various hand-crafted gift ideas described in misleading proportions for only $6.99 plus S & H? This realization was “sudden” for me because when I glanced through the catalogue in the past, and even (wince) bought a few Christmas tree ornaments from said catalogue, the thought occurred to me that many of the products resemble dime-store quality merchandise manufactured in sweatshops. I didn’t quite take this thought a step further and question if the products are actually from sweatshops. Many of the featured products are targeted at Christian classrooms or home schools; little prizes that may or may not have been assembled by tiny hands, but are definitely Made in China or Bangladesh or a third world, excuse me, “underdeveloped” country where the monstrous factories fail to contribute to the local economy.
Last night the thought completed itself when I realized the implications of large mail order retailers mass producing substandard toys and trinkets with the name JESUS emblazoned anywhere on the surface. If some of this merchandise is made in sweatshops then we need to consider whether or not a deal is a deal, especially when it is at the expense of low wages and poor working conditions or small children making toys for other small children for 16 hours a day. As Christians we should be aware of this problem, especially if the products are from a “Christian” company.
I know of some Christian trinket retailers who mass produce out of regulated factories in Ohio or somewhere, and some claim that although they make their products in other countries they maintain fair trade laws to ensure proper working conditions and adequate wages. But when all the junk looks alike how do you tell the difference? I’d rather not buy any of it at all if I don’t know where it came from. It’s not like you can just ask the company these kinds of questions and expect them to answer with, “Why, yes, we make a profit by exploiting human beings around the world. Be sure to check out next season’s newest line of hand-crafted scripture-stamped coffee mugs!”
Imagine the irony of broken child labor laws and sweatshop manufacturing to produce items marketed to the Christian sub-culture that is supposed to be protecting people from this kind of exploitation! It seems so foolish and sad. I wonder if they can read the gospel, in English, while they sew bible cases together or stamp the name of Jesus on plastic toys- a name that enslaves them to a cycle of labor rather than setting them free? I don't know how to go about investigating the origins of this type of merchandise, but I do want to be more aware of it if I buy this kind of stuff.

Owned, Week 2: "What's My Role?"

This morning we discussed the parable of the talents in Matthew 25:14-30. The focus of this week’s message was obedience to our Master, and using the resources He gives us for His purposes, which will result in what Charlie describes as His "smile."
I liked the comparison of borrowing another person’s belongings, and the way we treat them as much more valuable than our own out of respect for the other person. But if we start to look at our "stuff," including our spiritual gifts, as someone else’s (God’s) perhaps we might use them differently.

"Well done, my good and faithful servant."
These are the words I would love to hear from our Master. However, I have to ask myself in what areas of my life might I instead hear, "You wicked, lazy servant?" What resources or gifts am I burying rather than using for God’s kingdom? The answer to these questions come easily for me because I have shamefully hidden some of what God has entrusted to me, and the result has been years of much weeping and gnashing of teeth. I admit openly that I have hidden a God-given artistic ability, and I don’t admit this to draw attention to myself as a struggling and misunderstood artist, but to openly acknowledge my own disobedience. This week, the Mosaic art exhibit revealed more to me than I bargained for, and served as the perfect example of the parable of the "talents."

Mosaic
The Mosaic art exhibit this morning displayed many exquisite drawings, painting, sculptures, and photographs. We are truly blessed to have so many artistic people in the community! One of the many pieces on display was a surfboard sacrificed for artistic purposes. If that’s not evidence of a heart devoted to God...! A few years ago I broke my surfboard on some rocks and it never occurred to me to "re-purpose" the damages for art. Instead I leaned the jagged remains against my front porch like a broken tombstone marking the end of my short-lived surfing career. Again, much weeping and gnashing of teeth.
The purpose of Mosaic, as Erica describes it, was "worship through art." This phrase bounced off my forehead several times before penetrating, because I’ve never heard of such a form of worship. The idea is utterly foreign to me. I wondered if it was even legit. It raised some questions in me that demanded answers. An art show at church? Great idea! But, art as worship...huh? I spent this entire day on the beach, pondering such possibilities.
A lot of people don’t know that I was once an art minor long, long ago before I became a Christian. In fact, many people are surprised when the subject comes up because apparently I hide this talent very well. So well that I encounter physical difficulty when admitting that I have artistic talent. I stutter over the words. It’s not natural.
I have never been encouraged in the arts as a Christian, so I was excited to hear about Mosaic in the first place. I accepted the misguided notion that artistic ability is not useful in God’s kingdom. And blogging? That’s a gift? But anybody can do it! It’s pretty much easy. But as we learned today, when God calls you to do something you should really do it. So here I am, submitting artwork to a church for the first time in my life, and later blogging about it- both of which are talents I didn’t consider before this morning to be (a) a calling, or (b) a God-given gift.

I had some time to myself today so I spent it roasting on the beach and willing myself to find scripture that supports artistic ability within the Body of Christ. I’ve heard it said that art has no place in a house of worship, partly because it draws attention away from God and places it on the artist. The glory is not properly distributed. However, I can finally refute this argument now that I quit being lazy for a day and searched God’s word on what He has to say about artistic people. Before I get into the exciting part, I do want to mention that I like what Erica said about not feeling particularly confident in musical worship, and that she is more likely to express worship through visual art. Even though she participates in worship songs she goes beyond that to further her expression of praise. That’s awesome. I wish I had thought of that. Again, much weeping and gnashing of teeth on my part.
The first exciting passage in scripture I found that supports artistic expression is in the book of Exodus, which might now be my favorite book.
Exodus 36:1-2, speaking of the building of the Tabernacle, says:

"...and every gifted artisan in whom the Lord has put wisdom and
understanding, to know how to do all manner of work for the service of the
sanctuary, shall do according to all that the Lord has commanded. And Moses
called...every gifted artisan in whose heart the Lord had put wisdom,
everyone whose heart was stirred, to come and do the work."

Is that exciting or what? God actually called artists- by name- for His purpose! And stirs their hearts! But wait! There’s more!

Exodus 31: 3- 6 states:

"And I have filled him with the Spirit of God, in wisdom, in understanding, in
knowledge, and in all manner of workmanship to design artistic works...and to
work in all manner of workmanship. And I, indeed I...have put wisdom in the
hearts of all the gifted artisans, that they may make all that I have commanded
you."

Gasp. Artists were used for the completion of the Tabernacle, where God Himself dwelt. Now WE are the tabernacle, and God dwells in us, so how much more should we be sensitive to His calling?
God provides the necessities to complete the task before us. Artists are called by God to produce quality work. Obviously, we must not make art our focus. God should always be our focus, but we can use visual art to express devotion and obedience to Him!
This is pretty much the best day of my life. I can now sleep at night knowing I’m not some kind of miscreated anomaly with a counterfeit burden to praise Almighty God through a collection of art supplies stuffed in the uppermost corner of the closet in the guest bedroom, adorned with cobwebs, and God knows how many spiders have since crawled among my inactive tools. How thrilling to know I no longer have to be the wicked, lazy servant anymore!

Church Marketing Sucks- But Ours Doesn’t!

I’ve recently been visiting a website called Church Marketing Sucks, whose “mission is to frustrate, educate and motivate the church to communicate, with uncompromising clarity, the truth of Jesus Christ.” Church Marketing Sucks is actually a blog that opens up a discussion on how a church communicates to one another and to the public at large. I checked in on their blog today and immediately considered a few things.
First, the Genesis marketing machine does not suck. We have an awesome new website in Flash with promise to become awesome-er, we have podcasts, frequent updates, even a blog, (can anyone tell me how to locate the Genesis blog link on the website? I can’t find it anywhere! kidding). All of these efforts function as a way to extend truth and genuineness within and beyond the walls of Monschke Hall. But if our “church marketing” sucks not, then why even bring it up?

Derek Webb, you’ll hear me quote him often, says our art shouldn’t suck. I am still trying to locate the exact interview he shared with Don Miller this year, but to paraphrase his words Derek said we should make an attempt at good art and good music because we are being lazy not to, and perhaps in this case good marketing should be attempted. I’m not talking about packaging a product and selling it for a profit. I speak more of the importance of representing what Genesis is all about and who we are, and what our role is in this community.

Before I settled on attending Genesis regularly I did my share of church hopping. I wanted to weigh my options fairly and take a practical approach to making such an important decision. But for all my calculated thinking and copious note-taking God proved to be sovereign once again and ultimately led me back to Genesis every other week. And it wasn’t due to effective marketing, but more so to a compassionate shepherd who physically writhed with empathy when I introduced myself, and to a solid group of people who told me they were praying for me- and not in a condescending way that makes you feel like more of a topic of conversation than a simple prayer request. And when I walked through the door I met with a community that encourages you to find your identity in Christ rather than lose it. These are services that cannot be sufficiently presented in any marketing campaign.
And this was the trouble I kept finding as I shopped for a church. I visited each church’s website before visiting in person and what I found is that a church website does not always adequately represent the church itself. What I mean is, a church might publish a statement of beliefs that jive with your own statement of beliefs. But when you visit in person you learn that the statement of beliefs in questions has not been updated for fifteen years, plus all of the contact information is incorrect. And I visited one church that had a modest website with just basic information one might need to navigate busy intersections, and when I arrived I was impressed by the fantastic worship music and the teaching- neither of which was discussed on the website. So let’s be realistic and admit that most people check a church’s website before attending, and that’s fine as long as the representation is clear, accurate, and inviting. And a website is considered a marketing tool.

I currently work in the field of marketing. I am in fact a “Marketing Manager.” How good I actually am at marketing is up for debate. But I’ve picked up a few initiatives while working for The Man.
For instance, yesterday a friend of mine at work came in two minutes past quittin’ time to thumb through some of our brochures and to ask, “Where can I find some good benefits language? I’m writing copy for a brochure and I need some good benefits language.” I blinked at him in response. Benefits language? I don’t know. My friend needed to know how to communicate the features of his program to a population in some ‘benefits’ industry in a way they would understand, or at least be captured by. He needed to become like them in order to reach them effectively.
Jesus did the same thing when he spoke in the language of the masses and when he used cultural applications to explain spiritual leadership, heaven, hell, sin, and living water. He became like them in order to use industry terms that they would understand, such as the shepherding, fishing, farming, and water-toting illustrations that symbolized spiritual relevance. I’m not reducing Jesus to a mere marketer by any means, but once again we see that God is a proponent of common sense. His angle was not to confuse us with lofty phrases and alienating remarks, but to speak plainly and openly because he wants us to comprehend His meaning.
I hope that we can continue in His example and speak openly with each other.

Phil Wickham's new CD

Meet Phil Wickham

This is the cd I've had on 'repeat' for days now. Phil has been singing and writing worship songs for most of his life and he is amazing! You can check out his website and listen to some songs at www.philwickham.com

New Genesis Website!

It's live!

The new Genesis website is so rad!

Also- don't forget Mosaic Day this Sunday. Bring your art for display.

I'll bring something in if you do!

Church, meet Stepford. Stepford, Church.

I just returned from a trip to my home state of Idaho. I noticed a street sign in a rural district that read “Chicken Dinner Road.” Really? Chicken Dinner Road? Do they have to feed the stereotype? As an Idaho native, I’m embarrassed and appalled.
But I would rather live on Chicken Dinner Road in a farming community than buy a house in a Christian ghetto. The Tennessean reports that new “Christian-themed subdivisions” are cropping up to cater to that country home fantasy hidden deep in all our hearts.

Joe Swanson, a Tennessee developer, has caught on to the trend and is giving new meaning to the phrase “faith-based communities.”
“Swanson is not the only one who's found that, when it comes to real estate, faith can be an amenity.” I’d like to think faith in God can’t be canned, branded, and as Jim Wallis said during his talk last week, “commodified.” I like to meet people who share my beliefs. But I was once a person who spent a couple years surrounding myself only with fellow believers which caused my life to lack a profound richness and texture. It was a life that was unchallenging. All of the answers to life’s deepest questions were pre-packaged and delivered regularly and on time. There was little to question and little to ponder because someone else did it for me. I operated with an atomic mass that strove to reach a state of spiritual inertia.
It was a deadly lifestyle.
I don’t believe Swanson seeks to build a kind of Heaven on Earth bearing a striking resemblance to Suburbia. But his unique marketing is sure to draw a certain demographic. What appears to be cute street names and catchy titles could stand to divide people rather than gather them.
“Swanson said people of other faiths might not want to live in a neighborhood with a Christian name.” No kidding, I wouldn’t want to live in what could be misinterpreted as a glorified religious compound either but it’s a free country. What concerns me is a blatant disregard for Christ’s own command to "Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature." (Mark 16:15).
That, I’ll bet, is easy to do if all your neighbors are already in agreement with you.
Of course, not only homes but businesses are welcome in these zones.

“But their developments seem to be trying to sell a certain way of life. They're mixed-use developments, meaning commercial businesses will go in with the homes, but there are restrictions as to what can go in these areas. Banks and gas stations are going up, but don't expect to see anything that caters strictly to vices.”
Vices? I guess that rules out Starbucks. This is definitely not the sub-division for me! Last weekend Patrick and I high-tailed it out of a small town in Nevada when we learned (dramatic crescendo) there was...no...coffeeshop.
Obviously God calls us to certain parts of the earth, and some of us even have to “suffer” through life in Middle Class America day in...and day out... to reach everyone with the Gospel. But can this calling be hindered by our desire to seek comfort in home values and status symbols?

No other street name under heaven by which we must be saved?

The whole thing makes me think of a new book I’ve been reading called Born Again, by Kelly Kerney. Actually, it doesn’t make me think of it. I’ve just been looking for a way to introduce this book and now seems as good a time as any.
Born Again is a novel written by a self-proclaimed “recovering born-again Christian.” In it the protagonist, a thirteen year old girl named Melanie, wrestles with the human condition and perfectionism. She attends a Pentecostal church with her family and wins Bible Trivia Championships in her county, something for which she is very proud. Her struggles arrive when she is offered a scholarship to a secular academic summer camp where she has to read Darwin’s The Origin of Species. Overcome with the conviction that reading Darwin is a sin, Melanie sneaks a copy into her parents’ house to read under the cover of night. Melanie has only one friend, Beth, who is a Methodist which according to Melanie is “the same as not having any religion at all.” She promises God that if He lets her read Darwin she will personally deliver Beth’s soul.
However, Melanie is distracted from her mission when she learns of past mistakes her parents made, and learns the true character of her pastor, and eventually doubts her own faith.
Yes, it sounds tragic. But the overall delivery is humorous because the reader can sense that almost every religious character in the novel is trying to attain superficial, stereotypical spirituality- and that is my feeble connection to the aforementioned “Christian-themed sub-divisions.”
Melanie’s family was able to fool themselves by watching “The 700 Club” around the clock and taking notes on every word from Pat Robertson. They fooled themselves with all their heartfelt service at church, and Melanie fooled herself by adhering to every church-sanctioned pamphlet and booklet passed down to the youth group (“How to Survive a Secular Classroom” being among them). Their devotion to God was purely academic, especially when neighbors and schoolmates were able to distinguish their negative outward behavior.
Could this be the snare some might fall into when they move into “Christian-themed sub-divisions?” Would they proudly mark their Christmas card envelopes with pretentious street names such as “Covenant Crossing” or “Salvation Drive” and mail them out to the less fortunate brothers and sisters who live in squalor on “Chestnut” and “Willow Lane?” Would living in a sanctimonious subdivision further convince a person that he or she is indeed sanctified?

I live in Scotts Valley- in a trailer park. It's a "nice" trailer park, but there is only so much you can do to dress up a "Mobile Home Community," particularly when my house is sinking. The park is called "Vista Del Lago," but to be truthful it should be renamed "Roaring Harleys" or "Sinking Sands."
From my house, I can see at least seven other Christian households. Beyond my line of sight, there's no telling. Yet, nobody sticks a stake in the ground somewhere down the street to proclaim this neighborhood for God (at least not to my knowledge). If I knew how many Christians live in my "community" I would probably be convinced I am living in a compound and I must get out now. I guess it's all a mindset, really. In the Book of Acts the Christians lived among one another and shared their stuff. I doubt they hammered signs on their doors that read "Christian Safe-House."
We should consider ourselves lucky that we can live in a part of the world where we can call attention to ourselves as Christians and not suffer persecution, but does that mean we ought to exercise the right every time? To me it smacks of a lack of humility, of grandstanding and boasting in way. Instead of naming our surroundings after Biblical characters and terms can't we just live the Bible in our daily lives? I think that would truly create a "Christian-themed subdivision"- without pretense.

Owned: Week 1

Does anyone else love this logo? Where can I get a t-shirt in these colors?

Yesterday marked the introduction to the new series, "Owned." The text came from the always-exciting passages in Genesis 1-3. I am always amazed when I read these chapters because I am reminded of when I had to translate several passages for my Biblical Hebrew class at UCSC. If you ever have the opportunity to take Biblical Hebrew I recommend it! When I did my homework it stopped being about a lengthy assignment and suddenly became a very moving experience. I had a reverence for God's Word that I think is often forgotten when we simply read through Scripture.
While I was translating the words into English I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed that these are the words God used to speak to the prophets! It was also interesting to see how modern translations corroborate the original text, especially since Biblical Hebrew, by now a dead language, does not compare to any of our English roots. Those who are trained in root Hebrew may be able to translate the meanings given in scripture, but the rest is left to oral history and the Holy Spirit to reveal some of God's mystery. It's just amazing to look at one ancient word and meditate on its various meanings.

The message yesterday revolved around stewardship versus ownership. We, as followers of Christ, are stewards of His gifts and we are in effect owned- and not in the horrible, restrictive, exploited way but in a way that sets us free. Paul describes himself in some of the epistles as a "bondservant of Christ," one who freely chooses to serve his master.
In Biblical times, when a slave finished out his or her term with their master they were given a choice to leave or to remain in servitude to the master. Often, a slave would have lived with the master and his family for many years, growing close to the family and becoming a part of the household. The master provided for the slave and kept him safe. If the slave chose to stay with the family beyond the prearranged length of time then he or she became a "bondservant," and the master would drive a wooden dowel through the servant's ear. At the moment I can't recall the significance of the ear piercing, but it was customary and probably represented ownership by the master. That bondservant would then serve the master for the remainder of their days.

Charlie mentioned our tendency to feel a sense of entitlement when it comes to our possessions. We feel like we need to guard our belongings like a mama bear and swipe and anyone who comes close to threatening our stash. When in reality it all belongs to God, and we are merely stewards of his good gifts. A steward is like a bondservant, but with more managerial responsibilities. I think to truly grasp the essence of being owned by God we need to recognize His benevolent plan in our lives. We need to trust Him as our master. And we need to be responsible with the gifts he has given us, be they material or intangible, and the bear the proper attitude (ahem, unselfish attitude) while managing them.
This may be one of the more difficult concepts to follow, seeing as how our culture is accustomed to hoarding resources for ourselves, or conducting ourselves with righteous fanfaronade when we succeed. But there are fewer things more pathetic than when someone takes the glory from whom glory is due.

To switch subjects abruptly, here are the full lyrics from Derek Webb's "Rich Young Ruler" in case you didn't catch all of it yesterday:


Rich Young Ruler

poverty is so hard to see
when it’s only on your tv and twenty miles across town
where we’re all living so good
that we moved out of Jesus’ neighborhood
where he’s hungry and not feeling so good
from going through our trash
he says, more than just your cash and coin
i want your time, i want your voice
i want the things you just can’t give me

so what must we do
here in the west we want to follow you
we speak the language and we keep all the rules
even a few we made up
come on and follow me
but sell your house, sell your suv
sell your stocks, sell your security
and give it to the poorwhat is this, hey what’s the deal
i don’t sleep around and i don’t steal
i want the things you just can’t give me

because what you do to the least of these
my brother’s, you have done it to me
because i want the things you just can’t give me

Now that I re-read the lyrics, I guess it's not so much a deviation from what we've been talking about. It has a lot to do with what we talked about yesterday. Craig and Charlie probably planned it that way. Well! Someone's gotta overstate the obvious.

God's Politics: A Discussion

I just came home from the forum that featured Jim Wallis, author of God's Politics: Why the Right Gets it Wrong and the Left Doesn't Get It.
Pastor Rene was a member of a panel discussion that took place after Wallis' lecture and I'll touch on that in a little bit, but first I wanted to take note of the concept of a "street church."
We all know a lot of people who would decline an invitation to church simply because of the stigma placed on church-goers. But a lot of these people who avoid church hunger and thirst for righteousness just like any regular church-goer, it's just a matter of reaching out to them and sometimes we have to take our faith to the streets and live it out before others. I've heard it said that we need to "put feet to the Gospel" and walk around in it.
Last week Charlie mentioned a desire to reach migrant workers in our community, a population that is largely ignored and underappreciated although we depend on them so much. Obviously we would need to go to them personally to offer hope and life in Christ since they are unlikely to appear in a regular church service.
One of the many topics discussed tonight was how to join our faith with the moral and Biblical obligation of social justice. Wallis mentioned that recently a young person approached him and said, "I didn't know I could be a Christian and still care about poverty [or insert social cause here]."
I can identify with this person's moment of spiritual clarity because I only recently shook my head clear of foggy complacency towards mankind and realized I have a moral obligation towards social justice.
Before I became a Christian four years ago I was involved in volunteer programs to assist adults in learning to read and speak English. I offered my services to environmental causes. I declared my joy of babysitting to weary parents. At the time, I wanted every second of my day filled to capacity to avoid a fragile moment where I might break apart.
When I found my hope in Jesus I slowly slipped away from volunteer work to donate all of my time to attending multiple Bible studies every week. It didn't occur to me while I studied the Bible so closely to stand up for the oppressed. I enclosed myself in a self-contained Christian ghetto and ignored my identity. I became the stereotypical 'evangelical'- the kind that evokes images of midwestern white, middle-aged family men in the suburbs spending their weekends on non-alcoholic tailgating parties with their fellow sales buddies and swapping Christian T-shirts. I became religious in the cruelest sense of the word. I bought into the lie that we should not care about the environment because "it's all gonna burn anway!" Forget that the Bible tells us we should be good stewards of the land. I donated hard-earned cash to people on the other side of the world but passed beggars on the street like they were mere fixtures in the concrete landscape. I missed the point, but God is faithful to reveal all things to us and thankfully He did not let me rest easy in my carelessness.
About a year ago God opened my heart to allow what Wallis calls "a moral discourse on politics."

"The monologue of the Christian Right is finally over and a new dialogue has just begun."- Jim Wallis

In his book, Wallis describes the Right as 'comfortable' talking about faith, but allowing two main issues to define the party line: abortion and gay marriage. Very, very little mention is made of the fight against poverty or poor education.
It seems like the issue of poverty would be clear since there are over 2000 verses in the Bible exhorting us to take care of the poor. And a few examples of what can happen when we don't tell the truth about going to war.
The problem is simple, Wallis says. "We lack the moral and political will to end poverty and work towards social justice."
We forget that men like Charles Finney and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. fought for justice. Without a moral calling, "many would not have fought against slavery, or for women's suffrage, or for child labor laws."
Derek Webb sings in his song "Rich Young Ruler,"

poverty is so hard to see when it’s only on your tv and twenty miles across
town

where we’re all living so good that we moved out of Jesus’ neighborhood where
he’s hungry and not feeling so good from going through our trash he says, more
than just your cash and coin i want your time, i want your voice i want the
things you just can’t give me

As Christians, we are to gravitate towards what is unpleasant so that we may serve others. It doesn't seem a hard concept to acknowledge, but so difficult to follow.

Panel Discussion: Pastor Rene

Rene was given an opportunity to respond to Wallis' remarks this evening and I appreciated his train of thought. He said to Wallis, "Some evangelicals argue that we should be involved [in social justice]. BUT many of those who have gone before us have gained political power and lost spiritual power, lost Biblical authority. How do you maintain taking social responsibility seriously and still take the Bible seriously?"
I must say I've noticed this phenomenon myself. It seems that Christians who rise to some level of power feel the need to grasp onto some agenda and run blindly with it, disregarding major Biblical principles in exchange for greater authority. How do we reconcile the two?
Wallis' response was succinct. "You need faith to sustain the call God has on your life...In America the quest for spirituality is a dangerous thing. It can be commodified, controlled...it can write social justice off the program. However, the struggle for social justice can be a dangerous thing. There is the threat of burnout, anger, hateful feelings. We need to nourish social justice with faith."
Wallis reference several Biblical prophets such as Habakkuk, Micah, and Isaiah. I think I will make it my goal to re-read these books this week to gain a better understanding of the texts and how they apply to my life.

Until then, it's bedtime.

Welcome to the Genesis Blog!

I’d like to begin by writing on vulnerability and our willingness to humble ourselves before God, unaware of the people surrounding us. So often we become self-conscious when we know people are looking at us, listening to us, reading our blog. Becoming vulnerable is something I struggled with at first because what if readers think this first post is lame and never want to come back? What if the English majors reject my creative parsing of sentences? What if my writing voice falls flat and Pastor Charlie will be forced to pull me aside and explain Failure in soft, encouraging undertones punctuated by a polite pat on the shoulder and a thumbs-up for future endeavors? Craig and Erica and Haley will smile weakly and secretly understand why I’ve been rejected from Boise State’s creative writing MFA program, twice. The reason why so many editors have declined to publish my novel will radiate like Truth itself.
And then I’ll go home. Sit by a window…and sigh.

Ugh! Not even my hypothetical crises are compelling.

But then that still, small Voice stirs inside my heart, or general heart region, reminding me to kneel before God in quiet supplication and to dismiss fears and worries and simply write it all down. Be vulnerable.

This is not a place where anyone should feel discouraged or timid. The desire to please others can sometimes be our greatest setback. I believe that God would want us to share our thoughts openly, to bear one another’s burdens, and to edify one another by our actions and speech. Just as iron sharpens iron. To know one another’s strengths and weaknesses will better serve the whole body.

That said, I’ll go first. Later. Soon. I’ll write about how I became a Christian 4 years ago, but in the interest of time and your eye sight I’ll wait a day or two.

In the meantime, please send me your links: blogs, websites, even My Space pages. I’ll list them in the links column to the right and we can get to know each other. If you have suggestions for discussion topics just let me know!

Thanks for reading.

Love,
Jody