Link: I'm Tom Cruise, and I'm in LOVE!!!

He’s definitely one of the finest actors of our generation—perhaps the greatest actor of all time. Ladies and gentlemen, meet Tom Cruise.

Testimony Time

Sometimes other bloggers inspire me to write. One in particular prompted me to comment on his post with a sort of testimony-in-a-nutshell.

Interactive Music

I love Peter Gabriel’s music. I’ve had his Hit collection for a while, but never looked closely at the liner notes until last night. In it I found something to tickle my fancy as both a music-lover and computer nerd.

If you’re at all like me and are intrigued by the idea of combining music, mixing, gaming, and trippy visuals, check out Noodle Heaven. Register, download the player, and experience the wonder.

Prayer Works, pt. 2

I realize that my previous post on prayer could be misconstrued as promoting a word-faith, name-it-and-claim-it theology. Let me set the records straight: I am no Kenneth Copeland.

Word-faith proponents claim that you can have any wish—financial or otherwise—if you only pray and believe. This idea is closely connected with the “prosperity gospel”, which teaches that God would like us all to be materially wealthy and healthy.

There is one significant difference between my recent revelation and the theology of the Word of Faith movement. I believe that with every prayer offered, there is a fine disclaimer stating that God reserves the right to say No, or Wait. I don’t believe that the results of my prayer are strictly based on me and my faith; after all, prayer is essentially a request to God. Word-faithers instead view prayers like demands.

Does this make sense? I want to make it clear that, even though I pray with expectation of an answer, I also understand that the answer I receive may not be exactly what I want. My prayers may not be aligned with God’s will for me at any given time. Even still, I can’t expect to receive something if I don’t ask for it (see James 4:2).

My goal here is to challenge the type of praying that seems to be more common among people I know: faithless praying. This type of praying is akin to making a Christmas-wish list and putting it in the mail addressed to Santa Claus at the North Pole—a pleasant idea, but fruitless. People don’t expect anything when they pray; or, they expect an inevitable No.

I am simply trying to achieve more “supernatural realism” (if I may propose such a term) in my prayer life. And it seems to be working.

Any thoughts? What is your experience on this?

Links: An Open Letter to Songwriters

For all the songwriters out there who follow Jesus, Brian McLaren posts an open letter.

Plus, a postscript.

Prayer Works

This week I prayed the prayer of faith, and God answered.

Since last October, I have been eagerly awaiting one critical piece of documentation to be sent from the government. This particular item would be my ticket to legally live and work in a certain other country, the same country in which my wife-to-be lives.

Today marks exactly one month before our wedding date. As you may guess, I have grown increasingly anxious about receiving the necessary document. (Those of you with experience in waiting on governmental processes will understand how frustratingly unpredictable this situation can be.)

Two days ago, I decided to try something. I decided to pray with faith—that is, the expectation of a tangible answer. So I prayed that morning for my letter to arrive on that same day from the government. I prayed and forced myself to assume it would actually arrive that day.

It did. Apparently, my prayer worked (or it was one hell of a coincidence).

This made me wonder just how many of my prior requests have gone unanswered merely because I did not ask and expect a direct answer. This seemingly small answer to prayer has convinced me to pray with increased faith and confidence from now on. I’ll let you know what happens.

(I also wonder if perhaps God had been planning that delivery for Tuesday all along, and if he had therefore prompted me to pray in order that the result would increase my faith. Or would the letter have never come if I hadn’t prayed? These are the theological issues which bog my noggin at times. For more nog-boggling, I recommend a semi-related article on Master Matt’s blog.)

The Results Are In

What’s my theological worldview? According to one online quiz:

Nice to know I’ve got a little fundy left in me.

Links: How To Build Community

How do you build community (i.e. love your neighbor)? Jordon Cooper has some ideas.

How do you build a global community (i.e. love the world)? See more ideas from Mr. Cooper.

How YOU Doin'?

“How are you?” “How you doin’?” “What’s happening?” “What’s up?” “What’s new?” “What’s goin’ on?”

Could there be any questions emptier of substance than these? Yet they are some of the standard informal greetings we give and receive every day. And to make matters worse, we even shorten such already-shallow greetings for no other apparent reason than to save our own breath: “Whaddup?”

Pause for a moment to reflect on the given questions. What do any of them truly mean? “How are you?” That’s a rather loaded question, isn’t it? How am I in what sense: physically? emotionally? financially? relationally? spiritually? all of the above? And do you really have the time for me to answer your query honestly and comprehensively, or are you just breaking the uncomfortable silence between us as we pass each other in the hall?

Or “What’s new?” Well, what’s new with what: world politics? the Canadian exchange rate? personal debt reduction? the tree-pollen count? my blood pressure? These are all things that in some way affect me; which would you like me to address? And before I address them, remind me when the last time was that we encountered each other so I can accurately report on the relevant events which have transpired in the meantime.

Are we beginning to see how ridiculous such questions are? I know a very select few people who actually wait to hear a significant reply whenever they ask a question like, “How are you?” Sadly, that is not the norm.

Let me be the first to confess. I include myself in the great majority of folks who commonly toss out such salutations with no interest in answers. Furthermore, if someone were to give a genuine response for a change, chances are I would regret having ever asked as this would be cutting into precious opportunity for me to get on with my life.

Henceforth, I propose a revolution in salutation. Let’s not ask one more of these kinds of questions unless (1) we have considered whether it is meaningful and appropriate, and (2) we desire and are prepared to listen to a real response. Be warned: attempting such efforts will undoubtedly force us to think and care—two things we don’t much like to do in society. In addition, we may startle people with our break from the usual routine. But this could all be for the best, no? (The answer is yes.)

One more thing. If someone asks the blanket question of how you are (or what’s up/new/happening, etc.), reply with the following: “In what sense?” If they ignore this, it means they had no intent of conversation in the first place. If they stop to think about it, marvelous! And if this angers them in any way, simply redirect their attention to this blog and I will happily bear the blame.

Vive la revolución!

Putting Others First

I had a simple yet profound realization this morning. It occurred to me that following Jesus can be boiled down to one basic concept: putting others first. If every aspect of my existence aligned with this concept, I could then truly consider myself a “good person”.

The problem is that, as a member of the human race, every fiber of my being struggles against doing this one basic thing. I want to live my way, do things for myself, and enrich my own life. Yet God demands otherwise.

There are two categories of others: God and everyone else. Loving these others means putting their needs and desires before my own, wanting the best for them at my own expense. This is what Jesus meant when he stated the two greatest rules of life in Matthew 22:37–40:

‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.

So if all the law and the prophets (i.e. all of Scripture) can be boiled down to these simple principles, why do we humans fail so miserably to please God? I am convinced it is because we ultimately choose to put ourselves before others.

We are a culture of self-seekers. We want things our way (cue Paul Anka and Burger King). We love the promise Jesus gave of abundant life in John 10:10, because we interpret that to mean we will get everything we want. However, we neglect what he also said in Matthew 10:39:

Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.

Losing my life, taking up my cross, laying my life down for a friend—these are all examples of love given in the New Testament. They are also examples of supreme service, or putting others first (even to the point of my own earthly death).

This flies in the face of my natural tendency to please myself. It is intensely counter-cultural, yet blatantly demanded by God. If I am to be a follower of Jesus, putting others first is something I must do at all times.

This may seem obvious; in a sense, it is. But the profundity strikes when I pause to reflect on just how much (or, more accurately, how little) I put others before myself. This reflection then leads to the Fear of the Lord, the knowledge that my life is nowhere near where it should be as a Christ-follower. And this in turn leads to a deep sorrow for the church in general, composed as it is largely of people living for themselves.

I will explore this topic much further in the days ahead.

Listen

My blogging buddies seem to enjoy this, so here’s my stab at it…

Currently listening to: Nothing. Isn’t silence wonderful?

Lost in the Crowd

What’s wrong with this picture: A megachurch of over 2,000 members holds their annual celebration event. One member, who has faithfully attended for years, comes to the event and is troubled to find he knows almost nobody. This supposed celebration of the church community therefore turns out to be quite the opposite for this fellow, as he feels lost in the crowd.

Who is to blame here? The individual, because he didn’t take the initiative to meet others? Other members, because they didn’t try to get to know him? Or could the fault perhaps lie in the very nature of a megachurch, in which people who should feel connected as a vital part of the “body of Christ” instead feel lost in the crowd?

The reason megachurches rely so heavily upon small/home/cell groups is that true community cannot be achieved in large settings. There is simply not enough time or space for that, as most megachurch leaders will concede.

Naturally, this leads me to ask: What is church, if not community? And if community is not possible within a certain program or context, why do we bother with that program or context? Sure, we can bring people in the doors; but then what? Does this even have anything to do with the Great Commission of Matthew 28:18–20, i.e. making disciples?

Just some things to consider. I welcome any response.

Subscription

You may have noticed that I added a subscription feature to this site. This is for the lazy ones among us who would like to be notified of new posts via e-mail (you know who you are). It should be spam-free. Thanks be to Bloglet.

Wilderness Running

When I go running, I have a couple of routes that I tend to stick with. They are familiar and allow me to easily judge my progress. But occasionally, like today, I will venture out of the norm for a little variety a la Robert Frost.

I decided to follow an unknown trail off my usual city streets and into some protected natural lands. This path led me past a large pond I never knew existed, a sleeping homeless man, a family of rabbits, and all assortment of wild growths. At one point my running became walking, as I used my arms for machetes to clear away the overgrowth blocking my path and tried not to slip or twist my ankle along the uneven ground.

This was quite different from my usual jaunt: more Outback Jack than Road Runner. It was a worthy adventure.

Eventually the path emptied back into civilization: a housing development that looked less than five years old. I went from the isolation of wilderness to being surrounded by Suburbia within seconds.

This neighborhood I came upon was oh-so-well groomed; not a single house had a lawn looking like it hadn’t been mowed just that week. The cars were all nice and shiny, the house sidings and paint-jobs pristine. This complex even had its own rock-face sign at the entrance, proudly declaring Somethingorother Estates (why does every place have to be a bloody “estate” these days?).

I promptly exited American Dreamland and found my way back home. As I was on the final stretch, a thought struck: that suburban complex felt surreal, particularly compared to the wilderness bordering it. Everything was so “perfect”—everybody had everything just the way it should be, at least according to some standards.

And it was all so much rubbish. Funny how I envied the sleeping homeless man then.

Exposure

Judging from my posts last night, I was in a rather foul mood. Sorry about the language if that offended you. The whole reason I started this blog was to lay my raw self on the table, “just as I am” at any given moment. Originally I was going to pour all these experiences into a closed, private journal; but there’s something cathartic about being completely exposed to the public.

Not that I’m about to take up flashing or anything. Rest easy on that.

I also don’t want to sanitize my words on these pages, so occasionally there will be some ugly stuff that surfaces, for better or worse. Consider yourself warned.

Lastly, I should add one theological clarification. Please don’t misinterpret my previous comments about scrubbing to mean I have a works-based faith in God. I realize that it is only by the grace of God that I do not drown in my own sin. I know the paradox of salvation, even though I don’t fully get it: that nothing I could ever do would make me clean or good enough for God, yet he loves me in spite of all that and offers a way to the Good Life through Jesus.

I love Jesus; I want to prove that to him by living the best I can. I just struggle—a lot—in doing that. So here’s my struggle, take it or leave it.

Faith and Scrubbing

I don’t know what to do with myself. I am getting married in less than two months, and I don’t know what will become of me. Am I scared? A little. Excited? More than anything. But I still don’t know what to expect. That’s probably a good thing.

I am learning to trust in God: one of the hardest lessons to learn. But I’m trying. I’m surprisingly not worried about what lies ahead; perhaps that’s because I will not be on my own come July 16, but I think it’s more than that. I think my faith is increasing—every day, a little bit. Not to say that I’m holy. Hell, no. Far from it. But faith-full: closer.

I know I’m not holy because of the shit that still sticks to me. No matter how hard I try to scrub it away, it still clings and stinks up my life. I guess that’s a large part of following after Christ: the constant scrubbing of one’s own shit in attempts to become a little cleaner, a little purer in body and spirit.

Well, I’ve got some pretty crusty shit that I’ve been working on for some time now, and it’s a bugger to get off. My lust is one of the biggest clumps: the “lust of the flesh and the eyes”, which I understand is something that most men deal with secretly (or not, depending on your level of perversion or courage).

So I scrub. And I scrub. And I scrub. And it clings mightily.

That, along with searching for a new job in a new country with a new bride. Like I said: I don’t know what to do with myself. This is where faith takes over.

As Anne Lamott likes to pray, “Help me, help me, help me.”

One Fool Among Many

Everyone in the world is fucked up.

We are all, in some way, messed up. Everybody has at least one thing in their past or present that haunts them—some more than others, but everybody’s got something. Even the apostle Paul had something, so don’t try to tell me you don’t.

I am one of many. This is my story, these are my thoughts.