New idea for a ministry to reach young adults: meet at a bar and focus on scriptures that challenge your faith, rather than just the ones that affirm it. Discuss how God told the Israelites to commit genocide with the command to kill all the Canaanites and not intermarry. Or mention that the very specific specifications for the temple somehow very much resembled that of polytheistic places of worship in the region, and bring up the idea that maybe Moses took a hint from his surroundings when he was divinely inspired to write about it. Or maybe an answer that we are less comfortable with. On that note, bring up how science and archaeology do not always back up what we read in Scripture, at least on the surface level. A city the size of Jericho did not exist, so how do we interpret that?
In the banter, compare our knowledge of the Jewish and Muslim faiths to our knowledge of our own. Though many of us have had personal experiences that reinforced our previous beliefs, it would be unwise to avoid recognizing that the aspects of other faiths which we are so quick to criticize actually share many similarities with our own. Struggling with that can bring about an intellectual maturity to replace the status quo of fairly blind faith, which by all accounts seems based more in the fear of our worldview being wrong than in a search for truth.
The thing is, if we want to reach the lost in this increasingly educated world, we need to challenge ourselves. When we share our faith with someone of intelligence who has researched enough to know the flaws in the Christian faith, we should at least be at a point where we too have recognized these discrepancies, and, at the least, have attempted to reconcile them.
Thursday, November 2, 2017
Wednesday, November 1, 2017
Time To Return
I'm 27. My personality is starting to solidify. I had rules and boundaries for myself that I have pushed more than I would care to admit, particularly over the last few years while I have been outside of a Christian environment. Church was not a practical thing to keep up with while on the island, and I felt the Spirit telling me not to attend when I got back (this occurred after trying a visit my old church in an effort to reconnect), and I continued with that perspective afterwards. But the election time passed, Russian propaganda had fooled countless Christians into taking the side of the racist sexual assaulting bigot, and our witness as a community of believers was largely discredited. And few leaders seem to have grown a backbone to speak up against it since then either.
But now I think it is time to return. I pushed my own boundaries in order to understand and pursue what the Apostle Paul meant in 1 Corinthians 9:19-23.
See, my time in the secular (or just "not explicitly Christian") world taught me some important lessons. For one thing, we tend to view Christian culture as a well-known faith, the basic knowledge of which is ubiquitous within all groups. This is not the case any more than the idea that every Christian has an appreciation of Muslim or Buddhist culture. My roommate in med school knew nothing about Christianity. He asked basic questions like why we have church on Sunday, and I had thought of such insignificant things so little that I could not even remember when he first asked. Given the bigoted rhetoric strongly projected by Christians against Muslims from many Christian leaders and friends, I spent much of my time simply correcting that false interpretation rather than actually sharing my faith. Jesus taught us to live everyone, even those whose beliefs differ from our own. Jesus was also against racism, as displayed in His interactions with Samaritans. For these reasons, I have felt the need to advocate for the rights of other peoples and faiths, as a demonstration of the love that Christ truly does have for everyone (even if they do not believe in Him).
Here is another observation. At the end of my three months of journeying through Europe, I was in Ireland. I made friends with a German guy and we went drinking first in Cork (southern), then met up again in Galway (west). He showed me the bar with the cheapest beer, and after attempting to understand the thick accent of the Irishman next to us, we cut our losses there and spoke to one another. It came up in conversation that I am a Christian, and he said "I don't like Christians". I asked him to tell me why, and maybe I could clarify whatever he did not like. Then he asked something so simple that I had no quick answer even though it was debated for centuries by church leaders. "How can God be three people and one person? That doesn't make sense." I gave some dumb answer, but it taught me that even with things that I readily accept about the Christian faith without thinking, sometimes the thinking is not for our sake; it is for the sake of those with whom we are sharing our faith.
Perhaps the greatest takeaway from that conversation, and from many more to follow, was not how to prepare to share the gospel, but rather the setting in which to share it. Bars are magical places. Whether you meet someone for a drink or go alone, you are likely to have conversations with someone you have not met. I have tried to put coffee shops in a similar category, but that is comparing apples to oranges, caffeine to alcohol, a stimulant to a depressant. And it is far less common to start conversations with a stranger in a coffee shop than in a bar. Why did that buddy of mine tell me, after days of knowing me, that he did not like my kind? Because the initial reservations that we all share, that keep us polite and proper enough to hold back, those begin to crumble in the first wave of the effects of alcohol. As a depressant, it inhibits those inhibitors, those things that keep us from being as expressive as we might. Another important aspect is the knowledge that everyone there is under those effects. I do not expect everyone in a bar to be drunk (I myself have rarely been publicly intoxicated), but once a drink is in your hand, you and the other patrons find yourselves on common ground.
As the Christian faith seems to be on its decline among my generation in the States (statistically), I think that it is time to recognize both flaws and opportunities. I have many more examples of sharing my faith over a drink and a joke, but few instances in sober contexts outside of the mission field. In my view, God gave me standards and convictions, but I have no right to place those on others; that is the job of the Holy Spirit. Christians need some better PR work, and maybe I can drudge up enough lessons learned to actually let some community leaders know of a better approach.
But now I think it is time to return. I pushed my own boundaries in order to understand and pursue what the Apostle Paul meant in 1 Corinthians 9:19-23.
"Though I am free and belong to no one, I have made myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible. To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews. To those under the law I became like one under the law (though I myself am not under the law), so as to win those under the law. To those not having the law I became like one not having the law (though I am not free from God's law but am under Christ's law), so as to win those not having the law. To the weak I became weak, to win the weak. I have become all things to all people so that by all means I might save some. I do this all for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings."To my queer friends, I became white cis straight and tried to address others by their preferred pronouns; I tried being accepting, even arguing in favor of their lifestyle choices within Biblical contexts, because I would rather a gay friend who is going to heaven than one who is going to hell. And before that upsets anyone, it is also because my easy interpretation of those Biblical passages could be wrong, so I will assume so if it will bring someone closer to Christ. To Muslim friends, I tried to find common ground within our holy texts (and even purchased a Quran to read, though studying has made it hard to find the time). To atheist friends, and all friends really, I tried to be a good accepting person with a fun and self-depreciating sense of humor, always willing to criticize my faith (and race) as readily as anyone else's. I say this as if I have really accomplished much. Aside from friends suddenly wanting prayer before a major exam, I was doing far more in the way of making friends than I was sharing my faith. And given that I am still learning my faith and tend to assume that my previous understanding could very well be incorrect, I often played devil's advocate against my own assumptions. In any case, this has been training.
See, my time in the secular (or just "not explicitly Christian") world taught me some important lessons. For one thing, we tend to view Christian culture as a well-known faith, the basic knowledge of which is ubiquitous within all groups. This is not the case any more than the idea that every Christian has an appreciation of Muslim or Buddhist culture. My roommate in med school knew nothing about Christianity. He asked basic questions like why we have church on Sunday, and I had thought of such insignificant things so little that I could not even remember when he first asked. Given the bigoted rhetoric strongly projected by Christians against Muslims from many Christian leaders and friends, I spent much of my time simply correcting that false interpretation rather than actually sharing my faith. Jesus taught us to live everyone, even those whose beliefs differ from our own. Jesus was also against racism, as displayed in His interactions with Samaritans. For these reasons, I have felt the need to advocate for the rights of other peoples and faiths, as a demonstration of the love that Christ truly does have for everyone (even if they do not believe in Him).
Here is another observation. At the end of my three months of journeying through Europe, I was in Ireland. I made friends with a German guy and we went drinking first in Cork (southern), then met up again in Galway (west). He showed me the bar with the cheapest beer, and after attempting to understand the thick accent of the Irishman next to us, we cut our losses there and spoke to one another. It came up in conversation that I am a Christian, and he said "I don't like Christians". I asked him to tell me why, and maybe I could clarify whatever he did not like. Then he asked something so simple that I had no quick answer even though it was debated for centuries by church leaders. "How can God be three people and one person? That doesn't make sense." I gave some dumb answer, but it taught me that even with things that I readily accept about the Christian faith without thinking, sometimes the thinking is not for our sake; it is for the sake of those with whom we are sharing our faith.
Perhaps the greatest takeaway from that conversation, and from many more to follow, was not how to prepare to share the gospel, but rather the setting in which to share it. Bars are magical places. Whether you meet someone for a drink or go alone, you are likely to have conversations with someone you have not met. I have tried to put coffee shops in a similar category, but that is comparing apples to oranges, caffeine to alcohol, a stimulant to a depressant. And it is far less common to start conversations with a stranger in a coffee shop than in a bar. Why did that buddy of mine tell me, after days of knowing me, that he did not like my kind? Because the initial reservations that we all share, that keep us polite and proper enough to hold back, those begin to crumble in the first wave of the effects of alcohol. As a depressant, it inhibits those inhibitors, those things that keep us from being as expressive as we might. Another important aspect is the knowledge that everyone there is under those effects. I do not expect everyone in a bar to be drunk (I myself have rarely been publicly intoxicated), but once a drink is in your hand, you and the other patrons find yourselves on common ground.
As the Christian faith seems to be on its decline among my generation in the States (statistically), I think that it is time to recognize both flaws and opportunities. I have many more examples of sharing my faith over a drink and a joke, but few instances in sober contexts outside of the mission field. In my view, God gave me standards and convictions, but I have no right to place those on others; that is the job of the Holy Spirit. Christians need some better PR work, and maybe I can drudge up enough lessons learned to actually let some community leaders know of a better approach.
Sunday, October 29, 2017
Still Some Left
I went to that party filled with humans from homeschool past. Having been so inundated in the past years with social gatherings that always have a focus on alcohol, it is odd to interact with people whose most notable drug effect is likely to be the caffeine from soda. I spent a portion of my time there talking to my crush, but for the most part, I was meeting new people. And I must admit that, like many medical friends of mine, much of me dislikes doing that these days. But I also know that it is good for me, and crush was there, so that was the way of it.
One of the things I most appreciate about an alcohol-infused setting is that other people lose a layer of inhibition of which I tend to remain bereft. So without alcohol, I feel compelled to acquire that missing inhibition. Fortunately, the evening wore on and I defaulted to my usual habits of slurring my speech and walking oddly.
Regarding her, she seemed great. Dancing the whole time, as I once did. It was not maturity that shut me up in the dancing realm; instead, it was my time in medical school. I warned everyone that I would be a different person afterward, and I was right. I think I may be worse, though part of that is simply due to how much I know. In any case, she seems like me except without becoming corrupted.
I talked to God about it last night. I told Him (because I have not been a great listener for a long while) that even if she is just being nice and is not romantically interested, I understand that I need not lower my standards or feel helpless in the search for another. There are still some left out there.
Anyway, my relational maturity level has probably not progressed since I was twelve, so I am still following his lead on this.
One of the things I most appreciate about an alcohol-infused setting is that other people lose a layer of inhibition of which I tend to remain bereft. So without alcohol, I feel compelled to acquire that missing inhibition. Fortunately, the evening wore on and I defaulted to my usual habits of slurring my speech and walking oddly.
Regarding her, she seemed great. Dancing the whole time, as I once did. It was not maturity that shut me up in the dancing realm; instead, it was my time in medical school. I warned everyone that I would be a different person afterward, and I was right. I think I may be worse, though part of that is simply due to how much I know. In any case, she seems like me except without becoming corrupted.
I talked to God about it last night. I told Him (because I have not been a great listener for a long while) that even if she is just being nice and is not romantically interested, I understand that I need not lower my standards or feel helpless in the search for another. There are still some left out there.
Anyway, my relational maturity level has probably not progressed since I was twelve, so I am still following his lead on this.
Friday, October 27, 2017
One Seeking A Particular One (poem)
The society that I knew had
Without necessarily uttering the words
Convinced me
That for every one
There is another
For whom that one
Is intended.
There is another
For whom that one
Is intended.
Higher learning questioned this
And many other thoughts besides.
After all, Holy texts do not describe
One seeking a particular one
Apart from each of mankind to God.
One seeking a particular one
Apart from each of mankind to God.
So I instead became convinced
Of the opposite.
I am so particular as a person
With life as much a myriad
Of diverse interactions
And experiences
As an academic life would allow
That to imagine anyone
Fitting my odd corners
And squiggly puzzle shape
No longer makes sense.
Fitting my odd corners
And squiggly puzzle shape
No longer makes sense.
Until recently,
When I became aware
Of beauty untethered
By relationship.
When I became aware
Of beauty untethered
By relationship.
And then another.
I am dumbfounded
And bewildered
As the beams that frame my knowledge
Of social norms and romance
May potentially be
Bent,
Groaning asunder
In this glimmer
Of cautious hope.
Of social norms and romance
May potentially be
Bent,
Groaning asunder
In this glimmer
Of cautious hope.
Caution is still
Heavily advised.
Heavily advised.
Because there is only
One Hope
Sealed with a promise
One Hope
Sealed with a promise
Not to disappoint.
Hope Of A Misrepresentation of Reality
In an age when I increasingly feel alone with my learning and beliefs within my chosen field of study, it shocks me when I find anyone who is physically attractive and possesses similar characteristics. It feels like being the last of my race, a fairly open-minded Christian who also believes in science and has a strong desire to do missionary work. Those qualities do not appear often, and they honestly do not sit well together within me. So as the Trump era wipes out most of what remained of my kind, I am nervously fearful when I think that I have found anyone who even remotely seems to match me in many of these regards. Does she like me? Do I like her? How many of our beliefs have to line up for this to work? My parents are divorced and because I do not, in truth, recognize such a thing as preferred under any circumstance, I am even more hesitant with regard to romance than I was before it all began. Bear in mind that I did not date even before their divorce.
So the present fear today that inspires this post? The thought that the female human I like may already have a boyfriend, thus restoring the framework in my mind that all the good ones are already taken or are uninterested. Judging by the frequency of communication and social invitations, I assume interest. So that leaves the likelihood of her being taken. And given that I am somewhat emotionally vulnerable due to the recent failure of a major exam, the glimmer of hope that my aforementioned mental framework regarding romance in my world may be a misrepresentation of reality leads me to be on edge when I think of this interest as simply being friendly rather than flirty.
And yes, I know that I am using the immature defense mechanism of intellectualization in my analysis of my own self.
I miss writing. After this test, maybe I can do what I promised myself I would do after college (but never really did): go to a coffee shop and write poetry. Screw it, maybe I'll write poetry now. That would be a much more mature defense mechanism. Maybe like a form of sublimation?
So the present fear today that inspires this post? The thought that the female human I like may already have a boyfriend, thus restoring the framework in my mind that all the good ones are already taken or are uninterested. Judging by the frequency of communication and social invitations, I assume interest. So that leaves the likelihood of her being taken. And given that I am somewhat emotionally vulnerable due to the recent failure of a major exam, the glimmer of hope that my aforementioned mental framework regarding romance in my world may be a misrepresentation of reality leads me to be on edge when I think of this interest as simply being friendly rather than flirty.
And yes, I know that I am using the immature defense mechanism of intellectualization in my analysis of my own self.
I miss writing. After this test, maybe I can do what I promised myself I would do after college (but never really did): go to a coffee shop and write poetry. Screw it, maybe I'll write poetry now. That would be a much more mature defense mechanism. Maybe like a form of sublimation?
Sunday, October 22, 2017
Did Not Find My Stride
I failed by a single point. My hands were wild and tremulous as I entered my information to log in and discover my grade. In my mind, I had fixed the grade of 175. Even at my worst, I was better than that, so I held onto that so I would feel better regardless of the grade. And it helped. I was staying with my cousin in Chicago, and all of my plans to make additional stops on the way home suddenly seemed like a waste of time. After all, a victory lap after failure does not really make sense.
So that Wednesday, I drove the 13 hours home, slapped a smile on my face, and continued on. My ideas of finally living life again became foolish pursuits of a dream world, and now I once again struggle with making myself study as hard as I should. But I guess that this is my life now. Endless cycles of study and failure until God changes His mind and realizes that I truly was not meant for this particular calling. I have everything necessary to excel except for the academic prowess, which happens to be a critical requirement. I do not truly believe everything that I am writing, but a big part of me consists of those doubts, and the only thing holding me to this track is God. Though, if I am being frank, I have no idea what else I would do...
I met up with a crush of mine at a church event on Friday. Given that she started nursing school this semester, she and I had plenty to talk about via text over the previous month or two. She is very much into swing dancing and that evening confirmed my strong suspicions that I do not remember how to swing dance well. I had the same fear about all styles of dancing after my prolonged stay on the island, but my freestyle game appears to hold strong. We also hung out with a good friend of mine, but since he and I are both attention-grabbing funny people, we more or less dominated the conversation.
Anyway, today is Sunday and I spent half an hour debating whether to go to church. The last time I remember deciding to go last year, I felt the odd sensation of the Holy Spirit telling me that something was off. I am sure that it had something to do with the political undertones of the sermon. So a year later, after the politics have died down slightly, I still feel uncomfortable with church, due to the knowledge that a great many prominent members of its congregation support people whose actions and ideas are remarkably contrary to the teachings of Scripture. In a post-evangelical world, this is unsatisfactory to me as a believer, and I am unsure of how to deal with it.
So that Wednesday, I drove the 13 hours home, slapped a smile on my face, and continued on. My ideas of finally living life again became foolish pursuits of a dream world, and now I once again struggle with making myself study as hard as I should. But I guess that this is my life now. Endless cycles of study and failure until God changes His mind and realizes that I truly was not meant for this particular calling. I have everything necessary to excel except for the academic prowess, which happens to be a critical requirement. I do not truly believe everything that I am writing, but a big part of me consists of those doubts, and the only thing holding me to this track is God. Though, if I am being frank, I have no idea what else I would do...
I met up with a crush of mine at a church event on Friday. Given that she started nursing school this semester, she and I had plenty to talk about via text over the previous month or two. She is very much into swing dancing and that evening confirmed my strong suspicions that I do not remember how to swing dance well. I had the same fear about all styles of dancing after my prolonged stay on the island, but my freestyle game appears to hold strong. We also hung out with a good friend of mine, but since he and I are both attention-grabbing funny people, we more or less dominated the conversation.
Anyway, today is Sunday and I spent half an hour debating whether to go to church. The last time I remember deciding to go last year, I felt the odd sensation of the Holy Spirit telling me that something was off. I am sure that it had something to do with the political undertones of the sermon. So a year later, after the politics have died down slightly, I still feel uncomfortable with church, due to the knowledge that a great many prominent members of its congregation support people whose actions and ideas are remarkably contrary to the teachings of Scripture. In a post-evangelical world, this is unsatisfactory to me as a believer, and I am unsure of how to deal with it.
Sunday, October 15, 2017
It's Close
I'm a few days from finding out my scores. To distract myself, I visited a friend I met through Facebook (also named London Smith), then found another old friend in D.C., hopped by Baltimore, took some time to explore NYC, met up with my Polish Canadian friend in Toronto, and then met up with an old friend and a new one in Milwaukee. Tomorrow, I'll meet my nephews in Chicago (I've apparently been an uncle for awhile now), and then leave in a couple of days to go back to Arkansas, Oklahoma, and then finally to Texas. But my scores are supposed to be released on the day that I leave Chicago, so that means 10+ hours in the car with the knowledge of whether I passed or failed that exam.
Though this trip is meant to distract, I really have let myself think of it lately, mostly because the day is fast approaching. I had a stress dream last night. I was enrolled in a medical class (which I specifically remember simply being named "Washington"), the lectures and classwork for which I had not attended or possibly even been aware. Such was the intensity of this overbearing knowledge of the class that I woke up and only realized that it was just a dream because I realized how stupid that name was (for a medical class). In addition, I was also trying to leave the island upon which my medical education took place thus far. It really was a nightmare to navigate in reality, so I suppose that it is not so crazy to experience it again in a stress dream.
The waiting for the scores is the worst part. Well, so were the last couple weeks before the exam. I guess that every part is awful. Fortunately, I think that I did the very best that I could with the time before me (with regard to the time spent after the test).
It's so close. So scary. If I failed, there goes the holiday season. I'll just be studying again.
Though this trip is meant to distract, I really have let myself think of it lately, mostly because the day is fast approaching. I had a stress dream last night. I was enrolled in a medical class (which I specifically remember simply being named "Washington"), the lectures and classwork for which I had not attended or possibly even been aware. Such was the intensity of this overbearing knowledge of the class that I woke up and only realized that it was just a dream because I realized how stupid that name was (for a medical class). In addition, I was also trying to leave the island upon which my medical education took place thus far. It really was a nightmare to navigate in reality, so I suppose that it is not so crazy to experience it again in a stress dream.
The waiting for the scores is the worst part. Well, so were the last couple weeks before the exam. I guess that every part is awful. Fortunately, I think that I did the very best that I could with the time before me (with regard to the time spent after the test).
It's so close. So scary. If I failed, there goes the holiday season. I'll just be studying again.
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