I haven’t talked about it much (on this blog or to many people), but for the past 6 or 7 months I’ve been in professional counseling, primarily for anxiety (and it’s various outward expressions). There is a constant tension and busyness inside me that keeps me from living so many aspects of life. The counseling has been challenging, amazing, and painfully slow in the growth it has been producing in me.
But growth it has produced.
A couple of weeks ago, I decided to take a week off from the blog, somewhat as an experiment. That week, I experienced more freedom from the various expressions of anxiety in my life than I had for years. I began to experience once again that communion with Christ I’ve written about wanting before. I was reading his Word, praying, and serving those around me with such calm and freedom.
I then thought to myself, “Wow. That was amazing! Now, I can go back to blogging.” I came back to the blog all last week, and all the anxiety came rushing back with it.
If American nationalism appeals to Christians because of the resemblance between the idea of America and the idea of the universal Church, then it stands to reason that the weakening of the major Christian churches, Catholic and Protestant alike, would make the Church of America (in both its progressive and conservative forms) more appealing than ever before. Almost every major Christian body has less moral authority today than it did a few generations ago, and while the idea of America has been battered over this period as well, patriotism in its various forms burns far brighter than most religious Americans’ affections for their particular churches and denominations. “God and country” has a stronger pull than “God and the Catholic bishops” or “God and the United Methodist Church,” and the partisan mind-set increasingly provides a greater sense of solidarity, shared purpose, and even eschatological fervor than the weakened confessions of Protestantism or the faded grandeur of Rome.
Update: Shortly after writing this, I ran across this amazing quote in Ross Douthat’s Bad Religion and posted it on the blog.
In America, today is Memorial Day. This is the day Americans pay tribute to the soldiers that have served in our nation’s military and in our various wars. I grew up in Dallas, Texas, ostensibly (as you can see to the right) the most Patriotic state in the Union (Hmm… I can hear cries of “damn right!” ringing through the air from the South….). Of the Unquestionable Cultural Orthodoxy I was raised with, the glorification of the military sat right there next to Jesus, George W. Bush, and any anti-abortion and anti-evolution efforts there may have been.
And indeed this was the pattern I observed in this nation in this past one score and one year I have been around. No matter how anti-war some “crazy wack-job” liberal was (because who could possibly be against any war we–The Great Good–were fighting), they were quick to say “but I support the troops!”
Reading the various blogs and articles throughout the interwebs, though, it seems the past year has seen a shift. As our disenchantment with every other American institution has grown, the military does not look to be exempt from this. Continue reading →
Believe it or not, there was a time that I did not have sweet dance moves like this and this.
This is the story about my first slow-dance.
Anyone that grew up in a middle-school setting where the seasons and holidays were marked by school dances knows that to “slow dance” was a rite-of-passage experienced by a precious few. Primarily reserved for nerdy kids that “dated” each other and the “cool kids” that hooked up and “dated” each other, the “slow dance” was a beast that eluded me for most all of my middle school career.
I had spent 6th- and 7th-grades going to most of the dances, but not actually dancing. While reveling in the glory of Third Eye Blind, NSync, Creed, Jewel, Boys II Men and Savage Garden, I’d hang out with my friends, “make fun of” (read: jealously wish I was part of) those that had someone to slow dance with, and join in the chorus of yelling middle-schoolers that would enthusiastically supply the edited-out curse word in “Pretty Fly for a White Guy“.
I was the quintessential “that guy” in those situations: an awkward wallflower, terrified of girls and wearing bad Christian t-shirts, who would (no joke) stand next to and carry on conversations with my slow-dancing friends–while they were slow dancing (once, a teacher had to tell me to give the dancing couple some space).
My good (online) friend Lore Ferguson (for whose site I recentlyguest-posted) just had an old post of her’s published on the site The High Calling. It’s called “Sleeping Alone” and it’s some of her meditations on the sustaining life of God in her singleness.
And wow, is it amazing. It’s raw, honest, unflinching, and gracious. Read it right now and then come back here. Here’s an excerpt:
Singleness is a beautiful thing and when I take account of the past decade I see a faithfulness to its beauty in my life in a way that only comes from grace, but I also see a succession of tiny funerals every step of the way. A cemetery full of them. Adventures I have had alone. Mornings I have woken alone. Moments I have reveled in alone. Each one bringing joy in its experience and mourning in its completion.
Life is meant to be shared and marriage is not the only way to share life, I know this, but the mystery of two flesh becoming one is a mingling that cannot be known by me, with my bed all to myself, 400 thread count sheets, open window, and quiet morning. And I mourn this.
Now, this whole local, organic thing is a pretty big fad right now (and I’m as guilty as any for being an evangelist for it–even though I’m also a weak practitioner), but O’Brien’s perspective is different. She is a former Wall Street analyst, and so she spends her time not trying to belittle or demonize businesses who have a legal responsibility to maximize profits for their shareholders. Nor does she try and show how this perspective on food is inherently “better” or more “ethical” or “moral” (even though I might think so).
Instead, she shows how our current food system is–literally–killing us. There’s no sensationalism. No partisan backhands. No sarcasm. No exaggeration or twisting of facts; just a simple telling of her story of transition from a “normal” mom to her views today.
Ultimately, she shows how changing our food system could actually be best for our nation, both economically and politically.
On a personal note: I applaud this video, and yet I still find myself not following its suggestions (even as I’ve watched and read similarly-minded “exposes“, books, and documentaries). Nothing has been enough yet to actually change my habits. My main concern isn’t necessarily money or sourcing. Rather, it’s time. It takes time to plan, shop, and cook with intentionality and thought (or so I think).
I’m sure many of the readers of this blog will agree with the principles laid out in this video. If so, I want to hear from you. No. Actually, I need to hear from you. I need help in this. What’s your story? Do you follow these principles, even a little bit? What has worked? What hasn’t? Any tips for a time-bound (and probbably, more realistically, just lazy) twenty-something looking to reform his eating habits? Sound off below.
What influence, in fact, have ecclesiastical establishments had on society? In some instances they have been seen to erect a spiritual tyranny on the ruins of the civil authority; in many instances they have been seen upholding the thrones of political tyranny; in no instance have they been the guardians of the liberties of the people. Rulers who wish to subvert the public liberty may have found an established clergy convenient allies.
— James Madison, Memorial And Remonstrance Against Religious Assessments, June 20, 1785.
My fellow former-Westminsterian (and co-author of a book I plugged a few weeks ago), Jared Byas, just posted an incredible blog post on his blog, Seeking the Good & Claiming it for the Kingdom. The post is called “Why I Will Not Divorce the Bible” and he articulates in such clear prose and winsome graciousness many of the thoughts and perspectives I have when engaging the Bible and then turning to engage the world around me.
Byas writes about how Evangelicals and theological “progressives” both end up devaluing the Bible and not truly respecting it or being “married” to it. He does a great job of exposing the reductionism of both sides as they use various techniques to keep the Bible at arm’s length so they don’t really have to deal with it as it is. (I’ve written similarly before.) Continue reading →
On the night of Passover, a lamb was killed so that God’s people would live. Fifty days later, God offered his law to his people–a picture of who he was, a mark of who his people would be, and the equipping of his people for the purposes God had for them.
And that’s the New Testament version.
Easter officially comes to an end this Sunday. Then comes Pentecost, the season in which we celebrate the Holy Spirit falling on the apostles, fifty days after Jesus’ death (hence the name Penta-cost). This day is celebrated as the “birthday” of the Church. Jesus had told the disciples to go out into the world ministering this Gospel to the world, but first, to wait. What would be so important as to put the brakes on the mission of God in the world?
I’ve taken to doing Compline devotions before I go to sleep. In the Church tradition of praying the hours of the day, “Compline” is the word used to describe that twilight space at the completion of the day, between evening and morning. Prayers and devotions for Compline are usually meant to be done right before a person (or couple) goes to sleep (perhaps even done in bed–that’s where I do them).
These devotions have helped mitigate that tendency in myself (which I’ve written about before) to try and ignore the voices of both God and contemplation within my heart as I end my day. These beautiful prayers give me a space that forced me speak to and with God and cry for mercy. Continue reading →
As of this moment, I’m heading with the lady and some of her friends to the Poconos, which, contrary to what I believed prior to two days ago, are in fact mountains in Pennsylvania, and not beach-laden islands off the coast of Jersey.
I’ve decided to take a few “blog vacation days” to slow down life a little. So, for the rest of this week, I won’t be posting anything. In the meantime–especially for all you newer readers out there–here is a list (from “the Site” page above) of some favorite posts of mine (and others) that I’ve posted here over the years. Enjoy, and may they serve you well. See you on Monday.
p.s. Is that photo above a little over-the-top or dramatic (full size here)? At the time, I wasn’t aware it was being taken, but now that it has been, is it fair game? Sound off in the comments below.
This past weekend, I had the honor of being at Duke Divinity’s baccalaureate for their graduating divinity students. It was a full-scale service (minus communion, and plus the hood ceremony for the graduates), complete with songs, prayers, and a homily.
And oh what a homily it was.
That night, Sam Wells, the (now former) dean of Duke Chapel, delivered his last ever message as dean. Late last year, he accepted the call to vicar of St. Martin-in-the-Fields in London, and this was the last homily he was to offer to these students he obviously loved so much. These final words to them were purposeful and intense, offering a handhold for each one of us in the muddy waters of life and vocation.
I pray these words impact you as they did me, and that you return to them often. You can view the message below, or check out Duke Chapel’s myriad of other ways to find and keep up with their messages. The message starts at 57:40 (the embedded video won’t jump to that time-mark automatically, but this link will take you right there if you don’t want to click around below).
the long way home 