process
I wrote this one in like 2008....
A couple weeks ago I listened to a talk given by Floyd McClung Jr. The overall topic was being a good and loving neighbor. He's passionate about loving others though service and making yourself available for the Holy Spirit to work through you. In the middle of the talk, he reflected on his experience at Bible College:
"For four or five years people were storming through school to learn something and became very calloused and cynical in the process. I don’t know of a greater hot bed of cynicism in the United States than Christian Colleges because you can see it all and get all the theory and practice very little of it because you don’t have time. That’s a dangerous state to be in. If you have to take ten or twelve credit hours and take 6 years to get through but you become what you’re learning, you’ll be a far wiser person. Don’t hear it and not practice it. The biblical words for knowledge never separate the cognitive processes from the application to the character of the person who is learning. And if you ever get to the place where you’re fascinated with theory and it’s not touching your hands and your heart, you’re in a dangerous state....let it touch your heart, let it be a part of your character, how you live your life out."
I spent the day at the pool with Brittni yesterday and we discussed our experience at Lee (I'm still there...working on year number 6...) and how confronting life, theology, and our faith has changed us and the people we know and love. There have been some incredibly difficult issues of the mind and heart. It's hard for people who grow up in church that isn't raw, transparent, realistic, and outward-focused. It's difficult because life doesn't turn out to be as easy and delightful as Christianity can make it seem. Or as black and white. We're young, passionate, and full of life but all of us have had some kind of painful experience or process of the mind that causes us to question the existence/goodness of God...and everything else.
"Is he real? Or has this all just been in my head? Am I allowed to have fun as a Christian? Is it all about following all these rules? If I am supposed to trust God, why didn't he heal my family? Why did Dad/Mom leave us? If God is love, why did my boyfriend/girlfriend break up with me? Why is my heart and mind torn in a million pieces? If you are so good, why did that bus full of innocent people have to die? And they believed in you?! God is our heavenly father...if he is anything like my father then I don't want anything to do with him. I feel abandoned, alone, afraid. Pissed off. What the hell God? My professors are asking these questions, showing me this research and philosophy that goes against what I thought was reality. The Jesus Seminar, The God Who Wasn't There, Evolution, Historical Criticism, The Existence of Hell. I was told growing up that you were here. Well I don't feel you. I don't know you. All I know is my empty, dry, parched soul. Insecurities. Fears. Doubts. Worries. Apathy. Cyncism. Anger. Deep, seething, puss-filled wounds. Wounds from shitty, greedy, fat, ego-centric, pharisee-filled Christianity. Unending questions. "
I have experienced most of these things, as have a lot of my friends. Studying the Bible and Theology in a college community is beautiful and incredibly difficult at the same time. It's beautiful in that it effects everything that you are, every aspect of your thinking, living, and being. It's difficult in that it effects everything that you are, every aspect of your thinking, living, and being. And everyone is going through it together. Which builds community, but it sucks because we're all the same. There's very few available around who have been through what we have and can offer a hand and wisdom to help us out on this difficult but necessary journey.
My heart yearns for people in this school to experience all of these things with the knowledge and comfort that someone else has been there. That it isn't going to last forever. I don't say this in a accusatory way, but I think that Christian Colleges (or at least Lee University) have done a huge disservice to their students if they offer theory but not practical, hands-on ministry experience (that goes beyond singing, dramas, or preaching)(thank God for PFC and organizations like it). I think that what has helped me through this time has been the opportunity to live out my faith while I am asking all of these questions. If I hadn't been able work with the homeless and see the look on someone's face when I give them a warm meal on a cold day when they had no idea where their next meal was coming from, I wouldn't know what the goodness if God is all about. What's killer is when they say "God bless you..." or talk about how good God has been to them. I spoke with this guy last summer in New Orleans named Coolio who lived on the street and taught me how to play dry-wall buckets like drums. We just started talking and he went on and on about how good God was. He called himself a prophet, like John the Baptist, and said he talked to God all the time. He went on and on and on about how he was never hungry, that God always provided for him. He just loved the Lord. It was that simple. And refreshing. It gave me a little perspective.
There's just something about God, something about Jesus and living in the faith that requires action, movement, a behavioral response. It's vital to seek knowledge, to wrestle with faith, to develop the mind and your theological paradigm. But the Bible is a powerful book, and when the living water gets in you, it has to flow out of you or it just sits inside and become stagnant. So while we wrestle with theology, it is vital to get outside of our minds and focus on other people just for a little while. So we don't go insane, or miss out on following the example of Christ through the joy of serving others. I think that it is possible to have an actual encounter with Christ while reaching out to the needy. "Whatever you have done to the least of these you have done to me..."
What's really cool about serving other people, whether it be homeless, elderly, children, adults, or fellow college students, is that sometimes, if you're really lucky, you get to hear a bit of their story. The story of their life. Of their disappointments, shattered dreams, their wounds, their pain. But also their joy and comfort, their openness and vulnerability to allow God to heal their wounds and restore their hearts and minds. It's just good to hear the story of God. To see that he is and has done great things. That we may not understand why life is the way it is, but that Christ has suffered a hundred thousand times more than we ever will and knows what we are going through in our pain.
And serving is just one practical aspect. God has used me to pray specific things for people who I didn't know...but it was exactly what they needed at that time. I know people who have seen actual physical healing and miracles. I have heard countless stories and have experienced God providing money, food, and clothes for people who needed it. When we make ourselves available, he uses us and it just adds another paragraph to the story of God. It makes faith real, practical, and tangible.
I've been going to the Vineyard the past few weeks, and I am excited about what God is doing through them. Jeff and the pastoral staff believe in reaching out to this generation. They want to be mentors, mothers, and fathers. And I think that it's a really good thing. I hope that people in this community will see the need for people to not necessarily tell them all the right answers, but to be there to listen and offer wisdom when it is appropriate. To lead them in serving other people and getting outside of themselves for a little while. To tell them their stories of their wounds, their questions, their frustration with the Church, and how God reveals his goodness when we are vulnerable with him and community.
As I mentioned earlier, I am about to enter my sixth year of college. And for a long time I have felt this sense of shame/guilt/frustration because school has taken me longer than the normal 4 years. But now I am glad that I have chosen the path I have. As I have learned about God, I have been able to apply what I learn to my life and gain practical experience that I wouldn't trade for anything. I've learned how to be vulnerable with God and with others. I have learned to ask him my questions, expose my wounds, my weaknesses, my frustrations, my hopeless feelings. And what I have gained may not be all of the answers or a clear-cut theological paradigm, but wisdom, peace, and contentment (but I have discovered a lot of logical, rational, defendable answers...it just seems sometimes that answers can lead to more questions, you know how it goes...). As I have released my tension to God and within community and people who are either in the same place as me or a little older and a little wiser, God has filled me with an overwhelming sense of his goodness. This has been a difficult process, and I have been extremely emotional, passionate, angry, and probably scary at times (sorry roomates, PFC leadership, and COF). But I think that vulnerability with God has taught and continually teaches me to trust in him. Trust that I may never know how to answer all of the questions, but he hasn't left me alone in this journey. He's given me friends to go through it with me, and friends who have been there and have seen the other side of this process. He's given me friends to challenge my thinking, and develop my mind and formulation of my theological paradigm. To make sure that conclusions I come to make sense and that can stand up to more questions. And friends that have offered another perspective, so I gain the realization that there are 7 billion perspectives on this planet and there is the possibility that what I think about this one little thing might not be right. Good friends.
The body of Christ is a beautiful gift. I'm thankful that he offers himself through community and the revelation of truth through scripture. I'm thankful that he continues to be faithful to us when we are faithless. He isn't afraid of our questions, our wounds, and our hurts. We shouldn't be afraid to ask him about them and ask others for help along the way.
"I don't believe in God."
"That doesn't matter, he believes in You."
-The Count of Monte Cristo
A couple weeks ago I listened to a talk given by Floyd McClung Jr. The overall topic was being a good and loving neighbor. He's passionate about loving others though service and making yourself available for the Holy Spirit to work through you. In the middle of the talk, he reflected on his experience at Bible College:
"For four or five years people were storming through school to learn something and became very calloused and cynical in the process. I don’t know of a greater hot bed of cynicism in the United States than Christian Colleges because you can see it all and get all the theory and practice very little of it because you don’t have time. That’s a dangerous state to be in. If you have to take ten or twelve credit hours and take 6 years to get through but you become what you’re learning, you’ll be a far wiser person. Don’t hear it and not practice it. The biblical words for knowledge never separate the cognitive processes from the application to the character of the person who is learning. And if you ever get to the place where you’re fascinated with theory and it’s not touching your hands and your heart, you’re in a dangerous state....let it touch your heart, let it be a part of your character, how you live your life out."
I spent the day at the pool with Brittni yesterday and we discussed our experience at Lee (I'm still there...working on year number 6...) and how confronting life, theology, and our faith has changed us and the people we know and love. There have been some incredibly difficult issues of the mind and heart. It's hard for people who grow up in church that isn't raw, transparent, realistic, and outward-focused. It's difficult because life doesn't turn out to be as easy and delightful as Christianity can make it seem. Or as black and white. We're young, passionate, and full of life but all of us have had some kind of painful experience or process of the mind that causes us to question the existence/goodness of God...and everything else.
"Is he real? Or has this all just been in my head? Am I allowed to have fun as a Christian? Is it all about following all these rules? If I am supposed to trust God, why didn't he heal my family? Why did Dad/Mom leave us? If God is love, why did my boyfriend/girlfriend break up with me? Why is my heart and mind torn in a million pieces? If you are so good, why did that bus full of innocent people have to die? And they believed in you?! God is our heavenly father...if he is anything like my father then I don't want anything to do with him. I feel abandoned, alone, afraid. Pissed off. What the hell God? My professors are asking these questions, showing me this research and philosophy that goes against what I thought was reality. The Jesus Seminar, The God Who Wasn't There, Evolution, Historical Criticism, The Existence of Hell. I was told growing up that you were here. Well I don't feel you. I don't know you. All I know is my empty, dry, parched soul. Insecurities. Fears. Doubts. Worries. Apathy. Cyncism. Anger. Deep, seething, puss-filled wounds. Wounds from shitty, greedy, fat, ego-centric, pharisee-filled Christianity. Unending questions. "
I have experienced most of these things, as have a lot of my friends. Studying the Bible and Theology in a college community is beautiful and incredibly difficult at the same time. It's beautiful in that it effects everything that you are, every aspect of your thinking, living, and being. It's difficult in that it effects everything that you are, every aspect of your thinking, living, and being. And everyone is going through it together. Which builds community, but it sucks because we're all the same. There's very few available around who have been through what we have and can offer a hand and wisdom to help us out on this difficult but necessary journey.
My heart yearns for people in this school to experience all of these things with the knowledge and comfort that someone else has been there. That it isn't going to last forever. I don't say this in a accusatory way, but I think that Christian Colleges (or at least Lee University) have done a huge disservice to their students if they offer theory but not practical, hands-on ministry experience (that goes beyond singing, dramas, or preaching)(thank God for PFC and organizations like it). I think that what has helped me through this time has been the opportunity to live out my faith while I am asking all of these questions. If I hadn't been able work with the homeless and see the look on someone's face when I give them a warm meal on a cold day when they had no idea where their next meal was coming from, I wouldn't know what the goodness if God is all about. What's killer is when they say "God bless you..." or talk about how good God has been to them. I spoke with this guy last summer in New Orleans named Coolio who lived on the street and taught me how to play dry-wall buckets like drums. We just started talking and he went on and on about how good God was. He called himself a prophet, like John the Baptist, and said he talked to God all the time. He went on and on and on about how he was never hungry, that God always provided for him. He just loved the Lord. It was that simple. And refreshing. It gave me a little perspective.
There's just something about God, something about Jesus and living in the faith that requires action, movement, a behavioral response. It's vital to seek knowledge, to wrestle with faith, to develop the mind and your theological paradigm. But the Bible is a powerful book, and when the living water gets in you, it has to flow out of you or it just sits inside and become stagnant. So while we wrestle with theology, it is vital to get outside of our minds and focus on other people just for a little while. So we don't go insane, or miss out on following the example of Christ through the joy of serving others. I think that it is possible to have an actual encounter with Christ while reaching out to the needy. "Whatever you have done to the least of these you have done to me..."
What's really cool about serving other people, whether it be homeless, elderly, children, adults, or fellow college students, is that sometimes, if you're really lucky, you get to hear a bit of their story. The story of their life. Of their disappointments, shattered dreams, their wounds, their pain. But also their joy and comfort, their openness and vulnerability to allow God to heal their wounds and restore their hearts and minds. It's just good to hear the story of God. To see that he is and has done great things. That we may not understand why life is the way it is, but that Christ has suffered a hundred thousand times more than we ever will and knows what we are going through in our pain.
And serving is just one practical aspect. God has used me to pray specific things for people who I didn't know...but it was exactly what they needed at that time. I know people who have seen actual physical healing and miracles. I have heard countless stories and have experienced God providing money, food, and clothes for people who needed it. When we make ourselves available, he uses us and it just adds another paragraph to the story of God. It makes faith real, practical, and tangible.
I've been going to the Vineyard the past few weeks, and I am excited about what God is doing through them. Jeff and the pastoral staff believe in reaching out to this generation. They want to be mentors, mothers, and fathers. And I think that it's a really good thing. I hope that people in this community will see the need for people to not necessarily tell them all the right answers, but to be there to listen and offer wisdom when it is appropriate. To lead them in serving other people and getting outside of themselves for a little while. To tell them their stories of their wounds, their questions, their frustration with the Church, and how God reveals his goodness when we are vulnerable with him and community.
As I mentioned earlier, I am about to enter my sixth year of college. And for a long time I have felt this sense of shame/guilt/frustration because school has taken me longer than the normal 4 years. But now I am glad that I have chosen the path I have. As I have learned about God, I have been able to apply what I learn to my life and gain practical experience that I wouldn't trade for anything. I've learned how to be vulnerable with God and with others. I have learned to ask him my questions, expose my wounds, my weaknesses, my frustrations, my hopeless feelings. And what I have gained may not be all of the answers or a clear-cut theological paradigm, but wisdom, peace, and contentment (but I have discovered a lot of logical, rational, defendable answers...it just seems sometimes that answers can lead to more questions, you know how it goes...). As I have released my tension to God and within community and people who are either in the same place as me or a little older and a little wiser, God has filled me with an overwhelming sense of his goodness. This has been a difficult process, and I have been extremely emotional, passionate, angry, and probably scary at times (sorry roomates, PFC leadership, and COF). But I think that vulnerability with God has taught and continually teaches me to trust in him. Trust that I may never know how to answer all of the questions, but he hasn't left me alone in this journey. He's given me friends to go through it with me, and friends who have been there and have seen the other side of this process. He's given me friends to challenge my thinking, and develop my mind and formulation of my theological paradigm. To make sure that conclusions I come to make sense and that can stand up to more questions. And friends that have offered another perspective, so I gain the realization that there are 7 billion perspectives on this planet and there is the possibility that what I think about this one little thing might not be right. Good friends.
The body of Christ is a beautiful gift. I'm thankful that he offers himself through community and the revelation of truth through scripture. I'm thankful that he continues to be faithful to us when we are faithless. He isn't afraid of our questions, our wounds, and our hurts. We shouldn't be afraid to ask him about them and ask others for help along the way.
"I don't believe in God."
"That doesn't matter, he believes in You."
-The Count of Monte Cristo
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