Going Bald and the Mess That is Me

My twenty-fourth birthday came and went. I don't know if I can actually say that I am fully grown, because so much of my life has been spent being a kid. However, as I look in the mirror these days, I see a vastly different picture than I did ten years ago. The hair that I once had is quickly disappearing; the skin on my face that folds when I smile has left a permanent indention; and I am resigned to the fact that I will never have a six-pack. As with many other birthdays, I spent this one contemplating the shape that I have taken over these twenty-four years, and it seems apparent to me now that character is more passive than active. In other words, I am less what I have become, and more what has become me.

We are shaped by the uncontrollable. I've seen children from broken homes put up tough exteriors in order to escape their own emotions; men that come from motherless homes, be insensitive to their spouses; women that come from fatherless homes, do everything they can to gain favor from men. I'm not making the assumption that these cases are holistic, but all of our personalities seem to be a response to something in our past. 

This makes the call to faith much different. The apostle Paul uses the term, "adopted," to describe Christians. It's apparent that the term is deeper than being picked out of a group of orphans. Rather, it places on the adopted, a responsibility of action. We must spend our efforts to conform our character to that of our adopted father, rather than our earthly one. The process of salvation is more than believing, but responding to that salvation by rejecting the earthly imprint left on us by the circumstances we find ourselves in.

The result is a character that can best be described as, "other-worldly." At the end of my life, I hope that others can say, in honesty, that I always responded with kindness, acted in love, and treated others with compassion. This is the character of Christ, and the imprint that I want to become me. 

Coffee Shop Christianity

For the past few weeks, I have been going to a coffee shop almost every day. Usually, while I'm there, I am able to tune out the rest of the world and have a chance to think, write, and listen to whatever I have on iTunes. Sadly, I have now come into the coffee house so much that the workers ask me if I want the usual. I feel like Norm on Cheers. It's only a matter of time until they give me a shirt and an apron and put me to work! Being there as much as I am, I see all sorts of people walk in. Some come in and sit down with their bibles, and others come to socialize. However, everyone comes because the coffee shop has something that they like. For some, like me, it's solace with a little white noise, to others it's coffee and conversation, and to others it's anything but home.

I started thinking about the similarities between this coffee shop and the current situation of the church. Many, if not all, current Christian churches desire to have something for everyone. However, I ask myself how polarizing the Church is supposed to be. Are we supposed to be a bitter taste to some? When Christ says that the world will hate his followers (not a quote), is that because of our indifference toward the world, or the nature of the gospel? The conclusion that I came to is that it is both.

I see a trend with the modern church, in that we are trying to be popular. We attempt to create tantalizing special effects in order that it may captivate the congregation. Even small churches are attempting to prepare room in a modest budget for video screens and better instruments. What is the desired result? Hopefully it brings more people in that they might hear the gospel. Unfortunately it is a sleight-of-hand trick that leaves the audience staring at the distraction (the effects), rather than the revelation (the gospel). 

The mistake that I think we are making is that the appeal to the church is supposed to be the gospel. However, that makes most of you nervous, because you think that the gospel alone doesn't appeal to the masses, and you are right; it appeals to Christians. Ultimately, the Church is faced with a decision: would we rather have 10,000 of the unbelieving filling the pews, or 10 of the believing? I think the choice, for the most part, has been made. Consequently, our sanctuaries are filled with coffee shops and roller coasters. However, if there is a group of 10 believers that are fulfilling their evangelical obligations on the days between Sunday and Sunday, then the people that come to salvation will be attracted to the revelation of Christ. The Church will be polarizing to those that have no desire for Christ, and appealing to those that want to grow as disciples. 

Famous Penguins and the People That Watch Them

One of my favorite documentaries is The March of the Penguins. I saw it about a year ago at the request of my brother, after he had raved about it. It fascinated me to watch as these cute little penguins waddled their way through frigid temperatures to go through their annual mating processes, as if they were programmed to do so. The way they behaved was, at times, comical because they carried themselves like humans. They are creatures of habit that perform their natural courses without concern for the changes that surround them.

I started thinking, as is usually the case, about the similarities and differences between penguins and people. It occurred to me that people were meant to live in community. As the penguins marched to their destination, they stayed in the straightest of lines, so they could save the greatest number of troops. Upon arrival, they huddled to stay warm; each group taking turns in the middle of the pack. Yet, as my wife and I attempt to survive in the "big city" of Dallas, TX, I could not tell you the names of those that live around me. It is sad to think that as much as we are built to live in community, everything that is within us is conditioned for solitude. We have grown to desire everything at our fingertips, and we despise community.

This is, perhaps, the most dangerous form of evolution. Many creatures have adapted or "evolved" for basic survival, but humanity is the only being that has ever evolved toward destruction. As we isolate ourselves from each other, the fabric of family and community begins to tear. 

Additionally, it seems as though we've been torn apart by the search for truth. As each person attempts to construct his own "truth," he removes himself from every divergent... which is everyone. What would happen if the penguins followed suit? If they began to seek their own path, they would die. Instead, they continue to trudge through life together... as a community. It forces me to ask the question: Are we really the smartest of the bunch?