More Changes, Part 3: Personal Responsibility

One of my oldest friends posted a comment on yesterday’s post about how God created men and women in his own image, complete with the ability to think and feel and reason, and yet when we use these abilities to make important life-defining decisions people tell us that we aren’t listening to God.

His comment made me realize that I have a lot to say on that subject. It’s not the topic I’d intended for today’s post, but the other stuff can wait.

It was actually something that someone on the worship team said recently that first got me thinking about this. They were about to sing “Rescue,” and he mentioned that a lot of times he doesn’t “feel like” doing the right thing, and in moments like that he relies on God to change his heart and “rescue” him from being unforgiving or selfish or whatever.

It was another one of those flashes of clarity for me.

I’m not trying to be antagonistic or hostile when I point out that A LOT of good Christians won’t have anything to do with organized religion because they feel that the churches are full of hypocrites. It’s not hard to see why they feel that way, but I truly believe that the majority of church people honestly do not see themselves as hypocrites, even when to any non-churchy observer their behavior bears no resemblance to their proclaimed beliefs. It’s like they’re somehow blind to their own duplicity.

As an unofficial student of humanity, this was a mystery I really wanted to solve. Worship-Team-Guy’s comments helped with that. So, here are my conclusions on the matter.

I believe that church people (I think I’ll just call them CP’s) believe that if God meant for them to feel compassion (or forgiveness or tolerance or whatever) in any given circumstance, that He would put that feeling into their hearts so that they could behave accordingly. If a difficult situation arises and what they feel is resentment and a desire to punish someone…well then obviously God must have put those feelings into their heart, since they walk so closely with Him and all. The person/people who caused the resentful feelings must be Wrong and Bad, and it’s just doing God’s work to punish them. If an uncertain situation comes up and the CP feels threatened by something unfamiliar to them, then obviously God MADE them feel threatened because that unfamiliar thing is A Threat and must be destroyed. Just doing the work of Jesus. If circumstances are changing and the CP liked things the way they were before, then God must be telling them that the changes are Wrong and Bad and have to be stopped by any means, up to and including manipulation, deceit and sabotage. It’s GOD’S WORK, people.

This is, of course, a big steaming pile of what cattle leave behind.

Jesus was pretty clear on how we’re supposed to to treat one another. And those 10 Commandments seem pretty clearly defined too. Nowhere in my Bible have I read, “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor…unless you’re pretty sure he’s no friend of thine or Mine.”

Christian love isn’t something you “have.” It’s something you DO. It’s a choice you make every day, ESPECIALLY in the difficult situations when your heart is full of resentment at some injustice and you have to decide, right there in the middle of your anger, between grace or vengeance. That’s why they’re CALLED trials. It wouldn’t be much of a test if the Holy Spirit just swooped down and made you FEEL like doing the right thing, would it?

We are personally responsible for every choice we make, every hard truth or convenient lie we tell, every act of kindness or cruelty we commit, every bit of sly manipulation or honest respectful communication we extend to our fellow humans. Not just the humans who are like us, not just the ones on “our side,” not just the wealthy ones or the popular ones or the Republicans or the Americans or the ones who don’t let their kids read Harry Potter books.

As Jesus pointed out, a shiny-clean appearance doesn’t count for much in the eyes of God if your insides are full of lies and spite.

I’ve known for a long time that the quickest, surest way to really get to know someone is to let them behave however they want, with no criticism or negative consequences from you. It doesn’t take some people very long to realize that they are free to treat you however they like, and that’s when you begin to see who they really are underneath the shiny-clean appearance. And when you’ve seen enough, you can decide for yourself whether to keep that relationship or move on.

I’ve had my good long look at organized religion.

I’m moving on.

Categories: Christianity, Life | 7 Comments

More Changes, Part 2

Last week when the kids and I were up on Mt. Rubidoux, I chatted for a little while with an artist guy who was up there shooting video of the Friendship Tower. He was going to use it in a Christmas greeting on YouTube this year instead of mailing out cards. I thought it was a wonderful idea, and it brought into clearer focus a conviction that’s been forming in my heart over the past few weeks. (But that’s another post.) As he handed me his business card and we went our separate ways, I got to thinking about a series of Sunday night services Pastor Bill gave recently on the subject of how the modern church could be doing a better job of reaching out to post-modern cultures. I’ve never been able to attend the Sunday night services, but I like to download the mp3s online and listen to them at home, and this particular series was very enlightening for me.

It was intended to help church people who may have a hard time understanding post-modern perspectives, but as a fairly post-modern type myself (can one be a post-modern cave-dweller?) I found it to be a fascinating look into the social perspectives of church people.

In the first sermon of this series, the Pastor gave his listeners an assignment for the following week: to make friendly eye contact with strangers that they passed in public, and smile if they felt up to it. The second week’s assignment was to actually offer a hello or some other verbal greeting to at least one or two passing strangers. By the third week he’d given up on these kinds of assignments, because…hardly anyone in his Sunday evening congregation could bring themselves to even manage the eye contact part, much less SPEAK to people they didn’t know. It was simply beyond them.

I was astonished. This was a huge revelation to me, and the first real insight I had into the Church Person Perspective. I’ve always thought that smiling at folks in stores or wherever was a basic part of how people interact. They almost always smile back at me, and occasionally there are friendly greetings exchanged, or even a chat if we happen to be standing in the same space, so I can’t be the only one who thinks this way.

One of my warmest memories from the Road Trip Of ’07 is of an evening in Shreveport, Louisiana, in a little Creole café. We’d checked into our hotel very late and should have eaten quickly and gone straight to bed, but the waiter was so much fun to talk to that we ended up stretching the conversation out until the café closed for the night. We were the only customers in there that late, so the waiter and the hostess basically hung out at our table and regaled us with stories, observations, questions and Southern mythology. It was wonderful. (Weeks later when I was back home in Anza, I got a card in the mail from the chef there, discounting my next meal at Guillaumes’ if I should ever find myself back in Shreveport.)

These are the intersections that connect us to one another. I can’t imagine not seeking out these moments of genuine human contact wherever I find the opportunity. I may be solitary in my day-to-day habits, but that’s mostly because I haven’t found my tribe yet; these chance interactions with friendly strangers always leave me feeling energized and optimistic and connected to something much bigger than my own small life.

Pastor Bill’s “Post-Modern Man” series gave me my first big flash of insight into why the average church person doesn’t feel comfortable around someone of my personality type. I LIKE people. I treat strangers — Louisiana waiters, wandering artists, fellow grocery shoppers — the way I like to be treated: as if we were friends who just haven’t met yet. This is, I believe, a very basic tenet of the teachings of Jesus. And yet somewhere along the way the modern church culture has apparently become disconnected from the actual daily practice of social love for mankind in general.

Once I understood that, it didn’t take me long to figure out the rest of it.

More to come!

Categories: Christianity, Friends, Life, Road trip | 21 Comments

Phone Update

I’m going to be canceling my landline service in the near future. I’ve only kept it this long because I don’t get cell range at home, or thought I didn’t, but I’ve recently discovered that I get four bars on my cell if I’m in the new addition, facing North, standing on one foot and wearing a hat. Score! That’ll save me a chunk of money every month, even though I’ll have to buy an external phone speaker to amplify my crappy little Tracfone’s volume.

As an added bonus I won’t have to talk to women trying to get hold of Steve anymore, or men who think they’re calling Steve’s house and mistake me for one of his women. (And not always the woman he’s currently living with, which somehow still annoys me even though I’m not the one he’s cheating on now.)

ANYWAY, If we’re friends you probably already have my cell number, but if you don’t and you want it drop me an email and, if we’re friends, I’ll give it to you. I’m not sure exactly when my landline service will end, but it’ll be soon.

Transition to wall-drawing cave-dweller: 63% complete.

Categories: frugality, Life | 2 Comments

Tuesday Tales: Life’s Little Surprises, Part 2

What Is This?

Part 1

CAST OF PART 2:
Casey Gavin: Me
Story, Setting and All Characters Who Are Not Casey: Aron Head.

**********

Casey’s “night” wrapped up just a bit before three a.m.  She had the bar cleaned up and her drawer cashed out.  She and the wait staff all exited together, everyone heading their own ways. Casey stepped around to the back lot, walking through the darkened alleyway and into the lamp light. As she approached her aged truck, she thought about how nice it would be to sleep when she got back to her place. She slipped her key into the lock and was suddenly aware of a presence beside her.

“Hi.” A skinny young man wearing khakis and a purple sweater stood beside her.  She recognized him from earlier in the bar. His burly friend in the jeans and UT sweatshirt stood off to the side. She’d never heard them come up. The skinny one asked, “Suppose you could give us a lift?”

She unlocked the door quickly, but kept her face friendly and her body language casual. “Sorry, guys,” she said lightly as she hopped up into the drafty cab and pulled the door shut…

The skinny guy’s hand darted out seizing the door, preventing her from closing it. “Hey…” he said in a soothing voice, “Don’t get your skirts in a ruffle. Just be neighborly.” His eyes blazed…hungrily at her. She felt… almost… like she wanted to give him and his friend a ride.

Almost.

She wasn’t sure why the idea of giving in to his request was so strangely compelling, but she really did know better than to offer rides to strangers at 3am. She looked back and met his eyes, still not really afraid. She knew how to handle difficult types. “Let go, friend,” she said in the same casual tone, but this time she put a light *push* behind the words.

…And she felt resistance.  Like pushing a brick wall.

A slow smile creased the skinny guy’s face. “What’cha doing there, girl? In my head and all?” His mouth hung open in a fierce grin.  She barely heard him say, “Bet you taste goooood.”

She only barely heard him because she was focused on his vicious fangs.

The burly fellow was baring his canines as well…

Now she was afraid. A cold knot tightened in her stomach as she stared wide-eyed at the two men. She didn’t believe in vampires or supernatural beings in general, but she did tend to believe the evidence of her own eyes…and right now that was telling her she was in a great deal of trouble. She could–maybe–handle the skinny guy, but there was no way she could take on both of them.

With all her might, she tried to pull the truck door out of the grasp of the skinny one, tried to slam it shut.

It didn’t move.  His arm must have been made of steel!

“What do you want?” She tried to keep her voice steady, keep things reasonable, but the question came out in a shaky whisper.

“Trouble.”

Skinny Guy’s head turned to view the speaker, as did Burly Guy.

Brandon Falco stood in the lamplit parking lot, his trenchcoat blowing about him like a cloak, giving him the look of some kind of heroic avenger.

The sense of relief that washed through Casey was almost overwhelming. She slumped back against the truck seat, let out a long, trembling breath.

“Isn’t that what you’re after, boys?  A little trouble?  Because that’s what you’ve found.”

Burly Guy took an aggressive step towards Falco.

Falco shook his head, “Burn.”

Casey sensed tremendous power…

And the Burly Guy screamed, his voice reaching the wailing pitch of a little girl.  He danced as if covered in stinging, biting insects…or… no… as if he was on fire.

Casey stared in fresh disbelief, not quite sure what she was looking at.

Burly Guy dropped to the asphalt, rolling left and right, patting at himself frantically…He sobbed, a tearful, wrenching cry…

Casey’s wide-eyed stare turned from the writhing man on the ground to Mr. Falco, trying to understand what she was seeing.

Falco locked eyes with Skinny Guy, “Leave the girl and you walk out of here undamaged.”

“Oh I’ll leave the girl,” Skinny Guy said, walking towards Falco, “I’ll leave her long enough to deal with you!”

“Mistake.”

Skinny Guy was lifted off his feet and spun about in the air.

Casey was having trouble drawing a breath. She felt like she had stepped into a nightmare, without the benefit of falling asleep first.

Skinny Guy flailed about, unable to prevent himself from being suspended upside down some five feet off the ground.

“Casey?” Falco asked, “You alright?”

She shrank away from him, her relief forgotten. She wanted to slam the truck door, fire up the engine, lay rubber on the Longhorn parking lot and get the hell out of whatever this was. But she couldn’t seem to move at all. She huddled against the truck seat, paralyzed by fear and confusion.

“Casey,” His voice was reassuring as he dug in his trenchcoat, “Though you might not want to watch this.” He drew a short, broad-bladed sword, which glinted in the lamplight. With a single fluid motion, he swung the blade… relieving the upside down vampire of his head.  Both head and body crumpled to the ground.

Tonight’s experience was taking on the surreal tones of hallucination. Casey wondered if someone slipped something into her soda at some point tonight. That might explain it….

Falco turned, performing the same action on the Burly Guy. Once both vampires were sans heads, he returned the sword to its hiding place within his coat. He walked to her…

She flinched, trying to gather her wits enough to get herself out of this.

“It’ll be okay…” He stopped, eyes flashing to the rooftops and the alleys. “…But I need to get you out of here.  Can you drive?  Or shall I?”

**********

Part 3

Categories: Austin After Dark, Fiction, vampires | Leave a comment

More Changes, Part 1

I almost decided not to post this one to my public blog, but it’s about a fairly large change in my life so this seems like the right place for it.

I’ve decided to take a break from church. In the past eight months or so there’s been an almost complete turnover in ministry leaders and staff, and the goals and methods and priorities of the new folks don’t really resonate with what I thought this little fellowship was supposed to be about. This is becoming more and more the case as time goes on — and they seem to be even more uncomfortable with me than I am with them.

Silver and gold have I none, and such as I have seems to be of no value to these new leaders. They’ve made that painfully clear in a multitude of ways that bear pretty much no resemblance to Christian love.

Sorry if I sound bitter. Maybe I am, a little. I’ll get over it.

For a long time I kept going to church anyway; partly because I felt loyal to Pastor Bill and really enjoyed his sermons, partly because I do still have friends there that I will miss visiting with every week, partly because Luke and Elizabeth enjoyed attending the Children’s Church and have friends of their own there, but mostly because I could not for the life of me figure out why these people do not like me. Unfinished lessons have a way of following you around from one situation to the next until you learn them, so I really wanted to know what the problem was before I moved on.

I don’t drink, smoke, gamble (unless the occasional game of bunco counts), sleep around or use drugs. I have mostly broken the profanity habit I picked up during my marriage. I am kind and friendly to people. I am not competitive or malicious or dishonest. I was very willing and eager to offer my time and energy to the various ministries until the people running them put all that effort into making me feel so unwelcome there. But such relentless alienation has to have SOME reason behind it, and I was determined to stick it out until I’d unraveled the mystery.

Which I finally have.

But that’s another post.

Categories: Christianity, Family, Friends, kids, Life | 10 Comments

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