My Occasional Political Soapbox Rant

It feels like an extended full moon season the way people are acting. Actually, it’s just election season, and people have lost their ever-loving minds. In response, I broke from the norm and wrote a rare political rant. Here goes (deep breath):

Rant for the day: It seems to me as long as the two-party system is in play, both parties are all too willing to play up the other side as being evil and how you must vote for our candidate unless you want “them” to win.

There’s an underlying sinister attitude on both sides that says, “You’re gonna take what we give you and like it. If not, there’s the door. The other side will be glad to have you.”

Sadly, too many are too willing to drink either the blue Democratic or the red Republican kool aid. Too many are selling out their own ideology and beliefs to tote the party line instead of thinking for themselves. Too many will turn a blind eye to the faults of their side while magnifying the faults of the other side and demonizing anyone who disagrees with them in any way. The end result will most likely be more of the same, regardless of the outcome. Here endeth the rant.

The point I’m making is that people are once again willing to believe that politics as usual can solve what is ultimately are deep spiritual problems that no human candidate (male or female) can solve. Once again, most will be disappointed when they find out the result is politics as usual.

I’ve mentioned it before, but it bears repeating. After this election, we will have a new president, but Jesus will still be King. In four (or eight) years when the next one steps into office, Jesus will still be King. After the last President, Jesus will still be King.

My hope isn’t in what some politician will do in the distant future or in the promises he or she makes. My hope lies in what Jesus has already done and in the promises He’s fulfilled. I’m banking on the fact that whatever I am afraid of and whatever obstacle lies in front of me Jesus has already overcome and defeated on the cross.

My hope is not in Trump or Clinton. My hope is still in Jesus.

 

 

2,200 and Counting

“And don’t be wishing you were someplace else or with someone else. Where you are right now is God’s place for you. Live and obey and love and believe right there. God, not your marital status, defines your life” (1 Corinthians 7:17, The Message).

I recently received a notification of my six-year anniversary with WordPress. I’ve come a long way since that very first blog way back in July of 2010 that announced my arrival into the wild and exciting world of blogging (said with sarcasm).

I’m still not a fan of the word “blog.” It sounds like something you do that you don’t ever discuss in polite conversation, especially in mixed company. It also sounds like something you blow out of your nose when you have a cold.

In the ultimate irony, I’m slowing learning that to grow up and get to the place God created you to be, the best place to start is to learn to be content with where you are and who you are. The more you strive out of insecurity or envy, the more you find you’re vainly fighting the air while running in place. You don’t get very far that way.

The best way to find contentment is gratitude. Giving thanks makes what you have enough (as Ann Voskamp has said more than once) and it makes your life fuller and richer by putting your focus on what you have instead of what you lack.

Giving thanks opens your hands to receive more true riches from God’s hand. The problem with the prosperity gospel is that it focuses on the temporary riches that rust and fade, but the true riches that come with thanksgiving are the kind that are eternal and changeless.

I’m thankful tonight for a job that I enjoy, a cat who also moonlights as a very affordable therapist, a comfy bed, people who care about me, and a God who is crazy about me even after all these years.

I’d call that the good life.

 

Another Night of Worship

It’s 10:19, I’m tired, and my feet hurt. A little. That’s a good thing. A very good thing, in fact.

I tallied just over 13,000 steps today after getting in over 22,000 yesterday. I’ve put in quite a bit of walking lately, which hopefully translated into burned calories and lost weight.

Tonight was the semi-annual Kairos Night of Worship. The theme was Wildfire, praying  to be the spark that leads to revival fires breaking out in this land.

I’ve been praying for revival, especially in my own heart. Everyone goes through seasons of dryness and numbness in their spiritual walks and I am no exception to the rule. I know faith isn’t solely about feelings, but I also know that it can be rough when it feels like you’re going through the motions.

Still, God is faithful, even when I’m not. His fidelity more than makes up for my lack of it. If it were up to me, I’d have fallen away a long time ago, but it’s not. God is more than up to the challenge of holding on to me during the seasons when I’ve felt like letting go and giving up.

It was a great night. Sure, the worship songs were amazing and the teaching was stellar. For me, the best part was the reminder that my primary identity, the core of who I am deep down, is that of Abba’s child.

All of my failings and weaknesses do not define me any longer. My on-and off-again passivity does not define me. Being Abba’s child and hearing my Abba call me Beloved is what defines me both now and forevermore. That’s what I choose to identify myself as from this day forth.

I’m thankful for family and friends who consistently remind me of my true identity and who encourage me to be better today than I was yesterday. Thanks, everyone.

 

 

My Deepest Awareness

“When I get honest, I admit I am a bundle of paradoxes. I believe and I doubt, I hope and get discouraged, I love and I hate, I feel bad about feeling good, I feel guilty about not feeling guilty. I am trusting and suspicious. I am honest and I still play games. Aristotle said I am a rational animal; I say I am an angel with an incredible capacity for beer.
To live by grace means to acknowledge my whole life story, the light side and the dark. In admitting my shadow side I learn who I am and what God’s grace means. As Thomas Merton put it, ‘A saint is not someone who is good but who experiences the goodness of God.’

The gospel of grace nullifies our adulation of televangelists, charismatic superstars, and local church heroes. It obliterates the two-class citizenship theory operative in many American churches. For grace proclaims the awesome truth that all is gift. All that is good is ours not by right but by the sheer bounty of a gracious God. While there is much we may have earned–our degree and our salary, our home and garden, a Miller Lite and a good night’s sleep–all this is possible only because we have been given so much: life itself, eyes to see and hands to touch, a mind to shape ideas, and a heart to beat with love. We have been given God in our souls and Christ in our flesh. We have the power to believe where others deny, to hope where others despair, to love where others hurt. This and so much more is sheer gift; it is not reward for our faithfulness, our generous disposition, or our heroic life of prayer. Even our fidelity is a gift, ‘If we but turn to God,’ said St. Augustine, ‘that itself is a gift of God.’

My deepest awareness of myself is that I am deeply loved by Jesus Christ and I have done nothing to earn it or deserve it” (Brennan Manning, The Ragamuffin Gospel: Good News for the Bedraggled, Beat-Up, and Burnt Out).

Occasionally, I like to bring in special guest writers. By that, I mean that I am too tired (and/or lazy) to do my own writing and I quote from a writer who expresses my own thoughts better than I ever could ( with the lone exception about having an incredible capacity for beer, which I do not). This is why I named by blog The Ragamuffin Gospel.

Feeding the Multitudes: Inspired by Tonight’s Kairos Message

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Jesus said something that struck me as a bit odd during the account of the first feeding of the 5,000. When the disciples asked how they were to feed all the multitudes who had followed Jesus, Jesus said to them, “You feed them.”

On the surface, it seems strange that Jesus should ask such a monumental task of 12 men to feed what probably amounted to 20,000 people (counting women and children). Why would Jesus ask that?

I think what Jesus wanted was their willingness to sacrifice whatever they held in their hands for the work of Jesus. In this case, it was two fishes and five loaves given to them by a small boy. It was at the same time a sacrifice and a confession of woeful inadequacy.

That was what Jesus blessed and multiplied to minister to the many.

In this day and age, many of us are praying for peace. We ask that Jesus step in and make peace by bringing unity to the racial tensions and strife.

Jesus says to us in turn, “You go and make peace.”

“How?” we ask.

“What do you have in your hand?” Jesus asks us.

“Not much. Not nearly enough to accomplish reconciliation. But whatever I have is Yours. I give it to You.”

What Jesus is looking for in us isn’t extraordinary ability but unconditional availability. What He asks from us isn’t great acts or passionate speeches. What He asks for from us is our very selves.

That’s where the miracle begins.

 

I Just Can’t People Today

So, the low-grade fever is back. I still feel blah (but nowhere near death’s door). I still managed to get in all my Wednesday activities (before I was aware of The Return of the Fever).

I participated in the Summer Singles Series at The Church at Avenue South. Afterward, some of us went out to eat at Las Palmas. It wasn’t the best meal I’ve ever had, but that really wasn’t the point. It was being around people.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t people very well today. I’ve been in brain fuzz mode all day long. My mental capacity is about at the level of “Fire bad. Tree pretty” (those who know what TV show I’m referencing are awesome).

I spent most of my mental energy keeping my eyes open. I felt like that pug in the videos who is fighting vainly to stay awake in the middle of the day. It’s the pug life, fo’ reals, y’all.

Anyway, some days it’s okay not to be the most social person in the world. Sometimes it’s okay to be alone with your thoughts. Introversion (or just slightly less extreme extroversion) is not a sin. Some of the best minds have been introverts. Especially when they could keep their eyes open.

As I mentioned previously, if this is as bad as I’m going to feel, I’m okay. I can still function (just not without the aid of much, much coffee) and I can still fulfill all my adult obligations.

The key, as always, is to be thankful for being alive and still in mostly good health. The rest is still gravy.

 

I’m Sick

It’s official. I have a fever and I feel bad. I’m sick.

As much as I like to think that I am brave and stoic in the face of illness, I’m not. Actually, I’m a bit of an overdramatic martyr, truth be told. In my own passive aggressive way, I want everyone around me to be aware of the agony I’m in so they can feel appropriately sorry for me and buy me nice things and do nice things for me.

I regaled more than one person with the thrilling tale of how I drove from work with the A/C off and the vent on because of the chills. It was brutal. I didn’t even sweat one drop the whole way, even though I normally would have been perspiring like the pig that’s about to be bacon.

I made sure that people saw how I was shaking and shivering under all that nasty air conditioning when I was clearly not well. Anyone should have been able to tell that just by looking at my poor miserable face.

Yet here I am, sick. Honestly, I’ve felt much crummier and if this is the worst experience I go through, I’m doing alright.

I know several who are worse off than I. I have a friend who has been to doctor after doctor trying to diagnose and lingering illness that causes her to be extremely fatigued and with a weak immune system to fight off infection. I know several who are fighting courageous battles with cancer, including one who recently lost his battle.

Viewed the right way, illness can be an opportunity rather than solely a burden. You can always serve those who are worse off than you (and if you can’t physically serve, you can send encouraging notes or texts letting them know you are thinking and praying for them. Encouraging words tend to have the same effect on those who write them as with those who receive them.

You can use illness as a means to stand in solidarity with those around the world who suffer daily from hunger, malnourishment, disease, and abuse. You can use your aches and pains as a reminder to pray to the Healing God for those everywhere who live daily with chronic pain and diseases.

This just in. I’m not at death’s door just yet. I’ll probably be right as rain in a day or two with hardly a memory of all my dire suffering.

 

The Fasting and the Feast

“When the fast, the death, the sacrifice of the gospel is omitted from the Christian life, then it isn’t Christian at all. Not only that its boring. If I just want to feel good or get self-help, I’ll buy a $12 book from Borders and join a gym. The church the Bible described is exciting and adventurous and wrought with sacrifice. It costs believers everything and they still came. It was good news to the poor and stumped its enemies. The church was patterned after a Savior who had no place to lay his head and voluntarily died a brutal death, even knowing we would reduce the gospel to a self-serving personal improvement program where people were encouraged to make a truce with their Maker and stop sinning and join the church, when in fact the gospel does not call for a truce but a complete surrender.
Jesus said the kingdom was like a treasure hidden in a field, and once someone truly finds it, he will happily sell everything he owns to possess that field. a perfect description of the fasting and the feast. It will cost everything, but it is a treasure and an unfathomable joy. This is the balance of the kingdom; to live we must die, to be lifted we bow, to gain we must lose. There is no alternative definition, no path of least resistance, no treasure in the field without the sacrifice of everything else” (Jen Hatmaker, 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Access).

So I finished reading the book 7. I highly recommend it to anyone who’s tired of the same old same old and is looking for something fresh and different. It’s for those who are weary of the prevalence of consumeristic Christianity that has overtaken much of America’s churches, along with a definite trend toward style over substance.

Most of what passes for the gospel these days is either some form of sin management, self-help program, or a variation of the “I’m okay, you’re okay, everyone’s okay.” The Apostle Paul said very clearly more than once that even if he or an angel should proclaim any other kind of gospel other than the gospel of Jesus as presented and expounded upon in the writings of Paul, let him (or her) be condemned.

I was convicted in several areas about my own excesses and my bouts of self-centeredness in opposition to serving others. We in this country have the means to alleviate a lot of the world’s suffering, but we choose rather to spend on lavish buildings   with the latest technologies and comforts. In other words, we’d rather spend it on ourselves.

So I’m telling you to run to your local bookstore (or your local laptop and your local amazon website) to get this book. You will not regret it.

 

Even You

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If you’re not a hipster, this is for you.

If you’re not a high I, type A, socially outgoing person who is always the life of the party who everyone wants to be around all the time, this is for you.

If you’re socially awkward at times and what’s in your head isn’t always what comes out of your mouth (including a long list of word you desperately wish you could take back), this is for you.

If you are an outsider, an outcast, a freak, a pariah, a loner, a loser, or just feeling unwanted and unknown and undesirable, this is for you.

When Jesus comes to your town looking for followers, He sees you hiding up in that tree like wee little Zaccheus. He sees you inching toward the back of the crowd, certain that Jesus will choose the popular and attractive people to be on His team.

He’s headed your way. You wonder if He’s about to tell you that you don’t belong here. That only the more successful more put-together, more upwardly-mobile people need apply.

But that’s not what He’s approaching you for.

He points to you. He calls you by name. Not one of the names given to you by all those who trample over you on their way to the top. Not one of the names by those who have deeply wounded your soul over the years. Not even on of the names you call yourself late at night when your defenses are down and your mind is unfiltered.

Jesus calls you by a name that you’ve never known before but know you could be. He calls out something better in you than you thought you could be. Jesus call you and tells you to follow.

“Even me?” you ask.

“Especially you,” Jesus replies. “Always you.”