Separation

I’ve been keeping up with a very intriguing conversation via Facebook with some new friends of ours.  I’ll briefly let you in on the topic.  Last Thursday night there was  a gathering of people discussing the implications of the separation of church and state.  Unfortunately, my wife and I were unable to attend the meeting since we’d had very little sleep the night before.  Needless to say, as you might imagine, the conversation following the originally purposed question about opinions on matters of church and state quickly got intense.  Most of the comments were cordial enough, outside of a couple missiles fired from the “religious” camp.

As my wife and I consider our calling and participation in the reconciliation of this world back to it’s Creator, it got us thinking.  In our minds, the idea of holiness was rolling around in our minds and my wife, out of the blue, asked, “what is the original Greek meaning of the word ‘holy’?”  I dug deep in the recesses of my mind, searching for a definition.  Separation.  Set apart. Both excellent descriptions.  Biblical descriptions at that.  However, we both had a feeling there must be more.  Now, here’s the meat.

note: those of you who are Christians reading this, I am primarily writing to you, because that’s what I know, it has become who I am.  At some point, we are going to have to wake up and smell the roses, or as is most often the case, smell our own hypocrisy.

We (Christians) believe we are called to be a reflection of Christ, a holy people.  Typically, I would have described that charge as relating to piety, or being pious.  As I mentioned before, both the Hebrew (qodesh) and Greek (hagios) have been translated as holy, hallowed, sanctified or sometimes sacred.  More literal translations describe being set apart or separate.  But, get this.  In Hebrew, there is a word used to describe a harlot or whore.  qedeshah. And the male prostitute, or sodomite: qadesh. Both of these words are derivatives of the Hebrew word qodesh.  Now, if that doesn’t throw a wrench in your gears, there’s not hope for you to ever be what God intended for you to be.  For the rest of us, who now realize that we really don’t have anything figured out, think about the implications.

It brings a totally different meaning to the common Christian phrase, “you’ve been bought with a price.”  Spend some time considering what this means for your relationship with God.  But, I want to spend just a moment and go back to the conversation I mentioned above.

Consider this.  How is a whore or a sodomite treated?  How much say does that person have in their relationships?  Now, please don’t start thinking negatively, because it is entirely too easy to do so.  Keep the positive ere please.  If we are to be holy, qedeshah/qadesh, whore, set apart, separate, why in the world do we spend so much time arguing with people about silly things like the separation of church and state?  Why do we as so called Christ followers, resort to violence and oppression (both figuratively and literally) every time we enter into one of these conversations?  The “ultimate love of God” comes across as little more than a judgemental, ugly, I’m-better-than-you-are attitude that in no way pours out the true love God wants his people to experience.  Do we as Christian people honestly think we have the right to say whatever we want?  I vaguely remember scripture saying something about putting aside your “rights…”

I could probably go on and on, but I’ll call it quits and end with this.  As I told my friends just today, I am sorry for the evils we (my Christian brothers and sisters) have cause in the world.  I am sorry that we continue to live blindly in hypocrisy, elevating ourselves above everyone else.

I am a follower of Christ.  I don’t know all the answers.  I’m a hypocrite and a pharisee.  I’m still learning and growing and I thank God each and every day for the grace he pours out on me.  If only I can learn to be so gracious.  Teach me; for the sake of this world…

Rhythms

I think that hidden somewhere within the definition of rhythm is the word discipline.  I have always had trouble with the concept of discipline.  Not so much when it has to do with disciplining a child or other forms of correction, but more-so when it’s used to describe personal discipline.  This, as I’m sure I’ve mentioned before, is one area in which I feel completely helpless.  I have no power over the things I want to do.  Rather, the very things I don’t like to do, or should do at another, more opportune time, that’s what I end up doing.  Sounds a little familiar to something an ancient saint once wrote…

So, as a youth minister, there are certain tasks which are part of the job.  A pretty significant one on that list, teaching classes.  I could wing it most of the time, but what good does that do for anyone involved?  I’ve probably mentioned it before as well; I strongly feel that we all learn best by experience and self discovery.  That said, how do we find new rhythms of experience?  How can we discipline ourselves for self discovery?  How can we align ourselves along the paths God has laid?

One of the things I’m working toward in this new ministry I’ve started is creating a culture, even an ecosystem, of friendship, relationship and growth.  I desire a place where teenagers can come, bringing friends, and know, without a doubt, that they are going to experience the love of Christ in new and even shocking ways.  I don’t want us to do the “same ole, same ole…”  I believe it should be possible to create a culture that produces people who care about obvious things like, loving God and each other as well as taking care of this planet, keeping a reign on our tongues and working peacefully for justice in this world.  The Kingdom of Heaven is something people should and can experience now, not when you die.  It’s my conviction that the Kingdom reaches much further than the typical read you Bible, go to church and follow all the rules.  I would argue that as important as we may think those things are, we too often miss the boat.  In fact, I would also argue that for most of evangelical Christianity, the boat is completely out of sight and we’ve become comfortable treading water thinking this is it…

Here’s the deal.  Discipline is vitally important.  But, we’ve got to start aiming our ammunition in other direction.  We’ve got to use our energy for Kingdom purposes.  If we believe God is a God who cares about this world, then as imitators of him, we’d better get after it.  Ever wonder why even the mention of God or Christian or church stirs up such nasty aromas in people?  It’s probably because the god they’ve seen in people around them says, “you have to go to church, you have to act a certain way and if you don’t, I’ll eradicate you.  And by the way, you’re a screw-up and you’d better get things right before you come through the doors of our church…”

All that to say, as followers of Jesus, distinct from the “religious elite” and “posers” who like the benefits of religion, we have to set some new rhythms.  Doing things the same ole way is going to produce the same ole results, 100% of the time.  I follow the One who offers life, and freedom, and excitement, right here, right now.  His Kingdom promises a better life for everyone, here and now, not sometime in the distant, invisible future.

So, what’s that means for my youth group and the class I’m supposed to teach tonight?  I have no idea… I’m glad God is in control and does what he needs to despite my awful handicaps.

An Interesting week…

Since this is the easiest place for me to write a good, long description, I’ll deviate from my usual deep thinking topics and give a quick update on my boy.

Some of you may have already heard, but if not, here’s the skinny.  Sunday night was the 3rd (or 4th, can’t remember) croquet festival.  You heard me right, a church croquet festival.  The competition was intense.  But, that’s for another day.

Most everyone from church was there, along with plenty of kids for a good evening of running, screaming and bouncing on the blow up bounce house.  All was going smoothly until my second shot at the third wicket.  There was a shriek from the bounce house, and though I’ve only heard that scream once before, I knew it was our rough-and-tumble three year old.  He’d been joyfully bouncing when he landed awkwardly and his upper body twisted around his right femur and broke it.  He wouldn’t let us touch it, we could barely hold him and he was simply not calming down.  So, we knew something was wrong.

The bike trailer he arrived in behind my bike was not going to cut up to the emergency room, so one of the sweet ladies at church offered to drive us.  We arrived at the ER, signed in and waited for a few minutes.  The sweet ER nurse struggled with a thrashing baby boy to get an IV started.  A couple doses of morphine later and he was at least tolerating the pain.  X-rays weren’t much fun, but they told us he had definitely broken his femur and that we needed to stay the night.  We arrived at the ER around 7pm and (I thought waiting in an ER in Canada for 12 hours was bad) 21 hours later, our three year old finally went under to get his leg set.  Socialized or whatever kind of health care system you call ours; no three year old with a &%$#! broken femur should have to writhe in agony for 21 #$@%!& hours!  (But, I don’t have any hard feelings about it…)

Anyway, we were finally able to come home around 8:30 pm last night.  He’s done really good, considering he’s got a broken leg and a cast from his nipples down to both toes.  The next few weeks are going to challenging, to say the least.  Thankfully we’ve got a wonderfully loving church family to help us get through everything.

Thank you all for your prayers and concerns.  We solicite any more you’d like to offer.  We’ll try to keep you posted.  He’s doing well right now, just watching losts of movies, playdough (spelling), and water guns.  He’s a precious boy who’s been a trooper through this whole thing.  When a three year old is breathing through his pain, he’s WAY tougher than I am.  Now’s he’s just giggling and laughing, wishing he could move the lower half of his body.

So, I’ll probably be posting here in the next couple weeks considering the implications of faith, new work and a three year old with a broken leg.  So, keep checking back.