A Mindless Faith

I love books. I even like many Christian books. But I like books that make you think, not books that allow you to not think. I feel there are a lot of the latter floating around these days. In general, there seems to be a lack of thought in Christian circles.

I haven't read Love Wins yet. I don't view it as imperative - I don't really enjoy falling into the midst of pointlessly heated arguments - but i would still like to read it, because I like questions. It's a part of who I am. Hypothetical scenarios intrigue me; I sometimes take random scenarios much further than makes sense. (For instance: What if I didn't have knees?) So I appreciate any exercise of that way of thinking.

What bothers me isn't that people don't think like me - I'm fine with that. They don't need to love questions. But it's irritating to see outright resistance to any sort of statement that raises questions. And if any such questions are asked (even if in statement form), there's someone with the answer following the first. It's as if people are thrown into distress when they have to question what they assume, so they breathe a collective sigh of relief when somebody tells them "how it is." Christians would often rather have somebody else think for them.

When people look for a church, a commonly used rejection phrase is "I didn't really agree with their views." That's a legitimate concern. It is good to see eye-to-eye with your church, for the most part. However, "I didn't really agree with their views" too often becomes "I disagree with them on such-and-such a topic, and we don't have infinite like-mindedness." When this happens, searching for a church becomes looking for a crowd of mirrors. This person, that person, the pastor think what I think, say what I say, believe what I believe. I am not confronted with opposing ideological views. I bathe in the vanilla pudding that is me. I am safe.

Because of this pudding-loving nature that infects the mind of so many, true debate and discussion is corrupted. Debate becomes a sledgehammer, and discussion a mallet. People wield these blunt ideologies and opinions with no intention of examining their opponent's own weapon. Discussion should be exploration. It should be two or more people, daring to present their opinions without fear of or intent to attack. Instead, debate is raised voices and discussion is elevated heartbeats. The mind cares not about the reasons for believing; it cares only to believe unwaveringly.

Ray Bradbury saw the future. He saw a future where people don't care to think, don't care to analyze, don't care to feel in its truest sense. In some ways, society has progressed toward making him a prophet. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't want the mind to disappear, especially for Christians. We have not been called to a mindless faith.

Thanks in the Moment

[Skip to the last two paragraphs for the condensed version]

If rising of the sun could be equated with turning a corner, then Thanksgiving is right around the corner. Not that you need to know that - I just like to point out the obvious. Anyway, it only makes sense that I'd be thinking about thankfulness. I mean, of course I've thought of it in the past, especially around this time of year. But, for some reason, it has been different this year. A few thoughts have passed through my mind, and I thought I'd share a few of the discussions I had with them.

One of my friends wrote in her blog the other say, and one thing stuck with me. It was the idea of being thankful for the details, to really appreciate something in its entirety. It's another kind of thankfulness to appreciate something for even the oddities that make it unique. I'd like to be thoroughly thankful for the blessings in my life (even the little ones).

It's a Wonderful Life is my favorite Christmas movie. It has many of the elements I admire in a movie, one of them being the question, "What if I had never been born?" Any question that begins with "what if...?" is a question I respect. But a small thing that I enjoy about the movie is at the end, when George realizes how much he loves all the things that drove him nuts. I like that. So, I'm learning to be thankful for inconveniences.

A week or so ago, I heard one of the professors from my school speak in chapel. Now, I didn't catch all of it, because his voice is like warm milk. It's not that it's smooth or soothing--it's quite raspy, actually--but it tends to make me drowsy. What I did catch was what he said about food, which is supposed to be a theme this year at Cornerstone. One thing he said, in particular, caught my attention. It was that, though food is lacking in other countries, we shouldn't feel guilty about eating our food. Rather, we should be thankful for all the food we eat. Don't take it for granted. I need to develop an appreciation for the food I eat.

What all this led me to think is this: We treat thankfulness like it's a reflection or a thought. It's a state of mind to adapt every once in a while, something to ponder before and after. But maybe that's not what it should be. Maybe thankfulness should be an experience, an act of the present. Thankfulness is during the meal, when turkey rolls in your mouth and pumpkin pie slides down your gullet. When the birds sing and the sun shines on your face. When your car doesn't start or your computer freezes. We experience these things, but we tend not to be thankful until after they've passed. Our minds are preoccupied with the experience itself.

But what I wonder is this: How much better would that turkey taste if I really appreciate it in the moment? What perspective would I gain if I was thankful for my car's stubbornness as it resisted me? How much more beautiful would the birds sound if I consciously was thankful for them as they sang their melodies? Life is a gift, and it's meant to be lived. How can I adopt a living thankfulness? It's a fuller life that way.

V & 1984: A Comparison of Evey Hammond and Winston Smith

(To be honest, I have only seen the movie of V for Vendetta; I haven't read the graphic novel. I have only read 1984; I haven't seen the movie. I'm disappointed about the former, but indifferent about the latter.)

There are a number of parallels between V for Vendetta and 1984. Both take place in a dystopian world (both in London, even). Both involve repressive/oppressive governments that monitor their citizens diligently, ferreting out any voice of resistance. Both governments control the media, and enforce their tyrannies with terror-inducing branches of themselves. And, most importantly, both involve an encounter with the horrifying that tests the value of truth. This is embodied in Evey Hammond and Winston Smith. In these two characters, the creator of each story reveals his opinion of the resilience of the human spirit and its thirst for truth. Like I said, there are many parallels between these stories, but it's the differences I find interesting.

The first difference I notice between the two is the intensity of each dystopian world. In V, the United States were in utter chaos and civil war, but that chaos was only just reaching London. In 1984, though, the world was in a state of constant war and living conditions were miserable.

The second difference between the two is the stage at which the government/society has taken control. In 1984, the government has developed to the point where it has eyes and ears nearly everywhere. In fact, its knowledge seems so intrusive that those that seek to keep any resistance in check have been dubbed "the thought police."And it is part of only three societies on earth. In V, it is just England that has dominated the lives of the characters, and "the Finger," while still intimidating, hasn't reached that almost omniscient status.

The final difference is a difference of emphasis in each story which deals with the resilience of human determination.This is typified by Evey Hammond and Winston Smith and their respective torture experiences. Winston, when tortured beyond extreme anguish, turned from what he knew to be true, going even as far as to turn against the one person he held dear. For him, what he faced was worse than denial. Evey, on the other hand, reached a point where her knowledge of what was right and true outweighed any torture or death she might face. For her, denial was worse than death or anything else.

Sure, one could argue that the first two differences were factors that added to her resolution. Or it could be said that her torture was not as severe. But I think it doesn't matter - to one author, all humans will give up on the truth when pressed. To the other, there are many who will hold onto it. In 1984, there is no hope of revolution. In V for Vendetta, the people rise against tyranny. So which is it? Is there hope for the will of humanity, or will we give in when faced with our own demise? How much does the truth really matter?

One reason this has occupied my thoughts is that, when I read that book or watch that movie, I get a gut feeling that I'll be in the same situation one day. To remain resolute or give in. And I wonder... does it matter?

Getting Started

That's the hardest part. But I did. We'll see what happens from here.

Whaddya Want?

I long for a simpler time, when I knew what I wanted and how I felt. When my plans and ambitions were solid, concrete. When what I felt was strong and stable. When options didn't exist beyond two or three. When the future was one road, not thousands. When I got excited, had crushes, felt sad, got angry. When bitterness wasn't something to hold onto for emotions' sake. When specialization was only a word to spell. When all scientists did the same thing. When everything was obvious. When this was right and that was not.

Things are complex now. I can't even figure out what it is I aspire to be. Or whether I want to be with someone, much less who that is. The people in the game of LIFE have it easy - the spin of the wheel determines everything. It's tough when you get to pick the card. "What do you want?" they say. But I don't have an answer. And I refuse to let the major decisions of my life be things that you just do - there's got to be something deeper. If love is just a choice, I want no part in it. I want a vocation that I'm made for, not one I settle into. Where's fate to tell me what to do?

I play my music on shuffle. I use Pandora. Which is closest? What haven't I tried? What makes sense?

I need passion. I need to know what I want.

Hugs (are not as good as Kisses. Quite frankly, they suck. Because--let's face it--white chocolate is nasty with a capital N)

It didn't hit me until later the next day, but the other night I had a dream in which I got a giant bear hug form Ryan Davis. Ryan passed away, as you probably know, but I always looked up to him, even though I barely knew him. Anyway, the hug was one of those one-sided hugs that you rarely get anymore; it was completely overpowering. He picked me up, and I was helpless to do anything but hold on as he swung me back and forth.

That's the type of hug a kid gets, when you're embraced by someone so much bigger than you - you are really only receiving the hug. You get overwhelmed. In that moment, you know that person could take care of all your problems (and maybe even the problems of the entire world). And why would you think differently? You're just a child.

It seems like hugs like that don't happen anymore. They're always mutual and maintain a sense of independence. "I choose to display my affection and friendship to you, but I can handle my own problems, thank you very much."

I think there's something inside me that wants the former hug once in a while. To drop the whole independence shtick and completely depend on someone else. Someone I know will handle everything with my best interest in mind.

I guess I want my relationship with God to be like that. At least, that's what it should be like. I want a "Ryan Davis hug" faith. It's comforting and inspiring. And all I have to do is hold on,

Bittersweet (But Not Sweet At All)

I generally am not the type of person to hold a grudge. But when I feel someone has wronged me in a particular area of life, I pick up that habit easily. That wrong injects venom into my opinion of that person until I'm flowing with bitterness. But I'm not overt about it. Everything seems fine, but I make remarks in a way I wouldn't normally, usually by slighting the person in a rather snarky manner. My bitterness becomes an infection that eats me from the inside out.

The only thing that rids me of that bitterness is confrontation. In order to repair such a relationship, I have to express to the person exactly how their actions/words made me feel (not an easy task for me, since I don't really have much experience in that realm). Only then can the venom be removed, although the relationship is never quite the same again.

"Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to your neighbor, for we are all members of one body. In your anger do not sin: Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold." Ephesians 4:25-27

I've watched the sun set too many times.