Let The Rants Begin

I’m about ready to start a series of rants.

To be precise, I have three rants in mind, all aimed at areas where I find myself dissatisfied and embattled with my faith:

• A Rant on Christian “Leadership”

• A Rant on Christian “Exclusivity”

• A Rant on the “Liberal” Jesus

But before I start ranting like the neo-conservative rightwing militant Christians that so bug me, I need to say this:  I love my faith. I love how it transforms me. I love the promise Christ offers the world.

I don’t love, however,  the way Christians work with the rest of the world. I don’t love the superiority and the arrogance of many evangelicals. I don’t love the way American Christianity in the 21st century is much more “American” than it is “Christian.”

So I’m asking forgiveness — in advance — for these three rants, while still maintaining that they’re important issues that need to be dealt with if we’re to be Christ’s hands and feet in the world.

Renaissance Man?

A friend of mine said yesterday, when I was playing a song I’d written, “You’re a Renaissance man!”

I was taken aback and a little shocked… mostly because I perceived this as a very nice compliment. I said, “What do you mean?”

I don’t remember all the logic (and it seems a bit self-aggrandizing to try and repeat it) but it was along the lines of: You’re a musician (I laugh at the notion)… You write well… You speak well in public… You’re a thinker… You work in technology… And you write songs.

Secretly, inwardly, I was really pleased. I can think of nothing better than engaging in many different disciplines and of then finding ways they can flow together, influence and improve one another. I tried to brush it off, but I was really pleased at the thought. Especially since the song of mine we were trying to record isn’t really all that great of a song.

Later though, I became very disappointed. Even discouraged. I’m still struggling with those feelings, 24 hours later. Why?

I really appreciate the compliment, regardless of how it was meant. But when push comes to shove, the world no longer likes or appreciates Renaissance men. What the world really likes, it seems to me, is people who fit categories. Are you a writer? Here, please do writerly things for us. Are you a musician? Please join our marching band. Are you a speaker? Please preach for us.

I have some great friends who are psychologists, so I ask their forgiveness in advance for some blanket statements that are to follow…

Psychologists LOVE to categorize, it seems to me. Myers-Briggs… Jungian typology… ENFp and ISTp… I know this to be an unfair assumption even as I type it, but it seems the thought is, “If I can accurately ‘type’ this person I can apply template-ized treatment instead of doing extensive analysis…what a time-saver!”

(I apologize in advance to every psychologist on the planet I just offended – especially the ones who are my good friends.)

Business is even worse. You can write engaging and compelling copy AND do product management for technology products AND do business strategy AND deliver thoughtful presentations? We don’t know what to do with you.”

That’s enough. I’m clearly slipping into whiny mode.

Another instance: I really want to be actively involved in several groups at church – worship ministry, communications, our Mhlosheni / World Vision global outreach. But Sunday is the day all the activities happen, so the normal constraints of available time dictate that I pretty much have to pick one, commit to it semi-exclusively , and forego deep involvement in the others.

That disappoints me. Not anybody’s fault, and pretty much just the way the world works. Things happen fast, time is precious, and it’s not anyone’s job to accommodate people that have multiple interests – they have, after all, their own agendas and timetables to worry about.

Still, it saddens me. We’re shortchanging ourselves.

Alright

I’ve been away from this blog for a while, but I’ve decided I need a place to capture some random but potentially valuable thoughts.

The video above is one I made when we discovered that my wife Joie is in the early stages of breast cancer. Here’s the description:

On August 6, while I was in London 8000 miles from home, my wife Joie got her biopsy results. She has breast cancer. I sat in front of a breezy wet open window all night and the only song going through my head was this one, by Tree63. On the way home I started this video, and when I got home my kids helped me finish it. It’s our promise and our prayer.

Every time I watch this video I get just a bit teary-eyed. Oddly enough, the tears aren’t from sadness or fear. They well up from some abundant, outrageous, previously unknown but newfound sense of trust. Trust in God’s earnest desire to walk this walk with us. Trust that we’ve been equipped — in our friends and our family — with people who will stay beside us through this new and unexpected journey. Trust that we’re strong enough as a family to pick each other up when we’re feeling sad or hopeless. Trust enough — finally — to rejoice in every noisy, cantankerous, hurt, joyous curve in the road that is our family.

I love this video. I want to begin every day watching this video. I want it to remind myself that there’s no tragedy, stumbling, sickness, or failure from which God can’t make something beautiful.