Just a Few Questions

I eat too much Taco Bell.

I doubt that's a huge surprise to most of you. Anybody can take a look at me - even just a passing glance, really - and it's not gonna be that much of a stretch to get to "This dude eats too many things that are mostly comprised of meat and cheese."

But the thing about me eating too much Taco Bell is that I actually eat less of too much than I used to. I used to eat way too much. Now... yeah, it's still too much, but it's less than it was. My run for the border occurs a little less frequently than it used to, I don't order an entire side of the menu when I go, and I've pretty much abandoned trying to actually live up to the idea of "Fourthmeal," even with that being as pleasant of a challenge as it was.

Now, the goal here is obviously to get to a point where I don't eat "too much" Taco Bell, but in fact eat the right amount of Taco Bell. (I fully realize that there are some in our world who would suggest that the "right" amount of Taco Bell is no Taco Bell at all, but I don't care about those folks' opinions, because they're also the kind of people who insist that a half-cup of ice cream is a "serving," and we all know that's patently ridiculous...)

I'm not at the goal... And it's arguable that I'm not really even all that close to the goal just yet... But I'm definitely closer than I was... So is that progress?

More than that being progress... is that good?

I know that it is not good in and of itself that I still eat too much Taco Bell. That's bad. I know that.

But is it good that I eat less of too much? Or is it still just hopelessly awful all the way up until I'm only ordering a single "Fresco" burrito once every three months? (This will never happen.)

_______________________________________________

My buddy Will and I went into Dickson the other night to see a movie. Once it was over, we got to doing what we do best - cruising around aimlessly, listening to music and shooting the breeze.

Will was driving, and our wanderings took us fairly deep into what was unfamiliar territory for him: the vast untamed wilds of Dickson County, including but not limited to the sprawling metropolises of Vanleer, Slayden, and Tennessee City.

So once we'd decided that it was time to turn back towards home, Will didn't really know where we were. And it's not like I'm super familiar with Vanleer or anything, but I at least knew how to get back to the house, and gave directions along the way. After a while, though, we came back into a part of Dickson where I thought Will would be able to recognize where we were. We came to a red light and Will asked me which way we should go.

"Dude, don't you know where we are yet?"

Will replied with a tone of humble resignation. "No, man... Not at all."

I pointed out the window. "The high school's right there."

"Oh! Oh, yeah, yeah... OK. I got it now. Awesome."

And then we drove home. End of story. Yaaaaaaaaaaay.

But what I wanna know is this: is it entirely necessary when giving directions to spell out every step that's going to be taken on the drive, or is it good enough to just point out familiar landmarks and let the driver take it from there?

Will didn't know where we were for a good bit of that drive. He had vague ideas of how to get back home - if you're in Dickson County and trying to head to Hickman County, at some point South has got to happen. I gave directions when they were necessary, but for the most part, I let Will do the driving on his own. After all, he was the one driving. I was controlling the iPod, and that's a job that takes some serious concentration.

So did that make me a bad navigator? Or can my success be judged by the fact that we actually got home?

_______________________________________________

When the discussion comes around to which actor had the best portrayal of James Bond, the answer is Sean Connery.

This is not a matter of opinion, it is simply how it is.

Sure, you may prefer Pierce Brosnan or Daniel Craig... Or if you're some kind of weirdo, Roger Moore... (I don't think there's really anybody out there who would pick George Lazenby or Timothy Dalton, but if you happen to be reading this, congratulations, you're a statistical singularity.)

But it doesn't matter what you prefer: Sean Connery is the right answer.

James Bond creator Ian Fleming was not originally sold on Connery as Bond. Roger Moore had actually been considered during production of Dr. No, but was rejected as being too young. Moore later went on to become the oldest actor to portray Bond (58), even beating out David Niven (57) as Bond in the spoof version of Casino Royale. (Niven had in fact been Fleming's first choice to portray Bond in the "official" EON production series.)

After the release of Dr. No, however, Fleming changed his mind about Sean Connery. In fact, he changed his mind so much that he changed James Bond. In On Her Majesty's Secret Service, the first novel written after the Dr. No movie, Fleming provides details about Bond's lineage, stating that his father was Scottish, which was a change from the earlier novels which provided an Irish upbringing for Bond.

So, yeah. Sean Connery was so good at being James Bond that the creator of James Bond changed James Bond to be more like Sean Connery.

But what about when I do have those discussions with those seldom people who - for some reason - prefer another actor over Connery, what can I say? Yeah, they're entitled to their opinions... but their opinion is objectively not right.

So when are we allowed to say, "You're wrong"? When can we actually bust that out? It seems to me that "You're wrong" is just about the ultimate taboo phrase in today's world. People will insist that there's really no right or wrong, it's all just whatever you believe that works for you.

I dunno about that. You can believe that 2+2=5 all you want. I can't stop you there... but is it part of my responsibility to tell you the actual truth?

_______________________________________________

Consider a man whose entire adult life has been in pursuit of satiating the carnal desires of the flesh. When he meets a woman he likes, he uses all of his considerable charm to land her in his bed. Maybe it's only once, maybe it's several times, but either way, it's sex. That's how this guy operates: he has sex with women. It's his deal.

Now let's say that this man encounters Christ in a way that he never has before and finally begins to understand the point of Christianity. He decides to at least attend services regularly, and is becoming genuinely interested in the message behind each sermon.

As he continues to get churched up, he reconsiders his approach to women and decides that maybe - just maybe - his incessant fornication is not the best choice he could be making. Does he still pick up the occasional girl? Sure does. Is he moving towards monogamous relationships? Yeah, seems like it.

Is his view on sex all the way up to good yet? From a Christian standard, of course not.

But... is it better?

In one's pursuit of holiness, there should never be any mistaking "less bad" for "good," but all the same, "less bad" actually is less bad, and that's a lot to be considered, especially when thinking about those who are considering Christianity.

And with those same folks considering Christianity, do we really have to give them the instructions on how to get all the way home when they're still a long ways out?

From what I've seen, there's this kind of drive in evangelistic or missionary outreaches to get people to commit to Christ immediately, just in case God shows up in the next twenty minutes. As soon as the conversation turns to God, there's a loaded Bible pointed at your head and somebody's hunting down a swimming pool to use as a baptismal immediately if not sooner.

What happened to taking our time? What happened to actually counting the cost? Too many of today's Christians became Christians when they were too young to actually understand what they were getting themselves into. Too many of today's former Christians were the ones who became Christians at a time when their ideas of how people function in the world were still being shaped, and the shortcomings of the Christians around them turned them off to the faith that they had so recently proclaimed.

Is it entirely necessary to make every single attempt of spreading the Gospel a conversion experience? Is planting a seed not good enough anymore? Is there a reason we act like we have to clear the land and replant an entire tree now, all in one move?

And what about the other people sitting around the churches who are imposing impossible moral standards on these new converts? What about the people who are uncomfortable letting the guy in the less-nice clothes with the tattoos on his neck into church because he looks like a sinner? When can we say, "HEY! YOU'RE WRONG!" to those folks?

I know that it's pretty much the worst thing in the world to tell someone, "I'm being a better Christian than you," but sometimes I think I'd be willing to cross that line if I thought it would do any good.

We've come to a point where, like the Pharisees, we expect people to live up to our moral codes and meet our standards for righteousness - a moral code and righteousness defined in most cases by a lifetime of growing up in a church. What about a guy who grew up in the most evil, hate-filled, miserable pit of suffering on this Earth? Should we expect him to immediately conform to our standards of morality? Does God expect that?

Or should we be looking for improvement?

Don't get me wrong... Sin is sin is sin, all the way through. One sin is just as damning as one thousand sins. But in a pursuit of perfection, managing to go from one thousand sins to one sin is pretty commendable. Is it perfection? No. Is it better? Well... I think so.

We've come to a point where, like the Pharisees, we smack people right on the nose with the full out strength of the Gospel as soon as they show the slightest interest in knowing anything about God, and we hold a spiritual gun to their heads, telling them they've got to become Christians NOW because they might die AT ANY SECOND and if they died on the way to be baptized then they'd still go to hell because God is super scary and doesn't actually like any of us. Fear is an awesome motivator for a religion based on love, don't you think?

Shouldn't we maybe just be content to plant the seeds? I have atheist friends. It is kind of silly for me to try to convince them that they should give their lives up to Christ when they don't believe that God even exists in the first place. So maybe there's gotta be some groundwork done. Maybe there needs to be some foundation laid before we can get to Jesus. Maybe we're trying to shove a pre-packaged form of Christian outreach down people's throats so we can tick off "Spreading the Gospel" on our How-To list for going to Heaven.

And maybe that's wrong.

Maybe we've lost sight of the fact that our journey to God is a... uhh... you know... journey. Jesus refers to the straight and narrow path, not the straight and narrow landing platform. The entire point of this whole thing is that we all grow closer to God. If somebody goes from very, very, very far away from God to just far away from God, I think that's a step in the right direction, don't you?

A Simple Prayer

Dear God, Merciful Father, Heavenly King, Lord and Creator of All...

Forgive us.

Forgive us, God, for messing it up.

I don't know where we went wrong, I don't know when, and I don't know how, but I look around and I see what Christianity has become today and I can't help but think that we're not doing it quite the way You planned.

We've come to a point where You are not the foundation of our lives... You're more like the spackle, filling in the cracks that bother us enough to do something about.

We've come to a point where we've decided that the way we're supposed to Love others is by making sure we tell them they're wrong before anything else.

We've come to a point where we don't ask You what we should do, but instead we ask You to bless what we've decided we're doing anyway.

It's almost like we don't even think You're actually there anymore.

It's almost like we're following You just to be on the safe side.

It's almost like we've let Christianity become an abstract idea to be argued and debated instead of lived out in a very self-sacrificing, very loving, very real way.

It's almost like we've started using You and Your Son as an excuse to be indignant towards The World, trying to force it to conform to our sensibilities and morals so we don't have to struggle with the temptations it provides, instead of us being the ones who show The World what it's like when You are actively involved in the lives of the people who have chosen to follow you.

God... Help us.

Help us see each other as equals in Your sight - all equally sinful on our own, and all equally worthy of Your Love.

Help us see past the divisions that we've set up for ourselves - divisions of denomination, of politics, of economics - and unite in Love.

Help us see the Truth that You laid out for us - that You Love us, and that our one task in this world is to Love You.

Dear God, I look around me and I see the world hurting and I see the church failing in its task to show the world Your presence in Love.

I see cities with more churches than gas stations, but the cities are still overrun with people without homes, without clothes, without food, without hope... and I can't help but think that something is wrong.

I see churches fall apart from the inside out because of power struggles and stubbornness and selfishness... and I can't help but think that something is wrong.

I see people on TV assuring me that if I'll just put my trust in You, You'll make me rich and comfortable in this world... Or, even worse, I see people buy into that idea... and I can't help but think that something is wrong.

We complain about the state of the world and we pray for You to be swift in Your judgment of it... but we're not taking the time out of our day to clean the place up before You get here.

We come together in our churches and huddle together to remind each other of how bad it is out there... and then we go home to watch the game, never thinking that maybe it's gotten so bad out there because we've dropped the ball.

We tell each other to trust in You... but we won't trust You enough to take the small steps outside of our comfort zone to interact with The World that is so desperately in need of Your Love, the Love that is our one single task in this world to show.

God...

I don't know how you do it. I look around and my heart breaks, and I know that I'm every bit as much a part of the problem as anyone else.

I can't even imagine what it's like for You.

I can't even imagine how much it hurts You to see Your children - Your CHURCH - sitting on the sidelines, turning a blind eye to the suffering all around us, ignoring the constant plea for help coming from every street corner on the planet.

I can't even imagine what it would look like if we actually decided to do what You asked us to do by Loving others the same way that You Love us.

God... I still believe in You. I still believe in Your power. I still believe in Your presence. I still believe in Your Word, Your Spirit, and Your Love for me and all of mankind.

Help me show the world what You mean to me.

Help me show the church what You mean to me.

Help me show my friends and family what You mean to me.

Help me be the man that You want me to be.

Help us all be the church that You want us to be.

Help Christianity be what You set out for it to be - Love, changing the world.

Father... On my own, I'm tired, I'm scared, I'm lonely, and I'm weak.

But with You... I can climb the highest mountain, I can face the fiercest lion, I am surrounded by Your presence, and I am filled with Your might.

God, please... Show them. Show them all. Show them Your Face. Show them Your Hand. Show them Your Love.

I need You, God. I need You more than I need air, water, food... even my life. I need You.

I want to be Your instrument in this world. I want to be a herald of Your Kingdom. I want to be a servant at Your table. I want to be Your worker.

Please, Father... Show me how to be the man You made me to be.

Show the church how to be the church You designed it to be.

Show us all how to live our lives centered on the Love that You first showed us, the Love that created us, the Love that spared us, the Love that redeemed us.

And please, God... Please... Forgive us.

In Christ's Holy and Wonderful Name,

Amen

I Love You

Hey.

I love you.

I have something I really want to get off my chest, OK?

I love you.

I know it may sound all melodramatic, but I honestly mean it. I'm not throwing it around loosely, I'm not "just saying it," and I'm not trying to say it to elicit some response from you, I'm just telling you a thing that is, much in the same way that I would tell you "It is raining," or perhaps, "There are Oreos in the kitchen," or even, "There were Oreos in the kitchen."

I love you.

I know some people are weird about saying that, hearing that, showing that, feeling that... I know. And if you're one of those people who has a hard time being on the receiving end of those particularly dangerous 8 letters, two spaces and one period, then I sincerely apologize for any discomfort I may have caused, it was certainly not my intent. After all...

I love you.

And it is in fact because I love you that I want to talk to you. I ain't gonna lie to you, yes, I want to talk about God. But what I really want is to talk to YOU... about God.

I love you.

I want to know you. I want to share in your joys and your sorrows. I want to know your victories and your defeats. I want to know what it is in your life that makes you smile so big your cheeks and ears get real well acquainted, but I also want to know what you're seeing in your life that breaks your heart just a little more each day.

I love you.

I was always told in my English classes that, in writing, one is never to call attention to the act itself of reading, or to make the reader aware that he or she is reading, or whatever it was. I didn't really pay attention anyway because I think the rule is, frankly, stupid. I know that it's meant to keep things sounding professional or maintaining an academic distance or some junk like that, but I don't write things just so they'll be written down, I write things so they will be read. Sometimes I'm the only guy who ever reads it. Sometimes I only read it when I write it and then never see it again because somebody else reads it before setting it on fire in a fitful rage along with what I'm pretty sure was my copy of Wolverine #36. But the point is, no matter what I write, I write it because I want somebody to read it. Right now, the person I want to be reading what I'm writing is you, the person with the eyes passing over these words right now. I really want you to understand something.

I love you.

And here's the thing... I know who you are. Obviously, I can't write your name right here, but I do know who you are. Call it my mutant power if you must, but I've got this sort of psychic connection to my blog posts. I can always tell if somebody is reading this. Don't believe me? Call me up, right now, and ask me just how I could possibly know you're reading this. The answer will surprise you, but there's a reason it works:

I love you.

I can't stress enough how important it is that you know that I love you. I want you to know that I love you - that I genuinely love you - enough that I want to go out of my way to make your life better. I want to sacrifice my time, my money, my life for you to help you out. If I can simply make your day better... I want to. I want to do everything that I actually can to help you out in as many ways as I am possibly able.

I love you.

I know that there are people out there who would (and can and do and will) abuse that, but I seem to remember something about Jesus saying that if someone asks for our cloak, we give them our tunic. Or if someone asks us to go one mile, we go the second. Or if someone hits us, we turn the other cheek. I know that's a really hard concept to get since we don't wear cloaks or tunics, we don't have a lot of people coming up and asking us to go one mile, and we don't really spend a lot of time turning our cheeks, but what I think He was saying is that if we love people, we'll let them take up some of our time, or we'll let them inconvenience us, or we'll even let them do us flat out wrong. It's a hard lesson to learn, yeah, but it's an important one.

I love you.

I also think it's one we've kinda missed out on.

I love you.

I think something happened somewhere along the way in the history of Christianity where we decided that it was OK to love everybody we could so long as it was easy to love them.

I love you.

We decided that it was OK if we kept our love for our fellow man in tidy little envelopes that went to people a continent away.

I love you.

When I was in Dallas a month or so back, I was riding around with Corwin and his wife on our way to Plano for dinner with friends. I don't really know much about big city Texas geography, so I don't have any idea what road it was, but it came time for us to exit onto some road off of some road, and that's where the traffic slowed to a crawl. As we went up the ramp - which was a pretty steep up at a pretty sharp right - we saw the problem: two girls were in a car that had broken down just about in the middle of the lane.

I love you.

The traffic was not just slow, it was thick and only getting thicker. This particular exit came right after the on-ramp from another two busy roads, and this exit itself was a fairly popular one. These girls had apparently been here for at least a few minutes, and even in the minute or so that it took for us to get to them, there had been easily dozens of people to drive around these girls.

I love you.

Once we got around and pulled over well out of traffic, Corwin and I got out of the car and helped push these girls further to the shoulder so they'd at least be out of traffic. Whatever the problem was with their car, it was beyond mine and Corwin's capacity to fix, or even to diagnose. (Not that my "car smarts" is anything to brag about... If it gets much more complicated than a stuck seatbelt or a kinda smudgy windshield, I don't know.)

I love you.

We didn't do it for the girls' thanks, and we didn't really do it to help free up traffic. We did it for those two girls. They were having a pretty rough time there. We wanted to help, just because it's the right thing to do. Because it's love.

I love you.

But the real question isn't why Corwin and I decided to stop and help two girls on the side of the road in the middle of the labyrinthian concrete of the Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex interstate system, it's why we were the ones who had to decide.

I love you.

These girls had been stuck in that exit ramp long enough that traffic behind them for at least a full mile in more than one direction had slowed down considerably. It wasn't quite to a halt or anything, but 20 on the interstate is slow no matter where you are, and in Dallas, anything under 55 MPH is a house.

I love you.

Surely there had been at least one other Christian to pass those girls. Surely Corwin and I were not the first two guys big enough to get that job done. They were driving a Corolla, not a Sherman tank. Corwin and I were glad to serve, even if for no other reason than the simple fact that God pretty specifically says "If you do nice things for strangers, if you help out people who could really use some help, I'll let you go to Heaven forever." But we were both just dumbfounded by how many people had gone by these girls and yet did nothing more than slow down long enough to avoid exchanging insurance information with anybody.

I love you.

And you know, it's not even just that our interactions with complete strangers have deteriorated to the point that people will allow someone to literally be stuck on the side of the road when it would take the briefest of interruptions to their day that has me the most grieved. It's that we're to the point where we do that in our churches, too.

I love you.

I'm not saying that there isn't any love in our churches these days, because there certainly is. But when one of the ten largest churches of Christ in the world is in the same county as one of the most crystal-meth addled populations in the world, something is wrong.

I love you.

If we're really doing what we were called to do, wouldn't we be making SOME difference in people's lives? The early church sold all of their possessions to support each other in the name of their Christ-centered love for each other. Do we even really talk to people in our churches anymore? Do we really connect to the people in the pew in front of us, or across the aisle, or way back in the back? As quickly as people will point fingers of blame and pronounce scriptures of shame on other churches, have we ever really considered that maybe the problem is just us?

I love you.

Maybe we're the reason the world is so messed up these days. Maybe we gave up. Maybe we decided that the world wasn't worth saving, that the church wasn't worth loving, that the people we encounter every day in our lives outside of the sanctity of our homes weren't worth reaching out to in simple truth and love.

I love you.

I don't know how much more clear it can be than this: the entire point - for all the theology and doctrine and dogma - of Christianity is simply that we Love God and Love Others. That's it.

I love you.

And I don't want to say that all I see is failure, because that's certainly not the case. Love is everywhere. But it's not really in the churches the way I would like to see it.

I love you.

I want to see a church that is centered around love to the point that each member is willing to break down that barrier of personal secrecy and allow someone else into their lives. I want to see a church that is filled with people who know each other well enough to instinctively know when something's wrong. I want to see a church filled with people who are ALL close to the preacher, who are ALL intimately connected with the church leadership, who are ALL indispensable members of the body of Christ.

I love you.

I guess what I really just want to see is a return to a church - like the church of the first century, the church of the apostles, the church of the New Testament - that is completely focused on love for others to the point that people are willing to die for the simple truth of God's Love for us. I want to see a church that doesn't just keep telling the world over and over and over that God loves them, or even that we love them, but instead gets out there and SHOWS IT by DOING IT. I want to see a church that loves the world around it and shows them the meaning of the Truth - God's Truth - that we are not perfect people, but we are people who follow a perfect God, who perfectly loves us, and wants us to show everyone around us that we love them in the same way, for the same reason, that He loves us in the first place.

I love you.

Let's get past just telling the world we love them. Let's get past just telling the church that we love them. Let's actually sit down with people and encounter them where they live, where they work, where they play, where they exist, and get to know them on a level that might be a little uncomfortable, might be a little inconvenient, might be a little expensive, might be even a little scary... but it's right. It's love. It's what we're supposed to do. More than just saying it, we have to get out there and really become a part of people's lives on the level that lets them see that we are just as human as they are. That's they only way we can ever come close to fulfilling the mission of Christ in this world. It's the one job we've got. So let's get on it, huh?

I love you.

Really.

I'm Sorry for Sounding Arrogant (but I'm going to anyway)

"We have a right to believe whatever we want, but not everything we believe is right." - Ravi Zacharias

So I have two stories to tell you. I'll start off with the one that I have been told makes me look like a jerk.

A few years back, when I was still living in the dorms at Harding, the video game X-Men Legends came out. Several of my friends had picked up a copy, and they all thought it was pretty righteous.

I'm not too much of a gamer, really. Don't get me wrong, there are a few that I enjoy thoroughly (StarCraft II is definitely addictive, and the Half-Life series is untouchable in awesome points), but it's not what I do. And at that point in my life, comics definitely where what I did. Seeing how the game was all about the X-Men and their villains, one of my friends asked for my opinion. I told him what I thought - it's easy enough to play and it's got a lot of neat little nods to the serious comic book fans without being inaccessible to regular gamers, but I'm not too crazy about some of the costume choices.

Having heard my answer, he agreed, and then came back with his reply: "I like it, but I just can't believe they've got the White Queen as one of the X-Men. How could they mess that up? She's a villain."

I have to defend myself a little bit here and say that this happened 6 years ago, and while I may not yet have mastered the art of tactful conversation, I was definitely still a novice then, so believe me, I know I sound like a jerk, but... bear with me.

"No, no, she's... yeah, no, she's a good guy now. She's the headmistress of the X-Men." (At least, that was true in 2004 - like I said last week, I'm a little behind on the comics these days.)

And then came his reply. And the thing is, I get it... but really, dude... everybody knows that Aaron J. Rushton is the super-duper comic book nerd, so why you even gonna do a thang?

"No," he insisted, "she's always been a bad guy. I've got the comic." It was with this cue that he pointed to the lone comic in his room.

The comic in question - a collected edition of Chris Claremont and John Byrne's seminal Uncanny X-Men storyline "The Dark Phoenix Saga" - definitely did contain a depiction of the White Queen as a villain, which she definitely was at the time. But the time was 1980, and since about 1994, she's been on the "good" side.

"Right, I understand that you have a comic from over 20 years ago in which she is a villain, but I have a comic from about 20 days ago in which she is a hero. She is a hero now."

But apparently that was arrogant of me to say. Somehow. I will grant that it is arrogant with the caveat that I don't really understand how, especially since I was right. And it's not even that I'm just right by default, it's that I have the stuff to back it up. Like, you know, reality... in a comic book... versus a video game...

OK, that one's getting embarrassing. Let's move on to the next story, which - I hope - doesn't make me look quite so bad...

When I was interning as a youth minister down in Alabama in the summer of 2009, there came a weekend in which I had some car trouble and the folks I was living with were going to be out of town, so I needed a ride to church come Sunday morning. It just so happened that a specific member of the church lived in the right part of town to pick me up on his way.

Once he picked me up, we pulled out of the driveway and he asked, "Which way do you go to get to the church?" I gave him my answer: "Left at the stop sign, up to 31-"

That's when I was interrupted with, "No, that won't work."

Wait, what? "How does that not work?"

"That takes you up to I-20. That's going the wrong way. We need to get on 459."

"No, I... yeah, I know it goes to I-20. That's the point. I-20 out to... ummm... you know... the church. It's like a mile before 20 and 459 intersect."

"No, that won't get us there."

"That's how I get to the church 9 times a week, man."

Now, while we were having this conversation, this dude was trying to navigate his way from my host family's home to the church. He asked me how to get there, I told him, and he said no. So now we're lost in Vestavia Hills, turning corners into dead-end drives and gated communities. This is when he decided to bust out the dash-mounted GPS.

Let me tell you, I am a great big believer in GPS navigation systems. Yes to those. Very yes. I could not have survived my summer in Birmingham without the GPS navigator in my phone. So I'm fully on board with the GPS-is-awesome idea. But I also know that it's still just technology, and all technology - just like the people who design and use it - is bound to fail at one point or another.

Apparently this was one point or another because this guy's GPS was just not hacking it. Every road we went down was supposed to be the one that led us to the interstate (the other one, not the one I was trying to get us on), but each one turned into a cul-de-sac, a golf course, a confused pack of dogs that had been following us through suburban Birmingham for the last 8 miles...

So that's when I grabbed my phone, punched in the church's address and boom, there it was, a list of neat and orderly directions for how to get to the church from where we were. (Included in the steps were directions to get on 31 and follow through to I-20, just FYI.)

I do not understand all of what it is to be arrogant, even though that is one of the most consistent things that I struggle with (as well as being one of the most consistent things that people feel like reminding me I need to work on, thank you so very much).

Was the White Queen a villain at one point? Yeah, definitely. But... I was still right. Not because I made the rules, but because things had changed and this guy didn't know about it.

Was getting to the church via I-20 the quickest way to get there? No, actually - it was about 2 miles and 3 minutes longer than shuffling on down to I-459, but it was easier for me to remember, so it became my default way to get to the church. It got me there, didn't it? So how - before even knowing where the rest of the directions went - could this guy tell me it was wrong? It worked, right?

Lately I've been really wrestling with the idea of arrogance, particularly my own. I've got no doubt at all that I am one arrogant cuss at times. I understand, fully, that pride is pretty much the worst thing. In fact, I firmly believe that all sin - all sin - is merely an extension of our own pride. We think - even if it is temporarily - that our will is more important than God's, so we act on our will instead of His. That's arrogance.

But is believing that I'm right arrogant?

Especially when it's not that I'm right because hey, after all, it's me... But because... well... ummm... because I'm right.

I must also admit here that I struggle with the concept of my "self-righteousness." I know it's very closely linked to my arrogance, but there's something specific about being labeled "self-righteous" that really irks me, and that is this: my righteousness has nothing to do with my self. It's not at all about me being righteous, it's about God's righteousness living in me, being shown through me, reaching the world despite me...

See, I don't have any of the answers on my own. I am straight up copying someone else on this test, because I know that I will fail it unless I get the right answers from someone else. (The someone else in this metaphor is Jesus.)

Now, do I know how to copy Jesus perfectly? No. Goodness, no. Am I trying my best? Definitely. Does that mean I'm right? Well... there's a reason people like to sit next to the smart kid in class. If you're trying to be right, it helps to copy the right answers.

And I say all of that to get to this.

Last week, I got a comment on the Owning Up to Myself post that I think is worth sharing.

Christopher Dos Santos said...

Okay here we go...

I normally would not reach out to one who is so religious. However your prime focus is the dedication to truth with a capital T. So here goes let us see if your mind is open.

You and your followers believe God created the universe. You see God as separate from yourself in judgment of your actions. of course the actual weighing is to be done by Saint Peter. This aside you believe in heaven and hell accepting your savior Lord Jesus Christ to bestow his benevolence upon your soul.

I do not believe in a God who created the universe. Instead I choose to believe in a God who became the universe. The distinction is significant as I do not worship God, saints, Jesus or anything. Instead I understand that I AM GOD, as are you. Jesus, in speaking with his disciples taught us that he, like us, are the divine essence of the ONE GOD.
Furthermore there is nothing in manifest reality which is NOT GOD. The tree, the planet, the universe, the dog, all IS GOD. Seeing the world through the lens of false ego we tend to believe we are the body. We are not the body, in fact the body only exists as a illusion. The reality we perceive as real is in fact much more akin to a fractal matrix of energy. We are consciousness, our being is eternal. We perceive time to exist therefore we are under the illusion of death. Death is not real, you will never die my brother because you were never born. You are GODSELF consciousness existing eternally in the moment of NOW.

My brother Aaron and followers, an open mind is like and open door it is very inviting. If you or your followers desire to debate religion, philosophy, science, health, reality, illusion or my favorite topic UNCONDITIONAL LOVE AND ONENESS then I am at your disposal.

www.godlymanifestation.blogspot.com

Namaste, my brethren, from a book of fear Jesus teaches unconditional love....

That was on the 1st of October. Yesterday, I got another comment:

Christopher Dos Santos said...

Truth with a capital T. No rebuttal, no discourse! Could it be truth with a sub case t? Or possibly only the truths you agree with? Open minds and open hearts working together. Jesus tells us
" Let only those with ears hear. "

In Lak' esh, my brother, with love

So, Christopher, if you're reading... This is for you, brother.

I am, as you said, interested in "truth with a capital T."

And while I appreciate your offer, I'm gonna stick with my Truth over here. In fact, I would encourage you to reconsider this Truth, as I happen to believe it to be the only one that actually deserves the capital-T treatment.

The Truth as I see it is that there is only one God. There is only one way to God, and that is through Jesus, the Messiah foretold to the Hebrews even from the time of Abraham.

Do I have a portion of God dwelling inside me? Oh, certainly, I believe I do. The Holy Spirit is a miraculous gift that guides me through the dark spots and helps me share the bright ones, and I believe it to be the Spirit of God Himself blessing me with His presence, His wisdom, His understanding, His peace... Yeah. I've got God inside.... But it's not because of who I am, it's because of who the I AM is.

I visited your website, Christopher, and I even read through to your first post, and... dude... I...

No. Just no, man.

Just no.

From that first post:

1. I AM GOD, everything is God, God is love. There is nothing else. 2. You will never die, time is only an illusion. 3. Past and future are functions of the ego, there is only the NOW. 4. All expressions are love; murder, rape, war, genocide, feeding the poor, comforting a friend, saving someone in peril, dancing under the stars, there is only love. 5. To value one expression as better or worse than another is to allow the ego to separate you from your true self as God. You are your brother's keeper because you are your brother. 6. We are not here to chase riches, wealth is found in sharing our essence, sharing love. 7. Fear is the grandest of illusions the ego will use to keep you captive and separate from oneness. All is God so what could there possibly be for you to fear? 8. Want and need are illusions, the ego wishes for us to express our reality in a dream world thus creating distractions to godliness. We are God, God is everything so what could we possibly need? 9. Judgement, anger, hate, are expressions of the ego used to again separate us from the reality of our Godliness. Would you be angry with your nose because it was dirty, would you yell at your nose or cut it off because it had a freckle, all is God so why should we want to kill or hate our brother? 10. Very soon, in our lifetime, there will be a revolution of love, we will unite as one. Money, possessions, jobs, all the trappings of the ego will dissolve exposing a new Eden on earth. No want, no need, no hate, no prisons, no laws or police, no government nor borders JUST GOD. JUST LOVE. I understand these truths, but still I am trapped by the ego, I gently remind myself all day everyday that I am God. I make mistakes, treat people bad, hate some and fear others.

So "all expressions" - including murder, rape, and genocide - are love (point 3), and to value one "expression" over another - say, comforting a friend over war - is valuing ego over the one true God (point 5), but judgment, anger and hate are bad (point 9) in the same way that thinking that genocide isn't exactly loving?

Or what about this, from your post Rape and murder....of the ego?

If you perceive rape and murder to be bad or evil acts then I maintain that you are not succeeding in the quest to understand reality of being.

I would instead put forth the idea that if you don't perceive rape and murder to be bad or evil, then you are not succeeding in the quest to understand basic love at all. Is murder love? Is rape love?

Or what about this one?

All moments of the NOW are Godly moments, fear and hate are merely aspects of the one, which is love.

So fear and hate are really just parts of love? Really? Love, the Divine action of seeking the good of others above the good of yourself, contains within itself fear and hatred?

But where I really have to disagree with you, and the final point I'm going to bring up from your blog, is this:

Jesus, Mohammad, Buddha or any sage would teach you that all that is perceived is an expression of one, call it God, or love if you prefer.

That's just straight up wrong, brother.

I will confess ignorance when it comes to the teachings of the Buddha, and I'm not quite up to snuff on the teachings of Mohammed, either. But Jesus... Yeah, I know Jesus. And Jesus definitely did not teach that "all that is perceived is an expression of one," whether you call it God or not.

Jesus taught that He was God made flesh, that He was the right hand of the Eternal, that He was the only one - the only one - that fully realized and actualized what it means to be fully human and simultaneously fully Deity.

Make no mistake, Jesus is very clear - He's God. We're not.

And that is why I believe in Jesus Christ. I can trust a God who tells me exactly what I am - a screw-up. I can trust a God who shows me what Love actually is - others before myself. I can trust a God who understands that my failures are inevitable, Loves me through them anyway, provides me a chance to know and seek Him, and helps me be less like me and more like Him - perfect.

I don't just believe it because I read a book that said it. I don't just believe it because I was brought up in a family that talked about it. I believe it because it's real. I believe it because my life is radically different as a direct result of my decision to place ALL of my life's direction in the hands of my Creator. And why shouldn't I? I am, after all, the creation.

Look... I don't want to sound like I think I have all the answers. I don't.

And you'd have to look pretty far and wide to find people who agree more with the idea that "what's right for you may not be right for me" and vice versa. If you've been paying attention, you know that I've written about that very idea a few times.

But man... Some things are just real.

Love is real.

Evil is real.

God is real.

And our choice - our very real choice - to accept Him or deny Him has very real consequences for this life as well as the next.

I'm sorry if that seems arrogant, but how can I tell you any different? I am not telling you something that I came up with, I am not telling you something that I feel, I am not telling you something that I think works for me but might not work for everybody.

I am telling you the Truth. Capital T and all.