I read this before going to a march this past saturday.  The march was to speak out against the horrible violence going on in the middle-east between Israel and Palestine, specifically to protest the gross bombings that Israel is undertaking, and the US support of them.  According to a USAToday article I just checked, which was supposedly posted an hour ago, "Medical officials said the Palestinian death toll in the offensive Israel began 17 days ago had risen past 900 and included at least 380 civilians. Israel says three Israeli civilians, hit by Hamas rockets, and 10 soldiers have died."  900 people!  That is too many for me.  According to this article, 13 Israelis have been killed by Hamas rockets.  I could go on about what's going on there, but I'd rather talk about what's going on here.  For info about the Palestine/Israel conflict, go here: http://www.ifamericansknew.org/

So saturday, I went down to the Loop with some friends of mine to protest this violence and the US support of it.  I read the chapter in Isaiah before going, and prayed.  To me, this was a very spiritual act.  It was heartbreaking to read Isaiah's words, knowing that Israel is now using much oppression and violence, and to know that so many Christians want to support the oppression and violence being perpetrated by the US and Israel (I understand fully that there are many worse governments than that of the US, but that doesn't absolve them).  Incdentally, the friends I went with were neither Arab, Jewish, or Christian.  But they were humans who will not be fooled that this disgusting violence is acceptable.

We ended up being late to the march.  But they were passing us as we got out of our cars, so we were able to join up pretty quickly.  We brought drums and a tambourine and banners, reading "St. Louis Economy is Bombing" (with the words Raytheon and Boeing written on two bombs) and "US Economy is Tanking" and "Support Resistance" with the image of a palestinian kid using a sling shot to fling a rock at a tank.

I was holding the "Support Resistance" banner, along with a girl named Ellen.  There were approximately 200-400 people (I'm horrible with estimating things)marching down the sidewalks of Delmar.  There were plenty of cops.  I'm guessing there were as many as 100 in the area, but maybe 40-50 out and about, in full riot armor, holding bats, with guns on their belts.  Some were holding mace sprayers.

But the march was good.  There were so many palestinian families there.  There was a mother with three of her daughters (one in a stroller) walking next to me for most of the march.  There were also many elderly people in the crowd, way more than I expected, especially because it was very cold that day.  Everyone was rather excited.  We were banging drums and chanting things like "We want Justice, We want Peace" (with an occasional "we want justice, not police" tossed in), "free gaza", "free palestine" (and even "free falastin", the palestinian word for the their own country), "stop the occupation now".

Did I mention is was really cold?

We turned down skinker, and as we did, Ellen said her hands were too cold to keep holding the banner, so I asked aloud if anyone wanted to help hold a banner.  A young palestinian girl, maybe 13, said "I will!", and so she did.  Eventually, we stopped outside a house to listen to some speakers.  At this point, my hands were too cold, and my friend Angela said she'd hold the banner, and the Palestinian girl's mom helped Angela hold it.  This was my favorite part of the march, because I really got to see the faces of the Palestinians, to see how excited they were to be out, voicing their disgust of the violence.  There were many flags and signs.  Whenever a car honked in support, cheers would erupt.  At one point, a group of Palestinian boys were taking turns running a Palestinian flag across Skinker.

After the speakers were finished, we made our way back up Skinker.  A lot of people were showing and voicing a desire to march in the street.  Now, I know this may sound pointless, but it's not.  I myself had very mixed views of the idea of taking to the streets before we went.  But when you're there, and you see the faces of these people, and you see the cops, with their weapons and armor, you get the feeling that they're letting you have you're little march.  That they, the ones with the force, are allowing you to excercise your right to speak out against violence, to gather together, to even walk on your sidewalks.  And it's hard to just watch all the cars buzz by, knowing they're heading to stores and restaurants, unaffected by the 900 dead.  So we went into the street, taking up a hardly used lane.  When we got back to Delmar, the cops starting letting us know that we shouldn't be in the street. We let them know that we didn't care (we were barely in the street, walking mostly in a turn lane and around parked cars).  I remember the look on one lady's face, in her SUV with her daughter.  She was very angry that we were blocking her way, violently gesturing toward the sidewalk.  Apparently, she was offended that she had to wait 5 minutes for all these mourning and celebrating free people to walk past her car.

The cops starting getting more adamant, and I simply said, "Walk around them." and so we did.  One of my friends attempted walking in the street, maybe a foot or two out from a parked car, and cops (bats in hand) pushed up against him.  He tried to continue, and they threw him to the ground.

At this point, an interesting thing happened.  In my mind, I saw myself diving on top of him.  Unfortunately, I thought too long.  Fortunately, they weren't beating him.  Michael and I ran up to the cops, who had already formed a line, holding their bats out to the crowd, and starting yelling at them to let him go.  I was very angry, which was odd, because I'm rarely angry, especially like that.  The crowd stopped, and we all started shouting "Let him go!!!"  After a few minutes, they released him.  One cop foolishly told my friend Michael to make sure everyone stayed on the sidewalk, and Michael rightly said "I can't promise that."

We continued down Delmar, meeting more and more cops as we went.  But spirits were up.  Since I was no longer carrying the banner, I had been banging on a small drum.  Which gets tiring.  But I found the drumming to be very important.  It makes us more visible, and encourages everyone to keep marching and keep chanting.

We made our way back to City Hall (which wasn't the smartest place, as it is right next to a jail).  While we were waiting for the crowd to cross the street, some friends and I, with drums and a bugle, waited in the street til everyone got across.  The cops kept telling us to get on the sidewalk, and we kept telling them we were waiting for everyone to get across.  Eventually, we packed the sidewalk, the steps, and the lawn, and were still occasionally pouring out onto the curb.  An 80-year-old lady spoke to the crowd, and after, we continued our drumming and chanting.  My friends Ryan and Amanda started dancing with each other on the curb.  The cops didn't like this very much.  They told them to get off the street (apparently, they were oblivious to the dozens of cops standing in the street blocking traffic.  Personally, I'd much rather be blocked by two young people dancing than by two dozen large men with bats and guns).  Now, the sidewalks were packed.  As Ryan and Amanda tried to dance back to the sidewalk, a cop threw Amanda down, and then threw Ryan down, one shoving his knee in the back of Ryan's head.  I was about 5 feet from them when this happened.  They were immediately surrounded by cops, again holding their bats to the crowd.  Michael and I again started screaming at the cops to let them go.  I noticed that they don't look you in the eye in these situations.  As they took them to the jail, some of us attempted to follow them, but cops and "peacekeepers" (a group of people who apparently were trying to keep the march peaceful, but really just ended up being as useless as the cops, and pissing us off) were blocking our way.  Jake (the one who was arrested earlier) had gotten past them, and then turned to come back (the whole time being on the sidewalk).  As he walked back, a cop yelled at him that he was under arrest, and he told the cop that he had the right to walk on the sidewalks, at which point the cop tackled him to the grass.  I saw this, too.  Again, we started yelling.  Trying to keep everyone chanting "let them go" was pretty hard at this point.  I was tired, and I think everyone felt done, and were probably afraid of all the large men with bats, guns, and mace.  Someone tried changing the chant from "let them go" to "we want peace".  The cops, again for some reason thinking Michael was the head of something, told him to get the crowd to disperse, and they would let them go.  Someone tried to get people to chant "Let them go, and we will go", but that lasted maybe 20 seconds.

I felt absolutely horrible asking people to leave so that my friends could be released.  I felt like a traitor.  That I was simply encouraging the bullying taking place.  But many of the people felt they had achieved what they came to do, and so left.  One Palestinian woman, however, started yelling in the megaphone that we shouldn't leave, that this was exactly what they came to speak out against, the State bullying people, forcing them to stay in their place.  She was so right.  I was so thankful for her.  But I still wanted my friends out of jail.

So we packed up our drums and banners and walked to the jail (it was just right next door to the city hall).  The cops were trying to block us from coming near the jail, being so ridiculous as to tell us to cross the street, despite the fact that there was a perfectly good sidewalk right there.  Eventually, we crossed back over.  After about twenty minutes, some guy, who we're all pretty sure was a cop, came out and told us that they have to process them, and that they'd let them go in 30-45 minutes.  About 20 of us stuck around.  Did I mention it was very cold?  Sean didn't have a coat, so I let him wear mine for a bit.  Eventually, someone got him one from their car.  The people that stayed were our group, some of the peacekeepers and members of Instead of War, and a group of young Palestinian women who had met Amanda from a previous action.

They let them out one at a time, with about 10 minutes in between.  Ryan's face was scuffed up and swollen.  Jake came out in his boxers and tights (which I'm hoping he was wearing to keep warm) because they told him he could only have one pair of pants on.  Then we went to Ellen's apartment for tea and peanut butter sandwiches.

So that's what happened.  That is what happens here when incredibly peaceful people want to cry out against the perpetration and support of violence.  I felt bad for the Palestinians, who found that they are neither free at home or here.  That they are being forced to stay in lines, being watched by armed and armored men.  It was disgusting to me that the cops would display bats, guns, and mace in front of children and elderly people, especially ones who are crying out against oppression.

The thing that really bothers me is that when telling this story to people, they start to defend the cops, saying that they need to be there, they had reason to be paranoid, that that is what happens when you don't do what the cops tell you to, that we can't be in the street without a permit, that some people are looking for a fight.  The cops were useless.  They weren't protecting us.  They were there to arrest us, beat us, mace us, or shoot us if any of us got out of line (the majority of the "us" being families).  And they weren't there to protect the people on Delmar.  We weren't attacking them.  This was a very peaceful and celebratory march.

According to dictionary.reference.com, fascism is "a governmental system led by a dictator having complete power, forcibly suppressing opposition and criticism, regimenting all industry, commerce, etc., and emphasizing an aggressive nationalism and often racism."  Now, what happened wasn't strictly that, but it looked and felt way more like that than like freedom.

I love reading the book of  Isaiah, although it can be hard, especially at times like these.  I hate that so many look to force and oppresion, to robbing people of life, freedom, and homes in order to make a more perfect world.  That people want to perpetuate what is going on.  Want to defend horrible actions like cops throwing dancers to the ground, or manufacturing bombs to be used on civilians, or want to continue shopping and living in luxury while so many are being robbed of a home.  Obama was promising change, but he and so many other people in power just want to continue doing things as we have been, saying that more money and more force will fix the problem, blaming the victims for the pain in their lives.  We're all ignoring Isaiah's words, that the way to freedom is by breaking every yoke, feeding the poor, clothing the naked, sharing our homes, setting the oppressed free.  Then, and only then, will our healing quickly appear, will our light will shine in the darkness.

Jesus said:

I tell you the truth, no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age (homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, children and fields—and with them, persecutions) and in the age to come, eternal life.

My church, or at least, the part of the Church, the Body of Christ, that I am a part of, is striving for community.  We're hoping to embrace the connection, community, and family that comes with the reconciliation being made real through the sacrifice of Jesus.  His sacrifice is reconciling not only us with God, but us with each other.  The new creations we are becoming are all a part of the gathering together that God is doing.  And we want to see this, and live this, because this is how we were created to live.

Jesus said, in the quote above, that if we follow Him, even at the cost of losing everything, we will gain family.  We will have brothers and sisters.  And I can attest to this truth.  I love my church family.  I feel incredibly blessed to have them.  I am nurtured there, and tried there, and I am pushed to embrace and share my salvation and my calling.  It is an encouraging place that brings connection.  It is a home, full of brothers and sisters.  But this New Family is not limited to the people here.

A couple weeks ago, I went to my favorite coffee house, where my friend (who happens to be my pastor) works.  I was going there to do some reading and to see him.  He started talking to a guy he knew that was there, Anthony, and introduced us.  Anthony is also part of a baby church.  He is planting a "sattelite" of his church here in town.  We sat with him and had a very good, long talk about church and related stuff.  It was great.  Now, there was no one else in the shop except an older couple about 8 feet away.  When we were wrapping up our conversation, the husband of the couple asked us if we were christians, and we said yes, and he smiled.  He said he was too.  By the way, their names are John and Karen.  Anyway, he told us that his wife wanted to take a cross country trip, and he was "tagging along".  When I asked where they were from, he said "Red Bluff, California" and then said he wanted to give me a gift.  He untied a hoodie from around his neck and gave it to me.  The hoodie had the name of his town on it.  I was a bit shocked and overwhelmed, and very grateful.  Anyway, he told us how he thought they were all alone out here, when God had brought brothers to him.  He then asked us about church stuff, and encouraged us to continue in our mission.  He said it was our job, the next generation, to heal the church.  Jon (my friend/pastor) asked him to pray for us, and he did, and was so honored that he got a little choked up doing so.

Later, Jon showed me that this is the Kingdom of God manifesting itself.  It is brothers and sisters coming together, being in communion, being one as God is one, Jesus in them and they in Jesus.  This is God telling us to realize the family that is all around us.

A few months ago, a young married couple joined our community.  Dan and Evey.  They brought much with them, and added an air of excitement to our family.  They encouraged us to pay closer attention to all of God's creation, including the environment, and also had creative ideas on how to build community and heal people here in St. Charles.  They played fun games with us and shared incredible food.  They had great insight and encouragement.  They fit perfectly.  Our community was changed by them, as it should be.

Sadly (for us), Dan and Evey are moving many states away.  Dan has been offered a job to manage a coffee shop, and he is taking it.  He said that he will miss us very much, and that we're the hardest part about them leaving.  Our community will miss them very much, and it will be different when they are gone, as it should be.  Hopefully, the creativity and encouragement they brought will live on.

As sad as this is, I see it as an opportunity.  I see it as a chance for our Family to grow.  I belive they were greatly encouraged by our community, and they are being sent out to share that, and everything else they have, with the new brothers and sisters they will meet.  They have plans to meet up with churches there, and they will spread this connection there.  And when they come back, or when we visit them, they (and we) will have new family members to tell them about.

Dan and Evey said a few poignant things on the day they left.  They mentioned that they feel we are a sister church to a church that is states away, whose "members" we don't know, because we share in their spirit and with their teachings (they make them available online).  They also expressed how much they loved the community here, how it is "it".  They said many people have a broken and distorted sense of community and family, because of this culture and the family ills that are so prevalent.  And it's hard with all this going on to find community at a meeting of hundreds or thousands of people, but here, it came more naturally.

So I am a little sad, but I'm excited, too.  I'm excited for Dan and Evey, and for the family members they will meet.  I'm excited for the new connections that will be made.  I'm excited to hear the directions God will give to us.  I'm excited to meet new brothers and sisters, to find new homes, and to continue in this connection that God is working out.

The other night, my church watched a video called "Breathe", put out by a company called Nooma.  They make short videos of biblical teaching, and they're done very artistically.  So far, the only teacher they've had has been Rob Bell, but in the future, there will be other teachers.

Anyway.

At one point in the video, he talks about God creating man, that God took the dust of the earth, which in hebrew is the word adama, and made man, which in hebrew is the word adam.  To paraphrase, he says that we are fragile, we come from the dust, but we have had our life breathed into us by the Creator of everything.

That connection of adama and adam got me thinking.  We are, in our very creation, in our nature, connected to the earth.  The bible says that all of us come from the dust, and all of us will return to it.  Not only that, but Eve, Adam's wife, was made from him.  We are, in the very way we were created, connected to each other and the earth.  We were created out of each other.  Essential to our being is the idea of connection.

We were made to be connected.  And yet we strive for disconnection.  And then we are lonely.

The Bible speaks several times of God's creation speaking; relaying messages about God, about His nature.  Psalm 19 expresses this blatantly (The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.  Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge.  There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard.), as well as parallels God's creation with his Law.  These are ways God communicates.

So then we go and cover this creation, this living communication, with cement and asphalt and buildings and towers, and we cut up parts of it and divide it out.  We cover it up and ignore it.  We turn away from it, and to our own devices.

This doesn't mean that we need to all go live under trees (although, really, is that such a bad idea?).  It means that God has made this wonderful thing that is constantly, always saying something about Him, and then we go and cover it up with stuff that says something about us, and then we complain that we can't hear from Him.

Not only that, but there are groups of people who would discourage people from trying to hear from God in nature.

And then there's the connection to each other.  Not only are we created out of each other, but we are part of Creation as well, which means we are a channel of communication.  And then people try to disconnect themselves from each other.  We focus on attaining things for ourselves, things to prove our worth.  We allign to parties, and draw lines on maps, and we don't accept each other's churches, and worst of all, we hold so much in (when we are called to be broken and poured out).  One thing the people of my church are trying to do is attain community.  Our pastor has expressed several times his frustration with the ole sunday morning greeting of "Oh, how are you?'' "I'm fine".  Everybody's always fine.  But they're not.  If you are, then that's wonderful, and I want to rejoice with you in that.  But if you are not, then I want to feel and lament that with you.

The Gospel, the good message, is all about communion; about coming to a place of common union, of community, of repairing and restoring things that are broken and separated.  The great curse of the fall was of separation, and we continue to choose and encourage that separation, instead of work against it.

One more thing.  Not only are we, by nature, connected to all of creation-the earth and other people-but, by our nature, we are connected to God.  Our life, our very breath is from Him, we are even created in His image, and we should not try to fight that connection by silencing His voice or by severing our ties.

"Woe to you who add house to house and join field to field till no space is left and you live alone in the land."

So at church we talked about the Kingdom of Heaven, which I have a feeling we will be exploring for a long time.  It is not a simple concept, and yet its manifestation can be almost invisibly simple.

Somewhere during the discussion, my friend Dan said that the phrases "saved" and "salvation" get perverted and can actually point away from the Kingdom.

Which got me to thinking.

The term "getting saved" is, by it's nature, self-centered.  It is about one's self being spared something.  Even getting rescued, as great as that is, is about one's self.

"Getting saved" implies the image of someone in a pit, and Jesus comes along and takes them out of that pit.  Which is beautiful, and it does happen.  This is a wonderful blessing and miracle that is so much at the heart of what God wants for us, and unfortunately gets skipped a lot.  We forget that we were sinners, and that Jesus has cleared all that out.  That we are now a new creation.  The old has passed away.

However, it is in this idea of the old passing away that we encounter a problem.  People preach and accept the idea of "getting saved" as "Alright, I'M out of MY pit.  MY sins have been taken care of.  I'm on my way to accept MY reward in Heaven, just as soon as I die, or as soon as Jesus comes back."  The message ends at the person climbing out of the pit.

So there's this image of a person getting saved from a pit.  And ending there.

I prefer the idea of being called.

True, the Bible does speak of being saved.  And like I said, that's an important idea.  But it also uses the term "called" (just go to biblegateway.com and search for "called".  pay attention to how it's used after the book of acts).  In the first chapter of Romans, Paul says we're called to belong to Jesus, called to be saints, and later, in another letter, he tells us we're called to live in peace.

The idea of calling implies to me the idea of someone passing through a town or field, ringing a bell or singing a song or shouting at the top of their lungs.  It's an idea of calling people out of something and into something.  An idea of people coming together.  The idea becomes communal.

And when you say to yourself that you've been called, you have to ask what it is you've been called to.  Where it is you're going.  Who it is that's calling.  Who all these other people are answering the call too.

Yes, we've been called out of something, but we've been called to something.  This is a communal calling, a calling that brings people together, a calling that heals.  We've been called to follow, to do, to live, to love.

Maybe a better image is that of a trumpet calling people to action, to a mission.  But not a mission to add numbers to "the church", not a mission to convert, not a crusade.  But a mission to go and lay yourself down, pour yourself out.  A mission to step out into this abundant life and overflow and spill out life and love.

When you're in a pit, you're separated.  And when that beautiful amazing event of being saved from the pit happens, you have to realize that you are now free to be connected.  To run towards the Caller and to gather with the Called, to go out and fulfill the Calling. 

I never understood the following parable until last night at church.  I always felt that it showed greediness, or a love for money, or a goodness in getting more money.  It doesn't.  But it is about selfishness.  Jesus told this parable when he was teaching about the Kingdom of Heaven.

   Again, it will be like a man going on a journey, who called his servants and entrusted his property to them. To one he gave five talents of money, to another two talents, and to another one talent, each according to his ability [my bible says that a talent is worth about $1000]. Then he went on his journey. The man who had received the five talents went at once and put his money to work and gained five more. So also, the one with the two talents gained two more. But the man who had received the one talent went off, dug a hole in the ground and hid his master's money.

   After a long time the master of those servants returned and settled accounts with them. The man who had received the five talents brought the other five. 'Master,' he said, 'you entrusted me with five talents. See, I have gained five more.'  His master replied, 'Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master's happiness!'

   The man with the two talents also came. 'Master,' he said, 'you entrusted me with two talents; see, I have gained two more.'  His master replied, 'Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master's happiness!'

   Then the man who had received the one talent came. 'Master,' he said, 'I knew that you are a hard man, harvesting where you have not sown and gathering where you have not scattered seed. So I was afraid and went out and hid your talent in the ground. See, here is what belongs to you.'  His master replied, 'You wicked, lazy servant! So you knew that I harvest where I have not sown and gather where I have not scattered seed?  Well then, you should have put my money on deposit with the bankers, so that when I returned I would have received it back with interest.  Take the talent from him and give it to the one who has the ten talents. For everyone who has, will be given more, and he will have an abundance. Whoever does not have, even what he has will be taken from him. And throw that worthless servant outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.'

See what I mean?  It looks like Jesus is advocating increasing your wealth.  But that's not it at all.  This is a parable, about the Kingdom of Heaven, and so it is not at all about money.

We talked last night about the Kingdom of Heaven.  About how it is not necessarily a place.  It is a realm of authority.  It is a place where things are like they were made to be, where God's will is being exerted.  Yes, it refers to what happens when Jesus comes back.  There will be a new Heaven AND a new Earth, and they will be together.  God will make everything "good", like it was in the beginning.  Everything will be renewed and restored.  Healed.

But Jesus said the Kingdom of Heaven is in our midst.  It is within us.  It is now.

So what does that mean?  And why am I so struck by this parable?

Well, it goes back to salvation and reconciliation.  In the letter entitled "Colossians", Paul says that,

"God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in [Jesus], and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood shed on the cross." 

And in the letter entitled, "2 Corinthians", Paul wrote,

"...if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!  And all this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting men's sins against them.  And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation."

So what does this mean? 

Have you ever received an incredible gift?  A gift that was almost too big?  A gift that somehow implied responsibility?  I have.  My amazing friend Adam gave me a car.  He told me that he didn't feel comfortable with the fact that he could afford a new car while his friends didn't have one at all.  And so God arranged things so that I could get the car.  I didn't know how to respond.  It happened very suddenly.  I didn't know what to say to Adam, his mom, or God, but thank you.  And that seemed so hollow.  I knew that I wanted to use this car the way I had received it: as a gift, a free gift.  I wanted to use it as something not my own, as a tool to bless people, as a constant opportunity to help.  This was how it was given, and I felt that it was how I was supposed to use it.  That didn't last very long.  I am presently in the process of reclaiming that mindset.

But that is what this parable is all about.

The Master has given to his servants.  They have been entrusted with something.  Two of them go out and increase two-fold what they've been given.  They please the Master and are rewarded.  One of them takes what he has been given and hides it.  He buries it in the dirt.  He keeps it to himself.  He does not go out and try to increase the blessing he's been given.  He has been entrusted with something, and he is selfish with it.  He is thrown outside the Kingdom.

We have received a blessing.  Our sins have been forgiven, and we are welcomed into the Kingdom, the Kingdom which is now, within us, and forevermore, everlasting.  The Kingdom which is life more abundant, life without boundaries. 

But we are not to be selfish with this blessing.  It was freely given, and we are to freely give it.  We are to increase the blessing, increase the Kingdom.  We are not to hide it, not to be selfish with it.  He has committed to us the message of reconciliation, and we are not to deny it!  Paul also says in 2 Corinthians "As God's co-workers, we urge you not to receive God's grace in vain." and again in 1 Corinthians, "This, then, is how you ought to regard us: as servants of Christ and as those entrusted with the mysteries God has revealed.  Now it is required that those who have been given a trust must prove faithful."  He has given us the ministry of reconciliation.  We are not to be satisfied with our "ticket into heaven", with our gift, our blessing, and bury it in the dirt, and forget about the rest of the world.  To do so is to be "wicked and lazy".  To do so is to be a "worthless servant".  To do so is to deny ourselves the Kingdom.  God has called us to something.  He wants us to partner in this reconciliation.  Yes, Jesus died as atonement for our sins.  He paid a price that we cannot.  But to skip straight to his death and what that means for our sins is to skip his life, which was spent showing us how to live, showing us what the Kingdom of Heaven was.  We are called to live a certain way.  We are called to be the Body of Christ.  We are called to heal and reconcile and love.

We are to pour out the blessings of the Master onto the world.  We are to spread this message of reconciliation.  We are to increase the Kingdom, the abundant life, the Love.

The Bible (John 17:3+) says that eternal life is knowing God, and knowing Jesus, whom God sent.  Also, it says several times that if we love, we will have life.  We are to pour out the love of the Father we've been given on to all those who need to feel that love.  We are called to be a living part of this reconciliation.

This story has an exciting ending, so if you get bored, skip to that.

This past Sunday I had planned to help my friend Nathan lead worship at his church in Illinois.  I've known Nathan for a few years and we used to be in a band together, and we're kind of now in the process of reconnecting, after a hiatus of nearly a year. 

Nathan recently got the position of worship leader (or as he says, lead worshiper) at the church, and we're both excited about it.  This is what Nathan was made to do.  I have helped him the two Sundays before this last one, and both previous times were amazing.  I really think that this is where our friendship was headed.  We realized a few months back that our connection is more spiritual than musical, but music is one way it does express itself.  We also have incredible conversations and both enjoy painfully stupid jokes.  Anyway, so the worship has been great, and the church seems to appreciate and respond to it.  I don't like putting adjectives to worship, because I see my role in leading worship as more of an aid.  So I do believe we helped the people express themselves to God.  And I know that Nathan and I worshiped during thos times.

This past sunday was no exception.  Every Sunday has been different.  The first one, we did an all acoustic, mostly mellow set.  I played dulcimer, djembe, mandolin, and guitar, and everything flowed smoothly, and again, I think it was good for everybody.  At the end of the service, the pastor had us come back up and do some of the songs again, and that was perfect, and some of the best worship I've had.  The second time, we had some more upbeat songs, and I just played guitar and djembe, and again, everything went very well.  I loved the sounds we were making.  The people clapped during and after some of the songs, and I know they weren't clapping for us; they were clapping in praise of God, and because they were excited and glad, and expressing all that.  It was wonderful.

This last sunday, as I said, was still very good.  We used both electric and acoustic guitars, and I played djembe on one song.  Everything fit together well.  The last song was a very cool, pretty lifehouse song called "Everything" and I played a nice, reverby guitar riff over Nathan playing acoustic.  Good good stuff.

So anyway, great sunday morning.  Now, let's backtrack again.  A couple weeks ago, my front left tire died.  It didn't pop, but it split or cracked or whatever you want to call it, so I put my spare on, which looked to be a regular, good tire.  I noticed though, that my front RIGHT tire was looking bad, and so was planning on fixing it.  So, on the way to Nathan's house Saturday night, about an hour drive, the car was acting a little shakey once I would get above 65.  I assumed it had something to do with the tire, but I was stupidly hoping that everything would be cool til I got there.  I noticed that once I got in the subdivision and was going like 30 that there was a slight bounce to the car.  I checked the tire when I got out and saw nothing.  The next morning, I again checked my tires, and everything looked normal.  But on the way to church, my car was doing the bouncy thing.

So, I had to leace church at 11:30 becaus I had to be at work at 1.  So I'm heading out, and now my car is getting shakey at like 63, which is frustrating, because the speed limit was 65.  So I'm driving 62 in the far right lane, and then suddenly my tire explodes.  Luckily, I kind of saw that coming.  And actually, to be more accurate, it shed its outer layer, which went flying off.  So I pulled to the shoulder and screeched to a stop, and then my tire really did explode with an extra loud BANG that hurt my ears.

Two thoughts went through my head:

1) This is gonna cost money, but luckily I have some.

2) I don't have to go to work today.  woo hoo!!!!!

I don't like work.  My attitude turns to crap and I act like a jerk sometimes, but mostly just think a lot of bad thoughts and get frustrated.  I don't like it.  It makes me feel icky.  I'm not who I want to be at work, and I don't know how to deal with it.

Oh, the tire that popped was NOT the tire that was looking bad.  It was the spare, which I was not expecting at all. 

And as I said because of what happened a few weeks ago, I have no spare.

Luckily, my tire died about 10 minutes from my grandparents' house.  So I called them, and they said they'd come.

In the mean time, I called my friend Seth and told him my exciting story.  Then, I got out my mandolin, and started playing and singing "that where I am, you may also be" by Rich Mullins, which is an amazing and incredibly fun song.  The funness and message were uplifting, even though really, I didn't need any uplifting.  I new things were gonna work out.

My grandparents got there, and we had to take the dead tire off.  Now, let me tell you, there are few things as invigorating as laying on your side about 4 inches from a highway, whose speed limit is 65, jacking up a car with a not-so-secure-looking jack.  good good times.

So, we went to wal-mart and got a new tire, then drove back to wal-mart and got the bad looking one replaced as well.  In the mean time, we got some Steak n Shake.  Oh, and my awesome grandpa payed for all of it.

A word on my grandparents.  they are incredibly interesting people and they've been married for 51 years.  My grandma cusses like a sailor, and my grandpa is very in to gadgets and music.  Also, they do this thing where they'll both talk to you at the same time, so it's kind of a sport trying to have a conversation.

I drove back home and passed out on the couch for an hour, then talked to my awesome friend liz, then went to my pastor/friend Jon's house to watch two Noomas, which are really great teaching videos done by rob bell, who I think is one of the best communicators of what it means to be like Jesus.  While over there, we had some of Jon's Kona Brewing Co. beer, which was a wheat beer brewed with passion fruit.  now, I generally hate beer.  I don't like alcoholic beverages in general, and have no desire to get drunk.  Beer usually tastes especially bad.  however, this one was actually really good.  I think that makes for my 4th beer in my life.

So, in review...I had an incredibly great sunday.  I got to spend time with my good good friend Nathan and have some great worship, then got to spend time with my wonderful grandparents, got two free tires and some free steak n shake, and then got to chill with my friends while getting some spiritual education.

I remember while driving home, pre-tire-explosion, that I prayed that God would get me home safe.  And He did, while providing a nice time with my grandparents and a day free of work, all of which was very healthy for me.

"To this very hour we go hungry and thirsty, we are in rags, we are brutally treated, we are homeless...We have become the scum of the earth, the refuse of the world"

I dislike the phrase, "God wants you to be happy."  Because it implies that if you are unhappy, you are somehow outside of God's favor, or living a way that God does not want.  I have no doubt that God blesses us, and promises blessings and gives reasons for hope.  And I don't think that all of those blessings come "afterward".  I myself believe to have been blessed with a job, a car, and a great community/church.  I try to be thankful for these things, but I forget a lot.

There is a lie that wants you to believe that God gives us "the good life", whatever that means.  There's a similar lie that wants you to believe that God wants His "followers" to desire, pursue, and attain power in this world.  There is a lie that wants you to believe that acting a certain way will bring you money and security; that the blessings of God are the same things an insecure, greedy man would desire.

The opening quote is from the Bible, in a letter written by Paul, who, without doubt, gave his life to God and to others.  He spent much of his life in prison.  He wasn't "happy" a lot of the time.  He and his friends were hungry, thirsty, brutally treated, and homeless.  They were the scum of the earth and the refuse of the world.  And yet they were most definitely living the way God wanted them to live, and God was most definitely blessing them, and blessing the world through them.  In addition to the lies listed above, there is a lie stating that if you work hard, you will have what you need.  However, the next sentence after Paul says he is homeless, he says "We work hard with our own hands."

The Psalms, the expressions of God's people, express joy AND anguish, praise AND anger.  We are called to be the Body of Christ, which was broken and poured out for the healing of the world.

A friend of mine says that she does not feel that she has the right to express her religion without the threat of going to prison.  This isn't to say that she doesn't believe in religious freedom.  I take it to mean that, fortunately or unfortunately, expressing beliefs is not an inherant right.  That Jesus said we are to live and love like him, and if we live and love like him, we will be persecuted like him.

We are called to be broken and poured out.  To serve in the Kingdom of God, not to reign in the kingdom of men.  Not to live in clean, comfortable, safe places.  Not to judge the poor and hungry, or those constantly encountering frustrations or attacks, but to defend and love these people.  Many of the followers of God were and are these people.

I don't know if this is an angry post, or if I have a point, or if it has a flow.  I know that I was struck by the words of Paul, saying that he was hungry and thirsty and brutally treated and homeless, and that there are lies that would place much judgement on Paul based on these facts.

The following blog was written yesterday in more or less the present tense:

So I am at a coffee shop I do not frequent for several reasons: 1) It is early afternoon and I feel my energy waining; 2) I had planned at the start of the day to do some reading at a coffee shop; 3) This on is on the way home.

So I'm in this coffee shop trying to read a book by David Crowder about praise, hoping that it will help me in my day to day life as well as in my understanding of worship, which I find important, seeing as how the thing I enjoy possibly most right now is leading worship at my church.  Anyhow, when I arrived, the barista was having a discussion with a customer, whom I understood to be a friend, about the current presidential hopefuls.  Before I ordered, the barista said to his friend, "In order to be pro-life, you have to be fully for life."  He then switched his attention to me and I ordered my drink, requesting a chocolate, orange, coffee drink they've had recently, but I ordered it like that, because I couldn't remember the name.  Also, I specifically said, "But I don't want it blended, just over ice." and the barista said, "Yeah, sure." or something to that effect.  I paid for my drink, dropped a dollar in the tip jar, and waited for my drink.

The barista and his friend continued their discussion, and the barista said, "If you're for war, then you're for death." and I smiled bcause I liked that.  I then wandered to the bakery case and decided I wanted a bagel.  The bagels cost 90 cents.  When I got back to the register, the barista handed me my drink.  However, it was blended.  But I didn't say anything, because I don't know of any way to inform a barista that they screwed up without sounding like a jerk.  [commense tense change] So I take the drink without complaint and tell him I'd like a bagel.  He asks if I'd like it toasted and with cream cheese, and I say yes.  He charges me $2.04.  This bagel has now more than doubled in priced.  woo.  I pay, and he tells me that it will be a couple of minutes  because he has to warm up the toaster.  I take that as my cue to sit down.

I take my seat and start to look through the book, while reluctantly sipping my blended, overly sweet drink.  The barista brings my bagel, and I am again disappointed.  The bagel has been sliced, toasted, and now appears to be a bagel/cream cheese sandwich, as there is the bottom half, a lot of cream cheese, and then the top half on top.  I look at the bagel in confusion for a moment or two wondering if I should eat it like I sandwich.  But I don't want to eat it like a sandwich.  So I try to tug the halves apart, but that doesn't work.  So again, I consider the possibility of eating a bagel/cream cheese sandwich, and I still don't like the idea.  I try again to separate the halves, and this time, I'm successful.  However, I discover that each half has an absurd amount of cream cheese on it.

So, I'm in this coffee shop, trying to read a book on praise, the whole time being disappointed and frustrated by my incorrectly made and overpriced lunch, and thinking of how I will tell my friend Jon, who is also a pastor/barista, about my unfortunate visit to a coffee shop.  And then I decide to write it all down, thinking that it will make an interesting blog.

I come away from this experience feeling rather foolish.

I went to Chicago again.  On monday and tuesday (23 and 24 of july).  I was originally supposed to go on a float trip with my friend Liz and a youth group.  That go cancelled, so Liz decided we should go to Chicago, and I was TOTALLY up for that.  She has friends there, and JPUSA is there, which is where we stayed for the night.  Here's what happened.

Sunday, I got off work early (about 1:30) and drove to Liz's house.  Her new roommate, Yun-Mi came with us.  We drove to Macomb, which is where Liz's school and apartment is.  The drive up was really nice and pretty.  Lots of farms, and cool clouds.  Along the way, we passed some people who needed gas, so we took them to get some.  It's weird, because I totally knew that was going to happen on this trip.  When Liz and I used to ride to school together, she picked up a few people, which always scared me.

Liz also made me free-style sing/rap to a song, which I didn't really want to do, and which took me a long time to do, and I only did a couple lines.  I so appreciate how Liz forces me out of my stupid box and encourages me to go with a flow and be more social and fun.  She's a good friend.

Not much else interesting happened on the ride up.  We talked a little and listened to a lot of music.  When we got to Macomb, we dropped Yun-Mi off at the college.  Then we went to pick up Liz's friend, Tara.  We went to a very very small park in Colchester, Illinois to wait for some of Liz's friends who were at a show.  The park consisted of swings, a water tower, a very small colorful gazebo-type thing, a cannon, and a pavillion with a stage and bleachers.  We decided to swing for a bit, and fixed some of the swings, as they were disconnected.  We walked over to the pavillion, and Liz said we should sing on the stage.  Tara jumped at the chance, and sang an incredibly sad Alanis Morrisette song.  good stuff.  Then Liz sang like a verse of a song, and was like "Come on Jason, you sing!" and I was like "I don't really do the unaccompanied singing thing, especially in public" and she's like "Sing!" and I'm like "No, I'm good." and she's like "Sing!" and so for whatever reason, I did.  I sang Don't Take Your Guns to Town, totally unaccompanied, in a park in a small town, on a little concrete stage.  woot.  It was rough.  Kind of freeing, though.  Anyway, we all sang some more.  I sang "Such Great Heights" next time.

After that, we went to Liz's apartment.  We ate some really awesome fried rice with meat and veggies.  After that, Liz needed to clean up, and Tara was playing with watercolors.  Eventually Liz was like "Hey Tara, you should paint something from real life.  Paint Jason."  So she did, while I sat and read Sex God by Rob Bell (awesome book).  So now I have a watercolor painting of my head and shoulders.  woo!  Oh, I also played a couple songs on Liz's guitar, which was cool.

After that some of Liz's friends came over and we talked.  good stuff.

We left the next morning around 8 and went to pick up Liz's friend Tom, who is to be staying at JPUSA for two weeks.  lucky dog.

The drive to Chicago was nice.  I sat in the back and read and slept a little.  Tom and Liz talked a lot.  Once in Chicago we went to the beach along Lake Michigan to meet up with Liz's friends Gobs, Natalie, and Greg.  Now, I didn't know we were going to a beach, so I had on jeans and a button up t-shirt.  Yay for out-of-placedness.  Anyway, it was a really surreal experience to be on a beach in Chicago, because that's not something you usually thing of.  And it looks weird, because it's like water, beach, street with traffic, tall buildings.  It doesn't match, really, and is just kind of trippy.  anyway, we took lots of pictures.  Gobs sang for me some songs she wrote, and they were good.

After that we went to walk Gobs to the train.  We walked REALLY far, and I had to pee so bad the whole way, so I didn't really get to enjoy the walk there.  We dropped her off then went and ate, then walked REALLY FAR back to Liz's car.  We found out that Gobs decided to not get on the train, and instead to go to a bar where her friend works, so that's where we went.  So we went there and just talked, and it was cool.  Liz's friend Greg, who she makes music with, decided he wanted to play guitar, so he and liz got Liz's guitar and went to a side-street to play.  We all joined them and listened, and it was cool, because they make good songs.  I played two of my songs, too.  It was really cool and fun.

After that we dropped some people off, then Liz, Tom, and I went to JPUSA. We got there around 11:30.  We didn't reserve a space, so they had Tom and I sleep in the prayer room, and Liz slept with her friend Annaliese.

The next day I got to meet up with Hugo.  Hugo is so so so awesome.  After breakfast, Tom, Liz, and I went to Unique Thrift Shop.  I didn't find anything. After that we hung out with Andi and Al, some friends of ours who live across the street from JPUSA and who do a ministry called Emmaus, which reaches out to male prostitutes.  After that we met up with Hugo and Scott (two jesus people) and went to the Loyola University Museum of Art, and the Museum of Contemporary Art.  that was so fun.  On the El ride out there, Liz and I had a good talk.  When we got off, we went to eat some bau, which is a bun/roll type thing stuffed with meat and veggies and whatnot.  They're supposedly asian.  Their cups and stuff said "BAU: Hot Asian Buns" which made me laugh, and is something I have to remember to call Liz (cuz she's asian).  We also met a girl named Ashley who was trying to recruit for Greenpeace.  She was really nice, and we got to learn a little bit about the group.

The museums were cool, but nothing really eventful happened at them.  When we got back, we stopped and got some Thai food, which is so so delicious, and we all went to a room and ate and talked.  Scott used to be in Greenpeace, so we talked about the pro's and con's of the group and the idea that no matter what issues you want to deal with, you have to bring it down to, or balance it with, human needs.  Scott and Hugo did most of the talking, and it was so so awesome just to listen, because they are both deep and wise.

Scott had expressed earlier that he wanted for me to do some worship, so we did.  Hugo had to go, though, so it was just me, Liz, Tom, and Scott.  We read some psalms and sang some songs.  It was so so so so so so so amazing.  Liz and Scott were doing all kinds of extra stuff, and Tom was singing some really nice, harmonic, soothing lower lines, and it was so mixed and communal.  It was exhausting.  It really was expression to the Living God the things we were feeling and our joy in what He's done for us.  And there was so much feed back and cross-encouraging.  The last song I played was a song I wrote, which started out being about God, but moved away from that to being just about human relationships, and it's been a challenge for me to be in the mindset of getting it back about God.  This worship time definitely helped with that.

And that was the last thing we did before we left.  Tom stayed, because as I said he's staying for two weeks.  We found a $50 parking ticket on Liz's windshield, which was ridiculous.  On the drive home, Liz and I had really awesome conversation about all kinds of stuff.  She is such a good friend.  She's encouraging and open and forces me to get out of the useless box I try to stay in so much.  This was definitely my favorite part of the trip.  Oh, I drove half of the way home, which was cool.

When we got home, we went to the restaurant that Liz's mom and step-dad own.  They are both Korean, but it's a Japanese restaurant, which is weird.  They gave us free sushi and rice, which was so so good.  After that I drove home and was tired, so I slept.

The trip was so good and perfect and fulfilling.  I have no complaints about it at all.  I'm hoping to really live the things I learned there.

k, that's all.  peace and love to you.

A note about my new name, "it is not about the music".  I came to realize this recently, mostly through talks with my friend and ex-bandmate Nathan.  The idea is as follows:

Anytime I've been in a band or band-like situation, the purpose and driving force, or the goodness, of the gathering has been much more about community than music.  For example - When I was going to my first community college, I was rather lonely, and not really in the best place emotionally/mentally.  My friends Liz and Jenny wanted to start doing guitar stuff, mostly to help Jenny learn guitar.  So, we all started going over to Jenny's apartment, eating dinner together, and then going into her living room and sitting on the floor and playing and singing songs from a group called Enter the Worship Circle.  Now, at the time, I was rather distracted by the prospect of having a band, and I denied myself the full revelation, at the time, of what was going on.  I was trying to make it about the music.  Afterwards, through talks with Liz, I realized that our music happened because we all needed a community.  God provided a small family for us without any of us (to my knowledge) even asking.  I think back on those evenings with such fondness.  They were wonderful times of sharing meals and songs, and it was a community we all needed so much.  And I'm convinced that worship happened during those times, even though we never planned to make it a worship time (although, it did resemble, slightly, the early church model of breaking bread together in people's homes).  I was lucky enough to record one of our last sessions, and it is some of the most powerful worship music for me, because it represents the beauty of friends being together.

After that faded out due to my move to missouri, I started playing with Nathan and Rebekah in a band we called Cerulean.  We started haphazardly, and rather quickly, due mostly to Nathan's urging.  Now, I did grow musically through this band, but again, I don't feel that was the point.  I learned so much about people, and about making right judgements, and about family, and relationships all throughout the time we were playing.  nathan and I have a real spiritual bond, which we first mistakenly labeled a musical bond.  But it is so much more than that.  Some of my favorite memories of that time is Nathan and I talking about stuff before we went to sleep whenever I would stay the night there.  Now, I definitely did have fun making the music and playing for people, and writing cello lines, and singing in front of people.  But the really valuable stuff was growing closer to Nathan and his Family and to Rebekah.  Also, we all went through huge transitions during and after the band, and I really think God was again providing without being asked.

After that died out, I was in another very haphazard band, which was also short lived.  Liz's church needed music for a coffee-house event, so she, her sister, our friend Jeanetta, and I decided to play for it.  The thing I loved about this "band" was that we were very unconcerned with a lot of things, and open to just tossing anything into what we played.  It was so much fun, and carefree.  We played for the church, and then about a month later, at a coffeehouse music/art night in downtown st. louis.  and then that was it.  Those were the first times I played songs I wrote for an audience.  And we wrote a couple songs as well, which were fun to make because it was so free and spontaneous.  Now, although this particular instance was more about music, it also was very much about growing my friendship with Liz, as well as making connections with Lilly and Jeanetta, but also about presenting my music to family and friends, and more than anything, it was fun and freeing.

Furthermore, I just went to cornerstone, which is a huge music festival in northern illinois, where you camp out for 4 days to a week, and watch music and seminars all day.  tons of fun.  Anyway, I had huge expectations before hand about being surrounded by nature and music and happenings.  When I got there, I realized that it is a little more subtle and laid back.  Some of my most favorite times were hanging out with my "neighbors" and seeing friends from JPUSA and other places, whom I haven't seen in a while.  It was also a chance to be somewhere "foreign" with my pastor and friend, Jon.  The music was almost a nice benefit to a time to be with friends, rather than the other way around.

I also think this idea is incredibly important for church and worship.  "Church" is about uniting with believers and God, and worship is about praising God and conversing with Him.  It is not about style or songs or volume or any of that other junk.  It's about connection, communion.

Additionally, I think that whenever a group of musicians make it all about the music, they've failed.  The music is no longer an expression of their community, it is a stale "other" that is worked on, not expressed.

So, my point is, it is not about the music.  Music is not God, and it is not life.  It is a powerful connecting and moving force, but it should be connecting us to something, or moving us toward or away from something.  I've shared before about the group Psalters.  Their music is such a call to revolution and action.  It mostly isn't "pretty".  It isn't idle music, it is very purposeful, and at times, turbulent music.  It is about caring and reaching out.

I guess the "it" that isn't about music is life.  Life is about communion with others and with God.  Music is a powerful tool we've been given to bring about that communion.

p.s. the above is not meant to give the idea that music is only music when it is fully taking advantage of its connecting force.  I'm merely saying that I believe things work best when they are an expression.  and also that life is about connecting with people, not making life about music or any other substitute.

Hey there friend.  I'm writing this simply to share a really wonderful time I had recently.  Sunday night, I went to a coffee house to hang out with my friend Jon.  We talked a little about our church, and I had the best scone I've ever had.  It was like eating cookie dough.  While we were there, a guy named Eric talked with us a little about Jesus and church and other stuff, and that was very cool.  He had a huge freaking beard.  After that, I went to my friend Liz's house.  Her friend Greg was over there as well.  They were working on some songs that they had written.  Greg is an amazing guitarist, and Liz has possibly my favorite voice, so it was so good to sit and listen to them play and sing, and very interesting and enjoyable to watch them work through the songs, some of which they had written that day.  Liz gave me some left-over thai food that they had, and I cooked a frozen pizza for Greg.  I love it when people share food.  I think it's one of the best things we can do with each other.  So, they worked on their songs for a few hours, and I thought they were great songs.  I played one of mine, and that was fun.  After that, we listened to some cds.  Then, it was almost 2 in the morning, so we went to bed.  Well, Liz went to bed.  I laid on the living room floor, and Greg was on the couch.  Greg and I talked for a while about school and philosophy and paths and whatnot.  He is an incredibly friendly guy.  The next morning, I woke up and brushed my teeth.  When I went in to check on Liz, she was awake and reading through Proverbs.  She asked me to sit, so I did, and she read them aloud.  We commented on the ones that resonated with us.  It was cool stuff.  After that, I made eggs and toast for everybody, and we casually ate breakfast, with some good music playing in the background.  After that, we went to Liz's church building so she and greg could record their songs.  Again, it was great, because I got to hear the songs again and observe artists crafting their art.

Everything about that time was beautiful and vibrant.  That's definitely closer to the life I want to have all the time.  Sharing music and food with friends.  Waking up to read aloud through the bible with a friend.  Again sharing more food and music.  Something Greg and I mentioned is that we can't pick what parts of our lives we claim as our lives.  It all is.  The times when I'm wasting time on the couch, or being whiney and jerky at work, or washing dishes, or having hateful thoughts are all my life, too.  And so are the times I spend with Jon and Liz and my other friends.  I definitely prefer the latter more.  I need to get to the point where I'm comfortable with inconveniences and and greet everything with grace.

Greetings to you.  So, I've been meaning to write a blog for a long while, but just pretending like I was going to gather my thoughts.  I am a professional procrastinator, however, so that most likely will never happen.  So hopefully, my intended blog will appear soon.  In the mean time, here are some thoughts I deem worthy of your time.

I've been reading and thinking a lot, and praying a little.  It's silly how I put prayer at the bottom of my list so much.  If I'm wanting to learn, why do I go to the source of all goodness and wisdom last?  That is stupid and foolish and contradictory to what I claim to believe.  But I have also come to realize that I am a hypocrite.  So that makes sense.  But it's still bad.

Anyway, so I've been reading some books.  I recommend them.  They are, in no order: "Velvet Elvis" by Rob Bell; "Blue Like Jazz" by Donald Miller; and "The Present Future" by Reggie McNeal (although, that one I have some problems with; but lots of good ideas).  Anyway, these books have the underlying message that Jesus of Nazareth was a revolutionary in a lot of ways, and the people who claim to follow him are quite less than revolutionary.  I am definitely guilty of this.

Answering the call of Jesus is to accept a call to do what Jesus did.  Like help the poor.  Not just help them, like they were a pitiful charity, but eat with them and get to know them, and basically be friends with them.  Make friends with people who are hurting, simply because they exist and are worthy of love.  Now, I say I believe in Jesus, that I follow Him, but I've taken hardly a step down His path that leads to people who are hurting and in need; a path that leads to love for everybody; a path that leaves judgement up to the only One worthy of judging; a path that leads to "life more abundant", a life full of more stories, more people, more love, more LIFE.  Notice I didn't say a life free of pain.  No, we were never promised that.  Never promised money or cars or status.  We were called to go lower than the lowest, to get down on our knees and wash their very feet, to take on their burdens, to give whatever it is we have to them.  Jesus promised us pain.  But He promised us Himself, too.

So, enough of that string of thought.  I want to get to the point.  I keep going back to the proverb that says, "the more the words, the less the meaning."  Somehow, I can't live that.

There is this band, of sorts, of which I am a fan.  They call themselves Psalters.  They travel around to be with people, to feel their pain and hear their stories and share music (for proof, go to www.psalters.com and read what they have to say).  Their music draws from so many cultures.  They take it and play it with force and passion, they reach down to the lowest and lift them up to the Highest.  Their music stirs something in me.  I was sitting in the computer lab at school the other day and decided to check on them and see what was going on.  Luckily, they're on myspace.  I started listening to the songs.  As I was, the stirring began. My heart pounded harder.  I felt empowered.  I felt like I wanted to do something.  I felt like I wanted to start a revolution.

And so the headline for my profile is, "I want to start a revolution with you, not against you." and it is my hope that I one day mean that completely.  I don't want to go about judging people, condemning people, hating people.  I don't want to withold love from people just because I don't agree with them, or just because they don't (seemingly) have anything to offer me. 

There is a song lyric I had as my headline a while back that said, "At least we're not the ones carrying such heavy, heavy, heavy stoning stones" (incidentally, it's a tilly and the wall song).  I think that makes a lot of sense in light of what I just said.  Carrying around all this judgement and hate is a lot more burdensome then giving up yourself and loving people and listening to stories.

So, I want to start a revolution with you.  I do not want to oppress you, but I want to fight with you against your oppressors.  But I will not fight with hate.  Or at least I hope not to.  Because that is no way to fight.  I've heard it said "an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind" and I think that's something to consider.  The Bible says it this way: "If you keep on biting and devouring each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other."  Also, I will try to not fight for agendas, be they mine or yours.  Fighting for selfish personal gain, by definition, shoves somebody below us.

I want to start a revolution with you.  I want to be with you and fight with you against chains, against oppression, against hate.  And I want you to fight with me, because I am weak and not a good warrior. 

I want to start a revolution with you.  I want to hear your story, and ask that you hear mine.  I want to remove all the glory from myself, reach down, and wash your feet, help you walk.  And I need somebody to do the same for me, because I am weak, and a hypocrite, and a liar, and a self-imposed judge, and a jerk (it is at this point that I become painfully aware of a mewithoutYou song lyric that goes, "there I go, showing off again, self-impressed by the way I can put myself down!"), but also someone who is trying, at least some of the time, to be a friend.  I will fail a lot at these goals.

Before Jesus went to lay down his life, he did something interesting.  He met with his friends for a meal.  Before the meal, he removed his clothes.  He then knelt down and washed his friends feet, and dried them with a towel wrapped around his waist.  He then told his friends that they would not yet understand what he is doing.  But he told them that they are to be like that with each other, and with others.

I know I am not like that.  I know that I will never be like that.  I know a lot of people like me who are not like that.  But that's where I want to be.

I want to start a revolution with you, not against you.