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The Philippine Chronicles, 5

March 16, 2008 in Christianity, Church, Compassion, Life, Travel 0

Today, (actually yesterday for me but still today for you, if that makes any sense) was jam packed. We’re leaving Manila today so we had to pack up all our stuff again and get it on the bus before we could leave. Then we headed off to another project.

With it being Saturday we got yet another persepective on the Compassion projects here because this is the day that the children actually attend the project regularly. When we arrived at the church we were greeted by a line of the children in traditional Filipino dress greeting us. Then everyone went inside for a program while Taylor, Eric and I set up for shooting.

By the way, our Compassion rep here is named Pattie (I’ll try to get a picture of her on here later), and she is awesome. She’s a former Compassion child herself and graduate of the LDP program. We often throw around various versions of the phrase “making it happen,” but Pattie brings new meaning to those words. Anything we’re doing would not be possible without her.

At the project today our group was joined by the Continentals. If you don’t know what the Continentals are, they’re a kinda show-choir group of teens and young-twenties that travels around performing. It’s a Christian thing. They’re not my style by any means, but evidently they get a lot of children sponsored, so kudos to them. They performed a couple of songs for the kids, which I’m sure was good for them, but we could have done without.

After the program, we had the LDP’s join one of the classes so that we could capture some footage of them really interacting with some of the children. This was one of the most impressive things I was able to see. It was a class of really young kids (maybe 4 or 5 years old), and all they were doing was making fish out of construction paper. But they loved it, and their teacher, Glenda, was incredible.

We shot with them for awhile and then brought out all of the younger children of the project to shoot some group stuff. There were a lot of them. We had them wave at the camera and say some things as a group, and they were awesome. They really listened and nailed it, and I think they had a great time doing it. Afterwords, I walked up into the group of them and was thanking them and giving them all high fives. Then they started laughing and pointing at me and calling me Santa Clause. I’ve got to lose weight.

Once we were finished at the project we boarded the bus to do some home visits. I had heard about where we were going, which was a cemetery where people lived (yes, you read that correctly), but I was not prepared by any means. I’m going to do my best to describe this, but I’m positive words can’t do it justice. We have some photos and footage, so you’ll just have to look for that later, but without the sounds and smells, I don’t think it’s possible to even then get a handle on it.

This is a cemetery full of crypts and monuments, not a graveyard. Graves are stacked on top of each other and in varying conditions. Then there are “homes” and stores actually built on top of the graves. These people literally live in the cemetery. From what I understand the government actually cracked down on it a few years ago. So there used to be more. But not they’ve all retreated behind the tombs.

You see, the cemetery is surrounded by high walls with tombs built into them, just one on top of the other. Behind these walls there exists a whole neighborhood of dwellings. It’s dark. It’s cramped. It’s wet. It’s dirty. It’s small. It’s horrifying. It’s heart-wrenching.

So that we wouldn’t be rude yet give Taylor time to shoot, Ben and I went to visit a home. Instead we visited like six. I’m still trying to process what we saw.

One home was literally the size of my master bathroom at home. I’m not exagerating. There was a tiny bit of floor space. And then two bunks stacked on top of each other. This was for a family of four. The mother has lived there 27 years, her whole life. She was born there and is still there. However, it was amazing to listen to the hope she has for her little boy, Michael, who is in the Compassion project. Because of Compassion he won’t be living in that shack in twenty years.

Here’s a video of the place.

I’ve got to go. I’ll finish later. Sorry…

Off to church.

Okay… I’m back.

Church was cool by the way. Read the above post.

Back to what I was saying about the homes of the tomb dwellers… Another house we visited was a kind of tree house. Actually, that’s not true. It was a tree house. It was built above a creek, about 8′ high. I’ve tried to put a little video of it below. When we asked the mother there what we could pray for her about, she asked for health because she had fallen through the grate that connects her tree house to the rest of the land a few months ago and hurt her head. She also told us that when it rains the water reaches the house and when it storms they evacuate because the tree moves too much.

Then this afternoon we flew out to another island.

It’s so much to process, and it’s a ridiculously insurmountable obstacle to try to figure out how to communicate the impact of it to you guys and anyone else. But I’m trying.

Signing off.

Dispatch from Random Land

December 13, 2005 in Books, Church, Conviction, Friends, Health, Random, xanga 13

No.  I haven’t quit.  And thanks for all the encouragement to post.  November only got two posts.  How sad!

Why have I not been posting?  That’s a great question.

Is it because I haven’t had anything to say?  Perhaps.  If you know me at all, you know that I have actually had much to say, just not the energy to say it.  So, I will post now under headings with condensed versrions of things that I might have said in longer sentences and paragraphs but did not.  For that, children, you can be grateful.

Now, where to begin?…

Xanga
There has been much discussion about the merits of Xanga lately and whether or not it is a waste.  I believe this to be an example of the apathy that plagues so many of us.  This is just one more thing to care about for awhile and then stop.  At least it’s not something vital to life like eating, breathing, or romance.  Plus, I swore to myself that I wrote here for me before anyone else.  Therefore I will try to continue.

Depression
I’m a statistic.  One of the holiday depressed though I don’t think it has much to do with the holidays.  I’ve relayed before about my tendency to go balls-to-the-wall and get so consumed with things that I don’t see the big picture or the forest for the trees or however you want to say it.  I’m currently trying to step back and examine my life rationally so that I might get a grip on it. 
    Recently I had an imaginary counseling session with myself.  I went to myself for counseling except the counselor me was a middle aged lady with glasses who was a very good listener.  I started the session by telling her (the counselor me) all the things that were wrong with me so that she wouldn’t have to diagnose them but could simply move on to treatment (that would hopefully include some drugs; if only I were a psychiatrist).  One of the things I discussed with her was that I have a 156 IQ and am extremely adept at both logical anaylisis and creative artistic expression.  Also, I’m of Irish and English decent.  Therefore, God designed me for inner conflict.  No wonder I go through bouts of being an absolute mess.

Supper Club
The simple answer to why I resigned from my presidency is that the Supper Club outgrew me.  This is no one’s fault or responsibility.  Nor should it be looked at as something negative at all.  My time is up and it has become something else, better suited to those who currently participate in it.  Cheers.

Friends
I love and value the ones that I have.  I also long for others.  How can you be surrounded by people you like and appreciate and yet still be lonely?

Narnia
Saw the movie.  Liked it.  Overall, I think it’s okay.  It’s not great.  Don’t lie to yourself.  Some of the bluescreen or greenscreen or whatever looks ridiculous.  I wish Aslan did not make me picture Liam Neeson.  I wish his voice was someone I did not know.  However, I saw it with a theater full of little kids with their parents.  They loved it.  That’s encouraging.  Perhaps they’ll improve a lot of things before I see Reepicheep come to life.  In the meantime, my imagination provides a much better interpretation than Andrew Adamson.

Christmas Cards
I couldn’t take the pressure this year.  Ask Liza.  I basically had a panic attack trying to come up with a Christmas card to top last years.  I couldn’t think of anything funny and thought I might make one that actually said something.  Liza vetoed it for good reason. 
    I had a picture of the card here. But I’ve taken it off for fear of it offending others. It has a beautiful painting of a Madonna and Child on it. However, Liza vetoed it, again for good reason, because in the painting Mary has a bare breast, thought certainly not in a perverse sense. It also featured a Buechner quote. So, I’ll just write about the quote later and if you want to see the card you can email me or leave a comment about it.

Christian Community
The Church vs. a church.
    During my years at Mississippi College it was absolutely essential that you attend the BSU (Bapstist Student Union; some of you know it as BSM).  You were nobody if you didn’t.  At least you were a pagan or backslider.  I’m pretty sure some of
the leaders of the BSU gave little thought to God on a daily basis but that is neither here nor there.   I was an active and faithful member of the BSU my entire Freshman year.  I found my job at FBC Jackson through BSU.  I performed on the BSU drama team, Cross Section.  I applied to go on summer missions through the BSU (though I didn’t because I lost my scholarship and therefore took some classes at the community college during the summer to help my GPA; stupid grades).  When I returned for my sophomore year, our BSU director and asst. director had both left for church jobs. 
The BSU went through an upheaval and had no real leadership and it was frustrating and I was misrepresented and mistreated personally by BSU leadership.  One night during Gathering (that’s what we called our weekly meetings) I remember being so fed up and frustrated and distracted that I prayed for God to please calm my spirit and ease my anxieties because if He didn’t, I couldn’t worship Him at that moment because none of my thoughts were about Him.  I walked out of Gathering and never went back.  I feel like that right now.

Anne Lamott
I’m really into reading about different people’s faith journeys.  Anne Lamott’s account of hers in Traveling Mercies has become one of my favorite.  It is shocking, reassuring, inspiring, encouraging, agrivating, enraging, pathetic, incredible, reverant, irreverant, immoral, moral, loving, judgemental, liberal, honest, illustrative, sad, joyful, reflective, and hopeful.  Thare are many more adjectives to describe it, but those are a good starting point.

Student Life
Boone rehearsals start Monday.  Tour is coming up.  I haven’t hardly thought about camp.  My attitude continues.  I’ve never loved something so much that drove me as crazy as this does.  I must be smack dab in the middle of God’s will for my life.

Health
I’m overweight (in case you couldn’t tell) and have given serious thought to developing an eating disorder as a means of dealing with that fact.  Trust me, I don’t say that to be funny or glib.  I’m serious, which tells you how ridiculous I can be when I can’t sleep
at night.
    I still have a knot in my side that needs to be cut out.  However, I’ve become rather attached to him.  I’ve named him Barry.  Our parting will be extremely sorrowful, though will lower the risks of him becoming something threatening.
    I still need a root canal.  I broke off another part of my tooth last night eating chips and Razzy Lime Salsa.  It spiked my fever.  Who knew?

Happy Holidays
This is an inclusive phrase.  Since the holiday season begins now pre-Halloween and runs until after the new year, this phrase seems appropriate.  It includes many holidays, nearly all of which I celebrate.  In fact, though I don’t celebrate Channukah, I could.  It’s a great story of God’s miraculous power and provision for His people.  What a great story to remember and celebrate.  In fact, I think I would celebrate it, except that Christmas is probably an even better example of God’s miraculous power and provision for His people.  However, I shouldn’t be surprised for a secular society and culture to want to adopt “Happy Holidays” rather than “Merry Christmas.”  Even if they do so out of malicious intent.  John records Jesus saying, “If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you.”  My reaction to the world can be combative or can reveal just what is so merry about Christmas.

School
I miss it.  There.  I said it.

Pascagoula
This is where the squirrel went bezerk if you’re a Ray Steven’s fan.  It is also the hometown of Senator Trent Lott of Mississippi and one of the areas affected by Hurricane Katrina.  A few of us from Student Life went down there this past weekend to help one of our youth ministers, who is actually now an associate pastor, begin getting his house back into some sort of habitable state.  Fourteen total people went from Student Life.  Actually, thirteen, because Amy Harlan went and she’d technically not on the payroll yet.  I wish more would have gone.  This was the plan.  Katrina hit just before our annual staff retreat at the beginning of September when we usually go to the beach.  At that time, I wondered if we should go to the beach.  At least I should go deep sea fishing and should give that money I would spend on that to relief efforts.  But we did go to the beach.  And I did go deep sea fishing.  We helped lead out in establishing a relief station here at the Church at Brook Hills.  I even volunteered there on night and met some incredible people from New Orleans.  But this was different.  I don’t say all this to make anyone feel guilty.  I hate that.  I’ll admit I didn’t even really want to go.  I kept thinking about backing out because of everything that needs to be done here and I hate people making me feel guilty about that.  Like when the group came back from Tanzania last year and made me feel like they thought that I had no understanding that there was poverty in the world because I had not been to Africa.  Screw that.  The point is that this was one guy’s story that I got to be a part of for a few days.  These stories are going on all the time.  Not usually on such a large scale with worldwide attentnion like the hurricanes or the tsunami or AIDS in Africa or the shortage of clean water or the conflicts in the Middle East.  But they’re everywhere.  Right now.  And I should be doing something about it.  We should be.  To quote Izzy from Grey’s Anatomy, “because it’s what Jesus would freaking do!”

My List of Things I want to Accomplish During This Next Season
0 for 10 and counting.

Holla.

A.A.

November 9, 2005 in Books, Church, xanga 8

It’s definitely been awhile.  So, brace yourself for a post of some length.  Sorry.  I’ll try somewhat to restrain myself.  I’ll start with bullet points.

  • Go visit my friend John Mark‘s site.  His post is all about me, and I’m awesome (please hear the sarcasm).  He’s not bad himself and has cute kids and a cool wife.
  • Our Jack o’ Lantern from the previous post won second place in a contest.  $50 gift certificate, here I come!
  • Saw Shopgirl and loved it.  Check out Hannah‘s and Nate‘s reviews.
  • Started reading The Divine Conspiracy by Dallas Willard.  I’ve never read Willard, but a lot of the guys I do read have read Willard.  For some reason I pictured him with a fluffy beard and frizzy ‘fro and a twinkle in his eye with a sly grin.  I was not prepared for the book jacket.  He looks like a Southern Baptist preacher.  Book is great though, but not one you fly through.
  • Student loans are the bane of my existence.
  • So is the youth camp set design.
  • Liza’s having an open house this weekend and some of her family is coming to visit.  So, if you’re doing something on Saturday and would like some company, let me know.
  • St. Rob needed a book reference for Wishful Thinking.  I couldn’t find Ronnie’s copy so I went to purchase one because I wanted one for myself.  I discovered that it was first in a trilogy.  So, I bought the second one entitled Whistling in the Dark: a Doubter’s Dictionary.  You know what that means?
  • MORE BUECHNER QUOTES!

I heard those moans and groans.  And I understand.  I would like to assure you that I have learned from my previous Buechner posts (see Aug. 22 & 26) and will simply present them here one at a time.  this will work much better because they are longer than in Wishful Thinking.  Also, I have heard it remarked that some people weren’t sure they agreed with all of his quotes I put on here previously and if I agreed with them as well.  Let me say that he and I don’t always agree, but I do like the way he says things and appreciate what he has to say as well.  If nothing else they are though provoking.  So after I share a quote I will then share my own thoughts.

Now, without further ado, the first quote:

Alcoholics Anonymous
    … A.A. is the name of a group of men and women who acknowledge that addiction to alcohol is ruining their lives.  Their purpose in coming together is to give it up and help others do the same.  They realize they can’t pull this off by themselves.  They believe they need each other, and they believe they need God.  The ones who aren’t so sure about God speak instead of their Higher Power.
    When they first start talking at a meeting, they introduce themselves by saying, “I am John.  I am an alcoholic,” “I am Mary.  I am an alcoholic, ” to which the rest of the group answers each time in unison, “Hi, John, ” “Hi, Mary.”  They are apt to end with the Lord’s Prayer or the Serenity Prayer.  Apart from that they have no ritual.  They have no hierarchy.  They have no dues or budget.  They do not advertise or proselytize.  Having no buildings of their own, they meet wherever they can.
    Nobody lectures them, and they do not lecture each other.  They simply tell their own stories with the candor that anonymity makes possible.  They tell where they went wrong and how day by day they are trying to go right.  They tell where they find the strength and understanding and hope to keep trying.  Sometimes one of them will take special responsibility for another…  There’s not much more to it than that, and it seems to be enough.  Healing happens.  Miracles are made.
    You can’t help thinking that something like this is what the Church is mean to be and maybe once was before it got to be Big Business.  Sinners Anonymous.  “I can will what is right but I cannot do it, “is the way Saint Paul put it, speaking for all of us.  “For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do” (Romans 7:19).
    “I am me.  I am a sinner.”
    “Hi, you.”
    …  No matter what far place alcoholics end up in… they know that there will be an A.A. meeting nearby to go to and that at that meeting they will find strangers who are not strangers to help and to heal, to listen to the truth and to tell it.  That is what the Body of Christ is all about.
    Would it ever occur to Christians in a far place to turn to a Church nearby in hope of finding the same?  Would they find it?  If not, you wonder what is so Big about the Church’s Business.

I feel like I have beat up on churches a little bit, so I will refrain from doing so here.  Instead, I’d like to comment a bit on A.A.

I’ve been fascinated with A.A. for a number of reasons.  There are twelve steps in the program.  You can look them all up online for yourself.  However, there are three that have always troubled me.  They are as follows:

8.      Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.
9.      Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.
10.    Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.

Why are these troubling to me?  Simple.  I don’t know if I can do them.  I’ve tried before and am not very successful.  Blame it on pride or guilt or shame or anxiety or fear or whatever.  I can’t always seem to get those things out.  I want to.  I have a long list.  And I’m learning more and more that I need to.  It’s important.

I’m sorry for not showing Erin Sterling the doorway of Christ and instead making him a barrier by telling her that if she didn’t stick to my view of Christianity then she was going to hell.  I’m sorry for ditching Josh Miller and Randy Rossie and Susan Rigby and Anne and Erica and Chuck and Aubre and everybody else just because I couldn’t reconcile being friends with those who didn’t live like I thought they should.  I’m sorry for betraying Stephanie Easley the minute Melissa Parker said she wanted to go to prom with me.  I’m sorry for not being a good roommate to Wes Tankersley and Kyle Thompson.  I’m sorry for not working harder in school.  I’m sorry not talking more about Jesus.  I’m sorry to every girl I’ve ever dated or even gone out with because none of them went very well.  But I’m sorry especially to Ami, Joy and  Monika for all the manipulation and disrespect.  I’m sorry for not listening to Craig.  I’m sorry for being stubborn and depressed and moody all the time.  I’m sorry for fighting with my parents.  I’m sorry for not appreciating those true friends I have.  I’m sorry I’m not as good as I want to be or as talented as I want to be or as successful as I want to be or as honest as I want to be or as open as I want to be.

This doesn’t complete those steps, but at least it is a step in and of itself.

I am Chris.  I am a sinner.

Label Maker

October 20, 2005 in Books, Church, Conviction, Friends, Movies, Random, Writing, xanga 16

Sarah Mac sent me one of the funniest videos I have ever seen.  However, I can’t figure out how to get it on my site.  So, if you wanna see it, you’ll have to contact one of us to get it.

In other news, this post promises to be long but still on the same lines of stuff I’ve been thinking about with a few other things thrown in.

I’ve picked up A New Kind of Christian again.  I never got completely through it the first time I tried to read it awhile back.  The reason is that I was probably sick of hearing the term post-modern.  But I’ll get to more on that in a moment.

First, here is a picture of the first bloom of the first plant I planted at our house.

Pretty cool, huh?  It’s called a Texas Star.  I will accept no boasting about this from any of you Texans.  I do not believe the splendor of this flower is linked to it being named after your ego-bloated state.  Of course, I’m from Mississippi and live in Alabama so maybe I’m just jealous (though unlikely).

Now, I’m about to get back to the whole “me being sick of hearing about post-modernism” in a second, but first let me give this disclaimer:  I realize that many times my posts can get kinda long.  That it is an act of ego for me to ask you to read that.  However, my hope is that I might find companions along this journey.  In no way are my thoughts here really fully fleshed out.  I write on this site and get my thoughts out in other arenas so that I can work through them.  In a counseling session once, my counselor made me write all I was involved in and worried about on a chalkboard.  He then made me spend most of the session standing with my nose against the chalkboard to illustrate my approach to life.  Excuse the term, but often I am “balls to the wall.”  I have to slow down and step back in order to get the big picture of things.  Xanga helps with this.  So, there you go.  I could tell you about how I made the comment Sunday morning in RBF about why do we get up in arms at the suggestion that Mary Magdalene did what women have been doing for millenia and had a child by Christ.  Of course, I don’t believe this happened, but in the context this thought was not completely fleshed out and I’m sure I left a couple of people at least wondering what I do think on the subject.  (If you want me on the record, you’ll have to ask me in person so I can fully explain myself).  Disclaimer ended.

Post-modern is a label.  We’re given many labels my many people.  We’ve been talking about this around Student Life because of a creative opener we’re planning for the conferene tour.  I was also thinking about this with regard to a monologue I was writing recently for a curriculum lesson.  Recently, some of the labels I have been given or that have been discussed about me are as follows: 1. Introverted intuitive thinking perceiver  2.  Liberal  3. Sensitive  4. Cool  5. Pompous  6. Out of shape  7. Creative  8. Good  9. Hard  10. Stressed.  And the list continues.

Now the question arises, “do I fit those labels?”  Perhaps I do.  In fact, probably most certain I do.  This may surprise you, particularly the “liberal” part.  But the truth is that in some situations on some issues (political or theological) it could be said that I’m liberal.  However, therein lies the actuality.  That part you read that said “in some situations.”  Actually, there are times where I defy all of these labels, even that one you get from a personality test.  But labeling is very important to us.  It helps us categorize everyone and everything as well as ourselves.  It puts our world in order so we know how to respond to it and how to live in it.  But when we get honest with ourselves, we realize just how disorderly it really is.  So, it all boils down to labeling simply being comfortable to us, a security blanket in the cold, dark nights of the soul.

I mentioned that monologue I was writing.  I wrote it for a lesson on Elijah, where he flees the wrath of the king and God has to provide for him while he’s out on his own.  The lesson is about how even when we’re alone God is always with us.  I thought it would help portray the idea if we didn’t produce a sketch for the lesson, but rather made it one person on stage, talking all by themselves.  This turned very personal for me, because with regard to where I am in my journey (spiritual journey?  yes, i realize that any journey I’m on has to be spiritual because I am completely and wholly affected by the spiritual) I often am lonely.  Many of you probably suppose that isn’t fair.  After all, I have a wife, a life-long companion.  I have a job I think I’m good at where I work with people that are much more than co-workers and are actual friends.  I have a community of faith that, regardless of how much I struggle with it, is God’s plan for His kingdom on Earth.  It seems at least that I have a real relationship with God because of how much I think, write, and talk about it.

All this is true, absolutely.  But I find it difficult to discuss this.  Again, that’s why I write it here.  Who really wants to listen?  I’ve always felt different, but if I’m honest, not good different, like innovative or something.  But bad different, odd, strange, queer (not gay).  I worry that if I talk to people or seek help for the stuff that I actually do spend the majority of my time thinking about, they’ll get sick of me.  “Oh, Kinsley, man, he’s too worried about it.  He takes everything too seriously.  He’s too spriritual.  He’s too much of a seeker.  He’s too much of a doubter.  He’s immature in his faith.”  Etc.

So, I don’t.  Talk about it I mean.  I kinda talk about it here and maybe to a few individuals.  Kinda hint at it, I guess, is more like it.

I was thinking lately about this problem, because for me it has defninitely become a problem.  I’d like a solution, a community of people not like minded, unless that mind is of Christ, but who will talk, and listen, and help.  Ideally, I say I’d like it to be like what I imagine they had in the first century, right after Christ ascended.  But the truth is I have to imagine that because I’m not even sure what it is.  None of us are.  We’re too far removed and we’ve interpreted everything through our own lenses, or worldviews or experiences.  They (those early Christians) didn’t leave us that much about it specifically.  We got some hints and some offices from Paul that might help organize the church (interestingly, though, how many of those offices exist in your church?) and he wrote to some churches to tell them some stuff to avoid and to love each other and stuff.  They didn’t seem to be so concerned about it.  Why?  Because Jesus said he was coming back.  That’s what they focused on.  So, here we are with completely different focuses just floundering around.  But, believe me, I don’t have any answers, so some say I should just shut up.

This brings me to my book.  It’s working title is He Had a Face.  This title comes from something that happened to me in college.  There was a class we Christian Studies majors had to take called “The Teachings of Jesus.”  Jokingly students said that Jesus himself couldn’t pass the class.  It was taught by a professor named Dr. Greene who preferred being called “Big G” though I never could.  He was too intimidating.  He was a professor who actually expected more out of us than we did out of ourselves.  I walked in to “Teachings” on the first day of class and took my customary seat on the side, in the back, near one of the doors.  Dr. Greene came in, turned off the lights, pulled down a white screen, and turned on a slide projector.  He then went through numerous slides depicting Jesus in various forms of art from various regions and various time periods.  He would pause for a number of seconds on each slide and simply make the statement, “he had a face.”

I was at a conference with Brennan Manning a few years back.  He asked us to, as a spiritual exercise, picture Jesus for a moment and our interaction with him, literally.  What does he say to us?  What do we say to him?  This was to give us insight into how we perceived him more than get us in touch with him personally.  I realized that my “Jesus” had a body and long hair and wore a robe and everything, but I could never see his face.  It was always obscured in shadow.  I might get the vague feeling that he was smiling or looking at me or whatever, but I never knew for sure because I couldn’t see his face.  My mind wouldn’t let me give him one, whether it be Jewish, Anglo, or American.  I couldn’t do it because I don’t know what he looked (looks) like.  It just seemed inappropriate for me to randomly assign a face to him.  But most of us do it all the time.

He had a face.  He did.  According to my theology and faith, he still does.  I know people who have claimed to have seen it, which is great for them.  What this idea tells me though, is that ever since he walked this earth, we’ve been interpreting Jesus for ourselves through ourselves.  Our art is a reflection of that.  But he is real and exists.  He’s saved me and loves me and walks with me.  He’s sent his spirit to me as another helper, like him.  He reflects the father to me.  But who is he? 

I realize the last thing the world needs is another book on Jesus.  Why not just read the Gospels for the rest of your life?  No, really, why not?  That’s why this “book” will probably never exist for anyone except me.  It’s my journey and I want to know him, not anyone’s idea of him.  I would much rather you know him too, instead of my idea of him.  Somewhere, in the midst of the Gospel writers’ idea of him and Paul’s idea of him and our own experience of him, back behind all that and motivating all that and inspiring all that is Jesus.  If they got it right, he’s under our noses, dying, literally, to be known by us.  If they got it right, also, he intends for us to help each other along the way.  Won’t you help me.  I need it.

On a side note, for all of you who will be supporting the Narnia movie this December while condemning Harry Potter, you might want to consider that Lewis has said Narnia is not an allegory, it is rather a supposing.  Also, he started it with an image of a fawn walking through the snow in the light of a street light in the forest carrying a stack of books and an umbrella.  That’s an image he had since he was a child.  That began the project, not the intention to illustrate the Gospel for children, or us for that matter.  It’s more a testimony to the Holy Spirit’s work in his life that it does.  Funny, how Harry Potter might could be used for the same thing, if only we were willing to think about it.

Go ahead.  Call me a liberal.

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