Who do we think we are?
Literally.
Our very inner personhood is dramatically masked behind our outer ego. We wear layers of fabric with fancy knick-knacks, brand names, and quasi-art. We place our language ahead of ourselves, verbs and adjectives, nouns and pronouns, articulate jargon and the vulgar tongue of our current period. In front of our language, we allow our feelings and anxieties to march along in proud lines, straight and attentive. Yet, behind it all, we have personhood, who God created us to be. And in the midst of the dark and dreary human condition of spiraling disappointment, despair, and deadly desires of our fallen and crooked world we lose that little piece of us still aligned with our creator. And thus, we hide from our very identity and whisper of it in the shadows, a dream that now seems too good to be true.
In spite of the horrid words we say, the silly and frivolous things we do, and the empty promises we make, there is, and will be, a heaven.
A heaven.
What is heaven? It's where our vulgar and veiling habits pale, they fade, their unreality becomes the shadows and specters that they truly are. And there, finally, we can become real, more real than we were before. Our inability to be as real as him floats away, falls off like scales and dust. We become less of our individuality and more like Christ-followers.
I thought about heaven driving yesterday, a place I've never been and want so dearly to be. How easy it is to be proud of where you want to be, and how hard it is when you're somewhere foreign or hostile to such an idea. Isn't that sad? Here I am, a proud citizen of my Lord and Savior's kingdom, and in the coming of battle or conflict I fade into oblivion our of sheer cowardice and suddenly realize my allegiance was never completely to Him, for I kept a piece of myself behind.
One always must preach with conviction, whether by method of life or by the words we say. It is by the grace and love of God that we carry on, but lest we forget our maker and His lifting of us, we must mark Him upon our hearts, wear Him upon our lips, and tattoo Him upon our very being, a marker of His territory upon our hearts.
I love Him. Just not very well. What a great Father to forgive a chump like me!
Even Elephants Forget
Love you all too! Sleep tite
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
A Second Leg
A person close to myself mentioned recently that my last post was...well...a bit harsh lets say. She insinuated that the language was sharp and the message somewhat bitter and brash. For the last couple days I've thought about that, pondered it, prayed about it, and somehow I've actually found the time to respond.
I stand by what I wrote. Completely. However, I stand behind it like a one-legged man stands besides a brick wall...one leggedly. In that sense I feel that my message did not fail, nor state something wrong or heretical (much less utterly honest) rather, it was incomplete, underfed, and...well...
one legged.
We have given ourselves to our idols; daily. Not merely our greed, our lust, and our "college culture morality" but also our facetiousness, our prejudice, and even our sloth. Everyday we succumb to mere animalistic pleasures, to our own poor inclinations, and the easy paths we pave across unstable grounds. The thing is, many of us have given up on our God via our methods and actions and have allowed these 'foreign deities' to become our objects of worship thru unholy sacraments of our many sins and trespasses. Still, I see others, some figments of the media, some close friends, and even the guy writing this garbage.
Yeah, me too.
None of us are acting like grace matters. We cry for comfort and rest, but what we really mean by that is that we want to be sedated, numbed, pumped full of anaesthesia and laughing gas in the fashion of a Houdini. We're Christians, not escapists. For how down-trodden and vapidly wretched this earth is, our catharsis will be (and is) very short lived if we are embracing our very limited (not to mention cheap and powerless) resources of hap and laugh. There's nothing wrong enjoying a beer or two, indulging upon a pizza, or wrapping one's arms around their beloved, but it is when we have exalted these goods to the highest of peaks that we have begun the construction of our own Mt. Olympus and it's precious, but shoddy, Parthenon of knick-knack gods, bubbly and empty-headed nymphs, and angels of dissension and disdain.
And that's why we need grace. That's why grace matters. Until we can accept His hands as our guide, and until we can honestly admit the dirt and filth we have not only swallowed but have considered a feast and have venerated as such, is just what it really is; until then we cannot accept grace whatsoever.
As for grace...what an amazing thing! John 10:10 states that the thief comes only to kill and steal, but that Christ comes that others may have life. That's the thing about these idols we have fallen to venerate; they don't come to us, we must come to them. Christ reverses this, in fact, he comes to us. He knocks at the door and beckons us to answer and let Him in. He asks us to set Him upon our highest place, to offer Him our praise and daily devotion. We cannot serve two masters, we cannot sing two songs, our hearts cannot be aligned to two polar opposites.
And thus we come back to heaven. We come back to the only thing that can truly satisfy our hearts. This is why I miss heaven. I'm sick of screwing up, I'm sick off worshiping mythological gods and goddesses and following their empty rituals. I hate our modern temples of capitalism, ambiguous lust, and empty evenings devoid of moral intentions. That's the other leg of it all.
What a great Savior!
I stand by what I wrote. Completely. However, I stand behind it like a one-legged man stands besides a brick wall...one leggedly. In that sense I feel that my message did not fail, nor state something wrong or heretical (much less utterly honest) rather, it was incomplete, underfed, and...well...
one legged.
We have given ourselves to our idols; daily. Not merely our greed, our lust, and our "college culture morality" but also our facetiousness, our prejudice, and even our sloth. Everyday we succumb to mere animalistic pleasures, to our own poor inclinations, and the easy paths we pave across unstable grounds. The thing is, many of us have given up on our God via our methods and actions and have allowed these 'foreign deities' to become our objects of worship thru unholy sacraments of our many sins and trespasses. Still, I see others, some figments of the media, some close friends, and even the guy writing this garbage.
Yeah, me too.
None of us are acting like grace matters. We cry for comfort and rest, but what we really mean by that is that we want to be sedated, numbed, pumped full of anaesthesia and laughing gas in the fashion of a Houdini. We're Christians, not escapists. For how down-trodden and vapidly wretched this earth is, our catharsis will be (and is) very short lived if we are embracing our very limited (not to mention cheap and powerless) resources of hap and laugh. There's nothing wrong enjoying a beer or two, indulging upon a pizza, or wrapping one's arms around their beloved, but it is when we have exalted these goods to the highest of peaks that we have begun the construction of our own Mt. Olympus and it's precious, but shoddy, Parthenon of knick-knack gods, bubbly and empty-headed nymphs, and angels of dissension and disdain.
And that's why we need grace. That's why grace matters. Until we can accept His hands as our guide, and until we can honestly admit the dirt and filth we have not only swallowed but have considered a feast and have venerated as such, is just what it really is; until then we cannot accept grace whatsoever.
As for grace...what an amazing thing! John 10:10 states that the thief comes only to kill and steal, but that Christ comes that others may have life. That's the thing about these idols we have fallen to venerate; they don't come to us, we must come to them. Christ reverses this, in fact, he comes to us. He knocks at the door and beckons us to answer and let Him in. He asks us to set Him upon our highest place, to offer Him our praise and daily devotion. We cannot serve two masters, we cannot sing two songs, our hearts cannot be aligned to two polar opposites.
And thus we come back to heaven. We come back to the only thing that can truly satisfy our hearts. This is why I miss heaven. I'm sick of screwing up, I'm sick off worshiping mythological gods and goddesses and following their empty rituals. I hate our modern temples of capitalism, ambiguous lust, and empty evenings devoid of moral intentions. That's the other leg of it all.
What a great Savior!
Friday, September 18, 2009
Eatting Our Own Filth
No one drives in construction.
I remember a few years ago, Melissa and I were driving down some back country roads in the Jamestown area. After going to visit a friend's newborn baby boy we said our goodbyes, got in my decrepit yet cozy 1986 duct-tape gray Taurus, and started heading out as the sun set behind the horizon, covering the grassy hills in total darkness. So, I was behind the wheel, talking together, paying little attention where we were actually going, after all, eventually we would find our way out. Suddenly, a road sign, an orange flash, a construction sign. She smiled and reassured me, hey, it's Michigan, they're always filling in a couple potholes, no big deal. As we drove my headlights shook as my tires hit a massive bump, THUD! The pavement road without warning became a vast, indiscernible stretch of mud, stones, and gravel, not an inch of concrete or asphalt in sight.
Not cool.
I leaned over the steering wheel, hunching over it and squinting in a desperate attempt to grasp any apparent obstacles in the road. She stared back at me, stating how bad an idea this was and how she really didn't trust my driving abilities. Confidence builder right there, folks. As she mentioned this as I attempted to shrug off the last remark we watched as a massive concrete pillar passed inches away from the hood of my car. Luckily, in the next mile we eventually got back on solid pavement with very few other close calls.
Next time, it would be wise to pay attention to bright orange signs on a dark, desolate country road. Lesson learned.
But we don't. It's kills me to see people driving into the dark places, all the while ignoring the hunter's orange warning we have in our very midst. Can our hearts and souls truly fly under the banner of His kingdom when our desires and misconceived conceptions of joys have blinded our better judgements to the graces of God.
We have satisfied our lives with the merest and most humble of trinkets and knick-nacks, plastic coins and counterfeits dollars, imitations and illusions. We have offered sacrifices to Bacchus and Aphrodite and have somehow asked their graces to justify the lust and devious lifestyles we choose to live. And we have made it alright, in fact, natural, based upon such a fickle allegiance. And each day we prove it. This world was not created by a loving God, no. We have affirmed time and time again by our midnight festivals of greed and excess and glorious antics that our world belongs to Eros and Dionysus, our actions are mere rituals to our pagan idols, our hearts are corrupted and pump their luxury to feed our longings, and our God is nothing more than a joke or, at best, a brand name of ideology which we have complete choice to remove, to hide, or to completely disown when necessary for our own selfish gain of status, of sex, of solution. We have profaned what is holy, we have taken God gifts and converted them and twisted them into weapons of scorn and disgrace. We live, we die, we hang desperately on every inch of sex, of pleasure, of anything we can certainly get our hands on, or at least envision and dream of such, in that process we have lost our God and when we cry out to him, we have realized the most horrible thing;
We forgot His very name.
I miss heaven. I have never been there, but I dearly miss it right now. I miss the lack of hedonism, I miss the open spaces, I miss the warm hearts and the loving eyes, I miss seeing Christ glow unheeded in every person by their every word and movement. I miss that feeling of waking up after a good night's sleep, feeling the covers wrapped around your legs as they stretch between lays of linen as the sun gently pushes itself through the thin blinds. Poison is flowing as freely as we breath and eat and sleep. We are ingesting our own filth and vermin, swimming in our feces and vomit, with the dreadful lack of realization that we can no longer live in the shadow of probity or morality; we enjoy the dark places better. We enjoy the muck and the grime, it has become our home and soon it comes...yes...that the simple pleasures of the underbelly push aside the grandest heavens and the most joyful promises of salvation, for the wallowing and the eating of trash is suddenly our feast. We have been offered a cash for clunkers deal and have turned it down, foolishly finding sentiment and enjoyment in our old, rusted rigs.
I'm sorry if I step on toes, or if I'm too straight-forward, or too old-fashioned and, dare I say, sectarian here, but here's what is killing me; we have so much need for sex and a drunken night and for lust and supposed love and our greed that we forget to ask the two main questions anyone should ask about any action...how and why is this fulfilling my personhood? Are we truly being fulfilled by such simple, clay vessels? Is this truly the glory of God, the emulation and actualization of such pagan idols we've grown so far of. Can the banner of God fly over such a dump as this?
Grace is prevalent, grace is perfect, grace will never forsake us, never let us down, never let us go. God will ALWAYS be there fore His children, who suffer through hardships, who miss their heavenly homes. Who struggle with numerous sufferings, who fear the possible affects of sickness and affliction, who have lost their income and are desperate to find a way to feed their families. God is there. Grace is there.
Sadly, I have seen the unthinkable. Christians don't want grace. Not the one's I've seen. They want Eros, they want Bacchus, they want wine and folly, sex and sensuality, hedonism and all the pleasure of the world. In the deplorable vulgar terms not uncommon, they want to be touched in everywhich place in the most sacred of ways, they want to be wasted beyond recognition and to wake with fuzzy memories which in some strange metaphysical way means that "joy was in this place". Christianity may be fading in many parts of the modern world, but on the contrary, the Bacchae, the wild priestesses and priests of Dionysus who roamed his realm in drunken rage, devouring raw animal flesh and tearing apart innocent bystanders, it is this cult who is growing and multiplying quite nicely in the bars and clubs across America. The classics departments may be dwindling at universities across the board, yet the pagan gods are living quite well and are as popular as ever if we would only take a second to look. Christians want these gods, non-Christains the same want these gods. These gods are ruling our realm with a satisfying fist, and we suddenly find grace stuffy and prudish, boring and predictable, a concept or fine memory of childish religious lore with no place in our weekends (though church may offer an hour and a half of happy memory).
We don't want grace. Sadly, warning signs are posted, hell is a pillar on a torn road away. If we miss such warning we will awake some morning to find that years of aliengence to the underworld and our pagan gods has suddenly left us in a vapid state, that our hedonism has, rather than fill us, indebted us to our own unquenchable desires, desires which we only meant to be quenched by a heavenly ambrosia straight from Christ Himself. And then, at that moment, our lives will hold no meaning nor point, our faith will be at the last stage of antrophy and we will wish for "the good ol' days" where the cross held meaning, when life seemed purposeful, when community was centered on more than the local drink and love was something found mostly outsides of one's bedroom door. And then, at that moment, we will try to sip from grace and find its taste pungent to our wine-coated lips, and at that moment a hard road awaits, and sadly most will divert, toss their vile of grace, and find their vodka and gin a much more suitable cocktail.
Pity those who miss grace.
If you thirst for something, if you desire for more than evenings of pleasure which ends in empty dreams, then you miss heaven too.
Miss it with me.
I hope to see you on this earth. I hope even more to see you soon in the higher realm.
Love you all
I remember a few years ago, Melissa and I were driving down some back country roads in the Jamestown area. After going to visit a friend's newborn baby boy we said our goodbyes, got in my decrepit yet cozy 1986 duct-tape gray Taurus, and started heading out as the sun set behind the horizon, covering the grassy hills in total darkness. So, I was behind the wheel, talking together, paying little attention where we were actually going, after all, eventually we would find our way out. Suddenly, a road sign, an orange flash, a construction sign. She smiled and reassured me, hey, it's Michigan, they're always filling in a couple potholes, no big deal. As we drove my headlights shook as my tires hit a massive bump, THUD! The pavement road without warning became a vast, indiscernible stretch of mud, stones, and gravel, not an inch of concrete or asphalt in sight.
Not cool.
I leaned over the steering wheel, hunching over it and squinting in a desperate attempt to grasp any apparent obstacles in the road. She stared back at me, stating how bad an idea this was and how she really didn't trust my driving abilities. Confidence builder right there, folks. As she mentioned this as I attempted to shrug off the last remark we watched as a massive concrete pillar passed inches away from the hood of my car. Luckily, in the next mile we eventually got back on solid pavement with very few other close calls.
Next time, it would be wise to pay attention to bright orange signs on a dark, desolate country road. Lesson learned.
But we don't. It's kills me to see people driving into the dark places, all the while ignoring the hunter's orange warning we have in our very midst. Can our hearts and souls truly fly under the banner of His kingdom when our desires and misconceived conceptions of joys have blinded our better judgements to the graces of God.
We have satisfied our lives with the merest and most humble of trinkets and knick-nacks, plastic coins and counterfeits dollars, imitations and illusions. We have offered sacrifices to Bacchus and Aphrodite and have somehow asked their graces to justify the lust and devious lifestyles we choose to live. And we have made it alright, in fact, natural, based upon such a fickle allegiance. And each day we prove it. This world was not created by a loving God, no. We have affirmed time and time again by our midnight festivals of greed and excess and glorious antics that our world belongs to Eros and Dionysus, our actions are mere rituals to our pagan idols, our hearts are corrupted and pump their luxury to feed our longings, and our God is nothing more than a joke or, at best, a brand name of ideology which we have complete choice to remove, to hide, or to completely disown when necessary for our own selfish gain of status, of sex, of solution. We have profaned what is holy, we have taken God gifts and converted them and twisted them into weapons of scorn and disgrace. We live, we die, we hang desperately on every inch of sex, of pleasure, of anything we can certainly get our hands on, or at least envision and dream of such, in that process we have lost our God and when we cry out to him, we have realized the most horrible thing;
We forgot His very name.
I miss heaven. I have never been there, but I dearly miss it right now. I miss the lack of hedonism, I miss the open spaces, I miss the warm hearts and the loving eyes, I miss seeing Christ glow unheeded in every person by their every word and movement. I miss that feeling of waking up after a good night's sleep, feeling the covers wrapped around your legs as they stretch between lays of linen as the sun gently pushes itself through the thin blinds. Poison is flowing as freely as we breath and eat and sleep. We are ingesting our own filth and vermin, swimming in our feces and vomit, with the dreadful lack of realization that we can no longer live in the shadow of probity or morality; we enjoy the dark places better. We enjoy the muck and the grime, it has become our home and soon it comes...yes...that the simple pleasures of the underbelly push aside the grandest heavens and the most joyful promises of salvation, for the wallowing and the eating of trash is suddenly our feast. We have been offered a cash for clunkers deal and have turned it down, foolishly finding sentiment and enjoyment in our old, rusted rigs.
I'm sorry if I step on toes, or if I'm too straight-forward, or too old-fashioned and, dare I say, sectarian here, but here's what is killing me; we have so much need for sex and a drunken night and for lust and supposed love and our greed that we forget to ask the two main questions anyone should ask about any action...how and why is this fulfilling my personhood? Are we truly being fulfilled by such simple, clay vessels? Is this truly the glory of God, the emulation and actualization of such pagan idols we've grown so far of. Can the banner of God fly over such a dump as this?
Grace is prevalent, grace is perfect, grace will never forsake us, never let us down, never let us go. God will ALWAYS be there fore His children, who suffer through hardships, who miss their heavenly homes. Who struggle with numerous sufferings, who fear the possible affects of sickness and affliction, who have lost their income and are desperate to find a way to feed their families. God is there. Grace is there.
Sadly, I have seen the unthinkable. Christians don't want grace. Not the one's I've seen. They want Eros, they want Bacchus, they want wine and folly, sex and sensuality, hedonism and all the pleasure of the world. In the deplorable vulgar terms not uncommon, they want to be touched in everywhich place in the most sacred of ways, they want to be wasted beyond recognition and to wake with fuzzy memories which in some strange metaphysical way means that "joy was in this place". Christianity may be fading in many parts of the modern world, but on the contrary, the Bacchae, the wild priestesses and priests of Dionysus who roamed his realm in drunken rage, devouring raw animal flesh and tearing apart innocent bystanders, it is this cult who is growing and multiplying quite nicely in the bars and clubs across America. The classics departments may be dwindling at universities across the board, yet the pagan gods are living quite well and are as popular as ever if we would only take a second to look. Christians want these gods, non-Christains the same want these gods. These gods are ruling our realm with a satisfying fist, and we suddenly find grace stuffy and prudish, boring and predictable, a concept or fine memory of childish religious lore with no place in our weekends (though church may offer an hour and a half of happy memory).
We don't want grace. Sadly, warning signs are posted, hell is a pillar on a torn road away. If we miss such warning we will awake some morning to find that years of aliengence to the underworld and our pagan gods has suddenly left us in a vapid state, that our hedonism has, rather than fill us, indebted us to our own unquenchable desires, desires which we only meant to be quenched by a heavenly ambrosia straight from Christ Himself. And then, at that moment, our lives will hold no meaning nor point, our faith will be at the last stage of antrophy and we will wish for "the good ol' days" where the cross held meaning, when life seemed purposeful, when community was centered on more than the local drink and love was something found mostly outsides of one's bedroom door. And then, at that moment, we will try to sip from grace and find its taste pungent to our wine-coated lips, and at that moment a hard road awaits, and sadly most will divert, toss their vile of grace, and find their vodka and gin a much more suitable cocktail.
Pity those who miss grace.
If you thirst for something, if you desire for more than evenings of pleasure which ends in empty dreams, then you miss heaven too.
Miss it with me.
I hope to see you on this earth. I hope even more to see you soon in the higher realm.
Love you all
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
In the Midst of Distraction
It's been a while...time flies when you're supposedly busy.
Christians are irking. Christians are easily distracted. It's no wonder the greater mass of philosophers have often looked at Christianity as a quasi-political, financial, or ignoramus social-structure whose assertion of power is only overshadowed by their ungrace and disgrace of those "sinners" who are so "different" from themselves. Sadly, there is a horrible and tradgic correlation often between one's adjective of Christianity and one's dilusion of purpose within the life of being a genuine, faith-driven Christ-follower. How easy it is to, despite our obvious commitment to adhere to God's Will and Word, to blind ourselves with self-agendas while we slowly alienate ourselves from the path Christ has called for us. In this way, we've become idol-worshipers whose concern is political and cultural (not that these do not have purpose) rather than primarily as a loyal citizen of God's kingdom. For example, abortion is never explicitly mentioned in the entire Bible yet often it becomes a halmark issue for the Christian community, we cry out "murder, murder" and create sarcastic phrases such as "How would you feel if you were aborted?" and such which only further divided the undecided and lost, the pregenant prostitute and the raped teenager. Yet, in the midst of such protest and petition, enraged speech and outright condemnation, have we yet realized that one of the most spoken topics in the entire Bible is in fact the horrors of the sin of greed? Yet, how often are we as Christians so happy to scream out the wrongs of abortion while our bank accounts are full and soon emptied on our own selfish desires rather than the world's suffering?
Here's the deal. We've destracted ourselves, we've let ourselves become totally blinded by our idealogies and have forgotten that our love and proclomation of the gospel, the "good news" (euangellos), is first and foremost concern in our lives rather than creating an earthly kingdom where we can remain comfortable. We are supposed to be proclaiming our savior in our schools, our jobs, our homes, and on our way throughout the world, as St. Francis says using words if our actions through our faith fail utterly. We are to proclaim. As Barth says in his Church Dogmatics;
"If the social work of the Church as such were to try to be proclamation, it could only become propaganda, and not very worthy propaganda at that. Genuine Christian love must always start back at the thought of pretending to proclamation of the love of Christ with it's only too human action." Church Dogmatics; Vol. 1, Sec. 3, pg. 50
Our social activism is meaningful and important, but in the midst of our political and cultural action, we cannot ignore the importance of our calling to truly bring Christ to the alienated and isolated. We cannot as Christ-followers continue to concern ourselves with our self-will and self-proclamation of our greatness and ideals while the gospel and love of Christ remains a dormant object, a resounding gong.
It doesn't matter what it is, if it is of this earth it is mere noise and racket unless such action proclames revelation to God and His perfect will. We have spent too much time complaining about political oppression, cultural shock, and even the supposed falling-short of our fellow Christians. In fact, we could fill sermon after sermon criticizing each other and our fallenness, and I am sure we would never come close to running out of material! But, is that what it means to be a Christ-follower? To proclaim something or someone other than Christ, His will, love, and work in us? Take a second. Think about it. In the midst of conforming to our Savior, we have tripped up again and in this way we have gone from abundance to decay and are now just realizing something is wrong with Christianity, and believe me, removing our educators, petitioning our government, or hiding our blasphemous greed is mere idolitry of this world rather than dedication to our Lord and Savior.
We must proclaim with our lives and our mouth first and foremost. Live your agendas and self-issues at the door. The truest servent of their Savior will let His Source flow living water through him or her rather than their own brilliance, arrogance, or proclamations.
Devote yourself to Him, He won't let you down.
Christians are irking. Christians are easily distracted. It's no wonder the greater mass of philosophers have often looked at Christianity as a quasi-political, financial, or ignoramus social-structure whose assertion of power is only overshadowed by their ungrace and disgrace of those "sinners" who are so "different" from themselves. Sadly, there is a horrible and tradgic correlation often between one's adjective of Christianity and one's dilusion of purpose within the life of being a genuine, faith-driven Christ-follower. How easy it is to, despite our obvious commitment to adhere to God's Will and Word, to blind ourselves with self-agendas while we slowly alienate ourselves from the path Christ has called for us. In this way, we've become idol-worshipers whose concern is political and cultural (not that these do not have purpose) rather than primarily as a loyal citizen of God's kingdom. For example, abortion is never explicitly mentioned in the entire Bible yet often it becomes a halmark issue for the Christian community, we cry out "murder, murder" and create sarcastic phrases such as "How would you feel if you were aborted?" and such which only further divided the undecided and lost, the pregenant prostitute and the raped teenager. Yet, in the midst of such protest and petition, enraged speech and outright condemnation, have we yet realized that one of the most spoken topics in the entire Bible is in fact the horrors of the sin of greed? Yet, how often are we as Christians so happy to scream out the wrongs of abortion while our bank accounts are full and soon emptied on our own selfish desires rather than the world's suffering?
Here's the deal. We've destracted ourselves, we've let ourselves become totally blinded by our idealogies and have forgotten that our love and proclomation of the gospel, the "good news" (euangellos), is first and foremost concern in our lives rather than creating an earthly kingdom where we can remain comfortable. We are supposed to be proclaiming our savior in our schools, our jobs, our homes, and on our way throughout the world, as St. Francis says using words if our actions through our faith fail utterly. We are to proclaim. As Barth says in his Church Dogmatics;
"If the social work of the Church as such were to try to be proclamation, it could only become propaganda, and not very worthy propaganda at that. Genuine Christian love must always start back at the thought of pretending to proclamation of the love of Christ with it's only too human action." Church Dogmatics; Vol. 1, Sec. 3, pg. 50
Our social activism is meaningful and important, but in the midst of our political and cultural action, we cannot ignore the importance of our calling to truly bring Christ to the alienated and isolated. We cannot as Christ-followers continue to concern ourselves with our self-will and self-proclamation of our greatness and ideals while the gospel and love of Christ remains a dormant object, a resounding gong.
It doesn't matter what it is, if it is of this earth it is mere noise and racket unless such action proclames revelation to God and His perfect will. We have spent too much time complaining about political oppression, cultural shock, and even the supposed falling-short of our fellow Christians. In fact, we could fill sermon after sermon criticizing each other and our fallenness, and I am sure we would never come close to running out of material! But, is that what it means to be a Christ-follower? To proclaim something or someone other than Christ, His will, love, and work in us? Take a second. Think about it. In the midst of conforming to our Savior, we have tripped up again and in this way we have gone from abundance to decay and are now just realizing something is wrong with Christianity, and believe me, removing our educators, petitioning our government, or hiding our blasphemous greed is mere idolitry of this world rather than dedication to our Lord and Savior.
We must proclaim with our lives and our mouth first and foremost. Live your agendas and self-issues at the door. The truest servent of their Savior will let His Source flow living water through him or her rather than their own brilliance, arrogance, or proclamations.
Devote yourself to Him, He won't let you down.
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