Ruth

Recently, I've been reading through some of the old testament books in hope to reconnect with some of the old and "Seriously? I've never heard of that" stories. I skipped past the book of Moses (though I know there are scads of stories and tidbits I don't know about) and took off with Joshua, finishing up through Ruth most recently.

Ruth, a book I had previously struggled with to find lasting value, grabbed hold of my mind this time through. Ruth's devotion to her mother-in-law, Naomi, slid by as a point of truth I've heard too many times to interest me. However, between the two I came to another gem.

After losing her sons, Naomi is heading back to her homeland. Ruth, the wife of one her Naomi's sons, is ready to travel with her away from everything she knows. Here we find the most famous passage from the book--"Your people will be my people, your God my God." This comes after naomi suggests that Ruth stay with her people, to return to her former way of life. "Your reason for associating with me is gone, so why don't you return to what you know," is the kind of idea I've been playing with for a while. I believe that Naomi suggested Ruth stay in Moab (her home country) for noble and kind reasons, but I this idea of changing between different ways of life has stuck with me.

Why do people join churches? Reasons abound, but what interests me is how they are treated when they come. Do "God's people" ever suggest returning to an older way of life. I hope not, but I'd bet my toenails that it happens all the time in the nonverbals, indirect comments. Had Ruth listened to Naomi, she would not have gone down in history as David's great-grandmother, she would likely have not stayed familiar with the God of Israel, she would have gone back to a Moabite's way of life (Moab was often in conflict with Israel), and her soul may have been lost. Tragically, not everybody, I'd say most, who come through the church doors are looking for stability, to lose something in their life as well as gain something. This transplanting of lives takes time and leaves people mighty fragile as they search, question, wonder, and crave. A line from Wislawa Szymborska's poem "A Contribution to Statisics:"

"Out of a hundred people...

righteous

-thirty-five, which is a lot,

righteous

and understanding

-three

worthy of compassion

-ninety-nine"

Rage is Sad

On the corner next to the downtown movie theater, there frequently stands a man with a cross. Every Saturday night, members from a local church stand downtown and preach out warnings to those who might indulge in the less classy forms of entertainment. Typically, I hear a cross-wielding man say things like, "Think of the things you can catch from just one night of pleasure. Is it worth it?"

I've always thought it a weird thing to preach about in front of the movie theater. If that's the message, I'd mosey down to the strip club a few blocks away.

Regardless of the message or the methodology, I feel a sense of pity and admiration. First of all, they are acting on something they feel is right. In a way they have deemed appropriate, they stand at the corner and throw out John the Baptist's message of "Repent." For that, I admire.

This last weekend, though, I began the feel the pity. Often, this preacher is approached by the rudest of the rude. They laugh, swear, mock, question. As my wife and I walked by on the way to see X-Men Origins: Wolverine (I'll talk about this tomorrow), I heard the voice of the angriest observer.

"Where the fuck did Adam and Ever come from?"

There was nothing casual about the question. It was yelled, spat out in contempt. A friend added, "Where did God come from?"

"Yeah," the antagonist yelled. "Where the fuck did God come from?"

The man with the cross (more admiration) didn't get angry at all. He responded with quick little bits that his attackers wouldn't hear.

As I walked on, the pity fell on me. These scoffers won't listen. They never will. They are likely to never accept the idea that God has always been and will always be. They aren't looking for truth. They search for the lies and the lies only. For what reasons I don't know. Unless the receive a Paul-esque experience (the Almighty Christ knocking them to the ground and blinding them), they are likely to stand outside of the new Jerusalem and still bellow, "Where did you come from?"

Springtime Mornings

Today was absolutely gorgeous. It kills me I don't carry my camera every day. The eastern horizon was tangerine-raspberry fire that spread through the clouds. In the west, a full rainbow arched across the last of the gray rainclouds. Little sprinkles of water fell on me, but I never got wet. The birds were whispering to each other, sharing secrets, and the smell of rain gave me a hug.

Belief Structure

I had a student ask me in class once, "What do you believe?"

I assumed she meant faith-wise and answered, "That's a big question."

She helped me out a little by asking if I was Catholic or Baptist or some other denomination. So I told her I was a Seventh-day Adventist. But it bothered me that I couldn't really get into it that much. A person's belief structure is so much more than the church they attend and the scriptures they read. The experiences, people, situations they encounter and find themselves in shape what they think of life, the universe, and everything.

Because it's Friday, it only seems right to begin with my belief in rest. I believe that we are created (another belief to be explored later) to break down if we don't take time to stop. A lot of people believe this, hence the concept of a weekend that many people get to take advantage of regardless of religion or spirituality. But even with this weekend, people need to really unplug.

Enter the Sabbath. Since the beginning of their recorded history, Jews have kept every seventh day as a day of rest with guidelines about what people should and should not be able to do. Growing up, of course, these "limitations" from the Bible were just that. But as I work and stress and strive and fret, removing the sense of obligation from my life for 24 hours is the most rejuvenating experience. There could be no way I could last from week to week without taking time out and focus on what God has provided for me.

I struggle with some Sabbath issues still. Are there things that I should be giving up ever Saturday? For now, though, I need to hone in on God for my strength, from there, "the things of earth will grow strangely dim in the light of his glory and grace."

Turkey Day...Hmm...

I've heard it before, but this year it seems to be showing up more frequently.

"Happy Turkey Day."

It was kind of amusing at first, but over time and with an increase of it's use, the phrase has started to bother me. Thanksgiving should be for just that: giving thanks. It's a small thing, but with the "Turkey Day" references on the rise, I worry about the holiday. It has been a favorite of mine, in fact probably the favorite, so it pains me to have this happening. I know that there won't be a total sweep across the nation, but where most people don't look to the bright side of things and struggle to be appreciative of anything, I hate seeing the term "Thanksgiving" fade.

Also, I have felt that Thanksgiving has been one of the least commercialized holiday we have. And though I think that will still be the case (as Christmas dominates the last quarter of the year), I don't want the day to be more about food and (I hate the name) Black Friday.

So slay the turkey talk and move on to loving what's around you. For me it's

A fire in the fireplace
My cat half-sleeping, half-purring in my lap
My in-laws in my house (because mine are awesome)
My job and the students that make me laugh
Aikido
Movies that conjure memories and fantasy (Big Fish especially)
My friends that I see almost every week that I never get tired of
A guitar that makes me live despite my ability to fully utilize it
My Bible in which I love to find new things that make me feel like God is smiling at me

And these are just some things that are recent obsessions.

Odd Little Spiritual Insight

I preach at my church from time to time (once a month for now), and I was trying to think of something to say for one of my weekends. I don't know where it came from but, I think that Satan is just like my cat. For those of you who don't like cats, this comparison is nothing knew. In fact, I think cats are the animals that are most frequently compare to the devil. But the epiphany hit me (it didn't hurt too bad though) like this.

Everyday I get up and get ready for my day, and before I leave the house, I looked moderately spiffy. On most days, but especially those when I wear black pants, my cats decides to rub against my leg, leaving a trail of orange a white hair that can never be gotten off by just the brush of a hand. The hair, of course, represents sin and all of its annoying traits: it seems harmless but you don't want others to notice, and you can't just shake yourself free of it.

The analogy goes on to compare the Holy Spirit to a lint roller or something like that. But I won't bother describing that.