April 21, 2006
to make a long story short...
Though I was not baptized as a child nor taught much covenant theology, I am a “covenant child”. Some of my earliest memories are of my mother trying to explain to my 5-year old mind that God seeks a relationship with us. I recall asking God to "come into my heart" at that tender age. I recall later in childhood being riddled with doubts as to whether I had “done it right", or pushed the right set of spiritual buttons to secure my eternal destination. (It wasn’t obvious until later that this fear stemmed from a misplaced trust in my own ability to earn God’s favor.) My doubts began to wane at about age 15, when I answered another altar call, but this time made my decision in the presence of witnesses. This was my first lesson in the value of christian community.
As I got older, and my worldview got more complicated, I began to question the validity of some of the things I had been taught. Did being a christian mean intellectual suicide? Did it mean I had to like bad music? Why were all the christians on TV so weird? Of course, one can be smart—shrewd as a fox, even—and be a christian at the same time. After all, much greater minds than mine have believed. These things became clear in college, when some older, wiser, more intellectually astute friends invested in my spiritual life. This was my second lesson in the value of christian community.
This was also the time that I began to grasp Grace, as I began to see the depths of my own sin and my general inability to love well and to follow God faithfully. It took the hard lessons of broken relationships to reveal the beauty of Grace for a supposedly good kid like myself. And I began to see the importance of distinguishing between Christ and his sometimes flaky followers. What’s more, it was exactly that flakiness—and the full scope of our sin—that he came to redeem. And because he did not despise us for our sin, and instead chose to love us in spite of it, I am called to do the same (lesson #3 in the value of christian community).
Since those childhood encounters with God, I’ve have not been a good christian. But I have sensed God’s quiet, constant pursuit of me through it all, even as I’ve doubted and wandered. In the process I’ve come to see that the core of the Christian life is much more of a relationship than a philosophical or political position or a do-not-do list. And that God desires that we experience him in community with others. And that he alone gives me forgiveness, significance and purpose. Everything else is details.
April 20, 2006
When it rains...
This space is looking so empty these days. Strange that I'm unable to actually produce a blog of substance when my life is so full of things to blog about. But the clouds of busyness will soon part, and then I will give you all something to read that, like everything I write, will be true, poignant, and utterly riveting. For now, all I have time for is a Manuel report:
Youthful Leopard geckos have sensitive GI systems, and sometimes certain substances, if ingested, can cause fatal "impaction". This is a herpetological term for constipation. The fatal kind.
So when Mannie wasn't looking his best, I assumed the worst about my reptilian friend, as he seemed sluggish and pale. Faded, even. What's worse is that he became emotionally unavailable. Our normal fiery discourse was gone; he stopped hissing at me entirely, which prompted me to complain through tears that "I don't even know you anymore." But then he started stripping down and it's hard to be mad at an undresser.
Within a few hours, he had eaten his skin. All of it. And he looked like a whole new Manuel.