Is Change Really Possible?

 

    I used to believe that change was possible for everyone. That for someone going through hard times it wasn't that difficult to make their lives better. All they had to do was, well, change it. I was younger then, and the world was a very different place. I didn't know about relationships or loyalties, addictions or abuse, finances or psychology or personality types. What I knew was that we all had choices; we just had to make good ones. At the time, I was a twenty-one year old pastor who believed that Jesus could change anyone's story. (Come to church and see what God can do in your life!) I was so excited by this possibility that it consumed me. I spent every waking minute devising ways to communicate this life-altering message to people. I handed out tracts and knocked on doors. I held youth events and youth meetings. I spoke to old friends and made new ones. People came and went. Some bought into what I was saying and came to church and good things happened. Others came to church and heard mean things about who they were and why they weren't good enough and left. Through it all, I was steadfast in my principles. There was no such thing as being inappropriate when it came to sharing my beliefs, because I knew it could change a person's life.

I remember meeting an old high school acquaintance in the parking lot of our local shopping mall. He was sitting in his car with his girlfriend, and he smiled when I stopped by to say hello. Within minutes I'd handed him a pamphlet explaining my life-changing message. His face wrinkled up as if he'd tasted something sour, and his girlfriend rolled her eyes. "Uh, that's great, Steve." He quickly put his car in gear and drove away. I hoped he would listen to what I'd said, but it didn't really matter. Whether he accepted it or not, at least now he knew how he could change his life.

The thing about preaching change is that sometimes you forget your own life. You get so intent on changing other people's lives that you start to think your life is perfect. That you are perfect. I don't think it's intentional, I think it's human and inevitable. The result however, isn't pretty, because with everyone you meet you start to think how they need change and what they can do to be better. You never say it, or even think it, maybe, but what you're really wondering is how they can be more like you.

***

    My friend Naomi is studying to be a counselor. She's tall and pretty and when you tell her about your life her eyes get really big and she listens so well you feel good about yourself. She's studying emotional narrative and story as her counseling major; how changing someone's story can change their life. Sometimes I don't understand what she's saying because she's smart and uses words that make me squint, but when she talks about it I am reminded of my own time when I was in ministry. A time when I used to believe that people could change if they'd only accept my story for them.

    Last week we were talking on her balcony, sipping wine and ignoring the cold wind like we were real Canadians.

    "Do you think people change?" I asked her.

    "Well," She said. "Personalities don't change, but people can. It is, however, a slow process."

    "So how do you help people change?" I asked.

    "Mostly I listen. Then I try to help them deal with the emotional narrative they find themselves in, and change it."

    I thought about that for a while, because it seemed a different answer than the one I'd used to hand out with cartoons on the backs of little papers to friends and strangers. I was also worried that I didn't believe people could change anymore, which scared me, because if people couldn't change I wasn't sure why we existed.

***

    During the three years I worked as a full time pastor, I never considered changing my life. Not really. Oh, I made promises to God to be less angry and more humble and be more regular with my giving, but mostly I felt like I had things under control. Everyone told me what a great pastor I was going to be and how much potential I had. I figured I was a dynamic personality because I wasn't afraid of public speaking and occasionally made people laugh. So the day my wife left me, after only eleven months of marriage, was not only unexpected, it was earth shattering. Though I didn't know it, I was about to change, and it wasn't because I wanted to or thought I needed it or sensed God's voice. I was about to inherit a new story, one that didn't make sense to me at all, but it was impossible for me to walk away from it because that new story was my life.

***

    My best friend Mark has a great life. I love his story. Whenever I tell him something like that he tells me not to glamorize it. I try not to, but his story is infinitely more interesting than mine. He also happens to be Naomi's husband. I go to their apartment every Monday night for football and some important male bonding, but most of the time I end up talking to Naomi on the balcony about God and change and her clients and my clients. Mark and I talk about those things too, but on Monday nights he thinks we should be watching the game and usually he yells at us to come in and tells us that we should be watching the game. But that's easy for him to say, his life is more exciting than mine.

    Three weeks ago he told me that he noticed a homeless woman outside Food Basics, a low end grocery store in the north end of the city that my friends and I frequent quite often. He told her to come inside with him, gave her an empty basket, and told her to fill it up. She followed him around for a while, until he gently pushed her towards doing her own shopping. Mark downplayed it when he mentioned it to me, although he and Naomi are both students and don't have very much money. As a rule, I have to practically drag these stories out of him, but I do it because nothing like that ever happens to me. For a time last year I did a few Mark-offs, (which shouldn't be confused with Mad-offs) talking to homeless people and strangers and even helping a few of them. I felt alive and strange and new, but then I forgot to think about it before my day started and began realizing how little I had in my bank account and how I would never get ahead and stopped doing it. Nothing like it has happened to me since. Most days I do not feel alive or new, and I find that I think about the past a lot.

***

    For a time my ex-wife and I put our marriage back together. I realized how much I'd acted like a jerk and started writing columns about how men shouldn't act like jerks. I even got a few letters from people in different countries asking me for marital advice and felt good and important. I started teaching them how they needed to change. I'd done it. They could do it. All they needed to do was listen to what I said.

    It didn't last though, and when my wife and I decided that the marriage was not going to work we talked about it and cried together for a long time. I cried because I'd miss her and felt bad about the whole thing. I cried because I felt relief and felt guilty that I felt relieved. And I cried because I knew that whatever hope I had of being a Christian 'star' who'd put his marriage back together (a VERY good story), was over, and suddenly I didn't have a story to tell. I had nothing to say, especially when I looked in the mirror and realized that if the best stories involved change and character transformation, I was a pretty terrible character. And my story sucked.

***

    I met Bethany about a year and a half ago. She is the daughter of two missionaries and grew up in Ethiopia. When I met her I didn't know that. I saw a beautiful girl walk past me on my break outside the Starbucks where I was working and somehow made her smile. She gave me her phone number. Three weeks later we had the God talk and she told me part of her story. I fell in love pretty quick, and for some reason she did too, and we were married this past year.

    Bethany has a great story, although she doesn't think so. She is finishing the second year of her program to be a paramedic. It is the toughest medic program in the country, and most days she is very tired. But she goes on the ambulance now, and takes calls and helps people. Twice she has come home and told me that she did CPR to help bring someone back to life. On those days her eyes glow and she bounces on her toes when she walks. Other days she comes home sad because she sees suffering and death and the bereavement of family members. On those days I hold her and she is quiet. Most days though, she loves what she does and tells me about it. She tells me about people who throw up on her or the other medics, the problems they have with certain medical conditions, and the rich people who call the ambulance for a ride. She tells me and her eyes glow. When people ask me how I'm doing, I usually tell them about Bethany because I love her story, or I'll tell them about Mark and Naomi because I love their story too.

***

    Being divorced and trained to be a minister is not fun. There are some things you can do as a pastor, some things that can happen to you for you to still be accepted as a church leader, but divorce is not one of them. If your marriage breaks down, people are not that interested in what you're saying about change, because it doesn't seem like you have it all together. Why would I want to change and be like you? You screwed up your marriage! So I stopped being a minister. I worked in group homes for a while, though I spent most of my time at Masconi's, a small pub down the street. I would bring my huge writing binder and set it on the bar and work on my latest novel. Sometimes the other regulars would 'contribute' to my book, and the next day I would find a page or two of swearing and sex slipped between the pages. The guys thought it was hilarious, and I pretended to be a good sport though I was usually annoyed. I would sip my beer with them and try to explain that I was creating art. That craft was important. That to be lost in the whirls of thematic difficulty meant nothing if the reader was somehow wakened from the unconscious dream. They would pretend to listen for a few minutes before changing the subject to the Raptors and what I thought about Vince Carter.

    For a long time I'd believed that Jesus could change people, but when my marriage ended I realized that he hadn't changed me at all and that maybe it was all a bunch of goop. Maybe people couldn't change. Maybe God didn't care. Maybe I'd always be the jerk I felt like when I thought about how I'd been with my wife and how I'd been at church. If I couldn't be a pastor, I needed a new story, so I decided to be a writer. Even if I couldn't change, I still needed something to do. Something to embrace. I'd started writing years before, but now I tried to live the life that I thought a writer was supposed to live. I wrote every day, and drank coffee and liquor and smoked cigarettes because all writers did those things, or so I thought. Even then I realized it was only partly about the actual writing, and that my life – what gave it meaning – was what mattered. I figured that if I could just get published, my life would change and it would be okay. Eventually I did get published, though I never sold any of my books, but nothing really changed, and I only managed to sell a couple of articles.

***

    The novel I'm writing now is about a young boy who is awkward and doesn't think too highly of himself. He is tall and shy and can't read or fight. His parents were both very important, but his father is dead and his mother is missing. He thinks he is slow and dumb because that's what he's been called his whole life and doesn't know that it isn't true. I call him Josh.

    I like Josh a lot, and even though I'm creating the story I find myself cheering for him. Cheering for him to find a new story. To find his story. And no, he's not like me. He's quiet while I talk a lot, although I guess we respond that way for the same reason. I like that his life is one filled with adventure, though I don't envy some of the things he's gone through, because they seem so sad to me. I like it that he is making new friends even as he escapes a group that is trying to kill him, but I feel sorry for him because he is young and is often lonely. His story is exciting and fresh. Mine isn't.

***

    I never went back into ministry, although I still read about Jesus a lot. I like how he reaches out people around him, how he makes them feel welcome and how he loves them despite their faults. I like it because I hope that's how God sees me, because I don't have a very good story and sometimes I worry that I will never change.

I have a web site where I write about spiritual things and the church. A few weeks ago, one of my readers commented, at length, how I'd grown increasingly cynical and narrow minded the past two years. I thought about what he said for a long time because I thought he was right.

On my web site I complain a lot about the suffering and injustice of the world, and I expel a lot of righteous indignation at men who think they're better than women and people who think they're better than other people. What I don't say is that there is hope or that everything will be okay. I don't say it because I don't know it, and I think I complain because I wish I was better, or at least had a better story. Instead, I spend most of my time writing my novel about Joshua and training people in the gym who want to be fit. I prepare my wife's lunches and try to do most of the cleaning in our apartment because her schedule is so busy. She's grateful and warm and there isn't much I wouldn't do just to see her smile. I like being helpful, and often I feel guilty because I don't make very much money. I don't hang out in bars anymore, although I spend an inordinate amount of time at Starbucks because I like to write there and it isn't as lonely as writing at home. I still find people fascinating and wish I could do more to help them. But every time I've tried to build my life around changing others, it's ended up in the toilet. I get proud and arrogant and end up talking down to people who seem more like Jesus than I do.

***

 

    Can people change? Can people change their story? Naomi says people can, and I believe her because she knows more about that than I do. Can Jesus change our story? Mark says that he can, and I believe him because he knows more about that than I do. As for me, I'm not sure, exactly. I no longer think that I am destined for 'great things', because the things that I now think are great don't get a lot of publicity. Feeding a homeless person and reasserting their dignity is great. Counseling and listening to someone to help change their emotional narrative is great. Studying seventy hours a week so you can save someone's life is great. And teaching people to love one another regardless of what they do to you, and then dying to save everyone, is the greatest story of them all.

    So the answer, I guess, is that people can change. I'm not sure how we change exactly, but I know it's not as easy as I used to think. And I know we can't do it on our own.

Most change, in my life at least, has come through mistakes and tragedy and sadness. I'm a better husband because I was lousy before and the woman I'm with somehow understands me. I'm more understanding because I know what it's like to feel judged. I'm a better friend and more accepting of others because I know what it's like to be lonely. (I remember the nights I spent staring at my coffee table in a darkened apartment with no one to call.) The more I think about it the more I realize that Naomi is right. People can change, and while choice matters, it isn't just about the choices we make. It's about me. It's about you. It's a magical thing and sort of a silly cliché, but it all starts with this crazy idea that we're all God's children, as if we're one big family. We'll probably never be a happy family, because there are too many kids and someone will always feel left out or better or worse or not enough. But sometimes that's us, and that's okay too. Somehow, I think, so long as we remember the basics, that God created us and loves us, that we're going to screw up and make mistakes and that other people will too, I think we have a chance to change our story. And when our story changes, so does our life. I'm not sure I can explain it, but I've seen it happen, and if it can happen to the other kids, it can happen to us too.

 

-Steve

 

 

 

    
 

 

 

    
 

    
 

    
 

    
 

    

Pain, Christmas and… Gratitude?

    The streets are quiet. From the lofty view on the eighth floor, the world seems especially still tonight, and the only sound on the balcony is the wind flapping an unhinged piece of plastic against one of the trees below me. It is after 3am, and Christmas morning is still a few hours away. Most of the city remains locked in their holiday slumber, as I should be, but the pain has returned and sleep is not an option.

    It's been a rough two weeks. An abscessed tooth on the left side of my mouth has rejected the recent spate of antibiotics, and so after only a day or so of relief, the pain has returned on the eve of this Christmas morning to push me from my sleep. The pain is intense and comes in waves, and often feels as though someone is sawing a knife into my gums. Before the dentist was able to assign me antibiotics nearly a week ago, I'd gone through nearly ten extra strength tylenol a day, to little effect. It was only hours before I'd hoped that the pain was finally gone, but it has returned in full force, and after another night of little or no sleep, I am awake. In many ways, I feel like I've lost two weeks, because it's hard to keep track of the days when you're not sleeping and you never know when another staggering wave of pain will thrash your existence and bring you, often literally, to your knees.    And yet this morning, despite the physical agony I find myself in, I can't help feeling just a little grateful. I know it sounds like ridiculous, like one of those pat answers we hand out to people who are suffering to make ourselves feel better because we feel all right and well, we don't know what else to say. And as much as I'd like to not feel as if the dentist forgot his needle in my mouth, it does remind me of the people in this world who are in much greater pain. More than infected tissue brushing against a nerve, we are surrounded by people who suffer from recurring emotional scars that are ripped open, again and again, especially during holidays like Christmas. And while we are not meant to give up our own happiness or fulfillment to continually ponder the fates of those who are struggling, a reminder about the nature of humanity can serve, I think, to help us deal with our own pain and the struggles we all endure.

    ***

    There was a time not so long ago when Christianity was the faith of the suffering, the wounded, and the broken hearted. It was the faith that called its God the 'Man of Sorrows'. A faith that believed the Incarnation had been revealed in a poor, itinerant Rabbi during a tempestuous and violent period in the world's history. And a faith that viewed life in the light of its hardship and promised only hope.

    That faith, that version of Christianity, is no longer popular in North America or in most Western cultures. Instead, we look for the shiny red package with a bow on top, the faith that promises more goodies if only you'll choose it. Jesus, who has become a Western icon, is hard to distinguish from the morass of proto-masculine figures of the sports and entertainment world. In this world he isn't Swedish, as some would say, but more like the former gridiron star turned politician who has a good feel for people and a kind word for the women and children. He is marketable and likable and eminently successful. Massive churches and entire denominations design their advertising campaigns around him. Books promote his willingness to make you successful. Movies and music promise peace and joy if you'll just surrender to him… and donate twenty dollars to their ministry. Jesus is the Everyman, the star who fills the role that everyone can identify with, and he commands a huge market and a massive commission. With such a Saviour, we don't have much time for pain, just a quick, easy smile for the cameras before we flash forward to our next promotional visit. The underlying basis for humanity, the tragedy that enjoins us, is not important, not so long as we can get people into our building to recite our mantras and buy our stuff. The New Jesus wants to make You Better! The New Jesus doesn't want you to even think about the Negative. Focus on the Goodness! Focus on the Love! Okay, turn here, now smile… Good. Got it.

    In the world where entertainment is news and news is entertainment, the New Jesus strides across the room with a smile and a quip and presents for everyone.

    I don't like the New Jesus very much. He may earn twenty million for a movie and write best selling books that are sold in huge churches, and he might have a TV show that is shown to millions around the world and a rich following dressed in three piece suits and earnest faces, but I don't trust him. I know that I'm supposed to, know that I'm supposed to have more faith and just 'believe', but no matter how relevant or counter cultural or easy it all seems to believe in him, it just doesn't feel right. I admit that I don't know what God is supposed to feel like or look like, but when I see the New Jesus, the Jesus you see on your TV sets and the Jesus you find advertised in and by so many churches, it only makes me want to change the channel.

    ****

    Some of my friends don't like Christmas very much. In fact, there are quite a few people who don't like our current holiday creation, for a variety of reasons. For some, it is simply a matter of being too commercial, a created holiday for stores that has nothing to do with God or anything else. For others however, Christmas is a painful time because of what it recalls. Painful childhood memories of dysfunctional and abusive homes. Loved ones we've lost and lost loves. Suicide rates hit their peak during the Christmas season, and as every youth worker knows, it is often hardest on the young, who are forced to watch glamorized tales of perfect families and holiday rancor before heading home to a world filled with pain. For them, and many others, Christmas is far worse than even the worst sort of physical pain, because there is no operation and no painkiller that can take away the deep ache inside, an ache that Christmas seems only to highlight. For them, December 25^th is the yearly reminder that God doesn't love them or doesn't exist. The New Jesus does not make them want to change the channel so much as it does break the television. Of course, there's another Jesus, but we don't talk about him much these days…

    ****

    On a wind swept Judean hillside, the night is cold, and a young couple huddles together over a fire. Stars blanket the night sky like glittering diamonds, but the woman doesn't notice. Her legs and arms ache from the ride and she runs a trembling hand over her stomach. The time is soon. Her husband looks on anxiously and tries to wrap her in his blanket to keep her warm. The fire has little effect. Her hands feel numb with cold, though her forehead is covered in sweat. He tries to get her to eat, but she isn't hungry. They need a place to stay. It's soon, she tells him. He nods and puts out the fire. He has his own worries. Normally, the inns would have plenty of room, but with the Census, the roads are packed with travelers, and the young couple does not have enough money to buy someone out of their room. He is a simple man, and he worries about his young wife. He feels guilty that he cannot do better for her.

    He moves them back onto the road, which even now sees a fair share of travelers. No one speaks to them, however. No one offers them help, though the woman is clearly pregnant and struggling to stay on their donkey. Everyone is headed somewhere else. Everyone except for us, the man thinks. Alone in his thoughts, he reaches up to hold his wife's hand. Her fingers feel cold in his callused palm. They go as fast as they dare, but it is still slow going and the night is cold. He prays under his breath for Yahweh to help, but God seems absent this night. For years he was content in his work, until he met her, when suddenly things changed. He never could have anticipated this, however.

    She grasps her husband's hand and holds tight. She remembers the strange vision, and the visit from her cousin, but all she can think about is the pain. Everything hurts. She wonders why no one offers them help. But these are not people she grew up with. They are strangers, culled from the countryside at the beckons of their King, all anxious to be home. She sighs. The thought of a home, like the thought of no pain, is too much to hold onto. There is only the next minute. The next hour. The child must come, but she wonders why God has made this so difficult. Why he has chosen her? If he has chosen her. Doubts come and the pain is relentless, but she holds onto her husband's hand and tries to hide her face from the cold.

    The stable is dirty and stinks of cows and manure. Does it have to be here, she asks? Her husband nods, the misery and worry etched onto his face. She smiles at him, though her heart is filled with fear. She will not have any help. Not her mother or aunt or anyone else. She will have to do it alone. They will have to do it alone.

    He watches the way his wife accepts their fate, accepts his poverty, and smiles at him. Momentarily he hates himself for it and curses God for putting him in such a position. He sighs and asks forgiveness, grateful that his wife has a place to lie down. There is so much to be angry about, but the stable is better than the road. He thinks about his family and wishes his parents were still alive. He puts the thought out of his head. There is no one else now. Just him and his wife and the baby.

    Oh Yahweh, where are you?

    ****

    The gurgling sound seems to rise above the cacophony of the animals and he stares in wonder at the little boy. His wife is soaked in sweat but she is smiling. God be praised, he thinks, they've done it. What he doesn't understand is why they've had to do it alone. Or have they? He worries about where they will live and the rumors of war. He worries about the little boy being healthy and his wife getting sick.

    His wife holds up the boy and hands it to him. He takes it, cradling it in his arms, surprised by how light the baby is, how warm he feels. He asks his wife if its normal, but she just smiles as if he's said something in Greek. His worries vanish for the moment as he runs a finger over the boy's dark, wrinkled skin. He rocks him gently while his wife dozes. He wants to plan for the future, plan for his family, figure out a way to ensure they can survive the cold winters and blazing summers, but for the moment he is lost as he stares into his little one's eyes, and all he can do is whisper a quiet thanks.

    Merry Christmas, everyone.

 

-Steve

 

Halloween, Christmas and Other Atrocities

 

    The knock took me by surprise. I looked over at Bethany and checked the clock. 9pm? Who'd be coming by at this hour? She answered the door and I heard a familiar chorus.

    "Trick or treat!"

    "Hold on a minute, guys." She said. I caught a glimpse of their costumes from the living room. Two little kids, who couldn't have been more than five or six, dressed as executives. (They clearly hadn't been following the news.) She gave them some candy, and I heard their thank-you's as the door closed. Since we live on the 8^th floor of an apartment building, they were our only visitors. I thought about telling them that Halloween was the Devil's night, that Jesus would be very unhappy with them, and asking them where the tradition of Halloween had come from, but as they were only kids, they probably wouldn't understand what I was saying. Of course, age rarely comes into play when it comes to understanding, just as ignorance wears a variety of masks…

    

    When I was a kid, we dressed up every year to go out for Halloween. We didn't have a lot of money, but my mom worked hard on our costumes -- I still remember my sisters going out as Raggedy Ann and Andy -- and we always had a lot of fun, especially afterwards when my sisters and I would sit on our beds and 'trade'. (Any trade that brought you a chocolate bar was a winner. 'Best player in the trade' mentality.) Our home was traditional Catholic, but it never occurred to anyone in my family that somehow by putting on costumes and going door to door we were dishonouring God. That changed when I went into ministry. The Pentecostal church where I was working thought Halloween was the devil's night and had videos to prove it. Not only that, as we were taught in excruciating detail, the roots of Halloween went back to a dangerous and ignorant time, when the masks and costumes were worn to scare evil spirits, and trick or treat involved a sacrifice to these spirits. Sometimes, they said, those sacrifices included human sacrifices. I was horrified. I did some research, and wouldn't you know it, it was true. Halloween had indeed been a pagan holiday. They had indeed used masks in an attempt to scare the evil spirits. The idea that Christians celebrated such an evil holiday was an atrocity. I immediately crossed Halloween off my holiday list.

In my second year of ministry, my senior pastor informed me that they were going to offer an alternative costume party for the kids. I thought it was a great idea. This way, he said, the kids would get their candy and not be left out, and the church could reaffirm the glory of God instead of partaking in some old pagan/satanic ritual. It would be years before I would reconsider this idea of Halloween as the devil's night. Halloween was evil. It was right there in the history books. Or was it?

When my sister first told the family a number of years ago that she wasn't celebrating Christmas anymore and that it was a pagan holiday, I thought she was nuts. It was the birth of Jesus! For crying out loud, I thought, you couldn't get any more 'Christian' than that! She was vey calm.

"Christmas is a pagan holiday. The Romans changed it when the church came into power. December 25^th was traditionally the celebration of Winter Solstice. And historians have long confirmed that Jesus was born sometime in February. Also, Christmas trees were a form of pagan worship, particularly popular in Germany, but also known throughout Ireland and Scotland."

"That's not true," I said, unwilling to stay quiet. "The trees are evergreens, they represent Jesus' limbs and how they reach out all year round… or something like that."

My sister just looked at me and I shuffled uneasily under her gaze.

"Okay, fine. But how about St. Nick? He was a real saint who helped orphans and-"

"-now he's a fat man with a red coat and talking reindeer who lives at the North Pole. Christmas is nothing more than a big bloated business opportunity!"

I looked at my sister's serious expression and waved my hands.

"Bah humbug!"

It was all I had left. The sad thing of it all was that my sister was right. Her church, at least when it came to celebrations, was very consistent. They didn't celebrate anything except birthdays, which is to say, they didn't celebrate anything. (Loads of fun for the kids, but hey, they're consistent, and isn't that what's really important?)

I guess it was after that I started thinking about Halloween. The truth, conveniently ignored by those of us in the church, including me, was that all of our customs and rituals had ties to the past. Except that for most evangelicals, Christmas made the cut and Halloween didn't. I could only wonder at the discrepancy. Of the two holidays, Christmas seemed far less "Christian". It encouraged consumerism and gluttony and materialism. Jesus was as much a footnote to our cultural practice of Christianity as Satan was to our cultural practice of Halloween. And I certainly didn't see people offering sacrifices to evil spirits on Halloween. Oh, I had no doubt there were people who tried to re-enact the pagan rituals on October 31st. These so-called occultists. So what? I didn't see why it mattered so much. If a group of people decided to worship suitcases every July 4^th, would Christians declare that to be a no-travel day as a form of protest? In essence, what the church was doing was giving Satan equal billing with an omnipotent God.

The more I thought about it, the more I wondered why they persisted in producing so much anti-Halloween material. It had become so ridiculous to me, especially when I saw the medieval images of Satan wearing horns and a tail and usually in red tights. How was this seen as biblical? I brought it up with some of my Christian friends as a joke, but they never laughed. Mostly I got disapproving frowns. It was spiritual, they told me, and there was nothing 'trivial' about it. Well, I agreed with them about that. It certainly wasn't trivial. And as I'd found out this past year, the anti-Halloween movement hadn't slowed at all. It was all kind of sad and rheumy, like finding your grandfather's favourite old rocker in the garage covered with dust and being sold as something new and fresh.

But I guess we're taking a stand, aren't we? I just wonder when we're going to wake up and see that in all of our rhetoric, we're committing a much greater atrocity.

 

***

 

 

For me, the saddest part of all this is that my sister hasn't celebrated Christmas with my family in fifteen years. Her church has taken a stand, and God Bless Them, they're consistent. There will be no pagan celebrations in their family. And for many of my evangelical and charismatic friends, there will be no Halloween celebrations in their family either.

I guess that's okay. I don't like consumerism very much, and most people don't want to honour evil, but what if we're wrong about these traditions. What if the meaning of a tradition is simply the meaning you ascribe to it?

When I think about Christmas growing up, I don't think about the fact it was a pagan holiday or that Jesus was born in February. Instead, I remember family gatherings, getting together at the Croatian Hall with my cousins and waiting for Santa to appear, or our tradition of opening presents one at a time on Christmas morning. When I think about Halloween, I don't think about the occultist ties or ignorance of scaring spirits, I think about the costumes my mom made for us, trading candy with my sisters, engaging with our neighbours, and later, with my neighbours' children.

It's easy, I think, to take a perpetual stance of condemning culture. It's easy to automatically label customs as wrong or sinful and even easier to find reasons not to participate. Maybe that happens because it gives us a sense of both self-importance and self-sacrifice and doesn't really cost us anything. Except that it does. It reinforces the idea that Christians are proud and elitist. It reinforces the idea that Christians think that they are better. It tells the world that Christianity is as exclusive as a yacht club, and forces some of us who love Jesus to explain to our friends why these other Christians are such cultural snobs. Perhaps the worst thing about it though, is that while we're celebrating our differences from the world on these holidays, there will be people at work and on our streets who have no one with whom they can share anything. It goes without saying, I think, that the real atrocities of life are never concerned with issues, just people. The same people the church insists that it loves.

I miss our family Christmas. I miss the fact we can't gather together as a family because a portion of the church insists on teaching anti-culturalism. My hope this year is that we will remember to celebrate the holidays (yes, all of them) as seasons of hope and giving. That we will look at the world as not a place to condemn, but as a family to join. And that we will hold close not the doctrines that divide us, but the relationships that make this whole thing matter.

-Steve

 

    

Comments, Questions, and A Lot of Criticism

My apologies for not posting lately. The book has taken a great deal of time from what I'm used to doing on this site, along with some articles I've been working on for publication. That said, I will be posting my next blog for this site within the week as it's almost done. What is it concerning? Let's just say I'm a little frustrated over the response to Halloween by many people in the church, and our position on holidays in general. It's time we step back and look at what we've created the past thirty years or so.

For now, I thought I'd post some of the comments I received from the latest blog, The Origin of Christian Arrogance. As some of you are aware, I will generally post a piece on a variety of sites aside from this one. The last blog upset some of you, and I appreciated your thoughtful opinions of dissent.

A couple of things very quickly:

1. I like it when people disagree, and especially when they take the time to produce a thoughtful dialogue. Yes, I believe in right and wrong, but much of that is situational and cultural. I know we don't like to hear that (the Pharisees certainly didn't when Jesus was around) but when we externalize evil in the form of people groups or cultures we become antithetical to the Gospel.
   
2. The only comments I do not publish are personal attacks (of which there have been a few) or those which cross the boundary of appropriateness. (My blog, my discretion) I rarely have to worry about this because those of you who stop by here tend to be quite thoughtful.
   
3. On the last comment, instead of writing back, I simply inserted my response into the text itself using <my thoughts> brackets. I don't like to do that, but the comment is a long one and I want everyone who takes the time to write me to get full attention. In this case, I was simply afraid I would not be able to address everything that was brought up in the comment.
   

Okay, on to the comments. I hope you all are enjoying the late fall sunshine.

-Steve

From SH, Calgary, AB
You know Steve, I think we make it difficult for ourselves when we continually focus on the rules and struggle with the decision of following them or ignoring them and trying something new.

A suggestion? Stop focusing so much on what we've done wrong.

To SH,
I appreciate your comment. :) The problem I have with not paying attention to the rules is that many of these 'rules' have nothing to do with God, and impart nothing but heartache. It's easy, I think, to ignore these so-called rules, but look at who suffers. I think of the slaves, of the women who have tried to be leaders, at the ... Read More homosexuals who are told they are worthless and the poor who are ignored simply because they're not important. And then I think about who Jesus would stand for, and it pushes me to do the same.

From AG, Ottawa, ONT

Dear Steve... and I say this in a respectful way because I know you guys desperately believe in god, but... I don't have to deal with these issues, and I feel my particular view of the world has become more rich than all the excuses cited above could give. I may live in a godless world, but it is full of passion, understanding, love, empathy, compassion... compassion... Read More, caring, inquisitiveness, desire, ambition, and hope! I really feel sorry and sad when I read stories like this, and my heart is moved with compassion for her and how she clings to an unfulfilled life and simple tenants. I know to many Christians living a life without god is very much looked down on, but for those of us who aren't Christians and embrace learning on another level, with an open mind, we learn more about ourselves than the bible can offer and enrich what we can offer in this life with that.

Just a thought from the light side.

To AG,
It's nice to hear from you. :) My fear of those who live in a 'godless' world, as you say, is that there is little room for humility. I cite Sam Harris, who would like to bomb the entire Muslim world, or Richard Dawkins, a hyper atheist fundamentalist who is so arrogant he believes himself to be superior to everyone around him. It is not so much that I desperately believe in God, but that He believes in me. To let go, simply because it's easy, makes no spiritual or intellectual sense for me. In fact, it would be intellectually lazy for me to do so in an attempt to divine our purpose here. I fear the idea of learning on "another level" as you say, because I think that learns implies condescension. That is, it implies some have reached a higher spiritual plane than others. That sounds like too many religious people I know, and not at all like Jesus, who "though he was God, became one of us, and considered others better than Himself." It's hard, but I think it's worth it.

From AG, Ottawa, ON
Hey Steve... I know most Christians have very little tolerance for those two but I find they make a lot of sense. I have read Dawkins, own his movies... thought about what he had to say. He's pretty staunch, it's true, however he is a genuine man utterly frustrated with the senseless acts he sees around him and I agree with him there but certainly not so arrogant as you think. It's senseless as you put it how many fundamentalist Christians treat gays, women, and I might add the climate, our environment, animals, science, war etc. So many are repulsed by the notion in America to have a health care system but was not Jesus in essence a socialist?

To us, we can't understand statements like "he (God) believes in me"... leaves us somewhat baffled. To take "another level" to mean a higher level is entirely your perception if you want it that way. I might suggest that it would be the position of a man in a defensive position to automatically conclude such a thing. I would probably have given it a separate branch of a birthing root and a conclusion we came to parallel to yours, it's simply a decision to decide for or against the evidence of there being a god. And I'm leaving spiritual notions entirely out of it, such things have no place in my world so it's rather impossible for me to claim a higher spiritual level....

And to let go does in no way imply that it's an easier route, it's a different route. You chose your path, I choose mine, both have personally rewarding ends, but for some I fear, they had a path picked for them that they aren't as well adjusted to, and perhaps the alternative might offer more comfort. , caring, inquisitiveness, desire, ambition, and hope! I really feel sorry and sad when i read stories like this, and my heart is moved with compassion for her and how she clings to an unfulfilled life and simple tenants. I know to many Christians living a life without god is very much looked down on, but for those of us who aren't Christians and embrace learning on another level, with an open mind, we learn more about ourselves than the bible can offer and enrich what we can offer in this life with that.

Just a thought from the light side.

To AG,
Thanks again for the comment! Honestly, do not see the difference between Dawkins and religious fundamentalists, and I'm not the only one. Have you read Christopher Hedges? He's a Pulitzer Prize winning author who spent two years studying the Christian Right in the US, and wrote a book about it, and called their form of Christianity 'fascism'. He sees the same thing in the "New Atheists". Their fundamental view of the world is black and white, just like a Christian or Muslim fundamentalist. They see no nuance, no colour. Dawkins is a brilliant science writer, but when he writes about theology he's an amateur, and he spends more time defending the 'cult of science' than sticking to the essence of science. He's the most religious sounding scientist I've ever heard! (Two of my friends ARE scientists, and he confuses them)
Fundamentally, Dawkins and the others externalize evil, which is exactly what fundamentalists do. They see evil as something outside of themselves and believe that with reason and education we can move to some sort of human utopia. That we (because we are educated atheists or dedicated Christians) are better and have the "right" of things. The fundamentalist always turns the world into two sides. Us vs. Them. This is exactly what Dawkins does. (I can't believe you call him 'staunch', he's an ass towards people who don't agree with him, just like American fundamentalist preacher types -- condescending and patronizing) For Dawkins, the problem is religion. But the problem isn't religion; the problem is that we are all immoral. Humankind will use all sort of things to create terror, and sometimes its religion. Sometimes its communism, sometimes its fascism or government. These are not the reflections of a religious mind, but the natural immorality of humanity. When we make the assumption, like the Germans did, that we can educate and rationalize and that we're moving towards a smarter, more evolved humanity, we end up with Bureaucrats taking notes while millions are slaughtered in concentration camps.
Dawkins cannot accept the basic principle of human immorality, and that we are not "getting better" or morally evolving. No amount of reason will change that. -Steve

From MJ, California

The problem that I see here, Steve, is that if anyone sees God and the world differently than you then they are either simple, immature, or not as experienced as you and thus THAT is why they don't agree with you, and that in and of itself is arrogance.

Your friend has faith in God. She has settled the issue in her heart, and it's obvious you haven't. Not yet, at least. Despite the pain and the tragedy in this world God is still in control and we must trust in Him. It may not make a whole lot of sense to our finite minds, where we inevitably ask "Why?", but ultimately we must accept, and settle the issue, that if our God is who He says He is, He does all things for our best interests and for His ultimate glory. Near the end of Job, God and Job have a little discussion. Read that again before you start diminishing your friends perspective, and mine.

You refer to Jesus and the Gospels. Good. Doesn't He repeatedly make the point that we are to come to Him as little children, with simple faith? To me, perhaps, simple faith is real faith. Your friend was right. She has peace. You do not. She has settled the issue. You need to. Do I trust in God or do I trust in the world? You can't have both, and perhaps that's the dilemma, why your spiritual walk is full of strife and grief. You're trying to meld the two, and the two are, unfortunately, diametrically opposed.

If I am wrong, then let me ask you a question. With the attitude you have, what is it about God that is appealing to a hurting and lonely world? What do you have to offer that someone else can't? What is so great about God? You may make people feel good about themselves, but ultimately do you bring them any closer to Jesus, the master healer? And more to the point, why not? Could it be that perhaps, deep down, you don't trust that God will heal hurting hearts? That God will give comfort? You have to settle this issue, because if you're not pointing people to Jesus you're pointing people to you, and no MA degree or PhD can change that. In fact, it probably makes things worse.

I've been reading your blogs for several years and I've noticed you've become more and more cynical, and far less tolerant of others and their walk with Jesus. It seems, with but few exceptions, everyone is arrogant, immature, inexperienced, or flat out wrong. You diminish the work that God is faithfully doing in everyone's life when it doesn't track with yours. How dare we have joy? How dare we trust in God? Instead of growth I see a hardened heart, and before God will allow you to minister to anyone you have to get back to the way you used to be, Steve, when everything was simple. Sometimes thinking too much can cause our hearts to grow cold.

To MJ,
Thanks for your comment. I want you to know that we often disagree, I appreciate you taking the time to comment and I do consider carefully before responding. There are several points here. I found it interesting that when I first posted this blog (which went as a note to facebook) the two people to respond immediately were a Christian evangelical friend, and an atheist, both of whom disagreed with me. There's a link there, because fundamentalism is way of seeing the world, and both John Hagee and Richard Dawkins see it the same way. I won't repeat my comments there, but I will try to address the points you made. When I was a conservative, I used the argument you make here, that anyone who sees the world other than I do is intolerant, therefore, really, everyone is intolerant. The problem with that thought process is that it allows everything.

Patriarchy, misogyny and racism are dangerous, in that they cause a great deal of suffering, so to that, I AM intolerant of it. I have seen great hurt and damage done by those of "simple faith", who have used the Bible to beat down those not in power. What I don't understand is how Christians can call that acceptable. Wasn't Jesus chastised for doing that very thing? My wife grew up in Ethiopia as the daughter of missionaries. Her parents are kind, loving people. But for most of her life, because of the missionary organization she belonged to, she was taught that her opinions didn't matter. Do you know why? Because she was a woman. As to my friend, perhaps my portrait was not clear enough. She was a beaten woman. Through the years, I've seen what abused women look like and so while she was quoting Scripture, she was beaten. She had no life in her, Matt. Do you know how sad that is to see? She didn't have joy. She was despondent and lifeless. I've seen that before, as I said, and it is very, very sad. In this case, the church did not stick up for her, because she was a woman. She wasn't quoting Scripture out of joy. "Simple faith" works well if you are a man, especially a white, straight man. Not so much if you are part of the population with power. I'm afraid I see this as antithetical to a God who goes after one lost sheep.

As for me, you're right when you say, what do YOU have to offer. My answer would be... nothing. I wish I didn't see the pain I see, and I wish I could simply write about what a great life I have and how God loves me. I don't write articles to necessarily make people feel better, and I'm not interested in writing about that which I do not feel, which I consider to be Christian propaganda. It would be hypocritical for me to do so. You point out Job, which is probably an apt comparison to the way many people feel. I find it difficult to simply say "God has a plan". He does? When does this plan go into effect? And yet, I have devoted the vast majority of my life both seeking and worshipping the One who created us. I have no doubt that God exists, or that Jesus is the Incarnation. It doesn't lessen the pain I feel for the hurt I see around me. And it certainly won't stop me from asking questions like "where are you, God?" The prophets were commended for their faith in the OT, and when you read their words, or the psalms, much of what they are doing is asking the same questions I ask, that many people ask. The church has become too interested in marketing Jesus... "Why would someone come to church after listening to you?" and less interested in being authentic. So while people may come to church because of our sunny smiles, there are many who want to know that you, like them, do not have all the answers. We have somewhere gotten this idea that church is something WE need to expand. I disagree. God grows the church. It's His church after all. I am not interested in Christian pamphlets or fake smiles or tired clichés.

Have I become more cynical? Maybe. That is not a result of school, but exposure. The myth of human progress, the atheistic 18th century idea, seems prevalent in the church these days, as if it were a Christian idea. Certainly, I do not want to be one who 'steals the joy' from other Christians. If I tell you I wish I had more of that, what would you say? Different people have different callings and different struggles. As you've read my work, you know that I have always tried to be honest about my own. About three or four years ago, when I came back to the church, I made a simple promise to God. I promised that I would no longer hide. I wouldn't hide my questions or doubts. That I would write honestly, from the heart, without trying to 'make things nice.' Today, that promise holds. I will never convince someone else that Jesus is God Incarnate. Nor will I try. That is God's doing. I am not a salesperson nor a marketer nor a politician, and it is my firm belief that when we attempt to 'evangelize', that often (in our methods) we are degrading God. I'm sure you disagree, and that's okay, it's just where I'm at.

Thanks again for your comment. Know that your words are prayerfully considered.

Steve

From MJ, California
I suppose what I was getting at was that you often lump evangelicals and charismatics as being harmful, and I am both. I suppose I'm not a typical Christian in that I often challenge and question church doctrine that is not backed up with scripture.

<I do tend to lump them together, which is sometimes problematic, I admit. I do it because I was a Pentecostal pastor (and they are all evangelicals) As to the second point about checking with Scripture, it is something I always used to say as well, but it's simply not possible. Evangelicals use that term a lot and yet know the least about the history of the church and understanding Scripture in context, which is why it gets abused so consistently. This is problematic in that it checks Scripture literally when it wants to, as in regards to women and spiritual leadership rules and homosexuality, but then becomes loving your enemy, cutting off the body part that causes you to sin, and all sorts of verses. We are all selective! And Scripture is ancient text, and can not be read as a 21^st Century letter to Western Europeans and their descendants.

But what I take offense to is your generalizations about conservative Christians. I don't walk in lock step with the church. I don't just accept what is taught without analyzing it and praying about it (and getting additional counsel from others about it), just as Paul encouraged the Boreans to do. And mostly, I don't claim to have all the answers. <Me neither, MJ. >It wasn't until my father passed away when I realized I don't HAVE to have the answers, and I'm okay with it...finally. And what bothers me is the reverse chauvinism that is being displayed here. My opinions are dismissible because I am a white male. How can I possibly understand? Never mind the fact that it is a misconception that men are the only ones who are abusive, because I myself was abused by my first wife, and no one believed me. No one came to my defense, not the church and not my friends. However, I didn't let that dishearten me.

<I think that your situation is terrible, MJ. You are the rarest of cases, however. As to being a white, straight male, I used to complain about 'reverse discrimination' as well. Then I started working in a multi-cultural environment and started to really talk and listen to my female friends. As a rule, white, straight males still have the power in our society. Based on ability alone, there are no limitations on where we can go and what we can achieve. That's not true for any other group in our society.>

I still trust in God, and although I don't see how He orchestrates things while I'm in hard times, so very often once I've come out on the other side I've seen how He actually did. I find that is often the case. How can a loving God let so much misery continue? There are no easy answers, and that's okay. We live in a sinful world where <Humans>man are so often too selfish to be like Jesus. Should the church have been there to protect your wife? You're damn right they should have and they will be held accountable to it by God (if not in this life then the next). But you see, that's why we need Jesus, because on our own we will always fall short of Christ's character and not be merciful to those who need mercy, and don't love people that need to be loved, and don't help those that need help. That is the biggest sin of fallen man, that we come in Christ's name but not in His CHARACTER.

you've

We tell people all the time ABOUT Jesus but rarely reflect Him through our lives.

<Exactly. I agree. So maybe its time we stopped talking about it. Maybe its time we stopped worrying about evangelism.>

That's what a hurting world is sees, and is the real reason people have stopped going to church; the hypocrisy.

<I disagree. It isn't the hypocrisy, it's the surety. Every evangelical is taught that they know they are Christians. How? Because they just know it in their knower. It's dishonest and dumb and inauthentic. You DON'T KNOW! I DON'T KNOW! How can you rationally KNOW about God? Unless you are Him or Her? I think the churches would fill up if the people inside them just started saying "I don't know", all the time. Can you think of a more welcoming place than the Church of the I Don't Know. Instead, we do our marketing reports that tell us we need more parking and nursery spaces and better music. Maybe we just need a bunch of people who can I Don't Know together about Jesus and go help someone.>

But in that we must understand that the church is made up of people who suffer from the same problems as those that don't go to church. We are just as fallible, just as selfish, and just as wounded, while the world looks to us for answers to their pain and suffering.

<No, it doesn't look to us for answers. That's the point. It doesn't look at us at all. We're just another stupid organization where people are trying to fit in together. Maybe if we stopped thinking we were "the answer" we'd be a little more humble, and people would ask for our help.>

They want easy answers, and there are none, as most honest Christians have come to understand. But in that failing, I see those that genuinely love God cannot help <but> love others, and in so doing try perhaps too hard to give answers they are not skilled to give out of the earnest desire to lead them to Jesus.

<Bah. Okay, I guess I'm getting a bit grumpy here. They're not simply 'trying too hard', they've been taught that 'leading someone to Jesus' is like taking someone to the washroom. That anyone can do it if you know the way. Really? So we serve a mystical, omnipotent God, but if we follow four easy steps that person is now 'saved'. Bah! Do you think God cares so little for his children that YOU are the answer. We may be part of it, but evangelicals can't even see the ridiculous amount of pride in their position. I know I didn't. Listen, we all want to feel important. And no doubt, 'leading someone to the Lord', may make you feel that way. Unfortunately, it isn't just about you, and that's the problem with evangelicals and especially charismatics, who see your salvation as their personal problem to be solved. While its true that many are sincere in trying to help, too often charismatics attract personality types who seek attention, and act in a manner that is offensive and belies their own insecurity. Which begs the point. If they are so sure of their own salvation, why are they always trying to convince others that they're right 'about the Lord'?>

In Him I have hope, that despite all that I've been through, I can still have peace. God gave me joy (not what most people interpret as being happiness, but joy, an entirely different thing altogether) and want others who have come to walk in Christ have it as well, instead of clinging to their pain. Cuz, you see, I too have suffered great loss, great pain, great abuse, great neglect, and deep depression. When I gave my life to Him he flipped all that on its head and for the first time in my life I knew what joy actually is. Now, that's not say my life has been all rosy since. In fact, some of the most painful times I've ever had has happened since I've become a Christian, however I've come to have that intimacy with God where he comforts me and strengthens me through those hard and difficult (and sometimes lonely) times. THAT is what we as Christians have to offer a lost and hurting world. I can't help anyone. I can't rescue anyone. I can only point them to the One who can.

It's up to them to make that decision: "Will I put my trust in God, or keep doing things the way I've always done?" And sometimes, their choice can grieve us as they choose to do their own thing and thus continue on in their pain alone. Some even, as was the case with my second wife, are more comfortable with pain and sorrow than the freedom that a life in Christ offers. People like me are an anathema to them. It forces them to step outside of their comfort zone and patterns of behavior embedded in their psyche so deep after decades of practice. If one is a true follower of Jesus you should be going somewhere with your walk. You cannot be a disciple of Christ and remain the same.

You know this. Christ offers peace, rest, and comfort, but at the same time challenges us to embrace a life we are completely foreign to, to be better than who we think we can be, and takes us out of our comfort zone.

<There's another paradox in there. God offers us peace and then takes us out of our comfort zone? I think I understand what you're saying, but it comes across as more clichéd talking points from a church bulletin.>

Having joy joy joy is not a delusion, nor is it a sign of an immature faith. I've been slugging it out in the trenches for over 14 years now, so I'm not exactly inexperienced nor am I unread (nor am I a mindless sheep of church doctrine). Faith CAN be real and simple.

<Considering the paradoxes you've lined up… I'm not sure how you can call faith 'simple'. They seem clear when you're in the church, because we're given weekly driving lessons down those winding trails each week, but step outside the church for a while and you get gobbly gook.>

Faith is a matter of trust that, despite what my eyes can see and what my finite mind can comprehend, I know God is watching my back and loves me enough that whatever I may have gone through He can redeem for His glory and my benefit (even though it may hurt like hell at the time). Christ said "I came to give life and life more abundantly" and it's my goal in life that Christians understand this. His love heals...but only if we let Him. I see the pain in people's lives and if I didn't care I'd keep it to myself and not do anything about it, but I also see the solution.

<What is the solution? What is it? Go to church more? Ask Jesus to forgive us for our sins? What IS THE SOLUTION? I'm not just talking to MJ here, but unfortunately, his letter catches the blow. Christians always like to say that they have the solution! I don't think so. I think that Christians have a greater insight into the mystery of life. I think that as we grow we understand that we know less. When I see people who are absolutely sure about what they know about God, I immediately back up. They are either salespeople, wing nuts, shallow, not too smart, and have some other motive for wanting me to be part of their church.>

However, not very many people (including those who claim to be Christians) want the solution. "It's too easy." Yes, it is. It is also that HARD.

<It's your conscience that's speaking when you repress your questions. This is exactly what cults say to their cult members.>

In fact, trusting God enough to let Him inside and heal you is quite possibly the most terrifying thing a Christian has to do, and is often a life long process of surrendering those things (attitudes, beliefs, habits, loves, hates, dreams, fears, people, and possessions) to Him who wants the best for us.

<Again, none of that seems as simple as seem to believe it is, MJ. I think we are in more agreement than you realize.>

My special thanks to those who wrote in, and to MJ, who always writes thoughtful and considered comments on one of my sites. I appreciate his readership, and if today I seemed harsh, please understand it is not personal, but he expresses clichés that the church refuses to acknowledge and need to be addressed.

By the way, this idea that the church has the answer has filtered down to the individual level, where there are a number of people in churches who occupy positions of power – board members, pastors, prayer leaders – who insist that they know everything there is to know about God. They're called bullies, and Jesus addressed them, 2000 years ago.

To quote the Son of God then… "Sons of bitches and polly-glam empty asses" Matt 23: 33, New Stephen Burns Revised Edition)

-Steve