I Care About Me

Banks suck, don’t they? This morning I was looking at my account, and I saw that I had been charged $160 in bogus fees, and subsequently had to spend the next hour explaining to various bank employees over the phone why the fees were bogus. But man, I fought like a hornet, and ultimately I got what I wanted.

Well now, after things have been “set right,” I’m calm, but also a little unsettled. When I found out that I had been wronged by my bank, I responded with quick fervor. No, it felt more like righteous anger. “Put me on the phone with someone who will remove these fees. Now.” I didn’t have to think it over, or plan it out. I called the bank immediately, because, well, my assets were being threatened. Obviously.

But the thing that disturbs me is that I couldn’t tell you of a time in recent memory when I acted nearly that decisively on the behalf of someone else. I certainly don’t believe I was wrong for calling the bank to correct the error; no, but the problem is that I don’t fight like that for other people.

There are perhaps a thousand reasons for this, but at the root of all of them is a simple one; I’m afraid of what it might cost me to care what happens in someone else’s life as much as I care what happens in my own. Because if you really care about someone, then you invest yourself in them. And if you invest your time, and energy in other people, then you will have less time and energy to invest in yourself.

I’m desperate to see my dreams become realities. But even more powerful than my desire to succeed is my terror of failure. Earthquakes of paranoia rumble through my mind telling me that if I am not actively pursing my goals and ambitions every single day that I will eventually wake up a fifty-year-old nobody. That if I ignore the various responsibilities of my life that I will become a train wreck.

And it’s true; people who ignore their dreams for long enough become nothing, and people who ignore their responsibilities become train wrecks. Whether or not we ever express this or admit it, we know this is true; we are creatures that require maintenance. God knows this too. Which I think is why He tells us over and over and over in Scripture not to worry, but to trust Him, and allow Him to take care of us. He actually commands us not to worry.

He also commands us to love others and to be servants. That is precisely what Jesus came here to teach us how to do; love others and serve them. He goes on to say that if we love Him we will obey Him. So as a follower of Jesus, I am left with this rather unnerving question; how do I start loving people more? How do I start serving them?

As I am writing this, something embarrassingly obvious occurs to me; there is an overpass three blocks from my front door where homeless folks hang out. (Live.) Something tells me I should start there. If I’m being honest, I really don’t want to go. Not even a little bit. It’s midnight. I want to go to bed. And yet, I’m quite sure that God is telling me to stop typing, and get off my ass.

A brief follow-up:

I picked up a guy named Dave from under the bridge. We went to McDonald’s and sat outside because the inside-seating was closed. We talked about movies a little, and both of us agreed that “Snakes on a Plane” wasn’t very realistic. Then another homeless guy named Michael showed up, so we swung through the drive-thru again. Michael was a Vietnam vet and didn’t look so great; his hands looked like he had just punched his way out of a coffin and then dug up to the surface. When I was dropping Michael off, he took hold of my shoulder and lowered his head. I think he was praying for me.

I’m not sure what to make of any of this. But I know that God is telling me to stop living in the land of hypotheticals.

I’ll try.

Hallelujah for Gospel Music and Word Games

I went to a concert tonight at Ebenezer United Methodist Church, and I will say this; there are certainly worse ways you could spend an evening. It was a night of praise and worship, with lively, joyful Gospel music that was sometimes brilliant, and other times rather straining to the ear, but always powerful genuine in giving glory to the Living God. I think I have a ceiling for the amount of joy I can take in one serving. And three hours worth was definitely pushing it for me. But thankfully I came prepared with a couple pieces of paper and some pencils, so my buddy Steve and I played word games to, uh, bring some variation to the worship.

Chaos

Church is going to fit into all of this somehow. I can say that because despite everything that’s going on, the topic of church continues to buzz around in my mind. And I actually have some peace about it, rather than say, guilt for not getting more involved. And I think that my peace comes from God, like His way of telling me not to panic that things are so busy right now. But I also know God doesn't want me to stop thinking about church either. Saying I’m going to “think about church” might sound lame, but I really don’t think it is. That’s as much as I can do right now. There is a “new people” night coming up at Summit Church. I’m planning on going to that. Until then, well… I’ll probably blog and then go to church on Sundays.

So I guess that’s why this is a journey. I’m not suddenly going to be immersed in a cozy church home. I just started a new job this week. And at night I have been working on a new novel. And somehow my time is gone. Shrug. Here’s what I know. The times when we feel overwhelmed are meant to be good too. If we’re following God anyway. Overwhelmed does not mean bad. What it should mean is "desperate for God."

A Quote From Nathan Selikoff

"I'd like to go to church where the rich and poor don't just interact on service projects, but actually meet, worship, pray, and live together." Nathan Selikoff

Ebenezer United Methodist Church

Growing up in St. Paul Minnesota, church worked a certain way. Fifteen minutes of worship, followed by thirty seconds of “greeting your neighbor,” followed by a forty-minute sermon, followed by one more song, and then the benediction. Zip, bang, done. And essentially, the churches I go to these days are the same.

But at Ebenezer United Methodist, things are different. It’s an African American church here in my neighborhood which Amy and Nathan (my sister and brother-in-law) attend. I went with them this morning after missing my new church because of daylight saving’s time.

For starters, when they do the “greet your neighbor” thing, it lasts at least ten minutes. Really. Ten minutes. And you know what? It’s awesome. I’ve only been to Amy and Nathan’s church a handful of times, but people there know who I am. And truthfully, this amazes me, though I suppose the fact that I was one of three white people in the building today may have had something to do with it.

For close to an hour, church was led by the kids. We sang various songs (with solos by kids as young as five!) and we read a couple different chapters of scripture. Ezekiel 37, about the dry bones being made whole and new, and John 11, about Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. You should understand, two full, long chapters is about five times as much scripture as I hear on a typical Sunday. Maybe ten times.

The sermons at Ebenezer are different too. The pastor, an amazingly warmhearted woman named Margaret, is never in a hurry. She is merely saying the things that she believes God has given her to say.

Practical advice: “Remember to get exercise. You’ll be healthier, and it will help you work off stress. Also, get a partner, someone who will help make sure you keep it up.” (Somehow, the fact that I heard this in church was hilarious to me. In a good way.)

Politics: “People are so ignorant when they say that Barrack Obama’s middle name ‘Hussein’ is a Muslim name. It is an Arabic name. It is just as silly as saying that ‘Margaret’ is a Christian name. No, it is an English name. But I am a Christian.” (I think the implication was, if Barrack says he’s a Christian, then he’s a Christian.)

Tough Reality Check: “As Christians we are called to be servants. We serve in order to live as Christ lived.”

Self Image: “Be grateful for the way God made you, because God made you beautiful. If you are comparing yourself to someone else, you are forgetting that God made you beautiful in the way that He wanted you to be.”

And then her main sermon, which had three points: Point one; Jesus wept for Mary and Martha’s pain over Lazarus (as well as His own pain at the loss), and He still weeps for our pain and suffering today. Point two; Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead, and he is still raising people from the dead today. People who are emotionally dead, spiritually dead. Physically dead too. Point three; after Jesus brought Lazarus from the dead, Jesus told Mary and Martha to take care of Lazarus’ bandages. And Jesus still includes people in the healing process today.

These are all things I heard in the sermon this morning. (I paraphrased a little.) And it was all pretty straightforward, but man, if I took everything she said to heart… I would be a different person.

Indie and Emo

Briefly, on the subject of Emo and Indie, my good buddy Steve has illuminated things a bit for me:

“Indie = short for independent (or non-mainstream) can apply to anything (movies, music, art, etc). Emo is a subset of the music category of indie (although, some emo bands make it big, thus shedding their indie status). So a term like "emo art" doesn't really make sense. That would be like saying "rap art" when you're really looking for the word urban. Hopefully that is helpful, and you can begin using the terms in more meaningful ways that make you sound less like the father of a teenager.”

Wonderfully explained. And just to clear up any confusion, I don't have kids.

Daylight Savings

Bummer. I missed church today. Daylight Saving's time. Lame.

Wait... actually I'm going to church with my sister and brother-in-law. More to come.