theo|digital

The youth conference skit of the last few years has been the one featuring Jesus and a troubled girl, set to “Everything” by Lifehouse. It dramatically shows how dark life can feel, and how Jesus intervenes.

And I can’t bring myself to like it.

This is one of the cases where I wonder if my cynicism has gone too far. The LT crew performed this here in Colorado on our first Tuesday night, and though one my new friends poked me and asked if I liked it, I struggled to be positive. It made me feel like a jerk&mdashmy resistance like stiff-arming Jesus himself or something.

Here’s what was going through my mind:

1. It doesn’t feel like a legit art form. Where in culture do you see the pantomime-over-audio-bed-skit except by church drama teams? The “skit” as generally accepted is a piece of comedy (SNL), but I can’t think of applications that are taken seriously (Cirque du soleil maybe?). It’s just not common, and to me has that nobody-does-this-except-us feel that goes with gospel tracts and public hymn sings.

2. The cascading chain of sin. The Lifehouse skit shows a succession of temptations or sins that seems to distract or invade the girl’s life. In order: boyfriend/romance -> cash/money -> alcohol -> beauty/anorexia -> cutting -> suicide. Each of these is profound and serious. But do boyfriends cause money-chasing or does chasing money cause alcohol, etc? I guess the positive way to see this would be as one girl’s story, but the subtle message that these will lead to each other.

3. Oversimplified sins. Romance, money, alcohol, and self-beauty all have God-created elements that can both live with vigor and grace in the Kingdom or be twisted and abused outside the Kingdom. I’m sure the skit format necessarily needs simplification, but I’m not sure Romance/Love is replaced by Jesus as much as it’s replaced by Romance/Love Done Jesus’ Way. Wine Done Jesus Way (Wedding feast of the lamb). Etc. I’m always worried when it feels like we’re throwing out Creation along with the Sin. It’s tough – in our world they are well tangled. But I hope this leads us to complicated conversations about how grace is the Great Unravellor.

4. Her turn-around/conversion is so black & white. One image I love in this skit is the deep struggle that’s portrayed. The clawing and pain under sin. But when Jesus finally dashes in to shield the heroine, she seems instantly free of her ailments, returning to a sense of perfect freedom. Isn’t it a significantly more realistic picture (though much less Happy Ending) to portray a walk that’s near to both Jesus and struggle? This is the Christian life we live. It’s possible, by portraying otherwise, to tell a false story that condemns those that show harsh evidence of their sin struggle their entire life. Hardly difficult to find in the history of the church. Paul shows us a rich picture of grace and sin running in parallel… the final glory established is Next not Now.

I realize in certain quarters I’ll get an bored high-five on this, but there are other that might wonder why I need to stir the pot. Why bring it up? Because these are big central issues of the way we talk about the gospel, sin, and grace. As fundamental pillars in the Christian worldview, I’m sure they can emerge from my small discussion no worse for the wear.

One week since we arrived in Colorado (granted, our midnight arrival was probably technically Tuesday).

I’ve never seen it so rainy here, so dark. The surrounding landscape is hidden completely. Even Eagle Cliff has a cloud like a sheet partially draped over its top. And I’m trapped in it, the dampness in my lungs un-comforting to the dryness in my throat, and the aches elsewhere. I’m definitely sick. I spent the morning in my room before venturing to the Pondo for an early lunch (they had egg drop soup, but it had left-over peas in it from the night before) and then back home again exhausted from an hour out. I was able to get some e-mail done, but then let the sleep take me for two hours before five.

And now I’m feeling like I often feel when I’m on sick day: lazy. Like I should have gotten more done. Frustrated and guilty that daylight is almost ready to drop away, but my task list isn’t shorter.

I can convince myself that that this was an opportune time to have to take a break. And it was—I finally completed my full project leaders and coaches orientation late last night, and many of my initial major tasks for launching things seem to be complete. But to work in this kind of self-talk is to miss the point; staying within the confines of the assumption that if I am productive, I am valuable.

 

I know it looks like someone painted it, but this is sorta the daily view out our front porch.

And I’ve almost been too busy to see it. I think I’ve set a record for me: almost 10 days of not posting! Geesh, even during final exams I threw a few notes up here. But this first “pre-week” of Colorado LT has been 15 hour work-days for me… although it’s felt awesome, being such a change from studying. I’ve gone from being best friends with my laptop computer to meeting about 140 (not making it up) new people in the last week, and trying to remember names! Not doing too badly.

Anyway. More about my summer adventures soon.

Year one of grad school complete! That was stunningly fast. Colorado here I come!

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Now playing: Andrew Osenga – New Beginning
via FoxyTunes

Wow, unreal. Quotes include:

“I’ll never vote for a black person.”
and
“Hang that darky from a tree.”

Racist Incidents Give Some Obama Campaigners Pause – washingtonpost.com

I was staring at my computer screen reading this (ignoring bouncing ads on the side panel) and I actually started feeling like I wanted to cry. Not for Obama specifically, just because there are enough quarters of cities where things like this are still common wisdom.

Okay… I’ve already been studying, and I need to get back to it. This is a quick post. The stress is decently high. :-7 I’ve got to memorize the 18th-20th centuries of Christian thought. Final exam is in less than 24 hrs.

Just over 300 miles of distance separates the old Swiss Kesswill parish near Lake Constance and the plains of German Westphalia above the Rhine. But in the late 19^th century, two particular residents of each weren’t perhaps all that far apart. Both men were Lutheran pastors by training, and rational by disposition. Both had marriages that were at first hopeful but later degenerated to cold distance. Johann and Emilee were troubled by her melancholy despair; though she was the one with the wealth, she turned herself into a hospital for months after seeing spirits in her bedroom.[1] Caroline and August weren’t faring much better; she was dominated by her passionate but irritable husband. Their eventual separation was the scandal of the Society. But, before their troubles, both couples had sons they could be proud of; each would change the landscape of their respective fields. The German Rauschenbusch’s son was born first; they delighted in young Walter on October 4^th, 1861. The Jung’s son Carl—born on July 25^th, 1875—was 14 years younger, but would catch up quickly. 1912 would be a key year for both.

I’m not posting on my blog. I’m violating my rule of posting every other day. Argh! But I’m just too swamped. I’ve got a 15 page church history paper to write on C.G. Jung meeting Walter Rauschenbusch (in my mental fiction). And two final exams, including more history of Israel than it’s possible to, well, remember (notice lack of clever metaphor – too tired). They’re next Wed and Thurs.

I am however, excited about being out at Colorado LT in two weeks, but that’s what’s making the whole thing sticky-intense.

Okay, back to Psychological Types page 72.

I’ve been incommunicado because my weekend rushed into this Friday, May 2nd, which was my 30th birthday. Wow. Had a great time down here in Champaign – 30 of my friends (not planned like that) joined me at the Dawg Haus for:

• 80 pieces of Kentucky Fried Chicken (there’s a 1-800 number you order from with Cheery Chicken People on the other end)
• 20 lbs of mashed potatoes (I made them myself because I wanted to – plus, nobody knows my secret ingredient)
• 48 biscuits
• 3 lbs of buttered corn
• 1 gallon of thick sawmill gravy (5 sticks of butter and whole milk)
• adult picnic-ish drink of choice: hard lemonade.

Honestly, it was just what I wanted on my birthday: some of my closet friends just chillin’ around the DawgHaus and me getting to host it. There’s something about being able to give on your birthday that’s a lot better than getting. Or maybe in the new economy of God’s community, those categories aren’t even that helpful.
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Now playing: The Weepies – Hideaway
via FoxyTunes