truth, seeking, and perspective

I was reading Brian McLaren's open letter to Chuck Colson and the response he received. The letters got me thinking about what exactly we imply when we say we know the truth or that we are seekers.

The two take differing perspectives when it comes to defining truth. Brian, on one hand, approaches it by recognizing that there are many different levels or kinds of truth. By doing this he is acknowledging that, for example, something a Christian holds as truth may not be truth for a non-Christian. He also looks at truth from a more human view: telling the truth (not lying), knowing what is true or real (what can you concretely observe in the world around you), etc. Colson, instead turned to the Truth, you know... the Truth as written in the bible. The problem with truth as it applies to people, is that everything we as a society hold to be true is always filtered through our own current cultural lens. Taking it a step further, our own personal experiences will further filter and refine what we consider to be truth.

Colson states that he is a seeker, and that he knows the Truth. His truth here mainly refers to God's divine revelations to humanity, and his seeking is his attempts to do God's work in the world. I feel, however, that part of being a seeker in a sense implies that you don't know the truth; that part of your journey is to discover bits and pieces as you strive to follow Christ. If you claim to already know the truth, then what are you seeking? To me it would seem that a perspective like that is one of following Jesus with blinders on, you've found the truth and written down - so you are all set and trucking down the road to meet up with Jesus. To me being a seeker is more like orienteering, you know... wandering through the woods with a compass and a map. Your map tells you where you are headed, your compass gives you a way to check your direction, but the landmarks around you are what allow you to verify where you are in the moment. What good is a map if you don't have some kind of compass? Or a compass without a map? Does a map of the Rocky Mountains help if you are hiking in Berkshires? As a seeker, you need to be like an orienteer, constantly stopping to check your surroundings, direction, and progress.

I don't claim to have the truth, nor do I even claim that I am right. To me it feels right, and so far my map and compass seem to be working out fairly well. Again, it all comes down to perspective and how the truths that are revealed to us by God are incorporated in our lives. Trying to spread the message with your own personal perspective can cause more harm than good at times, especially in an intellectual culture like we have in the world today. Just because someone tells me something is true and right is no reason to accept that as absolute truth. I find that if I sit down and dig into it more, question it, really bring my full focus to bear then I can truly understand it and embrace it as my own. You want a really interesting experiment, try this on for size. Sit down someplace quiet and ponder, "Why do I believe that God exists?" The following canned answers (or slight variations there of) do NOT apply for this exercise:

• I read it in the Bible, and I believe it.
• I just look at nature and know.
• I can't explain it, I just do.

If you really think this through, your reason will not be short, it will not be contrived, and it will strengthen your faith. The other added benefit, when someone asks you this question you will be able to sit down with them and give them a deeper, more meaningful answer - one that hopefully will trigger the seeker in them and start them on their quest for God and truth.

fruitful blog surfing

Found this blog today, jason clark, interesting entry about his Ash Wednesday experience. I really like the bit about the matches...

Also found the emergent-us blog, seems like a good place to take stock of what is happening there.

Sidenote, interesting happenings with Brian McLaren... he was part of a panel on Larry King Live. Check out the transcript. Also, there is "review" of sorts here from one of his friends.

benefits and drawbacks of comfort

I've been thinking a lot lately about comfort and it occurred to me that it can be both a blessing and curse. Think about the Dead Sea as an example, and yes I know it is a rather odd example but just go with me on this one. The salinity of the Dead Sea is ten times higher than that of the world's oceans, and because of this unusually high salt content there are some interesting facts. Due to the highly saturated nature of the water, the density is high enough that people literally float in the water with no effort at all (like a cork). Also, the high concentration of minerals makes the water particularly healthy for your skin; it's like a gigantic natural aromatherapy bath. Finally, the Dead Sea is the lowest land elevation on earth and this means that the air is 5% more oxygen-rich. Sounds like a very comfortable place to be, floating on the water, breathing easy, and soaking some minerals into your skin.

Only, now stop and think about what happens when it's time to leave. The higher density of the water makes it difficult to swim; your buoyancy combined with the "thick" water means slow progress. The high salt and mineral content means you cannot drink the water, it would be deadly if ingested (hence the lack of fish in the sea). Once you finally get out of the water, if you couldn't rinse yourself off, the minerals would begin to crystallize on your skin, wick away moisture as it did so, and possible clog the pores causing more harm than it did good. If you spent a long time in the area of the Dead Sea your body would become acclimated to the more oxygenated air, which means upon leaving you would tire more quickly at higher elevations until you reacclimate.

Being comfortable isn't necessarily a bad thing, unless it prevents us from experiencing new things. Having places of comfort gives us an oasis, a place of rejuvenation where we can replenish our health mentally, physically, and spiritually. However, spending too much time in our oasis can cause us to resist changes because of the temporary discomfort that we know it will bring. What if this new place we visit is not as comfortable as what we are used to? What if we cannot do the same things there as we can here? What if (gasp) we actually like the new experiences, then what will happen to our old place of comfort?

Maybe it's just me... I don't fear change, I thrive on new challenges and experiences. For how can you truly know yourself unless you have experienced different people, places, activities, and scenarios that stretch the boundaries of who you are?

it's not about the black smudge

Yesterday was Ash Wednesday, although not being Catholic I've never really celebrated or fully understood it. However, my wife is and does, so I decided to join her and attend this service to see what it was all about.

My pre-conceived notion was that the ashes had something to do with Palm Sunday and that was about it. After my wife and I had been engaged, I also found out that Ash Wednesday marked the beginning of Lent - a 40 day period of fasting prior to Easter. It turns out there is a lot more to this annual ritual than getting ashes smudged on your forehead, there is a lot of symbolism. So starting with the obvious - what exactly is the deal with the ashes? Well it turns out I was partially right, the ashes are the saved burnt remains of the palm fronds from last year's Palm Sunday service (celebrating Jesus' triumphant procession into Jerusalem). The ashes are a symbolic acknowledgement of our mortality, that from dust we came and to dust we will one day return. They are marked in the shape of a cross to symbolize ownership to Christ and that you are beginning a fast of penance. While the Day of Ashes is not a Catholic holy day of obligation (if it were, as a Catholic you would have to go), they encourage it since it is a fitting personal committment to spend the season of Lent in prayer, repentance, and humble service.

All in all, it was an enjoyable experience. The priest made some humorous comments about how Ash Wednesday is not all about getting the ashes! I also found it inspiring that he made reference to how many children give up candy for Lent, only to store up what they would have eaten for mass consumption on Easter. Using this example, he challenged everyone to instead to take whatever you choose to abstain from and use it for reaching out to the community; whether that be donating food that you have abstained from, or refocusing your energy towards charitable work. Not being sure whether I was allowed to particpate since I am not Catholic, I sat in silent prayer while everyone got up to receive ashes. Maybe I will do some more research on that because I found it to be a very meaningful ceremony that other Christian communities could benefit from.

trying to curl up in a comfortable blanket

So there I was, out on one of my daily lunchtime walks. Normally, I would walk without any music, instead enjoying the quiet time to reflect on faith, spirituality, and other things as they relate to my life and outlook in this 21st century. Following my walks, I would typically jot down whatever new earth-shattering revelations or perspectives I had mused upon. However, this time was different, I had taken a break from waxing philosophical and instead had popped my new favorite band (Switchfoot) into my Sony NetMD and struck out on my usual route. I still had spiritual issues dwelling in the back of my mind, but instead I let the music and its lyrics take the forefront. That walk was very inspirational, the lyrics that Switchfoot has in their album The Beautiful Letdown are very subtle at first, but also very potent when you go back and really listen. I attempted to sit down and write about that walk, in my own primer for 21st Christianity, but I couldn't do it. Instead I went back and re-read what I had already and reflected on what it was I really was trying to accomplish - and it hit me. I was writing down my perspective and understanding of what 21st century Christianity should be, because I wanted others to believe what I believed. It would become my standard of comparison for church communities, something I could use to determine if they agreed with me. I am actually being a little hard on myself, but the core of what I was trying to do was essentially creating a new, warm and fuzzy blanket of religion that I could curl up in with my spirituality.

You ever notice what happens when you curl up in a blanket? First, you kind of wrestle with the blanket trying to make sure that every part of you is covered up. Then you feel a draft, so you start tucking the blanket in closer around yourself. Perhaps now there is no draft, but its not warm enough so you curl up a little more concentrating your warmth. Finally, everything is perfectly warm and cozy, only problem is now you don't want to move. Now that you are warm and comfortable you don't want to leave where you are or open the blanket up. The blanket which previously was a tool to warm you up, has now become the reason for you to remain static, fixed, unchanging, closed off. The blanket which at first was a really great idea, has now become a self-imposed prison.

I still walk almost everyday, or at least as often as my schedule allows, but no longer hammer out the details of my personal religious beliefs for insertion into my own "Postmodern Christian Primer". I might go back and re-engineer it into a thought-provoking essay about being a technological, scientific, intellectual, philosophical, happily-married 21st century Christian... but that's a topic for another day.