Sorry folks--my blog entries have been nonexistent this month. Life's been pretty crazy, what with the opening of Elliott St. services (which are going very well) and work has been keeping me hopping. Guess that's a good thing, right?

Did any of you see Time a couple weeks ago? The cover article jumped out at me: "Does God Want You To Be Rich?" For those of you who don't know, I grew up hearing that God did indeed want you to be rich and healthy and have all the good stuff this side of heaven could provide. Prosperity Theology is what it's often referred to as; Name It and Claim It or Blab It and Grab It are some less-flattering descriptions. Apparently the message has softened just a bit since I was hearing it--proponents of it like Joel Osteen and Joyce Meyer won't usually go so far as to say God wants you rich, but they will say that God wants you to be happy and have good things in life. The author (who did a fine job on the article) also quoted more mainstream pastors like Rick Warren, who basically think the whole concept is a bunch of bunk.

Here's my major problem with all of this (and I have plenty): Who's at the center of this faith? Is Christ? Well, he's mentioned, and he's the one who makes this stuff possible, but it's not his desires I'm really worried about, unless they are good for me. Other people? Only so much as they have stuff that I think is good. Nope--the center of this faith is me. I want, nay need to be rich! I need to be healthy! I want all the good stuff of this life because I believe that Jesus owes it to me! Prosperity Theology is all about me. And frankly, that's the kind of life I want to leave behind, and that Christ calls us to toss for His sake.

I'm more and more beginning to think that truth and freedom actually lies in the opposite direction of Prosperity. Those who preach this stuff (at least the big names) are often doing so in front of huge, packed crowds, while wearing Armani suits and patent leather shoes. When they're done, they head into their 3000 square foot office with mahogany furniture and oak floors, and then drive their Bentleys back to the 25,000 square foot ranch house they had built on the side of a mountain overlooking a lake. They claim that Christ is their teacher, and that he wants them to have this stuff. Yet Christ, the Son of God, was born in a backwoods barn and was raised in subsistence. When he went into his fulltime ministry, he gave up any semblance of a paying career, and wandered the countryside as a homeless itinerant. He refused the honor (and probable wealth) of a crowd's adoration, choosing instead to tick people off by hanging out with those who had it worse than he did (mind you, this is a broke, homeless wanderer). This is the life we're called to model, and I believe this is the abundant life we're promised--one where we loose everything and gain more.

I could ramble about this for a long time, but you probably don't want to read that.  Maybe I'll write more later if you are so inclined. God in Christ calls us to loose ourselves in the service of Him and the people around us. If and when we start doing that, we won't have time for wealth--we'll be too busy really living to want it, anyway.

(Oh, if you want to read the Time article that sparked this, go here: http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1533448-1,00.html )

Going into this long weekend, I wanted to post this deep, meaningful, and ultimately life-changing observation about life on the North Shore. Read on, and be transformed:

I was getting onto 128 from Endicott St. yesterday afternoon. If you know anything about this procedure, it usually involves squealing tires, horribly placed stop signs, and hurriedly writing out your Last Will and Testament on a Dunkin Donuts napkin, because you are SURE the end is nigh. Okay, so it's not quite that bad...Regardless, I was behind two cars; a small white Toyota that had stopped at the end of the onramp so as not to be pulverized by oncoming traffic, and a small gray Honda who's driver was obviously right with the Lord, as he could care less about his bodily health. I can say that with complete assurance, because Gray Honda man decided he wasn't waiting for White Toyota person, hitting the gas and use his massive four-cylinder engine to speed past poor, safety-conscious White Toyota person.

White Toyota person and I were able to get on shortly after Gray Honda Speed Racer blew past us. So I'm hurtling along down 128 and pass White Toyota person...and see Gray Honda Speedy McQuickfast up ahead on the right! He's in the slow lane! Okay, I figure he must be getting off at the next exit. Nope, they go right past it as I pass them. I check to see what Gray Honda I Want To Be Ricky Bobby guy looks like...and notice he's not alone. He's definitely got a Gray Honda Gal Pal sitting in the passenger seat. Checking the rear view mirror, I see Gal Pal gesturing strongly, and probably giving Gray Honda Speed Machine what-for for pretending 128 was actually the track at the Indy 500. (Granted, that's not that much of a stretch, except that the Indy 500 is a bit safer, but I digress).

And so, kids, the moral of this story is to not be Gray Honda Pedal to the Metal man, because all it gets you is the wrath of those in the passenger seat, a trip to the slow lane where you're passed by those you tried to dust in the first place, and the scorn of us online scribes who like to point out such stuff. See? Didn't that just change your life forever? Aren't you inspired to go be a better person now?

Wait...it didn't? Oh...um...sorry about that. I guess, uh, have a great and safe holiday weekend, then. And watch out for Gray Honda Go, Baby, Go man.

I just noticed that when you open the men's bathroom door here at work, it makes a sound that eerily sounds like the famous two-note motif from Jaws. You know--du DUH! Feel free to draw any implications you wish from that little tidbit.

Okay, on to this serious blog entry. I was coming out of Stop n' Shop on Friday afternoon. I was hurrying a bit because I hadn't eaten dinner yet, and had the missing component in my hand (parchment paper, if you must know--I was making pizza using a stone and needed it to put between the dough and the stone). As I walked through the parking lot, I saw the back of someone who was putting their groceries in their car. He was obviously an older fellow. All I noticed was that his pants were sagging way too much, exposing more of his backside than I ever wished to see. I also saw some sanitary  undergarments (read Depends) poking out of his pants. "Well THAT'S just nasty!" or something similar ran through my head as I walked past him. And then I looked again. (Curiosity, I guess.) On the other side of him was one of those scooter-things stores provide for people who can't walk that much. Next to that was a walker. And it was very obvious he was struggling with his groceries, trying very hard to put the bags into his car while maintaining his balance. I didn't think to go and help him until I was actually in my car, and then, being the jerk that I am sometimes, I just drove away without saying a word to this man, who I now saw as a real person instead of some saggy pants with a bit of butt hanging out.

"...he had compassion on them..." You'll see these words a lot when Jesus encounters people. It really was his thing, to see people as people and love them that way. He never saw drunks or tax collectors or lepers or prostitutes, just friends who made some poor decisions but were still lovable and worthwhile. I didn't see the man in the parking lot as a person needing love or a friend. I saw him as saggy pants, as an intrusion on my landscape. And I confess, this is not the first time that's happened. I think, sadly, this happens with my quite a lot in my little world. I see the loud Hispanics, or the bum, or the addict, or the dangerous teenagers on the corner (not the ones in youth group, of course). God doesn't see those labels, though; he sees his children, and he longs to have them home.

The point of this? I need my heart changed if I want to see like Jesus does. No shock there, right? But here's the deeper question; do I really want to see like Jesus does? Because when you start doing that, then you start loving these folks. And if you love them, then you want to know them...uh oh, now I'm hanging out with loud Hispanics and bums and addicts and dangerous teenagers on the corner! What will people think? These folks are criminals, they have no future, they're the scum of society on the North Shore! I don't want to be with them! Except, that's where Jesus was when he walked the earth, with the criminal, futureless scum, loving them and welcoming them into the Kingdom. And as Jesus was and is God, that means the Almighty choose to spend his limited time on earth with them...which is exactly what we're called to do, isn't it?

I'm discovering that it's a dangerous business being a follower of Christ. To really love people, especially those the world has pretty much thrown aside, is disconcerting to many folks. I doubt I would have gotten in trouble for helping the man in the parking lot with his groceries, of course. But if I began to see all people like Jesus sees them...well, that might just lead me to some very outlandish behavior, might it? I do some pretty nutty stuff for the ones I love now. What if that love were taken hostage by God and increased to everyone I met? I'm pretty sure that would be very dangerous. I can't say for sure because I don't live that way right now. But something deep within me longs to live like that, even though it's dangerous. (Maybe because it's dangerous, who knows?)

What to you think? Have you ever felt anything similar? More importantly, what do we do about this? If it is right to live this way (and I'm operating under the assumption that it is--feel free to debate with me on that, if you want), how do we get from feeling it to being it? I don't have answers or anything, and I don't really expect you to, either. But together maybe we can discern where to go from here. I certainly hope so, anyway...

Currently Reading The Irresistible Revolution: Living as an Ordinary Radical By Shane Claiborne see related

This book I'm reading is really, REALLY mind-bending. It's one of those books that, though I really like, I really don't like all at the same time. I haven't finished it yet, so I don't really want to comment too much, but suffice it to say it's making me rethink a lot of what I do and why I do it.

That's it for now--get this book and read it if you're up for a challenge. If you want a glimpse as to how the book's concepts are being lived out, check this site out:
www.thesimpleway.org