R.I.P. Shane .... WTF!!!

Sorry about the title i dont encourage swearing and its a habit i constantly battle, but somtimes as is the case tonight its the only way i know how to express myself. This culture has made certain words even swear words so powerful that the words they replace seem feeble and dont seem to do the situation justice. So whats the situation? A good friend of mine has passed today. Good friend i have to admit is probably not the way most people would define my relationship with shane, since i havent spoken to him in months and rarely get to see him. But back while i was working at the eis house he worked with me for several years. Shane was an awesome guy. He was smart and had an awesome sense of humor and a smile that seemed to take over his whole face and was extremely contagious. when he was around you couldnt help but laugh or smile no matter how bored or fed up with work you were. And i failed him. I do not claim to know where shane rests tonight, but my religion tells me that i failed him. Not once do i believe i ever spoke to him about the loving god i had discovered, or about the son that loving god gave us as an example of how we ought to love our god back and love those around us. and for that i am sorry. i believe that god is a loving god and a god of grace, and tonight i have repeatedly begged god that whatever grace may have been granted to me, might pass to him.

when i heard of shanes death that phrase "wtf" was all i could muster the only thing that coursed through my mind, maybe its similar to the why question most people ask, but i didnt i just felt extreme anger. i hate it. then i punched the wall a couple of times and drove around and went for an hour walk before i cooled down and could think straight. and then my mind turned to those i still may have a chance to share my faith with. see i disagree with a message i heard this sunday. there was a team called team impact at our church which i greatly apreciate and can admire their conviction, but they spoke on sunday and gave us the "6" or so "steps to sharing your faith" and then preceded to pick out every verse in the bible that could scare the hell out of someone into becomeing a "christian" whatever that word means these days. see if i was to follow those steps it would not truly be me sharing my faith. because my faith does not reflect fear, my faith reflects love. and though i am an unworthy advocate it none the less is my faith. see even though this event does scare the heck out of me. it still is not reason for me to try to scare others into a fake faith. instead it makes me more detirmined to strive to follow the footsteps of christ and love others far above myself.

back when i was in LA i had this terrible feeling growing in me. one side was that somthing might happen to me while im out here and i'll never get to see my friends and family at home and in other places like alfred state and indiana. Not so much for my sake but because i began to regret not always showing them how much i cared about them and how much i appriciate them. i wanted to be there for them like for example, parkers, abbeys, and evans weddings. it isnt so much that i wanted to be there to see them get married for my own memories and enjoyment but i wanted to be there for them, for them to see me there and know i cared about themm and wished them the best of luck. and the other side, the nagging feeling in the back of my mind was what happens if i get home and someones not there? i was so terrified. honestly. and i still am, im scared that those i left in california might not be there by the time i find a way to go visit them, those i love in indiana and chicago, kentucky, new jersey, arkansas, illinois, and here in ny that i dont get to see often even though they are close. and so tonight that fear has come alive and defeated me, and grow so much larger for those remaining friends and family. and so i'd like to take a second to let you all know i love each and everyone of you and hope that i will see you again someday and maybe we can share a little bit about our philosophies on life and take time to focus on the things that really mater like eachother, and those that are suffering like shanes family and his friends that were so much closer to him then i. instead of always being concerned with other things that may range from alcohol and money to even things that are good but still absorb our time and blind us to people around us which are so much more important than tasks.

sorry for the rambling, i'll always remember you and miss you shane. godbless.



We Live By SuperChick :

There's a crossOn the side of the road
Where a mother lost a son
How could she know that the moring he left
Would be their last time she'd trade with him for a little more time
So she could she say she loved him one more time
And hold him tight
But life we never know
When we're coming up to the end of the road
So what do we do then
With tragedy around the bend?

We live, We love
We forgive and never give up
Because the days we are given are gifts from above
And today we remember to live and to love

The jeep, and me too...

So today I decided to pay some attention to my long neglected jeep. Its funny how the way you think of something is more of how it was, or the good memories you had with it. And then when you actually get up close and dig a little deeper you see how much its fallen apart and how terrible the condition has become. As I moved some of the weeds aside that had grown up next to the jeep, I found I giant dent in the fender. Great I thought no one decided to tell me they had an accident. Then I popped the hood, and became more angry…weeds had grown up all in the engine bay, there were snake skins under the hood, and your usual cobwebs and spider webs. Oh well I thought it will need some cleaning up. So I hooked up the battery jump pack and jumped in side. I turned the key and it turned over but wouldn’t start. So then I peeked under the hood and saw that there was fuel spraying all over the engine bay. So I quit for the night. I was actually pretty angry. But then I began to wonder just what I was angry at. In the end I decided I was only angry at myself for neglecting it, and letting it get into such terrible shape. So I made a silly decision that when I get it back up and running I should leave the fender the way it is with the huge dent as a reminder to me not to neglect it. So tonight I got in a weird mood and decided to go for a run. But as I ran the cold air burned my lungs, the pain in my legs, and the pounding in my head nearly got me to stop since it has been months since the last time I ran, but I kept going, because it was far less pain to endure then looking in the mirror. Its not looking at my physical condition that makes me angry, like the dent in my jeep, but the neglect of me, myself, the inner me. I decided to come home … for … a reason…? And regardless as to what that is, and if I’ve worked on that or not, I guess running tonight was my way of telling myself that I need to shape up and not just exist here at home. I’ve been letting myself go not really physically so much as everything else. I’ve just been existing, working, eating, sleeping. I wonder where my love of running, my love of reading and teaching and discussing my beliefs, and my desire to serve has gone. Just as I wondered where the great times in my jeep, and the once brand new parts on my jeep had gone. And so I hope that this is the beginning of something better not just me relaxed at home forgetting about all the issues and problems but rather than ignoring them embracing them and trying my best to do something about them regardless if it seems feasible. Maybe it wont only be my jeep that gets woken up and restored in the next few weeks.

Writers Cramp

This pad of paper has sat untouched for too long, I have neglected it for too long. I have not written my thots and heart on it for far too long. And yet as if it detects the writers stroke as non-existent and as if it has a will of it own to be dressed, to be altered, it grows dust and attracts particles to cover itself. It begins to let itself decay, for at least if it’s a fading color, that is some form of color in itself. It may not be what it wishes for. It might not be the result of its most desirable dreams, or even its own attainable potential but it is … something. It is enough to know that it still wills, and still exists. Even if it could be discovered that its existence is just a game, and all along someone has been pulling the strings, the strings still seem to follow its intentions for now. At least there is some control. It hurts me to know that in better hands it could have been transformed into beautiful art. In other hands it might have had the most beautiful of words written upon it. And even in its most terrible destruction, the fire that consumed it might have given some warmth or shed some light to some other thing. But since these uses, so attainable, so probable, so right, are denied, and denied, and denied again. I have found it to be the case that the longer it is denied or the longer it avoids its purpose the more damaged and disgusting it becomes. But the paper knows no better. It is afraid that if it is transformed into some beautiful art that it will lose what it used to be. For others will not see it as a mere piece of paper that has become something better. Others will only see the new beautiful work and praise it for what it now is. Not who it was and still is. The only difference being that it knows. It remembers what it was before it was redone, knowing it cannot be undone. Destroyed but not undone. And what worth is it to have beautiful words written over top of it. So that others read them, those outside things, and never see what it is. Never see it’s true identity, only browse of its most noticeable attributes. And then it thinks that though it may seem unproductive and even extremely destructive and it may appear as though it has even become overcome with some sort of lack of self worth, it may conclude that its best option is that of terrible destruction. For it is not some suicidal diseased mind that makes it want to destroy itself but rather it sees the beauty, the good, the possibility of helping someone else that would cause it to be at peace with his destruction. The basis for this thot trapped in the truth that the greatest act of love is to lay down his life for a friend. But he is not at peace with this seemingly final solution. And so he sits blank and unobserved. And through some will of his own to be dressed, to be altered, he grows dust and attracts particles to cover himself. I begin to let myself decay for at least my fading color is some form of color in itself. It may not be what I wish for. It might not be the result of my most desirable dreams, or even my own attainable potential but it is something. It is enough to know that I still will. I still exist, and even if I could discover that existence is just a game, and all along someone has been pulling the strings, the strings still seem to follow my intentions for now. At least there is some delusion of control.

Handlebars and Regrets

Handlebars - by Flobots

I can ride my bike with no handlebars
I can keep rhythm with no metronome
I can see your face on the telephone
I can lead a nation with a microphone
I can split the atoms of a molecule
I can guide a missile by satellite
and I can hit a target through a telescope
and I can end the planet in a holocaust
I can ride my bike with no handlebars


Its pretty obvious what the artist was going for when he wrote the song. It starts innocent but just because we can do something doesn’t mean we should. I’ve been thinking a lot lately which might be obvious by the fact that I just dropped out of college for this semester, or possibly indefinitely…, I know it seems lame but I’ve really been trying to figure out who I am. I am that kid that never sits still, I’m all over the place. In the last year I’ve been coast to coast on this continent, I’ve been to Europe, I lived in Los Angeles for 4 months, and in new jersey for 3months. But am I really just a person who loves adventure and travel? Or is it all a good excuse, a cover for the truth I’m not really trying to hide just avoiding since I don’t really know it myself. I’ve thought a lot about dreams and goals and stuff like that. And I’ve realized I don’t really have any. Most people, I think, if you asked them what they would want to be or do if they could be or do anything probably have an answer. Some are even dedicated to trying to become those things. I have nothing. My goal is to be not what I am. Not really anything in particular just something different. I’ve been trying to think of why that is, and I’ve been remembering a lot of things that happened that made me not want to be who I am. I walked my street where I grew up where my parents still live and I’m currently staying at. It’s the first time I really walked it in a long time. I’ve gone for runs around the block driven up and down it and all, but I was in one of my “deep thot” moods and was trying to remember what it was like when I lived here, like when I was a kid and this was my home home.

I remembered the neighbor across the street wouldn’t answer the door if we went over there for any reason like to sell candy bars when we were kids or whatever other reason.
I remember the next door neighbor wouldn’t speak to us and would purposely snub us.
I remember the other neighbors would complain because we let our grass grow too long and our yard wasn’t landscaped like theirs.
I remember our friend down the street that would play with us but in school she would pretend she didn’t know us, and her parents said we were destructive and disorderly.
I remember the other neighbor yelling at me and threatening to file charges or destruction of property when I peeled some of the bark off of her birch tree.
I remember some guy down the street stopping to tell us something I cant remember but saying something at the end like “I know how it is, my parents didn’t have money when I was young either” as if to somehow be in solidarity with me.
I remember being the only house on the street with a dirt driveway full of holes which were usually mud puddles.
I remember being poor and hating it.
I remember swearing to myself that I would never be like my parents,
I remember planning my escape, plotting to run away, counting down to things like getting my license or turning 18.
I remember hating school because all the kids picked on me and I found nothing but shallow friendship that ended when the other, cooler, kids were around.
I remember being mocked and called gay cuz I wasn’t as perverted and didn’t date as much as the other guys.
I remember the breaking point where I elbowed one kid in the face and then began punching him, and then that night vowing never to return to school.
I remember the countless days and nights of crying and making promises to myself that I’d get out that I’d go somewhere where no one knew me and start over.


And then I did I ran to Pulaski.
And then I ran to college.
And then I ran to my own apartment and alcohol.
And then I ran to Indiana.
And then I ran to a girl.
And then I ran back to Indiana.
Then I ran to LA.
Then I ran to NJ, to kill time before I could run back to Cali.
And now though I knew it was one last run I have run home, I have decided to attempt to deal with the lie I call myself. Not that I’m completely this totally fake person but anything less than the honest truth has to be a lie. And so I submit of few of my own lyrics to the song that aren’t necessarily bad, but again just because we can do something, doesn’t mean we should.


I can ride my bike with no handlebars.
I can drown out my thots with loud music.
I can drive my car faster than is intelligent.

I can move to Pulaski to escape my problems.
But lose contact with the few friends I had.
And not even go to my best friends fathers funeral.

I can work overtime at the Eis House.
But lose all the best weekends with friends,
and not go to dinner at my girl friends
grandmothers house who later died of cancer.

I can leave Alfred to escape the pain.
But abandon Mike, Bryan, and Wilson in the process.

I can drink away the memories.
But lose a part of my self and my reputation.

I can cheat on my girlfriend and run away to Indiana to avoid telling her.
But hurt someone so close to me, just to be with a girl who will throw me away.

I can find god in a sermon.
Just to throw away friends by becoming judgmental.

I can continue going to school in Indiana.
But lose contact with even more friends at home,
and become more distant from my family.

I can rock crawl in the badlands.
But I’d rather splash through mud puddles in happy valley with my friends.

I can travel to California for bragging rights.
And leave all my IWU friends, and forget my sister dorm.

I can become enlightened through a course I took for the wrong reasons.
But feel distant from my friends at home who think differently.

I can go for a run.
But its not the same with out my running buddy.

I can ride the bus or metro.
But its not the same without Kendra.

I can chill on top of rooftops in warm Los Angeles.
But I’d rather be in cold parking lots at home with the people I love.

I can walk the boardwalks in Santa Monica.
But I’d rather watch sunsets at Selkirk.

I can cruise down pacific coast highway.
But I’d rather race rob down 41.


I could move to New Jersey and inherit my grandfathers business.
But id rather struggle to create my own dreams and just to survive
here in New York if it means I can be with my friends and family that I love.


Heck I could take classes in Azusa and travel to south America. I could live in a beautiful apartment, with great people. And I could love it so much. I can wear my aviators and dress shirts and eat at “in and outs”, but I don’t think I would be being true to myself. I don’t think I can continue putting my friendships at home and now abroad at risk by living a life of doing what I want to do. I don’t think I can stand having a thousand shallow relationships and a million stories no one was there to remember with me, but having no one close enough to tell my secrets to, and no one to really care or understand me.


And I can run back to New York, where maybe I should have stayed all along to repair what’s left of fading relationships. But now I’ve made so many other friends and found so many people I care about in so many different places, that no matter which place I choose I leave behind someone that matters to me.


And I can do what I feel like I have to,
but leave you behind without even knowing if you feel the same as I do,
and still miss you regardless.


And of course I can ride my bike with no handle bars.

I Miss You, I'm Sorry.

Lately I’ve been mostly lost and disappointed. I haven’t felt much of an urge to write, because I haven’t felt much of anything lately. But this blog is sort of where I’ve been the last while and a sort of collage of my thots that though may have been written never made it here to this blog. A couple things have happened between LA and now. I was in Europe for two weeks and during a Sunday morning “meeting” where our professor lead us in a “service” in a garden in Berlin I was reminded strongly of things I had felt and learned in LA and then he read us a prayer of saint Francis of Assisi:


May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers,
half truths and superficial relationships so that you may live deep within your heart.
May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people,
so that you may wish for justice, freedom, and peace.
May God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in this world,
so that you can do what others claim cannot be done.


That set me ablaze again for returning to LA, doing ministry, being like Shane Claiborne, what ever you want to call it. But then the rest of the trip went by, and soon I found my self back in the states and though I remembered the prayer I had lost the burning. Then one night at youth group something broke I began to scribble the thots on a hand out instead of listening to Adam preach, we sang the song “your grace is enough” and this was a few days after I got the chance and finally decided to return to APU. This is what I scribbled down:

Your grace is enough…
Why is it that I am so easily distracted? Not by anything particularly bad, just stuff. I am just so easily amused… But then as soon as I see you(God), whether it is in youth group during worship, or in the faces of the migrants in Mexico, or in the shouts in a march for justice, in the voices of my comrades, in the understanding of those that have experienced what I have, I just feel you. I remember. And I am beyond satisfied. I am cured of the itch for new things, I am cured of lust, I am cured of everything and in that moment its worth it. I promise you: “I will do what ever you lead me to do, as long as I find those moments, as long as I find you, and even if I don’t I will strive with every last breath to get over the mountain top to see your face again because I know that those who seek you always find you, and that your grace truly is enough.”

And then I decided to move to New Jersey to work for my grandfather… I got to go to a pretty amazing multiracial church there and felt so at home again. I miss that so much about LA. I was reminded again of my fellow LA termites, and missed them a lot when the pastor spoke on acts 4. The people in this chapter that had put Peter and John on trial were so struck with the fact that they were so confident and so sure of themselves and then realized that these were laymen with no training in scripture or formal education. They couldn’t say anything against them. And then, and this is what struck me, is that they had to take note that truly these men had been with Jesus. See there’s something about Jesus that changes you. And people can see it. I’ve seen it in my comrades in LA, I’ve seen it in the eyes of my friends at home. And as I remember all of the times I’ve seen it in each one of them, each one of you reading this, first I nearly cry... honestly…, and then I must truly take note that you have surely been with Jesus, there’s no other reason for your actions. But still I miss my friends from LA, because we’ve been through so much together, we’ve been through those moments together where we’ll never forget seeing Jesus in each other, and sometimes I feel like the thots I try to relay to others that were not there don’t have validity, like my thots and feelings are my own against an entire world of non understanding ness. But still I want those at home to realize how much I literally crave their company, how much pain their absence causes me, and how I so wish to let them be a part of my mind and thots. How hard it is to leave them all, when all I want is to sit around fires, sit on beaches, stand in parking lots, stay up late and just be with them, be with you. But as the song I sang in church this morning says, “Your all I want, your all I ever needed, I’ll lay it all down again, just to hear that I’m your friend.”


And I’m sorry but he has become all I want. His grace has proven to be more than enough. God has blessed me with enough foolishness to believe that I can make a difference in this world,
so that I can do what others claim cannot be done. And though I feel so sad, that I have let you all down, that I continually leave your company. Like I’ve lost so much. I will lay it all down again just to hear him say that I’m his friend. And this does not mean I wish to do it alone. I wish others would feel this way as well, or have the courage to admit that they do, and rid themselves of the fears of not succeeding in this game of life our society has dreamed up for itself and forced us to try to live up to. Because I myself am so afraid, and I desire one, just one, to come along side me. Because as Martin Luther King Jr. said its not being unafraid that makes you strong or makes you brave, its having the courage to go on even though you are terrified.

Governments should be afraid of their People

I know not how my words are of any use anymore. I know not how I can be of service or even of use to anyone. I know not how this world can change and how it can truly be better for everyone. But maybe that’s ok.

I've come to a place where I must wonder why I continue. If not I would not be human. I have become desperate. I have seen all this pain and yet if it were not for the very privilege I now find that I despise, how would I know of it? I have come to wonder what it is we strive for. But perhaps there is not a goal to struggle to achieve, except to embrace the goal of struggle itself.

I find myself surrounded by those that also have become weary. But in their weakened state they have found this "righteous anger" which burns for change. This burden for mankind has become entangled in their rage against those that oppress. They talk of policy and of a utopian society where all struggle is eliminated. Where all people can have... Have what? What are we seeking?

I would love for this country to embrace "Christian" values. I would love for us to vote in a good "real" Christian president. I would love for all our laws to be just. But is that the point? All good and well but is it intended to be first on our agenda? We speak of Jesus and his goals as political campaigns. Jesus the politician... Bullshit. Jesus never came to change the law of the Romans. Jesus never came to free the Jews from roman rule. Jesus said give to Caesar what is Caesars. Yes Jesus shook up his nation and people. Yes Jesus did have a "social justice" agenda. But not in the way we argue in our activist mindsets.

Jesus did everything in Love. Jesus changed things not by attacking people and saying your wrong but doing things so right, so perfect that people could no longer do things the way they previously did.

There was a story brought up in my class about how there were some migrants coming over the border and out of need for water they would go into backyards and drink from hoses in Texas communities. And so homeowners began to build fences to keep out the unwanted guests. So often church and state become so mixed and law seems so good to us Christians that we are able to justify the response as protecting ourselves, "we don't know them, they could be dangerous", and saying "well they are breaking the law" "they deserve it". What if instead of all this the church in that community had preached a message of loving our neighbors? What if pastors had the boldness to preach "the sheep and the goats story" "where God was thirsty and we gave him nothing to drink" despite their congregants unwillingness to hear it? Or maybe the members didn’t even know and needed that little push from the pulpit to get out there and do it. What would it look like if the church superseded law?

If we look at the African American struggle for justice we see a huge involvement from, not the whole church but, the African American church and some other churches that were willing to "stand up and be counted". Many times pastors such as Martin Luther King Jr. broke the law. Unjust laws.

This is because we are not first citizens of the US, we are citizens of "God's kingdom here on earth" first and secondly citizens of this nation. While we still have a duty as a citizen of this nation to vote accordingly for justice issues and work to bring them to the public spotlight, our primary goal is to emulate the love Jesus demonstrated here on earth.

I love the quote from the movie V for Vendetta that says, "People should not be afraid of their Governments, Governments should be afraid of their People." Jesus may never have had the direct intention of changing roman law, but through loving others and setting an example people couldn’t help but to copy, He started a revolution in which He and those that followed Him no longer feared their Government, But instead His government feared Him and His following, so much indeed that they would crucify, the highest punishment, a "peasant", a "homeless man", a technically powerless and wealth less man.

Again as citizens of this nation we are responsible to help guide it through policy and such, but what would it look like if instead of that our actions would speak so loud that our government would have no choice but to go along with us. (I'm sorry that the topic of immigration is my main example but it has become close to my heart) What if, for example, instead of building walls to exclude those who were breaking the law, and protect our selves we went down and handed out water to those who are thirsty, or fed those that are hungry?

Isn’t this against the law? Wouldn’t we be aiding and abetting a criminal? Heck nowadays this is a matter of "national security" we may be labeled a terrorist. But what if instead of fearing a government, or not even fearing but just standing silent in order to maintain status quo and protect "our" freedom, we obeyed God's commandments first? What would the government do if the entire church went down to help those in need, or began caring for those that are here, or Christians began giving jobs to those that need work to feed their families? What if at least 3/4s of our nation, us "Christians" cared for the alien among us.(Deuteronomy 10:17-19, 14:19)? The tide would shift to where instead of culture infecting church, God's church would become so anti culture that culture itself would change. Wouldn’t our Government, not necessarily fear us, but at least have to rethink its policy? I am convinced that it would. I am convinced that we as the church are not to be impacted by culture but that we are to impact culture.

This "ideology", as it has become labeled, is obviously not as "task oriented" or progressive as activism. Arguing with people until you get your way and are able to pass laws that force others to "be nice" is obviously a faster route. But does this solve anything? "The early church was called The Way. It was not called The Answer or The Destination. Those who follow Jesus are searchers on a Way that never arrives in this life." - Dennis A. Jacobsen. Spiritually there is a question that we ultimately must answer. Because if we do good, and follow the example of Jesus just to get something in return(heaven) then we miss the point. We must ask ourselves, If there was no heaven, If there was nothing after this life, If all it is is you die and there is nothing more, Would you still follow Jesus? As if that’s not difficult enough I'd like to pose the same question in a different way. If there will never be a utopia, If there will always be poor among us, If we cannot "fix" human suffering, Will you still Love? If our nation and this world cannot come to agreement, If they cannot establish laws that protect the oppressed and make this world more just for all, Will you instead give up the privilege that same society gave to you and be in solidarity with the poor? Will you stop arguing and pick up your cross, deny yourself, and follow him? Many times we think of carrying our cross to follow Jesus to heaven. But though I have faith that is one day where it will lead, I think Jesus' cross lead him to love the unlovable, and befriend the friendless, and ultimatly to death. So many times we follow Jesus, with our cross, but see the death as just a means for our salvation, which it is, but it is also the cost. There is a cost and though only Jesus can pay it for our sins, it is also our cost. (if we are followers of Jesus we don't only get to follow the good stuff we get to follow the hard parts too)

What would it look like if we all died to our selves, not to our personal sins to become "good people"(which is just selfish and arrogant), but died to everything that is us just to give something, some unworthy gift, to someone who has nothing. And "In the courtyard of such death, ...(we) proclaimed the resurrection of Christ, the unbending hope in the power of life, the unyielding belief that God, not death, has the last word." - Jacobsen.

This blog sometimes goes astray, but it is my intention, as I have labeled it, for it to reflect the deep burning of my heart. And as laying these burdens often leads me to growth through correction, also my convictions are strengthened and I beg you that (to steal another line from V) "if you see what I see and you feel as I feel" you too will no longer keep silent. For I find truth in the words of Jeremiah which were also quoted by Jacobsen in my reading tonight, "O Lord, you have enticed me and I was enticed; you have overpowered me, and you have prevailed... For the word of the Lord has become for me a reproach and derision all day long. If I say, "I will not mention him, or speak anymore of his name," then within me there is something like a burning fire shut up in my bones; I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot" (Jeremiah 20:7-9)

Where Is My Mind? Maybe I’ve Gone Too Far...

With your feet in the air
and your head on the ground
Try this trick and spin it, yeah
Your head will collapse
But there's nothing in it
And you'll ask yourself

Where is my mind [3x]

Way out in the water
See it swimmin'

These lyrics from the pixes song "where is my mind?" might be familiar to you from the ending of the movie fight club, for me it is a lyric that plays over in my mind, and when it does I once again find myself identifying spiritual qualities to music. This isn’t for everyone, its just the way I feel like God communicates with me sometimes. But anyways, when this lyric plays over and over in my mind, I start to search deeper and wonder "where is my mind?". As of late I can fully admit to and this blog is evidence of the fact that my mind has been elsewhere, and not where it needs to be.

I find that the questions David Ziggler used to ask us "where is your heart" and "what’s nipping at your heels" are beneficial to discus with your friends and fellow believers. I'll start with the later because its the "bad news" and maybe we can get to some form of good news before this is over. The truth is that life has been nipping at my heels, but not what matters in life, just the things that ensnare us, just the junk, which we have to be careful to continually examine ourselves for because it can be very "good" things we get caught up in. But lately the question of where I will go next semester, when I will get to leave and see my dearly missed friends and family, when I’ll get to drive my car and turn a wrench on the jeep, when ill get to do what I want. all good things, but all things we are never promised, and things we do not deserve to expect. Thus these reasons have kept my God from my mind except for that small fraction of time that I cleverly disguise as plenty of time, and I suppose in a less important way have kept me from this blog.

Where is my heart... Hmmm maybe we wont get to any good news... For tonight as I spill over the lyrics and recite the song as its sound assaults me at full volume, I have nothing but remorse to offer for where my mind has been, but I will finally spit out where it is if I can. Its something that I fear words can not explain, for I have heard the stories, I have seen the pictures, I have donated the money, but my eyes today have seen and my ears have heard the stories and my heart has wept.

Tonight my mind is with a man who's name my arrogance and culturally illiterate "education" have robbed me of. I will never forget his face, but since his name is Spanish and I could barely understand it, I will not be able to lift him by name in my prayers tonight, although I assure you he will be in them. He is a man who was deported yesterday for being an illegal immigrant.
I don’t care to know the images and stereotypes that just filled your mind, because until today they were mostly mine as well. But today a new image was instilled, one that I so desperately hope I can instill in yours. First I want to apologize because ignorance is truly bliss and the image of some one breaking the law, someone who "deserves it", someone who is different from ourselves and therefore some how not entitled to the same privileges we enjoy and should just "go back where they came from" is an easier one to deal with, it is harder to deal with the fact that he has been living and working in the United States for the last 15 years. 15 years. most of you that read this are probably under 30, if you are 20 the example works even better. Imagine (if you are 20) that when you were 5 years old your parents moved to another country, you grew up speaking their language and then one day you are deported back "where you came from" how can this be, wouldn’t you feel as if that’s not your home? you might say: well yeah I was born there but this is where I live, this is where I go to school, this is where my friends are, this is where I go to church... the mission I visited today in Tijuana serves those who were recently deported. They told us of a man who lived in the united states for 53 years and then was deported. 53 years. if you couldn’t wrap your mind around 15 years good luck, if your 20, now imagine living here for another 33 years and then someone telling you "go home" aren’t you all ready home? this man I talked to, the one who lived in the US for 15 years, was deported without warning, he said yesterday he woke up in Pomona, CA, which is minutes from Azusa CA where my school is based out of, and by the end of the day he was in Tijuana Mexico. As if that’s not bad enough for himself, it gets worse, he is a proud father of 4 children, all of whom were born in the US and are legal citizens, the ages are 15, 12, 9, and 6. Imagine his wife trying to explain to the 6 year old why daddy isn't coming home. Heck take a stab at explaining it to the 15 year old. And you cant even blame it on him, because he loves his children and did everything he could to provide the best for them, and wishes with everything inside him to be home with them. Now his family must leave their home, school, friends, and church (yes church even illegal immigrants love Jesus!) to be with their father, and in doing so must "take a vow of poverty". Then there’s the sick twist that since they are citizens they have to wait to get their passports before they leave... So he is looking at a minimum of 2-3 months alone in a country he hasn’t been to in over 15 years to wait for his family, job less , and homeless. And we cry "God bless America".

If you think this story is not common, think again. The mission houses 80 men a night they are allowed to stay a maximum of 12 days to try to find a job or to contact relatives for money or housing. The mission served just over 10,000 people last year, and since it has been open has become the temporary home of 170,000 "displaced persons". One of our guides, a Lutheran pastor in san Diego, said it this way "how come these issues never come across the pulpit? wouldn’t we want to do something if we knew?, did you here about this? I didn’t! I was too busy hearing about forgiveness of sins and how to get to heaven."

Sadly this is Christian America, we are looking to be entertained by church. We give pats on the back and say good word this morning pastor! we some how incorporate our arrogance in to church service by pledging allegiance to the flag after 9/11 in service and making sure we pray for "the boys" in Iraq while rarely if ever remembering to pray for the families in Baghdad. Am I unpatriotic, no I love America this place is great, but we must not mix our allegiance, We are citizens of the kingdom of heaven(here on earth) first and "Americans" second. When we cannot distinguish the two is when these issues where the church should be loving others and saying I turn my other cheek get lost and forgotten. We get caught up in this patriotism and as "Christian Americans" we love everyone... who is an American.

I read a terrifying passage in Shane Claiborne’s "irresistible revolution" just the other day. He was talking about this very topic, and I’m probably basically plagiarizing him in most of what I’ve written but there is one paragraph where Shane asks a ten year old just days after the attack on September 11th what we should do. He said "well those people did some thing evil” “but I always say two wrongs don’t make a right, it doesn’t make sense for us to hurt them back. Besides we are all one big family.” How shocking that was too read, how come I was not strong enough to respond in such a way? How come the church was not strong enough to respond in such a way? What would it have looked like if instead of God bless America, and pledging allegiance to the flag in church, which contributed to a patriotic complex, which according to the words of Martin Luther King Jr. “only lead to violence“, we publicly said we love and forgive you Osama bin laden?

Maybe I’ve gone too far, maybe loving our enemies isn’t “popular” with Christians today. Or maybe that’s our good news. Maybe that’s something we can get excited about. Could we get excited about finding ways to do something that is difficult but yet God’s will? Could loving illegal immigrants and terrorists be that thing that sparks the life back into Christianity, where we leave our melodramatic, apathetic, comatose “religion” behind and the world will have no choice to say “who are these that love despite the terrible things done to them?” “who are these that would give up everything the world says they are entitled to and follow in the footsteps of a mere carpenter, denying themselves everything and holding others needs above themselves”???? After experiencing these things, it is impossible to find any vindication in the “American dream” I cant think about a boat and a big house when all I want right now is for my new Mexican/American friend to hold his children. How can we desire a heaven and forgiveness of sins if are heart is busy burning for and loving those in need? Could it be that our individualistic selfishness has permeated church? And we are so busy with securing our salvation that we have no time to help those in need? I am not saying go sin and help others, I am saying truly love, with your whole heart, and there will be no room for sin.