9 posts tagged “faith”
It's funny how things just seem to work out perfectly sometimes. I don't know if it's correct or not to say that it's God doing, but often I think that could be appropriate. He really does look after me, in ways that I could never imagine.
For example, earlier this week I was stressing over certain aspects of election, theology, faith, and assurance. Then I just happened to stumble upon this gem of a sermon by J.C. Ryle on an almost equally gem of a blog. I won't really go over it here, because there's nothing more that I could possibly add to Ryle's superb writing style and his insight into faith and assurance. I know that I had had one really long and vague blog post planned, because my thoughts were scatterbrained. But then I read Ryle's sermon, and I really found a selection of his text expressed everything that I've been wanting to say about faith for a while, and in so many less (and more eloquent) words. Take a gander, read the rest, and have a great day everyone!
I believe it ought to be our continual aim and desire to go forward; and our watchword at the beginning of every year should be, “More and more” (1 Thess. iv. 1): more knowledge,-more faith,-more obedience,-more love. If we have brought forth thirty-fold, we should seek to bring forth sixty, and if we have brought forth sixty, we should strive to bring forth a hundred. The will of the Lord is our sanctification, and it ought to be our will too. (Matt. xiii. 23; 1 Thess. iv. 3.) -- J.C. Ryle (1816-1900)
Recently, I've been thinking about the concept of guilt and what relevance it has (if any) in our lives as Christians. We've all felt guilty about something at some point in our lives. Usually it's a good thing, because it lets us know what we've done wrong, and gives us some incentive to think about our actions and not repeat them. Other times, of course, guilt can lead to despair and allow us to think of ourselves as worse off than we are. That type of guilt is self-centered, and can lead us away from Christ instead of closer to Him.
It's finding the balance that is the problem. For example, I would really like to feel guilty every time I sin. Often times, I'm sure I sin without even realizing it (like when saying a sarcastic remark that could hurt a person's feelings, or perhaps entertaining some not-so-wholesome thoughts in the back of my mind, or perhaps some other habitual behavior of mine that I don't even recognize as sinful). The guilt could clue me in to what I have done wrong, and give me a chance to repent more earnestly and strive to live more faithfully in the future.
At the same time, I've had the experience of being overwhelmed with guilt before, and it's not very nice. Perhaps for certain sins a lot of guilt is appropriate (mainly sins that hurt others). At the same time, if that guilt makes people unable or unwilling to talk to God and have confidence in the fact that they are, indeed, forgiven for their sins, then it isn't a good thing. Every Christian should be aware of when and how they sin and work against the sin in their lives. However, if the guilt they feel makes them believe that they are unworthy of God's love or are not, after all, saved, then it is not healthy, and needs to be put in check.
That's really all the thoughts I have on the issue. It's just a random musing going through my head. Feel free to talk and discuss. I should be around. Hope you're all having a good day!
I'm not sure if I've written about this before or not, but I love new beginnings. Doesn't matter if it's a new day, new month, new week, or new year. I just love the feeling of starting over, even though it's mostly an illusion. Life is a continuum, not a chapter book, but the latter is how I treat it a lot of the time.
I suppose I simply like the idea of having life all neat and tidy and in clear-cut stages. I have a tendency to live my life like it's a chapter book. I'll be on a spiritual high where I'm feeling good and am relatively pure, then I'll have a moment of weakness and sin in a "major" way that will make me sulk around for a few days or weeks while I doubt my own salvation and whether or not God has really worked any transformation in my life. Then some new week or month will roll around and I'll perk up, and the whole cycle will start over again.
Now, I know that the Christian life has spiritual ups and downs. C.S. Lewis wrote extensively on this in "The Screwtape Letters." However, I feel that my spiritual ups and downs are too frequent and too extreme. Compared to what, you might ask? Good question. I really don't know. My mind says "other Christians" but, to tell the truth, it's not like other Christians would really be able to tell if I was on a spiritual low. It's really a personal thing, and from all sources I've read it's relatively normal to experience. How a Christian deals with it, I gather, is the important part. Frankly, I don't know how.
I just don't like the lows. I enjoy and am at the most wonderful state of peace and strength when I am on a spiritual high -- when I'm connected to God, overcoming temptations easily, praying like I've never prayed before, and truly desiring to be deep in God's Word. When the lows hit, though, it can be devastating. I become truly desperate for God and the slightest glimmer of evidence that He's working in my life. You've probably seen the cycle play out in this blog several times before.
Right now I'm entering a new month with "new" resolve to be pure and obedient to Christ. Hopefully it will last, and even more hopefully I'll be able to reflect on the experience in a way that is Christ-centered instead of self-centered.
Of course, I'm not the only person who likes new starts. Trendy female singer-songwriters like them too, and of course, knowing me, I have a song and a YouTube video for every occasion. Enjoy Yael Naim and the song "New Soul," from the most recent MacBook commercials.
I am truly blessed. It's hard to realize how blessed you are when you're surrounded by so much noise in the form of television, movies, music, video games, et al. There's just so much complicated stuff going on that you can't sit back and realize what a wonderful gift the "small," essential things can be. When you put yourself near those that have less, though, it's easy to see how much you've been given.
This past weekend I worked at a homeless shelter, serving lunch to those who do not have the same things I do. It was a cold and icy morning outside, but I got to wake up warm in my bed, put on a nice big coat, and drive my heated car to the shelter. I also grabbed a granola bar for breakfast on my way out, forgetting that so many people would find that a precious luxury.
Honestly, these people have nowhere to go, and nothing about them really struck out as "homeless." According to the other workers there, when they are done with lunch many of them make their way to Wal-Mart or the mall (on a nice day, of course). That blew my mind. People I pass on the street might not have anywhere to go. They might not have food to eat. Not even a little granola bar as they walk out the door.
The experience was so humbling, I just have to go back. I have this burning desire to serve the needy now, to show the love of Christ, and even share the Gospel, which is the greatest blessing of all.
This past weekend, Hitch and I went to go see the controversial new fantasy film, The Golden Compass, based on the novel Northern Lights by Philip Pullman, the first book in the author's His Dark Materials trilogy. Knowing ahead of time the author's atheistic worldview and intent, but not having read the book itself, made the experience an interesting one.
I like to start off talking about the things I liked, and there were many things about the movie to like. Nicole Kidman did a great job playing the icy villain Mrs. Coulter (any possible relation to Ann, I wonder?) The visual effects were awesome. The world of The Golden Compass is full of airships, pirates, ice castles, semi-Victorian architecture, witches, gypsies, you-name-it. It's a joyful fantasy world, and the film did a good job of rendering it beautifully and realistically.
Also, filmmakers are just getting better and better at making talking animals, and watching The Golden Compass makes that clear. In the film, every humans soul is on the outside of their body, represented by an animal spirit called a "daemon." So, in every scene you would not only have actors, but an equal number of CGI dogs, birds, wolves, foxes, cats, hares, etc. The great thing is that the filmmakers did this exceptionally well, and by the end of the movie you really don't notice anymore, and you wonder why everyone around you doesn't have a daemon with them. I like the concept of daemons, and on the movie website (linked in the first paragraph), you can take a personality quiz to determine what kind of daemon you would have. Turns out mine is a female chimpanzee named Azaria. Cool. :)
Now... On to the bad. Aside from the controversial stuff, there was a lot of stuff in the movie that bothers me about movies in general today. Sure, there were a few admirable performances (Kidman was great, and Daniel Craig was good as well, but he had far less screen time than advertised), but most of the actors were just a little over the top. I don't mind it so much from Dakota Blue Richards, who plays the young heroine Lyra, but from everyone else I just found far too much drama, and all that did was make the movie a little hokey for me after a short while. Hokey is not always a bad thing, of course, but when you consider some of the serious matter of the film (not to mention a particularly violent scene) it just comes across as inappropriate.
... And then there's the religious stuff. Like I said, I have not read the books. I've read a few articles on Wikipedia but even they don't necessarily show how anti-Christian the books themselves are. The movie itself did not really portray anything anti-Christian in itself. The Catholic Church, which is the villainous organisation of the books, is called an alternate title in the film: "The Magisterium." God is simply called "The Authority," and in the film there is no mention of the Authority being a God-like figure at all. For all we know as viewers, he could be a living man hiding in the shadows like the Emperor from Star Wars. There are no references to church, prayer, worship, or anything religious. When Mrs. Coulter (who, needless to say, works for the Magisterium) explains what it does, she simply says, "It tells people what's best for them." It's sad that that is all some people view religions as, but it is a valid point to criticise the Church for being legalistic. I'm all about that.
I guess I would be careful about taking an impressionable child to see the film, not because there is anything too anti-
Christian in the movie itself, but because by all accounts (including Pullman's himself) the books are an atheistic answer to C.S. Lewis' The Chronicles of Narnia. As someone who is somewhat mature in my faith (I hope) I think I could read them to understand Pullman's views and not be tempted into believing his message. However, if I was younger, it could be different. I almost turned atheist after reading Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged, and though I still think it's a great book, I don't like how it made me doubt my faith. Then again, a faith that has gone untested could be weak at times. I just don't think it's okay for the entertainment industry to actively try to test people's faith. Let them do it on their own. It usually works out better that way. :)
Oh, and just to make people jealous...
It's December 10. Christmas is 15 days away. And today, Hitch, myself, and my roommates all went to the beach. It was sunny, gorgeous, and a lovely mid-70 degree temperature outside. I love North Carolina... and maybe even Global Warming?
Sometimes, when I worry about loneliness, my homosexuality, and my subsequent self-induced celibacy, I wonder why God has allowed me to suffer so. A reading through the Book of Job over the past few days got rid of that thinking. God is God. He doesn't owe me anything, and I am foolish for being resentful of the situations He has put me in. They are, after all, what makes me the person I am today. And I like that guy. I really do.
I am healthy, I am (more or less) full of hope. In my own respects, I am a teacher and a writer, the two things I have always wanted to be. I have a great family, and a great boyfriend who understands me, and who I can share my faith with. If Job, who was reduced to almost nothing, can still cry out and praise God, what makes it so hard for me to do so sometimes?
I am trying my hardest to trust God more. This is a two-fold mission in a lot of ways. First, I want to trust God with the events of my own life. I want to trust that the situations I have been put in are ones that I can handle, and that He will help me through. My life is rocky a little right now, on several levels. On other levels it is fine. In either case, I have to trust that He will be there for me.
Secondly, I have to trust in my own salvation. It's hard, because Reformed theology (at least in my limited understand of it so far) leaves little room for total assurance. This is good in a way, because it means there is more humility among the Christians who adhere to it (and, hopefully, myself included). A lot of Christians can get it in their heads that their simple statements of faith save them, and that can lead to a lot of arrogance.
So, Calvinists know that the Holy Spirit must be in you and actively working in order to save you, right? The problem is that it's hard to know if that's happening. I stumble and I doubt, and I sometimes wonder if I'm only deluding myself into thinking that God has really saved me, even though I desire Him so badly. Everyone will glorify God in the end, and I rejoice in that. But I can't lie and say that there isn't one side of the schism that I'll want to be on when the end comes. I suppose I have to trust that God is just and beyond my level of thinking, and there are some wonderful friends around to support me in my faith. Disputed Mutability showed me this wonderful sermon by C.H. Spurgeon about the very subject of assurance in hard times. Trust is hard, but it's rewarding, and it comes with time. Patience has never been one of my strong points, but I'm working on it. Welcome to December, everybody!
Two posts ago, my San Diego Calvinist Townhall commenter/friend Jerubaal left me this very funny and thought-provoking comment, I suppose as advice on how fix my "problem."
Do guy stuff (like work out), hang out with guys, and think about girls.
Let's get the humor out of the way first: Jerubaal, buddy, working out? That's your best example of non-gay guy stuff? You live in San Diego, for crying out loud. Have you even been to a gym there? ;) Okay, that was just a bad example (that or you were being sarcastic) but the point still stands. A lot of people--perhaps even some within ex-gay ministries (having had relatively little experience with them, I wouldn't know)--hold an opinion that becoming more stereotypically masculine (or feminine) is a step on the way to heterosexuality, or at the very least, a proper life for a male (or female) Christian.
The rest of the post is not a reply to Jerubaal's comment (so you can breathe easy, buddy). The comment, though, did get my mind on gender stereotypes and what role such things have to play when it comes to homosexuality and Christianity. There are two ways I can look at this: personally and critically. Since this is a personal blog I'm tempted to simply relate my own experiences, but I do love critical analysis of any given subject (which is why I love Disputed Mutability's blog so much). So, I think I'll try doing both here.
Personally, I think I'm pretty masculine, or at least I'm as masculine as I think I need to be, and I don't think there is too much of me that I'd consider feminine (although I've been told that my strictly comedic impressions of an angry black woman are too spot-on ;). I mean, yes, some people have said that they weren't surprised when they found out I was gay. A few even admitted to having been suspicious, and apparently one said they had figured me out after a single handshake. :-/ But I've also gotten "I had no idea!" comments and I've been told by several straight guys that my certain brand of gayness is tolerable because I don't "throw it in their faces." Obviously, these guys don't know my entire story (I find it's too complicated to relate to anyone but my closest friends...aaand strangers on the Internet ;) But to put it bluntly, it's not like I walk around with a feather boa and a tiara and say things like "Girlfriend, you are HOT! Let's go to Jamba Juice, mmkay?"
As far as friends go, I would say that, yes, the majority of my best friends are female, but it's not because I dislike or don't get along with guys. In fact, in college, for the first time I'm meeting straight guys that I actually do get along with and enjoy being friends with. It's probably because I'm, well, in college. Being born and raised in small (and I mean small) town NC, most guys I knew were of the more...shall I say redneck type? I'm just not the hunting/fishing/football-playing sort, though I don't mind people who hunt or fish and I absolutely loved going to my high-school football games. What can I say? My parents are more artistic and intellectual than most, and so am I. I like art and books and theatre (and yes, I spell it that way). Not many guys around home did, so while I didn't not get along with them I wasn't exactly buddy-buddy with them either. My only guy friends were my girlfriends' boyfriends. That's changed in college, though. I'm meeting an entire group of guys that I actually enjoy hanging out with. Granted, they aren't your usual frat-party, prankster, macho-macho men, but since I'm not either, it works out.
I suppose what I'm trying to say is that I have a slight aversion to picking friends just because I think that their friendship is something that would be beneficial for me. If I had to pretend to be into sports--other than hockey, which I am into (Go 'Canes!)--or hunting or whatever qualifies as "guy stuff" I wouldn't be happy and, frankly, I'd look and feel stupid. I pick my friends based on qualities that determine whether or not I get along with them and want to be with them (and, hopefully, they've done the same for me and aren't just putting up with me ;)
Now that I've explained my own personal experiences, let me think critically about this. How do gender/sexuality stereotypes fit into a Christian view of homosexuality? We all know what the stereotypes of gay men are--effeminate, crass, into theatre, fashion, design, and the like. And those stereotypes aren't without merit--I've already admitted to being guilty of some of them, but I don't mind being guilty of them, because I don't think they matter when it comes to my walk of faith and my life as a celibate same-sex attracted person. And of course it should be stated that gays--like any group--are much more diverse than the stereotype would claim. Remember Tom? He's pretty much earned the respect of all the guys in the dorm after completely--forgive me, there's no other word for it--pwning them at HALO. And most of them probably never suspected he was gay in the first place (I sure didn't).
However, I do think that stereotypes would matter if they were not merely aspects of my personality but habits that I had picked up after hanging out in a more predominately gay social circle for a number of years--if such a thing actually happens. To sum it up: if the reason I didn't hang out with guys or do "guy stuff" was because it was guy stuff and I felt uncomfortable about the masculinity of it all, then yes, there would be a problem. Maybe there are some struggling people who have that as a stumbling block and need to get over it, but I don't think I'm one of them. Rather, I consider this more of a matter of likes and dislikes, and since those likes and dislikes aren't inherently sinful, I'm fine with them. Does that make sense to anyone? I'll admit that I'm running on very little sleep and a lot of caffeine right now.
There's more to be said here, and I'll probably knock it out in the comments. For example, does masculinity/femininity in a Side B or ex-gay person matter when it comes to ministry (would people--Christians especially--trust someone who was "obviously" gay or would they be suspicious?) Does it matter in terms of the possibility of marriage? And would others consider a lessening of these stereotypical mannerisms/habits as an aspect of one's change or healing from a non-Christian homosexual lifestyle? Have at it, guys :)
You know what? I think too darn much. That seems to have been the main theme of my life these past few days. I've been questioning things--everything from politics to my own personal relationships. I present myself with different points of view--all of which seem to have merit--and knowing that a decision has to be made between the contradictory stances, I become complacent and throw my hands in the air. "I give up!" is the verbal equivalent. I just can't make a decision about what my convictions are sometimes. And so I take non-movement as the best course of action, even when I know it isn't.
Case in point: Today I somehow got myself into an argument (with myself) about Calvinism vs. Wesleyan/Arminian theology. I think someone mentioned the opposing schools of thought in a comment thread somewhere, and so I decided to look them up myself (ain't Google great?). The first thing I came across was an objective, point-by-point comparison of the two. After looking at that, I pretty much figured I was a Wesleyan (no surprise there, really--I was raised Methodist after all).
But I always love hearing opposing sides, so I found a comparison from a Calvinist perspective. That made me pretty confused. For one, it was pretty persuasive. It really does seem like the Bible presents more evidence for a Calvinist theology than an Arminian one. Basically, there are just a lot of verses where God "hardened their hearts" or "gave them over to sin." Those are the verses that I've always had trouble with, and it's a shame that they seem to outnumber the ones that advocate a freedom of will and conscience.
But, despite the persuasiveness of the comparison, I really just don't like Calvinism. It seems totally unfair and downright illogical to think that God put effort into creating human beings and then predestined them to Hell. I mean, "What the...?" God knew us while we were still in the womb, if I'm not mistaken. Saying that He knows whether or not we'll get saved is one thing, but saying that He elects those of us who will go to Heaven is quite another. Plus, there's really no security in Calvinism, is there? I mean, what if you think you believe, but at the end of your life you find that God really didn't elect you, and you were just fooling yourself?
Plus, Calvinism just doesn't sit well for those of us of the homosexual persuasion. It's hard to believe that one of God's elect would have to deal with being gay. And a lot of hyper-Calvinists (like the psychotic Fred Phelps--who doesn't deserve to have any term associated with Christianity attached to his name) use this as an argument as a way to say that gay people are gay because "God gave them over to shameful lusts." And hey, that's in Romans 1, so it has merit. But it just doesn't sound like something a loving God would do.
So, I'm not exactly at a crisis of faith right now, but I am trying to figure out exactly Who God is. There are places in the Bible that don't make Him out to be so pleasant, and I'm trying to reconcile those places with the image of the all-loving, all-knowing, great God that I've known since childhood. It's dangerous territory. A lot of people don't make it out of these questions with their faith intact, but I feel that if I want to have a real, solid faith, then it needs to be challenged. Otherwise, is it not built upon sand?
(Oh, and I found a comparison of Calvinist and Wesleyan theology from a Wesleyan perspective, but I'm too tired to read through all of it just yet. That's the thing I've come to notice about myself. Any rational, persuasive argument usually has the ability to get me second-guessing myself. I don't want to be a flip-flopper, but I need to find my convictions. Pray for me, guys. Things are still going well here regardless).
I sometimes wonder about how to go about sharing my faith. I mean, there are a lot of non-Christians here (as there are anywhere), but they are all nice, warm-hearted, and kind people that I genuinely care about. I want to share my faith with them (I suppose you could say I want to "witness," although I have an unexplained dislike for that word), but I want to be effective with it. Often times I think evangelicals can be too forceful with their faith, and therefore might ostracize, rather than attract, non-Christians to the church.
But how does one go about attracting people to the church? A few posts ago, in "Bad Few Days," I talked about how I sometimes thought it was unfair that God allowed me to be gay, because that has made it harder for me to be a good Christian and have a normal, happy life. I still haven't gotten over those feelings, but I have thought about how unfair life is for other people. I mean, at least I was raised in a stable, loving, Christian home. I had absolutely wonderful parents and siblings, and I was taught about the importance of Christ from a very early age. In short, I feel like I've been given Grade-A tools, yet my peers--many of whom weren't raised in Christian homes--were given sticks and stones, and yet we're supposed to build the same house.
Okay, that's a bad analogy, but it's still how I feel. How does one talk about God to someone who doesn't have the same background? This might sound bad, but the only reason I'm a Christian is because I was raised in a Christian home. Had I not been, why would I be attracted to the church? I, like many other gay men, would probably see Christians as a bunch of hate-filled hypocrites. Let's face it, our PR isn't that good sometimes, people.
There are many different levels of non-Christians at the school, of course. One, there are people who were born and raised into other faiths. They probably know as much about Christianity as I know about their faiths (and I don't know much), so how are Christians supposed to witness to them? If a Hindu or a Muslim started witnessing to me, I wouldn't budge an inch from my faith. Why would it be any different if I witnessed to a Hindu or Muslim?
Then there are atheists and agnostics. They at least acknowledge that they have thought about philosophy and the spiritual realm, but have decided that either A: There's nothing out there, or B: That whatever is out there, it doesn't need to be known or named. Based solely on observing the ones I've met, I think the main reason they don't like organized religion is that they feel they'd be having to give up their individuality if they worshipped a Creator. I can relate, but I wish I knew how I could express that relation.
Then there are those that are merely apathetic, who don't think about religion at all, though they may have been raised in a church of some sort.
Okay, I'm rambling. I guess what this is a post on is...shall I say "spiritual fairness?" It just doesn't seem fair to me, that I have been given all these "tools"--a Christian home, a church family, an endless parade of Sunday school teachers, Christian peers, etc.--which in turn helped me explore my own faith deeper and reach a personal relationship with Christ. And yet people who haven't been given the same tools--people who weren't raised in a Christian home or even a Christian country--are going to be judged on the same criteria as me. It doesn't seem right that an old Buddhist lady on a mountain in Tibet is not going to find salvation, when it wasn't her fault that she was never exposed to it.
I guess I could say that I'm toying around with a little Universalism (not Unitarian Universalism, mind you). I suppose it's the same paradox that C.S. Lewis once wrote about--to a certain effect, how do you reconcile having a standard of judgment, in which some people will go to Hell and others will go to Heaven, while at the same time realizing that the number of people throughout history who have heard the Gospel is a rather small number comparatively, and many of these people simply do not seem deserving of eternal separation from all that is good.
This kind of remids me of a Sarah McLachlan song called "World's On Fire" (posted below). You see all the suffering in the world--all the situations that need solving and all the people that need saving--and you know you can't do it on your own. But that's human nature. We want to be able to fix everything. But we can only do so much, and we have a hard time just doing that. I guess all I can do is simply let my opinions be known whenever I can. Hopefully I'll go about it tactfully. It's funny, who would've thought that the floor's candid gay guy and the floor's evangelical Christian would be the same guy?
