dead things

Not a sermon post. Not any sort of organized, bulleted variations on a theme. Just some thoughts at 8:15 in the ay-ehm and a reflection on my first month of living in community.

So I was cleaning the girls' side back porch the other day, and it presented me with an interesting task - separating the "good dirt", which I would transport to the front garden, from the "bad dirt" which was mostly rocks and twigs that I would dispose of elsewhere. I noticed that the soil didn't start getting nice and dark and fertile-smelling until it was full of disgusting things. Decaying insect carcasses, moldy and withered leaves, rotted pecan shells. That was the dirt I wanted. That was the soil with the potential to nourish our garden.

I know that this is the stuff of third grade science projects and no real revelation to anyone, but I felt very akin to those broken, diffused dead things in the ground at the time and it was comforting to think that I may at least be useful for something. That, in fact, I have to be dead in order to be of ANY use to the Gardener. (Romans 6:8) Death--to ourselves, our pride, our entitlement--unlocks the nutrients. The potential. Gives us a chance to nourish each other, and to be a part of the beauty of the Garden.

But first...there's still death. Everyone told me that living in community "is hard," "will break you," "will drive you crazy," etc. and it's all true and it's already happening and there's no way to circumvent it no matter how much you knew about it in advance. We've already had topics like "Nikki's tears" and "Brent's apology" on our house meeting agenda, and I'm learning just how much and in what particularly uncomfortable positions this lifestyle is going to stretch me. It's hard for me to tell people that I have a problem with them. It's hard for me to share work instead of trying to do it all myself. It's hard for me to have so little privacy and solitude, and to give up the reins on my personal schedule. It's hard to work 54 hours a week and come home to a house that needs so much more work. Work, work, work....it's hard to remember to play from time to time.

But there are good things, and on all but the worst days they outweigh the bad. I live with a little alien creature called a One-Year-Old and his SuperMom. I miss not being able to have breakable things anywhere below my hip, but I love his tiny little vice grip and his goofy laugh in the middle of morning prayer, so it's all good. He has also re-introduced me to Goldfish crackers, which are delicious and I can't understand how I let them slip out of my life.

The House takes shape before my eyes, and I still can't believe that I'm here. That God did it. That so many people--even those that initially hated the idea--have poured out love and support for us in the short time that we've been in the neighborhood. All frustrations and pitfalls aside, I am most certainly living the dream. My dream, at least.

I miss Marc very much while he's away in Nashville this weekend, and I've been trying to fix up the house as much as possible for when he comes back, because I know how lovely it is to leave for a bit and come home to a place that's markedly nicer/cleaner/more pretty-fied than you left it. He at least has a nice cleared-out back patio on which to re-weld his tall bike that sustained massive injuries during a joust at the Rat Patrol Hootenanny. It's very nice to live next door to my boyfriend, and rather than strain us, I think living in community has actually improved our relationship. Or maybe not improved so much as given us new opportunities to love each other, serve each other, and grow closer. Either way, it's been good. I've found a good man indeed. Perhaps the one good thing about him being away is that apparently his absence compels me to produce whimsical steampunk Sharpie art, like so:

So yeah, that's what life has been like lately. I've got far more than I need and good company to share it with. Life from death, and life more abundant. =)

Nik

nature vs. nurture

I think that if I could, I'd make it a requirement that all government officials and religious clergy work a minimum of one year as a caretaker. It would be a refining fire for anyone who claims to want to lead by serving. They would come out of it either callous beyond all reckoning, or humbled and sufficiently prepared for their roles as representatives and intercessors. Cleaning up human waste on a regular basis will, in time, show you what sort of person you are.

That thought occurred to me tonight as I was trying to deal with two sick clients, a water leak from the washing machine, and a backed-up toilet full of poop all at the same time. I started to see some of the uglier parts of me rise to the surface--my impatience with my client's refusal to listen to my instructions, my selfishness in caring more about my own inconvenience in having to deal with the situation instead of my clients' wellness, the generally crappy way I tend to deal with crises if I feel overwhelmed. I didn't like the girl with the pissed off expression that I was seeing in the bathroom mirror.

Suddenly, while I was pacing around the wet floor trying to figure out what to do next, I got zapped with conviction about the way I was acting. "You're frustrated right now," I heard God say, "because you feel like what you're doing is trivial. Do you not realize how important your job is? Have you forgotten that these are people you're taking care of, and that every day you have to choose whether you're going to nurture them and encourage them like they deserve or just treat them like an obligation?"

Supposedly I have a gift for nurturing, and every time I think about what that should look like, I think of my mother. She is, without a doubt, the most comforting and nurturing person I've ever known. I was positively spoiled with love from her when I was growing up, and I never felt more loved than when I was sick. When I had the flu as a child, my mom pulled out all the stops of her hospitality. She fed me chicken noodle soup, she changed out my videos on the VCR while I lay in bed, she drew me hot bubble baths and sprinkled scented baby powder on my bedsheets while I dried off. She had, at one point or another, cleaned up every single one of my bodily fluids off the bathroom floor and/or clothing, and she never once complained or made me feel bad for inconveniencing her.

I know that a mother's bond with her children comes with a special serving of grace, but should it really be all that different between any caretaker and the person they're serving? Those who follow Christ are called to love in absurd and impossible ways--why shouldn't I try to love each one of my clients like my mother loved me, especially when so many of them haven't known the care of a parent for years, if at all?

Whether it's undergoing surgery, lying bedridden with the flu, or simply aging, we all have to be cared for at some time in our lives. What sort of heart do you want the person who will be there during your most vulnerable state to have? I think we would do well to think on that, and then make the decision to have that sort of heart ourselves, every day, in all our relationships.

We may find we complain a little less.

We may find we're not as easily offended.

We may find we have more patience than we thought.

We may find we're just a little bit closer to the character of Jesus, and that it's a whole lot less glamorous than we've made it out to be.

let's err on the side of love, shall we?

There is something that I've been wanting to speak out about for years now, and recently attending a seminar at Cornerstone called "Love is an Orientation" has helped me feel empowered to articulate the attitude that I have about Christianity and homosexuality. I feel that the principles that I'm going to talk about are are Biblical, loving, honest, and long overdue to be lived out by those who claim to follow Christ. As someone who has had ample life experience in both the Christian church and the gay community, and as someone who has felt the temptation of same-sex attraction myself, I want to address and rebuke the Church for its overall treatment of this particular enclave of our Father's beloved creation.

Christians, let me start with this: I know you are aware of the gay community's aversion to you. I know you know that they hold much against you. Now let me tell you what they DON'T hold against you. The gay community does not hold against you your right to the belief that homosexuality is a sin according to the Scriptural principles of your faith, according to your God. They do not hold against you your right not to approve of a homosexual lifestyle according to those beliefs. But the keyword there is your. Your God. Your faith. Your beliefs. The gay community is perfectly fine with agreeing to disagree. The problem comes in when you demand that a gay person operate by the moral code of a God they don't believe in or don't care about. You cannot in sound logic expect them to do that any more than a Muslim could expect you to eat only halal meat because it is prescribed in the Quran.

And why, do you think, would the gay community not believe in or not care about our Christian God? How much of it has to do with the actual principles that are found in a close, well-informed reading of the Bible, and how much of it has to do with the vastly prejudiced and very often despicable behavior of so-called Christians towards themselves and their loved ones? If we say that the Bible designates homosexuality as a sin, let's go ahead and take a look and just a few of the ways in which we deal with other sins according to Scripture and see if they line up with how we treat homosexuality:

1. Temptation vs. Action - If a brother confides in us that he had the urge to shoplift while he was waiting in line at the grocery store but resisted it and paid for all his items instead, what do we do? We pat him on the back and thank God that he defeated his temptation. If a sister confides in us that she is struggling with homosexual desires but has not acted on them, what do we do? How do we view her? As someone who has triumphed over temptation, or as someone who is already tainted, sinful, and an outsider merely from the thoughts that are in her head?

Hebrews tells us that we do not have a God who is unable to identify with us, but "one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin." There is a clear separation here between the temptation of sin and the sin itself. If the Scripture says that Jesus was tempted "in every way," would that not also include lust? Instead of sinking immediately into shame and defeatism when temptation of any kind strikes, we are instructed to "approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need."

I wonder how many gay folks have felt that they have found mercy and grace to help in their time of need at the doors of the Church.

2. Behavior over Relationship: When we talk to a straight non-Christian about Jesus, what is the biggest point we hope to emphasize? This could probably be a whole entry in and of itself, but for the time being let's assume that we all have a correct understand of the Gospel and would want the person to understand that God loves them and wants so desperate to commune with them that He sent his own Son, and extension of his own Being, to sacrifice himself in order to bridge the gap between God's heart and theirs. In comparison, what is the biggest point we always end up emphasizing when we talk to a gay non-Christian? Homosexuality is a sin and you're going to hell if you keep it up. Do we even understand how insulting that is? Do we even get it? The straight Gospel message says "You matter. You are of value, so much so that the Creator of the universe is desperately in love with you." The gay Gospel message says "Your entire personhood is defined by this one single characteristic, and God despises it. And since you and your homosexuality are inseparable, God despises you."

So what exactly does God think about these two alternate Gospels? "You, therefore, have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge the other, you are condemning yourself, because you who pass judgment do the same things. Now we know that God's judgment against those who do such things is based on truth. So when you, a mere man, pass judgment on them and yet do the same things, do you think you will escape God's judgment? Or do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, tolerance and patience, not realizing that God's kindness leads you toward repentance?" - Romans 2:1-5

When a gay person walks away from a conversation with you, do they feel God's kindness or your judgment?

3. Get It Right Or Get The F&%$ Out: So you were perfect by the time you gave your life to Christ, right? You were a spotless lamb before the Lord, already cleansed of every sin, bad habit, and incorrect worldview and really just looking for some heavenly companionship rather than any sort of salvation. Your perspective of God and the world has never wavered because you've never spiritually matured or grown in any way (already being perfect and all).

Wait...that's not the case? You're telling me you came to Jesus full of sin, hurt, and brokenness, and the promise of healing the gaping wound in your heart is what drew you to Him in the first place? And you mean to tell me that healing hasn't happened overnight? That in fact, it's still in the process of happening, and that there are sins that you deal with on a regular basis, over and over again, even when you think you've finally gotten free of them?

You're telling me that your brothers and sisters in Christ act like just that--brothers and sisters? That they love you unconditionally just as your heavenly Father loves you, and they deal patiently and mercifully with your every weakness, fault, and bout of utter stupidity because they too are just as weak and stupid? Oh really. That's very interesting. Then why exactly are we so eager to kick a gay man out of our church the moment he shows up with his boyfriend when we have no problem whatsoever bearing with the Sunday School teacher's gossip problem, the megachurch preacher's lust for riches, or our own [straight] secret porn addiction?

Again, God's command to us is clear through humble admission of Paul: "Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me...All of us who are mature should take such a view of things. And if on some point you think differently, that too God will make clear to you."

__________________________________

I have, at least to some extent, seen the view from both sides of this fence, and I firmly believe that there is no group of people in the world today to whom the message of Jesus Christ has been more grossly perverted than the gay community, and that is a tragedy that falls squarely on the shoulders of us, the messengers.

Why oh why do we feel that the proper and necessary way to show a gay person that we disapprove of homosexuality is to withhold love from them? Is that how Jesus showed his disapproval of our sin to us? Or did he lay down His very life for us to demonstrate His love?

Woe to us. We ought to be ashamed.

I know many Christians would argue that they do not talk to/associate with/welcome/hang out with gay people for fear that their actions might possibly get misinterpreted as approval of homosexuality. To that, I say: Take that zeal for righteousness and clean your own house with it first. Keep your integrity, leave the judging to God Almighty, and do the one simple thing your Lord and Savior commands you time and time again to do: LOVE.

people like you when you like yourself...and if they don't, who cares?

Dread update photo--my babies at three weeks, just before Brent, Marc, Heather, and I set off on our trek to CORNERSTONE. Epic times are at hand. I just know it. 

My first DIY sewing project: modifying one of my old Whole Foods t-shirts by sewing this huge screenprinted patch on the back that Marc's friends in Nashville made and cutting-and-tying the sides so that it fits tighter. I also cut off the sleeves and neck to make it a tank top. That shirt, plus my cut-off jean shorts, is my holy-crap-New-Orleans-is-hot-in-June ensemble.

Brent playing his didjeridoo (that's what she said??) in my living room this afternoon. It's an oddly calming sound after a while, kind of like the white noise of a box fan lulling you to sleep. 

It's funny how quickly a person can change, and for such a multitude of reasons. I'm not oblivious to the transformation I've gone through in the past couple of months. Much of it has been external: I've dreaded my hair, started dressing differently, probably giving off a downright different aura. The reasons are intensely personal and deal with the heart of my personality and my relationship with the Father. The best way I can describe it is to say that, for the first time, I feel like I am myself, and I am living my life. C.S. Lewis says that, contrary to what most people think and fear, growing closer to God means blossoming more and more into the unique, multi-faceted, dynamic individual that you have been created to be. Whoever that is. Whatever that looks like. 

My friend Katie recently asked me if I'd be interested in going to Europe with her, and it got me thinking about two summers ago when I went abroad for the first time. My cousin Amy and I recounted over and over again the incredible feeling we had when we came out of Victoria Station and stepped onto the streets of London with all of our suitcases and a little printed map with directions to our hostel and not a single agenda until our flight to Spain two days later. It was a feeling of total empowerment, like someone just tapped us on the shoulder and gestured to the bustling urban cityscape surrounding us, saying "Hey, guess what? You did this. You want to come here and you made it happen, and you can do it again if you want. You are limitless."

I feel a little like that about my life right now. Those limits...Good Lord...does anyone on earth put more limits on us than ourselves? I subdued and walled off the parts of me that I felt were too radical, or too offensive, or too weird, or too unconventional because I was seeking the approval of the people around me. Now, I've gotten to a point where I'd much rather have people's respect for following my convictions and being true to God and myself than have their approval of my every lifestyle choice. It's a much better plan, I think.

See you all after C-Stone! Pray for a safe journey!

- Nik

just a little something to brighten your day.

the best radio show you've never heard of.

NPR, you can keep This American Life. I'll take Little Steven and his Underground Garage for the win. Being a sucker for both the nostalgic and the kitschy, you can imagine how thoroughly delighted I was to stumble across this crazy New York Italian voice going on about the impact of the beat poets on the post-WWII American consciousness after playing The Ronnettes, Bob Dylan, The Ramones, and Jack White all in the same set. Listening to the Underground Garage is like taking a history class in an opium den while being serenaded by John Lennon and Bo Diddley. Each week has a theme that is reflected in both the playlist and the talk segments, with some of the more recent gems being "Pirate Radio", the 42nd anniversary of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club, "The Ramones Forever and Ever and Ever", the invention of the 45 vinyl record, and the evolution of film noir. You feel smarter by the end of the show, but you also have about five new bands you want to look up on Google.

If Little Steven looks familiar, it's because, along with being a songwriter, arranger, and producer, he was also a member of Bruce Springsteen's E-Street Band as well as the character Silvio Dante on The Sopranos. The show would absolutely cease to function without him, as he is a humanoid encyclopedia of knowledge on 20th century music, society, and culture, and is able to relay that information in a way that's fresh and entertaining. I wanted to post this blog because, after almost 3 years of listening to the show, it still shocks me how few other people that I mention if to have heard of it. I promise you, friends--you are missing out! If you live in New Orleans, you can catch The Underground Garage every Sunday night on 95.7 (I think it runs from 7-10PM) OR, if you're absent-minded like me, you can listen to all the archived shows any time you want at wwww.littlestevensundergroundgarage.com.

well that came out of nowhere.

I literally think it's been something like 4 years since I've written a poem. It's been that kind of day. Unexpected, and kind of lovely. 

Gomer's Song

(Hosea 1-2)

a wayward lover am i

that i would rather fuck these tragic johns

than make love to You.

they are dull razors, the men I chase

i scrape them across my skin

but they only bloody me

and the hair remains

i do it because it's what i deserve

and it's what i deserve because i do it

their water is brackish

their wool and their linen is mildewed

and threadbare in my hands

and i am parched

a prideful lover am i

that i would rather choke on their water

than sip honey from Your lips.

for your nectar is sweet

and your linen is royal

such things do not come cheaply, i know

a time will come when i must pay, i know