Engaging Culture

"So, they're scared that a polar bear is going to threaten their religion?"

The chorus of voices confirmed this assertion and I squirmed.  The conversation teetered on absurdity, begun with a simple discussion of a recent movie that had come out based on a book called The Golden Compass.  I don't remember exactly how we got there, but I'm quite sure Harry Potter was somehow in the mix and that the so called discussion seemed somehow hollow.  My greatest drive at that point was to prove that I wasn't an unthinking religious zombie that would prefer to burn books for their sins than to engage people within their culture.

Maybe it was because it was an early class, maybe I was a coward, but I failed to do either that day.  Worse than disengaging I attempted to gain approval by bashing other members of the body of Christ for their "overreaction" towards a children's book.  Sadly, I didn't pick up on the logical fallacies being used by our professor, sadly I did not prove to be always ready to give an answer for what I believe, sadly I caved to the people worship I've struggled with all my life, allowing emotionalism to effect my ability to speak with intelligence.

But recently, another book has come out that reminds me of this discussion, that has sparked similar debate and I don't want to be silent.  It's dangerous waters, coming out against art that is easily seen as cancerous, offensive to the holy God of the universe and detrimental to the culture, but after my failure in college silence proves to be nothing more than cowardice.

Let me clarify, to a point I believe we all ought to engage in culture, to read literature and watch movies and view art even if it makes us uncomfortable or challenges our belief system or doesn't seem "Christian" (emphasis on the quotes), but there are certain things I believe we should boycott with strong conviction...not with a self-righteous "I would never read something so depraved and how dare you" sort of attitude, but with a deep sense of humility and a strong conviction of our own propensity towards temptation.

I read Harry Potter (some of you may gasp...not sure there are too many out there anymore).





I read Twilight (my stomach curdles and the English major in me is shaking her head while face-palming).











I even read Hunger Games (the first time I've ever said the movie version is better than the books...now the English major is really flipping out).









But I will absolutely not read Fifty Shades of Grey.

This isn't because of the bad writing (like Twilight), it isn't because I have no interest in it (like Hunger Games initially), and it sin't because it has the appearance of evil (like Harry Potter...please take this with a grain of salt, dear readers), but it's because I know myself.  Given simple public TV fodder I am easily tempted by sin and what a fool I would be to add kindling to the fire.  I haven't read it, so I can't speak from experience as to what the content is, but I've heard enough to know that I should never touch it with a ten foot pole, and I would encourage the rest of the body of Christ to do the same.

When perversion is normalized, romanticized, everyone is put in danger.

I'm not thrusting a sign into the air demanding this novel (trilogy?) to be burned, I'm not condemning others for reading it as if I'm some angel of light untouched by the aforementioned perversion, I'm simply coming from my own weakness and sin, knowing that God has called me to be holy as He is holy (Lev. 11:44) and that given the opportunity I will absolutely edge towards sin rather than flee from it.

On the flip side, we do need to engage culture when we are able.  Though we are to be set apart we are also to be in the world (1 Corinthians 9:19-23), to speak intelligently and with love to those who challenge us, but again we should never do that which will tempt us to sin.

So I have a two-fold urge to my fellow believers; don't set yourself up to be tempted, but learn how to engage the culture with wisdom and love and grace.  Thank God for His mercy in using weak and broken objects such as us!

Denominations: Mean Girls Style

"Get in the car loser, we're going to worship."

Look around the country (maybe the world, but we'll stick with the U.S. as I know it better).  First you have your…

Jocks and cheerleaders, otherwise known as the Baptists.  

The Thespians, also called Pentecostals.

The Popular Crowd or, Non-Denominationals.

and finally… the geeks/nerds, called Presbyterians.

But make no mistake, all of these belong to the Debate Club, ready with well prepared (or not so well prepared) arguments to prove the other wrong.

Each is marked by a specific set of indicators; the Baptists by their squeaky clean reputations, the Penecostals by their theatrics, the Non-Denoms by their coffee shop worship and cool, alternative Church names (i.e. "Current Church"), and Presbyterians by their passion for the truth (read: minute details regarding scripture) and each can easily be lumped into one generalized category.  More often than not, the different cliques tend to edge away from one another depending on their position on the church social radar, and each generalizes about the other.  

And yet…

Like the stereotypes we see portrayed amongst high school students, these differing denominations (or non-denominations) have far more in common than they might care to admit.  In fact, these often competing entities are actually apart of the same body, the body for which God rent Himself.  Moreover, what they (and by they I mean "we", myself included) fail to realize is that there is more in common amongst those who are loved by the LORD than there is between us and the rest of the world.

I just have a lot of feelings…  

I don't want to downplay our differences, or ignore the fact that there are very serious issues we need to graciously discuss, but I think we need to remember the undeniable fact that we are not our own, that we were bought at a high price (1 Corinthians 6:20), and that God has called us to be part of each other (1 Corinthians 15).  It's ok to laugh at ourselves and maybe even a little at each other, but ultimately we are part of Christ's body, and as such we are called to love one another.  So I'm praying for the Church, that maybe during conflict we remember that Christ didn't just die for us individually, but for the whole body, and that maybe we'd show each other a little more grace…

…but none for Gretchen Wieners.  Goodbye! 

Training for Super Motherhood...

My job is preparing me for marriage and family.  

What?  Don't believe me?  

Meet my child the copy machine.  When it has a problem, here I come to save the day!  When it needs to be fed it beeps (cries) until I add paper.  It needs regular naps during the day.  And let me tell you, it does not wake up happy.

My second child is the phone.  It's a bit more like a toddler; wining until it gets my attention, constantly at my side like a little one clinging to my pant leg, making it very difficult to go to the bathroom.  Sometimes when I give it what it wants I'm rewarded with a pleasant response, a kind voice, an easily answered request, but others, well, I get to deal with an all out fit that makes me want to go cry in a corner.

Then there are the salesmen.  In a way they are like a spouse: big ideas, grand plans, and in desperate need of the tiny details to be taken care of.  The little things are my job; travel plans, stamping envelopes, printing, making copies, getting coffee, water, making reservations…they couldn't do their job if I wasn't doing mine, or at least it would be very hard.  

A smile is part of the job, cleaning up after others is what I do, and often, amidst the stress, I tell myself it's just practice for marriage and kids.  But sometimes that makes me forget to focus on the job at hand, to be thankful for what I have right now and not what I'm hoping for in the future.  Don't get me wrong, hope is wonderful, hope gets me through the day, the problem comes when I focus only on the future and not on doing my best and finding joy in the present.  

It can be hard to find sometimes, honestly, the search can feel a bit like an impossible Where's Waldo mission, but there is joy even in the stress and frustration.  Because in reality, my current circumstances aren't some purgatory-hunger games-torture-training session meant to prepare me to be a glorious super mom/wife, it's part of my sanctification process…which, sometimes can be sort of like a purgatory-hunger games-torture training session.  

More than that, there is something to look forward to, something way better and way more believable than me becoming Supermom (boots included, but no capes…if you've seen the Incredibles, you'll understand), because my sanctification process is preparing me for eternity.  

"Thus you are to be holy to Me, for I the Lord am holy; and I have set you apart from the peoples to be Mine." Leviticus 20:26

The holy is in the hardship, and the reward at the end is relationship, unhindered, with the bridegroom Who poured himself  out for His bride.  

In The Image of God...

"Hello, this is Courtney with Empirica, and I was just calling to follow up on your pre-employment screens.  The clinic says you didn't show up."

"Well, see what happened was…"

Idiot.

It doesn't matter what the explanation follows, I've already made up my mind; this dude has wasted my precious time and added just one more headache to my busy, unpredictable schedule.  A simple phone call could have saved time, money, some of my valuable brain cells, and eased the ulcer I'm fairly certain is forming somewhere within my gastrointestinal section (Yeah, I passed biology by the grace of God and my professors).  I'm exhausted, stressed, overwhelmed, and now this individual who I don't have to physically face has become, in my eyes, the biggest moron ever to walk the earth.

Amidst this conversation, someone walks in the door (obviously a solicitor), the other line rings, two e-mails pop up, and my mortal enemy, tears, begin to threaten to reveal stress and irritation.  In an attempt to remain professional, I try to work up a smile for the visitor, the tremble out of my voice as I ask the caller to hold, and take a deep breath.

Stupid, stupid, stupid…I hate this, I hate this, I hate this…

At this point, everyone is dumb, including myself.  I suck at this job, I suck at life, I don't know why I'm here, I don't know God wants me in this dumb situation when He's made me good at other things and given me a passion for other work, why didn't He make me better at handling stress, and why, oh, why, did He allow some people to be so stupid!

Then His words come to me, not words I expect, but words that help none-the-less; "God created man in His own image…he knit them together in their mother's wombs…they are fearfully and wonderfully made…" (Genesis 1:27, Psalm 139:14).  

I'm humbled and calmed somewhat.  The guy on the phone, smart or not, the solicitor, intrusive or not, and I, useless or not, were made in the image of God, knit by His hands in the wombs of our mothers, valued by the Creator.  Each of us has a story and a soul that God has crafted in loving sovereignty, each of us has stressful days, and moments in which we kick ourselves for dumb moments.  We all, desperately need grace.  

This reminder doesn't completely pull back the tears, it doesn't make me love the situation in the short or long term, but it does help me relax, help me be a bit more gentle, reorganize my thoughts.  I'm so thankful God doesn't leave me in my own frustrations without reminding me that He's there, reminding me of what is true, honorable, right, pure, lovely, worthy of praise…(Phil 4:8).  Truth can change one's attitude, truth applied by the Spirit, Who's help I am so grateful for.  I'm quite sure I'll need more reminders along the way, and a lot of grace, but I'm thankful for the reminder I got today.

***

This experience reminded me of the song below by John Foreman.  It didn't relate as well as I would have liked, but it is about viewing others properly, maybe more graciously, so I still decided to share it.

Enjoy!

                     

The World Has Been Overcome

I'm never sure what to say on this day.  I remember along with everyone else, recall sitting in my sophomore speech class when the news came of the first plane hitting, then onto dance where we listened over the radio as a second followed it.  Friends around me called parents and teachers didn't stop them.  A girl I knew was in tears because her father was in the air and she hadn't heard from him.  Our youth group gathered to pray.  I sat glued to the TV almost every day after school watching as fire fighters and others tried to stop the ever spreading disaster, as people lost their lives, as my friends and acquaintances either found relief in making contact with someone in potential danger or lost a piece of themselves a midst the fire...

...and I waited to cry.

In a way I felt disconnected and the lack of tears made me feel guilty.  Yes I was horrified, yes I was sad, yes I prayed…but that pain, what I saw, it never really got inside of me.  After a few days the emotion finally set in, but somehow it still felt off.  I hadn't lost anybody; I didn't have a right to cry, to mourn.  Still I did, wondering if this was true sadness or something the musical montages and media coverage and speeches and prayers had conjured up.  Emotions are easy things to rile and ought often to be distrusted.

Even now I feel somewhat guilty in even talking about the event, like it wasn't something that actually happened to me, as if I’m perpetrating a fraud by trying to connect with it.  So I didn't know what to say today, but I didn't feel right leaving it alone and ignored.  Those that died should be remembered and mourned, those who lost should be comforted, bathed in prayer.  In many ways for me it is learning to mourn with those who mourn (Romans 12:15), learning to listen and hear and care more about loving those who are weeping  than about stirring up emotions in myself.  It’s hard to make sense of this day no matter what you lost twelve years ago and my prayers are with the mourners, with our leaders, with our nation, and I rest on the promise Christ left with us in John 16:33, “In this world you will have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world.”

I See Myself in Miley...

I see myself in Miley Cyrus.

Really, I swore I wasn’t going to get in on this discussion.  I was rather depressed simply by the sheer number of articles I actually read and the plethora of disturbing pictures I subjected myself to made even more abysmal by the fact that I still don’t really know what the heck is going on in Syria or what to think about it.  Often I condemn the comments sections of articles on the internet for their serious lack of attention to important things and failure to follow any semblance of rhetorical argument structure at all, yet I find myself sucked into the discussion and adding to the attention the ex-Disney Princess has garnered for herself.

                                                       

I write about it now because I see myself in her.      

                                                       

Though she’s claimed to have hardly thought about her actions on national TV, her movements, her costuming, her song (I’ve never heard it but read some of the words…) are all clear cries for attention.  And sadly, it worked.  Though most of it has been negative, everyone’s talking about Miley.  Some people are disgusted, some saddened, some defend her, (some like me wonder who the heck dressed her in a color so unflattering) but whatever the reaction she got exactly what she wanted; the masses talking.  Even negative attention is attention, and in the entertainment industry especially, it doesn’t really matter which sort you have, so long as the voices don’t go silent.   

But I do the same thing.  Granted it’s on a much smaller scale, I certainly don’t have the rapt attention of the masses, nobody is going to be tweeting about my antics (you doubt I have antics?  I submit that I do!), but like Miley Cyrus, I crave the attention of others.  A lack of comments on my blog frustrates me, someone else becoming the center of a conversation sprouts the small vines of jealousy, losing makes me feel like a failure.  I want your attention, I want your praise, and I’ll be loud, offensive, or ridiculous to get it.  

So yeah, I’m a little sad for the girl desperate to make a name for herself, but I’m also sad for me.  And if I’m honest with myself, I am a bigger failure than the girl on TV because I know what has been done for me.  Due to no merit on my part I have been cherished and loved by the God of the universe, made apart of His kingdom, His body, at the expense of His Son.  I know all this, I have been, and am always, loved, yet I long for the approval of man.  I need to remember what Miley needs to know; that I was made in God’s image (Gen 1:27), that though I rebelled against Him He died for me (Rom 5:8), condescends to have a relationship with me and allows me to call Him “Father” (Rom 8:15)…but how easily I forget, how easily I seek satisfaction in the laud of the world…         

I pray for a better memory, to believe what I know to be true, and I pray for a gracious heart towards my fellow attention whores and people pleasers.  Lord, may your kingdom come swiftly…      

"I Hate All Your Show"

21 “I hate, I reject your festivals,

Nor do I [o]delight in your solemn assemblies.

22 “Even though you offer up to Me burnt offerings and your grain offerings,

I will not accept them;

And I will not even look at the peace offerings of your fatlings.

23 “Take away from Me the noise of your songs;

I will not even listen to the sound of your harps.

24 “But let justice roll down like waters

And righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.

Amos 5:21-24

We make mistakes in our worship.  A few weeks ago our pianist started playing the hymn just after one of the leaders asked the congregation to stand for the call to worship.  He stopped her and we all laughed.  The band has lead everyone in the wrong words before.  Our  pastor will have to back track on a quote or analogy.  Sometimes I trip through the wrong chords.  The microphones will give awful feed back.  Sometimes the electricity goes out.  Sometimes the slides aren’t put up fast enough.  This often makes us uncomfortable, embarrassed, but most of the time it makes me smile. 

I see the heart of my small portion of the body of Christ.  I see how they reach out to the community, how they serve the poor, love on the special needs children in our congregation and at the camp we have during the summer, help a girl in the hospital move out of her apartment, lovingly call someone out about living in sin…I see them striving to be holy as God is holy, to preach and teach the Word to the best of their ability…I see them fail and own up to that failure…I see them love and have been loved by them.  

While we work to be the best we can at what we do when we worship together, the little mistakes, the feedback, the failings all remind us that ultimately this is not a show.  We are not gathered together for a concert, we are gathered together to worship the God of the Universe and He already knows we’re not perfect.  After all, that’s why He sent His Son. 

Blini and Caviar: Cooking with the Family

One of our favorite things to do as a family, is cook, and consequently, to eat.  A few years back we started reading a series called Nero Wolf, a series based around an agoraphobic, rotund detective with a love for good food and a fetish for orchids.  Quite often, the author mentions the meals his personal chief makes for the "oversized" detective, and on occasion, the Lott family enjoys attempting said recipes.  Thus far, we've attempted eggs bolognese with croute twice (way too thick the first time), and Blini and Caviar tonight.  As this dish was an appetizer, we also made tilapia with corn salsa.

Mixing green onions with blini mixture - blinis are Russian pancakes

  

Fry in olive oil

Serve with sour cream and caviar

Salmon caviar

 

      Verdict?  Yom!

Love: Defining Terms

“I wanted to talk to you about your participation in bible study…”

I sit up a little straighter, being your typical church rat my participation in bible study was usually marked by deep insights, knowing just how to say difficult Old Testament names, and knowing some obscure verse to support my point, she was probably about to thank me for my contributions, maybe even ask me to help lead.

“You have a lot of good insights…”

Mentally brushes off shoulders…pride stroked…

“…but you need to give the other girls opportunity to answer too…”

Being your typical people pleaser, my stomach churned.  My efforts to be helpful (and let’s face it, to be seen as wise and smart and “Christian-cool”) backfired; I was the know-it-all the leader had to talk to about speaking up far too much.  For about a nanosecond I wilted, wishing I could hide but finding no where to go trapped in the tiny, gray car.  I glared at my feet, wondering what the odds of time travel would be in the near future; maybe I could go back…

“I have the same problem, sometimes it’s hard not to speak up when I have something to say…”

The wilting stops and time travel doesn’t seem like such an enticing invention.  I’m not alone in my struggle, in my failure, she’s not confronting me to humiliate or shame me, she’s doing so out of love, out of leadership, she’s struggled too…In fact, were she not to confront me this would be a failure to love, a failure in leadership.

“I can help you…maybe even throw a shoe across the circle if that would help…”

We laugh and head on towards the church, me aware of something I need to work on, my youth leader ready and willing to help me grow to maturity.  Though I don’t remember the words of this conversation exactly, I remember the important points, and the lesson has stuck with me to this day.  Sometimes speaking the truth can be difficult, frowned upon, but if we do not speak the truth to those around us, we are nothing more than flattering tongues. 

“Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of Him who is the head, that is, Christ.”  Ephesians4:15

You Have Called Me From My Youth...

“I remember when [insert husband’s name here] asked me to marry him.  First,…”

Cue eye-roll (well, you know, after the legitimate “awe”).

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the Bitter Betty.  You can typically find her wearing black at Valentines (decrying the day as sheer commercialism and threatening to throw the flowers of her co-worker into the street), either avoiding the rom-com section all together or weeping over a bowl of ice cream while Mr. Darcy tells Elizabeth that she has enchanted him body and soul (darn you Jane Austin), or proclaiming loudly that there are too many “nice Christian boys” out there but not enough Godly leaders (or that they are all taken).

I live in this state of being, kicking myself when the bitter single rears her ugly head, frustrated when a blind date is just sort of stale, wishing I could just keep my mouth shut while rejoicing with my married/engaged/spoken for friends, and praying constantly for a better attitude, peace, and Aaron Tveit’s doppelganger who loves Jesus and has a masters in Godly leadership right off the bat (What?  It could totally happen.)

When disappointments like these come, when I fail over and over again to simply be joyful and give thanks in all circumstances and genuinely smile when a good friend tells her story, I wonder if God has left me alone…if He was ever with me to begin with.  After all, if His Spirit was with me wouldn’t I be able to rejoice more easily than I do?  Wouldn’t I /feel/ more holy day by day rather than being shown more and more just how utterly disgusting and sinful I am?  I question, not because I doubt God’s faithfulness (though in my sinful mind there is likely a bit of that) but because I know my own fickle, ridiculous heart.  Sometimes it scares me.  Badly… 

But the other night I was taking a walk after working out.  A disappointment had come earlier in the day (I didn’t make the fitness competition I made last year) and I was trying so hard to just shut up and listen.  The same frustrations ran through my mind…(I’m a failure, there’s something wrong with me, why the hell is God putting up with my crap…?) when a thought came.      

I’ve never been one to believe that God speaks to people in the present day in an audible voice, after all, we have the Spirit in our hearts and His full word at our fingertips, but I do believe He directs our thoughts.  That night He directed mine to a phrase that literally stopped me in my tracks…You called to me in my youth…

Through all the disappointments, all the fears, the foolish belief that the absence of friends or a husband/fiancé/boyfriend meant I was alone, He has walked with me for as long as I can remember.  As a child He called to me through my parents and Sunday school teachers and that red picture bible I wore out from reading at night (I’m telling you, I came out of the womb with insomnia), through the scripture tapes we listened to until the ribbon came loose and refused to function any more…He has held my hand so that I have never, ever in my entire life been alone.  It’s neither a feeling nor simple knowledge but something else entirely.  I know He is there, and that in spite of me, because I am His glorious ruin, He loves me.        

Could I really ask for a more beautiful love story?  For a more romantic “engagement”?  Scripture calls the Church the bride of Christ…the harlot made fit for a king…and I get to be part of that.  No, this doesn’t completely destroy the Bitter Single, she still comes around with her complaining and grumpiness, but it quiets her daily, soothing sinful insecurities, building up joy, and clothing her with a flawless part of the wedding dress.

“I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine…” Song of Solomon 6:3

The Office: What I Want to Say vs. What I Say

I'm often baffled by man kind.  While I don't consider myself to be the most intelligent human being, and have my fair share of "duh" moments, there are times when I wonder if God skimped on the brain cell section for a few of His creatures.  The following conversation is one I've had more times than I care to remember:                

 "Ma'am, I didn't get my paycheck this week."               

  "Well..did you move, maybe?"               

 "Yes ma'am."                

 "Did you let us know?"                

 "Well...no ma'am..."                

 ...                   

                

At this juncture, I am faced with a few options.  The right words must be carefully chosen accompanied by the right tone so that the individual is neither shamed nor left without the appropriate information.  What I want to say, what wriggles at the back of my mind held at bay only by sealed lips and a desire to remain professional is as follows:                

 "Oh I'm so sorry sir, my telepathy is on back order...I've complained I can't tell you how many times but still it hasn't come in."                

or                

"I apologize, sir, but God passed me up when He was handing out telepathy, didn't think I could handle it."                

However, being of sound mind and wanting to look good in everyone's eyes, my normal response is much kinder and more professional:                

"Well, sir, you can send your updated address to..."                

What's sad about my desired response is that, like I said before, I have my own "duh" moments, I say stupid things, the geek comes out of her closet and shames me...and I would never want someone to respond in sarcasm, to assume I'm stupid, to make fun of me.  It's a painfully humbling experience when we realize we've hurt someone in the same way we've been hurt before, when we realize that we're not the pure hero of a fairytale and everybody else the villain and his cronies, our humble worshiping peasants, or our knight in shining armor.  As funny as I think my responses are at the heart of them is cruelty, sin.  It doesn't even really matter that I only thought it, the sin is still there...                  

                

The older I get the more I am confronted with my own sin.  The more I realize it's depth.  When I was young I knew I had a need for a Savior, but in my eyes at the time He was small, His work an addition to my already good life, but as time rolls by I begin to see the enormity of the work on the Cross, the sacrifice of Christ.                   

                

Romans 7:25

Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, on the one hand I myself with my mind am serving the law of God, but on the other, with my flesh the law of sin.