FnC College Ministries

It has, of course, been a terribly long time since anything has appeared here.  My apologies, I’d been hoping against hope that the blog could be resuscitated.  Without going into too much detail, I’ve been…asked…to remove the link to this blog from our college website.  In response to this request, and after a great deal of consideration, I have decided to discontinue this blog.  It is likely that at some point in the future I will start an independent blog, but in the meantime, if you want to continue reading Matthew’s thoughts, feel free to check out silverpen pub.

And so, without further ado or a lengthy explanation about my reasons, I lay down this blog for the Long Sleep. 

My senior year of high school, particularly the latter half of it, was filled with meetings and obligations, ceremonies and hand-shaking. There’s a lot going on for most seniors, but between Speech & Debate, National Honours Society, running computer technical support at our school, having to both set up for and then attend these events, Baccalaureate, a slew of other things… I was busy, a new Christian to boot, and working hard to retain my priorities. I’d always put people first (and grades nearing last), so it was no surprise that I was late for a senior banquet honouring Speech & Debate students because I was talking on the phone with an old friend. When I did arrive (just a minute or so before the formal beginning), Danny Haase, the preeminent senior on the squad, asked where I’d been. "Talking to a girl," I replied, and he paused for a moment. "Yes, that about sums up your Speech career," he said.

It didn’t really hit me until a conversation with Ryan a few months ago that I was, apparently, something of a lady’s man. We were talking about life experience, both in travel and dating, and as I talked about my various relationships, I realized that I’d had quite a few. All these names and faces, all these memories, all the drama coupled with a lot of good times. Few of these relationships were serious, but there were a lot of them, and I was startled by the fact. I had always viewed myself as a lonely nerd, both misunderstood and misunderstanding.

Despite my confused perceptions about myself, some very valuable lessons came out of my high school relationshipal experiences. In a conversation with a good friend of mine several years ago, we were discussing what we found attractive in women. I’d had dozens of relationships and he’d been dating a girl for a year or two who was smart and very attractive, though somewhat clingy. When we both looked around a room, we might notice who the most attractive women were, but we didn’t care a whole lot. We’d note them, but we wouldn’t stare. "She’s just another pretty face," he’d say. "Just like all the others."

Of course, the implication (which you might not derive from these words, but I assure you was the case) was that, until you got to know someone, their physical beauty was relatively insignificant. We’d both dated, known, or had some level of relationship with a bevy of beautiful women, and it didn’t impress us anymore. Who cares about physical beauty if you can’t have a good conversation?

This morning when I signed onto Facebook, I saw some new photos of a Christian girl I know who is also a model. I’ve known some very awesome models before, but I have trouble respecting this girl after seeing the type of life she leads: jetting around the world, wearing very little clothing, dozens of guys hanging off her and, essentially, throwing herself at the highest bidder. In the same way that I have trouble understanding how a Christian can be a politician, I have trouble understanding Christian models. Even so, I know it’s possible… but when you embrace the lifestyle so completely (for a politician, by lying, cheating, and double-dealing; for a model, by wantonly throwing money around, giving in completely to vanity, and essentially selling your body to be idolized), I lose all respect for that person.

It makes me sad, but she’s become just another pretty face. 

I doubt anyone has us in an RSS feed, but just in case, I wanted the title to really summarize the entry. I’m doing a write-up on the technology we use for FnC, what our vision is for the ministry technologically, why and how we do what we do… and I need a bit of justification for this blog. Because I’m running it through blogsome rather than my own webserver, I have no way of tracking how many people visit or from where, so as far as we know, literally no one reads this blog. Or maybe thousands of silent students do, who knows.

What I’d ask is, if you do read this blog, even occasionally, even once, please leave me a comment on this entry. Thanks. 

I ask the earth: How does earth live with earth?
—We honor each other.

I ask water: How does water live with water?
—We fill each other up.

I ask the grass: How does grass live with grass?
—We weave into one another
    creating horizons.

I ask man: How does man live with man?

I ask man: How does man live with man?

I ask man: How does man live with man?

Each subsequent day since last Saturday when I fasted, the experience has meant more to me. I have continued to think about it and really dig into the subject, and I think I want to do it again. In fact, April and I are talking about making it a regular part of our lives. Starting this Sunday, we are going to fast weekly as a way to devote the day even more to God and really remind ourselves of both His blessings and of the matters about which we should be in continuous prayer.

There might be snags in there (like if we visit her grandmother on a Sunday and are planning on eating lunch there), but I think the discipline will be good for me. I spent so much time last Saturday thinking, "Why am I fasting?" and not enough focused on the myriad things I could/should have been focused on. There is always something that is deserving of prayer, always something I could be fasting about. One day a week is nothing. This Sunday, I’ll be praying specifically about Colombia, Israel/Palestine, and Somalia. 

Essentially, I’ve gone from, "I don’t understand random fasting that doesn’t have a purpose," to "Dude, seriously, there is always something we could be fasting about. If you don’t have a purpose, that’s because you are choosing to ignore the world around you." 

Due to the nature of this blog and all, I feel I should note that the below represents only my feelings, not those of the ministry or the larger Church. Fasting is just something I struggle with as an individual, and as such there is a fair amount of disagreement between my feelings on the subject and, say, Brian’s. Not like we fight or anything, we just disagree. April understands fasting better than I do–she just gets it–and I suspect it will be a subject that I struggle to understand for the rest of my life.

————

The men’s small group decided to fast one day this week so we could talk about it on Monday evening at our weekly meeting. We were hoping that everyone would get something out of it or, if they haven’t done it before, maybe just learn what the experience is like… personally, I’ve fasted at times in the past, but it’s not an aspect of Christianity I’ve ever come to truly understand. I can see fasting if there’s something dire happening, or where you really want to draw closer to God. If you’re mourning, and/or really need to devote yourself in prayer… But just saying, "Hrm, I think I’ll fast on Saturday!" just for kicks, I’ve never really gotten that.

Still, that’s what I did. I read a couple of shorter books of the Bible this morning, spent the entire day in the apartment doing not much of anything (in order to conserve energy; I figured if I really went and did anything, I’d get really hungry), and finished the afternoon reading Ecclesiastes and napping on the couch. I hadn’t planning on falling asleep, but I hadn’t eaten in 22 hours and, well, it was comfy.

I had some weird, stream-of-consciousness dreams, and for a while thought I was awake but still thinking coherently. In retrospect, I’m fairly certain I wasn’t, but when I awoke two hours later, I had a sense of peace I hadn’t had before. My thoughts had centered around justifications for fasting. Why were we doing it? Why do we do it at all? And though I’m still not sure on the answer to these questions, I found an answer for myself, for this time.

I went into this gig thinking that, maybe by fasting I would learn why we fast. Maybe some spark of revelation would hit me at the end of the experience and illuminate, "Oh, that’s why we should fast!" When I awoke, though, the book of Ecclesiates continued to ring on my ears. "Meaningless, meaningless!" the teacher cries, "Everything is meaningless, simply chasing after the wind!"

If I want to learn something from God, I should simply ask Him. Sit down and study. Pray. I was chasing after the wind, thinking that if I experienced something, I might understand the theological importance behind it, but that doesn’t really work for me. And on a very real level, I don’t need to chase after God. It’d be like a cat chasing a string tied to a fan blade. It’s all around, and if I can just bring myself to step back and look, instead of leaping in and all over the place in a frenzy, I might come to understand what’s going on and why. God’s right here, so what can I gain by running all over the place for him? Will I find God better in Jerusalem than in Springfield? No. And just the same, I will not find him any better while fasting than while nourished.

I appreciate some of the aspects of the ritual, but for me, I have trouble with doing it just randomly, any old day. It’s the same for communion for me; there has to be a certain amount of ritual surrounding the experience for it to carry the correct gravitas for me. I would be better off eating and drinking, taking life as it comes, and spending time with God like I do every day, than trying to manufacture an experience. It’s like thinking, "Maybe if I just work a little harder, I’ll understand." The writer of Ecclesiastes assures us this is not the case, however, admonishing that all knowledge and wisdom belongs to God. As it is written in Chapter 2 (from the Message paraphrase):

And then I took a hard look at what’s smart and what’s stupid. What’s left to do after you’ve been king? That’s a hard act to follow. You just do what you can, and that’s it. But I did see that it’s better to be smart than stupid, just as light is better than darkness. Even so, though the smart ones see where they’re going and the stupid ones grope in the dark, they’re all the same in the end. One fate for all—and that’s it.

…

The best you can do with your life is have a good time and get by the best you can. The way I see it, that’s it—divine fate. Whether we feast or fast, it’s up to God. God may give wisdom and knowledge and joy to his favorites, but sinners are assigned a life of hard labor, and end up turning their wages over to God’s favorites. Nothing but smoke—and spitting into the wind.

In the cynical, skeptical writings of the Quester, as Eugene Peterson calls the author of Ecclesiastes, I began to truly understand that all Truth is God’s Truth. He decides whether to gift it to us or not; we can’t go out and take it for ourselves, not really. As such, we can’t earn it. I can’t fast enough to cajole God into teaching me something. The truth is that He has already offered me a place in His Kingdom. He called me to it before I was born, and Jesus died to assure it over two thousand years ago. God is going to teach me, and I am going to do my best to learn. Today, fasting, didn’t really bring that home for me. Reading the Bible and prayer napping did.

God gives me food, so I will eat. He has given me a good job, so I will work, and a nice home with a comfortable bed, so I will sleep indoors. He has given me discernment and knowledge and understanding that would boggle the mind of the pre-Christian me. He hasn’t given me a good understanding of or empathy for fasting, so I will continue to pursue a better understanding of that… I’m just not sure the random-fast is for me. 

I just wanted to extend/clarify on my response to Courtney’s similie last night because, frankly, I really liked it and thought my interpretation was awesome. If you have a different interpretation, that’s awesome too; you should totally post it here and we can discuss how wonderful similies/metaphors are because they allow us to run with them however we please!

Courtney said that having sex before marriage was like going to an art show, drunk, and intending to blow your entire life savings. There was a bit of confusion over what this meant, so I offered the following interpretation:

You work yourself up to it, over time, by getting drunk, and because you’re drunk you’re just stupid. So you stupidly go to this art show and somehow think it’s a good idea to take everything you have and invest it here. You purchase a work of art and, granted, it’s pretty. It’s wonderful. But in the end, you’ve spent everything you have for something that, while pretty, is two dimensional. It is fleeting, and you’ve taken this one thing and traded everything you have for it.

However, it’s not the end of the world. Yeah, you were stupid, and you’ll regret it, and you don’t really have much of value to show for it. A piece of art, a memory, a lesson… but it’s not the end of the world. You can go out and get a job (I used the example of Burger King because I was trying to think of someplace with low hiring standards where one might start getting their life back together) and start rebuilding your financial accounts, your life savings. It sucks, but it’s not the end. You can recover, and while you’ll never be the same, you have learned something.

The point is this. Having sex before marriage isn’t the end of the world. It isn’t good and, as most people (Christians anyways; I certainly know a number of atheists/agnostics/others who would disagree) who have given their virginity away prior to marriage will probably attest, you’ll regret it. You gave away something that is precious, a part of your self and your heart, for something that is fleeting. Temporary. To someone who, as is often the case in situations like this, isn’t going to stick by you. Or who has already left. You got something two dimensional and shallow in exchange for your complete trust and vulnerability, for your self and your love.

Sex is a sacred act that shares our innermost being with our partner, joining two as one. Giving that away to anyone other than your spouse simply can’t be defined as an OK thing. But like in the similie above, it’s not the end of the world. God still loves you, and will always love you, and if you pray and repent and return to Him, He will most certainly forgive you. In fact, he has already forgiven you. He forgave you before you were made, even dreamed of, and Jesus died for your sins thousands of years ago. God forgave you before you were saved, before you even heard of Him. Because of this, you can start to rebuild and, though you won’t be the same, you’re not broken. You’re not worthless. You’re not penniless. It’ll take time to recover emotionally, but it’s not the end of the world.

And chances are, the person who does become your spouse will forgive you. April forgave me, and over time I came to forgive myself for my youthful stupidity. For buying that piece of art, however nice it seemed at the time, with my entire life savings. For letting down my God who loves me and my future (now current, obviously) wife. I wish I had waited, but it wasn’t the end of the world. So long as we have God–and we always have God, if we’re willing to devote ourselves to Him–we’re not done. 

Have you heard this statement before, that "Jesus is not a religion?" It has become a motto of our disenfranchised generation that cannot identify with the rigors of a denominational setting. A generation that feels that schisms based on quibbles and petty differences should not exist within our Church, and that we are missing the bigger picture. A generation that is right, in those regards… but have taken their open-heartedness to an extreme that brooks vernacular inaccuracy.

It seems that a lot of people don’t want to have anything to do with the word "religion," just like they don’t want to support "the State" or "the Man." It’s probably a combination of the religious studies major in me with the poet in me that causes my teeth to gnash, though. When people tell me they’re not religious, but that they’re spiritual, or that they want to avoid Christianity as a religion even though they follow Christ (because they don’t want the stereotypes of Christianity applied to them), it is supremely frustrating.

To put it succintly, "religion" simply means to re-connect. Re meaning to do again (in the Latin), and lig being a connection (think of the word "ligament"). The vast majority of humanity has felt the need for a connection to something greater than them, to deity; a connection they do not have, or had in the past, and/or want more of. If you’re "spiritual instead of religious," you’re simply redefining something, not to make it more accurate, but instead to make it more convenient for yourself.

If you follow Christ, you are a Christian. Sorry if you don’t like the stereotypes associated with that. My best recommendation is to live life as the Bible says you should, subsequently break some of the stereotypes, and do your best to be a good Christian. If you want to avoid being lumped in with all the bad, hypocritical Christians, simply don’t be like them. Love people rather than condemning (unless you find yourself in a situation where the Bible states we must rebuke someone, which is still love and not condemnation, to be honest), live an honest and upright life, and love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your mind, all your soul, and all your strength.

We are Christians because we are called by His name. Because we follow Him and work to keep His Holy Word. Because we accepted the Good News of His salvation. Our religious beliefs are those of Christianity, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I want to reconnect with God. I want more of Him. If someone else thinks religion is bad because they’ve been burned in the past, then I’m sorry for them and want to help them. It doesn’t heal them for me to deny the label of being a religious man, though. All that can serve to do is fuel their bitterness towards religion. Rather, I must represent Christianity honestly and well, demonstrating that what we need isn’t less hypocrites, but rather that we need more good Christians.

God is Holy. It seems weird to think that we, who are so befouled, must do anything to uphold His name… but to those who neither follow nor understand our Lord Jesus, we must do our best to represent Him to them. If other Christians have besmirched God’s name, we must work to purify His image. We must show that God is not those foolish people. That Christians are not Christ.

We cannot do this by losing our religion. 

The latest installment in the Rambo series screens like a human food processor.  In fact, you’d be hard-pressed to find many horror movies with more gory action.  The opening scenes set the tone, as graphic images from Myanmar’s 60-year-old civil war depict grossly mutilated bodies and wanton destruction.  The bodies are real, no hollywood make-up or special effects needed, and director Sylvester Stallone clearly signals his agenda: celluloid images of body parts and blood are actually going to re-sensitize you this time.

Many people are unaware of Sly’s Christian faith, perhaps assuming that anyone who would produce the kinds of images associated with many of his films could hardly be inspired by the Holy Spirit, but Rambo defies such easy classification.  This time around, John Rambo is rescuing Christian missionaries who have journeyed into war-torn Myanmar to bring medicine and bibles to the oppressed Karen people.  A fair amount of dialogue and screenplay is devoted to establishing both the credibility and compassion of these Christian missionaries, one of whom (the pretty woman) is able to pierce Rambo’s calloused heart with her pleas for aid.  It is clear that Sly the director and Sly the actor are touched by the missionary impulse to sacrifice for others.

Therefore, when Rambo begins to do what Rambo does best ("when pushed, killin’ is as easy as breathin’.") and the scorched ground is carpeted with the mutilated remains of a fascist and brutal army, the "killin’" serves to highlight a beauty and tragedy that are somehow bigger than the macabre resolution to Rambo’s war. 

Amazingly, Sylvester (John Rambo) Stallone effectively utilizes the grotesque images of battle to shed light on and critique our ignorance of what Myanmar has been going through for almost 60 years.  More than that, he challenges the viewer to consider (like Roland Joffe’s The Mission) the role of faith in the face of oppression and injustice.  Stallone’s answer, I think, isn’t as apparent as the carnage might imply, and though the genre and style of this film will cause many to avoid it and many of those who see it to miss the subtext, there is much more going on in this action-flick than meets the eye.