Wednesday, August 29, 2012

The Debate, and How I Got There

Ethics was an interesting class.

I'd only had Randy Harris one other time, and that was for my wide-eyed, "I thought I knew a lot about the Bible because I did well in Bible Bowl but now you're blowing my mind with new ideas!" phase. By the time the fall of 2011 had rolled around, I was still having my mind rocked by new ideas, but a lot of the earth-shattering new beliefs were in the rear-view mirror, even if that meant that I had invited them to pile into the backseat for my journey.

Randy presented us with an outline of the different things we'd be working through in class: the first half of the semester would be examining different ethical models to better understand from which we operated, while the second half was more built around learning by debating about different issues of the day. Randy would present both sides of an issue to the best of his ability for a class period, then had two groups debate it back and forth the next class period. He would moderate those debates, sometimes soothing tempers if things got too testy, sometimes ripping into a group who were winning too easily to keep us on our toes. (He's quite talented at that.)

I had my preferences for what I really wanted to argue for when the topics were named, and I had some topics that I wanted to avoid like the plague. For instance, I was watering at the mouth to debate on the side of Affirmative Action, but would have been crestfallen to be on the opposite side. With the decision not up to the students, however, I could only hope that I would be debating on the side of something I believed in strongly.

Flash back to 2004 for a moment. I had recently turned 18, and I had a deep sense that it was my duty to vote in the presidential election. (Part of me still wrestles with why I'm so willing to vote for someone to work in Washington, D.C., but so often I'm apathetic towards local elections. I'm working on it, though...) Being young, I wasn't very well practiced at parsing the nuances of issues or candidates, so it all came down to two factors when I went to the polling place: I thought that George W. Bush was more likely to do a good job of taking care of Texas than John Kerry, since Bush was from Texas, and I thought that the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan could end up being a positive if once they were won, Christian missionaries would have more ability to evangelize there.

Looking back, I'm pretty ashamed of my reasons for that vote. Sure, there were legitimate reasons to vote for Bush and for Kerry, but I didn't search very deep for those reasons, I just went with the easiest answer. That frustrates me, especially that I so easily justified war in my mind.

Within the space of a few years, I watched several friends go to war. I feel eternally blessed that most of them have returned alive so far, but through my conversations with them, I have begun to realize what a heavy burden war is to so many. In my heart, I began to believe that the reasons I held in 2004 were not justification enough for the horrors of war.

I have continued to look at my own justifications of war and those of others. Though it was a long and slow journey, the list of reasons I could accept as reasonable shrank considerably as the years progressed.

Suddenly, Randy Harris called my name. I was a part of the group advocating for peace without the use of violence.

SCORE!

I feel like every group project in school has either that one person who goes all out, the person who doesn't contribute anything or both. Confession time: I was the non-contributor at times during my extended college career. But not this time.

We were required to debate as if we held the views for which we were advocating, so we divvied up the different topics for our paper. As the resident Ministry/Sociology major of our group, I was assigned writing up the Biblical and social aspects of our "Pro-Peace" debate. (If you're just a glutton for punishment, feel free to read the paper here. The parts I wrote are the introduction and page 3 and 4.)

One of the most persuasive arguments against our side had already been laid out in three simple words: "What about Hitler?" We knew, without a doubt, that our classmates would be tossing that question at us, hoping that we would be unable to squirm around the uncomfortable truth that if a raving lunatic or truly evil person gains power, something must be done. Their position was that just war was not only allowable, it was necessary at times. How do you argue against fighting Hitler?

We had arrived at our answer to that question well in advance, since we knew it was coming, but I happened to be strolling around the Bible building an hour before our debate, when I ran into Dr. Chris Flanders. He's a professor in the Graduate School of Theology, a friend, and something of a mentor to me, or at least someone who cares about me. I casually mentioned the debate, and he said, "You got a minute? I've got something you might find helpful." I quickly agreed, and he led me to the campus bookstore. There he pulled a book from the shelf and handed it to me as my eyes got wide. He smiled as I hurriedly thanked him and purchased it immediately.

I found the rest of my group preparing for the debate, and beamed as I lay the book down on the table. It was entitled "What about Hitler?"

We flipped to one of the last chapters, because authors rarely just get right to the very best part, and found our position articulated beautifully, much more eloquently than we could have pulled off on the spot.

"At this juncture it is time for me to respond to the Hitler question: how should Christians respond to the kind of evil Hitler represents if just war theory and supreme emergencies are precluded, and if we live with a different measure of success?
We must live faithfully; we must be humble in our faith and truthful in what we say and do; we must repay evil with good; and we must be peacemakers. This may also mean as a result that the evildoers will kill us. Then, we shall also die.
That's it. There is nothing else-- or rather, anything else is only a footnote to this. We are called to live the kingdom as he proclaimed it and be his disciples, come what may. We are, in his words, flowers flourishing and growing wild today, and tomorrow destined for the furnace. We are God's people, living by faith.
The gospel is clear and simple, and I know what my response to the Hitler question must be. And I desperately want to avoid this conclusion. When my time comes, I may well trot out every nuanced argument I can develop, or seek a way out in St. Thomas Aquinas or Paul Ramsey. This would serve me and my fear, my hypocrisy, and my faithlessness very well. But I would not be telling the truth or living as I ought and as I am called to live.

I've had a hard time justifying killing under any circumstance for a while now, but my problem with that has been the lingering question of, "If not violence, then what?" While war feels wrong to me, I don't feel right about standing against something without offering a viable alternative solution. Yet that alternative had been taught to me my whole life without me realizing it.

Jesus was innocent, and had every right to use violence, but chose a different path. He did not hurt those who we would call his enemies, but he also stood up peacefully against them. He found a third way to deal with those who used violence and intimidation to hurt others, like when he disarmed the crowd who sought to stone the woman caught in adultery. He did not run from the soldiers who came to arrest him, neither did he allow his disciples to fight them. His words, "Put your sword away, for he who lives by the sword dies by the sword!" ring in my ears when I try to rationalize the losses of war as necessary. Jesus affirmed the humanity of Peter and Malchus in the garden.

So, as a Christian who has long struggled with violence and what could be an appropriate alternative, I would like to submit Jesus' example to those who might be feeling the same as I have, and even to those who have no problem with waging a "just war." Below is a potential way that non-violence could be used to mitigate between two warring sides, whether both are aggressors, or one side is attacking a peaceful group.

Imagine Canada suddenly broke out into a civil war. Eastern provinces vs. Western provinces. Instead of choosing a side that seems most right and fighting with them or staying out of the entire mess, imagine ten thousand Christians standing between the two groups. No weapons, just people. The Christians send word to both sides with a simple message:

"We believe that you are worthwhile, because you are a human, and thus we cannot suffer the thought of you dying or being ravaged by war in your body, mind, or heart. In the same way, we believe that our brothers and sisters with whom you are at war are just as worthwhile. We will not stop you from fighting, but you will have to fight through us. We are willing to die on this ground, but we are not willing to allow violence towards any human. If you choose to fight those you call your enemies, do so knowing that to kill them, you must kill us first."

It's certainly not a popular vision of how to mediate conflict. I'm sure that there are some glaring issues that would have to be worked out (Like how to stand between factions in a time of guided missiles, where are you going to find that many people willing to die for the sake of others, etc.). This vision is not easy, by any means. It's so radical that it seems impossible. But we have glimpses of those who lived in such a way, like Jesus, Gandhi, and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. It's a standard I don't know if I can live up to.

But it also helps my faith to see an alternative to war. I have a hard time believing that God desires war. Certainly there are passages in the Old Testament that point to a bloodthirsty God, but in Jesus, we see God's best representation on Earth of what God desires for a human to be like. In Jesus, we see someone who is radically peaceful.

I do not want to belittle or invalidate Christians who feel called to join the military. My voice is just one of many in a chorus of believers who are trying to figure out how best to follow Jesus. And while the conclusions I have drawn are right for me, I do not pretend to speak for the entire spectrum of Christianity, nor can I with any certainty say that I've figured out what God wants. I can only express what I have learned and believed based on my own experiences and studies.

This isn't the last time the blog will feature this topic. Next time it comes up, I'm looking forward to sharing some ideas about how this ideal could be lived out daily. Shane Claiborne has some good stories that speak to that, so be looking for it in the future. Until then, feel free to discuss your own thoughts in the comments section.

Monday, August 27, 2012

Media Monday - One Day

Each Monday, this blog will feature a song, video, piece of art, or other type of media that tells part of a story. Sometimes the message will be light and funny, other times it will be deeper and more somber. I may not even fully agree with what is posted. My aim is to present narratives that are worth experiencing, knowing, and discussing.

For today, our media is one of my favorite songs of all-time. It's by Matisyahu, called "One Day," and because I think I finally figured out how to embed youtube videos directly into my posts, all you have to do to watch it is click below...




If you clicked on the links from Sunday, you might notice a continuation of the same theme from Dr. Beck's post. Matisyahu sings about a future without war, free from violence and hate. As you might realize if you've met me, these posts aren't popping up on the blog for no reason. They are a big part of who I am and who I hope to be.

Before someone attempts to gently burst my overly-optimistic bubble, I don't think the "one day" he sings about is coming anytime soon. Though I would love to live in a world without war, I hold no grand illusions of seeing such a place. But as a Christian, I feel like I am called to not only hope for a better world, but work for a better world.

For a better explanation of the story behind some of my thoughts on war, check back Wednesday, when I'll be writing about an interesting debate I was assigned to in an Ethics class, and some of the precursors to that debate. I'm certain that many won't agree with the conclusions I have reached, but I've found that I can respect those I disagree with more easily once I better know the road they traveled to come to their conclusions. Whether you agree with where I stand, think I'm a fool, or something else, as of Wednesday at least you'll know how I got here.

Sunday, August 26, 2012

Linking for Thinking - 8/26/12

Every Sunday, I'll be whittling my reading list down to a few links that I found particularly interesting from the past week. Some may be profound/deep thinking articles or news stories, others may be things that fascinate me or made me laugh. Some will be on issues I already agree with, others will be those that have challenged me to think in new ways. If there's anything you think I'd be interested in, or something you think might be worth sharing in this space, feel free to leave it in the comments section, email me at coth.guy@gmail.com, or hit me up on facebook.

Pew Research on Economic Segregation
Two cities in Texas -- Houston and Dallas -- rank the highest when it comes to economic segregation as measured by the so-called RISI Score (Residential Income Segregation Index). 

A Restless Patriotism (by Dr. Richard Beck at Experimental Theology)
I was thinking the other day about just war theory. Let's say, for the sake of argument, that there is such a thing as a just war. That there are times when going to war is the lesser of two evils. Evil, yes, always evil, but the lesser evil given the choices before the nation. If this is granted then is must also be granted that the nation could engage in an unjust war. That is, there are just wars and unjust wars and Christians should support the former, albeit reluctantly, and object and refuse to participate in the latter.

Jesus without Shane Claiborne (by Rachel Held Evans)
In short, I make the perfect the enemy of the good. I become paralyzed by my own idealism. 

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

A Rocker, Cornrows, and a Change of Perspective


Teen Week was always hit or miss for me. I seem to get the best of the best or the worst of the worst. More often I got the problematic kids in the past, but that changed for me Week 6. Five campers came through my cabin that week, and forever changed me.

When they began calling out who was in my cabin, I was nervous. I’d been given the oldest kids. They looked pretty hardened. Tattoos and corn rows. My five were very different. Three from inner city Houston, one who called Oklahoma City home, and one hailing from Waco.

I’m always wary when there’s one kid who doesn’t seem to fit in, and this week that appeared to be J.B. He was the only white kid, and had some pretty severe mental handicaps. He wasn’t able to speak much at all. He was the one from Waco, brought by the Church Under the Bridge, which works heavily with homeless people and the down-and-out.

Then again, James didn’t seem to fit the mold of the prototypical camper either. He was a self-proclaimed “Rocker,” wearing skull and crossbones belt and suspenders, tight jeans, and a black sleeve on his left arm. I could tell this week was going to be interesting, to say the least.

But lo and behold, within the first day or two, James tells us either during or right after a Bible study that while he believes in God and Jesus, he doesn’t really know much about them. That’s why he came to camp, apparently, for the sole purpose of learning more about God.

This is the kind of camper counselors have dreamed about. I felt like I had waited for seven summers to finally be ready for this one week, this one camper. During our chilling in the cabin time, I lent him my Bible, and started him out in Matthew. This kid reads twelve chapters in one sitting, pausing only when he got confused by some of Jesus’ deeper teaching to ask me what it meant.

Interestingly enough, everything he was asking about boiled down to one major point, a point I’m sure Jesus wanted to make clear back then, but also wanted me to share this summer. Questions about getting angry and calling someone bad names, looking at a woman lustfully being as bad as adultery, and most of his other queries boiled down to Jesus wanting more than obedient actions. He wants our hearts to be in the right place. If we have that, obedience and love in action will surely follow.

With J.B., things were more difficult. It took a lot to understand what he was trying to communicate, and he was frustrating at times. But my co-counselors and I were able to work with him, and he had a great heart. What I was most impressed with was how respectful and understanding the four other campers were. Even though he could be embarrassing and immature, they always treated him not only well, but as a friend. It was amazing to watch.

I talked to the two guys who really seemed to look out for him the most (Who happened to be the toughest looking ones in the entire Camp.), Darieon and Ray Ray. I let them know how much we appreciated them looking out for J.B., and both just sorta shrugged their shoulders at me. To them, it wasn’t a big deal to treat someone different kindly. Ray Ray even mentioned that there were similar problems in his family, and went on to talk about how that shaped the way he looked at people.

I was touched.

By the end of the week, I knew something special had happened. I don’t know where those guys are right now, or what they’re doing. But each of them left knowing more about God’s love than they did at the beginning of the summer. And so did I.

Monday, August 20, 2012

Media Monday - Take Me As I Am

Each Monday, this blog will feature a song, video, piece of art, or other type of media that tells part of a story. Sometimes the message will be light and funny, other times it will be deeper and more somber. I may not even fully agree with what is posted. My aim is to present narratives that are worth experiencing, knowing, and discussing.

For today, our media is a song written and performed by musical artist named Lecrae. He brings a Christian message wrapped in a Hip-Hop sound. Check it out below, then I'll explain why I chose it. 


Take Me As I Am - Lecrae

My great love for Christian Hip Hop began years ago at Camp of the Hills. Someone brought Lecrae's debut album, "Real Talk," to camp, and it was an immediate hit with our campers. Maybe that's partially because the summer before, we listened almost exclusively to "The Collection" by Acappella. Nothing against the album, but it wasn't exactly the style of music most of our campers enjoyed best. So when the beat dropped at Camp of the hills, the kids were thrilled.

I didn't take much notice of it for the first few weeks. I had never cultivated the listening skills required to understand rap lyrics that were hurtling toward me at a hundred miles per hour, so I trusted my friends who said they were Christian, was excited for the kids who liked the music, and went on with my life. Until a fateful drive with Craig Maddux (of Turtle Watch 2004 fame) changed everything.

I don't remember the reason he and I were riding together or where we were going. I don't remember most of the topics of conversation. But I do remember that he slipped some Lecrae into his CD player, and I complained about hearing this music all the time at camp.

"You hear it all the time, but do you really listen to it?" he asked.

I admitted that I hadn't listened very well yet, and that the only part of the album I knew was the chorus of "Represent," in which Lecrae yells to represent and get krunk quite a few times. Having heard that story from multiple other people in the past, Craig knew just what to do. He switched tracks to the song linked to above, and took me through it line by line.

As a person who regularly works with people that the church deems "the least of these," songs like this hit home. I greatly appreciate songs that come from the perspective of someone who is struggling with faith God. This is the kind of song that I love to share with the kids at Camp of the Hills, so much so that I incorporated "Take Me As I Am" into my final devotional talk of the week during my first year as Camp Director.

My heart drifts back to this song today because I have the words written in a letter by a friend ringing in my ears today. He is an aspiring poet/song-writer from the Youth Group in Buffalo Gap. (I serve as Youth Intern there.) This young man was sent to jail over the summer for some bad stuff, and recently sent a letter to the Youth Minister, Josh Kirby. He read it to me last night, and I was moved by how much he had grown and matured in just a few short months. He wrote of studying the Bible with other inmates, teaching them a prayer we learned together, and looking forward to seing us again when he gets out in the future. He included a new poem that he found and has been helping him, which I've transcribed below:

More than a Night

Some people see the light and expect a change to happen overnight.
But the real truth is that it doesn't happen that fast, 'cause we first have to deal with our dark, hidden past.
The light only exposes our God-awful sins, and it shows us just how dirty we've been.
It shows all the cheating and hurting we've done, and dealing with our past just isn't fun.
There are so many habits that need to be changed, but God's got a plan that has been prearranged.
So he's sent us a light that shines through his words, and has given us ears so the truth can be heard.
With patience and love he works on us all, by slowing tearing down that sin-built wall.
For some of us it's a week and for others a life, but with God, there's a peace that's gonna end all strife.
So let us all pray that we see the true light, and realize that change will take more than a night.

Since my friend loves Hip Hop, and obviously has a soft spot for lyrics about redemption, I immediately thought of the song I linked to earlier. My hope is that I can find a way to send it to him, so that he can be encouraged by the message of the Kingdom of God being open to anybody, no matter their past. But beyond that, he seems to be connecting with other inmates in ways I could never dream to. Maybe I can get this music into his hands, and more like it, even more people believe that, "even if the world don't see us, we still mean the world to Jesus."

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Linking for Thinking - 8/19/12

Every Sunday, I'll be whittling my reading list down to a few links that I found particularly interesting from the past week. Some may be profound/deep thinking articles or news stories, others may be things that fascinate me or made me laugh. Some will be on issues I already agree with, others will be those that have challenged me to think in new ways. If there's anything you think I'd be interested in, or something you think might be worth sharing in this space, feel free to leave it in the comments section, email me at coth.guy@gmail.com, or hit me up on facebook.

A Plea to Engage in Racial Reconciliation (by Grace Biskie via Rachel Held Evans)
I don't toss that list out lightly. Nor do I present it with judgment or condemnation. I am not looking to set you on a point-of-no-return guilt trip. None of that from me. Please consider this an invitation for you to love me, your neighborTo disengage is to fail to love.

Porch Journal (from Larry James at CitySquare)
Before I left I told Art, "You have real community here.  All you lack are places to live."

Your God is Too Big (from Richard Beck)

Might our God be too big? Too big for us to see the smallness of God? Where is God? God is here--weak and hanging on the gallows.

Heartwarming Tearjerker
What happens when a ten year old Canadian's elation at his country winning bronze is shattered by a disqualification? He writes a letter to the sprinters to encourage them, with a surprise gift for them! Super cute and kind!

Saturday, August 18, 2012

Council in Jerusalem

There's a professor at ACU named Randy Harris. I was blessed to have him for a class my first semester studying in Abilene for Acts-Revelation and later in my next-to-last semester for Ethics. In my first day in his class, I was fresh from the mission field in Thailand, ready to sink my teeth into some Biblical knowledge that I hoped would help guide me as I sought to be a minister in the future. My enthusiasm bled into my notes, which I saved onto my computer for later perusing. Rereading it years later, I still remember how excited I was to be learning from Randy, especially when I read through my notes, a piece of which I've copied for you to check out below.

Acts 15 Council at Jerusalem Crucial Moment
What must a Gentile do to become a Christian?
Accept circumcision? Nope. Don't hafta be a Jew to be a Christian.
Accept Christ. Boo-yeah.
Food laws? What the what?
TABLE FELLOWSHIP! OH SNAP!
One table, not two!
THIS IS DANG IMPORTANT!

Looking back, I get the feeling that my note taking style isn't especially helpful for most people, especially those who weren't in the class to hear the points that my notes reflect. Which is why I decided to decipher my scribblings. For starters, here's a link to Acts 15, in case you need a refresher. (I sure did!)

One of the things that jumps out to me in this passage is that the council decides not to put the yoke of extra rules on the Gentiles, and decides that only the most important rules will be passed on. This seems like a good idea for a group of relatively new believers. The idea of not burdening them with the cumbersome laws from the Jewish culture is astonishing, especially since the Jews placed such a value on their culture. This is not without good reason, either. Though many Jewish customs had been added to and amended over the years, their culture was still a product of God's choosing them. Jesus, Savior of the World, came from within this culture, and though he challenged many pieces of the culture that were not of God, Jesus was most certainly a Jew.

With that in mind, when these Jewish leaders of the early church were faced with wrestling about how to integrate Gentiles into an overwhelmingly Jewish faith, they opted to leave out as much of the cultural trappings of Judaism as they could. Anything they didn't believe was essential was left out of the equation, and the Gentiles were given a short list of what they needed to do. (This was obviously on top of the message that was preached to them by Paul, Barnabas, or other missionaries.)

And what were these stipulations? Avoid sexual immorality and don't eat some stuff. Don't worry about circumcision, you're fine without it.

On the one hand, this short list doesn't seem like the biggest of deals to me. Jesus has already mentioned the sexual immorality thing. Unless the missionaries conveniently forgot to mention the, "Oh, by the way, before you sign on: God doesn't want us to be sexually immoral..." part of Jesus' life and teachings, I think the Gentile Christians are already down with that point. (I don't know Paul personally, but that doesn't seem like the kind of mistake he would make while ministering.)

And to be fair, I bet the Gentile Christians were pretty relieved about the whole circumcision thing. I don't know how much the co-pay was back then, but I'm always thrilled when I learn I don't have to have surgery, and I imagine them being pretty stoked to hear the news.

But I had always been confused by the food laws part of this. Sure, Leviticus and Deuteronomy seemed to be chockablock full of commands about what the Jews could or couldn't eat, but this is part of the new covenant! I thought food laws got thrown out when God said to Peter, "Take and eat," otherwise, I've got a lot of fried shrimp and bacon on my conscience. I guess where I ran into a snag wasn't an unwillingness to give up those foods, but a lingering question of, "Why are these food laws so dang important?"

As Randy explained it, these requirements were imperative for table fellowship. If Jews and Gentiles were going to be a family, they had to eat together. It was a must. Christianity meant shared meals. The Jews were not in a place, theologically, to be alright with those foods. If Gentile Christians brought them to the table, it would fracture their unity. Maybe it would have been easier to split the table, with Jews at one and Gentiles at another, but unity was far too important.

The Jewish Christians were alright with not burdening their Gentile brothers with unnecessary surgery, but they and the Holy Spirit agreed that unity was worth sacrificing for. It was inconvenient and troublesome on the Gentile Christians. It wasn't even something Jesus specified as part of his teaching. But the unity of believers was of such great importance that the sacrifice was made.

I often wonder which part of this story I am called to live on a given day. Will I have to sacrifice freedoms in order to preserve unity, like the Gentile Christians giving up foods? Will I have to sacrifice important parts of my culture in order to ensure that the yokes of my sisters and brothers in Christ are not overly heavy unnecessarily, like the Jewish Christians not demanding circumcision, even though it had long been an outward sign of being one of God's people. Will I need to be like Peter, Paul, and James, speaking on the behalf of others when biases and traditions stand opposed to God's work in the lives of people?

I became excited when I learned what was actually happening in Acts 15. Randy taught me that God's people were trying to find what was most central to the Gospel in this passage, and helped me learn to seek the same thing in my own life.

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Turtle Watch 2004


This story is one of numerous swimming hole stories that we’ve amassed over the years, but it’s probably my favorite of them all.

First of all, we need to begin with Will Moore’s discovery. Whilst swimming around, my friend Will saw a tiny turtle coming up for air. Soon he had caught it and taken it ashore. No bigger than a fifty-cent piece, it was pretty darn cute. The pool was abuzz with the news of the turtle, and by the time we had our first Cabin Check, everybody was aware that there had been a turtle in the water.

Some speculation followed, and rumors of another turtle were whispered. Most of the counselors were convinced that this was naught but excitement over Willo’s turtle. But the rumors spread nonetheless, and soon even we were scouring the waters for the alleged turtle.

Soon thereafter, we heard a bunch of yelling on the far side of the pool. A counselor had seen a large, black turtle head pop out of the water, and upon being seen, had submerged back into the murky abyss. Now that we had a credible witness to the turtle’s existance, we were on full alert. All eyes scanned the water’s surface in hopes of finding the terrapin.

Every five to ten minutes, a shout would be heard, and a mad rush towards the spot the turtle was last seen would ensue, but each attempt was unsuccessful. Several times the turtle would swim into the foot or leg of a hapless swimmer, causing much flailing, screaming, and splashing, as well as causing the bolder of the counselors, such as Craig Maddux and myself, to dive beneath the brown waters and grope blindly for the turtle, but to no avail. Some of the unscrupulous counselors discovered that pinching a girl counselor’s feet while unseen underwater, would cause just as much panic as the actual reptilian they were mimicking.

Our tactics were not providing the results we wanted. We needed to step up our search. I believe it was Chris Field’s idea to lock our arms and comb the water from one side to the other with a huge, impenetrable line of people. Unfortunately, when the line formed and moved forward, the turtle chose to try to break through in the weakest place, much like a smart Red Rover player. It went straight into a group of linked girls, and the screaming and thrashing that ensued was a sight to behold.

Nobody that I’ve talked to remembers who told the kids to “Do the Turtle Call,” but it became one of the most amazing moments in Camp history. Almost as if they had all been taught that the Turtle Call just like a Cow Call would be “Moo,” or a Sheep Call would be “Baaaa,” all of the kids began to quietly say “Wooooooooooo,” as if imitating a timid and high-toned ghost. It baffled us to no end why they all thought that a Turtle would respond to that specific noise, but soon the counselors were joining in.

Swimtime was coming to an end. Clint Askins was life-guarding, and we were begging him for five more minutes to search out the turtle. Being the classy guy he is, Clint accepted, and granted us the time we so desperately wanted.

That’s when it happened. We saw Craig run and dive into the water. As he stood up, muddy water was running down his body, his arms were raised above his head, and a gleam of triumph was in his smile, for a large turtle was clutched in his hands. The kids rallied to and around him, as did the counselors. We circled the pool in a parade behind Craig and his catch, chanting in an Animal House way, “Turtle! Turtle! Turtle!”

We posed for pictures with it before heading back to the Cabins for showers, each of us knowing in our heart that the day would live on in Camp of the Hills lore, long after that summer had passed. To this day, I consider that to be the most fun swimming time we’ve ever had.

Monday, August 13, 2012

Media Monday - Hans Rosling on HIV

Each Monday, this blog will feature a song, video, piece of art, or other type of media that tells part of a story. Sometimes the message will be light and funny, other times it will be deeper and more somber. I may not even fully agree with what is posted. My aim is to present narratives that are worth experiencing, knowing, and discussing.

For today, our media is an informative and encouraging look at the HIV/AIDS epidemic, as told by one of my favorite people at TED.com. Check it out below.


Hans Rosling illuminates how the HIV/AIDS narrative is changing. 


First of all, I'm a big fan of TED Talks. Brilliant presenters speaking on what they're most knowledgable and most passionate. It's a remarkable website.

You may have already figured out that I'm an optimist by now, which explains why I'm so thrilled by this video. Rosling breaks down an astonishing amount of data, and makes it digestible for regular folks. I love that he's not just optimistic, but has data that substantiates his hopefulness.

I never really knew much about HIV/AIDS before watching this video, although I have read several articles and watched other videos after this TED Talk sparked my interest. Despite some sketchy scenes and a lot of coarse language, Rent did a good job of unveiling the life of people living with the virus. Rosling helped me expand my knowledge beyond the misconceptions that I had grown up hearing. Basically, my Sex Ed. class mentioned the disease, mainly saying that if you had premarital sex, you could get HIV/AIDS and die. Apparently, that was all we needed to know.

One of the things that struck me was that the bubbles that Rosling shows us represent so many people. If Rent helped remind me that people living with HIV/AIDS were more than statistics, this video reminds me that there are millions of individuals struggling to live their lives despite their condition.

A point that I love from Rosling's talk is that "...people say HIV is very high in Africa. I would say, 'HIV is very different in Africa!'" (Interesting note that may only interest me: This teaching technique is very old. Jesus is recorded as using the same "You have heard it said... but I say to you..." in the Gospels.) My friends who hail from Kenya, Tanzania, and South Africa have passionately argued the same point that Rosling argues: we do African citizens and ourselves a disservice when we attempt to simplify an entire continent into one characterization. As Rosling puts it, "It's not very respectful, and it's not very clever."

It was also fascinating to see the differences between income groups in Tanzania, with those with larger incomes having a higher rate of HIV/AIDS. The same goes for Kenya's different provinces. It's baffling to see such stark contrasts in the amount of infected persons based on where they live. This data certainly makes treating the whole of Kenya for the disease in the same seem silly.

Rosling ends his talk with a hopeful sentiment. He encourages us to continue fighting AIDS with our heart, to continue fighting AIDS with our money, but to find ways to combine those with fighting AIDS with our minds. For me, this video was a great start in that direction.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Linking for Thinking - 8/12/12

Every Sunday, I'll be whittling my reading list down to a few links that I found particularly interesting from the past week. Some may be profound/deep thinking articles or news stories, others may be things that fascinate me or made me laugh. Some will be on issues I already agree with, others will be those that have challenged me to think in new ways. If there's anything you think I'd be interested in, or something you think might be worth sharing in this space, feel free to leave it in the comments section, email me at coth.guy@gmail.com, or hit me up on facebook.

For starters, here's some of what I've been reading this week. It's a little sparse, since I've been doing a lot of work with Amanda and my good friends Josh and Deb Kirby preparing for the Buffalo Gap Church's Vacation Bible School. We built a castle. 

Americans want a more equal country (Shared by Davin Haley)
"We asked thousands of people to describe their ideal distribution of wealth, from top to bottom. The vast majority -- rich, poor, GOP and Democrat -- imagined a far more equal nation. Here's why it matters."

Outside Your Comfort Zone (Shared on David Smith's blog)
"Reality is that we move toward what we esteem. The first step is simply to confess that getting out of your comfort zone is a good thing."


Lifehack of the Week
"It may look a little dorky, but placing a cupcake liner over your drink with a hole for a straw will help keep your beverage insect-free."

Camp Counselor Experience (A recent post from Jessica Ragan, an amazing counselor who worked at Camp of the Hills this summer)

"My worries consumed me and consequently, I came in convinced I'd have a less than average time at camp. God proved me so wrong."

Friday, August 10, 2012

"...the hand of God was on the people to give them unity of mind..."

One of my favorite passages from the Bible is the story laid out in 2 Chronicles 30. Obscure? Yes, definitely, but relevant. Let me set the stage...

The king of Judah is a guy named Hezekiah. His father, Ahaz, was king before Hezekiah and did a pretty terrible job of it. Ahaz got his butt kicked by just about everyone and led the people away from God. I'm not sure how Hezekiah ended up so good when his dad was a super jerk, but it happened.

Chapter 30 joins Hezekiah as he's preparing for one of the biggest celebrations of the Jewish calendar, one that hadn't been properly observed in a long time. The Passover, a celebration of God delivering their people from Egypt, was a big deal. It was important to the young king for everything to go right.

But there was a problem: he had just finished a major renovation/rededication project to the temple in their capitol city, and there wasn't enough time to put everything together. The Passover was supposed to be held at a certain time of the year, and there was no way to make it happen on time.

Beyond that, Hezekiah had this crazy idea of not just inviting the people from his country of Judah, but extending the invitation to Israel to the north, along with Manasseh and Ephraim. If you're not super familiar with all the geo-political implications of this move, Judah had been a part of Israel back in the day, but they split into two separate factions after a big dispute about who was the rightful king. In fact, one of the countries that had been kicking Ahaz's butt was Israel. There was some bad blood going on between these two countries, for sure.

Instead of sending an army to try to avenge his father's losses, Hezekiah sends words of reconciliation to his neighbors. He ends his message to them with the following:

"If you return to the Lord, then your fellow Israelites and your children will be shown compassion by their captors and will return to this land, for the Lord your God is gracious and compassionate. He will not turn his face from you if you return to him."

Hezekiah, the priests, and "the whole assembly in Jerusalem" choose to break the rules about when the Passover is commanded to be celebrated. Maybe they broke it so they could keep moving forward with the momentum they gained from restoring the temple. Maybe it was so that the messengers could have extra time to invite Israel. Maybe it was a little of both.

The invitation is laughed at by many, but chapter 30 also reveals that some of those who were far removed from Judah heard and accepted the offer. It ends with a huge party that the people just refuse to let end, so an extra week gets tacked onto the celebration. That text even mentions that foreigners living in Judah and Israel get in on the action! God's providence in the past is remembered with joy, and certainty of God's nearness in the present is proclaimed.

The reason I love this passage so much is that it gives me hope for reconciliation. As I wrote about on Monday, unity is a big deal for me. Hezekiah shows that not only is reconciliation worth working for, but it is also something that the people of God have bent/broken the rules for in the past. It was against what was written about how to observe the Passover, but it seemed right to the king and the people, so they did it. Instead of being struck down for their impudence, Hezekiah gets described as someone who "...did what was right in the eyes of the Lord..." in the previous chapter.

While I don't take this passage to be a blank check for breaking every rule God set forth as long as I can couch my reasoning in the name of unity, it encourages me that sometimes the people of God can love and invite others into community, even when doing so is against the letter of the law. I want to be the kind of person that looks for creative ways to show the world God's love, even if that means some laws aren't upheld for the sake of the unity God desires.

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Crushed Crystals

(Note to readers: Wednesdays are going to be dedicated to telling stories. Sometimes my own, maybe sometimes other people's. To start, here's the earliest story I can remember from my childhood.)

First grade was a time of transition for me.

During Kindergarden I had learned an invaluable lesson about girls: no matter how strong your feelings were for a girl, you had to muster the confidence to actually do something constructive about your crush, otherwise you would get nowhere fast. I also learned that asking Mrs. Godfrey if I could move my nap mat nearer to Ashley Sweet's mat didn't count as "constructive." Ashley moved away over the summer before first grade, leaving my six year old heart reeling. I decided that I would not make the mistake of indecision the next time.

Next time was Stephanie Pitcock. I don't remember much about her, except that she was very nice and had dark hair, and her dad was friends with my dad through baseball or something. I do remember that she made me forget all about what's-her-name from Kindergarden.

My crush on Stephanie was a few months old before I was able to figure out how to approach her. Girls were still very scary, and I had no idea how to talk to her. But I was certain that if I could somehow convince her to be my girlfriend, that she'd fall in love with me, and we'd end up married. (If you stick around the blog long enough, you'll notice that this is a recurring theme.) The question in my mind was, "How do I get a girl to like me without talking to her?"

I was in a predicament, no doubt.

Luckily for me, television commercials had already taught me everything I needed to know. Jewelry commercials continually whispered into my ears that if you get a girl a pretty enough rock, she will love you forever. Each featured an overjoyed girl falling into the arms of the guy who brought her the pretty rock. I knew what I needed, but finding a rock pretty enough would be no small task.

I didn't get an allowance back then, and the change I found hidden in the couch cushions did not add up to enough to buy a diamond. This did not discourage me, though, because I knew lots about nature. Some combination of My Big Backyard and Ranger Rick magazines, the Discovery Channel, and a childhood of traipsing through the woods and creeks near my house had given me the confidence I needed to become an amateur geologist.

I told my mom that I was going out to play, but I was all business. I quickly set out for the areas near my house that had the most plentiful assortments of rocks to find what I needed to woo Stephanie. I soon had a decent-sized pile of rocks of every sort. None of them looked like much on the outside, but I knew better. Underneath the dull exterior, some of those stones concealed crystals of untold value.

I can't remember my mom's reaction when I popped my head back into the house to ask her for a hammer. I just remember that she allowed me to borrow it, which leads me to believe that such strange requests might have been commonplace in our house. By this age, I had already established an identity as a reptile catcher, yet hadn't fully learned not to bring them into the house, so maybe my mom was just relieved that I was taking things out of the house instead of bringing things in. Nevertheless, before long I was back at my rock pile, hammer in hand.
Any first grader could make the mistake of believing
this substance was worth as much as a new car, right?

My first few attempts proved fruitless. Apparently, dirt clods can be easily confused with rocks that might contain crystals, even by someone who regularly watched the Discovery Channel. Eventually, though, I found what I had sought. Looking back it was probably nothing more than the rose quartz that is so common in Texas, but to six year old me it was more precious than diamonds. I was certain that the crystals would win Stephanie's heart.

With this success under my belt, I was ready to really go to work. My arm became sore quickly, but I pressed on with optimism, imagining how she would react when I gave her this costly gift. Within a few minutes, I had pulverized several chucks of the rock into tiny, white crystals. I ran back to the house and grabbed some sort of cloth. Hopefully, I had enough sense not to borrow one of the good napkins, but I can't be sure that I didn't. Soon, the crushed up crystals were safely wrapped in the cloth. I stored my bundle in my backpack, and planned out my next move.

Despite having a fool-proof plan in the bag, as it were, there was still the looming problem of how to give it to Stephanie without having to use words. I pride myself in being resourceful, and first grade me was no exception. I asked my dad to drop me off at school a little earlier the next morning. Check and mate!

The hallways were dimly lit and quiet as I nervously walked towards our classroom. My confidence had left me overnight, and I was already shaking like a leaf. Terrible scenarios flashed through my head: What if the door is locked? What if someone sees me place it on her desk? What if she doesn't like to play with lizards and turtles? I reached the door about ten minutes before class started and I was freaking out. I reached up for the doorknob.

I didn't know much about miracles at age six, other than what I'd seen on various felt boards on Sunday mornings, but I was certain I was in the middle of one when the door was unlocked and the classroom was empty. With newfound confidence, I sauntered up to Stephanie's desk and neatly placed the cloth-wrapped crystals on her desk, then merrily plopped down into my seat a few rows behind her.

As I sat staring straight ahead in the empty classroom, the two flaws in my plan occurred to me: Either everyone would walk in and see me chilling at my seat and a super cool and fancy gift on Stephanie's seat, thus alerting the public to my very personal feelings, or people would come in a couple at a time, and she would have no way of knowing that the unmarked bag of crystals were from me.

Oops.

Some people have the ability to hold it together in stressful situations. I like to think that doing so is a strength of mine now. But, for the love, it was not a strength then! I don't remember the specifics, but it's safe to say that the next few minutes were full of uncomfortable squirming.

The rest of my class came in gradually, but I was too busy blushing face down into my desk to see when Stephanie arrived. It wasn't until a break between lessons for water that everything went down.

I was quietly sitting in at my desk, finishing up a worksheet, when I heard a voice say, "Hey, Drew?" I looked up, and there she was, walking toward me. I had nowhere to run. Not that my brain could have relayed a coherent message to my limbs at this point, but the feeling of being trapped added to the panic that was overtaking my heart, mind, body, and soul.

She held up the bundle with a puzzled look on her face and asked, "Are these from you?"

Suddenly, it was time for action. I gathered all the courage that I usually saved for catching snakes that I wasn't sure were venomous or not or for when commercials for "Are You Afraid of the Dark?" came on Nickelodeon, and decided to be a man. Through the blushing cheeks, sweaty palms, and knocking knees, I was able to talk to a girl.

"No, I don't know what you're talking about."

She raised one of her ridiculously cute eyebrows quizzically, but shrugged and walked away.

It was my first real failure in the girls department. I had caved in the critical moment. All the hard work and planning thrown out the window. I was a liar and a coward.

But I had talked to a girl!

And sitting in the back of that classroom, I thought to myself, "I can build on this..."

Monday, August 6, 2012

Media Monday - Diversity's Symphony

Each Monday, this blog will feature a song, video, piece of art, or other type of media that tells part of a story. Sometimes the message will be light and funny, other times it will be deeper and more somber. I may not even fully agree with what is posted. My aim is to present narratives that are worth experiencing, knowing, and discussing.

For today, our media is a spoken word piece by David Bowden called "Diversity's Symphony." Check it out below.

Diversity's Symphony by David Bowden

One of the parts of this video that strikes me the most is David's wrestling with his church's lack of unity with other groups of Christians. His Southern Baptist congregation doesn't work with the Nazarenes, Catholics, or even other Baptists. He speaks to the need for unity among the Body.

I don't know about others, but I have heard more sermons on unity within the Body than I can count. But unfailingly, they all seem to center around the idea of one congregation being the Body, instead of the entire Church being the Body; "Don't act like our church doesn't need somebody just because they play a different role," instead of "Don't act like the Presbyterians aren't Christians just because they do things differently."

I come from a stream of Christianity that has a history of believing that only those who are a part of our faith community are real Christians. (And that many claiming to be in our group aren't really Christians either!) Though these beliefs are not nearly as widespread in the Churches of Christ today, they've been so ingrained, both in CoCs and in those who know of them, that I'm sometimes asked, "Is that the one that thinks they're the only ones going to Heaven?" This questions hurts, because it's so far from the truth for me.

Confession time: I have a huge thing for unity. If a person can have a crush on an idea, then I definitely have had it bad for unity for several years. When I think about what I consider the ideal future for the Church, I imagine something similar to what David Bowden described lyrically. I imagine congregations that are united by what they have in common, not divided by their differences. I picture churches that value people from diverse backgrounds, whether that diversity means races, ages, mental disabilities, languages, financial situations, or faith backgrounds.

Sure, it seems overly optimistic. But I have seen flashes of it in the past. Christian sisters and brothers from a wide variety of faith backgrounds coming together to serve a one Body for a season. A congregation that actively seeks to bring in and make welcome mentally handicapped, and serves them and their care-takers with love and dignity. Regular gatherings planned and led by a racially diverse mix of Christians, each mutually submitting to one another. These experiences have left me with hope that God can still unify us, even if it seems impossible at times.

Sunday, August 5, 2012

The End and the Beginning

I just quit my dream job.

Well, maybe it's not quite that simple.

August 4th, 2012 was my final day as Camp Director of Camp of the Hills. To be fair, I let my boss know that I was going to be ready to move on by the end of the 2012 summer sometime in the spring of 2011, so to characterize yesterday as "quitting" might be a tad dramatic. I had been planning how to transition from my time as Camp Director to my successor ever since I first got the job, since that change-over was less than ideal. When I felt like the end of my time was coming, I started preparing the next person's place.

What I didn't realize was that I was not as prepared for my next steps as I believed myself to be. I had believed that with my extensive experience working in ministry and non-profit settings, that I would have a position waiting lined up for after my last summer at camp. I thought that I would have an apartment set up in Abilene, or maybe even a house and a mortgage to which my wife and I would return.

Yet plans have a funny way of falling through sometimes. The non-profits and churches I talked to are not hiring. Amanda and I let our old apartment go at the end of the spring, since we had lodging for the summer at Camp of the Hills and desired to move into a low-income neighborhood in Abilene. After  some disappointments in trying to buy a house and touring a few undesirable apartments, she and I are still without a permanent place to live. We've planned ahead enough to have some financial cushion while I continue the job hunt and our dear friends the Kirbys have offered us room in their house until we find somewhere more permanent, but my life is certainly not what I expected it to be a few short months ago.

And so, here I sit. Typing on the floor, back to a couch in the Kirby's living room. The thirteen years spent at Camp of the Hills are now in the rear view mirror, as are the thirteen before camp. I can clearly see so much that lies behind me, sprawled out over more than a quarter century. Yet the future is unclear. Where will I go? What will I do? What challenges await? How will the ways I've been shaped by my experiences dictate how I meet the future?

More than anything, I look forward to new stories. I live for stories. Stories of what God has done, is doing, or will do. Stories of friends, family, and people I wish I knew. Stories that spark conversation. Stories that matter. My life has been marked with a plethora of great stories; stories that I need to and want to tell. I should get started.