Just FYI

I don't really use this blog anymore. I've moved on to another. It was based on my Ireland trip but more about journeys in general, and I could get really cliche with that, but I won't. I may still post something on here on occasion if I'm thinking about a lot and trying to sort things out, but for now, it's Adventures of the Traveling Rainbow Cake. 

In the middle

I feel like I've somehow gotten a lot older in the past three weeks. I've lived by myself for the first time--no dorms, no roommates. I've become a teacher with real, live students. I've been spending my free time with people who are over the age of 25, are married, who own the property where they live, who have masters degrees and careers, whose next "step" in life is deciding when to have kids. In some ways it's good; I'm kind of tired of being a teenager. Other times, though, I think I'm a lot older, but then I remember that I'm 19, and it results in an open-mouthed, wrinkled-forehead, quizzical look as I contemplate the paradox of feeling old while being young and only half way through college. I think I need to start spending more time with people my own age.

Mars, Venus, and unintentional dismounts

Rob Bell is from Mars, Baptists are from Venus.

When I first came to college two years ago, I was sent off with a strict warning by my conservative Baptist father to stay far away from Mars Hill. For those of you who don't know, Mars Hill is a church in the area that is pastored by fairly well known author and speaker Rob Bell. Baptists don't like Rob Bell, so it follows that they uphold a severe dislike of his church as well.

Rob Bell has made some controversial statements. He questions what is really at the heart of the Christian faith. He doesn't always take a stance on issues that are the center of many of the modern church's debates. He mentions salvation and grace, but is highly vague on how we accept that. In research I've done, I've often seen the name "Rob Bell" and the word "blasphemy" in the same sentence.

Back to two years ago. I didn't trust anyone who quoted Bell, attended Mars, or even reflected positive attitudes toward either of them. It was one of those, "Oh, you go to church there" kind of things. My Baptist horse was a very high one.

I took horse riding lessons for six years. I was pretty decent, but I was always terrified of falling off. I wasn't scared that it would hurt, but to me that was the biggest mistake I could possibly make, so I dreaded it. My instructor, Bridget, always told me, though, that it takes ten falls to make a good rider. Unfortunately, I only made it to three before I quit because it was too expensive. Another thing Bridget used to say is that falling wasn't a fall--it was an "unintentional dismount."

I met a few people at school here who made me reconsider my assumptions that Mars Hill housed the devil disguised as a caucasian man with spiffy glasses, but there was one person in particular who definitely was the cause of an unintentional dismount from my Baptist horse. It was someone I had gotten to know, someone who challenged me, someone who--dare I say it?--I trusted. Then, a variation on the typical response: "What?! You go to church there?!"

Disbelief followed, then a few deep breaths, a couple calm debates, and finally, my agreement to give it a chance. I read two of his books and am on the third. I listened to a couple of the church's sermon podcasts. I've been to two services there.

And that's exactly what I think--Rob Bell is from Mars, and Baptists are from Venus. That doesn't make one better than the other. Yeah, Bell and the church's other pastor, Shane Hipps, have made some statements that I definitely don't agree with, but they're nothing that is integral to my faith. To me, it seems like, for preaching, they have their own agenda and simply pull in a few verses to offer it weak support. But, crazy as I know it sounds, Baptists aren't right about everything, either. Bell's books have made some excellent points and I've found parts of them highly compelling. While I'm far more comfortable on my home planet, it's proven that the conditions on Mars are far more suited to human life than Venus. Imagine that--a habitat more welcoming than that of the Baptists? Who would've thought. Overall, I think both places have fascinating aspects and both have a specific role, and the members of each could learn a lot from each other about how to live and what to believe. Mars isn't for me, but I think I'll continue my weekly interplanetary travel for the next month just to remember the significance of my unintentional dismount.

My advice to the world:

If you're even the tiniest bit of a neat freak, never get a white coffee maker.

White coffee pot + brown coffee = seeing how dirty the coffee pot REALLY is and having to obsessively clean it.

Welcome back?

It seem that whenever I return to school after being away for an extended period of time, I have a strange series of misfortunes (see http://furtherin2009.blogspot.com/2010/01/return-day-1.html ). Today has been no exception.

I am back in GR…and I have both good and bad news. The good news is that I made it here safely. The bad news….well, there's quite a bit.

Once here, I stopped to check my mail before heading to my apartment. I greeted Stephanie, my suitemate from this past year, who was working in the mail room. She informed me that the power was out in my building for an undetermined amount of time and had been since Saturday. Normally, I wouldn't mind this too much, except tonight I'm supposed have friends over, bake brownies, watch movies, and make a tent out of sheets in my living room. Along with that, I don't regret my summer without car air conditioning, but it made for a terribly toasty drive here. I was looking forward to entering a building that would be at least slightly cooler, but it was actually worse.

I checked into my apartment and took about half an hour filling out the stupid RCI form that is annoying enough to ruin anyone's good mood. Upon turning it in to one of the RAs, I was secretly hoping he'd offer to help me bring everything in from my car. Unfortunately, with the wish of "Have fun unpacking everything from your car!", he resumed watching TV in the lounge. This left me to unload on my own through a lengthy process that went like this:

Step 1: walk from my apartment, at one end of the very dark hallway, to the stairs at the opposite end of the hall.

Step 2: Rummage through my car in an attempt to find the best items to evenly add up to the Maximum Carryable Load size (MCL). This was difficult, as I needed a free hand to open the door. It limited the use of my right arm only to things I could hang from my wrist or tuck under my upper arm.

Step 3: Haul MCL up the stairs, to the opposite end of the hall, and deposit in kitchen (the only place it would be out of the way of the furniture moving that is to come). (Side note: my apartment with its door open was quite literally the light at the end of a very dark tunnel. This made me laugh.)

Step 4: Take a bite of my granola bar, the only food I had to last the next seven hours.

Step 5: Repeat.

Approximate Average Load Time (AALT): 4 minutes.

In the midst of this process, I realized two things. One, I had no toilet paper, thus couldn't use the bathroom. Two, I left my coffee pot at home. The toilet paper issue can easily be solved, but the coffee pot…I'm pretty sure the world is going to end.

Today has been quite the adventure thus far. While frustrating, it's really quite humorous. And, if Tori ever returns my phone calls, I look forward to spending tonight with two wonderful people.

Air conditioning and Escalades

The air conditioning unit at my house quit working yesterday. It needs to be replaced. Anyone who has had this repair done knows it costs a fortune. It's one of those things that's extraordinarily expensive simply because people are willing to pay for it. Why are they willing to pay for it? Because they feel they need it.

Here's an excerpt from a conversation tonight:

Ethan: So did the air conditioner really break, Dad?

Dad: Yeah. That thing's gonna cost $(fill in the blank with absurdly high number) to replace. Can you believe that?

Me: Yep. They know people will pay for it. Why don't you just not replace it?

Ethan: Are you kidding? Caley, I'm sitting here sweating.

Me: So? You can deal with it. Write a book entitled The Summer Without Air Conditioning, then sell it at Borders where hundreds of thousands of rich Americans will buy it because of intrigue about the sheer horror of it.

Actually, even before yesterday, air conditioning had been on my mind a lot lately.

An idea started forming in my head while in Mexico, but I wasn't able to put it into words until I read it in a book. There's this thing called entitlement. Merriam Webster explains this as "a right to benefits specified especially by law or contract" or "belief that one is deserving or entitled to certain privileges."

What are you entitled to? I think we can all agree that that every person is entitled to the basic needs of life--food, water, shelter, etc. As Christians, if we believe that everyone is created in the image of God, it means everyone we encounter is entitled to respect and love. Jesus healed; I believe people are entitled to health. We're entitled to family and friendship. We're entitled to think and feel how we want. Unfortunately, sometimes this thing called sin gets in the way, sin that makes the world an unjust place, sin that separates us from the once-perfect communion we had with our Creator, each other, and the earth. Sin is the reason so many people are starving. Sin is the reason so many children are born HIV positive. Sin is the reason there are orphans. Sin is the reason people commit suicide. In Mexico, I encountered many of these issues. Staggering statistics were shared about the amounts of domestic violence, alcoholism, and suicide in the Yucatan.  I visited an orphanage. I listened to a group of men who spoke about their working conditions and how it is to raise a family there. I heard a human rights organization talk about the oppression of the Mayan people.

What about us as Americas? What are we entitled to? "Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." Life. That makes sense. Liberty--we have our Bill of Rights that states the freedoms our country gracious grants to us. The pursuit of happiness? This is where I believe things have gone very wrong.

In our pursuit of happiness, we've gained an incredible sense of entitlement that's nearly unfathomable. The list could be endless, but above all else, we believe we're entitled to physical comfort. In this category are spacious cars, running water with an adjustable temperature, plush couches, the perfect mattress, carpeting, bug spray, a good haircut, refrigeration, our own bedrooms, square footage, reliable plumbing, privacy, window screens, coffee, clothing for all occasions, interior décor, air freshener, contact lenses, music to suit our tastes, television, internet available everywhere, cleaning supplies, grocery stores, libraries, schools, transportation whenever we want, home security systems, variety and options, a routine, the newspaper…and, yes, air conditioning.

Do you see anything wrong with this? There's nothing wrong with many of these things, but the more we get, the more we "need." The more technology and the quality of life improves, the more we can't live without. Pretty soon, we're buying Escalades.

I was driving with my dad earlier today. We found ourselves stopped at a red light next to a black Cadillac Escalade. He commented on how nice it was. That, naturally, set me off on a rant about expensive cars and Oprah and why they both disgust me. The Escalade is one of the most coveted SUVs. The base price of the 2011 Escalade is rumored to be roughly $63,000. It gets 14 miles per gallon, or a maximum of 20 on highways.  People want them. People buy them. People love them. People take care of them. This is a CAR.  Why? Because they've worked hard for that $63,000 and they feel they've earned it.

How much do we spend on luxury? What would happen if we all gave up, or at least downgraded, our Escalades? I don't think we've all been called to a life of poverty. God has immensely blessed America and us as individuals, and I think to completely deny ourselves of those blessings would, in a way, be disrespectful. However, I think we're called, in turn, to use the resources we have to bless others, and I think this starts with giving up our sense of entitlement. Only then will we become clearly aware of how much we're blessed with.

The day I returned from Mexico, I decided on a challenge for myself this year: I will not use air conditioning in my car. Air conditioning isn't the point. The point is that whenever I get in my horribly warm car and start to sweat, I remember that I'm not entitled to much in my life. Somehow, miraculously, a lack of air conditioning has led to an indescribable amount of contentment--more than I've ever had in my life--an understanding of how much I have, an increased awe of God, and a greater care for others. It was hardly a sacrifice for me, the person who is always cold anyway, but it's amazing what a change in perspective it can bring when an option is taken away.

Try giving up something small that you take for granted, that many people feel entitled to. See what happens. 

Something to ponder

Since my return from Mexico, I've been struggling to verbalize precisely why the trip was so significant to me. Just a few minutes ago, I came across this blog post by Chip Huber, the Dean of Student Engagement at my school, and it really helped describe why I believe Mexico had such an impact. I found it to be pretty compelling.

Missing Zambia...and Why I Think Everyone Needs to GO...

Today is an interesting day for me...I woke up this morning thinking about a team of folks from my former school who were spending their first day in Zambia...this is the first trip that Wheaton Academy is taking where I'm not leading the trip, and it is the first year I won't be visiting sub-Saharan Africa since 2004...don't get me wrong, I am way, way thrilled that they are still going without me...in fact, that is the whole point, isn't it as a leader? But there is a real sadness that I'm not there with them, seeing old friends, playing soccer on dirt fields as the WORLD CUP goes on a couple countries below, and being moved again by the mixture of great need and great Kingdom work present in a nation and communities I've strangely fallen in love with...

A couple weeks ago I already started working on setting up dates to take students from my new campus environment back to Zambia and all that Africa has to offer...I can't imagine not going back, and I still deeply feel called to expose students and co-workers to life and the church and reality in this other part of the world...there are already plans in the works here at Cornerstone to host a big soccer event to help raise funds to purchase bednets that we can distribute next summer as we fight and help to prevent the deadly impact of malaria on families and children...and I've been left to wonder why I am still so consumed with taking people to meet others and see things that I know has great potential to make messy their lives that might be rather together and tidy in their current states...

Below is an excerpt from Palmer Chinchen's new book True Religion that speaks to the power of being deeply bothered when we experience things that produce real conflict in our lives are turned loose...it's a great summary piece of why I long to and will continue to take people to places different than their own worlds...to be disturbed and moved to response and in the process to become spiritually transformed...

"Welcome to hell," the European doctor greeted our medical team snidely at the entrance to the Lilongwe Hospital. Hell is what it was.

I had first visited hell a few years earlier when Boyd, a young man I knew in Lilongwe, was struck by a car while crossing the road at dusk.

Boyd's father showed up at my house in the dark and asked anxiously if! would drive him and his family to the hospital to find his son.

The stench was nauseating. Every part of the hospital was in some state of disrepair. Nothing appeared to have been painted in years. I watched the staff mop floors that remained curiously grimy.

We found Boyd on a dingy gurney in the hallway leading to the ER. He had a compound fracture; the bone protruded through the skin. His leg, his pants, and the gurney were all drenched in blood. He was still bleeding.

"Has he seen a doctor?" I asked.

An ER attendant spoke. "No, we are waiting for the doctor."

I walked into the ER to try to find help. There were no doctors, so I rounded up two interns and convinced them to bring Boyd into the ER to get the bleeding stopped and clean the puncture wound in his leg. They agreed, rolled him into the ER, and promised to look after him until the doctor arrived. I felt good about being helpful and headed home.

That was Friday night. Late Monday evening, Boyd's father was back at my door. "Boyd is in a lot of pain. Could you help me with some money for some pain medication?"

"Pain medication?" I was surprised. "Once a fracture is set, there should be no pain."

"The leg has not been set yet," his father replied.

What? Boyd lay there in the hospital for three days with a compound fracture, and no one had set it! I knew the orthopedic surgeon would not be in at night, so I waited until the morning and headed back to "hell" with several of my Malawian college students. We hunted the halls for an hour looking for the one orthopedic surgeon in the country and finally found him in an operating theater, teaching a class. He waved me in, and I told him about Boyd. He was unaware of the case and graciously told me to bring him.

We found Boyd, but none of the nurses could find a gurney to roll him to the operating room. So we picked up his bed, each taking a corner, and we carried him to the operating theater.

His leg had rotted. It took almost six months to heal. If there's a place in this world where people lie for days with gaping wounds—that's a place of hell on earth.

Bothered
I'll be honest. I write all of this with the intention of bothering you. I hope you will no longer be willing to ignore people who hurt.

Oppression, injustice, poverty, bigotry and abuse are real and present. But it doesn't have to be this way. God put you and me here to make this world a better place, a more beautiful place. When Jesus left, He asked that you and I continue to change and love the world. The mission and purpose of the local church was never intended to end at the edge of our community.

King Solomon writes about the heart of God: "Rescue the perishing; don't hesitate to step in and help. If you say, 'Hey, that's none of my business,' will that get you off the hook? Someone is watching you closely, you know–Someone not impressed with weak excuses."

So whatever the cost, go in the name of Jesus and love people who hurt. Tell them and show them that God has a better way, a more beautiful war, a life-giving way.

Conflict
Educators have discovered an interesting phenomenon: We learn best and comprehend more when our minds are disturbed. In other words, the more people are bothered by what they are being taught—because it is new or radically different and they disagree—then the more likely the information will change the way they think and live. The process of wrestling with difficult concepts makes them better thinkers and ultimately deeper people. The process even has a name—cognitive conflict (or disequilibration).

Jesus was brilliant at this. He masterfully used parables or illustrations to disturb those He taught.

Being disturbed is not just a good way to learn—it's necessary for transformation.

Jesus would always propose equilibration to people’s thinking by offering a better way to live, a more beautiful way to live, a more godly way to live. But He let them choose.

Diamonds
Spiritual transformation often happens in the moments of life that stun us. When we experience, watch or hear of something disturbing, it creates this cognitive conflict that can change the way we think and live.

You may already know how diamonds are formed. Carbon, which is just black dirt, is compressed by millions of pounds of pressure by the earth's weight. This extreme pressure and heat from the earth's core transform the carbon into something pure and beautiful. The greater the heat and pressure, the more pure (or clear) the diamond forms.

In much the same way, I'm convinced we are transformed through moments of spiritual conflict. Under the pressure of going globally and giving our lives away, we open ourselves to the possibility of God crafting something beautiful in our souls. He uses the pressure of the experience and the heat of the moment—sometimes literally—to transform us spiritually and make our lives a bit more beautiful.

We have two options. We can choose to stay and ignore. Or we can choose to go and see and be disturbed. One choice leads to a kind of death; the other leads to life and change and hope.

If you'd like to read more of Chip's blog, in which he writes much about missions and other spiritual matters, here's the link: http://chiphuber.blogspot.com/