Monday, July 26, 2010
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.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
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.
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