To Those Whose Speech is Vulgar

Dear Friends Who are Still Speaking to Me,

I've actually come up with a resolution this year, and I'd like to share it with you:

For 2018, I'm going to be more vulgar.

Wait (dammit), stay with me on this. For those who know me--or if my reputation has preceded me--you may be thinking a couple of different things.

"Is that actually possible? For Chandra to be more vulgar?"

and/or

"Is that such a good idea? For Chandra to be more vulgar?"

or even

"How is that a New Year's Resolution? For Chandra to be more vulgar?"

Well, hang on just a (damn) minute. "Vulgar" didn't always mean crude or offensive. It used to just mean "commonplace" or "of the masses." The Vulgate version of the Bible was written in Latin, a language of the masses (hence the word origin; EDIT: The Vulgate was the more commonly used Latin Bible, so that's why it entered the vernacular. Thanks, D. Hogue!). Latin is a "dead" language now, and most folks who can read the Bible in a Latin translation are fairly privileged/scholarly. But at one time, the language of the Vulgate would have been understandable to many (if not most) European folks. And though someone saying they know "Koine" Greek might sound impressive, using the modifier "Koine" is merely a way of distinguishing Classical Greek from the everyday Greek in which the New Testament was written. It too, just means "common."

So when I say my goal is to be more vulgar, I'm mostly just talking about this crazy endeavor I've undertaken to read the entire Protestant Bible in its original languages in one year. Yes, my goal is to read the Bible in those commonplace languages in which it was first written: Hebrew and (Koine) Greek.

I hesitated to announce this absurd plan to the masses (get it? har har har) because let's be honest: it's pretty much a brag. "Ooooooh, lookit meeeeee! I can read the Bible in the original languages! Oooooooh! I'm sooooooo impressive!" Brag, brag, brag.

I am not denying I am bad about bragging.

But in this case, I'm sharing for a few reasons, and you being impressed with me is not on the list. Okay, fine. It's at the bottom of the list. I admit it, okay? (dammit.)

Pretty high on the list is that I'd love prayer and encouragement. I'm in a really great Facebook group of like-minded individuals who have far more discipline, organizational skills, and vocabulary memorized than do I, so I've got great accountability. (And I am not fishing for complements--I know my strengths, and being disciplined, organized, or vocabulary-ized is none of them. I am [mostly] okay with that.) But I only know one or two of those folks personally, and from what I can tell, most of them are not "common" people. They are seminarians and scholars, not stay-at-home parents and engineers.

And that actually brings me to top of my list of what I'm hoping to accomplish here. I'd also love to pray for and encourage you: a loved one who is both commonplace and extraordinary. Because if I'm honest, most days I will read over the assigned passages in the original languages, puzzle through them as best I can, understand very little, and then read the passages again in English. Perhaps, by this time next year, the daily habit will have schooled me well in my Greek and Hebrew, and I'll understand more than ever. Maybe not. But I will have read some Bible passages, and (perhaps more importantly) will have had to ask for forgiveness and to forgive myself for every day that I didn't read. And even on those days I do accomplish the reading, I will also have to repent of the desire to brag about how smart I am. Each and every day, I will need to be forgiven of forgetting that being a seminarian does not make me special. Daily, I will need reminders that I am a common person who is loved by a transcendent God. Attempting this resolution means that each day of 2018 I will have had to bring myself--not just my vulgar tongue, but my truly vulgar heart--to the feet of the living word, coming away transformed.

And that's what I want for all of us. Those of us who claim Christ, I want us--his beloved bride--to know Jesus better. Those of you that I know and love who aren't Christ-followers, I want you to know him better, too, so that you can make truly informed decisions about who he says he is and what that means for you. And for most of the folks who read this, that probably won't mean reading the Bible in the original languages. But I hope you can find some "vulgar" way to listen to God daily. Maybe it will mean committing to daily reading of the written scriptures in your first language. Maybe it will look like regularly listening to a podcast with commonplace, sometimes vulgar folks talking about Jesus. Perhaps you'll listen to sermons online. Maybe you'll listen to music from artists who are considered vulgar because they have the audacity to talk about real life and how messy things can get when we seek to rely on the Holy Spirit. Maybe you'll talk with folks on social media who, like myself, could use a little taming of their tongues, but are desperate to keep their hearts aflame. Perhaps you'll even spend more time talking to (and about) Jesus like the Psalmist, the Apostle Paul, Solomon, and others did--passionately, "earthily," and honestly.

I hope so. Let's be vulgar this year, friends.

Let us, in our everyday lives, seek that extraordinary one who came to this commonplace earth, had rough, calloused hands, and lived his entire life without indoor plumbing or washing machines.

Let us seek those vulgar ones who Christ came to save--the tax collectors, prostitutes, and sailors with whom he felt far more comfortable than the religious scholars of the day.

Let us be honest about our finite, needy condition, and find that God has come to dwell with us in mercy and in truth--not in spite of our vulgarity, but because of it.

From one sinner to another (damn!),
Chandra

To Those Who Want to Learn More

Dear Friends,

Many of my majority culture friends (and yes, I share majority culture privilege in some ways, too, but I also have some minority experiences) are asking, in the aftermath of the election, “How do I help?” I hear your hearts. I see your earnestness. And I believe you can help, can be a force for change. I believe you can do it.

But you might not like the answer as to how.

The election has revealed what’s been there all along: we have a race problem. I’ll say it again: We. Have. A. Race. Problem.

If that sentence makes you uncomfortable, good. This is not an easy topic. If that sentence makes you mad, use it. Ask Jesus--Immanuel--God With Us--to cleanse that anger of sin, and then use it for change. For the changing of your heart foremost. 

And if that sentence makes you say, “No, we don’t have a race problem!” then this post is not for you. This post is for brothers and sisters who are willing to speak this fundamental truth—that our country was founded on the sin of oppressing the vulnerable, and that those practices continue today. At every level, from individual to structural, vulnerable people are oppressed, marginalized, and hurt. If you disagree with that statement, then let us disagree graciously with one another and remain friends. 

But if you are starting to see the vulnerable around you, if you are becoming aware of the oppressed, the marginalized, the hurt and the invisible in our society, if you are becoming aware of your majority culture privilege, welcome. God is at work in you. Because he’s seen those folks--those human beings--all along. And now you that you see the brokenness, there’s no way back to blissful ignorance. There’s no way provided in the gospel for ignoring the hard truths and going backwards.

But does it seem impossible to move forward? Does it seem that as soon as you realize that we have a race problem, then you realize you’re part of that problem, and then when you try to solve that problem, you can't? That’s frustrating. That's disheartening. That's exhausting. And it's especially hard when it is the very people you'd like to serve that are telling you "no."

Would you like to know why you’re being told no? 

Yes, you'd like to know? 

Are you sure?

"No" is so often the answer for several reasons. Some of them are good reasons, some of them are bad, and some just are. But there are real reasons behind why your well-meaning efforts may not be helpful, may be met with resistance, and may drive wedges further.

Because the "yes" that God is asking of you now might be the worst kind of (in)action imaginable in our dominant culture: listening and lamenting.

I'll say it again. Listening and lamenting. 

“No,” you say, “You don’t get it. I want to DO something. Take action. Take a stand. Stop injustice in its tracks.” I say, "Wonderful! Good for you, but YOU don’t get it." I mean this literally. You do not get "it," that "it" being the depth and the complexity of the problem. If you aren’t willing to listen and lament, you truly cannot understand the minority experience and what needs to change. 

Yes, there is a time for action. Yes, that time is now. But no, brown folk don’t need a “white savior.” No, women don’t need a man to explain how we can work together to fix the problem. No, oppressed minority groups do not need the majority to lead them to victory as though the only way to win is through majority culture leadership. You, dear friend, you who are so passionately asking, “How do I help?” by your truly humble question, prove that you want to learn. You also prove that you shouldn’t be arguing with people when they answer you. Because you don't know. When you are told to listen and lament, then, do it. Do. It.

I told you the answer might not be something you wanted to hear. And yes, there are actions to be done, stands to be made, and truth to be shared. But until you can understand the helplessness that a minority of any kind feels, day in and day out, you won’t know how to help. Until you can listen and lament, your actions will be unhelpful, your stands will be awkward, and your truth will be biased.

Actually, even after you listen, you’re still going to mess it up sometimes. That’s the message of the gospel—that we’re all broken people who need a savior to restore and reconcile us to himself and one another. But the odds are much better for your actions to succeed if you educate yourself first. The chances will be much better that your stand will make a difference, and that your truth will be heard and taken to heart by others.

Still mad? Good. Still uncomfortable? Excellent. Still frustrated? Fantastic. Now sit with that. Sit in it. Ask God about it. Cry out to him about it, like the Psalmist did. Not just because it’s good for you (though it certainly is), but also because in this work of listening and lamenting, you are joining the work that is already being done by brothers and sisters around the country. You are joining the cries of kidnapped men, women, and children that were in horrific conditions during the Middle Passage and in chattel slavery. You are weeping along with immigrants who have paid life savings and risked drowning, starvation, suffocation, and being shamed, all to leave behind everything familiar. When you scream aloud with women who have been sexually harassed, abused, objectified and debased, you are joining the Holy Spirit and even the entire earth in groaning and pleading for the coming justice of the King. When you are willing to not just stand with others, but actually helplessly lie down in the street with those who are most vulnerable, then you are emulating Jesus and the sacrifices he made to dwell among us. Then you will receive greater understanding.

Because if you don’t understand at all the misery, vulnerability, and plight of human beings that I just described above, if you think it’s really not that bad, that the stories are inaccurate and biased, and if you feel the need to say “yeah, but—” then you are not ready for action. And nobody wants to hear that. I know, I don't want to hear that. I don't want to sit and wait on the Lord. But we all have to do it at one time or another, so why not now? Enter into this Advent season willing to listen and lament. Willing to wait on Jesus to arrive in unexpected and unheralded ways. 

You may need to have some concrete steps to learning how to listen and lament, and I get it. I'm that way, too. So read Prophetic Lament by Soong-Chan Rah. Heck, just read the book of Lamentations in the Bible. Read The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness by Michelle Alexander. Read this brother's blog post (with an open mind) on Ferguson: Why "Hands Up, Don't Shoot" Still Matters. Visit the National African-American Museum at the Smithsonian, or the Civil Rights museums in cities like Memphis, Birmingham, Atlanta. Watch Do The Right Thing, 12 Years a Slave, or A Time to Kill. And if you want to know more about the immigrant experience, the LGBT experience, women's experience, or any of a number of minority experiences, stories aren't hard to find. As my good friend Jemar would say, "Google it. Google. It." People are willing to share, but let them do so on their own terms. 

We are all created in the image of God, and what a painful, wonderful blessing it is to listen to each others' stories, lament with one another, and wait on the Lord. 

Moving into God's presence,

A Fellow Image-Bearer

To Those Who Want to Do More

Dear Friends,

I've been asked to compile a series of tweets I recently did about how a majority culture person can, once they've started to feel some of the pain of minority folks' stories, move past inevitable shame into making a difference. Because my heart breaks for my friends who have started to see their own racism and now feel so helpless, like their majority status keeps them continually complicit in injustices, and that they can't help but be oppressors. I do not believe that is so. Quite the opposite. I believe that majority culture folks can be powerful advocates for the Other, leveraging their privilege for the good of others, to the glory of God and the growth of the Kingdom.

When Jesus says, "to whom much is given, of him much will be required," he didn't mean that privileged people will be required to feel much shame and paralyzing guilt. That's not the gospel. The gospel is repenting of sins--personal, corporate, cultural--and then acting on those convictions, following the Holy Spirit in the work he is doing in people's lives and the systems of the world. Shame just wraps us up in ourselves and satan's schemes.

So let me first off all say, thank you, King Jesus. None of us, without common grace, without the touch of the Holy Spirit on sinful minds, realize any of our sins and wrong attitudes, much less do anything to change them. This is Jesus' work. That truth is simultaneously a huge challenge, because God is so very perfect and holy, and also a huge relief. Because dredging change up in ourselves is not what the Holy Spirit is about. He's about showing himself mighty in the feeble work of his children.

Second, let me make it clear that I, too, am racist. I have blogged about this before. I was raised by a black man, but I still find myself shying away from unfamiliar black men in most circumstances. I am working on this. The Holy Spirit is working on this in me. I am seeking to have the lies of the media/culture be replaced by the truths of God. I am repenting and actively trying to change the way I look at others. I am not writing this post (nor was I writing those tweets) to people who aren't interested in racial reconciliation. This isn't supposed to be a post guilting you into confessing racism and changing everything. It's supposed to be a post to encourage already like-minded folks who desire racial reconciliation but don't know where to start. So if those tweets or this post grieve you, I apologize, and hope you can bear with me.

Thirdly, there is something important to being willing to sit in feelings of shame and helplessness. That is actually part of the journey in identifying with the minority. "Triumphalism" of which the majority culture church is often guilty means wanting to move past the bad things without lingering. To merely slap a "Come Lord Jesus" on things as a band-aid, as if we're not in the here-and-not-yet, as if God himself doesn't weep and mourn and lament and understand what it means to be truly ashamed and helpless. Cry out "How Long, O Lord?" like the Psalmists did. Please don't jump past the grief, the wrestling, the muck and mire of the weight of what sinful people can do to each other because of what we think about each other. I know it sounds terrifying, but trust that if God leads you in sinking down into the grief, he will meet you at the bottom, where he has condescended to dwell with us helpless creatures.

Having said that, finally, let me say that it is true that we who believe in Jesus do not weep as those without hope. We know Jesus will make all things right someday. We know he's at work even now. And the crazy, absurd miracle is that we get to be part of that. We get to fight to see the imago dei in each person as we have our eyes recalibrated to see as Jesus sees. We get to do the good work of reconciliation between humans because God has done the great work of reconciliation between humanity and himself.

So here are some ideas to move past shame. Some ideas for little next steps that just might a big difference. And please, have grace for yourself, friends. You will mess up. We all do. You will say awkward things and hurt people. I think it's better to do that in good faith, and to learn, and grow, then to say nothing at all. Find friends who can help you understand. Other bridge builders. Minorities who aren't so exhausted just by existing in a majority culture that they can't explain things kindly and patiently (and over and over again). Let humility and grace guide you, not thinking about what you think is "right" or about your "rights." Believe that God is big enough to guard the truth in your heart. Remember that it's not about our rights, it's about the rights that Jesus laid down for us, so that we could be made right with him and each other. We're all in need of repentance and we're all in need of renewal. Praise God that he's willing to help us walk through both.

Don't traffic in stereotypes, but you can find good ones (or generalizations about what is hurtful/helpful) and learn more about where they come from. Find people who defy those stereotypes from all walks of life, and learn more about their stories. And you can also apply this to Native Americans, to women, to whatever minority it is that God is drawing you toward.

So here are the tweets, with a little more explanation in parenthesis. Some of the explanations are long. Yeah, there's a reason that tweets are limited to 140 characters...


Idea to move past shame: say thanks to black folks in service professions, w/ respect like for white servers. See sacrifice & imago dei.
(Sometimes we have to work harder to be nice to people who aren't like us. It's a fact of life. If you aren't kind to any folks who bring your food, take your trash, and watch your kids, then that's another discussion!)


Idea to move past shame: listen to black musicians-not w/cultural appropriation but w/joy, as w/ white musicians. See gifts & imago dei.
(I was raised on Motown. It's hard not to appreciate and understand some of the issues that a culture experiences when you're listening to music being made by folks in that culture.)


Idea to move past shame: admire black sisters--fab. hair texture (DON'T PET), leadership, etc. as w/ white women. See beauty & imago dei.
(But seriously. DO. NOT. PET.)


Idea to move past shame: sit next to a black person in a drs' waiting room. Don't assume he/she wants to mug you. See needs & imago dei.
(Okay. This one caused some controversy on FB. Yes, I truly apologize for the snark. Perhaps what would have been better would have been to say, "Prove that you don't assume he/she wants to mug you. Break stereotypes on both sides.")


Idea to move past shame: cheer black folks & don't act surprised at successes--celebrate like w/ white folks. See contributions & imago dei.
(It's the "don't act surprised" that keeps this from becoming a microaggression--from becoming awkward and hurtful. What's surprising is when a person of color defeats all kinda crazy odds to get the recognition that his or her accomplishments deserve. But it is not surprising that a POC is actually smart, or talented in something other than sports, or is articulate, or funny, or hardworking. That's God's work in each of us, and we should be looking for it in others.)


Idea to move past shame: buy black art. Explore diff. textures, colors, styles. Display like you would white art. See beauty & imago dei.
(Again, not as cultural appropriation, but as fair representation. There are some amazing black artists out there, who just don't get as much exposure/don't have as great a network as do their majority culture peers.)


Idea to move past shame: find black leaders to place yourself under. Respect/serve as you would white leaders. See strength & imago dei.
(Anybody remember the #DearWhitePastor hashtag from awhile back? POC sharing what they wish white head pastors would know/do? This was my response. Don't just hire a token black person on your staff. Find a way to make them a leader. Maybe even the new head pastor...)


Idea to move past shame: give black dolls/action figures/books to your kids. Play w/ as you would white toys. See reality & imago dei.
(I was the only kid in small-town New Mexico with an Orange Blossom doll [Strawberry Shortcake's black sidekick]. But it was important that my toys reflected reality--that not everyone is white. What with characters like Doc McStuffins, Tiana [The Frog Prince], and Keena Ford [books], along with a spate of new black superheroes, you don't even have to settle for the sidekick anymore.)


Idea to move past shame: invite black friends to meal, calmly & winsomely. Welcome as you would white friends. See uniqueness & imago dei.
(I said "calmly and winsomely" because there is nothing a minority loves more than being fawned over and lovingly harassed by well-meaning people who are SO FLIPPING EXCITED TO SEE A MINORITY THAT THEY CAN BE FRIENDS WITH and maybe also one of the first minorities they've seen in awhile. So don't make a big deal out of it. See their unique cultural needs, but perhaps more importantly, their unique personal needs. Try to know that specific person and how he or she communicates, what he or she feels welcomed by, etc. Which is different for different people, not even just different types of people. And if you got weird and overly clingy, apologize, and keep trying. I know that's a lot to ask, but it's also a lot to ask of someone else to come with you for a meal when you're obviously crazy. :) I think we're all just hoping we are each other's kind of crazy, and that true, deep friendship can come out of that.)


Idea to move past shame: support black campus ministers. Ask about ministry as you would white campus minister. See passion & imago dei.
(Or black non-profits, if that's more your speed. I'm speaking to a mostly Christian audience here, but the point is to get excited about what a person of color is doing, to find out what they are passionate about and hop on board.)


Idea to move past shame: tell black girl she's beautiful & mean it. Celebrate her value as you would white girl. See mind & imago dei.
(Black girls need to hear they are beautiful, inside and out. Because I'm not even tryna deny that they get fed a lot of lies both from the majority and minority cultures--especially hardcore rap. So would you tell a white girl she looked lovely in a similar situation? Then tell that mocha beauty, too. Would you praise a white girl for her grades? Then please do say something to a sista. Would you complement white parents about the way their daughter acted? Then don't be weird about it, but let the black family know, too.)


Idea to move past shame: sit next to black colleagues; showcase ideas. Partner with as you would white colleagues. See talents & imago dei.
(It really is good stewardship when you, as a majority culture person, have the listening ear of colleagues and can point out other coworkers who might get lost in the shuffle. It really is a work of the Holy Spirit to foster humility for us to be able to intentionally partner with folks who may not get the attention or resources we might have. Don't feel guilty that you got that promotion. Use it to raise up other leaders. Don't feel ashamed that you had better educational opportunities growing up. Utilize your higher income to make a difference in a child's life. Grieve the uneven playing field, repent if you weren't aware it existed, and then do something about it.)


Idea to move past shame: hold door for elderly black folks. Defer as you would for white elderly folks. See wisdom & imago dei.
(I know this is partly cultural, and may seem like a no-brainer, but I have two thoughts: 1) I truly believe we are programmed by society to not see those we value less. So we don't pay attention to the elderly like we should, and we don't respect folks with dark skin like they deserve. 2) It's triply-sad when you factor in that in the South, at least, many elderly black men with grey hair are old enough to have been called "boy" by white children and many elderly black women with grey hair remember a time when the rape of a black woman was rather standard and overlooked. So go out of your way, friends. Show a fellow human being some kindness, where a little will go an especially long way.)


Idea to move past shame: appreciate black history makers. Study as you would white history makers. See valuable contributions & imago dei.
(Our history books are incredibly biased, which is a shame not only for race relations, but just for amazing stories about amazing people which don't get told in the majority culture. Take advantage of Black History Month or new books which feature POC history-makers. Dive in.)


Idea to move past shame: make eye contact with young black man, nod/say hi. Engage as you would young white man. See dreams & imago dei.
(I know this is hard. But chances are, anyone you meet around town is not a "thug," or if they are, they don't really care what you're up to. If it's a majority culture public area in the middle of the day, you're probably safe. Try to remember that they are just tryna get where they're going, too. And you breaking that stereotype--proving you're not afraid or disdainful--could mean a lot to that young black man. Your nod/hello could actually speak to the fact that you believe his life matters. If nothing else, being polite is a reasonable thing to do.)


Idea to move past shame: read black poetry with an open mind. Engage as you would white poetry. See heart cries & imago dei of authors.
(Especially if art isn't your thing, poetry---and this includes rap lyrics--can really open your eyes to another person's perspective. Read this poem. Try some Lecrae lyrics. My go-to is Langston Hughes, every time. Maya Angelou, all day long.)


Idea to move past shame: see little black boy playing & don't shy away in fear. Engage as you would little white boy. See joy & imago dei.
(The little boy in the "Dinosaurs in the Hood" poem above? The one playing with plastic dinosaurs and dreaming big dreams? He exists. And his life matters because he was made in the image of God. And so he is beautiful, even though he may seem older than he really is, or more aggressive because of our cultural lenses. I want to really see him, and to see him thrive.) 

And an idea to move past shame, which I didn't tweet before but probably should have, is to see your own imago dei, and rejoice in how every little move towards Jesus lets your light shine through a little more clearly. Be kind to yourself as you're trying to be kind to others. See your heart transformed by Jesus, the ultimate imager of God.

Moving past shame,
A Fellow Image-Bearer.

Free Shipping Fridays: A Hunger for Reconciliation

Dear Readers,

I'm out of clever analogies and ways of saying, "here are really great articles that I want to 'send' to you." So, here are really great articles that I want to "send" to you.... 

People are often surprised to discover that our family is in the PCA (Presbyterian Church in America) denomination. They are even more surprised to discover that we're happy about that. No church/denomination is a perfect fit, but we love the devotion to the Word and prayer, emphasis on the family, and desire for reconciliation that is taught in the PCA. The last one--reconciliation--is tricky. There's a history there. But being part of a multi-ethnic church--with a black head pastor--in Jackson, MS--is not something I would trade for any of my lesser preferences possibly being met. The systemic problems of racism in our country are once again being made more known to the dominant culture. And I'm proud to say, the PCA is doing some of the work necessary to see Gospel reconciliation happen.

Dr. Sean Lucas, explaining some recent events and responses:

http://byfaithonline.com/grace-race-and-the-pca/


Pablo Mazariegos, sharing about being neither black nor white, but really Other:

http://www.newcityeastlake.com/news/2015/9/24/what-i-experienced-at-racial-reconciliation-conference


Michelle Higgins, reminding the church of the unique mission of Gospel reconciliation:

https://thehigginsloftins.wordpress.com/2014/09/03/the-charge-resounding-still/


And Jemar Tisby, asking tough questions about what true reconciliation should look like:

http://www.christianitytoday.com/le/2015/fall/multi-cultural-conundrum.html


Enjoy. Be blessed. Disagree, discuss, and find God in the asking, friends. All of these authors are powerful writers, and brothers and sisters who help me in my own process of discernment and growth in this area.

To A Fellow Bibliophile

Dear Carmen,  

In the middle of your very poignant piece about the grace and power of the Lord as shown through water, another thought captured my attention.  When surveying your flooded office—but thankfully dry bookshelves, you “reflected on the truth that had the ruptured pipe ruined them all, the only volumes that would have survived would have been the ones I’ve given away over the years.”  Wow.  I had to stop and let that sink in for a minute.

It’s such a clear statement about the nature of stewardship, of community, and of faith.  Because I’m also such a bibliophile, I find myself constantly in the middle of two extremes: hoarding books, and giving them away.  I collect books like my preschooler collects shiny things: with indiscriminate delight and no concern for the space requirements.  Yet I have also been known to give away copies of Ruth Haley Barton’s An Invitation to Solitude and Silence like they’re candy.   In my office are two shelves- one for my growing collection, and one for those meant to be given away. 

            I share your shudder at the thought of all my books being ruined.  Yet I realize that in some ways, it is not the tangible book itself (though I love the heft of a good book) but rather, the ideas, experiences and knowledge that the book represents and contains.  It is indeed the rampant highlighting in grad school textbooks (my husband sardonically suggests just highlighting the entire page) and the various notes and symbols scribbled in the margins.  It is the warm thought of the friend who first recommended or gave the book to me.  It is the connection I feel with the authors, both in our similarities and in our differences.  And it is the (sometimes) invisible community built around that particular book, a community of readers that I have the privilege to help expand.  I have let some precious volumes go to new homes because I felt that book was just right for that person in their current experiences.  I once accidentally gave away a copy of a treasured book with very personal notes in the margins, only to discover a friendship strengthened by my unwitting vulnerability.  I also loan out books with the faith that they will either be returned eventually, or be better loved by someone else.  Your article has helped me to realize how the principle of stewardship plays out through my library: I collect books to be able to give them away, so as to further community and to advance ideas and the Kingdom of God. 

            Given my career in campus ministry, the majority of my office books are specifically addressing Christian faith and practice.  Yet it is not merely the theological concepts in those books that inspire me, it is the lives lived as shown in their pages.  It is Eugene Peterson’s A Long Obedience in the Same Direction, Mike Schutt’s heart for Redeeming Law, and Tom Lin’s journey of Losing Face and Finding Grace.  It is that Invitation to Solitude and Silence of Ruth Haley Barton’s, and the Unshakable Foundations upon which Norman Geisler and Pete Bocchino stand.  It is learning to share the joy of Sundee Tucker Frazier and boldly Check All That Apply.  And as your article has helped me to see, it is those books that are no longer upon my shelf—those of which I have been willing to let go—that perhaps bless me the most.  In my bookshelves, I see a microcosm of the community with which God has blessed me over the years.  No matter what powerful provision of water may come to my bookshelves, the legacy and power of those books (and those friends) lives on.  And despite the fact that friends move away, or pass on, or just borrow books never to be returned, that community continues.  Praise be to God for that. 

Gratefully,

Chandra ("Hello, my name is Chandra, and I'm addicted to books." "Hello, Chandra")

     

To Clinton, Mississippi

Dear Clinton,

I'm sorry I dismissed you, in high urban snobbery, as being a suburb that we didn't want to live in. I'm sorry I thought Vicksburg, in all its urban chic, would be the place we'd want to live. (It isn't, and we don't.) Turns out Vicksburg is neither the bustling metropolis I had hoped for (ha!) nor is it even a comfortable suburb with all the amenities, but rather an aged woman snoozing on a front porch in widow's weeds while the floorboards decay around her.

Ah, yes--drama. Nothing like a day inside the car to increase my sense of hyperbole. But, I digress.

So, Clinton--I understand now why most of the lab folks like to call you home. Spookily enough, someone took our hometown, cloned it, doubled its size, and then plopped it down in Mississippi... and there you are. Possibly our future home for quite awhile. So it's time to roll up our sleeves, grab a rake & hoe, and get back to our roots.

Dear Clinton Visitor's Center,

What a first impression! You had friendly volunteers, fun crafts, interesting displays and local folks pickin' & grinnin' at one of the Olde Time Music Jam Sessions--bluegrass as it's meant to be! It will be hard to leave our home here in Atlanta, but if we move to Clinton, I know we can make a new home here.

Dear Clinton School District,

You group all your schools by age, not location--just like our hometown. I love that. I love that the kids are together all through their elementary and secondary years, and especially that there isn't a poor school on the other side of the tracks across from the rich school. Which all-too-often translates into a black school and a white school, when all's said and done. I love knowing that Annabel's classmates would come from a variety of backgrounds, ethnicities, socio-economic status, educational backgrounds, etc. (It may be too much to hope for more variety of political leanings, but we'll see.) Not utopia, and there are certainly cliques, but it's a great start.

And the High School colors are red, black & white? They're not the Rams (rather, the Arrows, so I'm curious what the mascot looks like!), but it's still a wild coincidence...

Dear cups (an espresso cafe'),

Hallelujah! There's hope! You're a chain, and your espresso machines are set to automatic, much to Kennan's disappointment. BUT--you well understand that THERE IS NO X IN ESPRESSO and I'll forgive your whipped cream cans for the fact that you do have high chairs (and I'm guessing, though I didn't check, a changing table in the bathroom). Even the best coffee shop in the world--still always first in our hearts--doesn't have that. Ahem.

So I could spend many a day enjoying your free wifi and quirky atmosphere. Meanwhile, Kennan has informed me that he's going to ask the baristas at Octane to teach him their ways... which will require, at some point, the purchase of an espresso machine that is not set to automatic. I've told him that is fine as long as I get my digital SLR and time with Kate & Bobbi Jo to learn the secrets of their ways. But I apologize for putting an innocent coffee shop in the middle of friendly marital negotiations.

We'll be back, little coffee shop! I hope you have frequent customer cards.

Dear Pentimento,

Fabulous! I love used book stores, and am quite enjoying my Greg Bear find, thank you. I love the story behind your name, the framed quotes scattered about the place, the squooshy arm chairs, and even the eerie cat curled up on one of those arm chairs (I suspected taxidermy, but was too afraid to ask).

Nice Owner Lady, it was so great to meet you and talk about books and churches and babies and art and towns (large & small) and all sorts of other good things. Thank you for your friendly manner and interest. And thank you for being yet another awesome example of racial reconciliation as it is clear that your cross-cultural friendship with the Nice Lady from Chicago is both real and deep. I hope I get to see you again soon and buy more books that I don't quite need!

Dear Newk's Express Cafe,

You're a fun little chain. Your chicken gumbo was fabulous, I thoroughly enjoyed the shrimp po'boy, and maybe someday I'll get up the nerve to order the pimento cheese sandwich. Maybe.

Dear Mississippi College,

You look nice. I hope I get to meet students and faculty on your hallowed grounds and really dig into their lives and be a help to them, even if just volunteering a few hours a week. I am impressed that although your sign proudly proclaims that you are "STILL UNDER BAPTIST CONTROL," you were the first co-ed college in America to grant degrees to women. "STILL UNDER BAPTIST CONTROL," really? That cracks me up. Back to our roots, indeed.

Dear Lily's Asian Emporium,

Awesome. If we move to Clinton, it's nice to know that we can still get our fish sauce and curry paste. And the fact that your Nice Owner Lady was born and raised in the Hunan Province, relocated to Clinton (culture shock!), then went to Singapore but decided to move back, says something about Clinton as a community.

Dear Dave Ramsey,

Yes, you were in Clinton, MS. You followed us there. And although you can be harsh and I don't necessarily agree with your political leanings (nor some of your theology), I do see that we don't need to run out and buy a house just because Kennan will finally have the decent salary he deserves. We will save up for a good down payment, dagnabbity. But the apartment complexes in Clinton have tested my resolve for sure. I guess the college students don't mind a little funk and there just aren't enough young professionals to warrant a higher level of apartments. Sigh.

Well, God will provide something that Annabel can crawl around in without being attacked by bugs or rodents too much and hopefully we'll get to know our neighbors.

Dear Kennan Crane,

You were in Clinton, MS, and thus Annabel and I were, too. We love you, and we're proud of you, and since home is where the heart is, we'll make a home with you wherever we end up!

I still want my digital SLR out of your first paycheck.

Love,

(the future) Mrs. Dr. Kennan Crane

Keeping the Faith

Jesus didn't promise sunshine and kittehs. Following him means taking up one's cross daily, and in a sin-stricken world at that. Thankfully, there are companions along the way--family, friends, and websites.

What? Did I just say "websites"?

Oh, did I. The past year has been (as my good friend and coworker Tony would say) a "Praise the Lord/ Lord have Mercy" rollercoaster. Ups and downs. We've had the joy of sharing in celebrating a dear sister (both literally and in the family-of-Christ sense) marrying a wonderful brother. The pain of losing of losing our first child. The overwhelming, chance-of-a-lifetime, wonderful trip to Asia to celebrate the Hwangs' wedding once again, to attend another wedding, and to finally meet up with my birth family. The struggles and frustrations and joys and pressures of our jobs and school. The fear of wondering if Dad Garrett had prostate cancer (he doesn't) and the fear of finding out that Dad Crane was in need of a heart transplant (keep reading). Sharing with so many the joys of marriages and births and careers and adoptions and graduations, and sharing with far too many the grief of deaths and illness and depression and abuse and theological despair.

Through it all, we've clung to our faith in Christ Jesus. How, you ask? (Let's pretend you did ask, okay?)

As I said, through websites. Okay, the primary (and easy) answer, is "by grace." By the gracious, constant presence and protection of the triune God. By community and sharing and crying and counseling and medicines (shocking!) and prayer and reading of the Word (sigh... far too little on those last two!) and pursuing spiritual disciplines and sheer stubborn God-given determination.

How else would we have gotten through the past couple of weeks, in which we traveled to four different cities (Denver/Colorado Springs, Raleigh-Durham, DC, and Houston/Galveston); celebrated/mourned on Mother's Day, pushed through what would have been the due date, attended a conference, freaked out/rejoiced in a donor heart becoming available for Dad Crane, celebrated/freaked out about the graduation (and thus departure) of so many fabulous students, and celebrated Mom Garrett's birthday, all in the same two days?

How? (Sorry, I'm getting there!) By a (growing) understanding of our sinfulness and God's holiness, a desire to see redemption...

... and a weird sense of humor. So I present, for your reading/clicking pleasure, sites that help me examine my faith, laugh at my failings, and praise God for loving us all anyway:

The character who does Bible scenes out of Legos (you have to see it to believe it!) appears not to be a Christian, but in some ways, I'd say he appreciates the Bible more than a lot of Christians I know (probably me included). He does have something of an agenda, though, which is evident in some of his interpretations of the passages. And there's some non-G rated stuff... but that's the Bible for you!

I mentioned the classic, sacrelicious Lark News in a previous post. My new, fabulous find (thanks to Tim and others for showing me the way) is all about Stuff Christians Like. Whoo hoo hoo hoo hoo! Wait. I do that. And that. Oh, and I do that, too! Ouch.

I've also stumbled upon the Wittenburg Door. Yes, they know they spelled it wrong. (No, I didn't know.) It's similar to Lark News, so when I find that I haven't procrastinated quite enough for the day, I head there. Particularly fabulous was the... interview... with NT Wright. (And no, I'm not quite sure if the entire thing is made up or not! Sheesh. Must I admit all my ignorance, all in one post? What will I do in further posts? Make sense?)

I also mentioned Snopes in that previous post. Specifically, if I need to feel superior about how intelligent I am (mostly after I go to the other websites and find that I don't get most of the jokes), I visit the Religion page, or the Glurge Gallery.

There are also several good sites (with less satire, more theological discussions, but still a sense of humor) that Team Redd could no doubt direct you to, that I've visited from time to time. When I really want to stretch myself, though, I go to a website for the "satirical church service for the thinking masses." It's basically a comedy routine that mocks the Western Evangelical church stereotype. These folks are not Christians, and I doubt they've ever met a Christian they liked, much less respected. While I could probably never attend a "service" (show), because even my irreverent self would probably get offended and "prove" their point that Christians are fun-haters, the website sure makes me think. About what I take for granted, what I practice and preach, and where I get distracted from Jesus and focus too much on me and "my" church.

And when I really need to get back to basics, I go here. Because I'm oh-so-pious... and a little bit of a tech geek.

Praise the Lord... Lord have Mercy!

How to be Difficult...

... it's worked for me, anyway!

Organize furniture so it is NOT feng shui.

Shoot the cats with the spray bottle.

Not answer the cell phone.

Curse.

Pick fights with Georgia fans.

Change the lyrics to praise songs that are theologically questionable. Sing loudly.

Multi-task.

Continue drinking from a Nalgene bottle.

Hit the snooze button. Several times.

Run 5-15 minutes late. For EVERYTHING.

Talk incessantly about things like ICHC, Stargate, and the cats.

Start reading 5 books at once but never finish any of them.

Take 5 big, heavy books on a trip. Read none of them.

Get weird urges to vacuum at 3 AM.

Support Obama just to spite Clinton.

Keep a blog. Pout if no one reads it. Repeat.

No, Really.

I voted for Ron Paul in the Primaries.

I can eat an entire jar of pickles in one sitting.

I love small dogs that bark a lot.

My favorite colors are red and black.

I wish I lived in Texas.

I know all the words to "Enter Sandman."

My secret ambition is to meet Janet Reno.

I've decided to become a nun.

I once caught a fish this big...

I think David Hasselhoff is hot.

My cat likes to eat peanut butter.

My favorite magazine is Star.

I've been calm and obedient since 1978.

Yes, Happy April Fools' Day! You decide which ones are true.

Contrasts

I'm attempting a deep, meaningful, artistically chiasmistic post, so bear with me. Hee hee hee.

Chinese New Year:
a new beginning
enjoying dumplings and red envelopes
a time of well-wishing
a hopeful reprieve from bad luck and
death... Lent
the suffering and death of a King
a season of repentance
giving up good things with joy
a new creation:
Easter.

Happy Year of the Rat, friends! May the next >40 days bring you and yours a season of deep reflection and the true hope of being buried and resurrected with Christ Jesus our Lord.

Where to Start?

Aw, shucks. Sam linked us off his blog, and here I haven't posted in months. Let's not discuss how long it's been since Kennan posted.

So I now return, with gusto, in the name of international friendships and recycling!

If you are expecting anything epic (either in meaningfulness or length), this post may disappoint you.

If, however, you are expecting a bit of rambling of what our life has been like for the past several months, here it is... in no particular order... the good, the bad & the ugly:

we've finally started recycling, and I'm pretty excited about it... Kennan has become as addicted to Facebook (the applications, mostly) as I am... we got to leave the good ol' US of A for the first time ever, traveling to both Taiwan and Thailand to go to two weddings and to meet my Thai family... we lost our first child to a miscarriage in November, and though we're sad, are healing... the groups at Emory and Tech are doing well, and I'm still loving my job... GT lost to Fresno State in the bowl game (AGAIN) and I'm disgusted with my team (but pessimistically hopeful for next fall)... we got the complete series of Stargate SG1 for Christmas and it's fabulous... I've been using the word "fabulous" a lot lately, and I'm not sure why... our cats are as bad and as cute as ever... our unbelievable friends threw a surprise party (happy b-day Kennan/condolences/bon voyage) for us before we left for Asia, and I have never before felt so loved or humbled... seeing the Taipei 101 "explode" with fireworks on New Year's eve was fun, but a little freaky... I'm finally reading "Mere Christianity" by C.S. Lewis, and it's excellent... I continue to be amazed by how God loves us even when we're angry at him... Aaron and Becky are engaged, and that's super exciting!... I'm pleasantly surprised by the array of choices in the presidential election thus far... 99.7 is now Q100 and 100.5 is now a rock station with some of the old 99x peeps, and it's confusing... it snowed in Atlanta the day we got home from being in 95+ degree weather in Thailand... our apartment flooded while we were gone, and the Hwangs and the Mustains saved the day!... I turn 30 this year and am a little freaked out by that... Paul and Sarah are eagerly awaiting the sprouting of The Bean and (I'm excited that) I'm excited for them... Pretzel the Bear is now a world traveler... it was great to see family at Christmastime and I don't know where 2007 went... we slept from 9:30 pm Tues. to 6 pm Wed. when we got home from Asia... we're doing much better about our sleep schedule now and it's 10:30 so I'm going to say goodnight!

The Year of the Barf

The (Chinese) New Year started with a bang for me this year. Given that my sister-in-law will be marrying a wonderful Taiwanese friend in just a few short months, I've enjoyed learning more about the Chinese culture lately. To celebrate the new year, we went to Little Szechuan (oh, the sesame chicken! We were out of it so fast!) with our Thursday night small group and Canton House (oh, the sesame balls! I could not believe they were out of them!) when the mom-in-law was in town for wahdding plahnning. Our good friends Matt & Cheryl (and Becky! :) also shared with us some tickets to New Tang Dynasty Television's Chinese New Year Spectacular, which was both beautiful and a lot of fun. I enjoyed sitting next to Cheryl, who is also Taiwanese, as she could translate some for me and explain some of the customs. Good times with family & friends. Xin Nein Kuai Le! Happy New Year!

Unfortunately (as you might guess from the title), the Year of the Pig went downhill from there. The stomach flu descended on me that night and fun times at the Crane house ensued. There's nothing like a little projectile vomit (among other things, ew) to liven up your new year. I haven't been that sick in years. Being in bed all day for 3 days did provide a good time to (re)connect with my own Asian heritage, though. Between bouts of nausea and being passed out like a rock, I re-read Mai Pen Rai Means Nevermind (An American Housewife's Honest Love Affair with the Irrepressible People of Thailand) by Carol Hollinger, a very witty and downright hilarious book that made me yearn all the more to visit Thailand. Although... I identified all-too-well with her skirmishes with "amoebic" (dysentery) and am not sure I could be quite as laissez faire she was about the local water and crops. It does make sense that if you're going to be somewhere for an extended period of time, you might as well get the misery over with and acclimate as soon as possible so you can actually enjoy the culture. I would certainly not want to be the obnoxious, mincing American, scurrying around worrying over disease and pestilence. Perhaps when we go (someday!) I will enjoy the trip like I would while camping. I naturally relax when we go camping, and will tromp through all sorts of spider-infested areas and eat Lord-knows-what that fell Lord-knows-where with cheerful aplomb. Here's hoping.

Anyway, I'm all but back to normal and glad to be back in the swing of things. Happy Year of the Pig, everybody!

Harry Potter is Evil

No, I haven't lost my mind and joined the ranks of Harry Haters---especially not the woman in Gwinnett County! I still feel that it is not a problem for a Christian to read Harry Potter, provided that the occult is not a stumbling block for him or her. And I loved a comment I read on one of the many HP-themed sites when someone said that there are far more dangerous books at a Christian bookstore... hoo hoo hoo! Take that, Jabez!

But perhaps a more accurate title might be, "My Obsession with Harry Potter is Evil." I can't stop. I've read an unholy amount of theories, prognostications, and random silliness since the title and release date of Book 7 has been announced. My problem is not with the content of the books, but rather that I've become obsessed (almost to the point of possession) with all things Harry Potter. My poor husband is at his wits' end with my endless chattering about invisibility cloaks and horcruxes and scars and spells and time turners and... and... and...

Football season ended, with its usual tinny implosion, and I found myself another idol to fill the void. Why, oh why, do I do this? Where is my passion for Christ? For graduate students? For InterVarsity Press (yet another addiction, but not as time-consuming)? Why is it that I don't lose track of time and spend hours looking at websites about the plight of people in Africa, the Middle East, etc.? I made a rule about Harry Potter rumor-mongering only on the weekends. I broke it. It seems the harder I try to stop obsessing, the worse it gets. Like those stupid finger traps or a raccoon with its grubby little paw stuck in a trap, unwilling to let go of the prize to get away free.

Someone once told me that I should be willing to be as free during corporate worship as I am at a football game. I disagree. At Tech games, I'm loud, obnoxiously spirited, and concerned mainly with my own entertainment. Perhaps I'm too bogged down in "outdated traditions" (sorry about getting that sarcasm on your computer screen) but I think there is more to corporate worship than that. Or at least there should be.

So that begs the question, should I be as obsessed with God as I tend to get with GT football, HP, etc. etc.? I think not. There is no discipline, no control, no goal except to entertain myself. When I am getting too wrapped up in the world of Harry Potter, I am living rather vicariously through the characters. I am escaping from the real world, and I get rather feverish and frantic to know more, theorize more, read more. That is not what a life lived for and through God should look like. When I am getting wrapped up in God's word and his gracious and eternal plan (getting "too" wrapped up is not possible!), I am not escaping or living vicariously. I am instead living the life I was meant to live, and I am neither feverish nor frantic. Instead, I am hungry to know more, dream more, read more. I can tell the difference. Sometimes I just let myself ignore what I know to be true.

There is a distinctiveness to being engaged, excited and enthused about what God is doing here on earth as he is in heaven. Not a frenetic scrambling to please a merciless, lazy, whimsical god, but a life lived in energized obedience to a dying daily to self, with the help of a merciful, active, unchanging God.

I'm going to go read my Bible. It may not be as "fun" as other things I could do, but God has been gracious to give me the desire to do so, and it seems a shame to waste it.

The Mystery of Salvation

That title doesn't do my thoughts justice, but I'm not sure that any title could. I stumbled upon a deep theological discussion on the Boar's Head Tavern site about not just the innerrancy of scripture, but also about a strange cross-section of the Christian subculture that apparently has managed to resurrect for themselves a golden calf made of King James Bibles. In a metaphorical sense, of course. Although, the gold leaf would work nicely... hmmm...

I'm not sure quite what to think about the issue. While I agree that the Bible is not a magical portkey to Happy Salvation Land (just touch it at the prescribed time and poof! you arrive at your destination), there is a power inherent in the holy scripture of God, is there not? While the Bible alone does not save, and God alone does, he has chosen to use the medium of his son, the word made flesh among us, to provide that salvation, and the primary method of communication of that fact is indeed through the Bible. Right? (My head is spinning...)

As if that wasn't enough to get my noggin all in a tizzy, I then continued my way through the pub (in search of the billards tables, but I was alas! waylaid) and came across a discussion of Ted Haggard. I've mentioned my feelings on the matter before. In a previous post, I started out judging (not the pastor, but those that would judge him), and as usually happens, ended up with a nasty close-up of my own sin, judgements and self-righteous behavior. In reading some of the thoughts of the denizens of the Boar's Head, I found myself once again quick to judge... but then I clicked on this link and now I'm really feeling flummoxed.

Haggard's words in November 2003. It's almost creepy, really. A bit of irony, of foreshadowing, perhaps a subconscious plea for help? What really got me to thinking, though, was his mention of Martin Luther's "[lament] at the end of his life that he might not be justified." (Anyone have any insight into this? Was Haggard presenting this idea out of context?) Haggard warns us all, and for good reason, that we must "ensure that we are not the whitewashed tombs and snakes of our day." But I find some of his reasoning troubling. He gives the very Biblical warnings that we are to be known as Christians by our love, that our actions are important. But he seems to make the claim that if we are not loving, if we are not taking care of the least of these, and if we are doing that which we do not want to do, then it is a warning sign that our salvation may not be secure. Maybe no one else got that idea from his article, but it unnerved me.

Is it not better to rely on God's sovereign power and gracious choice of us, while we were yet still enemies, as the binding seal and sign of our salvation? Okay, I may be getting out of line here, but it is indeed a very short jump from, "Good fruit is a sign of salvation" to "Salvation through works." I just don't like relying on my fallible actions to reassure me that Christ has chosen and redeemed me. I find it very comforting that no matter how badly I screw up (daily!), God is with me and will not forsake me. Is it perhaps the difference between our own assurance of our salvation and what bears testimony to others? I think I may better understand the urges that would prompt a person to tear out the book of James. Speaking of blasphemy. And redemption.

Okay, if I've been wildly heretical here, tell me! In the mean time, I'm off to sacrifice goats. (What a smartass ending to a rather heartfelt post!)