Spiritual drought

Christians have a phrase to describe times when they don't feel close in their relationship with God. They call it a "spiritual drought."

I'm going through one of those right now. If I were a good Christian, then I should probably be concerned about it and should be striving to correct it, right?

Not necessarily.

Yeah, I'm in a "drought" right now. But I'm not worried about it. In fact, it's probably a good sign. The truth about relationship is that it is hard. And the reality is that there are times when you don't feel close to a person in a relationship. If a relationship were good all the time, then it honestly wouldn't be a real relationship. So when I have a spiritual drought, it's an indicator to me that I have a real relationship with Jesus. And this is just one of those difficult times.

The other thing is that I have had periods like this before. And on a long enough time frame, Jesus pulled me out of it. And our relationship improved from that experience. So I know that this period is not a permanent time, and it does not signify that my relationship with Jesus is worsening and disappearing. In time, I know I'll come back to Jesus and our relationship will be better afterward.

So yeah. "Spiritual droughts": not a bad thing.

Don't believe me? Here's evidence.

A Facebook friend of mine posted this status today:

"What a blessing to be able to secure God's Word within my mind and heart and to so affix it there that it becomes a part of who I am. Such a better relationship I have with Him when I allow God's word to take up its residence within me rather than treating it as a friend passing through, or more often as a handyman who I call upon to fix my spiritual clogs."

This is an example of what I was talking about in an earlier post here.

I don't quite understand this status. God's word is treated as a living being, as it is described as "a friend passing through" or "a handyman . . . to fix my spiritual clogs" that "take[s] up its residence within me." If he's talking about the Bible, the Bible itself is not alive. If it were, then it could be added to or changed (but apparently that's heretical). (But what about that Hebrews verse: "The word of God is living and active"?) It really depends on what each speaker means when one says "God's word" and "alive" or "living." What I mean when I say "living" is perhaps different from what the writer of Hebrews meant by "living."

For the record, no, the Bible is not living, from a biological standpoint. It is inanimate.

But maybe the guy who posted this status means Jesus when he says "God's word." Perhaps that could explain why he describes God's word in such a way to depict it as living and breathing. But if he means Jesus, then what the hell does this mean: "What a blessing to be able to secure Jesus within my mind and heart..." etc. etc.

In closing, I don't understand the Facebook post. I think it's just common Christianese disguised by fancier words and and atypical sentence structures. And Christianese has no meaning to me anymore.

Loaded questions

I can't tell you how many times in my life I've been asked, "What's God doing in your life right now?" And most of the time, my response is to temporarily panic as I frantically try to come up with something that will satisfactorily answer the question while making me sound like a good Christian. In this context, "good Christian" means that I am aware of what God is doing in my life, that I'm not resisting him and just letting him do his work in me, and that I am having a positive/optimistic attitude about it.

The thing is, that question is not fair. What am I supposed to say when I don't realize or comprehend what God is doing in my life? What am I supposed to say when I know I'm going through a "spiritual drought" and I'm not seeing God work? There's really only one satisfactory way to respond to that question--to have some kind of an answer. If you don't have an answer, then you are thought of as rebelling against God, or something is off in your relationship with him.

A better (but still not great) question would be, "What is the most recent thing God has done in your life?" That question isn't perfect either, because it still places the respondent under great pressure; however, it does not require the respondent to talk about any specific time, which is good.

Here's an even better option: how about we not ask those kinds of loaded questions? How about we let people open up to us about God's work in their lives when they're comfortable doing so? How about if we do ask those questions, we accept "Nothing," "I don't know," or "I don't want to talk about it," as satisfactory answers? Just a thought.

On a similar note, a similar phenomenon happens when there's a communal moment of, "What is the Holy Spirit convicting you about?" And then people frantically try to find things about them that are wrong, unless something readily comes to mind. Gee, that's a really negative way to live--actively searching for your flaws.

Christians are funny, but they also piss me off.

I'm mildly incensed by this, so that's why I'm writing about it.

A friend of mine shared a status update from the C.S. Lewis fan page on Facebook. It was a quotation of Lewis'. In response, I jokingly commented, "C.S. Lewis can't post statuses, he's dead! Obviously an impostor."

This friend had another Facebook friend who is older (I Facebook stalked him, he's about 63) who commented on the status after me: "CSLewis was one of the most profound thinkers and lovers of the Gospel and The Lord Jesus Christ. Max, u need to repent of ur ignorance and see the truth in his writings"

This response highlights three major things which I think Christians tend to do a lot of: 1) assuming things about their audience; 2) changing the subject; and 3) giving unsolicited prescriptions.

First, assumptions. This guy (let's call him "John" [not his real name]) assumed that I was not a Christian, and that I did not know who C.S. Lewis was. John assumed that what I commented was out of disrespect for Lewis' quotation. Because of these assumptions, he could not see past his immediate judgments of who I was, and he called me ignorant and unrepentant.

Second, changing the subject. Disregarding my motivations or intentions in posting the comment, the words that I said did not pass any judgment whatsoever on Lewis' quotation. I was not evaluating it, validating it, or discounting it. Despite this fact, John changed the subject to talk about who Lewis was and how I was an unrepentant, ignorant sinner. He twisted what I said to turn it into a preaching moment (although it felt more condemning). I feel like that's something that I hear about Christians a lot--changing the subject to "you need to repent" rather than just being a normal person to have a conversation with.

Third, giving unsolicited prescriptions. I didn't ask for what I "needed" to do. But John saw fit to tell me so anyway. And apparently, I need to repent of my ignorance and see the truth in Lewis' writings. John made a judgment about where I was spiritually, and he claimed that he had the solution to what I needed to do. Sounds exactly like what we're not supposed to do according to Matthew 7--judge others. And rather than engaging me in further conversation and trying to understand where I was coming from, John cut off any opportunity whatsoever for relationship by immediately telling me what was wrong with me and how I needed to change. Because that is clearly how you make disciples of Jesus.

If I wasn't a Christian, and if I had never spoken to John before, would what John said have led me to Jesus? Not a chance. In fact, I would have been driven further away from Christianity. Jesus said "make disciples," not "tell people what's wrong with them and then walk away." Making disciples requires relationship--a big and scary thing. Sorry, but a rude, judgmental Facebook comment's just not gonna do it.

So now we know another way that doesn't work in making disciples of Jesus.

Ahh, catharsis. I feel a bit better now.




(Side note: your argument has a lot less power when you tell me "u need to repent of ur ignorance." And when you don't end your sentences in periods.)

Christians are so funny: The Series; Part II - Christianese

"Dear Lord, I just thank you so much for this day, and for this opportunity to just have fun, and I pray that we will just do this pep rally for you, and that you will just bless our days afterward. In your name, amen."

I heard a prayer similar to that at my Christian high school before we had a pep rally. Several times. A cheerleader would lead the school in this prayer right after she had just finished dancing somewhat salaciously in a form-fitting, revealing outfit in front of a bunch of high schoolers. (I'm sure none of the guys (or girls) were having lustful thoughts, and none of the girls felt insecure watching the cheerleaders. Because that never happens at a Christian high school.) This type of prayer showcases the absurdity of Christian dialect, or Christianese.

First, there's the sheer number of times people say the word "just" while praying out loud. In no other context would saying "just" so many times be appropriate. But for some reason, when Christians pray, it's okay to beg God and to expect very little of him. Saying "just" in a prayer communicates, "God, if you could please do just this one thing, then everything would be better." It minimizes and trivializes what the one praying is asking of God.

Second, there's the phrase "for you," in reference to God. What the hell does it mean to do something "for God?" How can you have a pep rally be "for God?" Seriously, what does that even mean? I don't understand!

Similar to the "for God" is the common practice of dedicating something to God. I don't know what that means either. Does it mean you continually pray to him while the activity is occurring? Or do you do the activity to glorify him?

Except now I don't even know what that means either. Third example: doing something "for God's glory" or "to glorify God." I twitch whenever I hear that phrase, because I bet the person saying it has no idea what they mean by that--they're just saying it because it's common jargon in Christian culture. I certainly have no idea what it means--that's why I don't say it!

So here's my two cents: let's actually communicate with each other. Not just toss around colloquialisms with little to no meaning. Let's be specific and concrete about what we actually are trying to say about God and about our experiences with God. Let's be real.

What if the Trinity isn't a thing?

When I asked myself that question, the first thing I thought of was something I remember learning in American History in high school. I remember that during the time of the colonies, several colonists were exiled from their colonies of origin because they denied the existence of the Trinity. They probably went to the colony of Rhode Island to do more heretical things with Anne Hutchinson.

Needless to say, most Protestants consider belief in the Trinity to be a pretty important thing.

But the funny thing is that nowhere in Scripture is the concept of the Trinity mentioned. I easily see how the idea is constructed by logical inference; (1) Jesus claims to be equal with God the Father, and (2) Jesus says he will send his spirit, which is the Holy Spirit. This implies that Jesus is equivalent to God the Father and to the Holy Spirit. We can infer, therefore, that the Holy Spirit is also equivalent to God the Father, although no such direct claim exists that I am aware of. Thus, even though the Trinity is never explicitly mentioned, we can easily see how the idea of it is constructed.

However, the Trinity is a limiting idea. It defines God as three and only three separate but equal beings, or something like that. But what if there are more beings that are part of this unity that are simply not mentioned or alluded to in Scripture? What about the possibility of a Quadinity, Quintinity, or a Hexinity? Or maybe God is comprised of an infinite number of separate but equal beings! We don't know!

It's fun to see how much we actually don't know about God.