Thoughts and Musings on Faith, Music, Family, Life

Love is Louder than Hate

Our church's youth group tells it like it is. I love these guys. Very loudly.

I'm not Howard

It all started around two weeks ago.  I was sitting on the couch watching TV when I heard my text ring go off: John Cleese's, Message for you, Sir! from Monty Python's Holy Grail.  I pulled the phone out of my pocket and read the text:

Hello custmoer get $1500 cash now!Loan for you. Call 866-XXX-XXXX to begin. Reply STOP 2end.

Ugh, spam, I thought.  Don't get much of these.  Still, what a pain.

I had no idea.

Within an hour I received a phone call from a number I didn't know.  I answered and said hello.  There was a pause on the other end; that nauseating bit of nothingness in phone calls that lets you know some computer has randomly called your number (didn't I put this on the "Do Not Call" registry?) and is now transferring you to an operator. Before I could hang up the voice came on.

Apparently, according to the person on the other end, I had applied for a loan online and this was the number I had given.  They were calling me to complete the application process.  I told them that I hadn't applied for any loan and to remove my number from their database.  Almost before I finished my sentence, they hung up.

It was not the last phone call I would get that day.  It was not the last phone call I would get that hour.

By my recollection, I received ten other phone calls the rest of the day, all from companies saying the exact same thing - that I had applied for a loan online and they were calling the number provided to complete the process.  My response quickly became efficient and rehearsed: no, I hadn't applied for a loan; please take my number off your list.  The curious (and most frustrating) thing was that each company was different from the one before, so I couldn't tell one company to stop it for all the others.  It was like hitting the reset button each time.  And if I didn't answer, they would leave me voice mail messages and call back.

This went on for days.

At some point I made a conscious effort to put as many pieces of the puzzle together that I could.  It was obvious the person on the other line was sitting at some massive call center in India or elsewhere. Eventually the pieces became clearer: apparently, to them, I was Howard.  Howard from somewhere in California. And Howard had engaged in some transaction online that he shouldn't have and extended me the courtesy of giving them a random cell phone number, which just happened to be mine.

I'm not a fan of Howard.

It got to the point that I would look at the number coming in and immediately recognize it as "one of those calls" - an 800 or 866 number, or some number out in California.  So I would answer and immediately start saying, with a sternness in my voice unbecoming of my style, "I'm not Howard."  I'd repeat this over and over again and tell them they had a wrong number; that Howard had given it out randomly and without my permission, and they needed to remove it from their database.  I'd keep repeating this until they got the picture and would apologize and hang up.  Some wouldn't even wait that long.  

There was one instance that stood out from all the rest, though.  It began like the others - a phone call from somewhere in California, me answering with my standard and stern "I'm not Howard."  But things took a crazy turn when the voice on the other end mimicked my sternness and responded: "Oh yes, you ARE Howard."  

Well, that's different.

The more I tried to convince this guy that I was not Howard, the more he tried to convince me I was.  I'm sure this would've looked comical to a bystander, had there been anyone with me at the time.

There was more.  This guy was part of some collections agency, he said; and there was a lien issued on a loan that had not been paid; so they were sending out a collections team immediately to repossess the monies.  

But I'm not Howard, I told him.

You ARE Howard.

I would interrupt him to tell him I wasn't.  He would interrupt me to tell me I was.

I told him I lived in North Carolina.  He told me I lived in California and gave an address.

I told him I'd never applied for a loan online.  He told me I had and recited a social security number.

You ARE Howard, he assured me.  And we're sending the collections team out to you today.

And then it hit me; what I needed to do.  So obvious.

I told him, Listen, do it.  Absolutely, send out that collections team to that fictitious address in California and flash that manufactured social security number in his face. 

I mean it, he said.  We're coming.

Great, I said.

I'm not kidding, he said.

I know, and that makes me so happy!  Go and find Howard.  And when you find him, tell him to stop making up cell phone numbers and applying for loans from third-rate online companies.  Because chances are those numbers belong to actual people who don't have time for this silliness.

You're Howard, and we're coming to get you, he said, and hung up.

I sure hope they did.

The calls keep coming, but not nearly as frequently.  Maybe after a while the number works its way through the system and gets flagged as a dud.  Maybe.  But if you happen to be with me sometime in the future, and my phone rings, and you see me look down at the caller ID and watch my eyes roll, you'll understand why I answer the phone with the rather strange greeting, "I'm not Howard!"

And Howard, if you even exist, if by some crazy coincidence of the cosmos you happen to be reading this blog post, I have one thing to say to you:

I sure hope you pay back your loan.

 

 

I'm bummed.....but I'm encouraged.

I'm bummed that Amendment One passed…..but I'm encouraged that close to 40% of voting North Carolinians tried to keep it from passing.
 
I'm bummed that discrimination has been enshrined into our state constitution…..but I'm encouraged that our calling to love all people as Jesus loves us isn't something that has to be voted on and approved by a majority.
 
I'm bummed that some well-meaning Christians supported this amendment…..but I'm encouraged that other well-meaning Christians, and people of other faiths, voted against it - and did so not in spite of their faith but because of it.
 
I'm bummed that the lives of lots of people who have nothing to do with gay marriage will be affected by this change to our state constitution…..but I'm encouraged that far more people than just a month ago are now aware of this and are prepared to stand in their defense.

I'm bummed that some people think I am in error for the way I voted…..but I'm encouraged that many like me are absolutely willing to err on the side of love.
 
I'm bummed that a particular segment of society has once again been vilified…..but I'm encouraged that more and more people are becoming aware - and vocal - about how wrong this really is.
 
I'm bummed that some Christians felt they had no choice but to vote for the amendment…..but I'm encouraged that some Christians realized they did have a choice, and used that choice to vote against.

I'm bummed that some people were confused about what a "FOR" and "AGAINST" vote actually meant…..but I'm encouraged that lots of folks took time to find out all the facts.
 
I'm bummed that some felt it important to enshrine their own interpretation of certain Biblical passages into a government constitution…..but I'm encouraged (and hopeful) that those same people will rally behind forthcoming Amendments Two, Three and Four, which will ban collecting interest for profit (Leviticus 25:36; Deuteronomy 23:19), eating shrimp (Leviticus 11:12), and football (Leviticus 11:7-8).
 
(okay, so that last one was totally a joke, albeit one to prove a point. Besides, we need a good laugh, right?)
 
I'm bummed that Amendment One passed.  There are many of us who are bummed. But even so, I'm encouraged.  Very encouraged.  Because no constitutional amendment will ever keep us from doing our best to follow Jesus' example - to love all people, stand beside all of God's children, equally and completely.

We're bummed, but we're encouraged. So this isn't over. We're just getting started.

Why I am against Amendment One

I imagine it's been obvious, for anyone who's followed me on Facebook or Twitter the past few weeks, that I am opposed to Amendment One - the proposed change to the North Carolina state constitution that would read as follows:

Marriage between one man and one woman is the only domestic legal union that shall be validated or recognized in this State. 

This amendment, a staple in pretty much every other Southern state, was put on the ballot by our state legislature and has garnered tremendous attention over the past few months leading up to the May 8 vote.

Yet I realized the other day that, while I've done a pretty good job of expressing my opinion on the matter, I haven't really explained why.  And while there are many reasons why I oppose it and voted against it in early voting last week (see picture above), there really is only one true reason why I oppose Amendment One.

Amendment One is poorly worded and, in its attempt to prohibit gay marriage, would create all kinds of legal messiness for those who don't fit the narrowly-defined  "only domestic legal union" equation - namely, unmarried couples, domestic partners, children of those partnerships and even domestic violence victims.  It's bad that these folks have been unwittingly dragged into the fray, but it is not THE reason I oppose Amendment One.
 
Amendment One is 100% unnecessary, as there is already a law in North Carolina prohibiting gay marriage.  Proponents of the amendment say it will prevent "activist judges" from overturning the law at some point in the future.  This kind of flawed logic suggests that we need to create constitutional amendments to back up all "important" state laws, much the same way my Time Capsule backs up my Macbook every hour.  The latter is completely necessary (as evidenced by the demise of my computer harddrive last week); Amendment One is not.  But that is not THE reason I oppose Amendment One.
 
Amendment One is discriminatory.  Again, defenders balk at the use of this word because, in their mind, they are simply defending "traditional marriage."  And yet, the word "discriminate" means: "to make an unjust or prejudicial distinction in the treatment of different categories of people or things, esp. on the grounds of race, sex, or age."  This is precisely what Amendment One does for gay and lesbian persons - it deprives them of something everyone else has.  Besides, constitutions are about guaranteeing people's rights, not restricting them.  And yet this is still not THE reason I oppose Amendment One.
 
I have a cousin who is gay and currently in a loving and committed relationship (that in no way, I might add, adversely affects my marriage or endangers my two children, as some insist).  They've surrounded themselves with friends and family who love and support them, including mine.  Still, I know they are subjected to ridicule and scorn by those who can't see the person beyond the orientation.  Amendment One has the feel of kicking someone when they're down, heaping more burden on a population that has suffered enough already; almost to the point of cruelty.  But that is not THE reason I oppose Amendment One. 
 
No, the primary reason I oppose Amendment One is because of my Christian faith. 

I know, that sounds strange, doesn't it?  We're used to Christianity being used as a reason (if not the only reason) for supporting the amendment.  We are told, for instance, that the Bible says gay people shouldn't get married and marriage is between one man and one woman.  Which is some selective reading, I might add, since it never actually says that (as I've pointed out to the Genesis 2 crowd, Adam and Eve weren't married); and since the predominant model of marriage in the Bible is one man and multiple women (try King Solomon's 700 wives and 300 concubines on for size).

So while I can't change the fact that pro-Amendment folks try to claim exclusive rights to the Christian mantle, what I can do is claim some of that mantle back and draw attention to the increasing Christian voice against Amendment One, including myself squarely among its ranks.  And make no mistake - it is a strong and legitimate voice, and it is growing.

In a Letter to the Editor I submitted last week to the Winston-Salem Journal, I pointed out that, while there are at best six to eight verses in the entire Bible that are commonly used to denounce homosexuality (with, I might add, questionable interpretation), there are literally thousands of verses calling the faithful to love their neighbor, care for the “least of these,” tend to orphans and widows and most vulnerable, seek justice for all, use governmental power wisely and compassionately, and not mistreat the foreigner in their midst.  It's like an NBA All-Star team stacking up against the woeful Charlotte Bobcats' second string - it's not even close.  When it comes to the sheer weight of scripture, the message of love triumps in a landslide.

And when we look specifically at Jesus as he's presented in the gospels, what we see is a man who didn't just tolerate the oppressed and outcasts, but actually sought them out.  He made a point of hanging out with them, dining with them, immersing himself into their lives no matter who they were or what others thought of them.  It drove the religious authorities nuts.  And for all his talk about loving neighbor and self, Jesus never said a word about homosexuality or gay marriage.  Not one.

So when I look at the scriptures and Jesus' life, I see an overwhelming portrait of Christian tolerance, acceptance, non-judgmentalism, and unconditional love - none of which square with Amendment One.  Because make no mistake: there is nothing loving about Amendment One.   There is nothing loving about legislation that would have all the negative consequences mentioned above.  You could possibly argue that it's "principled" or consistent (in relation to the state law already on the books), but you can't say that it's loving and compassionate in the spirit of Jesus.

I realize there are folks who disagree with me, and I'm okay with that.  I will respect their right to believe something different and hope they will return the courtesy.  It's the wonderful and sometimes frustrating thing about being adherents of the same faith - we can see things differently and still be brothers and sisters in Christ.  I will say this: if I am in error, if I've totally got my signals crossed, then I am fully content with erring on the side of love, rather than on the side of legislation that I feel pretty certain Jesus himself wouldn't be in favor of. 

And that is ultimately why I voted against Amendment One - because I believe, with all my heart, that Jesus would have voted against it too.

We'll see what Tuesday brings.  If it's defeated, I'll give thanks to God and be proud of the state I've lived in all my life.  And if it passes?  I'll be disappointed, but I'll move on with even deeper convictions and a better sense of my voice in the matter.  I'll be enthused by the wide spectrum of folks - people from different generations, different backgrounds, and even different political parties - who have come together on this issue in the spirit of Christ's love and in defense of all of God's children.

And most of all, I'll keep on loving like Jesus, the best that I can.  Thank God that is something that needs no legislation.

Craving Authenticity

A few years back, I read this book as part of my doctoral studies on preaching in a postmodern culture (and if you have tons of time to kill, you are welcome to read my dissertation HERE).  The book talked about the need for the church to be authentic.  Sounds simple enough, I know.  But its not.  Authenticity is a huge problem for today's church, as more and more congregations are either trying to mirror society with flashy "programs," or swing the other way and draw lines on who is in and who is out - all in the name of "growing their church."  When in fact, what people are desiring most from the church, I think, is for it to be authentic.  To be who they are; to be comfortable in their own skin.  To be real.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately, as my church just finished an amazing Bible study on Phyllis Tickle's insightful book The Great Emergence and considered at depth some of these issues.  Then today, this article found its way into my RSS feed.  Please take five minutes to read it.  It's written by a man named Christian Piatt who took a decade hiatus from the church for a variety of reasons.  What brought Christian back to the church, he says, were four things in particular:

• He found a church that defied Christian stereotypes - real people who weren't what he had unfortunately come to expect from those bearing the title "Christian" (the old Gandhi line, "I like your Christ, but I do not like your Christians" comes to mind).
• He found his voice - the church was a place that validated and encouraged him to share his musical gifts.
• He found deeper meaning - meaning that went beyond the standard "heaven and hell" dichotomy and other surface issues that occupy so much of the space of Christianity today.
• He found a sense of belonging - that went beyond simply being a "member" of an "institution."  He was included, validated and welcomed simply for who he was.

He concludes with this powerful statement:

I can hear great sermons online. I can download more great music to my iPod than I can listen to in a lifetime. I can join a country club and feel like I’m a part of some fancy, exclusive group. What I can’t necessarily get in other parts of my life is authenticity.

That'll preach!

As a pastor I see people come and go in the life of the church.  And it's true; folks are often attracted to churches because the preacher preaches great sermons or the church has a great youth ministry or the choir is dynamic or the sanctuary is lovely.  But those kinds of things, I've found, don't sustain them for the long haul. Preachers come and go, the choir will occasionally hit a bum note, and youth eventually do what they're supposed to do and grow up and leave (and, sometimes, their families with them). 

More and more, I'm convinced that what attracts people to a particular church, and what keeps them there, is that they sense at some deep level that their church is authentic.  Not that it has all the answers, but that it's a place where you can ask all the questions.  Not that it knows exactly who it is and what it's called to do in the world, but that it's committed to the ongoing journey of discerning that.  Not that it understands itself by negation (we are not this; we are not that...), but that it understands itself by affirmation (we are this; we are that...).  And most importantly perhaps, not that it is defined by its fears, but that it is defined by its hopes.

I realize I'm a little biased, but I think people would be knocking down the doors to get into a church like that.  What do you think?

The Hunger Games, Harry Potter, Star Wars and the Grand Canyon (the movie, not the place)

As usual, I'm a bit of a "Johnny-come-lately" to The Hunger Games.  I finished the book this past Saturday just in time to see the movie last night with a friend.  The movie kept pretty close to the book, a rarity for such transitions.  Cinematography was spot-on, as was the casting. Let me just say: Donald Sutherland creeps me out for no other reason than simply being Donald Sutherland.

My interest has been piqued by a lot of conversation bubbling up around the over-the-top violence chronicled in the books, highlighted in the horrific notion of kids killing kids.  I must admit this reaction suprises me to an extent.  We live in an actual world marred by immeasurable violence where kids are killing kids every single day - not just one day out of the year in some manufactured sporting event.  We know this exists, and yet most of us simply ignore it.  And yet we get our feathers ruffled over a book?

Okay, stepping off the soapbox now...

The thing that stands out for me in The Hunger Games is the way it engages (albeit brutally) a common motif in children's literature and movies: the nature of "good versus evil."  In that regard, this trilogy has a lot of company.  You don't have to look too far back to see Harry Potter in your rearview mirror.  C.S. Lewis' Perelandra and Madeleine L'Engle's A Wrinkle In Time are other trilogies in the same vein.  Even the Star Wars saga of my generation - and the new trilogy of the current one - follows suit. 

In a sense I guess it shouldn't surprise us that this theme continues to crop up in media intended for a younger audience but experienced by all.  Kids are much more perceptive than we give them credit for and much more in-tune to the brokenness of the world in which they live.  One night a few weeks ago, my youngest son and I were flipping channels and happened upon the story of the American solider who murdered women and children civilians in Afghanistan.  Before I had a chance to quickly switch it to something else per my protective parental instincts, my son pipes up: "Daddy, why did that man do that?  That was wrong."  I tried in my feeble way to unpack some of the purported reasons, except things of such a horrific nature don't have a nice, neat answer.  Likewise, we're left racking our brains as to how President Snow and the Capitol can wield their complete power over the twelve districts and fully engage their sadistic cravings in The Hunger Games.  There is good and there is not-good; and sometimes we're one and sometimes the other.  Try explaining that to a seven-year old.

In truth, stories like The Hunger Games appeal to our young people - and society in general - because they tell a story of unexplainable violence, power struggles, abuse of power, hunger, poverty, etc. that is part of the world they're trying to grow up in.  I'm inclined to think that's a big part of the reason why the books have sold so many copies and the movie made $25 million in its first night.  We don't know what to do in the face of that kind of "evil;" and in some ways we find ourselves sitting right next to Katniss on that fallen tree in the arena, bawling our eyes out. 

So, two thoughts.  First, I found this article particularly helpful - a review of the movie written by a pacifist, nonetheless - that talks about how these books do a fabulous job of indicting violence by portraying violence.  Worth a read.

Second, I can't help but think back to a very different movie that came out in 1991. Grand Canyon didn't have sadistic dictators, evil wizards or man-machine hybrids with a strong tendency for the dark side of the force; but it nevertheless dealt very poignantly with the nature of evil in one particular scene.  Near the beginning of the movie, Kevin Kline’s character has his car break down in a bad part of East L.A. and is waiting on a two truck when five young men drive by, stop, and tell him to get out of his car.  Things are about to take a turn for the worst when the tow truck finally arrives.  The driver, played by Danny Glover, recognizes what's going on and asks the one in charge to let him do his job.  He tells him he's crazy.  And that's when a tow truck driver offers this little tidbit of wisdom on the streets of east L.A.:

You know, the world ain’t supposed to work like this.  Maybe you don’t know that, but this ain’t the way it’s supposed to be.  I’m supposed to be able to do my job without you asking if I can.  That dude is supposed to be able to wait with his car without you ripping him off. Everything’s supposed to be different than what it is.

(Note: There's a great YouTube clip of this scene, but it's totally in Spanish. Just my luck).

Stories like The Hunger Games, Harry Potter, Star Wars and many others appeal to our young folks - and people of all ages - because in their own way they echo Danny Glover's words: Everything's supposed to be different than what it is.  We enjoy reading about those who seek to act on this - people with names like Katniss, Harry and his friends, Luke Skywalker and others.  What's even better, though, are those in the real world who are trying to do the same thing.  Hopefully books and movies like The Hunger Games (and I'm over halfway through the second book) will help us cherish these folks more, and perhaps even inspire us in some small way to add our own name to the list.

He should get a Grammy for his speech

They could call it, "Best Advice For Any Aspiring Musician."

"To me, this award means a lot because it shows that the human element of making music is what's most important.  Singing into a microphone and learning to play an instrument and learning to do your craft - that's the most important thing for people to do.  It's not about being perfect, it's not about sounding absolutely correct, it's not about what goes on a computer, it's about what goes on in here (points to heart) and about what goes on in here (points to head)."

As my good friend and MBG bandmate Jerry Chapman tweeted, "Preach it, Rev. Grohl." 

(click HERE for YouTube video if you don't see it above)

My journey as a 21-day Vegan

Yep - as of today, I've completed the 21-day vegan detox diet that's all the rage.  No meat, dairy or eggs for three weeks.  It's been a bit of a change, but nothing terribly bad.  In fact, I've rather enjoyed it.  Some random reflections on the journey in no particular order:

• I lost a lot of weight, somewhere in the 10-12 pound range. This was the main reason I did the diet.  The trick, of course, is keeping it off.  We'll see how long that lasts.  But for now, I'm pleased.


• I didn't miss meat as much as I thought I would. I'm not a huge steak-eater and hamburgers make rare appearances in my diet.  The meat I'm more inclined to eat is when it's part of something else - turkey in a sandwich, chicken in my wife's awesome chicken pie, ground beef in a bowl of chili.  I thought I'd miss this kind of meat moreso, but other than the occasional craving for a slice of pepperoni pizza it hasn't been that bad.


• Probably the hardest thing to give up was dairy.  I've always been a big milk-drinker - some in my cereal in the morning, a glass or two with dinner at night. It's a pretty significant part of my diet.  Problem is, the milk we buy at the grocery store has all kinds of hormones that were given to the cows that produced it; and those hormones wind up in our body.  Soy milk and almond milk are acquired tastes, but after a while you get used to it. 


• I thought a lot more about the foods I put in my body. And I guess in a sense that's part of what the diet is about.  You can't just grab whatever's in the fridge or whatever you've got in the pantry.  You're constantly asking yourself: Does this have eggs in it?  Does it have milk?  This wasn't a bad exercise to engage in outside the diet itself.  How many of us eat whatever's right in front of us without thinking about where it came from, what's in it, etc?


• I ate less. Kind of a natural byproduct of the previous one. Besides, if your fridge is like ours, you have multiple kinds of sandwich meat and cheese but not a lot of beans and greens.


• Side effects of the diet - your body has to go through an adjustment period as it transitions to the vegan diet. For me, it hit around Day Three or Four.  I felt a little tipsy that was something between slight fatigue and a weird high of sorts.  I had this odd metal taste in my mouth, probably a little iron deficiency going on.  Once I hit Day Five, though, it was all good.  I found my energy level was much better.


• As with everything, there's an app for that.  Although I didn't use it much, since it called for some recipies that were either a bit extravagant for my tastes, or unreasonable for one reason or another.  But it's still worth checking out.  And when you do, you'll learn that....


• Cous cous and black beans rock. They're in just about everything in the diet, and that's perfectly fine with me.  Others that found their way into my diet over the past 21 days - peanut butter, good ol' fruit, carrot sticks, soy milk. Oh, and give the green smoothie a try.  Sounds gross, but it's actually pretty tasty.


• It's a bit of a challenge when your family isn't doing the diet with you, but it's not impossible. Basically I made my own meals beside the rest of my family for three weeks.  The only time this was hard was when the wife and kids had her most excellent homemade chicken pie.  That was a tough one to sit out.  And going out to eat had its challenges, especially in my locale where "family cooking" is most prevalent and certainly not very vegan.  In the end, though, everything worked out fine.

So - where to go from here?  More than likely I'll retain some elements of the vegan diet but not so hard-core.  I'll probably throw fish back into the mix and eat beef and chicken very sporadically. I'll eat some eggs but do my best to make sure they're free-range and organic.  As far as milk - this is the one thing I think I'm going to give up altogether. Soy and Almond milks are not a bad substitute, and void of any nasty hormones.  Big deal for me, as I've been a "milk boy" for most of my life.  Hopefully this modification will continue helping to keep the weight off!

T-shirt irony

Hating's hard work, people. It's tough keeping up the bigoted, intolerant image all the time.  Even the hardest of the hard core are bound to slip up eventually.

(http://i.huffpost.com/gen/437288/WESTBORO-CHURCH-GLEE-TSHIRT.jpg)

"Thou shall give thanks"

A few years ago, a good friend recommended a book called The Year of Living Biblically.  It was summer and the family beach trip was approaching, so the timing was perfect.  Turned out to be a great read - one of those rare books that's both entertaining and thought-provoking.  If you haven't heard the concept, author A.J. Jacobs decided to take an entire year to live biblically - in other words, following every one of the 600-700 laws of the Old and New Testaments to a "T," no matter how silly they seemed in today's world or what awkward situation they might put him in.  It's a fabulous read and certainly worth your time.  If you're looking for a teaser, check out this short TED video (click HERE if it doesn't appear):

It should be noted that Jacobs was raised Jewish but considers himself an agnostic.  Even so, this self-imposed journey was not about making fun of religion, but in fact exploring its depths in a way, quite frankly, many religious folk have not. Of course, he knew he'd be writing a book and had to sell copies.  Still, there's a level of sincerity to what he does that appeals to both the faithful and skeptic.

There are lots of hilarious moments, like the time he had to find an adulterer to stone, or the time he spent shepherding (with an actual sheep). In the end, Jacobs' beliefs weren't necessarily changed - he bills himself now as a "reverent agnostic" - but he says he came to a better understand of faith and appreciation for the Bible, captured in his "Thou Shalls" below. Ironically, I feel these are words of wisdom not only for the reverent agnostics among us, but the faithful as well:

Thou shall not take the Bible literally - I remember an exercise my Old Testament seminary professor led us in on our first day of class.  She had us split into groups of three or four, gave us a large sheet of newsprint and markers, and asked us to draw Song of Solomon 4:1-5, exactly as we read it. Look it up and you'll understand the point of the exercise.  Taking the Bible seriously and taking it literally are two very, very different things.

Thou shall give thanks - One of the great thing Jacobs took away from his experience of living Biblically was how his behavior changed his thoughts - kind of the opposite of how we usually think things work.  Simply following God's command to give thanks, in the long run, actually made him a more thankful person. I love the way Jacobs describes how he started realizing the little things that went right every day instead of the few things that went wrong.

Thou shall have reverence - Might sound odd coming from an agnostic, but remember - he's a reverent agnostic.  Yeah, I'm not quite sure what that means either, but Jacobs does recognize that there's something important about the idea of sacredness and seeking out the sacred in our world.  I'd agree with that.

Thou shall not stereotype - Jacobs spent a lot of time with different religious groups as part of this exercise - everything from evangelical Christians to Hasidic Jews to Red-Letter Christians.  He went into those interactions with a lot of preconceived notions, and he came out learning that many of them were not true.  If only we could do the same.  Our society today - especially religious circles - is often built on the premise that we don't necessarily need to interact with "the other," especially if we think we've got it right already.  Here's to Jacobs for demonstrating the folly of that thinking.

Thou shall not disregard the irrational - A common criticism on organized religion is that some religious practices make no rational sense.  Can't argue with them there - who really understands communion, anyway?  Or the one Jacobs initially wrestled with - the commandment against wearing clothes made out of mixed fabric (yep, it's in there).  What Jacobs came to realize, though, is that the mystery of the irrational in faith actually comprises the very heart of belief.  As long as they're not harming another person, he says, they serve a good purpose.

Thou shall pick and choose - This one's a little tough to swallow.  I can't totally buy Jacob's image of "cafeteria religion;" a buffet line where you grab a little bit of this and that; whatever your taste buds desire at the moment.  I don't think that's the way it works.  But he hits the nail on the head when he says you can't follow everything in the Bible.  Inevitably, we wind up picking and choosing, whether we admit it or not.  The key, Jacobs says, is choosing the right things to follow.  I'd clarify that a bit more to say that the task of the faithful is to look for the "common threads" that run throughout the scriptures - not only in the books of the law, but in stories of the Old Testament, the prophets, the writings, the life of Jesus, and the words of the early church.  And when we focus on those common threads that tie them all together - rather than extracting an obscure verse or two here and there - I'd say we do the best job we can of "living biblically."

Like I said, I can't agree with everything A.J. Jacobs says. But he does get the wheels turning and us thinking about what we believe and why.  And that certainly can't be a bad thing.