I was recently surprised to find multiple racist comments or conversation on my facebook feed during a single morning.
One conversation was in response to a black man who was upset that a restaurant server set their customer name to "5 black guys," and this name showed up on their receipt at the end of their meal. The original poster wanted to bring some attention to a subtle racist act. While I could rationalize the server's intentions, there is still a small hint of black racism in this story. But more shocking were the comments: 3 in a row who chose to demean the original poster, claiming not only that he was unreasonably offended, but that racism isn't even an issue in the US anymore. I was shocked by this, and I didn't even know how to respond.
Another was a shared article by a friend who sides with the political far right. The article discussed in length the extent of black violent crimes in the US. It cited statistics (mostly skewed or spun) that seemed to support an apparent epidemic of black violent crimes. Moreso, the author was not bashful in making his purpose known: that the country should do more to punish black crimes.
When sharing this experience with a coworker, I was shown a piece of racist writing that was even more alarming. A nearby local paper published a letter to the editor that was written in response to Black History Month. The writer not only asks for a White History Month, but lists her reasons why whites deserve recognition. The list includes white charity work to benefit poor black people, white graduation and crime rates as compared to black, and the simple fact that we brought 600,000 black people to the US in the slave trade, allowing them to live good, free, Christian lives in the US. Amazingly, this person let her name and hometown be published with the letter, leaving me to wonder how much self control will have be summoned by her readers to keep her house and safety intact in the coming weeks.
When considering these scenarios together, I find a common thread, but it's nothing new or groundbreaking. The common assumption between the three stories lies in the racial stereotypes that are so ingrained in our culture. We've come to believe that a long list of positive traits are naturally attributed to white people, and a long list of negative traits are naturally attributed to black people (or any minority race). Don't believe it? Follow the link below to a Harvard study, based on a similar groundbreaking study developed by Berkeley about 10 years ago. According to Berkeley's original results, even black people are more likely to show black racist tendencies through this study. Give it a shot!
https://implicit.harvard.edu/implicit/selectatest.html
(Select Race IAT)
The study measures how quickly your brain associates white/good and black/bad, as opposed to white/bad and black/good. Rather than testing your thoughtful reactions (every question has a clear correct answer), it measures your gut instinct. When the study was first released, we finally had clear evidence of how far racial stereotypes have ingrained themselves in our society. We had evidence that racism didn't disappear after the civil rights movement lead by icons such as Martin Luther King, Jr.
No, racism has just taken a more subtle role in our society. Rather than seeing communities with full racial segregation, we see neighborhoods that attract specific races, or companies that tend to employee one race of another. Friendships tend to be mono-racial because of the prevalent instinctual divide. An irrational fear or judgment against a particular skin tone or race often prevents any level of open, honest connection between people of different races.
What really surprised me about the situations described above was that each one included claims that racism is dead. In some situations, the comment chastised the original storyteller for turning something into a racism issue. In another, the person who shared the news story said he didn't even notice the message of racism The white community, in most cases, doesn't notice or consider racism. I can personally attest to this, as I feel I've only become truly aware of the magnitude of racism in the last year.
I've come to believe that our adopted child will most likely be black, or at least racially different from us. As I've dreamed about this scenario, I've become more intentional about eradicating racism from my life. Recently, I've even noticed hints of protective fatherly rage in my reactions.
The big question for me: how do I react to racism?
First, I need to intentionally bridge the gap in my own life. I need to check my tone and my instincts, and make sure I show the same openness and friendliness to everyone, especially people of other races. I need to work on my relationships with my black friends as much as I do with my white friends. I need to show intentional goodwill to the point that my instincts change, and I no longer have racism ingrained in my reactions.
Second, I need to foster change in the world around me. While racism isn't as rampant as it once was, it still lurks dangerously below the surface of our society. As the old saying goes, "the Devil's biggest trick was making us believe he doesn't exist." The problem is out there, and we as a society (especially white society) need to acknowledge it before we can solve it.
We all should respond to acts of racism with love and empathy, all the while edifying a different-yet-equal community. We need to promote black history, latino culture, and asian heritage as a great part of peoples' ancestry, and we need to acknowledge the dark marks on white history, like black slavery, Japanese internment camps, and the trail of tears, which tore us apart at the seams of racial separation. We need to stop identifying each other solely by what makes us different, but we also need to embrace our differences. Just like a strong marriage, the joining of our differences can bring about a greatness that we could never reach alone.
I ask one thing of my readers today: Admit the existence of racism in America, and confess your part to the problem.
I am a white man in a racist nation. I have taken on the racist identity of our country. I am part of the problem. Now, I choose to be part of the solution.
Always moving forward,
Tyler
Monday, April 15, 2013
Thursday, April 11, 2013
My Lack of Productivity
Early in my Journal, I wrote often about our adoption process. When I made my first post, we were a week away from submitting our application, and we're just now getting our seminar scheduled before we move on to our home study, so it's been on my mind often. We're in a little bit of a waiting phase, but something else has brought my attention strongly back to the subject.
While discussing Prop 8 and DOMA with friends, one of the age-old arguments against homosexuality was brought up. It centers around the idea of an "unproductive" relationship, one that doesn't procreate. Of course, the argument states that the reason for romantic relationships is procreation through sex, and a homosexual relationship has no chance of reaching this goal. There are plenty of rebuttals to this argument, some involving an "overpopulated" planet, or at least one where humans aren't struggling to survive as a species anymore. Others boil the issue down to biological processes, that while those processes evolved to meet the needs of a growing species, "survival of the fittest" is no longer a significant factor in human survival.
Either side may be logically correct here, but it's something else entirely that cuts to my core. If a homosexual marriage is wrong just because they procreate, then how can my marriage be right?
I've told the story before, but in short, I have a fertility issue. My wife would probably tell you that "we" have a fertility issue, but according to the medical tests it's all on me. Something went wrong to the point where I have little-to-no chance of becoming a biological father. Sure, we could spend tens of thousands of dollars to let the doctor try to help, but even that would put us against tough odds. When it comes down to it, I am the causing factor of an "unproductive" marriage.
In the older days (even currently, to an extent), there was an assumption that women were the cause of all fertility issues. It's unfortunate and unfair. In the early days of the bible, stories were told about the Father of Nations sleeping with his wife's maid (on his wife's suggestion), because he hadn't conceived a child with his wife. Even Hebrew kings often had multiple wives, and the ones who didn't bear children were usually disgraced. The more medicine has explored the world of infertility, the more we've understood that the issue isn't gender specific at all! In fact, the current estimates indicate that about 1/3 of infertility is caused by the male, 1/3 by the female, and 1/3 by a joint issue.
In my infertility journey, I've come to empathize with the women who have taken the short end of this stick over the ages. First of all, I don't agree with placing blame on people for their medical issues, but more importantly, I hate that women have taken near 100% of the "blame" when only 1/3 of the time it was actually their "fault!" I'm amazed at the character of women, who sat quietly submissive, showing themselves as the bigger person over and over again while the world put them down. It adds a new level of respect for the gender as a whole.
Now, I see my struggle with infertility projected on the gay community. People proclaiming that because they can't have a biological child with the love of their life, their relationship is unimportant. Irrelevant. Wrong.
During our pursuits of adoption, we've taken interest in the adoption stories of others. Some of these involve same-sex adoptive parents. We've learned that our adoption agency, and many other faith based agencies, do not accept same-sex couples into their program. Maybe they see this issue similar to adopting out to active alcoholics or drug users, or maybe something like adopting out to a couple in which one spouse is always in and out of prison. They view any of these as a lifestyle of sin, and they decide it isn't a healthy place to raise a child. But there's a problem with this perspective.
These other issues keep a parent from spending quality time with their child, or even put the child in harm's way. Abusive alcoholics may cause harm to their child. Drug addicts can lose their sobriety and become neglectful. An imprisoned parent won't have time to spend with their child. But being gay doesn't reduce the effectiveness of a parent, does it?
For the sake of argument, let's just assume that it is a sin (see previous posts for my opinion on this subject). Any parent is imperfect. I know I have my flaws, and I shudder to think that my flaws will somehow rub off on my children. But I know they will, because that's part of parenting. I can try to be perfect every day, but my bad habits, my screw ups, and my bad days will be noticed by my kids, and they will cause my children some amount of pain. Unfortunately, this is true for every parent in the world.
So how do you choose who is good enough? Do you draw a line in the sand and exclude anyone who crosses it? Or do you write in the sand as Jesus did, standing up for people like me, screw ups and all?
From my experiences, I believe that any couple who is willing to spend the time, money, and emotional energy to pursue adoption will be an amazing parent regardless of their flaws. We will remember the sacrifices we made to become a parent. We will remember the months, even years, of waiting for all the puzzle pieces to fall into place. We will remember the nights we cried, because that child was not yet in our arms. And more days than not, we will channel those memories into the well being of our children.
Yet the line in the sand causes so many same-sex couples pursue adoption with a lawyer instead of an agency. It's harder, the wait is longer, and the finances are much riskier, but it's the only way to reach their dreams. We push these people aside, making them fend for themselves as they pursue their dreams. And we do it all because of who they love.
As the causing member of an "unproductive" marriage, this hurts me. And I hope it changes soon.
Always moving forward,
Tyler
While discussing Prop 8 and DOMA with friends, one of the age-old arguments against homosexuality was brought up. It centers around the idea of an "unproductive" relationship, one that doesn't procreate. Of course, the argument states that the reason for romantic relationships is procreation through sex, and a homosexual relationship has no chance of reaching this goal. There are plenty of rebuttals to this argument, some involving an "overpopulated" planet, or at least one where humans aren't struggling to survive as a species anymore. Others boil the issue down to biological processes, that while those processes evolved to meet the needs of a growing species, "survival of the fittest" is no longer a significant factor in human survival.
Either side may be logically correct here, but it's something else entirely that cuts to my core. If a homosexual marriage is wrong just because they procreate, then how can my marriage be right?
I've told the story before, but in short, I have a fertility issue. My wife would probably tell you that "we" have a fertility issue, but according to the medical tests it's all on me. Something went wrong to the point where I have little-to-no chance of becoming a biological father. Sure, we could spend tens of thousands of dollars to let the doctor try to help, but even that would put us against tough odds. When it comes down to it, I am the causing factor of an "unproductive" marriage.
In the older days (even currently, to an extent), there was an assumption that women were the cause of all fertility issues. It's unfortunate and unfair. In the early days of the bible, stories were told about the Father of Nations sleeping with his wife's maid (on his wife's suggestion), because he hadn't conceived a child with his wife. Even Hebrew kings often had multiple wives, and the ones who didn't bear children were usually disgraced. The more medicine has explored the world of infertility, the more we've understood that the issue isn't gender specific at all! In fact, the current estimates indicate that about 1/3 of infertility is caused by the male, 1/3 by the female, and 1/3 by a joint issue.
In my infertility journey, I've come to empathize with the women who have taken the short end of this stick over the ages. First of all, I don't agree with placing blame on people for their medical issues, but more importantly, I hate that women have taken near 100% of the "blame" when only 1/3 of the time it was actually their "fault!" I'm amazed at the character of women, who sat quietly submissive, showing themselves as the bigger person over and over again while the world put them down. It adds a new level of respect for the gender as a whole.
Now, I see my struggle with infertility projected on the gay community. People proclaiming that because they can't have a biological child with the love of their life, their relationship is unimportant. Irrelevant. Wrong.
During our pursuits of adoption, we've taken interest in the adoption stories of others. Some of these involve same-sex adoptive parents. We've learned that our adoption agency, and many other faith based agencies, do not accept same-sex couples into their program. Maybe they see this issue similar to adopting out to active alcoholics or drug users, or maybe something like adopting out to a couple in which one spouse is always in and out of prison. They view any of these as a lifestyle of sin, and they decide it isn't a healthy place to raise a child. But there's a problem with this perspective.
These other issues keep a parent from spending quality time with their child, or even put the child in harm's way. Abusive alcoholics may cause harm to their child. Drug addicts can lose their sobriety and become neglectful. An imprisoned parent won't have time to spend with their child. But being gay doesn't reduce the effectiveness of a parent, does it?
For the sake of argument, let's just assume that it is a sin (see previous posts for my opinion on this subject). Any parent is imperfect. I know I have my flaws, and I shudder to think that my flaws will somehow rub off on my children. But I know they will, because that's part of parenting. I can try to be perfect every day, but my bad habits, my screw ups, and my bad days will be noticed by my kids, and they will cause my children some amount of pain. Unfortunately, this is true for every parent in the world.
So how do you choose who is good enough? Do you draw a line in the sand and exclude anyone who crosses it? Or do you write in the sand as Jesus did, standing up for people like me, screw ups and all?
From my experiences, I believe that any couple who is willing to spend the time, money, and emotional energy to pursue adoption will be an amazing parent regardless of their flaws. We will remember the sacrifices we made to become a parent. We will remember the months, even years, of waiting for all the puzzle pieces to fall into place. We will remember the nights we cried, because that child was not yet in our arms. And more days than not, we will channel those memories into the well being of our children.
Yet the line in the sand causes so many same-sex couples pursue adoption with a lawyer instead of an agency. It's harder, the wait is longer, and the finances are much riskier, but it's the only way to reach their dreams. We push these people aside, making them fend for themselves as they pursue their dreams. And we do it all because of who they love.
As the causing member of an "unproductive" marriage, this hurts me. And I hope it changes soon.
Always moving forward,
Tyler
Monday, April 8, 2013
I Wonder
As I've discussed in a couple of my recent posts, I've taken part in some lively debates in recent weeks. Anytime I end up in one of these, whether I'm the one who started the discussion or I've stumbled into it after several people have taken sides and voiced their opinions, I have the same gut reaction: I have to find the common ground!
I still explore my beliefs on the subject and take a position, but for the sake of a fruitful debate, my heart wants to find the point where we all agree. If I manage to find it, I try to view both points from the perspective of the common point. Sometimes, I'll even go to the point of explaining both points from that common perspective in the hopes that both sides will experience empathy toward each other. In my best-case-scenario, we would end up with a win-win situation, where each person can edify the other's beliefs, or even reach a comprimise.
Too often, debates don't ever reach this point. It breaks my heart when this happens, especially when debates end so badly that grudges are held. Recently, I've been disappointed by the result of debates more often than not.
Like many of my other gut instincts, I've experienced this need to find common ground for many years, but I haven't been able to define it. A few days ago, a large aspect of this was defined for me.
I've said it before, but I'll say it again. I am extremely lucky to be brought up the way I was. My parents were and are strong Christians, and they raised my brother and I to always learn and grow in all aspects of our life. Right now, I can see 2 major benefits of my upbringing.
First, I seem to have pretty good instincts. Because of the principals that were ingrained into me by my parents, and because of the relationship with the Holy Spirit that I was taught to nurture, I have learned to be confident in these instincts. I don't say this to brag, especially because this isn't anything I created in myself, or through any of my own efforts. But I've noticed that when I instinctively know what is right and wrong, and when I pray through the journey of acting on these instincts, they take me somewhere better than where I was. It helps me to trust that I'm on the right track, even when I can't see all of the road signs
Second, I'm not alone in my identity as a Dawson. I have an older brother who is a lot like me. We have different jobs and different hobbies, but we have this amazing connection. When we sit in a room and discuss something we're both interested in, I feel this synergy. We have the same principals and the same moral code, so similar that I haven't experienced this close a connection with anyone else, and we have the same way of wondering about the unknowns in our world.
Since I'm the younger brother, he always operated at a maturity level higher than mine. Of course, this gap gets smaller as we get older, but the differences between us have also become more defined. He went to college for a ministry degree, studying scripture and doctrines to get to the root of the issues of faith we all struggle with. He will admit before anyone that he doesn't have it all figured out, but he has this vocabulary, this way of expressing himself that exceeds anything I have within me.
A few days ago, he defined some of my instincts in one of his own posts. He defined our sense of wonder in the world. He defined this ingrained desire to explore the unknown, to find answers, to see the world through new eyes. He defined what I feel when I explore, whether it's a mountain trail or a political road fraught with potholes.
This wonder is an amazing part of my character that The Creator set up in me, and that my parents brought out in me. I've learned that this is why my heart breaks when people refuse to look at the world through someone else's eyes, or chooses to assert their opinions instead of asking questions of others. I want my sense of wonder to rub off on someone, the way it was rubbed off on me. I want people to experience the childlike joy found in a spirit of curiosity.
I'll leave you with a quote from my brother's post, which sums up my thoughts better than I ever could:
I wonder...
Always moving forward,
Tyler
P.S.: The full blog post referenced today can be found at http://aaroniswondering.blogspot.com/2013/04/introduction-big-blue-chairs.html
I still explore my beliefs on the subject and take a position, but for the sake of a fruitful debate, my heart wants to find the point where we all agree. If I manage to find it, I try to view both points from the perspective of the common point. Sometimes, I'll even go to the point of explaining both points from that common perspective in the hopes that both sides will experience empathy toward each other. In my best-case-scenario, we would end up with a win-win situation, where each person can edify the other's beliefs, or even reach a comprimise.
Too often, debates don't ever reach this point. It breaks my heart when this happens, especially when debates end so badly that grudges are held. Recently, I've been disappointed by the result of debates more often than not.
Like many of my other gut instincts, I've experienced this need to find common ground for many years, but I haven't been able to define it. A few days ago, a large aspect of this was defined for me.
I've said it before, but I'll say it again. I am extremely lucky to be brought up the way I was. My parents were and are strong Christians, and they raised my brother and I to always learn and grow in all aspects of our life. Right now, I can see 2 major benefits of my upbringing.
First, I seem to have pretty good instincts. Because of the principals that were ingrained into me by my parents, and because of the relationship with the Holy Spirit that I was taught to nurture, I have learned to be confident in these instincts. I don't say this to brag, especially because this isn't anything I created in myself, or through any of my own efforts. But I've noticed that when I instinctively know what is right and wrong, and when I pray through the journey of acting on these instincts, they take me somewhere better than where I was. It helps me to trust that I'm on the right track, even when I can't see all of the road signs
Second, I'm not alone in my identity as a Dawson. I have an older brother who is a lot like me. We have different jobs and different hobbies, but we have this amazing connection. When we sit in a room and discuss something we're both interested in, I feel this synergy. We have the same principals and the same moral code, so similar that I haven't experienced this close a connection with anyone else, and we have the same way of wondering about the unknowns in our world.
Since I'm the younger brother, he always operated at a maturity level higher than mine. Of course, this gap gets smaller as we get older, but the differences between us have also become more defined. He went to college for a ministry degree, studying scripture and doctrines to get to the root of the issues of faith we all struggle with. He will admit before anyone that he doesn't have it all figured out, but he has this vocabulary, this way of expressing himself that exceeds anything I have within me.
A few days ago, he defined some of my instincts in one of his own posts. He defined our sense of wonder in the world. He defined this ingrained desire to explore the unknown, to find answers, to see the world through new eyes. He defined what I feel when I explore, whether it's a mountain trail or a political road fraught with potholes.
This wonder is an amazing part of my character that The Creator set up in me, and that my parents brought out in me. I've learned that this is why my heart breaks when people refuse to look at the world through someone else's eyes, or chooses to assert their opinions instead of asking questions of others. I want my sense of wonder to rub off on someone, the way it was rubbed off on me. I want people to experience the childlike joy found in a spirit of curiosity.
I'll leave you with a quote from my brother's post, which sums up my thoughts better than I ever could:
"Jesus said something I've not been able to get out of my head for a few years now: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 18:3). I don't think "become like little children" means going back to a day when someone else zips your jacket and wipes your nose. I think Jesus has something else in mind. When I look at [my daughter], I see so many things I've lost as I've grown up. Now, I can't help but think as I watch her everyday: What if reclaiming our childlike wonder is the true foundation of life under Christ?"
I wonder...
Always moving forward,
Tyler
P.S.: The full blog post referenced today can be found at http://aaroniswondering.blogspot.com/2013/04/introduction-big-blue-chairs.html
Friday, April 5, 2013
A Public Apology to Anyone
During the last few weeks, there's been a lot of talk around the country regarding the rights, status, and morality of a particular group of people. I wrote about this topic recently, and it spurred even more discussion.
Some of these discussions were very fruitful, involving 2 or more people who just wanted to understand each other. No arguing, no blaming, just talk. I was even pleasantly surprised that an old friend used the topic to ask for some personal advice about a difficult situation. I don't know how helpful I was in answering their questions, but I was glad to know that we shared a respect that led us toward mutual edification, even in light of our differing beliefs.
I love to be a part of discussions like this. It makes me feel like I'm part of something bigger than myself. Like I'm not just an individual living life for myself. It makes me feel like I'm part of a movement. And when those movements meet my ideology (whether biblical, ethical, or political), it feels like the most important movement in the world.
But I have a problem. In the same way an addict seeks the next thrill, I have a tendency to seek out the next big movement and make myself a part of it. While there's nothing wrong with being part of an important movement, pushing yourself into a movement before you fully understand its direction can be detrimental.
I've never been a part of a picketing or rioting event, but I tend to lobby through my words. That's quite obvious in this setting, but I also gravitate toward message boards or facebook discussions, and lately I've spent a lot of time in the latter.
In the past, I've been so drawn into discussions on a topic that I wrote solely out of emotion. That's not to say that emotion in writing is bad (quite the opposite!), but to exclude the logical or faithful side of your thoughts is to leave yourself with empty rhetoric or worse. In some cases I found myself wanting to push the envelope so badly that I found myself arguing points that even I didn't believe.
In the last couple of weeks, I think I made a similar mistake. To be clear, my post entitled Coming Out remains valid. I also defend the points I made in online discussions during the next few days. But the way I expressed them was wrong.
The more I wrote and read about whether the lifestyles of a particular group were right or wrong, the dirtier I felt for discussing this issue so publicly.
I believe that issues such as prejudice and equality should be brought to the public, but I think I crossed a line. I was spending less time defending the rights to equal treatment and more time debating the morality of their actions. I wanted to blame my opposition as being too judgmental, but I realized that I wasn't any better. Whether I thought they were right or wrong. I was still standing in judgment of their actions, as if I held any authority to judge.
So, I hope I didn't offend anyone in my public discussions about homosexuality. If I did, I am truly sorry. I want to love my neighbor, whether they be racially, financially, geographically, or sexually different than me, and especially if they're imperfect like me. And I want to give my neighbors the respect they deserve, and a part of that respect is to observe the boundaries of friendship. I'm sorry if I crossed those boundaries.
While my actions crossed lines, I have learned that my beliefs on this topic are important. I believe I have found the heart of Christ in this issue, and I need to follow His example of loving the marginalized in my community. I think my next step is to learn how to be an activist without becoming judgmental. As always, I invite any accountability my readers have to offer.
Always moving forward,
Tyler
Some of these discussions were very fruitful, involving 2 or more people who just wanted to understand each other. No arguing, no blaming, just talk. I was even pleasantly surprised that an old friend used the topic to ask for some personal advice about a difficult situation. I don't know how helpful I was in answering their questions, but I was glad to know that we shared a respect that led us toward mutual edification, even in light of our differing beliefs.
I love to be a part of discussions like this. It makes me feel like I'm part of something bigger than myself. Like I'm not just an individual living life for myself. It makes me feel like I'm part of a movement. And when those movements meet my ideology (whether biblical, ethical, or political), it feels like the most important movement in the world.
But I have a problem. In the same way an addict seeks the next thrill, I have a tendency to seek out the next big movement and make myself a part of it. While there's nothing wrong with being part of an important movement, pushing yourself into a movement before you fully understand its direction can be detrimental.
I've never been a part of a picketing or rioting event, but I tend to lobby through my words. That's quite obvious in this setting, but I also gravitate toward message boards or facebook discussions, and lately I've spent a lot of time in the latter.
In the past, I've been so drawn into discussions on a topic that I wrote solely out of emotion. That's not to say that emotion in writing is bad (quite the opposite!), but to exclude the logical or faithful side of your thoughts is to leave yourself with empty rhetoric or worse. In some cases I found myself wanting to push the envelope so badly that I found myself arguing points that even I didn't believe.
In the last couple of weeks, I think I made a similar mistake. To be clear, my post entitled Coming Out remains valid. I also defend the points I made in online discussions during the next few days. But the way I expressed them was wrong.
The more I wrote and read about whether the lifestyles of a particular group were right or wrong, the dirtier I felt for discussing this issue so publicly.
I believe that issues such as prejudice and equality should be brought to the public, but I think I crossed a line. I was spending less time defending the rights to equal treatment and more time debating the morality of their actions. I wanted to blame my opposition as being too judgmental, but I realized that I wasn't any better. Whether I thought they were right or wrong. I was still standing in judgment of their actions, as if I held any authority to judge.
So, I hope I didn't offend anyone in my public discussions about homosexuality. If I did, I am truly sorry. I want to love my neighbor, whether they be racially, financially, geographically, or sexually different than me, and especially if they're imperfect like me. And I want to give my neighbors the respect they deserve, and a part of that respect is to observe the boundaries of friendship. I'm sorry if I crossed those boundaries.
While my actions crossed lines, I have learned that my beliefs on this topic are important. I believe I have found the heart of Christ in this issue, and I need to follow His example of loving the marginalized in my community. I think my next step is to learn how to be an activist without becoming judgmental. As always, I invite any accountability my readers have to offer.
Always moving forward,
Tyler
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
My Crisis of Faith - part 3
Continuing on the same path of a few recent posts, I want to be open about another struggle in my faith. I've found there's healing in this, not only for me, but possibly for people reading this who share the same struggles.
I have to admit that I don't pray or read the Bible near as much as I should.
I feel a bit odd making an entire post about this, because this seems to be the most common source of guilt for Christians. I don't hear it all that often, since people tend not to air out their problems on a daily basis, but I can remember hearing it often enough.
Usually it's in the scenario of someone asking a church group for a hand raise if they think they pray enough, others are in writings from counselors who posed the question individually to many people. They always say they get the same response. Hands aren't raised, individuals express guilt that they fall short of the mark, and a face full of shame always accompanies the answer.
And the same goes for reading the Bible. Much too often, Christians fall out of the habit of studying the instruction book for our faith. We'll attend church services, talk to friends about this week's sermon, and admit our faith to the world, but this seemingly essential piece of the puzzle goes missing.
A couple years ago, my wife decided to get a 1-year study bible. It's a Eugene Peterson publication that has The Message chopped up into daily chunks. Every day, you get a little Old Testament and a little New Testament. Each book has a blurb about its importance in the big story, and every 7th day has a single paragraph suggesting something for you to pray on and meditate about as a way to rest from the week's study.
I started reading it occasionally, starting from the very beginning with the books of Genesis and John. Later that year, I began commuting on public transit, so finding study time became easier. I even had time to catch up on a couple days all at once when I fell behind. I was on this schedule for most of a year, but still I didn't make it through the study.
Since then, I've had more time at home than I've had since college. You would think I would catch up on my bible study, spend time reading and praying in the morning now that I left the house about an hour later than before. You would think that, but unfortunately you couldn't be farther from the truth.
Not only have I severely cut back on the time I spend reading for pleasure (I think I've finished 5 books during this year), I've barely picked up the study Bible. When I do, I tend to keep it up for a couple of days before I wake up late, rush through a shower, barely have time to wait for coffee to brew, and run out the door. I end up right back at square one.
The story isn't as structured, but the same goes for prayer. I like to pray in bed before we turn out the lights. I don't fall asleep during prayers, but I tend to drift off and get sidetracked thinking about other things. When I first wake up, I haven't thought through my day enough to organize my brain. So, I hold off my big prayer til the end of the day, and more often than not I forget about it. And when you don't pray every day, I forget to pray about the little things that come up, like a tough project at work, health issues with my friends and family, or just a waive of gratitude about something good in my life.
I should probably feel better about this knowing that so many Christians have the same struggles, but I can't help but see the outliers. People like my dad, who I remember seeing at least once a week at the breakfast table with his study bible and a notepad during my childhood years, never expecting to be noticed. People like my friends with their new baby girl, who I hear talk faithfully about what they read or prayed about the other day, accidentally letting me in on their habits of faith. People like my Facebook friends, who post scripture references on almost a daily basis, making me realize how some people live their lives completely focused on the word of God.
These are just outward signs of a private habit. A habit I wish I had. A practice I wish I was better at.
While it might not seem like it, this journal is about more than words. It's about me being honest with myself about myself, and it's about mapping my journey toward a better me. So today, I'm giving myself a goal. No, I'm making myself a promise.
Today, I am on day 265 of my 365 day study. 100 days from now, I will finish what I started 2 years ago. Not because I need a goal, but because this goal is important. I need to be a better man of faith. I need to lead my family more strongly. I need my children to see me at the breakfast table showing them what a faithful Christian looks like.
Always moving forward,
Tyler
I have to admit that I don't pray or read the Bible near as much as I should.
I feel a bit odd making an entire post about this, because this seems to be the most common source of guilt for Christians. I don't hear it all that often, since people tend not to air out their problems on a daily basis, but I can remember hearing it often enough.
Usually it's in the scenario of someone asking a church group for a hand raise if they think they pray enough, others are in writings from counselors who posed the question individually to many people. They always say they get the same response. Hands aren't raised, individuals express guilt that they fall short of the mark, and a face full of shame always accompanies the answer.
And the same goes for reading the Bible. Much too often, Christians fall out of the habit of studying the instruction book for our faith. We'll attend church services, talk to friends about this week's sermon, and admit our faith to the world, but this seemingly essential piece of the puzzle goes missing.
A couple years ago, my wife decided to get a 1-year study bible. It's a Eugene Peterson publication that has The Message chopped up into daily chunks. Every day, you get a little Old Testament and a little New Testament. Each book has a blurb about its importance in the big story, and every 7th day has a single paragraph suggesting something for you to pray on and meditate about as a way to rest from the week's study.
I started reading it occasionally, starting from the very beginning with the books of Genesis and John. Later that year, I began commuting on public transit, so finding study time became easier. I even had time to catch up on a couple days all at once when I fell behind. I was on this schedule for most of a year, but still I didn't make it through the study.
Since then, I've had more time at home than I've had since college. You would think I would catch up on my bible study, spend time reading and praying in the morning now that I left the house about an hour later than before. You would think that, but unfortunately you couldn't be farther from the truth.
Not only have I severely cut back on the time I spend reading for pleasure (I think I've finished 5 books during this year), I've barely picked up the study Bible. When I do, I tend to keep it up for a couple of days before I wake up late, rush through a shower, barely have time to wait for coffee to brew, and run out the door. I end up right back at square one.
The story isn't as structured, but the same goes for prayer. I like to pray in bed before we turn out the lights. I don't fall asleep during prayers, but I tend to drift off and get sidetracked thinking about other things. When I first wake up, I haven't thought through my day enough to organize my brain. So, I hold off my big prayer til the end of the day, and more often than not I forget about it. And when you don't pray every day, I forget to pray about the little things that come up, like a tough project at work, health issues with my friends and family, or just a waive of gratitude about something good in my life.
I should probably feel better about this knowing that so many Christians have the same struggles, but I can't help but see the outliers. People like my dad, who I remember seeing at least once a week at the breakfast table with his study bible and a notepad during my childhood years, never expecting to be noticed. People like my friends with their new baby girl, who I hear talk faithfully about what they read or prayed about the other day, accidentally letting me in on their habits of faith. People like my Facebook friends, who post scripture references on almost a daily basis, making me realize how some people live their lives completely focused on the word of God.
These are just outward signs of a private habit. A habit I wish I had. A practice I wish I was better at.
While it might not seem like it, this journal is about more than words. It's about me being honest with myself about myself, and it's about mapping my journey toward a better me. So today, I'm giving myself a goal. No, I'm making myself a promise.
Today, I am on day 265 of my 365 day study. 100 days from now, I will finish what I started 2 years ago. Not because I need a goal, but because this goal is important. I need to be a better man of faith. I need to lead my family more strongly. I need my children to see me at the breakfast table showing them what a faithful Christian looks like.
Always moving forward,
Tyler
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