Stop the Band, Kill the Noise

“Smeagol isn’t listening! Not listening! My preciousssssss…”

About every six months or so, I get awfully tempted to become a real blogger, the kind that generates thousands of daily hits and tons of followers on Twitter. I make a deal with myself to sit down and craft content that will draw eyes and ire, generate reblogs and rebukes, and just in general put my name on the minds of people who troll/scour the Internet looking for that sort of engagement. I tell myself it’ll be easy – two to three times a day, I’ll post a list of things that are wrong with the church, or I’ll attack a strawman argument on a hot political issue, or I’ll wade back into one of the denominational war zones that always draw attention and alarm from the masses.

I plan all of this, and I’ll even give it a go for a couple of posts, and inevitably, it falls by the wayside. I can’t do it. I can’t keep up. My brain simply can’t conceive of a way to keep writing about the same things in the same ways over and over again.

Apparently I’m neither creative nor outraged enough.

Regardless – whether my lack of imagination or indignation – I have recently begun to marvel at those who can crank out that kind of content on a regular basis. My Twitter feed is filled with such people; I can’t refresh my feed without someone new posting a blog about 5 Reasons the Resurrection Is Absolutely, Positively REAL or 10 Secrets to a Dynamic Church or 39 Things You Must Do To Make Jesus Happy or Else He’ll Revoke Your Salvation.

(I’m kidding about that last one. Kind of.)

There’s one particular gentleman that I follow that posts links and blogs like that non-stop everyday. I know he’s not writing all of those posts himself, but I am utterly gobsmacked at the fact that he does write an awful lot. And they’re usually good. Some quite so.

Writers like that simultaneously inspire and deflate me. Inspire, because I love the fact that they sit at their keyboard and let the ideas flow down like mercy. Deflate, because so often those ideas are either recycled or reheated. They don’t add much new to the conversation.

I know, I know – there’s nothing new under the sun. Heck, even what I attempt to do here is admittedly what another writer did to far better effect. But what I always try to do is to make whatever I write in my voice, in my honest voice. I fail sometimes; there are occasions when I get up on a high horse and either try to sound smarter than I really am, or try to write with an authority I don’t possess, and when those occasions come along, I am reminded over and over again why I don’t write like that all the time.

Because it’s not me.

So why am I bringing all of this up? Lately, it seems like I’m drowning in noise, endless, repetitive noise. The same people clanging the same gongs for the same audience. Mostly, these posts are on some political or cultural issue, and they only exist to get someone’s dander up, or undies bunched, or pick another metaphor for useless agitation. The same medium through which I find my greatest outlet of expression – blogging – is the one that allows untold others to beat our collective cultural dead horses again and again, and to present the blogs on those poor, flagellated equine corpses as fresh and new and unique, when really they are none of those things.

And this harsh rehashing of the yada-yada-yada isn’t confined to one particular spectrum of the web; it’s not just the church people who do it; it’s not just the liberal media; it’s not just the fringe wackos or reality stars or any other specific class of people. It’s all of us. All of us. Adding to the noise, transferring information because we can, not because it’s needed. Even the very words I’m typing – noise, noise, noise. For some reason, today, it’s exhausting.

It creates a sense that the world will always be irretrievably broken, but if we try just that much harder, we can fix it – yes, we can! If we can get rid of the fundies, the gays, the illegals, the GOP, the Dems, the rednecks, the hippies, the commies, the druggies, the libs, the unenlightened, and the downright socially awkward, then we can all live in the glorious utopia that Our Forefathers first envisioned when they arrived on this fair continent and poisoned the Native Americans after swindling them out of their land.

Ugh. Just make the voices stop, Brain. If you don’t, I’ll stab you with a Q-Tip.

So what’s the take away? What do we do? Personally, I’m culling my Twitter feed, starting today. I’m getting rid of all the counterfeit voices, the people who simply channel the outrage of others without contributing thought themselves. I’m going to delete the emails that merely generate sound and fury. I’m going to hide the Facebook friends who only share tiresome photos and memes from random quasi-political groups.

And I’m quite sure that there will be people who decide to delete this post – and any of my subsequent posts – from their information flow. I can live with that. My style isn’t for everyone, and that’s fine by me.

Today’s just one of those days to take a stand against the people who want to manipulate us with fear or anger or both. I’m not gonna dance to their tune anymore. I’m stopping the band, and killing the noise.

Hopefully, it will give me more time for my own voice.

Yours too.

What I Consider Worthless

“But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him.”

- Philippians 3:6-9a

I have the opportunity to speak this coming Sunday at my church, Chestnut Grove Baptist Church in Grayson, Georgia. It’s the first time that I’ve ever had the opportunity to preach before a presidential election, and as things work out, this one is a pretty close – and intense – contest. The rhetoric has been at high levels (even if curtailed the past few days in the wake of Superstorm Sandy), and the emotions have been even higher. I’ve had to hide numerous Facebook friends and delete untold number of emails for the simple reason that people are so passionate about this election they have put everything else to the side.

Only this Tuesday matters.

I believe in the political process of our nation. I went and voted early yesterday, casting my vote for president and the other offices open for election, along with the two constitutional amendments on the ballot in Georgia. I stood in a 45 minute line for the chance to take five minutes to vote. Then, I got a sticker and a sense of participatory glee.

But the entire time, all I could think was, “This really doesn’t matter. Not at all.”

Barack Obama and Joe Biden. Mitt Romney and Paul Ryan. Gary Johnson and Whoever-is-Gary-Johnson’s-running-mate. It all works out the same.

And suddenly I realized: This is worthless. And that’s good.

No, this isn’t some cynical, apathetic, all-politicians-are-crooks-so-what’s-the-point? diatribe. Rather, this is the result of a principled re-thinking of life. God has been dealing with me about where my allegiances fall as of late, and I’m afraid that too often they fall inside this temporary sphere, far short of where they belong. See, I all too often think that my hard work, my vote, my job, my beliefs, my thinking, my talents, my whatever, will be enough to secure me a fair living in this world. And I’m not just talking about money; I’m talking about a life that’s fair, that’s free from trouble or injustice or hurt. I put my trust in the things that I know and control; that have personal or religious value to me; that have proven to be reliable over time.

Which means I neglect to put my trust in God.

I’m not the only one that does this. An alarming number of people say they trust God but put that trust almost exclusively into something else. Be it mutual funds or non-profit organizations, we get so passionate about certain things that we think will make a difference. And the sad reality is that, while those things aren’t bad in and of themselves, it’s the misplacing of our passion that leads to them becoming idols. Sometimes it seems like we put our faith so heavily into these things because we don’t really have faith in God; neither in His ability to work in our lives or (maybe) in His actual existence.

This election has really brought it to the fore in my eyes. It’s almost comical to realize the number of Christians who are advocating for a presidential candidate on the basis of that candidate’s ability to change things or restore America or make us a better nation. We’re not touting these men on political terms; we’re touting them in salvific terms, hailing them as if they were capable of doing things to change hearts and minds instead of opinions. What we are saying, whether we realize it or not, is that one of these men will be the one who will deliver us from our fallen world.

But it is not Barack Obama who died for your sins. It’s not Mitt Romney who became your propitiation.

That role and that honor belongs only to Jesus Christ, the one and only Son of God. It is in Him that this world finds its salvation and redemption, its hope and future. And it is in Him alone that these things are found.

That’s why the Apostle Paul said that he considered his life as “rubbish” (in some translations, “dung”) when compared to Christ. Not his race, or his religion, or his reputation were worth a thing when compared to the Savior. Paul knew that the things that make us human – where we come from, how we were raised, what people think of us – are the very things that separate us from God. And despite his fierce love for each of those things, Paul saw them all as worthless when placed beside the Holy Christ, because it is in Christ that we find life.

It’s understanding that Paul was right in his abandonment of the most powerful things in his human life that drove me to the realization that my vote was worthless. Not because it’s a pointless exercise (to the contrary, I think voting is a powerful privilege), but because compared to Christ, and my hope in Him, my citizenship as an American is less than nothing. Sure, we’re a great nation and I’m glad to be here as opposed to anywhere else, but the truth is I can’t think that my being American is more important than being in Christ. If I really want to call myself His, I have to be willing, as Paul was, to consider that privilege and blessing as dung.

Honestly, I don’t know too many people who are willing to do that. A lot of folks are happier being Christian Americans than American Christians.

Naturally, as is the way with most things mortal, there will be a winner declared on Tuesday. Those who support this person will vindicated. We’ll hear things like “The American people have spoken” or “This a referendum on [the losing party].” Hopefully, you’ll have done your civic and Christian duty and contributed your vote to the process. And when the dust clears and we have four years of whomever, I hope that things do improve for our country. I hope that we can indeed become a stronger, better nation.

But I will put my hope for that transformation in the Gospel of Jesus Christ instead of in the politics of the president. Because as trite as it sounds, one thing has been and always will be true:

Jesus saves.

Amen?

The Sad Truth of November 7th

I usually try and do a journalistic-style lead-in to my blog posts, but today I’m going to cut right to the chase: November 7th is going to be just another day.

There will be no bells ringing, not massive parades through the streets. Taps won’t suddenly flow wine and your food will still taste the same. Despite the heavy rhetoric being tossed about during this campaign season, this election is not going to be the game-changer that many are suggesting. It’s not going to be a referendum on the soul of America, or a statement of our decline. We will elect a president on Tuesday, and on Wednesday life will be just the same.

Because the truth of the matter is, it doesn’t matter who sits in the office of our president. Obama, Romney – it’s all the same. Strip away the policies and ideas, the politics and the branding, the raw mechanics of how our system of government works; take away their distinctives, their histories and their visions, and you arrive at the truth of why the occupant of the Oval Office is of little consequence.

They are human.

Therefore, they will disappoint.

I have been slow to respond to some of the things I’ve seen and read because on the surface it has seemed like so much pointless debate. We can argue policies and points-of-view all day long, and the average person isn’t going to be swayed by all the braying. People vote in their best interests, and will align themselves accordingly. So unless I see an inroad for a little levity, I usually just let things pass.

But the more I read, the more people on both sides seem to be ratcheting up the value placed on this election’s outcome. The clamoring for one side or the other is veering away from the normal political passion and into something deeper, something primal. People are hailing Obama/Biden or Romeny/Ryan as if these men will somehow rescue our nation from a horrible fate, and they are proselytizing for one or the other as if their lives depended on it.

In a time of crisis and confusion, people are looking for someone to set things right. They are looking for the man in the white hat, the hero, the one who can put right what’s been set wrong.

People are looking for a savior.

Here’s where a normal pastor would say, “Now, let me tell you about Jesus, the One True Savior…” Here’s where a normal pastor would tell you about your sinfulness, your inability to set things right by your own effort, your need to accept that atoning death, burial and resurrection of Christ; then a normal pastor would close with a nifty little anecdote to make the point stick in your mind.

But there’s a problem with our need for a savior, and it’s this: too many of us want the savior to do all the heavy lifting. We’re into the idea of being saved as long as we don’t have to change. That’s what makes politics so appealing – we can acknowledge our faults, confess our need for change, throw ourselves at the mercy of a savior, and then sit back and do nothing. We’re into salvation without sacrifice, rescue without repentance.

So we install empty saviors onto the thrones of our hearts, and when they fail us, we shout and scream until the next one comes along. We’re Israel, circa the anointing of Saul. We don’t really want to be saved from our messes; we simply want our messes to not be so messy. We don’t want to live better lives; we simply want our lives to hurt less.

That’s why, when so many people wake up on November 7th, nothing will change. No matter which candidate takes the election, the people of our country will expect them to do the heavy lifting. We’ll sit back and demand that they balance budgets while we keep adding to our credit card bills; we’ll scream for them to fix the healthcare system while we continue to abuse our bodies with food, drugs and inactivity; we’ll rage against the political infighting that prohibits progress from being made while we hold a grudge against our neighbor.

We don’t want salvation. We want a free ride.

And that’s why November 7th will be a sad, empty day: because we’ll delude ourselves into thinking that one little decision will outweigh all our other, destructive ones.

“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing!” – Luke 13:34 (NIV)

Questions I’d Ask During Tonight’s Debate

There’s a presidential debate tonight, in case you didn’t know (which, if you didn’t, what’s it like to live in a world devoid of phones, TV, computers, electricity, and angst? And what, exactly, does it mean to be Amish?). It will be America’s first time to see the two men vying to lead our great nation go head-to-head on domestic policy issues: the economy, healthcare, the role of government, and governing. In the grand tradition of presidential debates, someone is certain to come off like a doofus.

I’m sure that the estimable Jim Lehrer, he who moderates all serious debates, will have done plenty of prep work concerning the questions the candidates will answer. And I’m also sure that both candidates will do their best to try and get some digs in on their opponent, while saying that sound substantive but lack flavor (think of rice cakes; now imagine them as words coming from a person’s mouth). Given both of those things, it’s sure to be a fairly standard debate.

But I don’t want standard. I think we should spice it up. I think we need to throw in questions that no person in their right mind would ask a potential president, questions that cut to the soul of a man and reveal his true mettle.

If I were Jim Lehrer, here’s some questions I’d like answered during tonight’s debate:

• A man lies dead, in a room with no windows and doors. His shirt is wet and bloody. He has been obviously stabbed in the chest, only there are no weapons found in the room. How would you make this the fault of your opponent?
• I’m going to say a word, and I’d like you to give me a five minute, extemporaneous speech based on that word. The word is: lock-box.
• Why do the Oreoes people insist on misspelling the word “Stuft”?
• Iran is on the verge of nuclear capability. Israel is going to nuke the snot out of them before they can activate the bomb. On a scale from 1 to 10, tell me how scared you are of each country, and then tell me where I can find a good Kosher deli in Denver.
• Is has been asserted that you, Mr. Romney, are out of touch with the average American because of your wealth. Mr. Obama, in the office of the president you receive a nice salary, a free house, free travel, free security, free food, free TV coverage, and a bullet-proof office. So, what else do you and Mr. Romney have in common?
• Given what I just said about the presidency, Mr. Romney, how will you handle a downgrade in your living conditions?
• I’m going to say a word and I want you to say the first thing that comes to your mind: strategery.
• Have you ever drank Tab?
• Who’s a better James Bond: Sean Connery or Daniel Craig?
• You have made many promises during this election cycle. If I were to ask your wife how many promises you’ve broken to her, what would her answer be, and which broken promise hurt her the most?
• If you’re elected, would you ever be tempted to just wear gym shorts and a faded Batman t-shirt into the office on a random Monday?
• Your favorite Beatles song. Go.
• Which would you rather eat: fried green tomatoes or boiled okra?
• If you accidentally passed gas during a State of the Union address, would you A) pretend nothing happened; B) blame your Vice-President; C) own up to it by making it into a joke; or D) do whatever the recent polls told you to do.
• What is your favorite Interweb meme?
• Given your access to classified information, if you’re elected president would you finally reveal to the American people which individual or group was responsible for letting the dogs out?
• And finally, gentlemen: if you lose the election in November, will you consider the abuse, speculation, animosity, divisiveness, hatred, screed, and rigmarole heaped upon you, your families and your campaign workers worth it?

Let’s see Jim Lehrer top that.

Thou Shalt Not Send Bogus Emails

Before you hit “Send”, make sure that email’s true!

I have several different email accounts with different providers. I mainly use Google’s Gmail because I like the functionality of it, but I also have a Yahoo! account, a Rocketmail account, and I think I might even still have a Hotmail account floating around somewhere.

But despite the many different accounts, one thing remains constant between them all: the amount of bogus emails I get.

Now, we all have Spam folders in our email accounts, the place where the truly obvious junk mail goes to die. Letters from “friends” stranded in Europe (Jon Acuff has a great blog on this type of email), notes from Kenyan bankers looking to shelter money, or even the classic distant relative leaving you a sizable fortune are all familiar scams. Hopefully, even the most reluctant email user has long-ago learned to just delete and move on.

But there is another form of bogus mail with which I am inundated, and it’s got nothing to do with someones unclaimed millions in a Swiss bank account. It’s the hyper-reactionary political email that, with a couple minutes of Googling, proves to be boldly, wildly untrue.

Now, these types of things have been around forever – and we have Snopes to prove it. But with the 2008 presidential election and the Birther movement, the age of high-paranoia political assassinations arrived in style. Once upon a time, I used to get missives from the GOP; now, as I’ve expanded my reading base considerably, I get paranoid emails from all over the place.

And, me being me, I do the same thing every time: I delete them. Without reading.

Every once in a while, someone will send me something that has a clever subject line that throws me off the scent, and I’m four lines in before I realize I’ve been Rope-a-Doped. But once I realize that it’s just another blown-up lie, I delete it.

And shake my head.

Because that’s what these emails are – lies. False stories. Half-truths. And when I receive them from my fellow Christians, they make me shake my head all the more because I’m quite sure that “not bearing false witness” is mentioned in the Bible a couple of times. And that seemed to be one of God’s big no-no’s, a top-ten lister for sure.

Yet those things rocket around the Interwebs like a sugared-up toddler, passing from one account to the next without so much as a pause.

Granted, some of those emails come with pretty dire admonitions not to break the chain of senders. Some even suggest that Jesus will be very disappointed with you if you don’t pass the message along.

Yeah – Jesus would be real tore up because you didn’t disseminate a lie. Just like he’d be disappointed if you didn’t secretly envy your neighbor’s new car.

And for the record, prefacing your email with “I don’t know if this is true or not, but I don’t want to be the one to stop the chain if it is!” doesn’t earn you a get-out-of-jail-free card. Ignorance is not a viable defense. Not when we have Googleat our fingertips.

I get that the political stakes are high. (Believe me, I get it.) I understand that we have reached critical mass in terms of the polarization of the electorate, and that each side tends to see the other as the enemy. I know that people often need motivation to do their civic duty come an election year, but really – do we need to make up flat-out lies?

So let’s call a truce on the whole defamatory emails, okay? No more Obama-is-a-Muslim-plant or Romney-family-accidentally-misspells-their-name-RMONEYhoaxes. Let’s instead concentrate on channeling our inner Joe Friday’s, and stick to just the facts.

I mean, it seems like the candidates give us enough ammunition on their own that we don’t need to waste time making junk up.