prison

Last night a group from CSF Kearney and I traveled down to Norton, Kansas to visit the Kansas State Prison. We met up with a passionate prison missionary there who served as our contact that past couple of weeks to plan the trip. We played some praise music and had a message for the prisoners at the minimum security prison. Prison is an interesting place...

If you have never been to a prison, I would put it on one of your top 5 places to go. It's so strange there...18 year olds mixed in with 50 year olds. No feminine influence to be found...blacks, hispanics, and whites all segregated into their separate groups. But surrounding the Christian meeting, blacks, hispanics, and whites all came together. There, it was o.k. for groups to intermingle in the name of Christ. Prisoners are interesting people...

Garza was the first prisoner I met. He stood about 5'5" with a shaved head...a 26 year-old from Houston, Texas who had wrapped himself up in the Kansas drug trade because it paid better than factory work. He explained that he had been a migrant worker in agricultural states such as Indiana since he was about 2 feet high...detassling corn, walking fields. His interest had been sparked by a song we sang in Spanish called Montana...a song we learned in Mexico. "I miss going to Mexico," he said. In relation to his drug charge, he admitted he deserved his time...but, "four years? I thought I'd get two...but you have to take what you get." He told me that when he got out, he'd stay straight and learn how to play guitars...he'd been looking at guitar magazines and looked forward to getting out.......they all were.

Garza was just one of the prisoners I talked to...but many had the same story. They were generally people just like me...oddly enough. It always amazes me when I go to prisons just how much the prisoners are like me. They just want to stay out of trouble...they want to stay straight...they want a better life. There's no facade there...and that's the part I love. You're in prison for a reason...there's no reason to hide from what you've done and who you are. People aren't hiding about what they are...and that means they don't hide their faith. It was the first place I had heard people say cliche terms like "praise the Lord" after sentences like they actually meant it. They called me "brother" as if I was their blood. Something seemed to be in the prison that I don't find a whole lot in the Church outside...honesty, humility, and gratitude.

In prison, they understand that there's no point in dwelling on the past...the past caused the present...and the present hopefully will thrust them into a positive future. Future is hope...focusing on their futures is the only way to survive in there. They just want to go home. In prison...the simple things matter. I talked to one member of the prison band who had been playing on a guitar which "if it had been any cheaper, it would have been plastic." He was trying to make a guitar out of floss and cardboard boxes. He said that playing our guitars was like "heaven."

I didn't feel a fake spirituality...or over spirituality there like I have seen on the outside here in Christians. They are men, and they praise God in a masculine way...it's hard to explain...but I think some guys may know what I mean. Sometimes Jesus seems to be spun as this effeminate figure who some love almost romantically...that's tough for guys...foreign to us. In prison, they love Jesus as if he was a fellow friend in prison...Jesus has your back...and believing in him is not a sign of weakness. Christians in prison also have each other's back...they are looked up to by other prisoners and not mocked as one would think. Something we could learn from, I think. They help each other out...they aren't judgemental of each other because they are all in the same lot....same as us, only more evident to them. They only want to help each other get out of sin and get out of prison.

Prison taught me a lot and definitely changed my perspective. It's important for Christians to be honest, grateful, humble...and we need to stick together. It's a tough world out there.

Finding the middle...there the truth lies

I am admittedly frustrated with Christian movements lately. I was frustrated also with past Christian movements...these movements that start with a book and manifest themselves in Sunday Church meetings, prayer meetings, and small groups. The latest craze has been the Donald Miller/Rob Bell phenomenon...I have read the books of both writers and I must say that I agree with much of what they say. It seems that this new movement in Christianity is anti-traditional Church...it's doctrine is heavy on loving others and honesty. Both principles are great...however, I fear that they are only half of the truth...and when this movement is at its extreme point...it becomes dangerous...because it does not reflect the entire truth of the Bible. This seems to be a trend that occurs every fifty years or so. This new movement is heavier on works because prior movements had tipped the balance all to Faith alone...leaving many Churches stale in the production of fruit (everyone had/has become so focused on their "Personal Relationship with Jesus" that they forgot everyone hurting and in need around them). This new movement I am afraid, however, loses a reverence and healthy fear of God...people seem to be forgetting Truth in this mix of Love, Faith, and Honesty.

I met up with some Christians awhile back who had been influenced by this most recent phenomenon. The group was rather trendy and knew all of the new lingos that go along with the new movement. They pray the same way...a really personal way (I have no problem with that)...when they meet, it seems to be an "anything goes" type atmosphere. The group is somewhat clique-ish, but inviting to outsiders. When they speak, they sound like hippy philosophers that just hopped out of a Volkswagon mini-van. Light swearing is not uncommon at the meetings (by light, I mean it does not rival the construction site), but the people there seemed to have a deep love for Christ.

As I was taking this all in and learning the dynamics of the group (meaning that I found I didn't really fit there), I heard an individual swear in his prayer to God. This is the same God who Jews refer to as "Gd" because they believe his name is so Holy that they are unworthy to even write his full name. The same God who created the Universe, who died for us, and has complete control over everything. The same God who could easily strike us down for that type of behavior...the God whose fear has been lost in this new movement. Sure, he's the God of Grace...but it is not a grace we are to take for granted.

In my struggle to figure out all of these movements, I find that Catholics are on the far right...ultra conservative with homogenous services that pay a deep respect to God. I find that a relationship with Christ is often not stressed in Catholicism, however. On the far left is the newest movement where Jesus is more of a "homeboy" than God. I find deep truth in both movements...but I find the whole truth and therefore Jesus himself standing at the midpoint of both movements. I like the Catholic reverence for God...I believe in the newest movement's love for others and personal engagement with Christ...why can't we have both (that's not to say, however, that some or many members of the newest movement and Catholics themselves don't have both...but the movements themselves)? Can we not have a relationship with Christ, a reverence for God, and a love for others at the same time? As with most morality, I believe the truth in Christianity is often at the midpoint of extremes.

And as always, I could be completely wrong in my evaluation of Christ and Christianity...but I know that we solve/gain nothing when we only preach half truths. In Christianity at this point...we really need a middle ground to unite Christians.

Getting Clean

I was at the Comstock Rock festival this past weekend. I arrived in Comstock Thursday evening with my brother and my sister-in-law eager to enjoy some good music and camping. On our first night we were hit with a surprise rain storm (unfortunately our tent did not come with a rain fly...nor was it waterproof we soon found). Within minutes, rain droplets had flooded my fried vegetables, corn on the cob, and hotdog. Our sleeping bags were wet, our bodies were damp...not the greatest start to a 4 day weekend of camping. Soon we found a way to use our tarps as a rain fly (of course it didn't rain the rest of the weekend) and tried to dry out our tent as much as possible. That night we came back to the campsite after a concert to find few sober people, loud music, and various people screaming "comstock rock, baby!" at all hours of the night. My brother and his wife had the pleasure of waking to the sound of someone throwing up outside our tent at some ridiculously early hour in the morning (I wonder if Comstock still Rocked for that guy?). Anyway, the next day it was hot...100 degree days for the rest of the weekend.

I'm not complaining...just explaining the situation for some insight that I had later. See, we were surrounded with people we normally wouldn't be surrounded with (except for when I'm at work on the construction site). Many of these people didn't find a minute of the day when they were sober...stumbling around in the heat, screaming obscenities, etc. I soon found a stark difference between my way of life and theirs. I tried to refrain from condemning these people (not my job), however...it was just a completely different world.

After two days, we decided to pay $5 for a hot shower. I hadn't showered in two days and had had that gross feeling that comes with being dirty. You're sticky, hot, and....miserable. That shower had to be one of the greatest physical feelings of my life...I stood under the shower head for about 20 minutes, making sure that I was good and clean. Up until that point, I had known that I was unclean and I really didn't notice the uncleanliness of anyone else around me. When everyone is unclean...nobody really smells to you...it reminds me of being on a mission trip when we're coming back from Mexico. People haven't bathed...but you usually can't tell how bad the van smells until you yourself sit in it after you have showered. Then, it becomes apparent how gross the van is. Same idea here...after I had my shower...I could tell that others were really unclean.

As I was in the shower, I began thinking about those back at my campsite. People there were different than me...a difference I probably wouldn't have noticed unless I had first been cleansed by Jesus. This cleansing by Jesus must be a continuous thing...we must confess and repent of our sins in order to remain our cleanliness. Unless we humble ourselves and do this...I'm afraid we become spiritually sticky, lukewarm, and miserable. There's nothing like a spiritual shower (which comes from repentance) to allow us to seize the day and give us motivation to advance the Kingdom here on Earth.

After my shower, I didn't feel like going right back out and getting dirty again...I didn't feel like sweating or laying in a damp tent...in such a way, spiritual cleansing also helps us to repel temptation and continue on the path of righteousness. Also, when I became clean, I could notice that others around me weren't clean. "Before you try to remove the speck of dust in a brother's eye, first remove the plank from your own eye so that you can see more clearly". In otherwords, if you have not repented of your own sins and become spiritually clean, how could you approach a brother in love to help them with their sins? How would you feel if a sweaty guy who hadn't bathed in three days came up to you and told you you needed deodorant? Doesn't make sense does it? Anyway, that's what I was thinking about when I was enjoying my shower.

Running in the Cemetery...forgetting the dead

Cemeteries are interesting places. I once was scared of death. As a young child (5 and 6 years old), I went to the open casket funerals of both my great grandma and great grandpa. For about three years after that I had difficulties in coping with death. Repeated nightmares of standing next to open caskets, constant fear for my own life including a strange fear of germs, and anxiety issues. Luckily, those things all worked themselves out and I can sleep soundly :). Tramatic for a little kid to experience. First of all, there is the inability to comprehend death due to an inability to fully comprehend life at that age. At that age, it seems as if everything should last forever...the death of 90 year-old grandparents seemed tramatic and unjust. Fear of their ghosts (which never actually came) was all the more tramatic.

I find it funny how God helps us to conquer our fears. Due to the nature of blogging, it is difficult to actually go into a lot of detail about my fears of death at that age (if you want to know I'd tell you in person)...but I am pleased to report that I now have little fear of death. By the time I was a Senior in high school, I actually dug graves in the summer time. By then, I had gone to over 15 funerals and death was a part of life to me.

Now, in Lincoln, my front lawn is basically Wyuka cemetery. When I used to come and visit my brother here (he was here before me), I used to ask him if it ever freaked him out to live next to a cemetery. "Naw" he used to say, "after a week or so, you don't even realize it's there." The same has happened to me...I hardly realize it is there. For my run, I ran through the cemetery today...there's more there than I expected.

The cemetery is full of beautiful statues, monuments, and mosoleums. As I ran by the military section, I couldn't help but read the ages of soldiers who died years ago. Many died in 1939 (start of WWII)...and into the 70s in Vietnam...some from the Spanish American war. Sadly, many of these soldiers would have been my age. It's a strange realization when it comes to you...that these men died over 60 years ago for a worthy cause. They are not forgotten by family...but they are never known by people like me. Someday they will be forgotten...no family or friends to remember them. They'll be a name...but that's only here on Earth. It's not so sad when you also realize that there is an eternity and that I will probably meet some of those men someday and get to know them.

That brings me to my final realization. So often we worry about and fear things on Earth. We fear death...some of us fear life and the troubles it brings. We become so involved and engrossed in our fears that we seem to forget those who are dying around us. "After a week or so...you hardly realize they are there"...

People spiritually die every day....this world is a living graveyard full of people seeking God's truth...and I am ashamed to say that there have been times in my life when I was so busy appeasing my fear (fear of failure, etc.) that I forgot the dead that surrounded me. After awhile, it seems that we have forgotten them so long that we no longer care. We don't care that the guy sitting next to us on the bus could be going to Hell for an eternity. We forget that our souls are eternal and that this life is short. There is more at stake here...far too much at stake. The cool thing about the spiritual graveyard is that it can be brought to life...and we can help do it....but we must first realize that we are surrounded by the dead.

Back in the USA...using the Lord's name in vain

I arrived home last night after a long and fulfilling trip. Though I am currently tired, I feel fortunate to have been a piece of a greater mission. In Mexico, we did some concrete work, painted, played lots of soccer, and helped out with VBS at the Iglesia de Cristo in Saltillo, Coahuilla. Though we helped out a great deal at the Church and with the children of the Church, I feel as if we may have had a greater impact on the surrounding community (which is encouraging as I feel this is what the Church is for). I was impressed by the fact that the Church reaches out to the neighborhood youth, regardless of their religious affiliation.

This reminded me of Jesus' words in Matthew when he is ministering to the tax collectors (Matthew himself). When the Pharisees became disturbed that Jesus was professing to be a 'good Jew' but ate with 'sinners', Jesus replied: "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. But go and learn what this means: 'I desire mercy, not sacrifice.' For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners." (Matthew 9:12-13). I feel that the Church we helped out with in Mexico was in fact ministering to the spiritually sick....all through the sport of soccer.

Soccer...futbol to the locals...became our ministering tool. We worked at the Church, and the allure of the possibility of beating Americans on the soccer field brought many of the local youth to the Church's soccer field (field is a stretch...more like dirt street with PVC pipe goals). My friends who have gone on sportreach missions would agree that sports is a great way to connect with locals and share the Gospel with them. The sport of soccer, as evidenced this past few weeks in the World Cup, is a way to bridge the gap between cultures. Nations who would normally meet on the field of battle with bombs and rifles meet instead to test their skills on the soccer field. Iran and Saudi Arabia played Western nations...and peacefully! That amazes me. Anyway, it shows me how similar we all are here in the world. In Mexico, and the rest of Latin America I assume, Soccer is a great witnessing tool. I am awed by God and his ability to use a sport (maybe he even created sports for this purpose) to bridge cultural gaps for his Gospel...to promote understanding and ultimately Love.


Our greatest success in Mexico this past week was playing soccer with non-believing youth...we did not come to heal the healthy.

When I came home to Beatrice today I caught the tail end of a special on the "most fanatical" of Christians who adimately oppose abortion...to the point of killing abortion Doctors. Now, Jesus did say that he did not come to bring peace to the world, but the sword...but I don't think he meant that his followers were to be the ones that would attack others (well, I know he didn't mean that). He meant that his Gospel is so revolutionary and true that it is divisive. You are either with Him or against him...there is no no-man's-land...no middle ground. You're either a Christian or you aren't.

Anyway, these Christians (just like the Christians from Topeka who found it necessary to hold an anti-war/government rally at the funeral of a deceased Beatrice soldier near my house) do horrific things in the name of Christ. When I watched the tail end of the special, the Christian fanatic said "if God told me to do something and I knew for sure it was him...I'd do it." And so would I...but being so sure is difficult...especially if you believe God is telling you to kill someone (most likely not his voice). It got me to thinking about using the Lord's name in vein.

I had always thought that using the Lord's name in vein meant screaming "Jesus" when you're frustrated. That may be...but after I watched the abortion special...I began thinking about what it may mean to use the Lord's name in vein another way. I thought about thousands of Christians marching under the symbol of Jesus during the Crusades committing horrible acts. I thought about Christian Kings during the middle ages using their power and people's reverence to Jesus to exploit and kill. I thought finally about using the name of Jesus as a justification to kill abortion doctors, hatefully picket homosexuals, and to gain trust in others to get what you want. Are these not also ways in which the Lord's name has been used in vein?

The danger of using Jesus' name in vein is the example it sets for non-believers. This is why God is so adimately opposed to those who use his name to achieve evil means. Non-believers are hurt in the process...and Jesus didn't come to heal the healthy. As Christians, we must be careful not to march under the banner of Jesus' name, only to leave a trail of death, hate, and carnage behind us.

Saltillo, Coahuilla, Mexico!!!!

Viajo a Mexico! I'm going to Mexico tomorrow at 8 in the a.m. and won't be back until July 9th. I'm going with the Lincoln CSF group...we're all Mexico Mission "veterans" so we kinda know the drill. I am looking forward to seeing how God blesses the trip, how he blesses the Mexicans, and finally how he blesses us with new experiences and events to learn from. We're expecting 200 kids for VBS which will stretch my Spanish skills...but I'm really looking forward to it. I think I could learn a lot about God by interacting with children. Anyway, if you think about it...please send up a prayer for us.

peace

Prayer and God

I was working construction yesterday in York and I was again spiritually enlightened by one of my coworkers. I met Ian the other day on the York job...we're putting cinder block walls up at the York Middle School. Anyway, Ian is about 34 and seems to be a pretty nice guy. Anyway, he was talking to his coworkers about how is girlfriend won't sleep with him anymore until he's married to her...they're engaged. He was pretty bummed out about it and his coworkers were giving him a hard time for it. He said "she says God won't forgive you if you keep committing the same sin." Someone told him he should get her drunk and then it wouldn't be a problem. Ian replied "If I did that, God would pull a trick on me like he did the last time."

Then he kind of said something that was funny and yet profound. He said "last time, I told God I wanted to get off drugs...a month later I found myself serving a four year sentence for drugs in Federal Prison". Wow. Sounds like an answered prayer, but not the way Ian wanted it. Careful what you pray for? Naw. God knows what is best for us. He loves us so much that he would send us to prison if it meant saving our souls. That's love. Anyway, I don't know if Ian thinks of it that way...but it made me think.