Our Forgotten Sin

My generation has experienced a revival in grace. We cling to grace and we celebrate it. Reacting to the fire and brimstone preaching that has dominated American culture for far too long, we have admitted our brokenness and have begun to foster a new religion based on relationship. What a beautiful movement towards God we have made.
However, I see the pendulum swinging, yet again, to the extreme. Forgive me if you feel as if I am putting words into the mouth of my generation, but I'm speaking from my 22 year old heart alive and thumping in the year 2007.

I forgot about sin.

I have celebrated a relational God and a God so full of grace that I forgot all about the sin issue. Also, I have fallen so in love with the positive commands such as giving to the needy that I have chucked out all the "Thou Shalt Not’s." Freedom in Christ has become an excuse rather than a privilege. Let’s face it, our generation is reacting to fire and brimstone by dancing in the streets daring it to fall, shouting, "Oooohhh...God doesn't do thaaaat."
I'm a youth minister, and I love teaching kids about the relational God and freeing them from the adolescent legalism they buy into early in their Christian faith. I so often quote the verse where Jesus says, "If you love me you will obey my commands." I make the point that it is our love for Christ that makes us behave, not a mere duty we must fulfill.
However, in my personal life, I have clung to the first part of that verse and ignored the second. It's all about the love and with my mouth as I drink coffee during my quiet time I moan, "Mmm, yes Jesus I DO love You." Then, my spiritual amnesia kicks in and I forget about obeying the commands.
We are writing books and giving talks and we're getting angry when the positive commands are ignored. There are all these people being hurt and Christ's love is not being expressed. Therefore, we throw our fists in the air and call the Church to obedience. However, when a sermon is preached on sexual purity, we scrutinize and make darn well sure it is being preached in love, lest we feel our toes are stepped on.
We forgot about sin. There are things that we are not supposed to do, and we will be separated from God if we do them. God's grace is enough, but our foolishness is still enough to slowly cast us into Hell.

"Return Oh Traveler, Dear Son"

So, I'm drivin' through the country of Virginia where I use to belong
And I've been robbin' myself of joy for far too long
Well, I've been missin' answers to my right and left most everyday
All of dem habits have been gettin' in my way

I'm comin' back--back to where I belong

Dance, Dance like it’s your last time
Sing, Sing into this ear of mine
Lean, Lean on someone not around here
Who's breakin' through the sky
(Then we say, YES!)

I was thinkin' the other day, I need to get more exercise
All my vices drop, I'll let my spirit rise
'Cause I hear the train a-whistlin' and I don't want to miss this ride
Cause life is gonna happen whether you are ready or not

I'm coming back--back to where I love

Dance, Dance like it’s your last time
Sing, Sing into this ear of mine
Lean, Lean on someone not around here
Who's breakin' through the sky

Drums go crazy!!!
1-2-3 COME ON, BILL, LETS GO

One of the Girls

This past Friday night, I was hanging out at my house. All of my friends were busy except for a dear friend, Jamie Ketchen. When I called her to see what was going on, she was at a bachelorette party. The invitation was extended, so I figured, eh, why not.
And thus was the beginning of the BEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE EVER. We sat around and told some stories, and then the bride's sister pulled out some index cards for a game. Everyone had to say who their fantasy actor crush was for the bride to guess who's card belonged to who. Of course, I put down Ewin Mcgregor. There was some girly dancing that took place. And I giggled once. The end.

Please Bury Me in Virginia

So often I reduce my relationships to concepts. I think about who is "bad company corrupting good morals," or which of my friends are that "cord of three strands not easily broken." My relationships with all kinds of people--old, young, male, female, new friends, old friends, family, and enemies--I reduce them to a concept. I see people as "accountability partners" or "stumbling blocks" or "mentors" or "needy people that need my ministering." (Yes, I know that is extremely arrogant) I forget about the true connection of souls. I want to stop analyzing the relationship and I want to relate. I want to quit categorizing people and start hugging more.

As I was thinking about all this the other day, I started daydreaming about my funeral. (I must confess, all of you are crying real hard and everybody is dying to share how I touched your life. It's just a daydream...let me have my moment.) In all seriousness, though, if I were allowed to look down at my funeral, I hope I see my wife and children holding each other peacefully. I would like to see, kneeling in front of my wife, one of my old Bible college friends praying for them. Then, however, seated next to my wife, I hope there is a prostitute who could honestly say that I talked to her with respect. On the opposite side of my family is a homeless man with his arm around my children very grandfatherly and all. Maybe there are a few cops at the back of the room with a prisoner in chains. Then scattered amongst the homeless and poor and wretched are the business men, the school teachers, the stay at home moms, the construction workers, firefighters, college students whose lives were in some way affected by mine when they were just children. I hope while the minister is speaking a few of my dearest friends start getting that panicky feeling you get in Church when you aren't suppose to laugh but you just have to. I hope Charlie is drawing funny pictures for Jacob to look at, and Jacob is crying a little bit (partly because Charlie is making him laugh, partly because I died, and partly because he watched Cool Runnings right before the funeral.)

I want the lines between the respectable and beautiful to be blurred between the shamed and ugly. I want those that I met weeks before my funeral to feel as close to me as my childhood friends.

I want to connect with you, my friend. I want to go to your funeral knowing that I offered you everything. I want you to come to mine knowing that you were loved during my lifetime.