Christian culture: What parts of it are holy and what parts of it are man-made?
Falling in love with Jesus was and is amazing. The sky didn't crack open. There weren't any angels doing the electric slide. But committing my life to Jesus would change me forever: after seeing how awesome He was, there has never been anything that has come close to his goodness in my life. He loves me, encourages me, comforts me in my depression, and strengthens me to have self-control instead of want. When I realized how much Jesus meant to me, I knew that he was would forever be my first love and that his word would reign supreme over that of any man's word in my life.
For this reason, we must inevitably find ourselves asking "why do I do the Christian things that I do? Do we apply patterns in christian lifestyle because it is holy or because it seems holy?"
not to say that these "Christian things" or other parts of Christian culture are bad. Indeed, many of them purport strong discipleship and growth. however, things that seem biblical may not actually be biblical; what may start as a good intention, without biblical roots, can be cancerous to our relationship with Him. We may end up doing things for reasons that we do not even know; we may be taking the words of man in place of God's.
Why do we follow specifications for the sabbath? do we feel guilty when we worship on a day other than Sunday? do we freak out when we worship with friends at home instead of a building? if so, why?
"Have you never read what David did, when he was in need and was hungry, he and those who were with him: how he entered the house of God, in the time of Abiathar the high priest, and ate the bread of the Presence, which it is not lawful for any but the priests to eat, and also gave it to those who were with him? The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the sabbath. So the Son of Man is lord even of the Sabbath."
We obey to demonstrate that he is Lord. He is not Lord because we demonstrate.
I'm not a fan of generalizing or categorizing people because we are deeply multi-dimensional beings. if one generalization could be made, it is that we cannot generalize one another. myers-briggs, horoscopes, blood types, not only typify people, but it leads us to believe that we all fall under one of those categories and that's the way life is.
this is not true: we are capable of change, but only when we realize it. life moves in stages and ages and we change through these seasons.
you are your own person and you make your own choices. you may only be summed up in words or categories - at best - for a short while. the rest is up to you...
Hold dearly to childhood passion and ambition or forfeit your inner strength. Somewhere inbetween the years of growing up and insecurity, we forget that the world is our oyster. seek out that narrow path you know exists; the path of living life without regrets.
Allow your fate to measure up to your destiny - your destiny to have life in abundance.
"I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly."
I never really danced in high school. Once in a while I'd turn a Relient K song and have a solo mosh pit in my room pretending I was in a music video. But I donno if you want to call that dancing....it was moving rhythmically to music...so i guess it sort of qualifies (but not really).
I never understood why people loved to dance so much. To tell you the truth, I used to think dancing was lame - or should i say - stylized dancing was lame. I remember during my 7th grade middle school dance nights, we'd do "the epilepsy" to teen classic jams such as "california love" or "YMCA" and I remember having the best time of my life because no one really cared what we looked like, and to me, that smorgasbord of unorganized energy was dancing. It wasn't pretty, but it was fun. I guess that's why I felt so weird when I saw battles because dancing became a competition; a "who's cooler" algorithm of rehearsed moves to gain prepubescent street cred.
Some of my friends in highschool would breakdance and session in their garages while I stood by in my grey dickies and band t-shirts sweeping my mullet-bangs to the side of my face. It just never clicked for me I guess: the whole idea of organized dancing. In highschool, I thought I was so cool because I was a drummer in my school's marching band because everyone knows that all the badass kids are in the marching band. If you've ever seen the movie drumline, you'd know: even black people were in marching bands and EVERYONE knows that black people invented cool. If that weren't bad enough, I was also a drummer in the orchestra, wind ensemble, rock band, and jazz band, so i guess that made me mr. rebel cool kid #1. I don't have any regrets about being in band by the way. It remains my true love and all the experiences from traveling and creating beautiful music will always hold a special place in my heart.
So whenever my non-dancing friends see me, they say
"ohhh shoot, look it's 'DUH DaNsSuhhhh!!'" (emphasis on the DUH).
I guess it's not a bad thing, but I feel slimy when I hear it. It feels like they got the wrong guy. In fact, whenever I heard that, it'd make me cringe just a little bit. Not talking about it makes me feel like there's an elephant in the room, but in reality, I feel a lot like the elephant. It doesn't belong!
College marked an ironic twist of events for me as I ended up joining a choreography team called UCSD Ascension. It introduced me to a performance world of adrenaline as we'd dance in front of crowds full of cool kids. To tell you the honest truth, I liked it because I felt really cool. That sounds so cheesy, but I liked the spotlight. Maybe that's why it's fueled me to take classes and push myself to achieve as a dancer. Being cool felt good. But inside, I'm not really looking to be dope. In fact, I am a geek at heart. I just want to enjoy my craft, and the enjoyment is running dry these days. I know its there and I'd like to catch onto it, but it's slippery.
The team I currently dance with is filled with some of the best dancers in the world. And I mean filled. Many of them have toured with international superstars and even starred in music videos and ABDC. It was my dream last year to make it onto the team and it's still a surreal experience because dreams are rarely realized. To me, straight A's are within the realm of possibility, but becoming a dinosaur is not. Becoming a dinosaur is a dream and so was making it onto the current dance crew I'm on.
Even now, when I go to practice, I feel like I'm on mars and I ask myself "what am I doing here?" Though my non-dancing friends praise me a lot for being able to make it onto a high calibur team, it's somewhat incomplete for me. Not because I can't achieve my own goals, but because I lack passion for it, and though I'd like to have more, its difficult to comeby. It simply doesnt please me as much as playing music. Maybe its just a phase but thats the way I feel for now. Pain reveals where we turn for comfort in our lives. Some people dance, but I dont. I sing and play guitar or fall asleep on my couch tapping a djembe. I find a great deal of life in being a musician, and I'm trying to catch onto the same relief in being a dancer.
I'm looking at this post and I can't sit still with it. It's gone in a lot of different directions and almost sounds depressing, but I assure you, I'm not depressed. I'm just trying to figure out what role dance should play in my life. There's no fairytale ending here to all the stuff coming out of my fingertips, but I guess that's why it's an honest drop in the bucket.
I think I love the idea of control. Especially over things like what job I'll have or how I'll live. If i could, I would frame all my plans in a neat little cherry-glass frame and fold my arms in admiration. It is pretty awesome. I love control.
My American dream is set in scenic Monterey, California. Its sleepy mornings always linger as if the land itself were half-awake as veils of mist roll over the large oak beams of my home. The view is a thief, stealing breaths through views that frame grassy cliffs overlooking the white sands of Carmel, its turquoise shores, and the constant salty breeze that floats through the window as if it were on tap. It’s perfect: far from the sting of reality. I am happy and it is everything I want: security, comfort, peace. It is my fantasy waiting to be realized. My escape.
When life is an eye-sore, I just want to shut my eyes. Do you ever feel like that? I want my sea-cliff home. I want my $100,000 guitar. I want my Steinway piano. I want to numb it all away, hoping that it will.
Please try to feel me. Is it our desire as Americans to escape reality? To turn a blind eye to the suffering? Is there really more to life than getting rich, being happy, and dying? Or do we really just want to bask so deeply in applause that it drowns out the moans of people with needs? I don't want to fall asleep in luxury while somewhere, the sky is falling. I know that no matter how much I sit there on that patio enjoying the Monterey sunset, reality is still there tapping on my shoulder.
The dream is just a dream. Its cheap fabrications are lined with plastic. It just seems fake and unsatisfying.
Kanye has said some ridiculous things but he's right when he said "The highest up are often the most down low." How is it that the more we hold on to our lives, the more it crumbles apart? Often times, what we’d like to control often controls us: our lifestyles, our jobs, our fears. They consume us, dictate our feelings, and direct our actions. It almost seems crazy that God wants us to loosen our grip over our lives to trust that He has the best intentions for our lives. But that’s the funny thing that I’ve discovered: the less plans I try to make and the more I listen to what He has to say, the more peace and stability there is in my life. I think it’s because of the love he showers on me. His love is a pretty wild thing. It doesn’t obey the law of reason and it knows no boundaries. Even though I’ve disappointed him countless times, He continues to love me and encourage me. It’s that sort of wilderness about His love that captures my imagination – my desire.
I believe at the end of the day, we’re all looking for the love of a good father; a love that is unconditional. It’s the type of love that sees you for who you are – good and bad –and loves you regardless. The problem is that we’re looking for the right thing in all the wrong places: wealth, fame, status, etc. After my long search, the only person I know that can provide that sort of love day after day without fail is God. We can’t expect to fill the God-shaped hole in our hearts with anything otherwise.
I’m a total believer in enjoying life, but there’s a very fine line between happiness and ignorance. When it’s crossed, we lie to ourselves by convincing ourselves that we’re happy with our wealth and achievements. However, there is very little difference between folding our hands over our eyes and retreating to our million dollar homes. We're running from reality. A good friend of mine once said that all sunshine and no rain make for a desert. Life isn’t always sunshine as much as we’d like it to be. We need to understand that storms come and sometimes, we need them to remind us that there are deeper things in life.
So maybe the American dream is not so much a dream as it is a delusion because there is no "there" once you get there. It’s very possible that the only thing worse than planning what we want is when we actually get it. How many millionaires have been met with disappointment and a lingering for more after accomplishing the dreams of their youth? We can’t expect lifeless things to breathe life into ours. Even when we place our hope in our friends and family, they can fail us. It almost begs the question of whether there is anything in life that is constant and always there. I’ve only found one trustworthy person whom I can place my trust and hope: Jesus.
A lot of people say that Jesus is a crutch for the weak in spirit, but I am convinced that true strength is found in becoming like Him. I mean, If someone hurts you, it’s easy to give into our primal desire to repay an eye for an eye, but it takes true strength to humble oneself and to forgive an enemy. It’s hard to love people. But I want to be strong. And I know that the strength of the arm pales in comparison to the strength of humility. Jesus is seriously hardcore.
If you’ve ever felt like God doesn’t know you or care about you because you feel like an average person, don’t feel that way. He cares about you. He cares about your future. If you don’t believe me, find a bible and locate the verse Jeremiah 29:11.
There’s so much treasure to be hand when we understand that it’s not the achievements in life that make it succulent, but it’s the love of God that makes me confident that life is being lived to its fullest. His passionate love that he offers you is incomparable to any amount of fame, wealth, or even a woman's love. Welcome to a life with Jesus! He is so good that once you've had a taste of how good he is, everything else in life pales in comparison to what I can only describe as a mix of incredible joy, peace, and fulfillment. I'd humiliate myself for Him.
More than anything, He wants to make your life exciting. He wants to partner with you, to be a reliable friend. I know it sounds hard to believe, but that’s what faith is. Before you pursue a relationship with Him, I make an honest warning: He will completely change your life and you'll never come across anything better in your life.
Dare to believe that there’s someone on the other end of your prayers. For one faithful moment, loose your control over life.
When you lose your life, you’ll find it. In abundance.
