Treating God Like A Famous Person

I can't remember a time when I said to myself, "Hey! A lot of very famous people live in Nashville," and then felt excited at the thought of running into them. Once, Carrie Underwood walked by me in a store where I worked and I didn't notice her, despite her picture on the cover of the magazine directly in front of me. I would not be here telling you this story if my friend Bruce hadn't brought it to my attention. That's how much I don't think about it.

However, I am human, and have experienced a "star-struck" feeling at least twice in my adult life. Once, I stood next to Patrick Stewart in Vancouver. Even then, I enjoyed the moment a little too late. I didn't realize it was him (because he stands about as high as my shoulder) until someone called his name and he replied "Over here" in that spectacular accent.

Then there was the time I found myself standing next to John Davis of Superdrag in a crowded bar. He looked up (also a shorter man. I guess I'm most impressed by people shorter than me) and said, "How's it going?" Instead of saying something normal and friendly, I panicked and asked him if he'd let me through to the bathroom. 

We've all wondered what we would say or do should we meet someone famous. I'm sure we have. At least once. Some people think about it more than others. I know because I met them on the Rachel Leigh Cook Fan club message board.

But why? Why do we want to meet famous people so much? Considering the quote referenced in this post, would it have been ironic to feel giddy if I met pre-death Joe Strummer? It's hard to tell. The definition of irony has blurred a little in our culture. 

Fame is so weird. You can't measure it. You could argue over a person's ability to produce or commodify fame, but I probably wouldn't agree with you. I think it's most like a currency. Its worth is determined by the faith or value given to it by people. 

This could be why I've never really liked the song "You are the Lord, the famous one." I know it's accurate in the sense that a lot of people know about God. Still, I can't shake the feeling it describes God as if He were on the cover of Self Magazine (although, maybe that would be fitting?). If meeting Patrick Stewart and John Davis says anything, I don't want to treat God the way I treat famous people. Would I not realize He was there? Would I panic and go to the men's room? 

Is it possible that some Christians treat God like a famous person? Do they think about what it would be like to meet God someday, but not really feel comfortable meeting Him in real life? Is it more of a fantasy than a relationship for them?

Just wondering. What do you think?

Membership vs. Ownership - Another look at the fan club idea.

Some of the first posts I did on the press came directly from my book, Stark Raving Obedience. I put it in there partly because I felt self-conscious about starting a weblog and wanted to appear authoritative. Also, I figured if I was going to say things like "God said such-and-such to me", I should probably have an explanation of my reasoning behind that before people started writing me off as a mentally ill slacker.

One of those early posts came from the introduction of the book and talked about how my relationship with God paralleled my membership in the Rachel Leigh Cook Fan Club. I read all the material, knew all the work, went to fan club chats, wrote her fan mail, but I didn't really know her. We didn't have a relationship, even though I did all the stuff and knew all about her.

Yesterday, MorsIndutus (whom I may or may not know in real life) left a comment which reminded me of another fan club analogy. I joined the RLC fan club at the age of 19 because I got a celebrity crush after watching Josie and the Pussycats. That same year, I joined the Kiss Army because I watched Detroit Rock City with a few friends one night. At first, I think I did it because I wanted to be outrageous and make people think I was interesting. But then, at some point, I thought it might be cool to legitimately get involved in the Army. 

If you're not in the Kiss Army, you're probably not aware that they do indeed promote you through the ranks based on a point system. I won't go into detail of what activities earned you how many points, but I will say that I worked on it for while. They start you out as a Kiss Army Recruit. After a few days of mild activity, you can reach the level of Kiss Army Private. I got there easily enough, but no one likes to walk away as anybody's private, so I felt determined to become a Corporal. I wanted to be able to tell people I was in the Kiss Army without sounding like a weekend warrior, so to speak. It sounded more genuine to say I'd been promoted twice.

But after I got that Corporal status, I didn't do anything, and I mean anything, with the Kiss Army. I did just enough to feel like I'd really been a part of things and then I let it go.

Again, like I said yesterday, I don't want to veer toward legalism. But I have paused to think about this.

Is the idea of "membership" so focused on me and what I get out of Christianity that I'm actually a follower of America's Biggest Religion instead of a Christian?

Or is it better to look at Christianity like ownership? Am I serving, contributing, giving, and sacrificing because Jesus has changed me? Does accepting Jesus include a responsibility for demonstrating my faith in Him?

If were to call myself a Christian because I've attended something, is that like telling people I'm a Corporal in the Kiss Army? Would I be fooling myself to say I'm a part of something when I've been inactive for nearly a decade? Is saving faith simply the recitation of a few certain words?

What do you think?

The Purpose Of Doctrine Is Not Doctrine Itself.

For those of you who read Stark Raving Obedience or maybe the first post in the Press, you may remember how I compared my relationship with God to joining the Rachel Leigh Cook fan club.

This morning, I heard pastor John Privett say something similar in his message. "It's one thing to know about a person but another to actually know them. Some people try to substitute the Bible for a dynamic, active relationship with Jesus."

At one point in time, I felt like I knew quite a lot about Rachel Leigh Cook, but I didn't know her. In fact, I sometimes think of how I could have only hung out with her if she initiated it. It's sort of like how Jesus told His disciples, "You didn't choose me, I chose you." But that's beside my point here.

I realize that I've put a lot of focus on the Bible lately. I've done so because people seem to have a lot of questions and want to talk about it. A Charles Spurgeon quote comes to mind today, "Defend the Bible? I would just as soon defend a lion. Just turn the Bible loose. It will defend itself." Like Spurgeon, I don't feel like I need to defend the Bible. If you want to wrestle with it, you'll find it hard to overpower.

I mentioned having a point earlier, so here it is. I wrote about this stuff because I want to encourage you to have a dynamic relationship with Jesus. I think knowing doctrine allows this, which may explain why Paul told both Timothy to be nourished on sound doctrine (1 Tim. 4:6) and Titus to hold fast to the Word so he can teach sound doctrine. Now, the purpose of doctrine is not doctrine itself, but to explain how a person can know, love, and have a relationship with God in the way He wants. But it's the very fact of God wanting things on His terms which (I think) scares people most. G.K. Chesterton once wrote "The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and left untried."

What do you think? Would you rather know and love God on His terms? How would a person even know such a thing?

Does Jesus, or even the mention of Jesus, make you nervous?

Does the Holy Spirit scare you, even though He's offering gifts?

How important is your control to you?

Can't You Just Pretend To Be Nice? - What might happen when we're accountabile to each other.

It's no real secret. When I was 19 years old, I joined the Rachel Leigh Cook fan club. One of the better songs in the movie Josie and the Pussycats, Can't You Just Pretend To Be Nice, got me singing along the moment I heard it. But something irritated me about the song. Not just because the guy in the song sounds like such a tool, but because the girl would for real find life easier if he faked it.

Earlier, I asked about confrontation. I mean, accountability. It's sort of tied together. When I read the last chapter of Nehemiah, I really had to ask myself which God likes better: Nice people or people pursuing holiness? Wouldn't it be more kind to confront people when they're deep in sin?

I'm not saying I want to tear anyone's hair out, but I am saying I want to know what you think. Is nice always kind?

Well-versed and Empty-hearted - Some thoughts on religious dullness.

Remember when I spent six months writing about the Minor Prophets (and yet gave you no links to Non-Prophets)? Instead of the now-familiar format where I share something I learn, I want to tell you about some meditations I've recently had while reading the Bible.

Last week, my friend Greg spoke at church about the presence of the Holy Spirit. In the message, he made two important points. One, the Bible is not enough. Yes, the Bible is completely necessary as a means for us to know God. But some people make the mistake of having a relationship with the Book and never get to know the Author. It's sort of like RLC Fan-club Christianity. There is a great danger in this. Modern man has tried for generations to understand God in strictly human terms. They use the Xerox copy as their standard of the total landscape. The picture is nice and all, but it's separate from their experience. So they use words like, "It's good to have faith, but..." As if faith were a pleasant virtue instead of a new way of life.

Two, the Holy Spirit changes lives. Some men from the church in Ephesus knew about repentance and baptism, they tried to "do" the stuff but hadn't received the Holy Spirit, let alone heard of Him. Acts 19:1-6 tells the story of these men finally meeting God, the Author, experiencing the presence of the Holy Spirit. Their faith went from works to relationship in the space of a breath. Imagine watching this take place. They instantly began to speak in other languages and prophesy. How do you think they they would have explained it? Don't you think something like that would have changed their lives?

The Christian Church has seen its share of well-versed and empty-hearted people. In 2 Timothy 3:2-5, Paul warns the young pastor, "People will be self-loving, money-loving, proud, arrogant, insulting, disobedient to parents, ungrateful, unholy, heartless, unappeasable, slanderous, uncontrolled, brutal, hateful of good, traitorous, headstrong, swollen with conceit, loving pleasure rather than God, as they retain the outer form of religion but deny its power." Don't slide your eyes over this list. I know I sometimes see words like "brutal" or "traitorous" and think the message couldn't possibly apply to me. The truth is I recently repented of a huge area of pride in my life, and I know I've insulted people. This warning should cause us to stop and consider if we are those who retain an outer form of religion while denying its power. Have our lives genuinely changed or have we merely memorized data about Him?

I grew up in dry and dusty Baptist churches and almost never heard anyone mention the Holy Spirit. This version of faith was a list of rules and guidelines, no matter how passionately I tried to tell my non-believing friends otherwise. Before I met the Holy Spirit, my faith, my life, was dull. I seldom repented because my heart was hard and I didn't understand the purpose of conviction. During a conference in 2004, Graham Cooke noted how Paul's last sermon in Acts was a message against religious dullness. "The Holy Spirit spoke well in saying to your fathers through Isaiah the prophet, 'Go to this people and say, "You will keep on hearing but never understand, and you will keep on seeing but never perceive, because the heart of this people has grown thick - with their ears they barely hear, and their eyes they have closed, for fear that they should see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their heart, and do repentance, so that I could heal them."'"

Since Greg's message, I have asked God to keep my heart sensitive to the Holy Spirit, to keep me from dullness. I don't want to go from a life of Stark Raving Obedience to the lukewarm, practical atheism of nominal Christians.

How do you feel about this? Are you content with once-a-week Christianity? Does the thought of God speaking to you fill you with anxiety? Do you want life with God, living in His presence as you work and eat and study and socialize, or do you just want to go to a nice place after you die?

Beginning To Live In Stark Raving Obedience

I moved to Nashville in September of 2007. Since nobody in this city is from this city, I always have to answer the question, "What brought you here?" Most people would expect an answer like "music" or "publishing". Well, I have played music for fifteen years, but that's not the reason I moved to Music City. And I did write a book with my father, but I didn't even know that Nashville was a big publishing town until after I had already decided to live in Tennessee. When people ask me why I came to town, I usually laugh before I tell them, "It's a short answer with a long explanation."

God told me to move to Nashville. By that, I mean He spoke to me and said, "Move to Nashville." Yes, God and I have conversations. If this seems like the statement of a psychotic man, I might agree with you if it weren't so Biblically sound. Below, I've included a portion of the introduction to my book, Stark Raving Obedience. Later, I will include the first chapter. Hopefully, these will sufficiently explain how a person can hear the voice of God in his head and not (necessarily) need prescription medication.

Preface to Stark Raving Obedience

People talk to God all the time. Whether it’s someone praying for friends and family, at the dinner table, or at a baseball game, talking to God is pretty ordinary. On the other hand, tell someone that God talks to you, and they might look at you like you ought to be locked up and psychoanalyzed.

It’s hard to deny that people are searching for something in their lives. Dating services try to provide people with intimacy. Some people drink to numb their pain, an attempt at healing their wounds if only temporarily. I remember a professor in college claiming that television was a way for people to have a community experience, a nation of people experiencing the same “events” while sitting alone in their homes. Something exists in every man and woman that longs for something, even if they can’t explain what they long for. I know that lots of people are just searching for answers, and many of them are seeking God for those answers, even if they don’t realize it.

But how can a person ask God a question when they don’t believe that He’ll tell them the answer? How can God give direction if He doesn’t communicate with us? A person might argue that God speaks to us in the Bible. True, but maybe I want to know if I should take a job overseas, or maybe I want to know how to reconcile a relationship with a family member. Personal stuff. Sometimes uncomfortable and complicated stuff. I believe that God wants to direct us and answer our questions personally, not just the deep questions of mankind as a whole.

How in the world can you have a personal relationship with someone who isn’t personal? We say the words “personal relationship” a lot in the church, but I don’t know if the church always does a good job of explaining (or understanding) a real personal relationship with God.
A few years ago, I joined the Rachael Leigh Cook fan club after watching the movie Josie and the Pussycats. I saw all of her movies. I read her biographical information. I read all the news updates, participated in a few of the fan club chats, and sent her a two and a half page fan letter. Even after all of that, I don’t think anyone in their right mind would say that I had a personal relationship with Rachael Leigh Cook.

At a young age, I was told that if I read my Bible, went to church or youth groups, and prayed to God (talked at Him), then I had a healthy, personal relationship with Him. Now I know better. It’s good to do all those things, but it’s not enough. It’s not personal. The only way to have a personal relationship with anybody is to talk with them, to build trust and have a history with them. Is that possible with an immaterial God? I know now that it is.