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?

When We Move, It's A Movement.

A friend of mine gave me the new John Eldredge book, Walking With God. Because my “to-read” list is pretty long, it can take ages before I finally get to the newest book. For some reason, I decided to upset the natural order of things and skip other books I had promised to read first. So far, I like Walking With God very much. It’s actually a little spooky how close Eldredge’s teachings mirror the life my family has lived for the past fourteen years. It’s like the guy’s been reading my mail, or at least my book. John, if you're reading this, let’s hang out.

Last night, I read the section “Until God Becomes Our All”. I tried not to get visibly excited while sitting in a hip café as I read these words. “The first and greatest command is to love God with our whole being. Yet, it is rare to find someone who is completely given over to God. And so normal to be surrounded by people who are trying to make life work. We think of the few who are abandoned to God as being sort of odd. The rest of the world – the ones trying to make life work – seem perfectly normal to us.” So help me, I almost said aloud, “That’s me!” I’m not saying that I get it right all the time, but my mistakes happen in the middle of my effort to live for God by the direction of the Holy Spirit.

Abe once told me that one of the most neglected commands in the Bible is to have no other gods before God. I think I agree with him. Millions of good Christian people just snarled at me, I know. But think about it. People will follow God as long as it doesn’t look foolish, jeopardize their finances, or interfere with any other plans they may have. They worship at the alter of money, image, career, relationships, or whatever else started as a gift from God. But I’m not writing about idols today. I had a long night, you know? I want to write about something exciting.

This verse comes from Stern’s Complete Jewish Bible. Acts 9:31 “Then the Messianic community (the church) throughout Y’hudah (Judea), the Galil (Galilee) and Shomron (Samaria) enjoyed peace and was built up. They lived in the fear of the Lord, with the counsel of the Ruach HaKodesh (Holy Spirit); and their numbers kept multiplying.” Two things ought to stick out from that verse. The believers feared God, meaning they lived for Him above everything else, and they sought the direction of the Holy Spirit. When the church lived in this way, they grew. People came to Jesus. It sounds pretty basic, right? Still, why do I look at the church in the western world and see so little life? How much are these churches growing because people are giving their lives to Jesus and how many churches are growing because of the Fan Club?

At church yesterday, the pastor taught on John 8. This is the awesome passage where Jesus says in verses 28, “So Yeshua (Jesus) said, ‘When you lift up the Son of Man, then you will know that I AM [who I say I am], and that of myself I do nothing, but say only what the Father has taught me.’” Jesus lived this way. He served God first, and only moved with the guidance of the Holy Spirit. He is our example, and all throughout the New Testament we are encouraged to live as Jesus lived. My pastor asked if anyone wanted prayer for that kind of relationship with God and a number of people responded. I prayed for one of my new church friends. He told me that he wanted a more dynamic, personal relationship with God. “I want that extraordinary life,” he said. Enough with that boring and normal and safe version of faith where we try to keep everything under our control. Let’s change the world.

This isn’t melodrama, people. I’m talking change. There is a reason the Gospel is called “Good News”. The world needs to hear this. And if people in the church are willing to sacrifice control of their lives (trying to make it “work”), giving all of themselves over to God, the world would take notice. The very thought of it touches my punk rock heart. Some people might say we need to take responsibility for our lives. I did that already, and I nearly ruined the whole thing. My responsible life didn’t mean much until I dedicated it to God in total surrender. Unless the church today begins to live as it did in Acts 9:31, it will become more inbred and ineffective. The church needs to move with the direct and personal guidance of the Holy Spirit. It’s like the Orchid song says, “when we move, it’s a movement.”