processing

I have been working on this piece for about four weeks now, read it if you dare...

prison: tattered pages

On Christmas Eve Mallory, Heidi and I went to service at our church. During the sermon our pastor shared a story. He had visited a max-prison here in Colorado recently and got to know a particular inmate's story pretty well. The inmate was sentenced to 60 years (or something like that) because of 23 charges against him due to a fight that he had been in. During his time in prison he spent some time in the hole (it sounds like fighting was his personality). All that was in this solitary confinement cell was a bed with no mattress and a toilet. That's it. 4 weeks in total isolation. However, during his time in the hole, he found a bible behind the toilet. Nobody is sure how it got there; if a previous inmate left it, if a guard left it, or if it was hand delivered by God. Despite how it got there, this inmate devoured the book, studying the very character of God. This inmate has become one of the most articulate theologians in the prison and now spends his time teaching about the bible.

As I listened to this story, I sat in the pews awestruck. A feeling a guilt and a sense of need filled me. I felt guilty because immediately I saw all the distractions in my life. We, as Americans, have become so materialistic. I have no time to devour the word of God. We almost have to be yanked out of our lives and thrown into a cell for four weeks to finally stop and hear what God has to say. I started thinking about what it would be like to be in that cell. I know that panic would seize me, but I think there would also be a extreme clarity. Those few moments in life when we realize none of the materials in this lifetime matter. We are really all as naked as that inmate in total isolation. This feeling of nakedness is uncomfortable. It hurts to think that we are not in control, so we just medicate ourselves with pride. We tell ourselves that we can make it work. We say "Thank you God but no thank you, but I got this from here." As I sat in the pew and watched the layers of stubborn pride peel back because of this sudden realization, I felt a need to learn more about God. I felt a need to pick up the bible. I felt a need to let God in. I had a urge to once again devour the bible for myself.

I thought about the amount of time that inmate spent reading that bible. I thought about his state of mind. I thought about his total desperation. I thought about his need and discovery for God. I wanted to be able to devour the bible like that. I would love to find my self that enamored by the bible. But as I picked up the bible there in that pew my old friend -doubt- started to whisper to me again. I started thinking "why should I put all my eggs in one basket?" Meaning, how do I know this is any different that Islam or Mormonism or colts for that matter? How do I know this is real? You know whats funny about this questioning? I have studied and studied on the reliability of the bible. All these other religions are new spin offs of the bible. The bible has been around for thousands of years and there are more reliable manuscripts to back it up than any other piece of literature we have. There should be no doubt that it is what it is, but I have doubt. Funny huh? No not really, because if the bible is what it is, then it says that we should expect this doubt. Why? Because we are made in the image of God. Meaning, we are made like no other animal. We have the ability to think that we ourselves are God. This is my struggle. I have to submit to God or I can go on living life under my own control. All of us have to make this decision on a moment to moment basis. It is a lot easier for me to give in to my own desires than it is to submit to God.

Because of this inner struggle, it's hard for me to pick up the bible. I find myself skeptical before I even crack it open. Just the weight of the book brings up a sudden uneasiness in my heart. So as I crack it open and look at the pages through my skeptical and uneasy lenses, I see a historical text book (not a gripping novel). All of the sudden I'm reminded of high school history. The books that I would read about three words and then my mind would wander to something else. I would then proceed to spend the next fifteen minutes re-reading the same line over and over again and still never really know what it was saying to me. So now I have a bible in my hands, I feel uneasy, and now I find myself completely uninterested in the history this book is offering to me. All of the sudden I want to put the bible back and I haven't even read a single word out of it. When I finally do start to read it, My mind is distant and full of doubt. About the only words that grab my attention are the paragraphs headings. I spend about 30 seconds and read about two pages worth of paragraph headings in the book of Micah, "that should be good enough, I think I got a good feel for where this book wants to go" and I close it up. This has been the extent of my bible reading for the last couple of months. It is so weird to feel the need to devour a book but at the same time be completely dulled by it.

God has chosen to reveal himself to us through the bible and through fellowship (people speaking into our lives). So it would make sense that if we want to know God, if we want to study his Character than we should read our bibles. Our bibles will show us his heart. Our bibles will show us his promises to us in our lives. Our bibles will show us that God is faithful. But as I thought about this there in that pew, I started to wonder if American Christianity has got it right? In America we can go to a big fancy church and read our bibles and pick and chose out of our vast buffet line of Christianity. Is this the way it is supposed to be? What about the people that don't have a bible or a church to go to? You see, I truly believe this is where life is engaged. Life is engaged outside of "our" four walls and in the real happenings of other people. This is when we really start to grasp at who God is. Just like that inmate locked in total isolation, or a tribe of indians who have not been corrupted by our Christianity insurance policy. In desperation is when we realize that we are not God, because that is when we need him to act on our behalf.

As I sat there ready to once again completely open up to God, I felt a sudden wave of doubt again. I started to wonder if my life would look any different If I really believed the bible was true? Would any of our lives look any different if we started to believe it was actually true? Why do I always feel like I have to be another person for any of it to be real? When I realized life would be the same when I walked out the front doors of the church, I once again slumped back into the calloused stubborn boundaries of my heart. What does any of it matter...

In conclusion, I am not preaching. This is not me trying to convince anyone of anything. In fact, I'm not even sure I argued a single logical point. This is me voicing my inner struggles. This is me describing my wrestling match with God over the last 6 months. I'm tired of American Christianity. I'm tired of my pride. I'm tired of feeling like I need someones approval all the time. I'm tired of feeling like I'm never good enough. I'm tired of feeling like I'm bound by rules and conformity...