What Would You Rather Be Doing Right Now?

Contentment with my life, my thighs and God are just a few concerns I’ve been mulling over since hearing blogger/author Susie Davis talk about them.

As a contentment practice, Susie told us, she set a reminder on her iphone to buzz her each day at three. The reminder said,

“What would you rather be doing right now?”

“She has to be kidding,” I thought. “That would be a disaster for me because I can think up 50 things I’d rather be doing at any given time.” Things like..

going here….

or doing this….

or maybe this…

Skeptical, I tried it anyway. I set my reminder to ask every day: What would you rather be doing right now? For the past seven days, the answer has been: “Nothing. I like what I’m doing right now.”

That surprised me and made me wonder if I’m a little more content than I think I am. Here’s a seemingly obvious pearl of wisdom, that was a revelation to me:

Just because you think something, doesn’t necessarily mean it is true.

The longer we meditate on things, the easier they become our reality, ie: the more I wish I were in Paris rather than East Texas, the more miserable I usually become. This little iphone trick has shown me that while I always think I’d rather be in Paris, the evidence doesn’t always support that.

Writing

(Photo credit: jjpacres)

For the last seven days at least, I was perfectly content, sitting at my desk, just doing this.

Try it, and if the result surprises you too, comment about it.

Let Your Freak Flag Fly.

Yesterday, I received a rejection letter from a company to which I have applied for five different jobs.

It was a Christian company.

The first time they didn’t hire me, I wondered if they found me online and didn’t like my “brand” of Christianity, because they never even called me back. In the weeks that followed, I found myself pulling punches, editing myself into something they might like better, just in case they looked again. Reading those drafts, which thank God I didn’t post, is painful. My voice is fractured, boring and meanders all over the place.

I made myself into someone I’m not, so someone I don’t know would like me. Guess what? They still don’t.

Maybe it’s just the economy, but the point remains: I am useless to the world if I am lying about myself. I have learned from reading The Bible that I shouldn’t be domineering or offensive or aggressive, but do have to actually like who I am and not apologize for it – a topic I mulled over in yesterday’s post.

So I’m a Democrat and a yoga-teacher, and a thinker and a skeptic, who’s in love with organic farming, food politics and Jesus; and I don’t think those things are mutually exclusive. Watering any of that down to be palatable to everybody, just makes me bland, and that, I think, is an insult to God.

Photo: TPSDave

Photo: TPSDave

That’s the problem I had with Christianity forever. I believed I had to be a pious, churchy version of myself, and hose down the fiery parts that actually fuel the things I care about, like girls from poor families
sold by the busload into sexual slavery. Lots of religious folk trade in such phoniness, but Jesus does not.

In the gospels, Jesus prizes poor, marginalized women and will happily put my energy into their service, if I allow him to direct it; and surely the mind behind the aurora borealis can be trusted to handle that.

I believe there’s a juicy sweet spot in America populated by tons of people who would delight in the gospel if they actually could hear it, but if what they hear first is hell, the Law and a six-day creation, they’ll keep rejecting all of it and never know what good news the gospel really is.

So today, I’m changing the tagline on this blog to: Going to the Sea: A Sassy Democrat’s Guide to Faith.

This is who I am. Who are you?

Can’t We At Least Talk About It?

English: Rob Bell at the 2011 Time 100 gala.

Author Rob Bell is blowing my mind right now.

Bell is a speaker/creator/musician/entrepreneur/filmmaker and former pastor of one of the fastest growing churches in America. In 2011, he was named to Time Magazine’s list of the 100 most influential people in the world. That same year he landed on the magazine’s cover for setting a doctrinal wildfire in the evangelical community.

In his book Love Wins, Bell challenged the orthodox Christian view of hell and suggested Christians should leave room for uncertainty on the matter.

Big trouble. Sides were chosen, tweets were tweeted, the word heresy was affixed, but in our frantic, digital infotainment age where everybody knows everything with 100% certainty at all times, I thought it was refreshing to hear somebody say, maybe we don’t know for sure, let’s talk about it.

After all, what good is doctrinal certainty if it drives people away from the gospel?

I don’t have an opinion on Love Wins because I read only half of it. I put it down because I couldn’t handle it. It was confronting my early, fragile beliefs about Christianity and when things are fragile you tend to build walls around them.

Bell calls that bricklaying in his first book, Velvet Elvis and he advises against it.

“Each of the core doctrines…is like an individual brick that stacks on top of the others. If you pull one out, the whole wall starts to crumble. It appears quite strong and rigid, but if you begin to rethink or discuss even one brick, the whole thing is in danger.”

Alternatively, Bell says, knowing God should be like jumping on a trampoline – a giddy and consuming experience made possible by the springs holding the mat and frame together. The springs, Bell says, are the doctrines of Christian faith that give structure to the experience, and he believes they are designed to flex. He reminds us that The Bible has already withstood centuries of communal scrutiny and debate, and in fact, that’s how early Jews and Christians settled their issues of faith –  through study, reflection and discussion within their communities.

My understanding of God is springier now than it was a year ago when I put Love Wins down. I’m more comfortable hearing opinions that mess with mine, because I’m bouncing more than I’m hiding behind bricks. The most interesting Christians I know are doing the same thing.

Even if I wind up disagreeing with Bell’s opinions, I admire his willingness to wrestle with scripture and challenge conventional wisdom in a public forum. That’s brave, especially given America’s touchy religious climate. Love him or hate him, Bell is a seeker who isn’t censoring his findings in order that people like him.

“The ultimate display of our respect for the sacred words of God,” Bell says, “is that we are willing to wade in and struggle with the text – the good parts, the hard-to-understand parts, the parts we wish weren’t there.”