While I was in Phoenix I ate at my favorite local establishment, Oreganos. We sat down at the familiar green table, and without looking at my record shaped menu, I ordered.

“I’ll have the Big Rig with chicken, with extra sauce, with extra cheese, and with no tomatoes.”

“Picky, aren’t you?” she sarcastically remarked.

“Nope, I just like to make sure I get what I want.”

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Our taste buds have opinions and these opinions form our culinary preferences. Some like dark chocolate while others cannot stand its bitterness. Some people will open a bottle of Tabasco and pour it all over their eggs; other people prefer only egg whites. Some like to end their meal with salt, others need to have dessert.

My friends frequently laugh at my lengthy orders. I get all of my food without tomatoes, pickles, and peppers and often add anything that has the adjective “smoky, chipotle, or zesty”. My defense…I want to eat what I prefer.

We all have preferences, and we live our lives with these in mind.

As illustrated in my detailed food requests, we make demands based on these preferences. We inform the car dealership of our desired option package, we tell our hairdresser (or cosmetic engineer) how we like our hair, and we tell the cable provider what package we would like. We are constantly communicating our preferences.

I find it interesting that as generously as we share our preferences with those in service industries, we are often sluggish to share our preferences for care. We are slow to discuss how we would like to be loved. We are hesitant to communicate our expectations with a friend.

Why is this? What are we afraid of?

Imagine relationships where you knew what was expected of the other. What if you could sit with a sibling and describe the loyalty that you need to feel from them? What if you were honest about moments in which you needed care and asked to be cared for? What if you described your desire to experience more joy and less sorrow in conversation? What if you laid out your expectations for your spouse? What if you explained your need for physical touch, a good conversation, or a quite night at home?

Why are we so intentional as we order our meals and design our custom Prius but take our relationships so lightly? Why do we ask the expectations of our boss as we begin a new job, but are less intentional in our intimate relationships? Are our relationships not the most central rhythm of life? Does God not ask us to value our neighbor as ourselves? Why is it then that we refuse to share our preferences for love with others? Why do we not ask others to share their expectations with us?

To this, I have no answer. Maybe the answer is found in our taste buds.

Logos. Reason. Rationalism. Theology. Academia.
Faith. Child-like. Mystery. Spirit. Risk.

Two seemingly opposite streets.

I looked down both of these streets about 18 months ago. Which one did I choose?

Not sure. But I did choose graduate school.

During my short time in seminary I have filled my mind with over 15,000 pages of theology and theory. There have been heated discussions around homosexual intercourse, social action, artistic excellence, and gender difference. I have used scripture to defend my faith and challenge others. I have quoted theologians and philosophers whose names will twist your tongue like an Auntie Anne's pretzel. And I have found great joy in many of these endeavors.

But a year into my education I find myself longing for something different. Something more elementary. Something basic. Something child like.

Now, I understand that these two "streets" I have created atop this post do not actually move in opposite directions. I understand that they are more like individual lanes on the same highway. But at times they weave in and out of one another. One lane narrows as the other grows. Perhaps one lane is an exit only, and the other the HOV lane. Perhaps one freeway has a wide shoulder and the other one is under construction. Anyone following this analogy? Me neither. What am I trying to say is…

The faith of a scholar is not to be without the faith of a child. To pursue one without recognizing the necessity of the other is foolish. This is the battle Christians face as we wade in a pool of both absolute truth and absolute mystery often trying to dunk one or the other only to find ourselves gasping for air.

This is the tension I find myself in today. On the path of a scholar, working hard to regain my child like reckless abandon.

With that conviction, I created.




Childish Things (2007)
Jarrod Shappell
Found Objects, Fishing Line, Magic
On Display at Mars Hill Graduate School

I am assuming that all of you have heard of NBC’s “To Catch a Predator”. Taryn and I found ourselves watching another installment last night, and have now seen this show twice. While millions of viewers flock to watch this “humilitainment”, I have to admit that I have a hard time watching.

I had once heard that shame is the primary ingredient for change.

If that is the case, then this show may be affective. Is there anything more shameful than driving 90 minutes from upstate NY to New Jersey to elicit sex from a 13 year old only to find a plate of stale brownies and a Chris Hanson of Dateline NBC? Probably not. Shame in this case may lead to change. Worldwide humiliation is a great tactic to encourage change. Agreed. But is it necessary?

Is there not a greater shame? Does not the Gospel show us that real shame is in turning the other cheek? Is there no greater shame than love granted by an enemy?

But what does that imply? Am I suggesting that the sting operations halt, and awareness of online pedophilia come to a close? If we were to “love our enemy” in this case, does that mean that these men go free? Should we even be “turning the other cheek” to legal infringement?

I wrestle with this. To ignore it is flight. To confront it is fight. To turn the other cheek gives a different tactility. But what does that look like in this case? Is there not a better way to shame these men without ruining their families and careers while intitiating a change in heart?

Grrr.

I bought a Wii. So far it is one of my favorite gadget purchases E.V.E.R.

Watching other’s play Wii is hysterical.



Its like watching someone sleep walk. You know that you are no longer in the same world. While you are concerned with what’s for dinner and what homework you have to complete that evening, all they can think about is getting the “super serve” going so they can beat Niko and Gynn in tennis.

As reported, there have been many Wii injuries.



I still have both my eyes, but could not sleep last night because of the shoulder I injured while waxing Blaine.

Many may be wondering how my wife feels about me purchasing a video game system. She loves it.

Interesting little graph.

This graph is obviously more than a protestant Christian assessment. This calculation includes many different religions including Buddhist, Catholic, Mormon, and others.

Anything surprise you? What about your personal city? Is there a trend that is surprising? I can't help but notice the lack of "religious" people along the central/northern west coast. In three of the "fastest cities" in the country, there is less than 35.1% religious adherence in Seattle, Portland, and San Francisco. Interesting.

How do you feel after reading this graph? Is religious adherence a positive thing? Can it be a negative thing? Do you get excited about this graph's reflection on your area? Does this graph even matter or does it lack sufficient data?

Graphs make me smile.

While I do not often use my blog space for personal updates, I would like to do so today. Today I have realized that I am half way done (in terms of credits) with my graduate program…and that's just plain futs. I wrote the bulk of this blog six months ago:

Many friends and family members ask, "how's school going?". Often times I give short inadequate responses. I say, "it's crazy!" or "oh brooooother" or "I'd rather shoot myself in the calf". But as many of you know, Mars Hill Graduate School is not your run of the mill seminary. While we may still create our own language that sounds like Klingon to outsiders, remove ourselves from culture at times, and discuss things that ultimately divide rather than unite...my experience at this school has been transformational.

I will add my own words in a short minute, but I would first like to quote a fellow student of mine.

"I use to be so good at being fine. I use to smile and walk away like some untouchable unbreakable myth. Damn it this school sucks. They should warn you somehow that your eyes will be opened here and that it will sting like hell. They should warn you your heart will start feeling again. They should warn you that life can be sad, and if you really look at it all, your heart will ache for the world, for yourself, for the people around you. Then with just as much depth the people around you have the capacity to forever make you shudder and awe at their glory. They should warn you that not many will understand what your looking at and that they will make you feel crazy for noticing. They should warn you, and they did, but there is no way I could have ever imagined."

Sounds fun, eh? Through the unique educational experience here at Mars Hill I find myself blessed and cursed. I cannot sit with a friend who has lost a loved one without shedding my own tears. I can no longer ignore my responsibility in caring for the world around me. I no longer take lightly the words of encouragement from a family member. I no longer encounter others as objects to be converted, but people that need to be approached and cared for in a way that is unique and individual. I no longer see talents and positions to be used and exploited, but creative individuals that are called to live their lives in ways they have yet to experience.

That sounded like I have just turned into a big sensitive cuddly bear...but I am not saying that this place has been rainbows and butterflies on Planet Earth in HD on my 55" Sony SDX Television. I struggle with the stereotypical seminary behaviors. I struggle with fellow students who would rather argue with one another over the inerrancy of the Bible or feminist issues than serve their neighbor. I struggle with the narcissism that is often found as we wade through our stories and psychologically deconstruct our past. I struggle with the lack (that's right lack) of Biblical critique in many of our seminary courses.

So with all of that said...I love this place...and I hate this place. This school brings breathtaking highs and heart pounding lows. But perhaps that is who God calls us to be. Perhaps we are to truly mourn with those who mourn and in the same moment celebrate the beauty found in our world and in others. Perhaps God intends on this roller coaster full of risk and sacrifice in the name of others. If that is the case, I have just sat down on that coaster, pulled down the harness, and am climbing up that first hill anticipating the lifelong corkscrews, figure eights, inverted crow twists (the X baby!), and weight defying drops. While the voice of Christianity that burrowed its home in my head speaks of safety, comfort, and complacency...God calls us to a land of extremes...tears followed by laughter, justice along side grace, anger lined with compassion.

This is the life I am called to. To be. To give. To see. Love.

Its been a while since an entry...there will be many in July I am sure. June was simply too busy with house guests.

As a member of Anamchara, MHGS' community focused branch of student leadership, we constantly ask the question of how we create community in a city that appears to live in isolation. I have asked many of those same questions (of Seattle, creatives, and our evolving cultural position) here on this blog. This video gives little hope, but reaffirms the need for the gospel in our community.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=roC_nsdyi1I

(They won't let me embed it, so just click the link you lazy bums)

There is so much to be taken from this clip. Hopefully I will have time to share my thoughts over the next few weeks.

Enjoy the 4th.