The Purpose of the Blog

I've journaled off and on for a number of years. I'd like to have something to pass on to my grandkids someday in case they want to know more about me. A few years back I read the biography of John Adams by David McCullough and was inspired by our second president's eloquent letters. I have a wide variety of interests -- theology, history, politics, philosophy, all things Chinese, and so on. Sometimes I think it would almost be an injustice to never write down the things that come into my head. So that is why I've started this blog.

I am resolved to do several things:
1) Never write out of guilt. This is to be a joy and a form of worship. I won't allow thoughts like "I haven't blogged for a while so I'd better do it" into my head.
2) To worship God through this. Today journaling has been widely recognized as a legitimate spiritual discipline. At one time I'm sure that thought seemed crazy. I intend to use blogging as a spiritual discipline -- a place for prayers, questions, and maybe even the occasional answer to a question.
3) To be honest. I've named this blog "On the Verge of Heterodoxy" because I often feel that I am. Even more frightening, I find myself often on the verge of heteropraxy. Yet I have an unshakable conviction that God is big enough for all my questions and that he is not even offended by them. Therefore, I will be honest.

So there we have it. Thanks for reading. I'll be surprised if anyone reads this. No offense, but if you are reading, I didn't do this for you. I did it for me. But you're more than welcome to take interest in my journey.

P.S.
I will occasionally include former journal entries. Here is one from February 12, 2007:

Last night my small group met and they taught me many things about my faith that I had never thought of before. Our discussion centered around issues of simplicity and frugality. I have, since high school, been convinced that the highest form of discipleship is that of St. Francis and the mendicant who sold all, gave it to the poor, and wandered around the countryside doing good deeds. Being convinced of this, I lived a life of guilt knowing that I, unlike them, was unwilling to sacrifice all for Jesus. Consequently, I’ve lived a life absolutely filled with guilt. I have felt guilt every time I eat a steak dinner. I felt guilt when we bought our car six weeks ago. I felt guilt when I was given a Martin guitar by my parents and an iPod by my mother-in-law, Christy. The reason I felt guilt about these things was simple: how could I enjoy a juicy steak when my brothers and sisters around the world are starving.

There is still an element of truth in my old line of thinking, but I have overlooked a dramatic part of the kingdom of God – that, despite the fact that there is pain and suffering in the world, Jesus still chose to celebrate and party. He was able to dine with the wealthy as well as the poor. He rebuked the disciples who objected to perfume being poured upon his body. He made fine wine for a wedding feast and yelled, “The drinks are on me!” My old way of thinking had robbed my life of joy – of being able to sit down and enjoy a fine cup of coffee without feeling like I should go to hell for turning a blind eye to the oppressed. God meets us where we are. He is always contextual. He wants me to learn to live in utter freedom from guilt. He wants me to be able to enjoy my soft bed and thank him for it. And this applies not only to material possessions. He wants me to be able to enjoy being with my family without feeling guilty about the fact that others live alone or in dysfunctional households. This does not diminish my concern for them and for making this world a better place. It does, however, enable me to worship God in everything I do – in things I eat, in the simple pleasure of a conversation with friends, in holding my baby daughter.

I just saw Little Miss Sunshine. I liked it a lot because it was so theological. At the end of the film when Olive is dancing, the crowd jeers at her because they see her act as vulgar. Indeed, I wonder if I had been there what my reaction would have been. I might have felt disgust that an 8-year-old girl had been taught to do a striptease. On the other hand, I wonder what Jesus would have done. Would he have jeered at her? Would he have sat back and watched in silent judgment? Or would he have jumped up on stage and started dancing with her as her family did? Would Jesus have been the guy who jumped up out of his seat and yelled “Yes!” at the end God. Jesus is for losers. The air-brushed, the punctual, and the beautiful just completely missed out. As I of the performance? I think I know the answer to these questions, but they are unsettling to me. I was amazed to watch a totally dysfunctional family go up on stage and act out the kingdom of hear little Olive tell her suicidal homosexual uncle that he will be with her in her heaven, I hear a bit of Jesus’ radical inclusiveness. I think Dwayne was right when he said, “F**k the beauty pageant.” Isn’t it about time that Christians said the same thing? Isn’t it about time we said good-bye to the upward mobility of our culture? I saw Jesus dancing up on that stage and getting mocked. Lord, give me the guts to tell the beauty pageants of this world to get lost. I pray that you would save your church from being that bigoted, judgmental, jeering crowd. Teach me to love indiscriminately as you do. Amen.