A Good Reason to Adjust

Christianity began when Jesus started his public ministry. The first guy to ever start tailing him and doing what he did like a kid brother or something was the first Christian. They probably started following him around because he made some conversation with them. They probably were looking over their shoulder to see if he was talking to someone else. They probably did this because they were the scum of the earth. They were probably only ever talked about. And I mean in derision and disgust. Jesus probably said something complimentary and *gasp* shook his hand. He probably asked him why he was wasting his time on such sinful hobbies and told him to come hang out with him instead. Now there was a heart alive. You have no idea how happy that made that fellow. For him to have a friend. Now Jesus' following grew, I imagine, in much this same way and these guys started turning into some decent chaps, lowly though they were. On the other hand all the big, fancy-dressed, scholarly joes of Israel have got their robes in a tangle. The idea that Jesus is running around wising everybody up and breaking bread with sinners just eats them through their ephods.

Nearly 2,000 years later...

The modern Christian is a little different. He is fashionable to a tee. Well read and educated. He walks around being kind to people, because well, they need him. They won't be caught dead sinning (in public) and Jesus is there answer to everything. Really, politics, social opinions. You name it. Our sinners of the day have changed too. They have their own union. Christianity repulses them, but not half so much as Christians.

What changed? Did Christians ride on grace to a loftier castle? Listen to author Philip Yancey's take on the evolution in his book The Jesus I Never Knew:

The more unsavory the characters, the more at ease they seemed to feel around Jesus. People like these found Jesus appealing: a Samaritan social outcast, a military officer of the tyrant Herod, a quisling tax collector, a recent hostess to seven demons.
In contrast, Jesus got a chilly response from more respectable types. Pious Pharisees thought him uncouth and worldly, a rich young ruler walked away shaking his head, and even the open-minded Nicodemus sought a meeting under the cover of darkness.
I remarked...how strange this pattern seemed, since the Christian church now attracts respectable types who closely resemble the people most suspicious of Jesus on earth. What has happened to reverse the pattern of Jesus' day? Why don't sinners like being around us?

It's a question. Sinners liked being around Jesus. Sinner's don't like being around us. Could it be that we have become very much unlike Christ? Could it be that Christian has become nothing but a whopping misnomer?

We need to adjust.

Grace, Lord, Grace.

Those poor crowd-sculpted equestrian figures. High horse and pedestals and all that jazz. Until recently I was dishonest with myself about putting certain people on a pedestal and projecting them places they cannot possibly measure up to. Now quite frankly I admit it. Not so much with negative connotations though. It would neither surprise me nor discourage me if one of these heroes or heroine were to "disappoint." In fact, I know they display fallibility in the same way I know God created the universe. I cannot possibly fathom it, because it has not happened on my senses, but I know it is a fact of life. Truth be told, the chances are high that in the instance they did become dethroned, I would still hold them in the same esteem. My sanity and my stability are a product of grace, not of endurance or strength. Woe be to me if I don't grant the same to my fellow man. I find the denial of grace to be heathenistic, heretical, and horrific. I realize such a statement puts me in an imperative position to be tested. So be it. I cannot and will not go on with this hypocrisy. If God is capable of this amazing feat, and I am on relative terms with His Spirit, and sent-Comforter, and earthly manifestation, then I have no excuse in not participating in the act of forgiveness. Right now it seems mighty easy to forgive. I don't know if this is some sort of inexperienced deception or not. But if I've been wrong or let down, life will go on, and so will my love. This is the power of the almighty God in us. This gift is real and potent. I am repulsed by sin, and will mourn for those who fall temporarily to its arsenal, but I will never, ever have esteem for someone in a moment and disdain in the next. God help me, it was be a crime in itself. I cannot judge lest, Heaven forbid, I be judged. If one falls, they are tortured enough, be gentle in your rescue, I implore you readers. Half our heroes are just ragamuffins. Those that Brennan Manning speaks of: "the bedraggled, beat-up, and burnt out, the sorely burdened still shifting the heavy suitcase from one hand to another. The wobbly and weak-kneed who know they don't have it all together..." or those named "legion" that C.S. Lewis speaks of that look at them selves and see "a zoo of lusts, a bedlam of ambitions, a nursery of fears, and a harem of fondled hatreds." To often we are proudly pounding the gavel and haughtily and often dishonestly saying, "May God have mercy on your soul." May God have mercy on all our souls. Grace, Lord, grace.

"To punch and to kick"

"Anybody can teach you how to punch and kick."

If I've heard it once I've heard it a million times. It's what set him apart. Him being Master Scott Heath. An unsung hero of sorts.

Well he's a lot of things. He is a Christ-follower, husband, father, defender, investigator, martial artist, storyteller, teacher, mentor, friend, dreamer, worker, and the list could go on.

He's a mensch. He's always tried to be a man of integrity and as his life testifies, whatever he tries at, he succeeds at.

He has a story that I could never do justice to. Though it is an inspirational one. For all the "can't do's" he's been thrown, he's retaliated with a "can do." Perhaps one day I can get him to offer his story forth to the Classical Ride readers.

But somewhere in that story, that is continuing as I type, he wound up in our lives, and it was no accident.

On a personal note, he revolutionized my lifestyle and my persona. I was weak and he made me stronger in many ways through his classes. I was a sniveling, self-depreciating, sometimes bratty kid. In a lot of ways I was a loser. I knew it. I know it better now. But he renovated my spirit in a way. It was God, oh sure I know that, but he was a vessel. Probably the greatest gift he gave me was confidence. With it came freedom from fear and also ability. The way I looked at myself and acted changed. It was like having a brand new heart. I felt purpose for the first time in a long time.

So here's to Master Heath.

You sir, have left a legacy.

Walk the Line

This is nearly my life's philosophy. It's funny that one's whole journey on planet earth can be summed up in three words scrawled out in a backstage dressing room and put to a "freight train" rhythm. The writer, Johnny Cash, had a sweet promise to stay true to his love in mind. So do I, just maybe in a broader sense. I am not specifically talking about a relationship between a man and his wife, though that is noble and can come in the package. I mean more along the lines of doing what is right. Walking the line. In this world there is plenty to get drunk on. We are plenty educated on that. We need a Saviour to sober us up and He will. Many in the world are alcoholics and this is a tragedy. Sometimes intervention is necessary. Sometimes rehab isn't such a bad thing. Sometimes we need a guiding hand. Sometimes we need the humility of a black get-up. Sometimes we need to be hurt. Sometimes we need to look back on our past and feel the regrets. Sometimes we need a best friend. But we always need a Father, and He's always there. When you're so sloppy drunk you can't hear Him or see Him. When you wake up half dead of a hangover. He sits beside your bed with the hot coffee. He gets you back on your feet, combs your hair buttons up your shirt and gives you a little shove. Fall in love...

Walk the Line

Question II...The Derived Persona

Once again I have to revoke my Cool Hand Luke borrowed phrase "I can eat fifty eggs" and admit, I just don't know. I have often theorized, as I'm sure others have with me, that perhaps individuality is but a myth. Tinkering with such a time-honoured claim is foolish if one wants to maintain a fanbase. However, I prefer answers to fickle fans. Could it be that each man or woman's persona is only derivative of those one surrounds themselves with. Then, our "uniquity" could be explained by the fact that we each surround ourselves with a different social set. And we give and we take and even create from what we see and hear from around us. These things we call original are not our invention at all, but a beautiful conglomeration of outside ingredients. I would appreciate anyone's response on the matter. Don't me dogmatic, don't be shy. The question:

Is there an innate personality?