Growth through pain

Last month I started working in earnest on a new big-band chart, an arrangement of a tune, "Summit in the Snow," that I wrote 25 years ago. The tune was inspired by a early March (thus, still winter) heart-to-heart talk in a city park with a student at one of the local women's colleges that at the time I had hoped to marry -- she, then and still a friend, was trying to "let me down easy" because I learned a couple of weeks earlier that she was dating someone else and I was, quite obviously, very upset.

So why would I even want to revisit that pain? Because the LORD used this particular relationship, despite the sad ending, to produce growth in me that I hadn't had before and, really, haven't had since. She had actually awakened a desire in me that I had never before experienced, but I recognized that I was powerless -- not only over her but also, at that time, my entire life, so I was forced to turn to Him. Since I knew that was His goal, I accepted the suffering of, in this case, unrequited love as part of the process. I also knew that He never promised her to me, so I was ready for even a "no" to my request. (Which I ended up withdrawing the next year.) Not only that, but it's a truism that pain produces the best creative product because you have to summon resources from a deep place in you, and big-band writing of late has become a passion of mine.

You see, Jesus promised that His followers would be "up against it" and thus have to learn to trust Him. Why does He do this? Darned if I know. However, I've told her a number of times that I didn't realize how messed up I was until I met her, and for that I'm grateful that God put her in my life -- even if it meant grief for a time.

“Believe Out Loud” — obscuring the point

The blogosphere has recently been riled by the Sojourners organization, generally progressive and the sponsor of the “God’s Politics” blog that I frequent, over its refusal to support a Mother's Day ad featuring a lesbian couple and their son (the focus of the ad) entering a church — while parishioners stare at them, the officiating pastor says, “All are welcome.” Sojourners’ rationale for rejecting the ad was that accepting it might threaten a broad-based coalition to fight domestic poverty it's trying to assemble because conservatives wouldn't associate with it. Sojourners is certainly right about that.

But there's a larger issue: The organization that produced the ad, called “Believe Out Loud” and which I understand to be an association of 10 mainline denominations, is unabashedly pro-gay; as such, its underlying message is not that gays shouldn't be welcomed into the church (they should) but that they shouldn't be required to change to belong. Such a stance spits in the face of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, Who calls us not to a “good” or “moral” life but a transformed one. And while I have never accepted homosexuality as morally good and never will do so, there's a larger point to be made.

Which is: The core of the Christian message is that you can't make it on your own because of a chronic condition called “sin.” You can approach Jesus properly if, and only if, you recognize that your life is a mess — an insult to even “good church folks” (which is why the religious authorities hated Him) but a source of hope to the desperate. And rather than cleaning up one's act to come to Him, He does the cleaning. This is the part that many mainline and “liberal” churches miss — redemption.

My previous church, while not openly “gay-affirming,” toward the end of my time there had a number of gay couples who came in (which I didn't entirely notice) because the lead pastor was gay-affirming in many of his sermons, though in fairness he was right on a lot of other things. Over time, I noticed the spiritual discernment in the church, strong when I started, begin to slip and it developed a very bad reputation in the local Christian singles community; I eventually had to leave because I found myself backsliding a bit. My church previous to that was overtly gay-affirming and had no discernment whatsoever; I told my mother years later that we as a family should never had gone there in the first place.

On the other hand, my present church is full of those who weren't always “good church people” — substance abusers and gang-bangers, for example — and violence and prostitution have been rampant in that immediate neighborhood. However, one reason the church has grown so much over the past two decades is because, while we opened the doors, we never watered down that message of transformation; as a result, half our testimonies during our annual Thanksgiving service are given by people who are staying “clean and sober.” (And though I rarely drink and have never used drugs, I applaud right along with them.) And while many of us still have issues — I mean, who doesn't? — we recognize what God has called us to and commit ourselves to knowing Him; my CLC group right now is studying the late Michael Yaconelli's book “Messy Spirituality.”

This is why we evangelicals don't mix too well with what we consider liberal Christianity — for our purposes it means two different and entirely contradictory things.

I see a certain irony in the pastor's line “All are welcome” because I wonder: Will Jesus Himself be welcome? Not just the kind, nurturing figure emphasized in the Gospels but the King and Judge who will eventually come down and kick some butt. (They are the same person, you know.) The “Believe Out Loud” group, in its desire to foster “inclusion,” instead is in danger of excluding, in the words of Ron Sider, “the full Biblical Christ” due to making Him in their own image.

Thank you, Miss Davis

A few moments ago I learned about the passing of Marian Davis, who retired in 1981 as the sixth-grade teacher at what is now known as Trinity Christian School in suburban Pittsburgh. It's perhaps not unusual to give props to teachers who have influenced your life, for good (in this case) or ill.

However, Miss Davis, I realized just a few years ago, holds a special distinction: She was, in effect, my first evangelist.

I came in 1971, in the fifth grade, to what was then the Christian School of Wilkinsburg, and in retrospect it was never a good fit. I was regularly bullied, usually on the bus home from school but also at home and, since I don't come from a classically Christian family where the Bible was the law of the house, many of the concepts of the faith just didn't make sense at the time. Even though I was a fairly bright student, excellent athlete and talented musician, I had trouble building relationships with schoolmates and ended up leaving the school during seventh grade because that teacher and I never got along (indeed, to this day I'm convinced that he hated my guts).

That atmosphere made my year with Miss Davis all the more remarkable and influential.

I'm not sure just how she viewed me back then, but I think I always felt that I counted with her. From her I got a lot of encouragement that in those days came from nowhere else in my life. One day she put me in charge of devotions and the Pledge of Allegiance while she left the room, and at the time I had no idea why she did that.

Decades later, it dawned on me: She was trying to get me to exercise some leadership. (She said later, "You were so timid.")

Every Thursday we had a ritual called the "Number Game," in which two students faced off to guess the answer to math problems that she had on flash cards; the first to guess correctly the first time got a point and moved on. Let me say that, if there existed a Hall of Fame for Number Game participants, I would have been a charter member because the game almost always ended when I was defeated, often with double-digit points (high game 41), while I don't recall anyone else getting any more than nine. Although my extreme success came at the expense of my classmates, I think Miss Davis was pleased to see me do something very, very well and develop confidence.

But it was the spiritual side that Miss Davis first nurtured in me. Once I came into class during one of my angry tirades, which unfortunately wasn't unusual, and she prayed for me -- by name -- that morning. Even in more private moments she was telling me that I needed to become a Christian; today I'm convinced that she had been praying for years for that day to come.

On May 16, 1979, just weeks before my graduation from Wilkinsburg High School, those prayers were answered. That afternoon at the school district picnic, facing my parents' impending breakup and seeing my future in the process -- to say nothing of an eternity separated from God -- I finally threw in my lot with Jesus Christ. I decided to call her three months later, just before going off to Georgia Tech, to let her know, and that was the second thing she asked.

The last time I saw her (in this life, that is) I attended her 94th birthday party in October at the personal-care home between Ellwood City and New Castle, Lawrence County, north of Pittsburgh, where she last lived. A couple I knew from our mutual church and kept in touch with her took some photos of us, and I will keep them in my Bible for as long as I walk this earth.

Whatever her flaws or influence on her other students, for what she did for me alone should earn her the ultimate accolade from God: "Well done, good and faithful servant!"

So here's to you, Marian Davis. And see ya later.

Christian women and sexuality

Some years ago I struck up a friendship with one of the women, unfortunately now deceased, who volunteered at the welcome center at my church. She was an attractive, friendly divorcee, had two daughters and worked in the health field.

During our second or third conversation, she wistfully confided to me, "I've been celibate for four years" -- obviously, not liking that -- and a part of me out of compassion felt like giving her what I knew she wanted. (Of course, the Biblical prohibition against sex outside of marriage kept me from trying to seduce her, not that I would have been successful anyway.)

I attend a lot of Christian singles events, these days dominated by folks in their 40s and older and probably a majority divorced, which means they have experienced sexual intimacy in a way that I haven't (though I admit to having occasionally crossed some lines that I shouldn't have). And probably most of them, including the women, "want it."

I was fortunate to grow up in a church that promoted a healthy view of sexuality -- beautiful if done right but ugly if done wrong. However, many of us didn't, that it's a subject that should be avoided until the proper time -- that is, the wedding night -- which I never understood. And as much as we may want to say differently, there still exists worldwide a cultural double standard that sex is somehow OK for us men but that women should give it only grudgingly. (Perhaps if a woman decided that she actually enjoyed sex for its own sake she may leave her partner if he doesn't satisfy her. While I can't say for sure, I surmise that's the motive behind the euphemism "female circumcision"; in cultures that practice it only the man is apparently supposed to derive pleasure from sex. Trouble is, that's not how God made us.)

And then, there's the issue of true intimacy, what most people, I would say especially women, are seeking but often not finding. Two girls in my childhood denomination, but not my specific church, that I knew fairly well who came from what I now know to be dysfunctional backgrounds became pregnant while still in their teens, one at 14. In the book "Beyond Culture Wars: A Mission Field or a Battlefield?", author Michael Horton noted that one out of every six abortions in the United States happens to an evangelical woman, which also suggests that something else other than "the act" is afoot. That's probably why my heart went out to the woman at the welcome center who expressed her cravings -- I understood what she really wanted.

Once in a while I receive on-line tips on how to get a woman into bed, and today I probably could if I really wanted to. That, however, smacks of exploitation, which I don't believe is how a truly strong man should operate -- he should focus on what he can give to, not get from, a woman. Last year I wrote about the late Teddy Pendergrass' performance of the 1978 song "Close the Door," which I didn't realize then but understand now is about true intimacy in the context of a committed relationship, hopefully marriage. God help me to "man up."

Obama, Bush and Clinton

The so-called birther movement has gone mainstream -- and that's sad.

You may recall that real estate mogul Donald Trump, now a Republican presidential candidate, has apparently taken the bait and is making noise that President Barack Obama wasn't actually born in this country, this despite evidence to the contrary. (For the record, he was born Aug. 4, 1961, in Honolulu, and the state of Hawaii has provided proof. After I started writing this piece, he produced the long form but still hasn't shut up the critics.)

Let's be honest that the obsession with Obama's birthplace masks the real issue -- that he's in office, which for reasons I don't understand sticks in the craw of some people. Or perhaps I do understand -- he beat them fairly and squarely, so he must be destroyed or denigrated. When are we Christians going to have any discernment and recognize this Obamaphobia as motivated by hate and envy?

We've seen this mess before: With Bill Clinton. Upon his reelection in 1996, his enemies vowed to have him impeached and removed; they got the first all right, but their evidence turned out to so weak that legal experts warned ahead of time that he shouldn't be convicted, let alone have been brought to trial in the first place. According to Jeffrey Toomer's book "A Vast Conspiracy," Clinton's lawyer time and time again refuted the evidence that the House managers put forward and, when the Senate found him "not guilty," they slunk away.

So, what's the difference between the right's treatment of Bill Clinton and Barack Obama and the left's treatment of, say, George W. Bush? Like night and day.

What's often overlooked is that, as much as it may have hated him, the left almost never said anything about Bush that couldn't be proven from multiple sources as factually true. Ended up with the office due to a questionable Supreme Court decision? True. Had alcohol problems? True. Went to war in Iraq to settle a score with Saddam Hussein? True ("He tried to kill my dad"). Former Sen. and presidential candidate George McGovern wrote an op-ed in the Washington Post that, for their actions connected with Iraq, Bush and Cheney ought to have been impeached. (And he didn't even feel that way about Richard Nixon, who beat him in the 1972 election.)

But what was said about Clinton? That he was doing shady dealings with Whitewater, a venture in which he and Hillary lost money. That he supposedly hired someone to go through files of President George H.W. Bush. (Overblown.) That he raped a woman in Arkansas. (Not likely.) That he allegedly had a bunch of people who crossed him killed. (Another website, "Liberalism Resurgent," once published a "Bush Body Count" detailing the people that met similarly "suspicious deaths" courtesy of GWB and his father. Now, if you expect me to believe that one ...)

Face it, folks -- we're talking double standard here. Let's end it -- now.

My "favorite" misintepreted Scripture passages

One of my pet peeves is the misuse of Scripture to make points that it simply doesn't because of either misunderstanding its context or distorting its meaning to make a cheap political point. Below represent some I'm aware of:

1) "The poor you will always have with you ... " -- Matthew 26:11, Mark 14:7, John 12:8

These words of Jesus are often used to suggest that nothing should be done for the poor on a political/structural level and that the truly Biblical way to deal with the poor should always be through private charity.

However, consider the background: All the references make clear that a woman had anointed Jesus with some extremely expensive perfume as a symbol of his upcoming burial; in response, His disciple Judas Iscariot had complained that it could have been sold and the money given to the poor. Indeed, the rest of Mark 14:7 reads: " ... and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have Me." Nothing at all concerning the "justice vs. charity" argument.

2) "For even when we were with you, we gave you this rule: 'The one who is unwilling to work shall not eat.' " -- 2 Thessalonians 3:10

This passage is often used to say that people should find work and not mooch off others or the government. However, the church of that day was convinced that Jesus would be returning in the next few years, so a few folks were just sitting around and waiting, not being active in any way. While telling people to find work is a good thing, it's not provable using this specific reference.

3) "No one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again ... " -- John 3:3

Two problems with this passage. One, I understand that the original Greek renders the phrase "born again" as "born from above." Two, we often misinterpret it as accessing the afterlife. But it's clear from the conversation with Nicodemus, who as a Jew wouldn't have focused on that, was trying to pay Jesus a compliment by saying "You must be from God because Your teachings are first-rate"; Jesus responded, "If you don't look at things from His perspective, you won't recognize what He's doing in the here and now." Essentially, He was telling Nicodemus, "You miss the point."

4) The woman caught in adultery, John 8.

Here, Jesus is often referred to as being merciful toward her by telling the Pharisees who were about to stone her to death, "Let him without sin cast the first stone." However, this was a case where He went completely "by the book."

First, the Law made clear that her partner in crime was also to be stoned to death but, conveniently, was nowhere to be found. Second, to accuse someone of a capital crime you had to have at least two eyewitnesses; however, to watch people actually having sexual relations also was illegal, leading me to believe that it was a "sting" operation. Third, and most obscure, according to Leviticus 15:18: "When a man has sexual relations with a woman and there is an emission of semen, both of them must bathe with water, and they will be unclean till evening" -- that is, assuming that her partner had an ejaculation, they brought a ceremonially unclean woman into the temple, where Jesus was teaching. Bottom line, the Pharisees, who were trying to nail Jesus in a Catch-22, instead were forced to withdraw the accusation.

That's what I have -- anyone have any others?

Lenten discipline

Over the past four years I've had my somewhat dormant passion for big-band jazz revived by playing in one, and from the start our director has encouraged us to bring in charts that we write ourselves, with nearly half the band doing so. Two years ago I decided to step up to the plate myself, so, inspired by a sermon I heard in church, I ordered a copy of the music notation computer program Finale. I just finished my fourth chart, and some of the other guys seem to think I have real talent as an arranger.

However, in January I joined a Christian Leadership Concepts men's small group through my church, and earlier this week I found myself trying to finish that chart rather than studying the material the way I should have been. At that point I realized that my priorities were getting out of whack.

So, I'm doing something I've never done before: Giving up something -- in this case, Finale -- for Lent. (That is, after I tape the parts together.)

Because I grew up in a conservative Presbyterian denomination, I never paid all that much attention to the season, even in other churches I've attended where it was part of the liturgical calendar. But I've now come to appreciate the discipline.

It's really a time of fasting -- indeed, our bass trombonist, who is Russian Orthodox, is doing that now -- but not necessarily from food and not for its own sake. Really, it's an attempt to put away things temporarily that might be very good in favor of focusing upon God for a time. I've long heard about folks giving up sweets; I know of two women who abstained from going on Facebook. In my case, even though utilizing my musical talent is good, doing so can interfere with spiritual goals (and has done so).

So I've pledged not to begin any more arrangements until May. God willing, the program will still be there and I'll be able to write to my heart's content. But first, I must learn to be content in Him.