Le Provocateur
Less of a rant and more of a ramble this time around...
I've been thinking a lot lately about my faith. As most folks that tune into this blog with any sort of regularity already know, I consider myself a Christian and have done my entire life. I'm not a particularly fantastic ambassador for my faith and my screw-ups often manage to be big, obnoxious and sometimes very public, but that's my story.
As a Christian, though, I've begun asking myself a few sobering questions and I've begun worrying about what the answer to many of them might be. Recently, my sister, Lauren, asked me if Carey and I would agree to become their new daughter's Godparents. I didn't know what a Godparent was, so I asked.
"For Ellie," she said, "it would be someone she can look to for spiritual leadership and encouragement. Someone with a special relationship with her, who's committed to praying for her and helping to guide her toward a growing, lifelong relationship with God."
I nodded, feeling honored, but couldn't help but wonder what the answer to the most obvious question might be:
"Me?"
Sometimes I stop to consider what my place is in the Grand Scheme. We Christians consider the church a "body" and not all body parts perform the same function. A leg is not an arm is not a heart is not a pancreas. An encourager may not be a teacher may not be a merciful giver may not be peacemaker. So which body part am I?
Carey and I are beginning to, slowly but surely, grow more active in our church. We regularly attend a small group here in Long Beach and, for the first time in years, we've begun to build relationships with other Christians. It's been a long while since Christian fellowship has happened in our lives with any degree of regularity and to say we'd been missing it would be an understatement. But, even in our small group, I'm beginning to grow convicted:
What's my role? Who am I? What part do I play?
Sometimes I worry that I'm, er, That Guy.
You know That Guy. That Guy is full of sound and fury, but contributes very little of substance. That Guy is really good at stirring up a discussion, but rarely has a definitive answer to the questions put forth. That Guy sounds fairly informed and has even done a fair bit of research, but, ultimately, he's only there to provoke. He's an interesting acquaintance, but a lousy friend. That Guy is never satisified and resists the definitive. He flees easy answers and runs toward the abstract.
He questions everything.
He argues incessantly.
He loves to verbally spar with anyone or anything that dares to call itself "traditional."
Honestly, I don't know if I'm That Guy. On the one hand, it wouldn't be so bad. After all, there are certainly worse things to be. If a group is getting stale or self-important, sometimes it's nice to throw That Guy into the mix.
If I am That Guy, though, sometimes it gets me down.
I read lots of blogs and I visit lots of message boards. A number of them are Christian-themed and they're run by people I know and respect. On a few of them, in the past few months, I've made a conscious decision: I'll read, but I won't comment. My comments far too often lead to arguments and, frankly, I've begun to wonder if those arguments are worth it. I worry that my contrarian spirit betrays my snobbishness and, ultimately, damages my relationship with those I care about.
Besides, it's not like I'm going to change anyone's mind about anything, am I? It's equally unlikely that they'll change mine, right?
So is it enough to provoke? Is "just wanted to make ya think" a worthy pursuit?
Do I contribute anything of any value?
Well?
I've been thinking a lot lately about my faith. As most folks that tune into this blog with any sort of regularity already know, I consider myself a Christian and have done my entire life. I'm not a particularly fantastic ambassador for my faith and my screw-ups often manage to be big, obnoxious and sometimes very public, but that's my story.
As a Christian, though, I've begun asking myself a few sobering questions and I've begun worrying about what the answer to many of them might be. Recently, my sister, Lauren, asked me if Carey and I would agree to become their new daughter's Godparents. I didn't know what a Godparent was, so I asked.
"For Ellie," she said, "it would be someone she can look to for spiritual leadership and encouragement. Someone with a special relationship with her, who's committed to praying for her and helping to guide her toward a growing, lifelong relationship with God."
I nodded, feeling honored, but couldn't help but wonder what the answer to the most obvious question might be:
"Me?"
Sometimes I stop to consider what my place is in the Grand Scheme. We Christians consider the church a "body" and not all body parts perform the same function. A leg is not an arm is not a heart is not a pancreas. An encourager may not be a teacher may not be a merciful giver may not be peacemaker. So which body part am I?
Carey and I are beginning to, slowly but surely, grow more active in our church. We regularly attend a small group here in Long Beach and, for the first time in years, we've begun to build relationships with other Christians. It's been a long while since Christian fellowship has happened in our lives with any degree of regularity and to say we'd been missing it would be an understatement. But, even in our small group, I'm beginning to grow convicted:
What's my role? Who am I? What part do I play?
Sometimes I worry that I'm, er, That Guy.
You know That Guy. That Guy is full of sound and fury, but contributes very little of substance. That Guy is really good at stirring up a discussion, but rarely has a definitive answer to the questions put forth. That Guy sounds fairly informed and has even done a fair bit of research, but, ultimately, he's only there to provoke. He's an interesting acquaintance, but a lousy friend. That Guy is never satisified and resists the definitive. He flees easy answers and runs toward the abstract.
He questions everything.
He argues incessantly.
He loves to verbally spar with anyone or anything that dares to call itself "traditional."
Honestly, I don't know if I'm That Guy. On the one hand, it wouldn't be so bad. After all, there are certainly worse things to be. If a group is getting stale or self-important, sometimes it's nice to throw That Guy into the mix.
If I am That Guy, though, sometimes it gets me down.
I read lots of blogs and I visit lots of message boards. A number of them are Christian-themed and they're run by people I know and respect. On a few of them, in the past few months, I've made a conscious decision: I'll read, but I won't comment. My comments far too often lead to arguments and, frankly, I've begun to wonder if those arguments are worth it. I worry that my contrarian spirit betrays my snobbishness and, ultimately, damages my relationship with those I care about.
Besides, it's not like I'm going to change anyone's mind about anything, am I? It's equally unlikely that they'll change mine, right?
So is it enough to provoke? Is "just wanted to make ya think" a worthy pursuit?
Do I contribute anything of any value?
Well?
posted by Jeremy Bear at
10:19 PM
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