The reason for this question’s coming to mind is that my devotion to church, daily Bible reading, etc… has drastically wanned over the past year.  However simple the question, the answer is gravely complex.

Initially, my reason for ceasing my devotions was the random, stochastic pattern that my work in retail sales entailed.  One day I have an eight hour morning shift, the next it’s a five hour closing shift.  One week I have Sunday off, the next I don’t.  The lack of consistency was unnerving and it was easier to not be given to having time alone with God.  The real answer, however, is rooted in my response to both depression and stress.

First and foremost, I am an introvert!  Spending time with other people is a drain on my emotional and psychological wellbeing.  Retail sales requires spending many countless hours with both coworkers and customers.  To re-cooperate from the energy drain of society, I relax by receding into a deep, melancholic reflection on life and the universe.  When conditions  are not favorable for this melancholy, I will resort to various escapisms – watching TV and movies, puttering with house work, dallying on the computer with games and rather aimless research… whatever I can find to bide my time, both fruitful and unfruitful.  For example, I used to work in an ecology laboratory while in college.  As such, I spent many hours with great coworkers in the field and in the lab.  After our long forays in the field, I returned home only to be swiftly greeted by my friends and roommates.  The only social down time, it seemed was the thirty minutes required to shower and hygiene (as the French say fait de la toilette – all the things one does related to personal cleansing rituals in the lavatory).  I loved my coworkers and delight in the company of my friends; however, I need two hours alone for every hour I spend with people.

The most disturbing fact:  Life seems easier without God.  Which is to say: acknowledging His existence while leaving Him alone removes a lot of stress – laboring for Sunday services and  daily Bible study and prayer take a large amount of time from one’s day.

I am a Stoic, Cynic, Nihilist, Gothic Calvanist who leans heavily on radical fundamentalisms of Christianity while accentuating my freedoms in Christ.  Why didn’t any one tell me?  How have I managed to achieve this?

The real problem with this situation is that Emerging Regions get left out!  Astonishing conferences and seminars that would be abundantly helpful to ministries in these Emerging Regions are out of reach.  Ministers of the Gospel from MT, WY, the Dakotas, etc… aren’t capable of making the long trek to FL, MS, VA, et al.  thereby, leaving them out of fellowship.  Cities like Denver, CO; Omaha, NE; St. Paul, MN; and Spokane, WA; rarely have large conventions from the SBC roll through when they can support the efforts (The only large event in the emerging regions I know of was the 1998 Convention – when they adopted the section on the family).  NAMB incessantly talks about mobilizing missionaries to Emerging Regions, but refuses to organize major events in these places.

As I like am fond of saying: drunkards won’t come to church of their own volition, so we need to take church to them.   This Bible Belt paradigm is another venture into the “Christians only” social club mentality that the modern church really needs to work on amending.

Is this something to be outrages over?  Is there truly a problem here?  Don’t be complacent and satisfied with convenience and mediocrity.  God has formed and destined us to be more than what we are and are doing.

My parents are anti tobacco, consume alcohol sparingly (it’s mainly for those special dinners), are die hard repulicans, and are Arminian (even though at least one of their favorite pastors was a staunch Calvanist).  I am a Calvanist, politically neutral (although I’m more liberal than conservative), wish I could drink more than I do (casual drinking and maybe a glass of wine with every dinner), believe tobacco is one of God’s many gifts to man (I smoke a pipe and an occasional cigar), and a border-line Nihilist (I’m thinking about developing essays on Christian Nihilism – similar construction to John Piper’s Christian Hedonism).

As children, were we caught up in the Utopian ideals of a fairytale Christian lief?  Was God another legend that we believed to be true because or parents said it was true?  Were we being sheltered from reality and prevented from learning who we are and what real life is like?  I think so.  Man’s free will and goodness was accentuated, Man’s total depravity and God’s election were shunned.  My parents never drank alcohol until my youngest brother went off to college (there are three of us in all); meanwhile the church we attended was anti-everything:  Anti-Calvin (as far as I know with few exceptions), anti-tobacco, anti-alcohol, anti-homosexual*, and anti-secular government.  Some of my friends from youth group now consume alcohol in varying degrees, some also smoke, some are accepting of gays as Christians and clergy while others are tolerant of them as people.

What’s more is the way these transitions come about.  American & European  literature abounds with coming-of-age tales and the loss of innocence.  As we live, we experience loves and pains.  As we grow, we become hardened and unaccepting of change.  I look back over my life and see where every element of who I am as a person comes from.  I smoke because I had a friend who did and saw how many good and influential people did.  I’m a Calvanist because I’ve both received divine illumination that God is sovereign over everything -including man’s salvation – and I’ve experienced the depravity and hardness of man towards God.  I drink alcohol because I enjoy the beverages (beer, wine and liqueurs).  I’m a gothic tragedian because of the torment of my Martin Luther-esque sin struggles and man’s selfish indifference; while being frustrated with Christian pop culture not focusing on pain, sorrow, loss, hopelessness and all other elements of solemnity and brokenness that truely bring us to a full reliance on Christ as our sovereign.

Everyone says that college is a time of discovery and experimentation as you learn critical life skills and about who you are as a person.  I argue if this voyage is worth $40,000 – $100,000 (depend on what school you go to and how much financial aide you take out).  As my peers and I journeyed together in discovering ourselves, we diverged from what we were trained to believe.  We hold on to some parts of our upbringing but have become our own self.  We have traversed from ignorant childhood to enlightened adulthood and we understand what an ideal myth Utopia is.  Some of us have been burned by this realization and have learned to make do while others seek to create Utopia one brick at a time.  Others of us wallow in the pain of our distopic reality not expecting any altruistic kindness while secretly pining for Paradise.  I find myself mostly caught up in the third and first state and the third – making due, getting by, and cursing the lack of altruism in the hedonist and the church.  What about you?  Were do you stand in your journey and loss of innocence?

The orthodoxy: the total depravity of  humanity.  Apart from the life changing power of the God, humans are only capable of sinning against Him.

The unorthodoxy:  Expect nothing from people, but everything from God.  Christians and non-Christians suffer from a sever lack of altruism and magnanimity.  When such qualities are made evident in a person, then ll praise be to God for motivating them to perform such acts of kindness; otherwise, most people seek to serve themselves rather than God.  They’ll give only when they reap a direct benefit from the program or mission.  They’ll donate out of guilt or to prevent guilt or from peer pressure.  Most people will give out of their excess.  Very few people will give to others when their own pocketbook  is close to empty.  I cannot feed my family alone, but we can all feed each other.

So I repeat – expect nothing from humans, but everything from God.

“You just can’t live with out it!”

“Try Jesus today with no strings attached.”

“Get your little piece of heaven today through Christ’s inner peace.”

Why are we turning to marketing for converts rather than pouring our lives into our friends, relatives and coworkers.  Why do we make convincing arguments instead of begging and pleading for God’s divine intervention to open their eyes an hearts to his truth.  We spend our time in crisis management striving to cooperate for a single church style/stereotype instead of fostering a cooperative commune where we share all things “in common” so none might starve (both physically, spiritually and emotionally) like the early church in acts did.

These ideas are still forming and I have yet to do a serious theological context study to fully flesh this out.  Keep checking back for more insights.

After another bought of silence and he had regained his composure.  Ezekiel resumed his tale, “I was a hero to the loyal citizens of the Imperial Republic.  The Senate and the military honored me with promotions, medals and state dinners because I was the saviour of the Republic, the final victor of the last battle at Hephaestus.  But I knew it was all a lie because I was the only one who could see what I truly was… a butcher of men, a cold hearted killer, the Lord of the Damned!”  Ezekiel sneered as he spoke the title that he had bestowed on himself.  “And so, I have spent the better part of the past two years trying to find a place to call home where my past no longer haunts me.”

The young attendant, Miss Valera Proscinti, gave a sniffle and wiped away the tear that now streamed down her left cheek, “That is a most wretched life to lead.  No man, pardoned criminal or innocent, should have to live such a life.”

With those words the speaker chimed as the comm. line came on, “This is the captain speaking.  All passengers and flight crew please prepare for atmospheric entry.”

“Excuse me,” Valera said standing up so as to carry on with her duties to prepare the few remaining passengers for landing on Raunica.  “May I have your glass please?”

Ezekiel gave her the now empty glass and turned to look out the port before the heat covers closed over them.  Ezekiel let the tears of sorrow silently flow down his cheeks as he mourned for his past and pined for his future.

God repeatedly gives the command, “Be not afraid…” in the preceding chapter.  Then He tells Moses and Joshua that the people will seriously fall off the horse and enter into whoring themselves to false gods.  For this, Israel will be disciplined by ruin.  In the end, God will return His favor upon Israel and they will prosper again.

The point is that we often emphasize the command for courage and being fearless while neglecting the fact that we will fail God.  We proclaim how much we love God, but neglect to proclaim our infidelity with Him.

For myself, as I ruminate on these words, I see that this core message is what I crave.  It is a founding portion of my theology – the total depravity of man.  Humans are incapable of doing any good unless they abide in Christ (John 15); “Apart from the Father, the Son can do nothing.” (John 5:19)  It is this core that leaves me to not trust in methods or formulas for evangelical and ministerial success.  It is this foundation that leaves me to expect NO altruistic, magnanimous generosity from people – especially fellow Christians.  It is this point that buries itself into my flesh as a thorn and keeps me “sober minded” and vigilant (1 Peter 5:8).

I have also long considered what a “Gothic” church would be and sound like.  How would I like to do [this thing we call] church?  The element of human depravity is one of those teachings I would want taught.  It is the depravity of man paired with my own short comings and repentance that forms the starting point for my worship.  When I attend church, the “worship through song” often starts with how wonderful God is, or how glad we are about not going to Hell.  Rarely does a session start with, “O thou merciful God who has shone His favor upon such a lowly worm as I, the chief of sinners.”  Corporate repentance is discouraged because it is a downer.  Parishioners in the American church want warm fuzzy feelings, not broken humility.

Ezekiel lowered the glass from his lips as his blue-grey eyes became distant and his face rigid and cold:

“There I sat on the shores of the abyss,
At the edge of the Sea of Tears
I sat upon the Sands of Time
Watching the pyres burn,
And I wept bitter tears.

Lost in the labyrinth of my mind
I watched the sky turn black.
The sun shone red,
The clouds flew swift as
The sea turned to blood.

I walked to the water’s edge.
Blood lapping at my feet,
Biers burning into the night,
I waded into the deeps
And bathed my soul in blood

Every cresting wave a fire
Every fire a burning bridge
Every bridge a lost hope
I am th’ eternal damned”

Ezekiel’s voice wavered as he spoke the last two stanzas and failed him once finished. Ezekiel pursed his lips and clenched his jaw as he sought to regain his composure and fight back the tears.

Ezekiel looked about him franticly trying to remember where he was.  Before he could ask where he was, Ezekiel remembered.  He was on a long range transport bound for planet 96831: Raunica, his fourth attempt that year to find a place to disappear on the fringe of the Galactic Empire.

“O God!” Ezekiel exclaimed in a hushed whisper as he raised his hands to his face to cover his eyes.

The flight attendant asked for a glass of water and a coworker produced it promptly.  Ezekiel dragged his hands down his face and pulled at his short, stubbly beard.  The attendant handed Ezekiel the glass of water and sat down in the empty seat across the aisle from him.

“Thank you,” Ezekiel said when he had finished taking a few sips of water.

“That was some nightmare.  Would you care to talk about it?” the attendant asked.

“Not really, but it would probably be for the best to do so.  But first of all, what is your name?”

“Valera Proscinti,” she replied.

“Well Miss Proscinti, I am Ezekiel Wagner and I am trying to escape the demons and transgressions of my past.  That dream was the whole of my demons and the hounds of Hell catching up with me.

“I was a highly decorated captain during the Great War.  At the last battle, nearly all of our fleet was destroyed by the Imperial Separatists.  The vast majority of my crew also died.  The whole war weighs heavy on my conscience, but the deaths at the last battle weigh the heaviest,” Ezekiel paused to take a sip of water as the attendant sat wondering what atrocities could trouble a person as deeply as they seemed to afflict Ezekiel Wagner.  Ezekiel remained silent.