As I continue to walk this path of dealing with my insomnia head on like never before, this desire to live and breathe without regret grows deeper and deeper within me. When this health crisis has subsided, and I do believe it will, I so want to look back on it all without an ounce of regret or self-loathing. I want my story with insomnia to be one that brings me and others some sort of hope.

I was thinking the other day about suffering, about the pains in each of our lives and how so often we view them as detracting us from the progressive plot-line of our lives. I know I’ve viewed my own struggle with insomnia as a detour from the narrative of success that I trace in my own life. Things like getting a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, winning skateboard competitions, being in a band, graduating from college. All these milestones are easy to place in my life story. They make my life seem exciting, and most of all, they portray me as someone with talent, someone who’s never struggled to accomplish one’s dreams.

But a consistent, miserable, deeply personal struggle with sleep is so hard for me to accept and reconcile with the rest of my story because of how uninspiring it often seems to me. It’s one of those topics that make party conversations fall kind of flat. Do you ever feel that way about yourself? Like you’re a natural conversation ender, for lack of a better term? I feel like people just often feel bad for me, and that’s actually really hard for me to deal with.

But, whether I want it to or not, my insomnia is largely what makes me who I am. Naturally, every aspect of our lives is the fabric of our very being.

I find myself dwelling on things like how I can’t pursue my dream of being a long distance runner, or how I can’t play live shows anymore, or how I presently can’t keep a normal job. But, the other day I drew this straight line of dots on my hand and as I sat there looking at it I was struck with this thought that maybe a better way to think of our lives is as a continuous trajectory towards self-awareness and inner peace. That seems to be a much more sustainable metanarrative, as opposed to viewing one’s life as a means of accumulating worldly success. (This reflection doesn’t end with a cute little Bible verse, so you can ease up.)

Don’t get me wrong, I think we should still make goals for ourselves like publishing a book, running that 5k, or landing a cool job, because doing those things can make us better people. My point is that no matter what happens to us, our stories get to include all of it, suffering and all, and we have the gift of making the most of whatever comes our way even if that is chronic insomnia, or the death of a loved one, or a battle with a disease, or spiritual doubt. Our pain isn’t a deviation from our lives; it is our lives.

These days I’ve been attempting to pull my hardship back into the center of my story, not in an effort to dwell on negative energy, but to acknowledge that my life isn’t on hold now because I am suffering. Of course, this is hard to do considering the circumstances. I wake up with a level of fatigue that prohibits me from driving anymore. I don’t get to see my friends and I feel very alienated as a result. I have to cancel lunch dates with my grandparents, my cognitive faculties of memory, problem solving, and decision making seem to be depleting the longer my chronic insomnia persists, and my depression comes in large, sometimes unexpected and unfathomable, waves.

But I remind myself that every day is another opportunity to respond to my pain with increasing love for myself. Sometimes I literally have to tell myself, “None of this is your fault.” I tell myself to relax. I get the opportunity to make something of my pain. And I’m finding that my biggest joy through all of this is the process of learning how to love myself more and more. This chronic insomnia is providing me every opportunity to care for my self in ways I have neglected all my life.

I’m sure you’ve heard before that our experiences with hardship can make us stronger. It’s become somewhat of a cliché, but I suppose there’s a bit of truth to that sentiment. Our suffering can ultimately bring us together if we adopt the spirit of transparency and extend empathy towards one another. They can even begin to heal our deepest wounds that would have been otherwise untouchable without our painful experiences. So I ask myself, “What can I do to care for myself today?” “Is there a way I can begin to allow my pain to heal me?” And who knows, perhaps meditating on those questions can help you as well.


Memory & Place

I woke up with a cold this morning, which was too bad, but I ended up embracing it because it meant I could have a sick day and sick days can be fun if you let them. My dog was sick today too—some stomach thing—so I got to lay pathetically next to her in solidarity. I think she liked that.

I did a number of little things today, but nothing that significant to write about. Though I will tell you something that I thought, which is that I miss living in the city. I found that living there can make the mundane tasks of every day life seem less pointless. I could water my plants and look out the window at a city also in the midst of the mundane. And “going out” was as easy as stepping out my front door. When you’re in the city it doesn’t feel like you have to leave to find the world because you’re already in it.

Here in Tacoma I live in a neighborhood about fifteen minutes from downtown, which is far enough from the city to feel alone. It’s not my parents’ fault. It’s a really nice home and a pleasant neighborhood. We’re on top of a series of hills tucked away from the elementary and middle school, the golf course, the corner store and the old Blockbuster that’s parking lot is now a place where kids skate and smoke weed.

I have no friends here, although I used to. He used to live across the street in that mansion. I always felt a little less cool than him mainly because of their house and how young and trendy his parents were. We’d call each other on our home phones and hang out usually at his house, for obvious reasons. We’d skateboard on our quarter pipe that our dads built together.

I had another friend the next street over. I’d walk to the street, then I’d crawl through the brush to top of the hill that marked the end of his backyard. I’d slide down and make my way to his back door and I’d knock and wait. Most days he’d answer and we’d watch scary movies and skate in the street. If we were lucky we’d convince his mom to drive us to a skatepark and we’d just skate for hours.

I miss all of that. That’s when living here made the most sense. That’s kind of when my life made the most sense. It wasn’t so complicated. Now it’s all about finding some job that’ll give you enough money to do the mundane, and there’s no guarantee that you’ll enjoy your work. Now without a job, I spend lots of time watching nothing in particular from my window feeling nostalgic and remembering all of those things. Nowadays this street is pretty deserted during the day, but maybe it’s always been like that. I think most of them go to work around 6 in the morning. Sometimes I’m finally falling asleep when they pull out of their driveways.

I don’t know what I’m doing. I really don’t. I’m twenty three. I don’t have a job. I’m living with my parents. I’m in this stagnant pool of young adulthood and it’s like I’m just learning to swim all over again. All I want to do is have fun with my friends, but I don’t have friends here anymore and the friends I do have are busy living their lives that look nothing like mine. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so alone in my entire life. It’s partly this amazing privilege to be living here with a mom and dad who are willing to put me up until I figure out my next steps, but it’s also this incredibly lonely experience.

Before dinner tonight I took a walk back to my middle school. The school is a ghost town at night. The detritus of Halloween night litter some corners of the school property and remind me why it’s a holiday that I mainly avoid aside from rarely getting invited any where. I started tracing the perimeter of my school counter clockwise. I looked into the gym. The lights were on and I could see it was remodeled now. But I could still make out the area that me and my first girlfriend sat during PE. I thought back to that one day after band class when her friend dumped me because she was probably too afraid to tell me herself. It’s funny how it felt nothing at all like being dumped the next time in college.

I went around and found the stairs and walked up to where the library is located. I peered in the windows of the dimly lit library. Everything looked nicer now. I wondered to myself why my schools always get better looking once I leave. This looked like a library I could have spent hours in, but back then it wasn’t anything to retreat to. I walked down to the basketball court that I mainly avoided because of the assholes who felt the need to pick on me during lunch and in between classes. I didn’t stay there long. These weren’t memories to dwell on. So finally I went around to the entrance of the school and found the curb I would sit on to eat my lunch alone. I just stood there for awhile taking it all in. It was dark now.

I remembered how alone and unlikeable I felt as a seventh and eighth grader. I remembered all the friends I lost. I remembered the time I came home from my first school dance in tears. I can usually find it somewhere within me to see the humor in the past, but as I was standing there in the deserted school yard I never once felt like laughing at these old memories. The pain was still too real. It’s manifested itself in different ways over the years. I’ve felt alone all my life. But I also remembered how so much changed for the better once I moved on to high school. I made friends. I got a better haircut. A couple of girls liked me. I got asked to my second school dance with one of the popular girls and I actually had a good time. In high school I finally felt like I was worth something again. Then I thought about where I was now, in my twenties and once again lost and confused and lonely, and I knew in my heart that this too would pass; that I would move on from the ambiguous space of feeling too old to skateboard all day and too young to give my time to some boring and meaningless day job. This too would turn into something beautiful and unexpected just as everything else has. The secret was to just keep walking, to keep taking chances, and to never stop learning from all the past has to teach me.


It’s a dark and dreary day here in Tacoma, Washington and I’m so in love with it. The rain drops are heavy and musical. Everything green is greener. Everything toxic is vanished. I welcome the rain any day it decides to take over this industrial city. I realize some people get really sad when it rains, but for some reason I feel more like myself. I think a part of it is that I struggle on a daily basis with low self-esteem and especially when I’m outside the house and around other people. I do believe a lot of it is merely imaginary, but I often feel like the whole world is staring at me and that this world is better looking and closer to perfect than I’ll ever be. Of course this is false because I really do believe that each one of us is beautiful in our own way. But when it rains and people retreat inside I suddenly don’t feel so vulnerable and alone anymore. In fact, I start to feel a bit invisible and it’s profoundly liberating.

Sometimes I’ll crack the window by my desk and play my guitar to the sound of the rainfall. I’ve written lots of music on rainy days just like this. Other times I will unearth my journal and write about my life and everything I’ve been thinking and feeling. Writing is very cathartic for me—almost as good as talking to a counselor who is paid to listen to me and provide insightful advice. And although this is a rarity, every now and again I’ll go out in the rain and have what some might call a mystical experience.

On rainy days there have been occasions where I’ve felt keenly connected to a higher being who is the embodiment of love and accepts me just the way I am. And trust me, I hear the skeptic saying that it’s just a naturally induced neurological state from being outside and having a sense of natural grandeur. And maybe it is, but maybe it isn’t, and after all, does it really matter? In that moment I understand grace as a life I’ve been given without any conscious effort on my part—an opportunity to the make the most of what I’ve been freely given. Christians would call this an encounter with Jesus the Christ. Muslims would treasure this precious experience with what they identify as Muhammad. Buddhists might relish in their enlightenment and their momentary freedom from human suffering. The Agnostic might shake her head at the sky in awe and wonder and ask, “Who are you?” while the Atheist might treasure the same moment as if it were her last.

Sometimes I think I use the word God too much. To me it’s a verb. It’s a knowing intelligence, which is moving through the universe in a certain pattern. We can see this pattern in Buddhism with the four noble truths. The first noble truth is impermanence, the second is suffering, the third is non-attachment, and the fourth is the eight-fold path of right relationship. The pattern is that the truth isn’t just in the words; it’s coming out of this one seed that’s moving everywhere that we call God. Joseph Campbell said, “God is a metaphor for a mystery that absolutely transcends all human categories of thought, even the categories of being and non-being.”

I suppose what I experience during these mystical experiences is a oneness with all life, and every time I talk with someone and connect with his or her heart (often while talking to homeless people), and every time I experience true joy or suffering of my own I hear an echo of those mystical experiences that tie everything real and transcendent back into an experience of God. See I learn about who I am, who we are, and who God is when I encounter love. To me, myth is the ultimate truth. If there is one spirit of the universe, then there’s just one story although its got a couple hundred billion scripts. I love the diversity, but they’re all telling the same story. It’s one consciousness (our consciousness) expressing itself over and over and over again.

So I don’t know how or if God truly interacts with the universe, and I can’t prove to anyone that God interacts with me, but I can say that believing that God does these things changes me on a daily basis. It makes me a better person. Christianity gets off track when it loses the tradition of the here and now. And that was its glory. It did not appeal to history. Yes, I believe Jesus was born, died, and rose from the dead, but unless you can experience that same vitality and that same nobility of life here and now, that’s just a story to you. So what if this Jesus stuff turns out to be false in the end? It made my life better in the present and it was my way of making sense of this life just as much as it is an Agnostic’s, or a Buddhist’s, or a Muslim’s way of making sense of their existence by claiming their own beliefs about the divine. There is something in us that knows that this is true that requires no litmus test; something we innately understand about myth, about story.

What my faith does cause is the desire to help people find God for themselves. But it does nothing to make me want to change people’s mind, to convince them that everything I believe is right because I don’t believe I know everything. Believing in God makes me want to quiet down enough to hear other people’s stories and to learn from them, to make space for more possibilities of God, to provide the space for people to question God on their own, to make their own mistakes, to have fun and to even forget about the questions all together because in the end did we even realize that is was raining?


6:12am 10/18/15

I started blogging in early high school mainly because I loved to write, and I especially loved it when others read it because it gave me a sense of connectedness between my innermost feelings and those around me. It was a very real form of catharsis for me. I would talk about faith related topics that interested my young mind like Heaven and salvation and occasionally school and loneliness. A year or so went by and my inspiration to write these blog posts shifted to a coping mechanism for my chronic insomnia that I suddenly developed. Seven years later, and after taking a hiatus from blogging to protect my privacy as I looked for jobs, I’m back again with that same intention—to cope with my insomnia because it’s really all I have left.

Now that I’m 23, my insomnia comes and goes without any noticeable pattern and when it happens it’s real bad, like tonight. I wonder if I’ll sleep at all or if I’ll just stop my alarm a few seconds before it’s set to sound and get up out of bed. It’s a terrifying thought because not only will I be missing a whole night’s rest, I’ll be missing the rest of the day because of how physically, mentally, and spiritually fatigued I will be. And there’s really no way of controlling any of that. Well, if anything, I’ve learned to teach myself to hope at least a little tiny bit on those days through praying or crying or taking a walk or simply telling myself, “Today you’re going to hope in the midst of your anguish because that’s the person you’re choosing to be.”

I wish there was something I could do to make this all stop. About an hour ago I took a warm shower with the three candles I light in the bathroom and as I was soaking in the dim light I decided to talk to God, which I really haven’t done for almost a year now for reasons I can get into later and this is what I said, “God, I’ve given up on asking for your help because you never do on these nights, but I want you to know that I’m so fucking tired of this, and I’m so utterly hopeless that all I can do is just keep asking you for help. I have to believe that you’re the kind of God that can handle that sort of thing. I have to believe that cursing at you and laying all my lament on your table can be held by you. I really do hope you hear me and you just miraculously put me to sleep tonight, but at the same time I have serious ethical issues with a God who sometimes intervenes when we ask for it.”

I thought, “Well, that didn’t help,” as my prayer in the sleepless shower turned to yet another theological debate within my own mind. But if God was really as powerful and loving and all-knowing as I’d heard Jesus describe, then I thought that prayer was just as good as any.


Here Again

It’s 2:13am Friday morning and I’m having insomnia. I don’t suffer from insomnia like I did in high school. I sleep more nights than I don’t now, but every once in a while a little change in my daily routine throws me off and that little bit of anxiety is enough to keep me up for hours. In the morning I have a doctor’s appointment and then a full day planned of recording and farewell gatherings to send me off to California. I guess it’s all a bit stressful for an unhealthy introvert.

I’m far from having the health and fitness levels that I really do hope to achieve one day. I’ve decided that the only way to respond to the injustice of my years of insomnia and all the shit that it’s put me through is to start doing everything in my power to get healthy and strong until I no longer experience nights like these, until insomnia is just a memory that I can say I’ve overcome. I want to be alive again, full of energy, and full of self-confidence. But, the reality is that I’m still far from it and it still hurts.

My depression has been deep within me and stirring great waves of fear and doubt. There are days when I feel like a stranger even to myself. I’ve never known depression like this before. You become afraid of other people, afraid of their opinions of you, afraid of seeing things in them that you long for. And of course you’re so sad it actually does begin to hurt. But ironically, I sense that this is a time for new beginnings, and I’m choosing to respond to that premonition with open arms.

I leave in a week for Davis. The truth is that I’m terrified. My body is not ready. I won’t sleep and I’ll be tired and lonely and doubtful that moving for an internship was the right decision. And I will surely continue to suffer with the health issues that I’ve been struggling with this summer, but I do believe that it will soon pass and I will be a better person on the other side.

I’m packing some art supplies to make sure that I have a healthy avenue to channel my feelings. A few canvases, some pens and markers, my guitars, my new journal, and some recording equipment will travel with me along with my bike, which is also an art supply, I suppose. I really want to live simply. I want to have a room with empty walls, so that I will be forced to make my own art. I predict that it will be very therapeutic for me, especially when times are hard, to frame finished products and hang them around me. Kind of symbolic of the work in progress that I am.

– NK


Baccalaureate Homily

At SPU there’s a baccalaureate service the night before commencement for all the graduating seniors and their friends and family.  Along with a very intentional liturgy of songs, scripture readings, and prayer that’s constructed months in advance, it’s tradition for the Baccalaureate Committee to select two graduating seniors to give reflections on their college experience and relate it to the theme of the service.  The theme of this year’s service was ‘renewal’ and I was deeply honored to be chosen as one of the student reflection speakers.  What follows is the transcript of my speech.  Mind you, I had to speak in front of about 1500 people!  A major milestone in my life. 


Seattle Pacific University Baccalaureate Homily

June 13, 2014

Nolan Kurtz

Well hello.  My name’s Nolan Kurtz.  For the last four years I’ve been studying Christian theology here at SPU and I’m finally done!  I chose to major in Christian theology after being pre-med for one whole day.  Theology is one of those fields of study that makes your friends and family and probably your dentist ask you why in the world you picked theology instead of science or business.  For our purposes tonight I’m not going to directly answer that question, but I am going to give a brief reflection of my time here at Seattle Pacific and how I feel God has shaped me through it all.

I don’t know about all of you, but looking back I’d say SPU has caused me to confront a great deal of my weaknesses and insecurities, and that’s something I’m truly thankful for.

I remember coming to SPU and wanting nothing more than to make friends.  In high school and middle school I didn’t find many lasting friendships and really longed for Christian friends. Freshman year here, I found just that and it was wonderful.  The only downside is that I was having DTR’s all the time. You know how it is. Or maybe you don’t, and you’re one of the lucky ones.

Then sophomore year I joined group staff as the drummer.  group is the Wednesday night worship service that meets in Upper Gwinn.  I was the shy guy behind the drums that had dreadlocks covering his face.  I was so afraid to be in front of other people.  I remember getting so nervous to even read a small Bible passage in front of the congregation.  I was even the last one to share my life story on staff because I was so afraid to share my story with other people.  But that community was such a blessing for me because it forced me outside of my comfort zone and something profound starting happening to me that year.  I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was beginning to enter into a new phase of my faith.  I began to question my own theology and Christian faith a lot, which is ironically what motivated me to apply for the coordinator position on group staff the following year.

Junior year I became the group coordinator, and that experience has formed my character perhaps more than anything else in my entire life thus far.  That year was tough.  Maybe you can identify a year of college that was harder than the rest.  For me, junior year was definitely the hardest. If you know me personally, then you know that chronic insomnia is a big part of my story. Junior year my insomnia crept back into my life and I struggled off and on with really severe fatigue,  which caused doubts in my faith, and deep depression.  I lived in the tension of being this ministry leader and often feeling bereft of hope.  I was unsure of how I could lead this staff of twelve people and lead worship each week if I had all of these questions of faith and pain and depression that I was going through.  Bob Zurinsky, the group advisor, told me something I will never forget.  He explained simply that being a ministry leader doesn’t mean having it all together.  Life is a journey.  Your entire life will be a journey.  And the important thing is to be true to yourself and seek God in the midst of it all.

Being Christian doesn’t mean we have all the answers, and I thank SPU for teaching me that.  This insight empowered me to be group coordinator a second year as a senior, and I’m so thankful I did that. My faith has grown tremendously and I don’t define myself so much by my fears anymore.

So often the faith response is that we know why everything happens, even why very bad things happen to good people.  But being Christian forces us to be honest with the uncertainty of things.  We can’t prove that the Christian story is the right version of the story of the world and we shouldn’t try to.  In fact, one of the greatest lessons I’ve learned through my time here at SPU is that, as Christians, we actually embrace the struggles and the ambiguities of life because we are grounded not by knowing the truth about everything, but by our hope that God is in the process of renewing us and will one day establish the kingdom of God on earth.

No matter where life ends up taking you once you leave here, no matter what job you end up taking or what state you end up living in, your vocation in the world will always be the same.  Your role is to live into that kingdom of restoration and redemption and complete love here and now as best as you can as if your destiny is already your present reality. And that’s who we are as the church, as the People of God. We are a people living for the redemption of our world and we believe in our reconciliation with one another with all of our hearts.

It’s my prayer that as we graduate from this institution we go out into the world as both a people honestly aware of the brokenness of our world, the injustices and sin all around us, and also as a people secured in the hope of God’s victory over it all.  Are we prepared to give our hope to the world, even though the world may often give us reason to feel hopeless?

Thank you.


Same-Sex Marriage and Scripture’s Radically Inclusive Ethic

We live in a time where same-sex marriage is a heavily debated moral issue in the Church.  As Christians and as human beings in general, we all come to this issue with a deep set of presuppositions and convictions that cause us to lean one way or the other on the issue.  Sadly, this has caused a great deal of separation and division amongst the Church, which was never God’s intention.  I speak from experience, knowing a handful of same-sex couples that have been excluded from their church’s worshipping community.  This has always seemed problematic to me, seeing as we serve a God who is never pushing people away from salvation, but gathering people in as a manifestation of God’s promised future—something we call New Creation.  As believers, we can’t be oblivious to the fact that we have pushed homosexuals away from the community of God.  This comes from a deep-seated belief that homo-sex and same-sex marriage are inherently sinful.  These are realities that must be addressed theologically, in light of our scripture, since we can never know for sure what God thinks about an issue like same-sex marriage until the eschatological end where God reveals all as the narrator of our entire existence.  Of course, we should not be so excessively protestant that we attend only to Scripture for answers in regards to moral issues like same-sex marriage. However, it is important to know what Scripture has to say about moral issues such as this because this is our unifying text that we wrestle with as the global Church.

Let’s begin by making it very clear that the issue here isn’t over homosexuality.  That is a biological characteristic of someone, not a psychological error.  It is simply incorrect to say that homosexual individuals are confused, or to assume that they must have been sexually abused or parented poorly.  By asserting any of these things, we are removing ourselves from the conversation by our mere ignorance.  But, perhaps most important of all is that even if we ultimately decide that homosexuality is naturally sinful, meaning not part of God’s will, and that same-sex marriage should be illegal for this reason and otherwise, our end goal should be to love homosexuals as God’s beloved creation, not hate them.  But, just as we don’t say that someone’s very nature of being heterosexual is a sin, so we don’t claim that someone’s homosexual orientation is inherently sinful.

The presumption throughout Scripture is that God has a preferential option for heterosexual relationships, but at the core God values a certain aspect of relationship.  God urges against the disruption and damage of loyalty between people in relationship with one another.  The sexes involved in the relationship aren’t the issue; the values that are upheld in that relationship are what God is concerned with.  (Acts 4:32-5:11)  In Acts, the Holy Spirit breaks down previous barriers.  (Acts 10:14-15)  Peter says, “Lord, I’m kosher!  I’ve done the right thing!”  But the Spirit speaks to him and assures him that it’s okay to eat meat.  This was crazy because Jews were supposed to be Kosher.  It’s how they displayed their commitment to the Christian faith.  Then Peter began to speak: “I now realize how true it is that God does not show favoritism but accepts those from every nation who fear him and do what is right” (Acts 10:34-35).  The Holy Spirit proclaims that nobody is born apart from God.  Nothing is impure.  What matters in a person is his or her faith and commitment to God.  There is no mention of the sort of sexuality that one must have.

Keeping with this unifying aspect of the Spirit as seen in Acts, Paul’s letter to Philemon emphasizes a similarly radical ethic that seeks to unite Christians regardless of their previous or present place in society.  Paul urges Philemon to accept Onesimus, his former slave, as a fellow brother in Christ.  This is synonymous with Paul’s vision for the church as a “koinonia of believers” (v. 6), which entails a partnership and unity amongst all believers.  Those who were once “far off” from the salvific qualities of God have now been reconciled and brought near through Christ into one household (Eph. 2:11-13).

What would Paul have thought about same-sex marriage?  We know that Paul is concerned with the qualities of the relationships within the Church.  His letter to the Ephesians emphasizes a social ethic and insists on the solidarity of the Church body being formed into the image of God.  (Eph. 4:1-6; 4:17-32; 5:1-5)  Essentially, he believes in reconciled relationships.  This has echoes of the Holy Spirit’s inclusive work in Acts 10 where it is revealed to Peter that God desires to save all people, and in fact nobody is apart from God.  Paul is in the process of continuing the Spirit’s work of breaking down barriers within the community of believers.  In his mind, the People of God are believers in the Lord Jesus Christ who lead holy lives.  It doesn’t matter what one’s ethnicity is, or where someone resides in the class structure of society, or what one’s sexual identity is.  What matters is one’s full commitment to God in all circumstances.

It remains true to Paul’s ethics not to condemn one’s sexual orientation.  Just like heterosexuality, homosexuality needs to be rightly ordered in order to abide by the holy values that God desires in relationships.  Sin does not reside in orientation, or even in the marriage per se, but in whether one’s life is rightly ordered.  They must think about other people in a way that reflects God’s grace, and mercy, and compassion.  All throughout Ephesians it’s evident that Paul has a deep conviction that one of the most important effects of Jesus’ dying and rising is a new humanity, a new sociology, where people that were once outsiders are now part of the community of God.  We are therefore called to reconcile relationships with one another and be an inclusive sort of people.  (Eph. 4:29-32)  A good marriage in God’s eyes upholds these values.  It brings together people that are dedicated to living out this way of life as a testament to the reality that God’s New Creation is starting now as a byproduct of God’s grace.

Jesus testifies to this in Matthew, and since Jesus Christ is God made flesh in the world, we need to pay most careful attention to his words.  We see that Jesus is clearly interested in the inward nature of people.  (Matt. 6:6)  The fact is that no single person has control over his or her sexuality, and so we should not be telling homosexuals to change the way they feel on a biological level.  This has caused so much pain for homosexuals.  I’ve heard firsthand accounts of this from close friends of mine that have been formed by churches for so long as people that regard the very nature of who they are as inherently sinful.  That’s quite an injustice.  We need to get far away from this idea that someone’s biology, the very thing that cannot be changed about a person, is what God wills us to change.  What we need to do is directly address the moral issue of same-sex marriage because, again, the issue isn’t homosexuality; the issue is the way in which gay people live, and the same is true for heterosexuals.

The qualities of a holy relationship, of a holy marriage, are the heart of the issue.  The beatitudes teach us how we are to be inwardly thinking about other people, and we can use this information to extract what constitutes a holy covenant relationship between two people.  Now we will take a look at Jesus’ moral vision for good relationships and holy thinking as made evident in this sermon, and begin to extract its relevancy for the issue of same-sex marriage.

Jesus quickly asserts his moral authority and gives a radical reinterpretation of the Ten Commandments of God given to Moses at Mt. Sinai.  Jesus makes it clear that he is interested in the inward nature of the people.  It is not just the act of following the Commandments that Jesus is concerned with.  In his mind, the very way in which people think about others is what God cares about.  For example, Jesus brings up the law that prohibits adultery and immediately says, “But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (Matt. 5:28).  Jesus is presenting a sexuality of the heart.  He is proclaiming modesty rather than lust.  Jesus teaches us that what’s at stake in our sexuality is the way we regard other people.  (Matt. 5:27-28)  In his mind, the sin is in objectifying other people as merely sexual objects, and disregarding their feelings, their experience, their own wants and desires, and God’s profound love and intent for them as humans put on this earth for a reason.

Jesus even partners adultery with marital divorce.  “But I tell you that anyone who divorces his wife, except for sexual immorality, causes her to become an adulteress, and anyone who marries the divorced woman commits adultery” (Matt. 5:32).  What’s so interesting is that Jesus isn’t looking at marriage as a social institution.  He is viewing marriage as a relationship, and as a certain kind of relationship with holy qualities.  The people involved in the marriage are to remain faithful to one another.  They are to enjoy sex with one another only.  This is key to Jesus’ moral vision for a marriage, and a same-sex marriage should naturally abide by the same holy values.

Following in light of Jesus’ values on holy relationships, we now focus our attention on James—a believer who comes after Jesus and a biblical text of profound moral density that can speak both to the issue of same-sex marriage and to the issue of excluding same-sex couples from the Church.  James is particularly passionate about holy speech—a sort of taming of the tongue in order to bring about redemptive relationships and communities.  One of the key issues that James speaks to is false worship.  He says, “With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings, who have been made in God’s likeness” (James 3:9).  The issue is that often there is no evidence that our worship transforms us into people that resemble the God we worship.  James is asking us, “Where is the evidence that our worship moves us from where we are into a world of complete restoration, grace, and love?”

To use the language of James, “speaking up” about same-sex marriage is problematic when it actually excludes same sex couples from the Church because doing that covertly trains the entire congregation to hate homosexuals in their hearts.  Nowhere does Scripture encourage us to hate anyone.  In fact, Scripture is a profoundly uncomfortable text because of its grand message to seek complete unity with other people in the world, even to the extent that we love our enemies.  (Matt. 5:43-44)  Like James says, “When we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we can turn the whole animal” (James 3:3).  If Scripture is about forming in us a holy conscience that is able to discern God’s will in any given situation, then the Church, as a liturgical institution that teaches Scripture as its main ethical resource, will be forming Christians that wholly believe that God doesn’t love homosexuals if it is choosing to exclude homosexuals from its community.  I have no reservations in saying that excluding same-sex couples from our Churches is a sin because it is doing absolutely nothing to seek the community of unity that God intends for us to live into as a microcosm of God’s kingdom.

The fact is that we don’t know what God’s will is for homosexuals; therefore we have no place in excluding them from the worshipping community of Jesus Christ.  James is communicating that too often we assume that we know what the will of God is for a moral issue, such as same-sex marriage, when the reality is that we’ll never know for sure, and thus we ought to focus primarily on how we love others in a way that harvests shalom even if they may be very different than us and believe very different things than us.

I find it fitting to end this biblical exploration into the moral issue of same-sex marriage with the ethics of Revelation—the final book of the Bible.  Like James (James 1:1-21), the Book of Revelation, written by an imprisoned believer named John, is written to Christians in trial and suffering for their faith.  There are lots of polarities in this book, lots of directly contrasting images—the self-indulgent city Babylon versus the pure city Zion; the Beasts who rule this world now versus the Lamb who will one day be crowned king (i.e. The faithful woman and her children versus the anti-God Dragon in Rev. 12 & 13).  What they do is force the readers to make a choice about which side they’ll take.  And it’s not merely a book with future implications, but one in which our very actions in the present are influenced by if we let them.  The overall message is that God will take all of the brokenness of our world and heal it, transforming and restoring our reality, as we know it now.  (Rev. 7:15-17; 8:15-17; 21:22-28; 22:1-5)  Therefore we are called to identify ourselves in that coming reality and live into that eschatological end as if our destiny is already our present condition.

It’s my contention that this speaks to how we are to treat homosexuals.  If we truly believe that God’s will and ultimate plan is to bring us all together and reconcile our relationships, then we cannot live any longer as a body of believers that pushes homosexuals away from God’s community.  Jesus’ description of the eschatological City of God (Rev. 22:7-16) is intentionally spoken with present tense.  We need to be the sort of people that recognize all people, regardless of their sexual orientation, as part of the family of God.

It’s probably obvious at this point that I have a deep conviction that regardless of whether we believe same-sex marriage is a sin or not, we should be welcoming same-sex couples into our Churches because, like James and the rest of Scripture teaches us, what’s really at stake in the Christian life is the qualities of our relationships and our inward thoughts towards other people, not our sexual orientations.  (James 3:13-17)  We can never say for sure how the Holy Spirit regards same-sex marriage or any other issue, for that matter.  But, how are we showing concern for the qualities of people’s relationships and are we being too quick to say, “You’re wrong and I know one hundred percent that God agrees with me, so I’m going to close the Church doors to you”?

The issue isn’t about the sexes involved in the marital relationship; the issues are the qualities of the relationship.  God’s will is that marital relationships are the basis for covenant-keeping—those in a martial relationship are to be obedient to the will of God.  They are to be the homogenous sort of people that pursue the kingdom of heaven (Matt 6:33).  They are to be truly repentant towards God’s ethics and kingdom (Matt. 6:19-21).  And like I said earlier, the presumption throughout Scripture is that God has a preferential option for heterosexual relationships, but at the core God values certain values of relationships.  God urges against the disruption and damage of loyalty between people in relationship with one another.  The sexes involved in the relationship aren’t the issue; the values that are upheld in that relationship are what God is concerned with. (Acts 4:32-5:11)

So, to close I will say that considering the array of scripture that I’ve focused on thus far, I believe that one’s sexuality ought to be consecrated through an exclusive, committed covenant, blessed by the Church because, from what we know from Scripture, this is what practicing resurrection, the complete unity of believers in the kingdom of God, looks like.  Deep down I am in support of same-sex marriage because I cannot fathom that God would create anything that is inherently sinful.  This would make absolutely no sense from what we know about the nature of God, even in the context of the first book of the Bible—Genesis and the story of creation.  God creates the world, animals, and humans and God proclaims it “very good” (Gen. 1:31).  God loves all creatures great and small, woman and man, homosexual and heterosexual.

Same-sex marriage is not an issue; the issue is whether or not people are living in a way that maintains their covenant with God as God’s servants to live out of the hope of God’s kingdom and to work for the holy ends of that reality.  And one of the most profound things that I’ve discovered from studying Scripture and listening to the stories of my gay friends is that the act of excluding anyone from one’s worshipping community profoundly contradicts the radically inclusive values of the Spirit evident throughout Scripture.  It seems clear to me that the theology of Jesus is to love the outsider.  In Jesus’ time these outsiders were the lepers, the blind, and the sick.  It was the Samaritan woman and the Canaanite woman.  It was every ignored and scorned outsider of society that Jesus welcomed into his community.

Our core belief as Christians is that God loves the whole world and that God desires to save the whole world from sin.  God isn’t the sort of god that drives people away from salvation.  These universalisms of our faith push us to include people in the community of God rather than drive them away.  But, whether you agree with me or not that same-sex marriage is holy, we both have the same mission as God’s people.  When we, as Christians, confront the reality that in our world there are homosexual people in love with one another, we must stand up and be the sort of people that embrace homosexuals as God’s beloved children, regardless of whether we believe same-sex marriage is a sin or not.  Who said the Church was ever supposed to be a community of clones that believe the exact same thing?  No, we are called to be the kind of community that wrestles with these issues as a community, placing the greatest emphasis on the qualities of our relationships, not the sexes involved.  And at the end of the day, may we worship under the same roof united in our hope that one day God will bring our differences to end and carry our similarities to life as equals in the kingdom of God.


Recovering the Liturgical Intentionality of the Church

In many aspects Christian worship has become something very different than what it was in the early Church. In ancient Israel, worship was a way of perceiving the world, not just a way to feel good on a rainy afternoon. It was not an escape from the world, but a way of imagining the world, giving the worshipers eyes to see. We see this in Chronicles with the careful attention to detail within the temple of the LORD. King David establishes a profound sense of holy space, holy time, and holy personnel that permeates the temple in such a way that causes the reader to take notice and ask, “What’s the importance of Christian liturgical practice?” Chronicles teaches us of the importance of Christian liturgical practice for forming habits, rhythms, and rituals for the worshipping community that develops a cultivated conscience and love of holiness within its individuals.

Religion and liturgy are deeply embedded in Scripture. In fact, they are so deeply rooted in the biblical text that Christians often glance over it. A closer look at a text like Chronicles shows that the goal and task of a Christian institution is formation rather than (in)formation. Towards the end of his life, king David tells his son Solomon how he would like the temple of the LORD to function as a liturgical institution. He insists on having committed people at work in the temple at all times. David has the Levites of at least thirty years old counted and then makes a detailed ordering of who will work in the temple saying, “Of these, twenty-four thousand are to be in charge of the work of the temple of the LORD and six thousand are to be officials and judges. Four thousand are to be gatekeepers and four thousand are to praise the LORD with the musical instruments I have provided for that purpose” (1 Ch. 23:4-5). In other words, there’s going to be constant work being done at the temple. Broadly speaking, this is often referred to as “perpetual liturgy.”

James KA Smith, a professor of philosophy at Calvin College and author of Desiring the Kingdom: Worship, Worldview, and Cultural Formation (Cultural Liturgies), picks up this fascinating idea from Augustine, which simply says that human beings are primarily affectional creatures, rather than intellectual beings. Simply said, “We are what we love.” This gets straight to the point of what the Chronicler is getting at with the attention to detail with regards to the temple of the LORD. David finds much importance in developing a holy institution that is dedicated to the formation of disciples who think critically and carefully about the world in which they participate in out of a cultivated love for God and God’s plan for the world.

In Chronicles, David’s emphasis for the temple is on the actual temple practices, which suggest a kind of liturgical habit, a liturgical lifestyle. He goes on to explain what sort of role the Levites, the musicians, the treasurers and other officials have in the temple. In this way, the Chronicler is portraying David’s desire to establish an ideal community that won’t make the mistakes of the past. This is the basis for the new community post-exile. And at the core, this community is one that takes liturgical practice seriously. Before he passes the task of building the temple over to his son Solomon, David says, “LORD, the God of our fathers Abraham, Isaac and Israel, keep these desires and thoughts in the hearts of your people forever, and keep their hearts loyal to you. And give my son Solomon the wholehearted devotion to keep your commands, statutes and decrees and do everything to build the palatial structure for which I have provided” (1 Ch. 29:18-19). David wants nothing more than his son to carry out his vision for the establishment of a temple that enacts the will of God in its worship and helps to re-narrate Israel’s identity as the People of God. And this re-narration is towards the overarching Christian story, tracing the universal trajectory of creation towards its complete eschatological restoration, and locating the mission of the Church directly in the middle of that story as the people who live in the hope and vocation of redemption here and now.

Following in his father’s footsteps, King Solomon, as depicted by the Chronicler, is one who takes the nature of the temple very seriously. He values the grandeur, splendor, and beauty of God so much that he insists on emphasizing that in the very architecture of the temple. “The temple I build must be large and magnificent” (2 Ch. 2:9). He urges us to see that church worship is not a time to disregard liturgical competency. We learn how to relate to the world on a subconscious level through the liturgy of our worship services. Our vision of “the good life,” our vision of the Kingdom of God that we are pressing toward, isn’t something we’re born with. It’s a horizon of our reality, a set of affections that is built in us over the course of our lives. How we present a holy space that directs our attention to the heavenly is very important and requires every aspect of our imagination and attention to detail.

Today, the Protestant Church is somewhat allergic to the idea of habit because of its fascination with spontaneous worship. But we have to get over our reservations for repetition. We think repetition – engaging in habitual practice – is bad in the Church, but as Chronicles teaches us, we are liturgical ritualistic creatures and our desires are built. A clear issue today is that the form of the North American Church is neutral and the content is central. Churches are centered around sermons that are often constructed around three points, which begin with “cute” and what follows is a worship service that is disjointed because the lyrics of the songs are communicating ideas that often contradict one another as well as the sermon and the overall structure of the service. The reality is that we are not merely brains on a stick! We are highly influenced by the form! We’re not pre-programmed to love a particular thing; we learn to love. And how we learn what to love doesn’t come primarily from textbooks and sermons, but from the mundane habitual practices of our lives.  I think if we know why we’re doing what we’re doing as Christians, as members of the church of Jesus Christ, then our habits can have global implications. We will have a particular story and message that we identify in, and one that we can articulate to other people not merely through forced evangelical words that teach us and the community that our particular Christian vocation is to “save” everyone around us, but through the very manner in which we live our lives as a testament to our hope that this world is not yet as it surely will be.


Who Reads Chronicles Anymore?

I’m currently taking a class on first and second Chronicles, which, if you’ve ever been so surprised to hear about in your church or whatever, are largely made up of genealogies.  However, I’m not that interested in dissecting the theological significance of the genealogies, like at all.  But, as we’ve been learning in class, interesting theological issues are actually being raised in Chronicles, and I want to write a little bit about it because, for one, it’s fascinating to me, especially being someone who hasn’t studied the Old Testament nearly as much as the New Testament, and secondly, it’s helping me formulate some ideas that I’ve already been thinking about lately regarding the discernment of God’s will.

We’ve been discovering how the characters in Chronicles are being portrayed as types, as typological individuals who are characteristic of certain kinds of people who act definitively in specific ways.  A prime example of this is the manner in which Saul is depicted as all bad, and David as all good.  We learned in class that in Samuel Saul cannot be reduced to a one-dimensional character, but in Chronicles he is.  Saul’s negative typological portrayal paves the way for David to be raised up as the righteous ruler in Chronicles.  There are a lot of theological implications for the way the Chronicler depicts the characters in Chronicles and how it broadens our understanding of the will of God when compared to other biblical texts.

Let’s compare the stories of Saul and David as depicted by the Chronicler and begin to extract its theological density.  At the end of chapter nine we get the genealogy of Saul, which ends up essentially being the only gratifying information we get about Saul.  Directly following his genealogy, the Chronicler tells the story of Saul taking his own life.  The Philistines were fighting against Israel, but their primary target at that time was Saul.  The fighting grew worse and at last the Philistines wounded Saul.  Terrified that he might die by the Philistines, the “uncircumcised fellows”, he urges his armor-bearer to kill him, but he’s too afraid to do so.  Saul then takes his own sword and kills himself.  The story concludes with verses thirteen and fourteen saying, “Saul died because he was unfaithful to the LORD: he did not keep the word of the LORD, and he even consulted a medium for guidance, and did not inquire of the LORD.  So the LORD put him to death and turned the kingdom over to David son of Jesse” (10:13-14).  It is clear in Chronicles that David was supposed to be king all along.  In class we learned that this isn’t the reality in Samuel.  However, the Chronicler claims that God killed Saul for the purpose of turning the kingdom over to David.  In chapter eleven, the Israelites affirm this.

In verse nine the Chronicler says, “And David became more and more powerful, because the LORD Almighty was with him” (11:9).  It’s clear that in Chronicles, David is raised up as the faithful ruler that God is blessing.  This is directly contrasted with Saul and his death because of his unfaithfulness to the LORD.  In chapter eleven, “all” language is the technical language that the Chronicler utilizes.  In the first verse the Chronicler says, “All Israel came together to David at Hebron and said, ‘We are your own flesh and blood’” (11:1).  This is also covenant language.  The way the people of Israel calls themselves David’s flesh and blood is their way of making a covenant with David.  The people of Israel firmly believe that David is the king that will rule over them as God desires.

What’s so interesting is the way in which the Chronicler depicts David as the just ruler that God destined as Israel’s king because this just isn’t the case in Samuel.  Even in chapter six we see the Chronicler favoring David.  “These are the men David put in charge of the music in the house of the LORD after the ark came to rest there.  They ministered with music before the tabernacle, the tent of meeting, until Solomon built the temple of the LORD in Jerusalem” (6:31-32).  David is liturgically correct and the Chronicler values David for this reason.  It’s my contention that the Chronicler’s unique way of depicting Saul and David as typological characters is actually very enlightening for the way the Church ought to discern the will of God.

We don’t get much insight into the minds of the characters in Chronicles.  This is fairly common in all of scripture.  As the Chronicler is narrating characters like Saul and David, the Chronicler is portraying them so typologically that they’re almost caricatures.  So what we end up with in Chronicles is a story of God’s elect people that removes all puzzlement and ambiguity that is found in Samuel.  The Chronicler is saying that among God’s People Israel there is fixity, order, and lack of ambiguity.  It’s curious because in the Church we don’t like suspense, intrigue, and drama like books like Samuel present to us, but the Church as a whole reads Samuel and Kings much more than Chronicles.  The contradicting reality is that the Church acts much more like the world of Chronicles.  The way we view things in the Church largely reflects the Chronicles worldview in that our opinions on moral issues, such as same-sex marriage, climate change, and immigration are fixed and often times one-sided as if we know for sure what God’s will is.  Or certain churches are absolutely sure that God has appointed individuals for their specific ministries.  The Church as a whole is sure of many things.

In class we’ve been learning how Samuel is much more nuanced and textured, and in this way it’s more realistic than Chronicles.  Maybe what we need as the Church is to live between Chronicles and Samuel, to live in the nuance and the ambiguity, because if we don’t embrace the ambiguities of our lives and of the will of God as we know it now, then we are living in a dreamland.  When we talk about God’s will for us personally, ecclesially, or cosmologically, in light of the total biblical narrative, we face much more ambiguity than we’d like.  If we look at all of the biblical material, or even just Chronicles and Samuel, we face a lot of loose ends that are often uncomfortable for us.  This is why so many kids at my school often have crises of faith.  I know I did. The reality is we can’t be sure what God’s will is for us.

I recently got accepted as a worship intern at University Covenant Church in Davis, CA, which is super exciting for me.  This is a great example of how I’ve been making decisions lately.  Choosing to apply as a worship intern for this church in California, and secondly, accepting the position, weren’t decisions I made based on some mystical sense that God had appointed me for UCC or Davis, CA.  The reality is that I weighed the pros and cons, and made the decision to go for it because it felt like a good thing to do.  And I pray that God positively uses this experience to further form me as someone who loves myself, other people, and God more fully.  Simple as that.  I think one of the only things we do know about God’s will is that we love the LORD our God with all our heart, soul, and mind and our neighbor as ourselves.  The rest is largely up for grabs, so to speak.  But we don’t like the “up for grabs” part of our faith.  Reading Chronicles has urged me to weigh the options of the decisions that I face in life for the end of making a decision.  Whatever I choose to do or wherever I choose to go is not necessarily the point; it’s that wherever I end up going I must strive to love God and love other people with all my might.  Then I will see how God uses me in that place.


Sleepless 4/16/14

Well, I’m randomly having insomnia on this quiet night. I will briefly write.

I’ve begun the last quarter of my senior year here at SPU. It’s bittersweet, to be honest. I often think back to the person I was when I first walked on to campus, through Tiffany Loop, and up and around Ashton Hall. I was hardly the same person as I am now. I was afraid of so many things, and although, ironically, this is still the same, it’s seems like the primary characteristic of mine that’s been flipped on its head.

I don’t define myself so much by my fear anymore and for that I am forever grateful. Class presentations, raising my hand in class once a year, making announcements on Wednesday nights to open the group worship services, going on long walks with women that hate me for leading them on, getting up in front of people and singing my own songs, dancing at local shows with strangers (I am also a stranger to myself in these moments), leading a team of ministry leaders, and countless other experiences have brought me to a place in my life where I’ve begun to name myself as just another human being trying to figure life out—no greater or less than anybody else in that respect.

There’s something quite freeing in identifying myself with other people. I do not subscribe to a sort of Christian theology that tells me exactly what to think and how to live. What I have is a little speck of knowledge of a story that is all-encompassing, all-reconciling, and all-powerful—enough to breathe life into dead places. I deeply believe that God created this universe and intended for all of creation to live in glory. I don’t know exactly what the afterlife will look like, but I believe that this will be a reality where all of our pain and suffering will be no more. Noticing other people and seeing myself in them helps connect me to the Christian story and the Christian hope that’s both eschatological and in the here and now.

I write this to remind myself what it is that I believe in because I have been struggling so much these days to hold on to hope. These are the nights where all the thoughts of my brain take a vacation and suddenly all I know is my own insignificance in spite of everything I’ve come to know about God. I continue to be my worst enemy. The real truth is that my own thoughts about myself tear me down inside, and sometimes I can sense myself falling away from the person God has created me to be.

But, interestingly enough, the Church is currently in the middle of celebrating Passover. It’s a Jewish holiday, which celebrates when God delivered the people of Israel out of Egypt from nearly 3,000 years of slavery. Thankfully, God has never stopped setting his people free. I hear about it all the time and I believe I’ve experienced it. But, I would be lying to you if I said, “Today I feel free,” because the reality is that I feel enslaved. I’m taking 19 credits worth of classes this quarter, struggling to stay afloat, trying so hard not to become jaded by all of these rigorous theology classes, and attempting to keep my health in check and my loneliness contained.

And still, at the center of my desire, in the pit of my stomach, at every turn in my walk, and every room I enter, I’m hoping that I meet someone who changes my life completely and listens to my thoughts, and cries with me when I hurt, and laughs with me about the little things, and dances with me in the kitchen, and comes over even when there’s nothing but silence and a room for remembering our minuscule attempts to be more like Jesus that day.

You are everything to me and that’s probably unhealthy, but the reality is that you are my hope. You are my courage and my ability to wake up after nights like these. You are my reflection that looks back on me and reminds me of what I’m defined by. You are not my bones. You are not my imperfections. You are everything that I am not, everything that I’m quite possibly not ready for, but I already feel in love with you. I’ve exhausted my ontological language for the existential experience of missing someone I’ve never met. But if there is one thing I am certain of, it’s this: You are already here and maybe you are God.