What Does it Mean to Be a Christian Writer?

This question was posed to me during my current writing class. This is my response, posted as requested...

I can’t say I have come to an ultimate conclusion on this question. I can see arguments from many angles that make sense. Perhaps I am seeing these different parts individually and have yet to put them together to see the object they are all a part of.

My first thought is of the parable of the talents. The master leaves talents with his servants to manage while he is gone. Two of the servants invest their talents and end up with double what they were given. The third buries his talent for safe keeping. When the master returns, he scorns the servant who played it safe and gives his talent to one of the others.

It is curious to me that the master does not give the servants instructions concerning the talents. He didn’t say, “Buy up on Microsoft stock,” or “Start this business for me.” Instead, it appears that he leaves investing the talents to the servants. From this story, I believe that God wants me to look for ways to invest the talents He has left me.

When the master returns, I imagine he is curious as to how his servants have invested his talents and what kind of returns have come from these investments. I see pride emanating from his face, listening to his servants recounting their reasoning behind their investments and sharing their success.

Now there is one servant the master is not pleased with. In the story, this servant was afraid of the master. This servant was afraid of what would happen if he failed. So afraid of failing that he chooses to play it safe and not risk it. In the end, he became exactly what he feared. A failure. Achieving nothing.

I believe God has called us to use our talents for building His kingdom. Whenever we step out and take a risk in investing these talents for the building of His kingdom, God is pleased. I do not believe we are without guidance in our investments. I believe there are times God desires us to invest in a certain way at a certain time a certain talent. However, I also believe God is pleased when we are creative and look for ways to invest the talents He has given us.

Is a Christian writer called? Yes. Some specifically, some as one of the options God has given for an investment. Am I personally called to be a writer? Because I see a return on the investment I have risked, I believe I have been.

The Question

"If you could do anything in the name of Christ and know that it would succeed and not fail, what would you do?"

Just the thought of such power puts a smile on my face. Obviously with that kind of power, I don't want to waste it on something small. It has to be something big, something great. Sorting through an onslaught of ideas fear begins to grow.

Fear? If I can't fail, why am I afraid?

I am afraid because the reality of my responsibility is starting to take hold. I would succeed and not fail. But at what cost? You have to understand, I have enough on my plate already. I work 40 hours every week. Sometimes more. I go to church twice a week. I play basketball one night a week. I go to class on another night. That leaves me with only a couple of nights a week for the rest. My music, writing, and keeping house. After all that, I hardly have time to relax, let alone take on a huge responsibility as this.

This is just a hypothetical question, Phil. No one is expecting anything great from you.

Sweet relief. Of course it would be awesome to something great in the name of Christ. But that's not for ordinary people like me. That's why God has chosen His holy ones. People like Elijah, Paul, and Billy Graham. No one expects anything great from me.

Now I am feeling disappointed.

Disappointed?

Why disappointed? Just a second ago I was relieved by this thought. Am I really doomed to an ordinary life? Destined to a life of watching TV, playing games, and talking about those who are making a difference? Am I a bench warmer in the Super Bowl of life?

So here I am, left with a decision to be made. Do I want to make a difference? Do I want the power to do something in the name of Christ and succeed? It will cost me. It will mean that I will be uncomfortable. It will mean that I will have to give up things that I desire. It will even mean letting go of the things I am already holding on to. The thought of giving up these things makes me sad at first. These are things that bring me pleasure and comfort in my life. I've worked hard for them. But, are they worth giving up the opportunity to make a difference?

Quote of the Week

"Living out of the false self creates a compulsive desire to present a perfect image to the public so that everybody will admire us and nobody will know us."
-Brennan Manning

The Score

"Quit keeping score altogether and surrender yourself with all your sinfulness to God who sees neither the score nor the scorekeeper but only His child redeemed by Christ" -Thomas Merton

Even after numerous sermons on grace, Thomas Merton's words pierced my heart with new revelation. It is so easy for me to see God as a the scorekeeper. I imagine Him shaking His head in disappointment everytime I fail.

"Phil, Phil, Phil. When are you going to learn?" He must say to Himself.

I have disappointed Him again. Knowing this, I look for some way to even the score. Some kind of peace offering. All those sermons on grace has taught me that Jesus isn't holding God back from striking me down with lightning every time I sin. But I still think I need to appease Him.

Then come Merton's words with the new perspective. I can't help but cry when I realize it isn't God who's keeping score, but me. He sees me as the His child, the one that Jesus died to save.

Father God,
I am so glad that You love me more than I can imagine. I know if You loved me the way I imagined You did, I would be lost. Please continue to break down my misconceptions of You, showing me who You really are. Fill me with Your love. Fill me so full I can't contain it, so it spills onto everyone I meet.
Amen.

An Irish Blessing

As you slide down the bannister of life, may the splinters never point in the wrong direction.

Fear Revisited

I have this reoccurring fear. I am afraid that I will disappoint the people who care about me. Once I disappoint them, I am afraid they will no longer like me. So, I do everything I can think of to please the people around me. I say I agree with them when I don't. I laugh at the their jokes that aren't funny. I agree to do things I don't have time for or interest in doing. Then when I am unable to meet someone's expectations, I hide from them. That is the easier thing to do. Better to think someone is disappointed in me than to know I have failed.

This fearful person is a liar. I do not like this person. I chastise myself for not being the person I want to be while I remain in hiding, my heart paralyzed by the fear.

Why am I so afraid of what other people think?

Reading my Bible, I find a story near the beginning about Adam and Eve. Adam and Eve were hiding from God knowing they had disappointed Him. They had been friends with God. They walked with Him often in the evenings. Now, they didn't want to face Him. I wonder if they were afraid God would no longer love them when He found out how they had disappointed Him. This is my greatest fear. I fear I will disappoint God and He will no longer love me.

At first I think God no longer loves Adam and Eve because He throws them out of the garden, never to return. If that were not enough, he curses Adam and Eve causing work and child birth to become more difficult and painful. But then I read something that seems out of place. God gives them clothes. A new picture came to my mind. I now saw Adam and Eve like a couple of teenagers who have knowingly broken the house rules. God, as a responsible parent, is enforcing the rules and the punishment for the infraction. So, as these rebellious teenagers are sent out of the house, this loving parent God filled with love and concern makes sure they have clothes.

I don't like the consequences of my actions. Especially when it disappoints someone I love. But, I am finding that people don't love me for what I do. They love me for who I am. This is even more true about God because God loves perfectly when we do not. In Hebrews 13:5 He says He will never leave us or reject us. There is no condition to this promise.

I am still afraid. I think because I don't completely understand yet. But the more I look at God, the more I learn about Him, the more I spend time with Him and really get to know God, the less I am afraid.

Beauty

I wanted to write something very profound about beauty. I imagined people saying, "I never thought of beauty that way before." However, it seems that what comes out is anything but beauty.

I have noticed that I haven't been appreciating beauty recently. Especially simple beauty. Instead, I have been looking far too much at ugly. Failures, disappointments, lies. Have you noticed how ugly ugly is? It only takes one ugly to ruin a beautiful day. The stranger making a rude gesture at me from the car next to me. My friend doesn't like what I spent the last two months writing. I overdrafted my bank account again. While some ugly is small and only annoying, other ugly cuts to the core of my being. The ugly I hate most is the ugly I find within. When it is the ugly in me hurting others.

Because ugly occupies my mind so much, I find myself wondering if ugly is more powerful than beauty. After all, how often does one glimpse of beauty make my day? It happens rarely. After a day full of ugly, beauty is a dawn after a long dark night. It gives birth to hope when ugly is all around.

So what is the difference? Why is it on some days one ugly spoils and others beauty restores? It comes down to what I have chosen to look at. On a day when I am being annoyed by a small ugly, I storm by the simple beauty along the path. Any of which would bring a shaft of sunlight through the dark gloom in my mind. Perhaps this is one reason the Creator made flowers beautiful. To give me a reason to stop looking at the ugly and look at the beauty.

The Desert

Here I stand in the desert. Sand, sage brush and dead wood. I would call it lifeless if it were not for the carrion circling about waiting for my demise and their dinner. How do I get out of this place? North, south, east, west? I was going somewhere... I'm trying to remember... The memory is fading like last night's dream. It was important to get there, I remember that much. In fact, I was willing to die trying. But now, lost in this desert, I wonder. The desert is all I can see. My heavy pack bites into my shoulders. The vast emptiness is crushing my soul. If only there was someone, anyone out here with me. Someone who knows the way. Someone who can help me remember. Someone to confirm that I am still alive and I still matter.

Life is like this desert. Everyday is the same. The details differ, but each day has the same meaning. Looking back, these days look like the desert. Sand, sage brush and dead wood. What is the point? I went to work. I have earned money to pay for a little corner of this world to call home. In my little corner, I fill it with stuff. Books, music, entertainment. Stuff. I have stuff I haven't seen in years, but it is important to my life. Why? Tomorrow I will go to work so I can continue to have my corner and continue to buy more important stuff to fill it with.

So what is the point? Where am I going? I feel like I'm standing in the middle of the desert, pack full of stuff slung over my shoulder wondering which way to go. Truth is I don't know where to go from here. My only company are the carrion who cry out discouragement and criticism. I wonder, am I dead or alive?

Just when I have decided to give up, the disgruntled carrion scatter. A fresh breeze chases off the stale air. A spark of hope flickers in my soul. It is my friend. Joy I believed to be dead danced with life. I remember now. This journey is worth the risk. He has told me about a place full of life and love. A place where joy never ends and sorrow is left behind. I could never afford the cost of living in such a place, I told him. I was confounded when he laughed. He had already paid my way. All I had to do was follow him there. Leaving my pack behind, I ran to catch up.

I am still following him through this desert to the promised land. There are times that I'm right behind him. I sing as I walk, telling everybody about my friend and his extravagant offer. I wish I could say it was always this way, not just times. There are other times I get distracted by stuff. Something I find along the way that looks cool and is exciting for a while. I put the stuff in a pack so I won't lose it. After all, this is important stuff. It isn't long before my pack is full. I've lost sight of my friend. I have become discouraged. Eventhough I have let my friend down, he always comes looking for me. He usually shows up just when I'm ready to give up.

Thank you Jesus for being my best friend, my savior, my God.