I don't like to say it, but I'm scared. I'm scared because I can find more web sites, more literature, and more people who share only one thing in common: they object to my morality. My morality is a Christian morality, and while the Bible tells us we are to expect persecution for our beliefs (morals included) it is not a comfortable thought. It is a downright bone-chilling, frightening, thought. My usual action is to ignore my fear, ignore the negative views, comments, and speeches. It is getting harder, and I am beginning to worry. I worry not because I actually think my life will be endangered, I expect we are far from that. I worry because I think that I will begin to be attacked, I will personally face the vehemence and vitriol of those who despise my moral convictions.

How does a Christian express intense emotion? This question has been on my mind on and off for a few years, and of late it has dominated quite a bit of my free [brain] cycles. The question initially seems rather silly and entirely moot, however this one question is deceptively deep, insofar as I have yet to encounter someone willing to openly discuss this question and the issues it raises. I offer no answers, as I am still looking, but hopefully some of my points and questions will spur others to think on this issue and provide us all with some insight.

This one question can bring up other questions, and perhaps we should explore them first. For instance, before we can really address this question we need to know how the Christian is supposed to express any emotions. Are there any rules, laws, or principles that govern our emotional expressions. Another question we should ask is, "Do emotions hold any intrinsic moral values?" We should probably explore the differences between "normal" emotions and "intense" emotions. Perhaps in answering these questions we will discover the answer to expressions of intense emotions. Were I a scholar and not a glorified Bible student I might have more answers than questions, yet I do have some thoughts regarding all of these questions.

This morning, before church, I saw an article in a rancher magazine my father-in-law gets. It focused on some of the problems ranchers are facing with current environmental concerns, and some of the more ridiculous cases that have come to light. As one might expect some ranchers were negatively effected by endangered species. This got me thinking along a line I have never before pursued. I am not an evolutionist, I think Darwin made a grave error, however I understand the basic principles and precepts of evolution. It seems to me protecting endangered species violates these principles of evolution, namely the oft mentioned "survival of the fittest". Whilst reading about the troubles some ranchers are having because of endangered species I had to laugh at the irony of a group of people who probably believe in evolution, yet will not allow the weak to die off, instead opting to help them flourish, negating any effects of "natural selection".

It struck me as odd, even contradictory. From a creationist point of view I can see much call for conservation, especially from a Christian creationist viewpoint. As I see it God has commanded us to be good stewards of all He as given us, and since the whole earth is His (and all that is in it, to quote the song) we ought to take good care of His animals, especially those species that might be dying out. So, the irony is, evolutionists are inadvertently doing God's will.

I really hate to pick on a preacher while on vacation, so I won't. Still, there was something in the sermon today which reminded me of my own shortcomings and caused me to become a tad grumpy with myself, especially recalling what I was like as a preacher. Sometime during the sermon the preacher illustrated and identified with us on how hard it is to maintain a desire for God's Word. He spoke quite honestly about the difficulty in doing daily devotions, and made the connection about the difference in having to do something and getting to do something. I'm not sure if the scope of his sermon really would have accounted for what I wanted to hear next, so he may be justified in leaving it out: the preacher never told us how to overcome the struggle he illustrated. This is particularly irksome to me, because that is what I lack in my sermons and in my life (and it is also what I am working on to develop in my life).

One of the reasons I decided to step away from ministry is my lack of life experience. I do not yet have children, I have been married only two years, and I still have many trials to face in life. When I was in ministry I could not identify with the congregation as easily as I wanted. I could not identify with their struggles, I did not know how to help them out of a particular struggle (since I had not faced it), all I could offer them was the obvious destination they wanted to reach and offer to pray for and/or with them. I did not have the "how" figured out; I had the "why" and the "what" but never the "how". So when I heard the same in the sermon today I reflected back on my own shortcomings, and became frustrated. One day I will have some of the "hows" and hopefully then I will be of greater use to the Christian community.

Today's sermon was about worship, at least I think it was. Actually today's sermon was a confusing mess. From where I was sitting (in the pews) it sounded like the preacher had a message but needed a biblical passage to attach to it. The more I think about the actual sermon the more confused I get about what he was trying to communicate, and what he wanted us to do. What I do know is he further perpetuated an American myth and confused worship [to God] with singing songs. This has been all to common, and a great tragedy of our American churches. We do not know what it means to worship God. We have the singing down, maybe, at least we can sing praise songs to God, in three-part harmony, with or without accompaniment. But do we really know what worship is?

Some friends of ours welcomed their first born into the world early this week. It has been a happy and joyous occasion, for a new birth to a young married Christian couple is nearly always a happy occasion. For whatever reason my wife has been privy to the gory details of the long labour, and the pain she imagines has caused her to remark on the "natural" birth control qualities such news provides. At the risk of treading upon feminine ground and dooming myself to a slow and tortuous death there was something in this that brought to mind a theological point I have been pondering and need to ponder more.

We were blessed to be invited to a meeting of some church folks discussing needs for a Young Married's Group. It was a good time, positive, and very hopeful. The fun thing to see was that most of us were looking for the same thing, relationships with people our own age/status for social contacts and a sense that we are not alone; I love it when I see God call groups of people together. Listening and participating in the meeting more puzzle pieces fell into place, and I once again grew to see more of the world, and perceive more of life than I used to. I have now come full circle, from the guy who was invited to group meetings, to one who sought to start and lead some, and now back to invited participant. I can better see all sides of such endeavors, and I wonder if at times "we" (active Christians) are sometimes too ministry minded?

The final thing that caught my mind on Sunday was a reference to Jesus maintaining the laws of the universe (citing a passage in Hebrews). This caused me to give pause to this statement and consider the "Laws" of Physics. The odd thing about them is they are not laws the way we consider laws. We cannot disobey them, no matter how hard we try gravity will always pull at us. They are not like the speed limit on a highway where we have conscious choice to obey or disobey. I liken the Laws of Physics to the structure of a computer program. They are engineered and always act according to a pattern, and an understanding of that pattern allows you to work with, manipulate, and even circumvent the "Laws".

In the context of the passage Jesus is referenced as the one maintaining the Universe, holding up everything. While pondering this in accordance with my view of the Laws of Physics that does not seem so mystical and strange. Jesus is the one who "programmed" the Universe and now enforces and maintains that "code" (though there will be no "bugs" in it).

Perhaps this is not a new thought, nor a new way of thinking about it. But there is something about it that I still want to ponder over. We do not yet fully understand the laws by which Creation functions, so can we understand how Jesus maintains all of Creation? Is it really important and vital anyway?

I'm sorry to have to admit that Sunday's sermon was so boring I had to find things to keep me awake. Three things came to me and I made notes about them, one of which I already discussed (the nature of our relationship with God). We use love in a rather careless manner in our everyday lives; even in church we use love in a rather unthinking manner. As I have been married I have tried hard to never tell my wife I love her without giving her plenty of examples of my love first; I never want to be accused of only saying I love her but not actually love her. The preacher started every prayer with "God I love you . . . " and that made me start to think on this subject (shame on me for getting distracted in prayer so soon!).

Too often our (Christians's) relationship with God is expressed in metaphors and similes. We are poked, prodded, and corralled into a "better" understanding of our relationship with God Almighty. I have struggled, and struggle still, to grasp that relationship. I have tried to liken it to earthly relationships, and failed. I have tried to imagine it as a wholly other kind of relationship, and failed again (I guess I am not that imaginative). In all of this I still wrestle to get a grasp on my relationship with God, but I have learned a few things.

Years back the college group at the church I was attending discussed the topic of the original curses. Eve, and all women, were cursed with a [more] painful childbirth, and they would desire their husbands who would rule over them. Men in turn were cursed with weeds in the fields. All humans were cursed with eternal death and damnation. It was put forth that a more generalized understanding of man's (as in menfolk) curse would be "workaholism". At the time I fought and rejected this premise because I in no way suffered from anything approaching being a workaholic. Even after a year of marriage I would still deny it, for I have never enjoyed my job enough to want to work on it when I was home, opting to spend time on hobbies, relaxing, and just being with my wife. Now I see that has changed and I too am afflicted with a curse.

The other night, while saying our evening prayers, I began to realize I did something very odd in my prayers: I would explain things to God, as if He would not understand. It's a small "offense" and perhaps laughable by God Himself. Still, I find it odd that I felt it necessary to explain why I was praying for something/someone, or what I was really asking for, or the history behind the need. I have always believed God is omniscient, so why have I tried to tell Him stuff I think He may not know? It's not for my wife's benefit, nor is it for mine.

Since discovering this I have cut back on this habit. Sometimes I still do, because I have found there are therapeutic values to exploring my motives, but when my motives are known (and good or harmless) then I choose to grin inwardly, acknowledge God as omniscient, and simply give Him the need, knowing He knows the reasons, and knowing He knows I know. In a way I hope it is one of those moments of intimacy shared among friends, those times when things go unsaid and unexplained because they are accurately inferred and understood. In a way I have a more intimate prayer time now.

Today is a marvelous day for all humanity, and recognized by all Christians. Today is the commemoration of an event more startling than the event remembered at Christmas. On this day we turn our minds to the resurrection of the crucified Christ, the Living God, now a Living Savior. It is a day that holds special meaning to all Christians and brings with it much tradition in American life. Along with Easter dinners, egg hunts, tales of benevolent bunnies, and family gatherings another rare tradition invades our churches. Easter is one of two days churches have a rise in visitors. Along with Christmas Easter finds itself marked as a day when non-religious people will attend a church service, and this one fact has made an impact in many American churches.

I have been quite fortunate to help plan and orchestrate Easter services. It is an awesome experience to consider the import of the day, the influx of visitors, the needs of the congregation, and seek to strike a balance among the factors without disregarding the call of the local church and the pastoral role. Yet the Christian community is not in agreement about the function and call of the local church. Two basic and influential attitudes war with each other. We can either view the local church as a place for the non-Christian to find the Christian Faith, the other option is to see it as an exclusive club for Christians only. Happily there are many gradients between the two, but the ideas remain and war against each other in great scholarly debates. At Easter and at Christmas this issue finds a more practical side, as non-Christians will visit a local church en masse, where they will not likely do so any other Sunday.

To all you fans of the Bible, would be preachers, teachers, and Bible study leaders, allow me to save you some time in your hermeneutics courses by enlightening you on an oft overlooked aspect of literary interpretation. The Bible has many forms and styles of literature gracing its pages, such as narrative, poetry, and epistles. This fact alone has made it a great study of literature throughout the history of the American Education System, for even rejecting the faith, the style and forms are quite instructive. When interpreting literature we must follow some rules (though argues abound regarding which rules) and the one I would like to point out here is quite simple: not all portions of the Bible prescribe our actions.

There are times people compliment my intelligence. There have been times people have been at near awe for my insight into something. I am no genius, and I would not say I am gifted with knowledge beyond that of other people. I happen to learn quickly and I also happen to like to learn, so I tend to know a little about a lot and sometimes people mistake that for a wealth of great knowledge. It's always flattering when people think you are greater than you really are, and it is hard to resist flattery, but nothing can restore your humility like discovering a simple truth that you have not only heard all your life, but have also repeated on numerous occasions! I am certainly not endowed with super-intelligence, for today I finally grasped something I should have understood long ago.

Church is therapeutic in many ways, not least of all the conviction of sin. However, this entry is not how I was convicted of some mortal sin, rather about when a person might shut out the pastor's words. I say this because I can have that tendency, and I recognized it yesterday during the sermon. I happen to be fortunate enough to have the opportunity to attend the sermons of a past professor of mine whom I respect to the utmost degree (sadly he is only a pulpit fill while this church begins searching for a pastor). While listening to his sermon on 1 John 3 (a rather moving and motivating passage of Scripture) I began to ponder my attitude towards preachers.

Something was said in church today that I want to take issue with, because I have encountered it in life too many times; it is well-meant, but inappropriate, and disrespectful. The Christian life does call for confrontation when a brother (or sister) sins. The Bible makes this mandate painfully clear. We can even go so far as to be preventative in our relationships with other Christians helping them to stay out of sin, and while this may not be a crystal clear it is still a great idea. I take no issue with either of these things, but I take issue with people who carry these to extremes, confronting strangers about private sin that may or may not have been committed, in other words a well meaning Christian would intrude upon your life to ask an intensely personal question, without the relationship that would permit such a question.

We continue to hunt for a church which we can call home. Once upon a time I chided those who could not settle down, now I understand their plight, identify with them, and feel for them. It has been a frustrating and discouraging task to find a new church home, and I am embarrassed to say it has taken over a year and we have yet to find a church we can settle down in. I would hope the problem is our laundry list of details we want in a church, but we have only two, maybe three. We want a church with genuine worship, and solid, biblical preaching/teaching (a small group for young married couples would be great). So far these two things have been nearly impossible to find, thus my great disappointment. I feel it is not too much to ask for these things in a church, and we are even acknowledging that no church is perfect, no sermon flawless, no worship set 100% genuine. We know that a church which shows it is growing is a church we can accept if it is not quite up to standards, but to have the core in place is tantamount. We even visit a church for a few Sundays so we can get to know what their normal service might look like. The worship has not been the hardest thing to find; we have found a few churches that have been great in their worship, their friendliness, and the general demeanor of the church. We usually find the preaching to be sorely lacking, so much so that I routinely consider going into the pastorate just so a church can have good preaching! (This is a statement of my frustration, not of my ego.)

Today is a day of oddities for me. I find some part of me that wants to revel in creepy, weird, odd stories. There is some part of me that enjoys nearly scaring myself silly, for reasons I doubt I will ever fully understand. There is another part of me which does not want to take much part in these things on this day. I have spent time in churches, with good church going folk, and know their almost superstitious reaction to the creepy, odd, and macabre. I say superstitious not in the way that they believe in them, but that they believe that if you even flirt with the idea you will somehow damn some part of you for some unspecified length of time: they hold an opposite superstition. Mind, I am not endorsing evil, those things should be avoided for they can corrupt your soul, but to look into unexplained occurrences, ponder over folklore, marvel at mythology, and find some odd fascination in creepy things will not cause harm to your soul (not as far as can be proved that I know of).

Given this time of year I find myself wanting to read H.P. Lovecraft, for he has a way of crafting a chilling tale that has not been matched by any contemporary author I am aware of. This desire to read his works brings about a painful memory of why I cannot so easily and readily enjoy his literature. Years ago, in my youth as it were, I owned all of his short stories in 4 volumes. I read his stories with great interest and saved a good many of them for a rainy day (or night). Not too long after I put myself in the company of some upright and pious individuals, for I felt distant from God: I went to Bible School for one year. Somewhere in that time a religious fervor superceding that of piety took hold of me (many of us actually) and my conscience was over sensitized. In this state I attempted to purify my life of supposed corrupting and evil influences, and among the many things I disposed of were my Lovecraft tomes. I lost literally hundreds of dollars, and felt good about it, for I thought I was ridding myself of idols that were keeping me from God.

I am perplexed about myself. There is within me a struggle yet to be conquered, something which seems to be out of place which I have not yet reigned into submission. The perplexing aspect of it all is the fact that I am conscious of it yet am powerless to change. I know and understand morality is absolute (all people groups will agree murder is wrong, indicating a universal law — this is the short version) and I also understand none of us grasp it completely. Even further some are not even close because they believe in a different Law Giver (I argue for the God of the Bible). Thus we end up with a plurality of moral systems (needless to say they are also in conflict). It cannot be expected for any of us to stop fighting for our moral viewpoint; we believe our definitions of right and wrong based on our underlying religious beliefs and those are hard to break. Here is my perplexity: I know the world at large does not share my morality, yet I am shocked and angered when they transgress against it.

My reaction is not universal, and therein lies what bothers me. There are some moral decisions which can be made and I will merely shake my head and sigh, knowing they are only following their morality yet transgressing God�s commands. There seems to be one moral point I cannot do this with, and I do not understand why. I have placed a great stigma upon sexual immorality that anytime I see it in any form of media it upsets me. It goes so far that I will discontinue enjoying a series despite the fact the sexual misconduct is only a side point and bears no thought on the plot. This one thing I cannot shake my head at and sigh. I can behold people blaspheming God, worship idols, practice witchcraft, steal, lie, and carry on in other fashions and understand they are living their morality, accept it, and interact with the material, yet when it comes to sex, I react.

I would understand it better if sexual promiscuity was a major sin, something that could damn your soul, yet it does not seem to bear that same weight. A blasphemer of God is in more peril than a fool who engages in sex before/outside of marriage. I will understand those who think and speak ill of God, and even be willing to engage in a discussion with them: I will not reject those who reject God. Yet I find myself naturally rejecting and wanting to condemn those who err sexually. I can find no basis for this in my thinking. I have no moral reason to be so harsh on this one sin over others. Yet one thing does come to mind: sexual sin betrays any deep, intimate, and sacred love you could have for another human being.

Perhaps I cherish a tender love which can wait for marriage and then only show itself to one person, until death parts them. Perhaps I am more of a romantic than I knew. Perhaps.