Be Irrelevant

I've got a story I've been wanting to share for some time now. 

The man. The myth. The legend.

Last month, Shane Claiborne spoke at our small, insignificant school. He’s a guy who lives in community with the homeless people in his city, and actually literally lives with them. He looks totally different from most people we know, physically and spiritually, and doesn’t care about a lot of the stuff we care about.

He was the perfect speaker for our student body's "theme" that month: be bold. He talked to us about a variety of topics, but the most interesting piece of his presentation was the brief discussion he hosted following his talk.

During this time, there was an opportunity for us to ask Shane questions - nothing really seemed out of bounds at that point. So, after he spoke, one of the students at our school posed this question to Shane Claiborne:

“Do you think your lifestyle keeps you from being relevant and ministering to others?”

Wait, what!?

The question blew my mind.

We invited this guy who has dreads longer than my beard (which is saying something), who gives us the most vivid illustration of living in solidarity with the poor, and all we can think to ask him is, "Are you worried you're irrelevant?"

This, my friends, is a microcosm of what's wrong with what Greg Boyd calls the Bridezilla of Christ. But I digress.

I couldn’t believe that anyone would WANT Shane Claiborne to be “relevant” and care about the crap we care about. In choosing to live in solidarity with the poor, he has chosen to be relevant to those who could care less about relevancy as we understand it. He chooses to be Jesus with skin on, but what we want him to be is something more like a super "cool" hipster (who just happens to like Jesus).

This is absurd, my friends. Where have we gone wrong?

I can hear the objections now.

"But what about where Paul says 'become all things to all people?'"

I imagine this would be the biggest argument for some sense of so-called relevancy. So does this mean Shane Claiborne is wrong?

To answer that, I want to look at the life of another person who is going above and beyond in being a radical Christian: Katie Davis.

In case you haven't heard about this amazing woman, check out this video, which was made as an introduction to her book, Kisses from Katie.

And on the off chance that you aren't able to watch the video, but still want to know about Katie, here's an embarrassingly quick summary: after her senior year of high school, Katie took a mission trip to Uganda. Now, in her early 20s, she lives amidst the people of Uganda as the mother to fourteen Ugandan orphans.

That's some insane stuff, right there - which I suspect is exactly the sort of "stuff" Jesus is interested in. That's why we Christians feel so drawn toward the spirits of the Shane Claibornes or Katie Davises. We can't help but want to be like them.

But wait a second. We're talking about relevancy here. And these two people are the epitome of irrelevancy as far as we're concerned. One is a full-time homeless guy. The other is a full-time mother in Uganda. We can't relate to them. I mean, I know I can't. I have a home, and I'm most certainly not a mother.

So they must be doing it wrong... right?

They're failing in their calling to be "all things to all people."

Or are they?

What are we missing here? We know they're doing something right, but if we make them relevant, then these two wonderful people become just like the rest of us - boring, plain consumers on a mission to live the American dream - all for the sake of some misguided notion of relevancy.

What we're missing is this: we too often confuse relevancy with contextualization. Paul was all things to all people, but that was a hat-tip to becoming one with the culture he lived in, not one with the trends or popular ways of the world.

Relevancy deals with a fleeting moment - trends and popularity. Contextualization deals with culture - becoming all things to all people.

In his book, Viral, Leonard Sweet has this to say about culture:

Admittedly, the word "culture" is one of the most slippery terms used in the social sciences... When I refer to culture, I mean primarily the unvarnished vernacular of a place or period. In the 1960s, when a middle-class youth wanted to rebel, they grew beards and smashed stereos. When Amish youth wanted to protest... they shaved their beards and bought stereos. Culture shapes behavior and how we express our beliefs.

When I was in training to prepare for my time in the war-torn country of Sierra Leone, I was trained to contextualize, not to be relevant. I worked for weeks on learning the culture of the country, not what was popular or trendy at the time. I worked to understand the hearts of the people who lived there, not to understand the intricacies of soccer (their favorite sport).

And if I wanted to return to Freetown today, I could, because I was taught culture, not relevancy.

You see, being relevant is one of the biggest scams Satan has sold the 21st century Church (especially in the US). Millions of people have sold out to the whims of pop-culture (and yes, there's a difference) in the name of relevancy.

We say we're being relevant by immersing ourselves in The Bachelor or in Twilight or even (heaven forbid) The Hunger Games. We say we're trying to be relevant by obsessing over how we look or the latest fashion trends. We say we're trying to be obedient to being "all things to all people," but in the end, we simply look confused.

We have to stop pretending we don't enjoy these things, people. We like shows like The Bachelor and movies like The Hunger Games. We don't just watch them under some misguided guise of relevancy. We watch them because we enjoy them.

David Platt, author of Radical, recently interviewed Katie Davis. They discussed Katie's ministry, her heart, and her passion for the children she cares for. One of the most interesting questions that he asks Katie, though, is this: "Do you think what you're doing is radical?"

Unsurprisingly, Katie Davis said, "No."

You see, many spirits who would otherwise be radical have been subdued in the name of "relevancy." If those spirits had never been subdued, we wouldn’t even be talking about relevancy or even being radical, because what we call radical now is really just the basic way of life that Jesus calls us to. There’s nothing radical about that.

So let's make a pact. Let's stop pretending we don't enjoy these fads that we indulge. Let's stop the facade of relevancy (when we know we truly enjoy being popular, even if only for a moment). Let's stop the show.

Instead, let us be irrelevant. Let's engage our culture, but not its whims. Let's engage our people, but not their trends. Let's be genuine, loving, sacrificing people in the name of Love, but not simply because it will score us cool points with our friends.

Let's forget about relevancy and be irrelevant.

I suspect, in the shedding of our trendy wannabe-hipster skin, we'll see that what lies below is what we've been searching for all along.

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Questions: Have you ever thought of the difference between relevancy and contextualization? How can we be less relevant and more radical? Who are some other radical Christians that inspire you to be more like Jesus?

Did you enjoy this post? If so, I'd appreciate you subscribing to Life Before the Bucket and sharing it with your friends. Thanks a million for reading!  

Win of the Week

If the Monday of Spring Break is the best Monday of the year, then the Friday of Spring Break is the worst.

It's the end of an unusually relaxing week for us, but for those of you with real jobs, it was probably "just another" week.

Or was it?

Around here, there are no "just another" weeks. Why? Because we celebrate every week, regardless of how boring, good, or bad the week was. We share our victories and give each other a much-needed pat on the back.

It's that time, my friends. Let's share our Win of the Week together.

I'm going to be a little greedy here and share two, mostly because it's (most likely) my last Spring Break.

My first win involves Life Before the Bucket. Together, we were able to raise $125 for World Water Day! And even though we weren't able to fully fund a well-worker, we still helped change the lives of over 1,000 people who don't have access to clean water because their well has broken or they didn't have a well to begin with.

Also, the organization we partnered with, The Adventure Project, reached it's goal of raising $25,000, which means that The Prem Rewat Foundation is matching their funds dollar for dollar. This means that we effectively raised $250!

Also, a small added bonus was seeing a few people come out of the woods who don't usually comment! Thanks to everyone who participated - many lives were changed through your generosity.

My second win was more personal. I've managed to almost read 3 books this week, including rereading The Hunger Games, which released in theatres last night. We're seeing it today, which I can't wait for! And yes, you'll probably be reading a blog post about it - if I can come up with something original that someone else hasn't already written.

So what about you? What was your win of the week? 

World Water Day

This morning, when you woke up, did you think about it?

As you brushed your teeth.

As you took a shower.

As you drank your first sip of coffee.

Did it cross your mind?

When you drove your car from there to here.

When you washed your hands at work.

When you took a swig of water to quench your thirst.

Did you even notice?

My friend, if you did any of these things this morning, you're privileged. But not just you. Me. We. We are blessed to have access to clean, running water. And all we have to do is turn a faucet for that stream of life to flow effortlessly into our hands, into our mouths, into our bodies.

Today, my friends, is World Water Day, and is as good of a day as any to remember: we are blessed beyond our wildest dreams. We are able to strive to live our lives to the full (our "life before the bucket"), while others struggle to live life at all.

Today, though, I want to do more than remember. I want to spread this life that we have. To give others the opportunities that we have. And though the step is small, it is significant.

I want to help raise money to help train a mechanic to fix and maintain wells so that others can have the opportunity to live their lives to the fullest.

Why well-mechanics? Well, first of all, we want to bring about something substantial and sustainable. We're keeping in step with the age-old adage, "Give a man a fish, and he'll eat for a day; teach a man to fish, and he'll eat for a lifetime." Second of all, wells break, and thus, need fixing. A well-mechanic can do just that.

I originally thought that raising $100 toward this cause would be great. And it would be. But then I realized - we can do so much more.

On average, about 75 to 100 people read Life Before the Bucket on a daily basis. This means that if every person who reads donates $10 toward educating and equipping a well-mechanic, we could fully fund the education of one nearly two mechanics who will help countless others.

It sounds like you may only be helping two people live out their lives more fully, but think about this:

Two mechanics will be trained.

Those two people will care for 50 wells each.

Fifty functioning wells ensures clean water for five-thousand people.

That means, if we're able to fully support two mechanics, we, in this tiny microcosm of the world wide web, could drastically affect the lives of ten thousand people.

That's mind-boggling.

So here's your mission, if you choose to accept it:

1. In the next week, check out our fundraising page. 

2. After you've read up on what we're doing, donate $10. It's quick, it's easy, it's painless. And if $10 is a stretch for you, consider foregoing a luxury in lieu of providing clean water for others. It's worth it - I promise.

3. Finally, after you've donated, tell at least two friends. Send them here, or better yet, send them straight to the fundraising page.

And hey, as an added bonus, if we reach $550 (our goal), we'll receive a story and photo about a mechanic we've helped. How cool is that?!

Plus, just to add a little incentive - I'll be hosting a giveaway if we reach our goal - and I promise it'll be more than $5 this time.

So here we go, my friends. This will be a week that will change lives all across the world.


Will you be a part of it? Donate now.

How I Became God's Basking Case

Note from Adrian: This is the second part of a two-part guest post from Aly Lewis in our Living to the Fullest guest post series. Check out part one, "The Unwelcome Elephant," if you missed it yesterday. And don't forget to leave some love for Aly and follow her on her blog and on Twitter!

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And that was the beginning of the basking. The beginning of a life lived to the full.

This basking is just my way of saying that I learned to accept God’s love for me.

The basking started imperceptibly. A few encouraging words here. A short reprieve from guilt there. Cheeseball alert: then I began writing love letters to a skeptic: myself. Things like,

Aly,

I love you if you work out.
I love you if you don't work out.
I love you if you sweat sweat sweat it out.
I love you if you don't eat enough.
I love you if you eat too much.
I love you if you call mom back.
I love you if you isolate yourself.
I love you if have a productive day at work.
I love you if you sit on Facebook the whole time.
I love you if you're feeling hot.
I love you if you're feeling bored.
I love you if you give to the poor.
I love you if you splurge on a fancy dinner.
I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you.

It sounds cheesy. It sounds silly. But something REAL began to happen in my heart and my mind as I began to bask in these words of love.

In fits and starts, this Love began to come alive not only in my thoughts and reasonings, but in heart and in my life. “I love you” began to come alive.

And as “I love you” came alive, the elephant began to die. I began to tell myself a better story that allowed me to live like I was loved, like I was forgiven. I became vigilant in my basking, leaving no room for the elephant to trumpet his tauntings in my life.

And only after months of keeping the elephant at bay, did I finally begin to believe that maybe there is a loving God. That maybe it was the God of love who made me free, who was there loving me all along.

That maybe He’s the better story.

You may be thinking, “That’s all well and good for you, Aly, but what about your initial prayer asking to love and serve others better?”

Turns out my church friends who told me to bask knew something I didn’t: I can’t love others if I don’t love myself.

If I had followed God’s greatest commandment “To love others as yourself,” what a disaster that would have been (and believe me, it was.) How could I expect to love others if I went around accusing, attacking, and belittling them like I did myself?

In Margaret Feinberg's book, The Sacred Echo, she explains this transforming power of self-love better than I ever could. She says,

"When God echoes I love you, it’s not a slice of information but a feast of transformation. I am invited to experience the fullness of God’s love in my life, heart, and spirit. The holy metamorphosis is designed to ring so genuine and true that others can’t help but notice. When I love you is alive in my heart, I become freer to love others. When I love you is alive in my mind, I become better at expressing that love. When I love you is alive in my life, I become a smidgen closer to being who God has called and created me to be."

Love for myself made me freer to love others, to serve others, to defend the poor, and be a voice for the voiceless.

One of my friends once said “Self-hatred is a social justice issue,” and I couldn’t agree more. How can I believe the poor are worth anything if I don’t believe I am worth anything?

I really do believe this basking, this experience I've had with God's unconditional, unconventional, unfathomable love, has shaped and formed me to love others better.

It turns out the only antidote to the fear, self-doubt, and condemnation that sneaks in to poison our lives like unwelcome elephants is LOVE. Compassion for ourselves. Grace for ourselves. Which bleeds into grace for others, for a hurting world.

This is the backbone of a life lived to the full. A life lived without an unwelcome elephant.

I’m sure it sounds cliché. I mean, it’s the basis of our faith. You were probably looking for the advanced version, not the Life-to-the-fullest-for-dummies. But I’m a dummy when it comes to getting this spiritual life right. And perhaps this is more for me than for you, but sometimes I just need the reminder that I AM LOVED. That the elephant doesn’t win.

Psalm 34:8 says, “Taste and see that the Lord is good.”

If you want to live a life to the full, taste and see that you are loved. Then slam the door on that greedy little monster’s face, and go (or rather skip) on your merry way, bidding farewell to this unwelcome elephant, unencumbered and free.

Let the basking begin.

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Questions: Were you surprised at how Aly decided to turn into a basking case? What does this look like in your own life? How can loving yourself better (and letting God love you) be a form of social justice?

This guest post was part of a guest post series called "Living to the Fullest." Interested in joining in? I'm still looking for submissions! Just write up a post, or even just an idea, and e-mail it my way!

The Unwelcome Elephant

Note from Adrian: This is a guest post from Aly Lewis, a fellow blogger. Aly is a twenty-something writer from San Diego, CA. When she’s not writing ridiculously witty and yet still thoughtful and inspiring copy for the international non-profit Plant With Purpose, you can find her roller blading, showing off her dope hip hop moves, or overanalyzing her quarter life crisis. 

Aly has a passion for social and ecological justice, anyone who speaks Spanish, and experiencing the God of the unexpected. You can check out her mismatched musings on her blog, Memoirs of Algeisha, or on Twitter!

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The feeling only comes in two sizes: regular - can’t shake this vexing sensation but still able to function, and extra large - paralyzing, life-stopping, all-consuming.

If you allow this unwanted guest to sneak past the bouncer of extra large you can pretty much say hello to an eternity of bumping and grinding with this guy in the nightclub of hell. When he comes looking for you in your modest skirt and smoothed hair, assuming invincibility because you don’t flaunt yourself around like a floozy, you need to stop, drop, and roll off the bus leading you down the one-way highway to the danger zone.

Trust me, you do not want to let this guy anywhere near you, your hopes, your future, your children, even your dog. He will squash your dreams and eat your confidence for breakfast. He will steal your identity and transform you into a small, frightened child. His presence prickles your hair and dries your mouth. With your heart beating like a conga drum, he wraps his icy fingers around your tender throat, daring you to call out his name. But you can’t reveal his identity. You don’t even know who he is.

But I do. He is the unwelcome elephant of fear and self-hatred.

You give him an inch and he’ll take a foot, your leg, your whole body and mind, and your little dog too.

This is not a life to the full.

I used to let this elephant rule my life. I used to tell myself awful stories. Depressing, really. I told myself stories of how dumb I was. How ugly. How boring. How awful. I was never good enough. Even in my relationship with God I wasn’t good enough.

So I left the church. I left it all. What was the point? How was I supposed to love God or love my neighbors if I didn’t love myself?

And I stayed there, angry and encumbered.

Until I became God’s basking case.

No, not basket case, (although I’m sure there’s a hint of that, too). Basking case.

This part of the story starts with a rebuttal.

When I first came back to church, people started asking me if they could pray for me. Most of the time, I said no.

But after awhile, after racking my brain to come up with anything I might like the almighty creator of the universe to help me out with, I finally decided on the one prayer request I felt comfortable asking.

“I’d like to be able to love and serve others better,” I mumbled more to my feet than to anyone in particular.

And the response?

“No, that is not what you should pray for.”

Excuse me?

Since when does a prayer request have to pass quality control? When I was a junior high youth leader we'd pray for students' sick fish, cats, and Nano babies. No prayer was too big or too small.

But the congregation had spoken: I was not to pray to serve others better.

“I have an image for you instead,” they said--they all said, different people on different occasions. All with the same image, the same concept. The same Instead...

Instead they all had an image of me basking in God's love.

One couple told me, "Aly, you are beautiful. I see you lying in a meadow. Soaking in God's love."

Another woman (on a separate occasion) told me: "I see a picture of you in a field of flowers, basking in God's love."

Another person straight up told me, "No, I don't think you should pray to love others. I believe you need to bask in God's love."

The first time I heard this, I scoffed.

The second time I heard this, I scoffed.

The third time I heard this, I started to get nervous.

Basking, really? That’s about the sissiest verb I’ve ever heard and somehow everyone in this church is obsessed with it.

I didn't want images of soaking and basking and laying lazily in a field of wild flowers. I wanted to help people. I wanted to make a difference. I wanted my god to care about injustice and oppression. I wanted my god to help me love others better, to quiet the guilt in my heart for being born to a well-off family in the wealthiest country in the world.

If you're going to give me an image, I thought, let it be of selling all I have and giving it to the poor. An image of writing award winning exposés that shut down sweat shops and bring justice to the marginalized around the world. An image of revolution. Of anger. Of action.

That's not what my church friends had for me. And it's not what God had for me either.

Check back tomorrow for Part Two of Aly's story!

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Questions: Does being God's basking case sound "sissy" to you? How would you react if someone told you that you should focus on basking in his love? Do you struggle with the unwanted elephant that Aly describes?

This guest post was part of a guest post series called "Living to the Fullest." Interested in joining in? I'm still looking for submissions! Just write up a post, or even just an idea, and e-mail it my way.