bohemian-alien.net

I have a confession to make.

(Research has shown that readers are 45 percent more likely to be drawn in by dramatic and shocking confessions so I thought this would be a good way to get you to read further)

I don’t really trust people.

Maybe you shouldn’t trust me either, seeing as how I made up that 45 percent statistic.

A less sensational, less reactionary statement might be: As I get older, I find it harder and harder to trust others.

In my church, where I serve as a pastor, this can be a bit of a handicap as my job description itself requires that I invest in others and then trust them to be ministers and missionaries themselves. Now, my lack of trust is not based on some kind of desire for Orwellian-mind-control over people; nor is it driven by paranoia and anxiety, at least not consciously.

Still, sometimes a Bible-school-drop-out cautiously navigating the church world can feel a bit like the character in Brooklyn-based The National’s indie rock masterpiece “Secret Meeting.”

I think this place is full of spies
I think they’re onto me
Didn’t anybody, didn’t anybody tell you
Didn’t anybody tell you how to gracefully disappear in a room
I know you put in the hours to keep me in sunglasses, I know

More troubling than the occasional moment of outsider culture shock is the nagging feeling that people might not personally care about me or worse, that they might collectively reject our mission together.

Spiritual dualism does seem to be alive and well in the American church, as evidenced by the latest Barna data (see the book UnChristian by David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons) showing that many Christians might believe the right things but don’t place much value on living the right things.

Ask anyone you know who spends much time outside mainstream Christianity and they could likely tell you the same thing, sans scientific interview methods. You don’t have to look far to see the obviously troubling signs.

There does seem to be a disconnect in many people that seems to emphasize the willingness of the spirit over the sinfulness of the flesh. It can be hard to put your faith in people who don’t seem to live like their choices matter. (You can see my sinful, judgmental attitude reflected in this statement)

I accept much of this as my own problem. Cultural obstacles notwithstanding, I cannot simply quit trusting people because our society places a high emphasis on personal comfort and little to none on living biblically and righteously.

I cannot quit advocating for the poor and the outcast because I have a suspicion that the message is falling on deaf ears. I cannot stop including others in the mission of reaching out in our city, in seeking transformation in our community because I think they are hopeless.

There must be some element of choice involved. I take heart in Henri Nouwen’s seeming simplistic statement from Here and Now: Living in the Spirit. He wrote “we always have a choice to live the moment as a cause of resentment or as a cause for joy.”

Some of my lack of trust probably has to do with aging. A documented phenomenon in the Baby Boomers was their generation’s gradual shift from a liberal belief in the nature of and possibilities inherent to human beings to a conservative, skeptical view of people as fatally flawed and needing to be held in check. It is certainly true that we grow more cynical as we come into increased contact with disappointment and failure.

My beautiful, pure, sweet 15-month-old daughter Amelia routinely falls asleep in her stroller while we’re on long walks. She nods off in her car seat and also in my arms while we wait for our oil change at Wal-Mart. She trusts her parents of course, but she also trusts others too.

I, on the other hand, even struggle to fall asleep in the car while my wife drives. My life experience has naturally and dramatically made me a less trusting person than my inexperienced daughter.

I believe, however, that life experience is not an excuse for not having faith in people. In fact, the difficult question must be asked: If I can’t trust people, can I even begin to trust God?

Not trusting the people around me implies that God doesn’t know what he is doing.

Not trusting the people God’s called me to, implies that I alone know what’s best. Perhaps I’m even guilty of a form of dualism myself, one that elevates God’s revelation to his people as a sort of perfect form (Platonic forms) while our real, material community can never measure up to that spiritual ideal.

Death Cab for Cutie’s dualism-defying “Soul Meets Body,” may ultimately be nothing more than a nonsensical, romantic ode to a brief fling but the first verse hints at something more profound:

I want to live where soul meets body
And let the sun wrap its arms around me
And bathe my skin in water cool and cleansing
And feel, feel what its like to be new

Like the character in the song needs to bathe in cleansing water, I need to be continually delivered from my unbelief. I need to be healed. I need to have my faith renewed, and to have my relationships with other people constantly restored.

Acts 18:9-10 reads, “One night the Lord said to Paul in a vision, ‘Do not be afraid, but speak and do not be silent; for I am with you, and no one will lay a hand on you to harm you, for there are many in this city who are my people.’ (NIV)

In the context for this passage, Paul was discouraged by a tepid response and even suffered abuse at the hands of the people of Corinth. He clearly needed some reassuring and God gave him a response that left no room for doubt: he was already at work in the hearts of people in that city.

Jon Stewart once said in a Rolling Stone magazine interview, “The reason I don’t worry about society is, 19 people knocked down two buildings and killed thousands. Hundreds of people ran into those buildings to save them. I’ll take those odds every day.”

I too, take great comfort in those odds because I believe that God was already at work in the hearts of people in that particular city. When we see heroism and bravery, we see Christ-in-us, we see the hope of glory.

These days evil seems to surround us. Make no mistake, we don’t deny that the sinful nature of man leads to pain, suffering and injustice. Churches themselves are full of all of those things. But God is at work, and that demands change.

I can’t trust God if I don’t trust people.