Wrath from a Father's Perspective

Since my son was born a week ago, my father-protector instincts have been off the charts. I feel such intense love and loyalty not only for Levi but also for my wife and daughter that I feel a ferocious compulsion to keep them safe from all harm. When I have perceived one of them being harmed, isolated, bullied, or shamed, I have reacted with surprising anger. It’s not just that I’m upset by the offender’s behavior and its unfortunate consequences on my family. The full force of my personal hatred for another human being is focused on that single person in that moment. Even if the offender is a close friend, I find that all my previous compassion and loyalty for that person is consumed in a split second by a murderous personal vendetta against them. I would sooner wipe them off the face of the earth than let them injure my own. I don’t care about the personal or environmental reasons for their behavior. All that matters in that moment is my family’s safety and wellbeing.

I’ve been totally taken aback by this response because I’m passive and rational by nature. I fear uncontrolled emotion, and 9 times out of 10 I’d rather internalize pain than defend myself. So this furious protectiveness is completely outside my comfort zone. I keep wondering if I’ve strayed from the gospel, imagining that passivity and grace are somehow tied together.

But the more I read the bible, the more I’m inclined to believe that I’m experiencing a microcosm of God’s Father heart for his creation. 4 months ago, I began to experience a profound sense of the Father’s love for me. Wave upon wave of His grace, acceptance, and delight washed over me in a daily encounter with Love. THAT experience empowered me to pull out of my miserly shell of judgmentalism and shame-based religion. Others close to me began to feel the overflow of that profound love that is free of accusation or moral browbeating.

Then I got to thinking…. If this is how much God loves His children, how does He feel when another person hurts His child? Suddenly the images of God riding on a thundercloud, melting mountains, and demanding justice started to make sense. I could understand why my sweet huggable Jesus is depicted in Isaiah as a man treading the winepress of God’s fury, robes stained with the blood of nations…. Or as the rider in Revelation with a deadly double-edged sword protruding from his mouth.

I began to understand Jesus’ fury when he shouted to the Pharisees, “Hypocrites! You travel over land and sea to win a single convert, and when he becomes one, you make him twice as much a son of hell as you are.” It’s not that Jesus hated Pharisees, but that he deeply loved people and that love displaced any shred of permissive compassion for those who wound His little children. No wonder he says, “It would be better for him to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around his neck than for him to cause one of these little ones to sin.”

What if God’s wrath didn’t come from an esoteric, abstract sense of justice? What if it came from a deep fatherly love multiplied by infinity? What if it really was personal?

In light of that… yes, I believe in Hell. If God’s love for His people is infinite and eternal, it makes sense that His final judgment against the wicked is neither temporary nor annihilistic. If suffering and love both exist, then wrath must also exist.

So it’s one of those paradoxes that I’ve grown accustomed to in the Christian faith. I live my life confidant of the tender, father heart of God. But at the same time, God scares the hell out of me because I know that His tender love extends to all people and I haven’t always treated others graciously. It’s not just a deferential respect towards my creator but a real sense of awe and fear.

As my fierce protective love for my family grows, so grows my understanding of God’s fierce personal love for His own and His wrath towards those who stand in opposition to that love.

What's in a Role: Are you my Mentor?

There’s some confusion about what discipleship is and what it isn’t. Some people feel that disciple-building relationships deal with mentoring between a wise elder and a young person. Others feel it’s more like “friendship with a purpose.” Personally, I’m flexible. I find that people raised in conservative circles often like the power differentiation of the mentoring relationships while others find it a bit alienating. When I’m entering a discipling relationship, I typically withhold judgment about the role I can play in this person’s life until I’ve met with him several times. I may never verbalize a label for a relationship unless he asks. But if I do, I find it helpful to bear three things in mind:

1.     Roles can be freeing. I’ve been able to pour tons of quality time into people I wouldn’t typically connect with simply because I don’t expect them to meet my needs. A young guy once said, “I feel bad that we meet every week and just talk about me. Don’t you want me to ask some questions about your life?” To which I responded, “You can ask me anything you’d like, but I want you to know that I’m here for you. I don’t expect you to be there for me.” That freed both of us from the obligation to build a two-sided friendship and allowed us to focus on his personal growth. I didn't have to worry about whether he was meeting my needs.

2.     Roles can be crippling. I’ll be the first to admit that my tendency to slap roles on all my relationships has sometimes isolated me and driven me back and forth between self-loathing and pride. Are you worth my time? Am I worth your time? In my life, simple friendships are hard to find partially because I turn all potential friendships into work. To relax, trust, receive care, and engage as a peer is a struggle that deprives me of meaningful community. After an initial meeting with one such friend, I discovered through a mutual friend that his primary reaction was, “dude. You don’t have to be on the clock with me.”

3.     Roles can be organic. This was SO fun for me to discover. At the end of last year’s men’s group, I was spent. I had met semi-regularly with 10 guys primarily as a leader, an advocate, but not as a friend. Exhausted I told my co-leader, Mike, “I really like you. I want to hang out with you. But I can’t handle deep conversations right now. How do you feel about video games?” True to his word, Mike and I spent several afternoons mindlessly playing games, eating Pakistani food, and cultivating a deep kinship that lasts to this day. Likewise, the day I moved away from Chicago, I called one of my guys and we chatted on the phone for two hours... primarily about me. The whole time, I was thinking, “wow, I actually really enjoy this guy!” Similar things have happened with at least two or three other guys. Having cared for them, they grow and begin to care for me, becoming great advocates and dear friends.

I like roles. I really do. But I’m finding it necessary to hold them loosely. Sometimes it’s the people I’ve cared for in the past who are best able to care for me.

Being mean to your baby, and a new song

Do you know how to make sure your baby gets a full feeding? Put a cold wet washcloth on his back. Seems cruel right? But it wakes him up so that he can eat all he wants and then he’ll sleep soundly. Most kids are half-hearted, sleepy eaters. But I understand that regular full feedings are one of the best ways to establish a normal schedule for your baby. Do you think I find a spiritual metaphor in that? You bet.

Today I’m grieving irreparable relationships. I’ve lost my share of friends over the years due to my immaturity, sustained conflict, or situations beyond anyone’s control. Conversation doesn’t typically help because at least one party has lost the strength and motivation to continue a painful relationship. God has been teaching me that these broken friendships will continue to prick at my heart for years and years and that’s okay.

It’s unbelievably uncomfortable for me to accept the idea that I can’t FIX people’s opinions of me or singlehandedly set the terms of my relationship with them. I’ve tried to hash things out so many times, believing that if people just understood my heart, they’d like me. Problem is, sometimes my heart comes up lacking. Other times, these people just don’t give a damn.  Typically, I can’t really blame them.

I feel like God said to me today, “I gave you relationships you can’t fix,” as though that were some kind of Christmas present. I felt like He was asking me to let myself feel the loss of relationship AND the loss of personal control over other people. It an amazingly humbling process. And not to over-spiritualize it, but I do feel like it forces me into a desperate place of needing the nourishment that only Father can give. It wakes me up from my sleepy delusions of self-sufficiency. It draws me close to my emotional and spiritual food source. It reminds me to eat.

I wrote a song about this combined with what I was reading in Mark 4. I recorded it and posted it to bandcamp. It’s totally worth a listen if ONLY for the ending where Annabel interrupts and starts talking to me about the baby. You can listen to it for free at…

http://nathanharkness.bandcamp.com/track/whole-home-forgiven

If you’re interested in the lyrics, here they are!

You’re hand is like a wet

Cold cloth on my warm bare back

And I start awake

Latching on, drawing life from your breast from your veins

You said if seed falls to the ground

And dies it comes around to life

And spreads a thousand seeds to find

The fertile soil, the tilled and toiled

You said a lamp should never hide

The light in camps of darkness where

The blind have stumbled on for ages

Tearing pages from their minds

And if the smallest seed could sleep

In richest beds and start to root

With mighty branches reaching up

It makes a shady place to rest

And oh…

I will be whole

I will be home

I’ll be with the Lord

And be forgiven

More about the name: Levi Samuel

Here’s a journal entry I wrote about my unborn son on September 12 while in Colorado. Debra had been praying that God would give me a name for this child. One day as I was praying an inspiration came, a quiet assured voice (I listen to those: so far they’ve taken me to my life’s vocation, my marriage, and my career) saying, “His name is Levi Samuel.” What follows is a mix of God’s inspiration and my interpretation about the character and personal destiny of my son:

Levi Samuel

A man of peace. One who hears the voice of the Lord.

“My covenant was with [Levi], a covenant of life and peace, and I gave them to him; this called for reverence and he revered me and stood in awe of my name. True instruction was in his mouth and nothing false was found on his lips. He walked with me in peace and uprightness, and turned many from sin.” (Malachi 2:5-6)

Like Samuel, (interjection: a close friend had prayed over Debra, and said she believed our son had the “spirit of Samuel”, a biblical priest figure who heard God’s voice as a child) I will call him at a young age. He will hear My voice and follow Me.

A sense of Levi Samuel leading nations in the worship and reverence of the Lord. Levi is a worship leader. He has a tender heart, yet he is full of strength and power, secure and rooted in the Love of his Father.

From a young age, Levi will cease to follow only his parents’ instruction. The Lord Himself will lead and teach Levi and he will grow to be a source of spiritual blessing and guidance for his parents. He will surpass them in faith, courage, and zeal for the Lord

The Lord has anointed Levi Samuel a leader of nations, a man of peace, a lover of God.

Boy that gives me chills to read because as much as I can discern, it fits my son perfectly. He is a quiet, peaceful, tender child. He almost never cries (even when getting a shot he gives only a single cry). He eats with ferocity and focus. He loves to sleep on my chest but is also content for hours in his bassinet. He seems to be the very image of quiet security, intimate attachment, and focused strength. He seems in touch with himself but deeply resilient at the same time. I recognize in him a tremendous faith and courage combined with a deep personal intimacy with the God who made him. So I’m not joking when I say this kid is special. He truly is a game-changer.

A photo-tour of the last 8 weeks.

I've become aware that I've been blogging all this time with NO PICTURES!! And if I'm correct in reading Gaston's inference from Beauty and the Beast, then it is appropriate for me to declare in disgust, "How can you READ this?!" SO... just for fun, let me give you a quick photo tour of our last month or so. Come see the world through my... er, lens.

Late October trip to Duluth to see sister Becky's new baby: Charlotte Grace

 

 

And of course we ran around in the Snugli for a good chunk of the day. If you're a dad, you might remember how fun it is do have infants in the Snugli... and how painful to your lower back.

 

 

 

 

an impromptu family photo shoot while we're in Duluth!

Papa Satre keeps saying she looks about 16 years old here

A visit to friends, the Luvolds. Bruce is a well-digger. But don't let him fool you. He's got a soft spot for 3-year-olds

This particular 3-year-old has decorated Uncle Bruce with every beanie baby she could find!

Grandpa and grandma Harkness are avid garage salers. The lion costume was just one of their scores for Annabel

So of course, we had to take her trick-or-treating in it!

Annabel with a friend at a cider pressing party. Every year the Bird family presses hundreds of gallons of cider from fallen and left-over apples. We helped press. Then we took home 8 gallons. Two gallons are now bottled as hard cider after a month of careful fermenting using brewing yeast.

After pressing there was the potluck. This is my dream: big work parties followed by big meals. Community in action.

Speaking of which, Faith Covenant Church (which we now call home) did this cool "Love Burnsville Sunday" where instead of morning services, they all met at the church and split into teams to rake leaves in the neighborhoods. I never liked church much anyways. This was a much nicer way to spend the morning.

A great source of mommy-daughter bonding lately has been crafting together. Both parties become quite engaged in the process!

This is Andrew. We were in 4th grade Sunday school together. We hang out a lot these days. Here he is indulging me on a walk across a forbidden bridge.

Some of our supporter actually started a FUND to buy this for Debra when they heard she wanted one. It's called a Silhouette. It cuts designs you create on your computer so you can make stencils and many other crafty things. Debra LOVES it and has already worn out her first cutting mat.

Annabel got some gifts from these same supporters. Lots of homemade goodies!

The stencil to make this robot shirt was cut by the Silhouette. Of course she helped make a matching one for her baby brother.

"Mommy I want to make the baby boy a monster shirt before bed."

Every morning Annabel requires 4 choices for each article of clothing she will wear.

And every night she sleeps surrounded by friends.

We went BACK to Duluth for a conference. Here's us at the creek I grew up playing in.

Throwing "big, big, BIG" rocks into the water is a favorite pasttime

on the way home we found a pile of leaves. She was hooked.

I called it "Palindrome Day" and I've been looking forward to it for a LONG time. Did you know I'm sometimes borderline OCD about symmetry?

Remember the bird family cider pressing? 400 gallons of fresh apple cider in a morning? This is the guy who invites me: Nate. The birds are good friends.

First snow. We build a snow man with sculpted abs. Then Annabel played BY HERSELF in the back yard for almost an hour. Here she is clearing off her slide.

BACK to Duluth for Thanksgiving. We'll probably NOT make for Christmas due to the impending baby.

Dad giving the blessing. Count on Dad's blessings being at least 10 seconds per person in the room.

Grandma Harkness dancing with Annabel. Me: "Annabel, can I dance with you guys?" Annabel: "NO!! Sorry. This is mine and Grandma's special thing!"

"Nini" (Grandma Satre) with Annabel at our church's Scandinavian extravaganza. I ate a LOT of pickled herring.

This is Annabel's namesake: Grandma Annabel Satre. A humble woman of tremendous faith.

God told me to go on this retreat with Scot and Kristina. I'm still not sure why, but we had a good time.

I promise not to crack a Mr. Tumnus joke. If been the brunt of them too many times.

Okay, CHECK IT OUT!!! Is this not incredible? A purple teddy bear 2-piece windbreaker a la 1986. Annabel BEGGED me to get it for her at the thrift store. What's a daddy to do?

Bringing us to today: a cookie-making party with aunties Charlotte and Tara.

Little Eli was there too. I kid you not, this little guy was strumming the guitar and singing, "Rock and roll forever! Rock and roll forever!"

Auntie Charlotte: our single source of quality children's literature for our daughter. Here she is reading the (apparently) terrifying story of the "Haunted Hamburger."

That's it for now folks. You can expect another one of these once the little guy is born. If Debra is not in labor by Tuesday, she'll have to get a Cesarian. Either way, you'll be hearing from us soon!

Three Fruit Chokers

“The worries of this life, the deceitfulness of wealth, and the desire for other things,” according to Jesus in one of his famous analogies for the Kingdom of God. In the story, the farmer  goes out and sows the “word” (based on how the word is used elsewhere, I think that means "the message about God. The gospel.") over a field. Sometimes the word falls on bad soil and the seed dies. Other times, it grows and produces fruit. But the “seed sown among thorns” which grows and is then choked by worry, wealth, and idolatry (I think) perfectly describes me and the culture I belong to. We in the American church succumb to these three thorny dangers and abracadabra!!  “Sunday Christians.” Fruitless, lifeless, complacent, immature.

1.     The worries of this life: It’s not today that concerns me. It’s tomorrow. That obsession with controlling the uncontrollable is so endemic in our society that it almost seems normal. But it’s not normal. A psychologist friend once told me, “My favorite diagnosis is anxiety disorder, not otherwise specified.” We all feel that anxiety. It nibbles at the corner of our brains and threatens to consume us. I once met a beautiful woman of God who after a lifetime of trusting God in ministry became in her final years a shell of her former self who knew only how to express love through worry. If there was nothing to worry about, she was able to manufacture some new anxiety. It taught me that innocuous little life habits like worry have the power to trump and override every other part of our personhood in time. It begins to define us until our identity is inseparable with our anxious thoughts. I imagine Satan is like the Joker from “Dark Knight”, possessing the toxic power to play on people’s fear and exaggerate it to a debilitating degree. Yikes! Maybe Jesus meant what he said when he told people not to worry about tomorrow, since it had “enough worries of its own.” Now, I’m not saying throw away our calendars… but maybe we could start making our plans in pencil with a James 4:15-style acknowledgment of God’s sovereignty.

2.     The deceitfulness of wealth… good thing I’m exempt. After all only the superrich succumb to the allure of cash, right? Truth is, my money talks to me. Little Ben, James, and George keep jabbering about collecting “just enough” cash to build a “cushion”, have a reliable car, a comfortable house outside the “bad neighborhoods.” I imagine that if I can live simply but comfortably, care for my family, get a couple toys (sail boat, surfboard, kitchen aid), THEN I’ll… well something great will happen to me. Suburban zen will then rest gently upon me all my days. Sadly, reliance on the American dream (even among the poor and middle class) has a swift choking affect on our ability to rely on God or produce meaningful fruit in His Kingdom. I’m not against wealth. I just don’t personally have the faith to handle it. Those little green guys have silver tongues so I’m glad my career path isn’t a wealth-building one. If God has put you in business, please stay there. But may I recommend that you prayerfully and critically evaluate what is the best income level to live at for the life and work God has called you to and stay there even if your salary increases? I think seeing God at work among some friends in Africa who make about a buck a day taught me that there’s no financial “guarantee” as a Christian and that’s okay. I once had a friend who set a minimum cash savings cushion for herself of $3,000. When she had to dip into it, it she had a major faith crisis. I’m not sure where she got that number, but I’m pretty certain that life-long financial security is NOT a biblical promise (even if you DO “sow a seed” on TBN).

3.     The desire for other things. We desire all kinds of things other than (or more than) God. They are almost ALL good things… except when they challenge our loyalty to our creator. I cringe when I hear things like, “any God who…. ______ ….is not a God I want to follow. Well no matter WHAT God is or does, I imagine following Him is still a good idea, since He’s the supreme cosmic power and holds the keys to every person’s destiny. Thankfully, we’re told that He is good, so we’re not being asked to bow down to some cosmic trickster or sadist. But we’re pretty darn quick to assume that behavior X would make him nasty and vindictive. Don’t you think it’s a little silly for me to presume that after 28 years, I’ve gained the moral high ground over God? Isn’t it more likely that I have holes in my understanding? I’d rather assume THAT for starters.

An acquaintance of mine is 35, in Christian ministry, and desperately wants a family. Recently she started dating a non-Christian, sleeping with him, and just got pregnant. She jettisoned her PRIOR beliefs about romantic relationships, and as a result has isolated herself from her community and ministry. She may or may not jettison her faith altogether. I assume she felt she had a choice: Jesus who sometimes seems distant or a boyfriend who will love her and perhaps provide a family. I shudder to think what will happen if he fails to meet her need for love and belonging… 

I’m not trying to promote a certain sexual ethic but simply want to make the point that emotional need is a shaky foundation for a relationship because the relationship hinges on that persons ability to meet your need. I’m also saying we give these significant others a LOT of power to influence our allegiance to God simply because they’re offering something we crave. I know. I’ve been and am there. Even in marriage, I continually have to ask, “do I expect Debra to fulfill need X? Is that a fair thing to ask of her?”

Story 2: another friend for personal reasons is trying to be celibate. All his single friends are getting married and he is lonely. Very lonely. He yearns for someone to love and affirm him. So he followed an invitation recently to receive that love from someone he didn’t really know or even like. He was offered the chance to feel attractive, wanted, loved and he took it along with the tremendous shame and remorse that followed.

My primary reaction to these “choking seeds”? Profound empathy. Everything in me screams, “Go! Get your needs met by any means necessary. God wants you to be happy, so do what you have to do!” Problem is, I stink at attaining personal happiness. The harder I try the more it eludes me. And EVEN if I convinced myself that I’m happy (or happier than I was), so what? How much will I sacrifice for happiness? For what alternative will I walk away from the invitation to be loved and adopted by a heavenly Father, to seek and find my life’s greatest purpose, to firmly hold on to hope for an eternal sense of belonging?

Another buddy in the corporate world just emailed me: “On my way to work I had this thought that really left its mark... It really is impossible to follow God as he demands and simultaneously have any concern for the measures of this world. I know it sounds like a "duh" statement but I feel like its easy to say, hear, and outwardly agree with that statement but to live it is an entirely different animal.”

I'm really not out to pass judgement on other people’s motives. As I said yesterday, the more I hear people’s back stories the more empathy and compassion I have for their behavior, even if that behavior remains inexcusable or downright harmful. But I write like this to help me internalize the truth I see in scripture. I desperately want to live a life that counts. I want to be fruitful in this world but I feel the death-grip of thorns around my throat. Every day, I’m asked to compromise something I believe in and I’m concerned that the net effect will be complacency. So I’m struggling against the worries of this life, the deceitfulness of wealth, and the desire for other things. The best thing I’ve come up with so far is this: I need to be comfortable with discomfort. I need to cozy up to the rock in my stomach because courage, growth, and life are less about conjuring the Zen to be fearless and more about walking wide-eyed into situations and choices that scare me because I believe (have faith) that there’s something better on the other side of that fear.

The Kingdom of God is Like…. The mafia.

The central locus of the Christian faith, the very heart of the matter is in a set of relationships that we’re invited into. Like politics or the mob, it’s not about WHAT you know but WHO you know. Jesus is all like, “I’m in the Father, He’s in me, so if you you’re in me, He’s in you.” He’s all like, “Phillip, don’t you KNOW me?" It started with an "eternity past" self-sustaining triune love relationship. Then people come along and we get invited to the party, to love feast. Before some book of rules floated down from the sky, the first human was in the habit of taking walks with God. Very cool. 

So in my opinion, salvation is more about relationship to the Truth (Jesus, both the cosmic and incarnate “logos”) than it is about the exegetical purity of your creed. (btw- Kierkegaard, Bonhoeffer, and C.S. Lewis helped me out there.) Actually, I think God’s going to laugh at some of our ridiculous theology. Oh he'll judge us alright. But not by the bullet points of our creed.

So… ya know how it feels when you sit down with someone and see past all the nonsense (work, pedigree, image) to the real person beneath, the inner 10-year-old? I wish we could do that with everybody we meet. It wouldn’t excuse their beliefs and behaviors, but it sure would shed some light on the brokenness that informs their thoughts and decisions. I’ve been recently offended by people who come off as passive-aggressive, arrogant, and judgmental. But the more I know about their back stories, their families of origin, the more compassion I have. Their behavior is still unacceptable and I believe they should be in counseling. But THEY are acceptable. That’s the difference. Here I am, lumping people into groups and condemning them when every single person is totally unique.

The cool thing is, God sees the heart of every individual. He has compassion on them in all their brokenness. He invites them into His family, but doesn’t tolerate immature and insecure behavior. I wish I were more like that, seeing past the outer orbit to the core of the human heart.

The end of the story (I’m reading John 14 again, btw) is Jesus really wants everyone to join his Dad’s commune. He’s going up to heaven to put fresh sheets on our beds so that “you also may be where I am.” He’s inviting us all upstairs for the ultimate slumber party. Everything else flows out of that relational proximity, that closeness to the Truth.

My favorite hang out time in community is in the morning over a cup of coffee. So I make a habit of spending my mornings in community with Jesus, not saying a lot, just enjoying His companionship. That’s what I’m doing right now. Just sidling up close to Jesus: my housemate, my mob boss, my friend.

"Occupy Ancient Israel" with Ezekiel the Hipster

I am a white, American, educated, young, healthy, straight, married, middle-class, Christian male. I am the envy of the world, the cream of the crop, the top 1% of the global caste system. I have good intentions and hope to have an influence for good in the world. But the responsibility of the influence I already have by virtue of being born is overwhelming. I turn on the TV, drive through downtown, travel the world and I’m absolutely overwhelmed with the need I see. “Surly,” I say, “I wasn’t made to feel this level of obligation or guilt!” So I’m driven to a cloistered suburban existence to escape the desperation surrounding me. I’ve perfected those weathered “isn’t-that-sad” and “what-can-you-do” looks.

I like the attitude of Jesus toward the poor: unthreatened yet unfazed. He could seamlessly navigate the social spectrum. Ironically, he didn’t have a “messiah complex” toward the poor. But he did have a knack for bringing the marginalized into the foreground. I find that radical tension compelling, but I’m unable to do it. I’m alternately consumed with guilt or apathy.

But while obligation can be toxic, I’ve been transfixed by the prophetic admonitions of Ezekiel in the Old Testament about the poor, widows, and aliens (not the green kind). I’m afraid we might be repeating history here.

“There is a conspiracy of [Israel’s] princes within her like a roaring lion tearing its prey; they devour people, take treasures and precious things and make many widows within her… The people of the land practice extortion and commit robbery; they oppress the poor and needy and mistreat the alien, denying them justice. I looked for a man among them who would build up the wall and stand before me in the gap on behalf of the land so I would not have to destroy it, but I found none.” (Ez. 25-30)

Do I do that? Do I mistreat the marginalized and extort the poor? Not consciously, no. But in my lifestyle, I give a passive nod to a status quo that encourages dishonest gains and wealth building on the backs of the poor and desperate. I have heard several lines to redirect guilt in my own head and on the lips of others:

*The urban poor lack work ethic and therefore become leeches on the system. Why give them jobs and education opportunities since their deficiencies are culturally hardwired and they are bound to disappoint?

*If an immigrant comes here illegally why should he enjoy the same wages, benefits, and equality as legal citizens? That’s the natural consequence of his illegal behavior.

*5 families crowded into one house? Well they’re not American, so that’s “normal” to them.

*I’M not a slave-owner, loan-shark, or sweatshop manager! These are the sad realities of life so what am I supposed to do? I’m just trying to get along and raise my family, make an honest living, or _______ (insert what you’re “trying to do” here).

In this ONE area, I deeply appreciate the Occupy movement. They’re not afraid to stand up in all their powerlessness and say, “we’re not okay with corruption, injustice, or abusive capitalism.” They’re willing to stand up to those who cheated their way to the top and demand equity.  I respect that, and for that reason alone, I’d willingly camp out at the capital. (Oh wait… I forgot. They’re just jealous hipsters, hoping some wall street brokers will come along and write them into their wills.)

Seriously though, the finger pointing back at us is this: If you can drive your own car to an Occupy protest, you are NOT the 99%. Globally, you are the 1%.  If you have 3 square organic meals daily and a yurt to shelter you at night and an herbalist to cure what ails you, then YOU my friend, ARE “The Man.”  This is the great irony and hypocrisy of middle-class social activism in America.

But I’ve found that even if my generation is broadly hypocritical, we are also hardwired by advertising and pluralism with the most finely-tuned bullshit radars in the world. We know when we’re being fed a line and get pretty pissed about it.

I wish the church had beat the hipsters to the punch. I wish the churches in this country would stand at the front lines against extortion rather than excuse or ignore it for the sake of the tithing members sitting in the pews.

I’m still not sure what I’m supposed to do. Even as I type, I’m wearing a great “well-isn’t-that-just-life” look. But fully aware of my own hypocrisy, I’ll still stand up alongside Ezekiel and other Old Testament prophets to demand justice, seek solidarity with the marginalized, love the poor, and pray for the world. Anyways, it’s a start.