WWHBD: What Would Honey Badger Do?

Maybe you've seen the honey badger videos on YouTube by now. I'm always behind the curve on these things, but when 'honey badger' references started appearing on mainstream television commercials I figured I should check it out (Here's the Honey Badger video - not family friendly).

Honey badgers are seriously hardcore wild animals – about the size of a dog, they are fierce enough to fend off lions and straight up eat the heads off king cobras. Honey badgers are destructive, environment-upsetting, animals. Many would say they are fearless, but it may be more appropriate to say that they are shameless. They overthrew the natural order of the wild world – where the orthodoxy, like humanity's, is 'bigger is better.' Honey badgers are non-compliant – lions, jackals, black mambas, a thousand stinging bees…they don't give a shit! They are comfortable living in their own, very thick, skin.

Reminds me of Jesus (I'd make a better segue, but I don't give a…well you know). There is, of course, the "smile, Jesus loves you," kumbaya-singing version of Jesus that tends to be quite popular in the broader Christian worldview. But, seriously, name one time that Jesus actually tells someone that he loves them in the synoptic Gospels? (I'm waiting…) Clearly Jesus operated in love, but the sappy, romantic version is a modern revision that belies Jesus' application of it in the shameless pursuit of justice. Jesus was hardcore, fierce and environment-upsetting. In a time when honor and shame were the foundational values of society, it didn't do to stand out. People with opinions and ideas outside the collective or community orthodoxy were generally shamed into submission…

What becomes clear in the Gospels is Jesus' refusal to be shamed. His unorthodox platform was subject to continuous attacks from the leaders of orthodoxy – family, community elders, religious leaders and the political elite. They demanded their honor and sought to shame Jesus. But, he turned out to be an obstinate nonconformist – family, Pharisee, Sadducee, rich ruler…Jesus don't give a shit!

In fact, the entire metanarrative of Jesus' life appears to be an inflated challenge-riposte. Shameful birth?…Jesus is born again at the Jordan. Hometown calls him 'Mary's son'?…he walks away a prophet. Family thinks he's crazy?…they're the ones left standing outside. When the Pharisees come questioning…the peasant asks, "have you not read?" Then there is the cross. The cross strips him naked, declares him an imposter and takes the last breath from his chest…but, two thousand years later, in the hearts and minds of millions, across the continents – he lives! That's pretty bad ass.

Jesus is often described as both the 'lion and the lamb.' That's a sweet sentiment…if you favor a stuffed-animal kind of Christianity. The Jesus I read in the Gospels refuses to be held down and patted upon the head. He's no silly lion – he's a 'nasty-ass honey badger.' And I love him for it. – D. Christian Nix, 10/26/2011

Jesus…Confidential

This is what happens when coffee, coffee cake, and 30 uninterrupted minutes come together on a Tuesday morning. A strange little piece for me…this is SATIRE with a bit of a Screwtape Letters feel. Suspend reality before reading this imaginary email from across the eons…but, don't forget that 'truth' and 'true' need not be congruent.

//////////////////////

TO: 21^st Century Political Strategist

FROM: 1^st Century Political Strategist

SUBJECT: Jesus…Confidential

Just between you and me, I think Christianity has a serious problem…Jesus. I think it's time we did something about it. Maybe you haven't noticed lately, but he's become a real thorn in the side of our faith (aka "politics"). We've tried re-branding, re-messaging, and de-leveraging, but he's just not on board…not a team player. I only see one way forward – we're going to have to cut him loose. I know it sounds extreme, but I did some digging around and got some juicy tidbits from a couple of his biographers – turns out he's got a few skeletons in his closet…you shouldn't have any trouble putting a nice smear campaign together. Here are your talking points:

1. You know all that stuff about Jesus being born in Bethlehem? Bogus. Born in Nazareth – he's a Nazarene! Too easy, I know. More than that, though – guess who was born out of wedlock? His mom's a common whore and his "father," well, no one really knows who his father is. Just another welfare baby from the ghetto – try curtailing that beached whale of a program with him at the helm.
   
2. Turns out he's a real liability for our anti-immigration policy efforts as well. We knew he lived in Egypt for a bit as a child – did you know he immigrated there illegally? No papers. His family said they were seeking asylum from threats on their lives…his mother was probably just escaping the stoning she deserved back home.
   
3. Oh, and he's Jewish! Only thing better would be if it turned out he was black (or Muslim)…we still got some guys working on this one – I'll keep you posted.
   
4. As far as economic policy goes, our suspicions have been confirmed. We have it on record from two businessmen that he challenged them to give their fortunes away…said he believed in economic equality and they should, too. F***ing socialist pig! One guy, a tax collector, actually did it, but what else would you expect from somebody who supports the tax system. The other guy, a rich landowner in Galilee was distraught to find out this was central to Jesus' message – by the way, he said he's willing to finance this venture (felt terrorized by Jesus and wants him out!) Going forward, make sure that the words "Jesus" and "Socialist" become synonymous…never waver from that message, it's his ultimate Achilles heel – "Jesus is a Socialist."
   
5. This shouldn't be a hard sell since everyone is aware of Jesus' liberal tendencies. I still can't get over all the healing he did in Galilee last year; if we don't distance ourselves from him people are going to think we support universal healthcare. Just remind people that the dirty lepers love Jesus, but we support a stringent purification policy. Also, word is he told a crowd of close supporters recently that they should "love their enemies," and has actually been quoted saying, "if you live by the sword, you'll die by the sword." Make sure people know about this as well – pacifism is well associated with weakness, impotence and pot-smoking draft dodgers.
   

We've supported Jesus for a long time. We took John's word that he was the 'chosen one.' But, according to John's camp, even he has serious doubts about that now. You can see the evidence for removing him above – he's a Jewish immigrant bastard with socialist-pacifist tendencies. If he were gay he'd be basically the worst person ever (now that I think about it, isn't it strange that he's still single…).

So, spread the (new and improved) gospel! With Jesus out of the way, we'll be able to get this nation (and the world) back to its historical Christian moorings!

• D. Christian Nix, 8/30/2011

True Blood: Mennonites in Georgia

As I closed the laptop on the conference room table, I suddenly became aware of my surroundings. Mazes of machinery and the ambient scream of industry were commonplace, but this table was all wrong. It was a long, country-style family dining table, but the paint job was too slick – no brush strokes. No one was around, so I took a look underneath…I hit my head when I came back up, exclaiming to myself, "IKEA!?" Then I saw the Keurig – it had made my third cup of coffee only a few minutes before. I quickly developed my first hypothesis about the Mennonites I was examining that day – scrawling on the back of my work notes, I wrote, "Mennonites were once Amish, but their inability to make handcrafted furniture drove them to evolve, adapt technology, and move to more forward thinking environs…like Middle Georgia." Self-amusement is vital for those who travel to these parts routinely….there is so little to laugh about here.

It was the most interesting day I'd had in some time. One of the great perks of my job is getting a behind the scenes look at all manner of industries. I get to see 'how the sausage is made' (well, I haven't actually seen sausage made, but I have seen how hot dogs and chicken nuggets come to be…it's not pretty). After a while, though, it all starts to become a bit rote. Yet, my visit to a new agribusiness near Montezuma was eye-opening. The business concept was progressive, green and, frankly, stupid simple (the best ideas often are). But, I was most impressed by the Mennonite men and women who operate the company and live in the community.

Based on the owner, let's call him Jakob, they are a smart, well-spoken and humble people. Ingenious enough to create a capital machine, but empathetic enough to use their gains to support their community. It was a stark contrast to the innumerable small town businesses I have visited – where the owner drives a new Benz and the employees, earning non-living wages, just hope they can afford the gas to get to work. Here I saw a team of equals who treated each other with respect and spoke with an uncommon kindness. This was clearly a community ethos as well.

While "enjoying" a plate of sauerkraut and sausage at Yoder's Dietsch Haus (when in Rome, right?) I was taken aback by the cordiality of the locals. Well beyond pleasantries, they were all amazingly aware of each other's lives – sharing good news and offering words of support. The service was good too – my glass of tea 'runneth over.'

The day before I arrived, a community disaster had occurred. A local farmer's corn silo had collapsed. Luckily no one was hurt, but the farmer's livelihood was at stake. On the way back to the facility, we drove by to take a look. At least a dozen local men with their loaders and tractors were there diligently cleaning up the mess, salvaging the corn, and restoring their neighbor, even while their own farms and businesses demanded their attention. I imagine they all knew something we jaded, metro, post-Christian modern intellectuals have forgotten (or never knew)…they KNEW their neighbor would do the same for them.

Back at the plant I engaged Jakob in conversation. I complimented him on his business and suggested it would be very profitable. A conflicted look crossed his face – the look of one who is simultaneously both happy and wary. His response was equally conflicted – "I guess that's what we're supposed to do." There are no self-made people…I think Jakob knew this. He knew he was the product of a family, a community and a vital part of its fabric. This business wasn't his pathway to riches; it was a source of community empowerment. The entire business was locally focused – its success and sustainability would mean the same for local farmers and families.

I don't want to over idealize the Mennonite community. Their social construct is limited – women have strained liberties, formal education is not valued, and their tight-knit community has the potential to create an insider/outsider paradigm. Their theology ranges from uber-conservative to less-uber-conservative. But, there is much we can learn from them – they take Jesus' 'neighbor love' thing seriously, they respect creation in sincere and redemptive ways, and they are peaceable, friendly and honest.

In the poorest county in Georgia, they are rich in many ways. – D. Christian Nix, 8/16/2011

/////////////////////

Georgia Magazine published a nice article on Georgia's Mennonite community: http://georgiamagazine.com/archives_view.asp?mon=6&yr=2004&ID=974

And, if you are bored at work, you can "zone out" at this website: http://shoutmennonitenames.com/

Road Trip

For Steve and Yudan. Happy Anniversary! – From my travel log, "Long drives are made in short time with good friends."

///////////////////////

While watching Carolina dispose of Florida in the College World Series tonight, I was reminded of where I was approximately one year ago – sitting in a bar in Austin, Texas watching Carolina dispose of some other team in the College World Series. This time last year I was helping my friend Steve move from Atlanta to San Diego. It was a once in a lifetime road trip – a week with my friend driving from shining city to shining city. We took the standard Atlanta – New Orleans – Austin – Tucson – San Diego route…those in the know might notice that we made a couple diversions from the most direct path – just don't tell our wives. I made a few notes along the way…here are a few excerpts with updated commentary:

Monday, June 28, 2010: "New Orleans is the armpit of the South. It was a dirty, defiled city before Katrina – it is a dirtier, defiled city after." People have some false imagination about this town – maybe it had a heyday, but it hasn't been in the last four or five decades. My best memory of the town was the time I had lunch with Bart Ehrman – he was way at the other end of the table, but we were both having lunch…it counts.

As I recall, Steve and I took a cab to Bourbon Street…it was raining…we both agreed Savannah was a hell of a lot nicer town. We visited the Gumbo Shop for dinner – I attempted to pay with my BP Visa, but Steve suggested that might not go down too well given the whole oil-spill thing going on at the time. We took pictures at St. Michael's, ate beignets at Café Du Monde, and then closed down a small Irish bar (okay, I'm exaggerating…we had two beers, watched the Braves game, and went back to the Marriott by 10p).

Tuesday, June 29, 2010: "By way of contrast, Austin is one of the truly fine towns." After driving across the Bayou and through Houston (the town that never ends), Austin was a welcome site. We walked around the University of Texas campus…found an open door at Texas Memorial Stadium and roamed around the UT athletic offices a bit – very cool.

After having dinner at Stubbs BBQ we headed out to Sixth Street and settled in at "The Library" (picture above) to watch the College World Series. That is where we met "John" – the stereotypical college male. The one-way conversation went something like this:

"Dude…you're from Atlanta! I love Atlanta, man!…lot of hot chicks there, man!…Dude, I gotta get liquored up tonight, man! [I awarded him bonus points for including both 'dude' and 'man' in the same sentence] I have got to get laid tonight, man!"

I said, "Okay, man." He then engaged me in some sort of male fist bumping ritual and disappeared into the smoky darkness of the bar. I thought about my wife and kids – glad to be a happily married man just taking in a ballgame at the bar.

Wednesday, June 30, 2010: "Everything IS bigger in Texas. Driving through the vast, open and mountainous Big Bend area of West Texas, I've never felt so small." Passing through El Paso was a great joy after enduring 400 miles of near wilderness in West Texas. I counted three Starbucks – we hadn't seen three trees in the last eight hours – but, I wondered who in the world would want to drink hot coffee there. El Paso was a harsh looking town, but as we drew close to the Rio Grande, and close enough to see Juarez, Mexico, it began to seem brilliant by comparison. The contrast from one side of the river to the other was devastatingly bleak. The cinder-block 'homes' spotting the hillside were a reminder that poverty has no limits to its descent. It only takes one look to realize why so many risk so much to enter and live illegally in the United States. "Immigration reform is needed, but more than that, social transformation is needed – how can U.S. citizens assist Mexican citizens in making their land a place where they experience a reasonable quality of life?"

After 16 hours of near non-stop driving we arrived in Tucson, AZ. There I experienced what they mean by a 'dry heat.' We found a Boston Market…unfortunately they were out of chicken! So, we walked around the University of Arizona campus and searched for food…we ate and then slept – it's amazing how much energy a drive that long takes out of you. We woke up at 5 AM, by 5:30 it was hot enough to fry an egg on the street…100+ degrees!!! We left town quickly…California dreaming.

Thursday, July 1, 2010: "Ascended to over 4000 feet before coasting downward into San Diego today. We exited the truck into the most glorious 70 degree weather. I barely broke a sweat while we unloaded all of Steve and Yudan's earthly possessions into their new apartment. It felt like a Saturday afternoon in Fall – I kept wondering when the football game would kick-off." San Diego is a beautiful town. Though, the landscape is a bit too brown for me…I'm so used to grass and pine trees. We went to an authentic Chinese restaurant for dinner, Yudan ordered for us – in Chinese, no menu needed. I'd lose a lot of weight if I ate with them regularly – I'm handicapped when it comes to chopsticks, like eating with my right hand tied behind my back.

The next morning we visited La Jolla, then off to the airport…missed the flight (I told you we wouldn't make it in time, Steve!). A blessing in disguise, as we got to spend a few more hours checking out SD.

Friday, July 2, 2010 (on the red-eye!): "Not sure when I'll see Steve again. We've been great friends since the first week of our freshman year at Georgia Tech. The four-day, 2300 mile journey from Atlanta to San Diego only served to make it painfully obvious how far away he is now. There will be no more spontaneous lunches at Boston Market at Druid Hills. No more pre-game meals and pints shared at Gordon Biersch or the Vortex. No more visits to one another's homes – at least not with any regularity. I wish I had made more time for those things when he was so close. I know he and Yudan will do well in California – their new home. Yet, Atlanta will be a great deal more lonely without them." – D. Christian Nix, 6/29/11

Mine’s Bigger than Yours

I'm not sure when it began, but I've developed a habit of saying stupid things out loud. Some have been more regrettable than others. In high school I recall being slapped after noting to a young lady that she was "like an elephant, she remembered everything." The filter between the squeaky wheels in my brain and my mouth is highly unreliable at times – ask my wife.

A brief contemporary history may suffice to prove my point. In a recent meeting with colleagues at work, while negotiating the most mundane project details, my mouth struck again. I said something to the effect of, "let me extend a fig leaf here and propose…" After I finished the sentence, a voice from across the table said, "Damon, if you could keep your fig leaf in place we'd appreciate it…but, I'll take an olive branch if that's what you mean." Not long after, while discussing a business regulation with a client in south Georgia, I described the issue as a "show me yours and I'll show you mine kind of situation" – based on his discomforted body language, I believe he thought I was attempting to proposition him.

My most memorable gaffe occurred during a New Testament course at seminary. After breaking into small groups to work on an assignment, I noticed a fellow student had an edition of the Bible exactly like mine – except smaller and in paperback. Without thinking – as is my custom – I thumped my copy of the sacred scriptures on the table, looked him in the eyes and said, "Mine's bigger than yours!" I think we both blushed a bit – I still laugh hysterically every time I think about it (providing further explanation for my absence from ministerial service).

Certainly, I don't constantly walk around saying dumb things. But in situations where I'm comfortable with my surroundings I have a tendency to let me be me. This doesn't always result in a story I have to live down. On occasion (albeit rare) I've been able to share something that was helpful to another, even if I didn't realize it at the time.

There are those who never say anything seemingly ignorant or crass or untoward – guarding every single word with great care. But, I wonder if the risk of never saying any stupid is never having the opportunity to say anything truly meaningful either?

Jesus said a lot of things that must have sounded insane to those around him. He was constantly going around saying things like, 'your sins are forgiven,' 'you are healed,' and 'the kingdom is near' – things that often seemed to piss people off for one reason or another. He told all these crazy parables that no one seemed to quite understand – then or now. And he even had the audacity to say that we should 'love our enemies.' Yet it is precisely the counter-cultural and unorthodox sayings of Jesus that have made his message so significant for two millennia (no matter how much we Christians have mangled it). Jesus took the risk of saying things that made him a bit unpopular – his death by crucifixion attests to that. But it is precisely those words, spoken by the one John called The Word (1:1), that have meant so much to so many for so long.

Surely there is no analogy between my blabbering and Jesus' timeless message. But, I'm hopeful that by being open enough to say the ridiculous at times, I'll one day be able to risk sharing even a hard truth when it matters most. – D. Christian Nix, 6/23/11

Commuters Do It Five Times a Week: Why there are no Christians on I-85.

As a veteran of the northern exurb to downtown Atlanta commute I have had ample opportunity to embrace the deepest darkest places of my soul. There's nothing like a good traffic jam to elicit white-knuckled rage from the calmest, quietest soul. If you are a celebrant of Festivus (obscure Seinfeld reference), commuting in metro Atlanta will provide you with a voluminous list of grievances – inexplicable traffic jams, that guy who 'cuts you off,' the GA 400 commuters (usually driving a Lexus, Porsche or Mini – jealous much?) who believe it is their god-given right to immediately merge left across six lanes once they enter I-85, erratic out-of-towners staring at 'them tall shiny things,' and those degenerates who do the speed limit in the left lane.

I am a card-carrying introvert (INFJ/P), but I have 'enjoyed' the splendid cathartic powers of commuting to explore my shadow sides. I have found myself shouting and banging my steering wheel – "WHY AREN'T WE MOVING – AAAAHHHH!!" I have said things to other people (who couldn't hear me), including little old ladies, that you wouldn't say to your worst enemy. I have invented new expletives, combining the best of four-letter favorites into novel compound nouns. There is no telling what kind of maniacal fool I have looked like, faced pressed against the glass, slobbering and cursing at the sky or my nearest fellow commuter.

I'm certain there are two probable explanations for such inane behavior. Possibly, commuting is the apocalyptic machinery devolving humanity into a sub-species of zombies who will soon inhabit all major metropolitan areas. OR, slightly more likely, sometimes we just aren't very nice people, and acute stressors have the ability to bring out "Mr. Nasty" (obscure You've Got Mail reference).

The infamous theologian Calvin got one thing right, we're all depraved – some more than others. There's a nasty side to all of us – it's a reality of the human condition. Not even Jesus was immune from an occasional bout with "Mr. Nasty." In Mark 7:24ff we find Jesus seeking a place of respite near Tyre – "He entered a house and did not want anyone to know it." Apparently Jesus needed a little 'downtime' – his ministry was intense, and I imagine there were plenty of times that the last thing he wanted to do was give another piece of himself away…even to the 'least of these.' Alas, his peace was interrupted by the "Syrophoenician woman" of Sunday School fame. In short, she needed help and Jesus blew her off – even insinuating that 'her kind' were 'dogs.' After a bit of reproof from this awesome lady, he consents, but with what seems a half-hearted effort (something like, "yeah, yeah, you're daughter is healed, whatever…go away now"). Few passages have received more over-apologetic interpretative tactics to release Jesus from any impropriety. But, these are the kind of narrative moments that endear me to the Jesus of Nazareth – he's real, he's able to instruct his disciples about defilement coming from the heart in one breath, exhale that defiled state in the next, and then move on, committed to growing from that moment for the better (see the before and after in Mark 7). I'll pause to recognize that my Jesus may be less orthodox than yours…

Recently, while alerting a colleague that I would be late for a meeting due to traffic (it took me 3.5 hours to achieve what should have been a 1.5 hour drive), she said something to the effect of, "no problem, at least you aren't the poor person in the accident." In the midst of the 'jam' my response was lukewarm and cynical, expressing little concern for those with real problems. She was exactly right and I was dead wrong. But, I'm glad she said what she did – it hasn't left my mind as I've continued my daily grind. My "Mr. Nasty" moments are an opportunity for growth – reminding me to operate with grace, even while operating my car. So, next time you cut me off on I-85, I'll try to wave…with all five fingers. Happy commuting! – D. Christian Nix, 5/10/2011

//////////////

"As the Scriptures say, 'No one is righteous—not even one.'" – Romans 3:10 (NLT)

"So what if you can see the darkest side of me…Help me believe it's not the real me…Somebody help me tame this animal I have become…" – Animal I Have Become, Three Days Grace.

He is not here…

I remember my one and only Easter as a full-time student pastor far too vividly. It may be the only 'do-over' in egg hunt history. It was a beautiful day, but the sun was quickly blotted out by an untimely false start at the third through fifth grade egg field. There was an apparent miscommunication – I blame other people – and a handful of kids were somehow allowed to start hunting before the masses had made it to the starting gate from their hot dog lunch.

Oh, it was an ugly, ugly scene – tables were overturned, tears were flowing, blood was shed…or was it just ketchup? Maybe I'm exaggerating a bit, but it wasn't my proudest moment. Adults had to recover eggs from children with overburdened baskets, order had to be restored, angry parents assuaged and eggs re-distributed across the asphalt parking lot – it was more a mad chase scenario than a hunt, I guess. The irony was thick, instead of a 'triumphal entry' I had created an 'angry mob.' I'm certain I heard chants of 'crucify him, crucify him' pointed in my direction. I had leveraged an event that involves a competition driven by greed – enhanced with monstrous prize eggs – to celebrate the selfless life and death of Jesus. In the midst of the hunt I had forgotten what it was we were supposed to be searching for.

The 'hunt' for Jesus began early in his ministry. He was constantly surrounded by crowds, many following him from town to town. When he took a boat across the sea, the crowds met him on the other side. Certainly they were enamored by his message…and his miracles. Like children at Easter, many were probably hoping to find a prize egg.

After a long day of caring for the sick and afflicted in Capernaum, Mark reveals that Jesus sought a quiet place of solace the next morning (Mark 1:35ff). After his disciples finally find him, in what must have been an exhaustive search, they chide Jesus for his absence – "everyone is looking for you!" Jesus calmly responds that it's time to move on. Jesus appears to have had little interest in being the hunted. His driving motivation was not to be the center of attention, but rather to bring attention to the needs of communities, and to challenge the social, political and religious boundaries that diminished (and continue to diminish) the lives of so many.

Eventually the 'hunt' for Jesus takes a decidedly disastrous turn. The crowds that praised him vanish – apparently all the 'prize eggs' had been found. They are replaced by moneychangers, rich young rulers and religious authorities hell bent on his destruction.

Few stood by the cross as he died, and only three, two Mary's and a Salome, visited his tomb. In the end, the hunt for Jesus comes up empty. As the angel tells them, "He is not here…" (Mark 16:6). The message brought fear and trembling, and maybe the anger that only true mourners could hold for their beloved – "Where are you?! Don't you know that everyone is looking for you!"
Yet, Jesus' posthumous call to his followers in Mark's Gospel was simple… 'it's time to move on.' Begin again. Challenge the authorities again. Put the rich young rulers in their place again. Heal the sick again. Comfort the afflicted again. Seek justice again. Be willing to die for it…again.

I've spent the better part of three decades trying to wrestle Jesus from his hiding place – "Damn it, Jesus! Don't you see the trouble in our world…do something! Don't you know that everyone is looking for you!" I think I've become just deaf enough to the Christian cacophony to finally hear Jesus calmly whispering, "Damon…it's time to move on. Why are you still standing by my tomb? Don't you see – it's the world that needs to be resurrected, not me."

"He has risen…he is not here" – those words are not a comfort, they are a challenge…and they leave me trembling. – D. Christian Nix, 4/22/2011

Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Sally

I recently returned home from a workshop in Charlotte, NC. I spent three days rehearsing my freshman year in college so I can (hopefully) pass a professional certification exam in the near future. We covered material I had hoped to never see again from chemistry, physics, and economics…things like "PV=NRT" and "F=MA" (If you know what those letters mean, I feel your pain).

While doing a basic mathematics refresher I was reminded of a phrase I hadn't heard since middle school – "Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Sally." As most of you know, it's a mnemonic device designed to help you remember the order of operations when solving math problems – Parentheses, Exponents, Multiply, Divide, Add, and Subtract. It's critical that you follow that order or you'll end up with the wrong answer. Thinking back, I always felt like subtraction got the short end of the deal (and I realize thinking about things like that makes me a bit strange). Why was it always last? As if it was the least important part of the process.

In life, subtraction can be a painful thing. Yet, growing up requires a great deal of subtraction – progress always requires a bit of 'letting go.' Moving from school to work we reduce a great deal of our previous leisure. Then, if we become parents we let go of the rest of our leisure! We eliminate, or at least attempt to eliminate, vices, habits and attitudes as we mature. Relationships are ended for various reasons – some good, some bad. And, saddest of all, we experience the subtraction of loved ones from our lives in the passing of time. All these subtractions have a great impact on who we are and who we become.

So, too, with the 'Christian' life and the life of religion and faith in general. By the time we're adults our theology is an amazingly complex mass of refined, yet often conflicting, beliefs. Often these beliefs become fixed as we seek some sense of certainty in our less than certain lives. But, what about that subtraction bit? Is there any room for subtraction in our personal belief systems? After building such a fine calculation of faith, what could we – what would we – possibly let go?

Jesus was the master of subtraction. He was always subtracting burdensome and unnecessary rules as detailed in his many encounters with the Pharisees. From the sick and outcast he subtracted the social stigma that bound them to the lowest places in society. And he even subtracted undeserved honor and status from the rulers and elite who often came with their 'brilliant' questions. Jesus established a mission of subtraction – removing pain and injustice wherever he went.

I think much of this occurred because of Jesus' willingness to subtract from the orthodoxy and religious and cultural norms of the day. This stands out to me particularly in Matthew 5 in Jesus' repeated refrain, "You have heard that is was said…but I tell you…" How did Jesus arrive at such different conclusions about life and faith than so many of his contemporaries, including John the Baptist? I've often wondered if it was the outgrowth of a great subtraction from his own life – the death of a loved one, a personal experience of injustice or simply the incongruence of a 'certain' faith amidst clearly uncertain times.

Regardless, Jesus seems to have set about the process of 'subtraction' as an adult. He unraveled the calculations he'd been given – undoing the additions, multiplying what had been divided and dividing what had been multiplied, inverting the exponentials and finally, and most graciously, removing the parentheses of exclusion. Life was no longer a problem to be solved, but a community of people, places, cultures and beliefs that had value and worth in and of themselves.

I've been about a journey of subtraction myself the last few years. I believe far less than I did before…yet, I also believe so much more. Constants have been replaced with variables, and I'm growing more comfortable with leaving them unsolved. – D. Christian Nix, 4/6/2011

Beer, Baptists and Belief

I recognize the volatility this blog may have for some of my numerous [sarcasm] readers. I pause to apologize to those who will express disappointment. Yet, the following is an outgrowth of my own personal walk in faith. In no way do I wish to diminish the reality that alcohol has participated in many personal struggles and tragedies. The purpose is not to glorify the use of alcohol, but to recognize its appropriate place in the life of the individual believer and non-believer alike.

////////////////////////////

Some of my fondest memories have involved the sharing of a drink. Whether tailgating with friends from college, toasting my best friend at his wedding, or sharing a beer with my brother at the end of Pier Street after grandma passed away, a libation has enhanced many of the moments in my life – transforming them from 'time spent' to 'timeless.' I certainly have a trail of forgettable moments with alcohol as well, but such is life – I also have a trail of forgettable moments with dressing myself, talking out loud, and sending emails.

Not too long ago, on a Saturday afternoon following Thanksgiving, I sat with my best friend Steve at the Gordon Biersch restaurant in Midtown Atlanta. We were enjoying the seasonal winter brew, watching college football and sharing the same old stories we love to hear and love to tell. Somewhere in the midst of my second mug our food arrived. As was our custom we said a prayer before we ate. Not long after an older woman approached our table – "I was watching you from over there, and I just want you both to know how touched and encouraged I was to see you pray over your meal in the middle of this crowded restaurant." For a boy who grew up in a small northeast Georgia railroad town, the idea of having a 'God moment' while simultaneously enjoying a beer seemed like a paradox. Yet, that relatively innocuous event was a watershed moment for me – I recognized a certain earned confidence in my own faith journey (and lord knows I've got the scars to prove it) to make, and live in peace with, lifestyle choices that might be 'controversial' to others. I wish the same for other believers and non-believers alike…

Jesus modeled unorthodox, but confident, decision-making like none other. He seemed especially fond of thumbing his nose at religious purity laws and Sabbath regulations.

In fact, in the canonical vision of Jesus' life, the first great miracle he participated in was to subvert the use of ritual washing pots to 'flash ferment' an excessive amount of wine for a small wedding party (John 2). How could Jesus – the ultimate killjoy(?) – have participated in the drunken revelry that was the wedding celebration of antiquity? It seems Jesus may have had a different view on alcohol than the conservative voice of Christianity today.

Where I live in Georgia, alcohol is a hot topic these days – specifically, whether or not wine and beer should be sold on Sundays. While the dangers of alcohol abuse are evident, the prohibition of alcohol sales on Sunday has little to do with those issues. I'd gladly support legislation that limited late-night alcohol sales (nothing good happens after midnight, right?) or increased penalties for drunk drivers, etc. But, a demand that all citizens submit to a conservative Christian religious construct (that has no grounding in the life of Jesus or the New Testament) is a cultural artifact whose time has passed.

One of the great principles of historic Baptist faith (of which I partake) is the 'doctrine of soul competency.' Every individual's religious convictions are an extremely personal matter – one bound up in their own journey with the Divine. For those who feel strongly about Sabbath alcohol restrictions, it would seem a much more sincere approach to freely choose not to purchase alcohol on Sundays – as a matter of personal conviction, not state legislation.

I certainly don't believe the Sunday sale of alcohol is a big enough cross to die on – there are far greater issues to attend to. So, I implore believers to consider the question Jesus asked of his mother at the wedding feast – "what does this have to do with us?" (John 2:4, NASB) – D. Christian Nix, 2/16/11

/////////////////////////////

"Let beer be for those who are perishing, wine for those who are in anguish! Let them drink and forget their poverty and remember their misery no more." – Proverbs 31:6-7 (NIV)

Tiger Moms and Prodigal Sons

My best friend, a Chinese-Canadian-American (yes!), recently sent me a Wall Street Journal article by Amy Chua, author of the just published book "Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother." The email was in jest, but reading the article, entitled "Why Chinese Mothers are Superior," got me thinking about my own parentage and parenting.

Chua's argument is that 'the' Chinese method of parenting, which, in my interpretation of Chua's description, entails complete domination of the will, intentions and actions of the child, produces exceedingly better outcomes than Western parenting styles. In many aspects I agree. Western parents in the post-spanking era (thankfully) have much to learn from Dr. Chua's pragmatic approach, particularly in relation to establishing limits and expectations (though, her exact methods are more like prohibition and demand). The ingrained discipline, overwhelming emphasis on academic success and constant push towards overall excellence has led to the (often true) stereotype of superior Chinese-American students.

But, it is precisely the context of 'Chinese-American' that I think is important. This method of parenting, which is supposedly superior to the innumerable Western styles of parenting, finds its apex precisely in Western culture. I think what Chua, a law professor at Yale (of course!), is actually describing is less a function of culture and ethnicity and more a method of class distinction. Chua and many other Chinese-American parents have discovered how to succeed in Western culture – intense discipline, academic rigor and a rejection of failure are indeed the same hallmarks of many socio-economic elite 'Westerners' as well.

The broader issue at hand might rather be whether or not Western-style success in matters of wealth and prestige are the ultimate measures for our children. The reality (and the ultimate counter-argument) is that all children in China are born to 'Tiger Moms,' but poverty, inequality, injustice, and failure are as rampant there as in the United States and other Westernized nations...and more so. Are these mothers, who love their children as desperately as Dr. Chua, failures? Are their children failures? I think not. Might there be another measure for success that eschews ties to culture, ethnicity, economics, etc.?

////////////

Bruce Springsteen's "Growin' Up" is easily in my top-ten list of favorite songs. I have a live version on my iPod that was recorded a few months before I was born in 1978. Within the song there is a three or four minute monologue where Bruce tells his story of 'growin' up.' A master musician, he recalls his parents' (who were in attendance) incessant pleas to "turn down that goddam guitar!" In his narrative he shares that his father wanted him to be a lawyer and that his mother had hoped he would become an author so that he could 'get a little something for himself.' Springsteen eloquently replies, "But what they didn't understand was that I wanted everything…one of you wanted a lawyer and one you wanted an author, but tonight 'yous' are both gonna have to settle for rock n' roll." As the full ensemble kicks in – guitars ringing, horns blaring – no one in that audience, and no one with ears to hear would ever imagine that they were settling for anything. Bruce concludes in verse, "when they said 'sit down,' I stood up!" Neither Bruce's rejection of his parents' desires, nor their inability to mold him into the person they hoped he would be, led to failure. As his deeply personal address suggests, irrespective of achieving pop icon status, he had succeeded in life (in his own unique way) because he knew he was loved. I imagine the "everything" that Springsteen wanted was more than worldly success – it was wholeness as a person.

Likewise, many know Jesus' story of the 'Prodigal Son' in Luke 15. The dastardly younger son demands an inheritance from his not yet deceased father then proceeds to squander it through 'wild living.' Impoverished, malnourished and humiliated he returns to his home hoping to simply be treated as a servant. He had failed as a son. He had failed his family by dishonoring his father, he had failed morally by living in disrepute and he had failed economically by wasting vast resources with no return. But, and this is the crucial juncture in the story, he did not fail to be loved:

"But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him…the father said to his servants, 'Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let's have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' So they began to celebrate." (Luke 15:20-24, NIV)

 

The lost son was found…and more so, the lost son in that moment likely found himself. His identity was not the manifestation of his successes and failures in life, but rather his grounding as a person who was loved without condition.

 

Dr. Chua and her husband love their daughters passionately. My wife and I love our children passionately. Whether or not our parenting methods drive them to achieve greatness in a Westernized world rife with disparities and abuses – often practiced upon the masses by those 'great ones' – is of little significance. What is paramount is that they know love, so that whatever they 'become' will be imbued with the same – regardless of whether they share our cultural values, theology or politics. This world is full of unhappy doctors and lawyers who made their parents 'proud.' What this world desperately needs is loving neighbors…my prayer is that we raise a couple.

– D. Christian Nix, 1/29/11