Because here’s the deal, does I’ll Fly Away make any sense when it’s
sung by rich people of power and privilege? I mean, what the heck are
you flyig away from? Life in suburbia? The Caramel Macchiatos at
Starbucks? The vacations at the beach? The fact that you have clean
water, indoor plumbing, central heating/air, and two cars? … So of
course when the privileged sing the song it sounds theologically
shallow. The privileged shouldn’t be trying to fly away. They should
be worrying about the injustices at the gate.
…
In sum, I’m back to the realization that Christianity sounds
different—theology, hymnody, and the bible itself—when heard from
the margins of society. What doesn’t make sense at the centers of
power, prosperity and privilege often make a while lot of sense on the
periphery.
It’s all very superficial and annoying. Awards, however, are often
designed to be slightly controversial and draw attention. Otherwise,
nobody would write about them. It’s part of the game. So, a few
editors decide on stupid nominees, bad winners, and weird anomalies,
typically over lunch. Decades ago, I was in such a meeting and one of
the managers rigged a specific award because he was getting laid by
the “winning” company’s PR representative. Whatever works.
He may not be your kind of guy, but just watch this video of him playing
up there without all the assistance and he will definitely show you what
it’s like.
What happens when people have the “illusion of privacy”? Naturally,
they feel more comfortable in sharing information, uploading photos
and videos online, etc. Once they feel more comfortable about doing
so, they do it more often. This, obviously, is the intention of
Facebook, and many other corporations.
Instead of having a doxological orientation (how does this bring
glory to God) or a christological orientation (what does this say
about Jesus, King and Lord) or a theocentric orientation (how does
this all reveal God), we too often judge whether something is good by
asking selfish pragmatics: How does this help me?!
It was easier before, when the path was wide and straight.
But, truth be told, I was faking it. I was pretending that things that
didn’t make sense made sense, that things that didn’t feel right felt
right. To others, I appeared confident and in control, but faith felt
as far away as a friend who has grown distant and cold.
Now every day is a risk … but the view is better, and, for the first
time in a long time, I am fully engaged in my faith.
When asked which command was the greatest, Jesus said:
‘You
shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all
your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first
commandment.
I take this to mean that God does not want us to check our brains in at
the door. He demands our whole mind. That includes the part that asks
questions, the part that thinks rationally. He wants our whole heart.
That includes the part that hurts when people suffer and cries when he
realizes he was part of the problem. We must ask the hard questions, use
the brains he gave us to make sense of this world, and use the talents
he gave us to change the parts of the world that make no sense.