I love reading. When I was young I would read Babysitter club books with a passion. Now by passion, I mean I would get so wrapped up in the complex storyline of adolescents banding together to watch neighborhood children that I would sneak the books into the shower to continue my reading. I would stand in the back of the tub to avoid ruining the treasure but the reality is that it would get a little more than moist. (Don’t act grossed out I was 10, and let’s be honest, no one likes to take a shower at 10).
Now that I am older, my interest in hygiene has not totally overpowered my passion for reading. I wish that I could pretend that I like to read deep and profound books, especially since I graduated for seminary and that’s what seminary graduates are supposed to do, but I still love fluff. Chick Lit is probably the best genre ever created. For example, a spring afternoon sitting outside with a non-fat iced mocha and a page-turner like the something from the Shopaholic series is hard to beat. I can devour a book like that in two days without breaking a mental sweat. They are just that good; even if I do get a little stressed out that the heroine is spending too much money. Better her than me!
While Chick Lit is what I prefer to read while relaxing, every once and a while someone will loan me a “Christian” book with such a glorious recommendation that I simply cannot pass it up. I will finish whatever fluff I am reading (Marian Keyes, anyone?) and tentatively dive into the realm of the virtually unknown. More often than not I find myself once again captivated by the written word and challenge to follow Jesus just a little bit closer. This phenomenon has happened three times in the past several months.
The first was with Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell. While reading it I was dared to question the status quo of my culture and my convictions as questioning leads to growth. I started to wonder how I as an individual and we as the church decide what priorities for living are. Am I too concerned about appearing to have it all together?
Then I was blasted by the simple, yet stark, honesty of Shane Claiborne in Irresistible Revolution. I marveled at how something as simple as loving one’s neighbor daily can seem so radical in contrast to what we as a church decide to focus our efforts on instead. Would I be willing to step out of my comfort zone and love my enemies? How do I change the injustices that I see around me? Do I simply write letters to those in power or would I actually be willing to go to
Most recently, as in Sunday, I picked up Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller. Once again I am resonating with his candid struggles of loving God’s people inside and outside the church. Would I be willing to set up a confessional booth and ask for forgiveness of my sins? Am I willing to live in dirty, messy, even confrontational (I am one of the most non-confrontational people at least in
Now the real challenge is to actually put my musings into practice. It is great to read these books and feel that I am not alone in my questions yet nothing changes unless I act. Will I love as Jesus loved? Will we? How should I/we love in tangible ways? Hmm, maybe I should just check if my library has Shopaholic and Baby…
2 comments:
You're a great writer! I felt like I just read the beginning of a story. What's next Ms. Justus?
We heard Shane Claiborne speak at the Youth Specialties Convention. Why is it that what he does seems so radically revolutionary? Why is it scary and distant; nice, but "not for me"? Why is actually doing what Jesus did (with or without the bracelet reminder) so revolutionary? I remember one thing he said several times during the sessions, "What if Jesus actually meant this stuff?" --- If He did mean it, and we actually followed it, what would the world look like?
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