Inspired by Jeremy, I dug up an old Facebook tag. For those of you used to expecting distinguished and profound posts from me, you’ll be so disappointed… For those of you who know me, this will assure you that I am still not distinguished and profound. I intercepted a note in 5th or 6th grade [...]
Posts Tagged ‘spiritual’
The Danger of Marginalization
As a follower of Christ, I sense it all the time in conversations with others who a) are not a follower of Christ or b) are only a nominal Christian. It gets easier to detect the more contact you have with the person.
I usually notice it in the eyes. It’s a far-off look. A shift, a blink, a quick glance away. Sometimes I hear it in their voice or in their polite avoidance of topics of significance.
I’ve been marginalized.
You know what I’m talking about. It’s that feeling of being “labeled.” It can happen in any area of life for which you’re passionate. It’s how people deal with you. Heck, you do it to others. Typically, it’s how we relate with people that we may be a little uncomfortable with.
“He’s an Amway rep.” (or insert any other MLM company)
“She is a dog freak.”
“Uh-oh, here comes Mr. Granola. Don’t let him see the milk carton in your trash can.”
We label and compartmentalize people so that we can deal with them better. When we put them into a category, we marginalize them. When they’re marginalized, then their particular passion or interest has no effect on us. It’s been relegated to a file somewhere – to only be examined if we’re truly interested… later… if ever.
The problem with what we all do is that we miss out on truly relating with another person. And even if we’re not passionate about cloth diapers or homeschooling or pet adoption or the like, we can still relate and enjoy their part in the Grand Drama.
If everyone played the role I play, it would be a fantastic gig, but pretty short-lived, right? We desperately need to wide swath of colors, hues and views that other people’s passions paint on life’s canvas.
When we marginalize people, we force ourselves to see life in monotone.
Another danger in marginalization is that we may actually miss truth.
You see, when I sense that I’m being marginalized, it most often comes as a result of my joy in Jesus.
“Here comes the preacher…”
“He thinks he’s a real Christian…”
If Jeff Noble is being marginalized, that’s one thing. If the Gospel of Jesus Christ is marginalized, that’s an entirely other thing.
If you push truth to the side, if you relegate it to a mental file somewhere, if you stick it in a compartment… you essentially begin living half-life.
Even Jesus faced marginalization:
He went on to say, “This is why I told you that no one can come to me unless the Father has enabled him.”
From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him.
“You do not want to leave too, do you?” Jesus asked the Twelve.
Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.” (John 6.65-68)
That’s the danger of marginalization. If you relegate an important/truthful message to some mental or digital graveyard, your world suddenly becomes only what you make it to be. You will suddenly begin living a life and reality that only you define. If you push the magnificent to the margins, you’ll discover at some point that your life page is bland – or even worse, blank. And if you choose to live in the margins, you’ll be ignoring the content that lies between them.
The clothing of creation
I read this week in Psalm 65 about the designer line that God has unveiled on the runway of the earth:
You crown the year with your bounty;
your wagon tracks overflow with abundance.
The pastures of the wilderness overflow,
the hills gird themselves with joy,
the meadows clothe themselves with flocks,
the valleys deck themselves with grain,
they shout and sing together for joy.. (v11-13)
I meditated on the colorful and descriptive language that Poet-King David used to describe the scenes he had so often feasted upon ocularly. Phrases like “overflow with abundance… hills gird themselves with joy… meadows clothe themselves with flocks… valleys deck themselves with grain…” all speak to the magnificent excess of praise that the Father so worthily receives from Creation. Who hasn’t been overwhelmed with a scene of unspeakable natural wonder? My family had the opportunity earlier this year to view Mt. McKinley from a distance, and it was simply stunning.

To consider how God has so carefully and beautifully adorned the created world is one thing. To drink deeply of His careful consideration of our lives is another. We tend to doubt His awareness of our needs and concerns. We tend to drink too deeply of worry and anxiety’s wells.
Yet Jesus – perhaps in reflecting of the majestic truths in places like Psalm 65 – reminds us in Matthew 6:
But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. (Matthew 6.30-33)
Visions of creation’s clothing should encourage us for the Creator’s care. The valleys have nothing on us. While they are decked with grain, we are robed with salvation. If we neglect to praise Him for His love; however, Jesus hinted that the Creation will grow noisy with praise. (“I tell you,” he replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.” Luke 19.40)
Let us rejoice in the clothing of creation. Its fashion line hints at the abundant love of the Father for those who trust in Christ Jesus.
Review: The Shack (rated 4 stars)
“The love shack… it’s a little old place where we can get together…”
With refrains of that song in my head, I would have to say that love is what The Shack is about. Many have billed the short story as a modern day Pilgrim’s Progress. I don’t know how “classic” this book will become (after all, Bunyan’s work was published in 1678 and remains eminently readable and inspirational); however, I’ll confess that the story drew me in.
Jeremy and I read it on the way back from Glorieta. Well, I read it to Jeremy as he drove. We got about a quarter way into before my voice gave out. I’ve finished it since then, and he has picked up where I left off.
The book is about a husband and father who has experienced incredible pain, disillusionment and loss in his life. Author William Young does a masterful job at engaging you in his life and emotions. The story culminates as he makes his way to an abandoned shack deep in the mountains to face his past, and possibly his future.
Once there, the man has a dramatic and playful encounter with God, who appears to him in a surprising form (or should I say forms?) This is where the meat and message of the story takes place. The author essentially uses the man’s tale to creatively communicate his beliefs about God and man and their relationship with one another.
I think you’ll be surprised at just how much theology can be joyful as you read Young’s book. He does a wonderful job at bringing some deep discussions to life. I would guess that most Christians do not ever think deeply about some of the issues he has his protagonist wrestle with.
Therein lies a caution of this book as well. It reminded me a little of the Left Behind series in that it promotes some rather interesting interpretations of theology. For the most part, I wasn’t too bothered by it, but I would simply encourage the reader to compare what he’s reading with scripture.
Otherwise, I was also a little put off by how the author uses the bulk of the book to share his view about God and man. Though it’s really a good read, the larger narrative is not intertwined much in the middle of the book. It’s rather pieced together like this: narrative – spiritualized theology – narrative.
I’ll give Young credit. He has some remarkably powerful and poignant insights into the love of God. You will enjoy God and your relationship more after you see what “could be.”
Overall, it’s a compelling read if you’re prepared for the not-to-hidden agenda and personal theology of the author throughout.


Feeling sweet?
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