Me and the Grown Male

I've observed an interesting phenomenon about myself, as you do when you indulge in the vice of naval gazing.

That phenomenon is rather simple. The phenomenon is this. The phenomenon is that when I speak, people listen, especially older men, and that when I speak, I inspire a feeling. This feeling seems to be one of anger, insecurity, or fear.

I honestly don't know what they're so scared of to be honest.

Look at me, I have a mustache. I am easily killed: I don't own a gun and I have terrible motor skills. I take medication for depression and anxiety and I am on the autism spectrum. I think about killing myself twice a month. I am slightly overweight. I have to wear glasses to see lest I don't see. I am poor.

And yet.

And yet.

I have gift/curse. When I speak, people listen. Never mind the fact that it never occurs to me that people take me seriously because of the above, no. I am not a successful male accord to new or old world standards. I have not fornicated with a variety of women, I don't have a brood serving me hand and foot, I don't make a six figure income, and I am too hairy to be understanding of today's virtue signaling.

And yet here I am.

I suppose I should write of some examples.

Here's one. When I spoke to a (Presbyterian!) minister of catechesis to encourage "spiritual" growth, I am mocked for using a big word, a big word that is part of our tradition. Heck, it's part of every major Christian tradition.

Or, when I am asked if I think everybody should agree with me, I answer "Of course". I'd like to think I am honest. Everybody wants them to agree with them. If a person agrees with you, they love and accept you right? Well, no, but this is the life we life.

But more than that, if I think I'm right, wouldn't I want another person to be right too?

Now to be fair, I ended up walking away enraged because I was running on vomit instead of sleep, but still. It would be nice if these older men I talk to had more self awareness.

Not that I have much either, to be honest.

More recently I voiced my disagreement during a meeting. The older man asked me afterwards that I should have not spoken up because my disagreement was too nuanced and that the people there might take me seriously.

God forbid.

I spoke about this to my wife.

I have a deep voice and I speak confidently. She tells me that when I speak, it doesn't sound like an opinion, it sounds like a fact. I told her that when everybody speaks, they think it's a fact even though it's an opinion. She agreed with me, but she also advised me that people don't understand that when I speak, I (hopefully for the most part) invite conflict and refutation, according to the rules of the game, whatever those rules may be.

But other people don't want conflict. They want to be affirmed and told they are right.

So it confuses me when a grown man seeks this from somebody as weak as me. I am a nothing, in the larger scheme of things. I would hope God continually reminds me of this. Even writing this makes me feel I'm humble bragging.

And these grown men? They are always successful. They have kids, they have money, they usually have a loving wife, and they have a job. Why are they threatened by me? What power do I hold?

Of course I'm not innocent in all this. I agree that tone is such that it sounds disrespectful.

Maybe I need to start treating grown men like human beings and like people who are hurting, like I do everybody else.

Maybe grown men need Jesus too.

If that's the case, it is a comedy that grown men, men who I see as pillars of society, are just as weak as I am.

Or maybe I think too highly of myself and I'm just a disrespectful jerk that needs a good smacking.

Who knows.

Pressing the wrong buttons,

-SJG

P.S.

I hope to write something more positive in the future. Even I get tired of tearing down.

I saw God at a rock concert

You know, if this were a Relevant magazine article, I'd say that God is at work through all things. If this were Christianity Today, I'd say grace perfects nature.

Alas.

I enjoy listening to rock. Though, enjoy is not a word strong enough to convey the dedication I have for the genre. If one were to look for my Spotify, one would notice a large number of music that requires a guitar. There is something (something) in me that smiles when I hear Bill Joel "It's all rock n' roll to me" or Dire Straits' soft guitar leads on "Sultan of Swing".

How happy I was when I heard one of my favorite bands was coming to town.

Mogwai is one of my favorite instrumental bands. Their songs names are rather silly (I'm Jim Morrison and I'm Dead, Autorock, Glasgow Mega-Snake) but they have a way of making the heavy sound beautiful.

Therefore.

My wife and I went to see them live in concert. I saved money and we went into the middle of Downtown Miami. They had just released their latest album at the time and I was a big fan of it.

I walked in and felt self conscious, as always. People were smoking cigarettes and the guys had pants on that would leave me with no oxygen. Still, I didn't come to make friends. I came to say a rock band that I liked.

Then they got on the stage.

I was so happy. It was probably one of the happiest times in my life that didn't require alcohol. They had a smoke machine and lasers, it was was all rather cheesy. Yet they played songs that I knew. They played the riffs that I had memorized long ago. When they went into the first drop of Fear Satan I screamed my lungs into oblivion.

And I saw God.

At least that's what my body told me.

Fast forward a few years later and I'm married. I am looking for a new church and I encounter Christians of different stripes. They are not different because there are all sorts of Christians in Kansas City, they are different because they disagree with me. More than that, they're different because they're not from Miami. At least in Miami, I had the pretense of a common cultural experience. I don't have that luxury in the Midwest.

Now.

Something I've noticed is that Christians seek God. A no brainer, one would say. But track with me. Christians seek God the same way a wine taster seeks new wine, a coffee drinker seeks a better ground, a man seeks a prettier woman to validate his existence.

I suppose what I am trying to say, is, that, Christians, do not like mediocrity. If I had to compare it to something else, Christians are trying to have better sex with God.

Yes yes, I know, #NotAllChristians, but it's about me right now.

But yes I suppose it's not Christians, it's humans. They're always trying to find something new to keep them going. Something new to spark the mind. Something new to say that "they were there". Boredom is verboten. 

Why talk about sex? Well, why not? The Bible uses the marriage analogy to describe how God relates to His people. I might as well talk about sex. Specifically, orgasms. People seek better orgasms. They get close to the edge, back off, and arrive at destination.

Christians want better orgasms. They do this by committing themselves to a pastor's vision, to proclaiming that they are bringing God's kingdom, by praying for revival, by wanting to love on more and more people, by praying harder, by reading their Bible more, by getting involved in politics, by attaching themselves to the latest trend (we are not long purpose driven, but missional), I mean, I can go on.

But the problem is, I experienced this better orgasm at a rock concert.

Most humans experience better orgasms at a rock concert.

And really when a Christian tries to experience a better orgasm within a "spiritual" sphere, they fail. They fail because gravity will always win. Those Christians that don't fail, succeed, but they become insufferable to be around. They hate being around me because I am such a downer, and I hate them because I wish they'd see my humanity and tell me my pain is real.

It doesn't stop Christians, of course.

I don't know how many Christians I've met trying to get closer to God when they don't realize that God has communed with us in His Son. They find bread, wine, water, and sound boring though they are what give life. What feeds us, feeds us. But I suppose a revival is more exciting than an old man wearing a suit.

But as for me and my house? I see God every Sunday when His words are spoken by broken men. I see God when I commune with Him through the bread and the wine. I see God when I am reminded of the water that washes my dirt away as the blood washes my sin away.

My body might not feel like it's taken to the third heaven every Sunday, but at least I know my God is with me.

Marantha,

-SJG