#019 - Marred - pt.1

OCTOBER 2016

“Marred”

Impair the appearance of; disfigure.

Today was a good day, and I know that this statement may be a vague way to start. 

The past few weeks have been filled with God-planned encounters with differing versions of Christianity. I asked God and was thankful for his placement of enthusiastic Christians in my life. This morning, my transit shuttle was driven by an enthusiastic evangelical man named Ray. It was a cherry on top of an incredibly frustrating weekend on tour with the current artists I support. 

I like to think that Christian bands should be on top of the current trends in Christianity. I also consider them on the battlefront of the aggregate opinions of the whole religion. It is a constant battle with hypocritical Christians (no surprise there) and showy Christians who are looking to make money off of ministry. I reckon I can include myself, for I have been both hypocritical and showy at some point. And I’ve also made a lot of money off Christian ministry.

The personalization paradox.

It’s a battlefront partly because everyone comes to the table with a preconceived notion of Christianity—the personalization paradox. Since Christianity is highly personal, personality conflicts become the norm as people adopt this "what’s right for me should be right for you" mentality. 

I will get back to Ray in a second because I want to devote a good amount of time to writing about the wisdom he instilled in me today. I was so gracious for his service that I tipped him double and had no money left for my second driver, who may have been equally as deserving. That is how much I valued his conversation. However, not all my encounters with my elders have been this way.

The aggressive octogenarian.

This is another story about a run-in with a stubborn old man, for the young look at the old with such disdain. I respect my elders, but I even call my father out when he is stubborn. See also. Convictions. This story has to do with my favorite pastime, which is lighting.

When I worked for a rather large wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing Baptist church, this old man didn’t like the charismatic way that I worshiped and loathed my lighting style even more. He would come up to me multiple times and ridicule me for how many times I put the lights on the crowd. But he would always try and approach me during worship, too, which I would attribute to the devil’s special way of disturbing the presence of God in the moment. No one else dared to approach me, but somehow, this octogenarian was so proud of his opinion that he felt it necessary to interrupt the moment and comment live. Always by commenting on my "dancing." Lighting guys famously get into the music.

I had never experienced this kind of rebellion, especially from the elderly, and being a proud craftsman of light, I couldn't help but take offense. He was a stubborn old man who was constantly approaching me, and he began jabbing at my conscience. I was left wondering where this anger came from. I cannot ignore people who directly confront me, even while working. I have to know if they require help. It’s a surprisingly terrible character flaw.

I tried ignoring him, but this gentleman was insatiable. Then I laughed it off as a joke, but after about the fifth or sixth time, I became curious about his situation. Then I had a thought. One I never acted on. What if I could make him happy without sacrificing my artistic integrity? Such a humble thought, right?

Pride in your work and yourself are two different things. 

This man was a perfect example of the personalization paradox, and here was my 20-something solution: offer to take him to another church. I felt that no one deserved to be that unhappy on a Sunday. 

I figured it wasn’t about the lights in his eyes but about his personal utility or usefulness. That old man could have very well been my grandfather Preach. I shudder to think what he might say if he were still alive. I think that if God were at the center, and salvation through Jesus were the cause, he would support that cause to the death, perhaps occasionally questioning the method but seeing the result as satisfactory. 

This is what this man could not grasp. It was too much to him, so I thought I could offer him that other-churchly ride. There are churches out there that cater to his particular needs and convictions, and by the way- they are desperate for attendees.

It’s about the reach, not the reached.  

I promised I’d get back to Ray. He was a car salesman in his younger days. He told me he got fired from his first job because he was suffering from being the son of a large car dealership owner. His dad employed him out of nepotism, and Ray assumed he was bulletproof. 

One day, they went out to lunch, and pointing to a glass of water, his father asked Ray,

“Is there a hole in that water?”

Perplexed as to why his dad was asking such a childish question and still being prideful in his position, he answered no.

“Put your finger in that glass of water.”

After Ray obliged, his father asked the question again.

“Is there a hole in the water?”

Ray, now slightly annoyed at the simplicity of such a line of questioning, answered yes this time. His father asked him to remove his finger from the glass and offered an explanation.

“You see how quickly that water fills the hole once occupied by your finger?”

Ray nervously answered yes.

“That is how quickly someone is going to fill your position. Pack your box; I hired someone to replace you.”

Ray then told me that a good salesman should always have a good sturdy box on standby due to the frequency of this particular event. Life of a salesman. I would make a joke about a Bible salesman, but you can fill in the blanks. The old saying expect the worst comes to mind. Oh, and it happens that Ray was also a Bible salesman. He started selling Bibles when his father let him go from the dealership.

If you are effective in influence, the loss of your input into an environment should be missed and not quite filled as quickly as Ray’s example.

Past Experiences

Ray was marred by losing his first job, but he saw it as a turning point. Using the motivation his father provided, he eventually became a self-made man. He told me countless stories of his travels as a bible salesman. I couldn’t help but relate. 

When I travel, I become a spokesperson for Jesus and the unifying force of God. I see good people everywhere, but confused and angry. They are drawn into the chaos and spit out on the other side, craving God and finding nothing. I feel this falls on the weight of past mistakes and since mar and its forms are the themes of this particular writing- the weight a marred past.

Breaking from Ray, my chiropractor is a genius. He was shaped by three generations of influence and really has an eye for the craft of shaping the body into its correct position. He can see things out of alignment and mold them into true form. 

The last time I saw him, he told me I was clenching my jaw and prescribed an acupuncture treatment. As he disinfected key areas of my body and got his sterilized needles ready, he told me the root cause of clenching the jaw or grinding the teeth: The affected people are physically chewing over tough decisions. As he was applying the needles to ancient pressure points to untangle my chi or something to that extent, he gave me some advice, perhaps to calm my nerves- to make the process easier on him.  

He told me it was best to take your past mistakes and use them as lessons for your future. It was simple, kitschy wisdom, but it was true. If your past left scars, use the scars as a reminder not of the actual events but of the lessons learned from those events. 

I once got burned by a 1000-watt light. I have two scars on my left arm to remind me that those lights are not only blazing hot oven temperatures but also a reminder of the wonders of LED technology. I could say that the current state of the church is the 1000-watt incandescent parcan, when all people want is the coolness of an LED. This will be the only lighting analogy, I promise.

Our scars are merely a representation of a life lived.