High Fidelity Hoarding

Do you remember the hunt? Scouring the racks at the record store for "the next big thing," tilting your head sideways to read the spine of the CD cover, as you flip, flip, flipped through albums already owned? Now I know, I just lost a lot of street cred by mentioning CDs instead of LPs, but the beloved format of choice for all serious audiophiles was simply not part of my music collecting days. You searched for an artist just different enough that preferably your friends hadn't heard of or didn't have access to in their hometown record store. You could then present your new purchase like a rare artifact from an exciting adventure abroad. My collection started with a small stack of CDs by the boombox in my room. The first CD I ever owned was 10,000 Maniacs' "Our Time in Eden." It was such a disappointment. I thought the fact that I really enjoyed a song or two meant that the album was bound to be a terrific listen. It was a lesson we all had to learn. Most of us had to learn it over and over again. However, the opposite scenario often erased any memories of poor purchases, when you found that album that would live in your CD Player, playing over and over. You felt like you had a secret when your favorite song was "#8" on the disc, and not the lead single. The deep cuts that contained the sweet, extra-long solo not made for commercial radio, or lyrics that didn't translate to top 40 justified the $12-$15 spent. Often lost in that new album eurphoria, my collection quickly grew. I had to move my collection into an expandable rack because the stacks were growing too high. Then, came the large rack that looked more like furniture. Lastly, after getting married, because my wife didn't share my desire to display my collection, the CDs found a home in multiple trunks in our house. And there they sat. Simultaneously, the number of mp3 files I kept on my computer grew. But with 9-10,000 songs on my computer, the game had completely changed. I now only buy a couple of full albums a year and I more often will buy random tunes I've heard somewhere on the internet. This is no small thing, I devoted countless hours, days, in some ways of looking at it, even years to collecting, arranging and hoarding music. Now, my collection feels more like a closet full of clothes and nothing to wear. Sometimes I will put iTunes on shuffle to see what surprises come up and it usually feels more like wearing those jam shorts I wore in elementary school, uncomfortable and out of style. It has left me with this lingering question. Why do we collect? Our collections usually mean nothing to anyone other than ourselves and we rarely spend time revisiting our collection. I'm going to throw out a ridiculous question. Is it even a sin to hoard this much of one thing? Is it greed? That might be a little over-the-top, but the idea has been bouncing around in my head a bit lately. I've spent so much time holding on to things that don't matter to anyone but myself and even I have lost interest.

Boldness

It's often said that politics and religion are not to be discussed at the dinner table..along with any comments about the unsavory state of the mashed potatoes. We've heard that these things are best left at the doorstep. While this still allows many meaningful topics to be discussed in casual conversation, there is also the implied assumption that only simple, surface level, "how is the weather?" type banter is commonly welcomed. The gospel according to Ms. Manners has created a culture where each of us is often afraid to dive any deeper than an inquiry about sports teams, children, or storm fronts. Granted, upon introduction, I'm not suggesting we ask "Dan" about his recent colonoscopy or try to engage in a debate about the rapture, but this rule of safety in communication has left us paralyzed in some of our most precious relationships. I'm less concerned with politics, because my opinion is rarely represented by any one party, and frankly, I often don't care enough to spin my wheels about some new change in policy. But, when was the last time you asked some of your best friends, or moreover, your family members about the state of their spirit? "How can I pray for you?" "Would you pray for me?" or other, maybe more complex, questions about a loved one's spiritual walk are words we can barely muster the courage to utter. How do we even begin to engage in this type of conversation? I'm praying daily for boldness; a type of boldness rooted in the confidence of the Holy Spirit in my life. I'm encouraged by the words I read recently in Acts 4. When we follow Christ, the Holy Spirit will speak through us:

"Then Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit, said to them: "Rulers and elders of the people! If we are being called to account today for an act of kindness shown to a cripple and are asked how he was healed, then know this, you and all the people of Israel: It is by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified but whom God raised from the dead, that this man stands before you healed. He is " 'the stone you builders rejected, which has become the capstone. Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved." When they saw the courage of Peter and John and realized that they were unschooled, ordinary men, they were astonished and they took note that these men had been with Jesus."

This is my prayer, that others would take note that I have been with Jesus.

On a related note, for some outstanding chats about engaging in conversations with others, check out Shepherd of the Hills', a community of faith in Porter Ranch, CA, recent series called "My Faith Now." Specifically, the podcasts about Mormonism and Islam. While these are great resources for learning about other religions, they are an even better reminder on how to engage in meaningful, Christ-like, conversation.

Love, joy, peace and..

Thinking back to Sunday school and other religious gatherings from childhood, I remember at least annually seeing a mural or cutout of a tree displayed with fruits hanging from it's limbs each labeled, "love," "kindness," or some other attribute that I definitely didn't display when sharing my gameboy with my sister. As a Christian, these fruits of the spirit have become fairly familiar, and some might even be able to quickly rattle them off (probably the same people that can sing the presidents of the United States). These fruits are the visible signs of Christ living through us in our daily walk. In the bible, we find these fruits mentioned in Galatians 5:22-23. However, my wife recently pointed out to me, after discovering the fact through a bible study, that this verse has an interesting and notable difference between the NIV and King James translation. It looks like this:

Galatians 5:22-23 (New International Version)
22But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.

and the King James:

Galatians 5:22-23 (King James Version)
22But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, 23Meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.

The term that nearly leaps off the page in the King James version is: "longsuffering." In the NIV, "patience" has thankfully taken "longsuffering"'s place among the more familiar fruits. I mean, I can begin to understand patience. I can patiently wait in traffic, for that raise at work, or for the new ipod to be announced. I can even patiently wait for God to listen to my requests through prayer. However, I have a harder time identifying with: Long, patient endurance of insult, abuse or mistreatment. What is the Word of God suggesting? Am I to believe that following Christ and walking with the Spirit has a cost of suffering? I can't help but be reminded of Christ's words in Luke "Then he said to them all: "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me." It seems the cross, an instrument of torture, is something I must align myself with daily and warmly greet as an attribute of following Christ. However, it leads me to these questions. What is following Christ costing me? Through what do I suffer in the name of Christ? Should I be concerned if it costs nothing all all?