Too liberal for the conservatives, and too conservative for the liberals

There are lots of ideological stances that divide us, particularly when it comes to theology - whether or not one believes that Christ is the only way to God, whether or not one believes that the Bible is the inerrant Word of God, whether or not one believes x, y, z....you get the idea.

I've always been fascinated by the fact that in our conference, one's perspective on the homosexuality "issue" automatically lands you in one of two camps: the "liberal" camp or the "conservative" one. I think you can figure out which is which. Rarely (with few exceptions) does anything else factor into this strange sorting process. (Interestingly enough, the Institute of Religion and Democracy paints with a similar brush...if I can find the article, I'll post it here).

Part of the problem here is the labeling of people into categories based on individuals believing "this" vs. "that". Such a dualistic way of thinking I find to be inherently dangerous (as it grants humans too much power to decide who is "in" and "out"). But another part of the problem here is that...some people just don't fit.

I, for one, don't. It's not just that I'm not liberal or conservative, or that I have some "conservative beliefs" and some "liberal" ones all mixed together. I'm not even sure I'm in the middle, really. It's more that these categories don't make sense at all when applied to me, or to some others that I know. I feel as if I'm outside of the current system all together.

When it comes right down to it, though, why can't we all just call each other brothers and sisters in Christ? Why can't we all see each other as God's children - just the same as everyone else? If we have to go around defining people, why can't this definition trump them all? In the end, "liberal" and "conservative" - or even "moderate" won't make an ounce of difference. How faithfully we lived out the gospel message, however, will. And really, isn't that all that matters?

Snowy Silence

There's something sacred about the way snow falls, and I can't quite place my finger on it.

Perhaps it's the profound sense of silence that accompanies each falling flake (no matter what noise there is in the background).

Perhaps it's how a pristine blanket of white transforms an otherwise dull and barren landscape into a winter wonderland (at the risk of sounding cliché).

Perhaps it's the almost spontaneous feeling of joy the sight of snow arouses in me (particularly when there's someone nearby to throw a snowball at - playfully, of course!).

Perhaps it's the way snow seems to bring out the kid in all of us (but just the fun parts).

Perhaps it's none of the above and should be chalked up to one of those mysteries inherent when encountering the Divine and should remain unexplained (which I am perfectly comfortable with).

I know a lot of people detest snow...and a lot of people have never truly experienced it. Snow to some people means shoveling and hard labor, an increased potential for roadway accidents, drab and boring scenery for four months, and so on and so forth. I, on the other hand, am immensely captivated by snow.

One of the strongest images I hold on to from my childhood is of the snow falling above my window. Whenever it snowed at night, my parents would turn on the spotlight over the deck and our backyard. My room, being on the first floor, had a perfect view of the light illuminating the falling snow and on those evenings as I drifted off to sleep I watched the snow dance down to the ground - sometimes lazily and sometimes in a chaotic frenzy subject to the whims of the fierce wind. Those nights were some of my favorites (not just due to the prospect of a snow day); the snow swirled about in intricate patterns that never repeated and I found myself fascinated by the ever-changing motifs: perpetual variations on a snowy eve.

This is one of the biggest things I miss about my old room at home (a note to my sister: you better be enjoying the view!). During those evenings watching the snow fall while I was warm in my bed, I was thankful that I had a safe and secure place from which to watch the magic happen. In those moments, I really appreciated a lot of things...warmth, a house, a loving family, life in general...and God.

I guess snow just reminds me of God's presence: the deep silence and the joy that it brings. The beauty of watching it fall. The whole package, really.

Now if adults just had more snow days, we'd all be set!

PS - I took that photo earlier this evening...taking pictures of snow is hard!