by Lindsey Kay

“I am a man with no country,” he said.  “My Muslim brothers hate me because I have grown Western, but the West hates me because my brothers are Muslim.”

This one man is not alone in his plight.  Across the United States, millions of Muslims find themselves walking the tightrope between embracing their faith and culture, and facing the rejection or even hatred of the American public. One should never discuss the fallout of 9/11 without paying homage to the Muslim Americans who often, wrongly, bear the brunt of our fears.

Another man angrily reminds me that “New York Remembers, New York will never forget.”  One might assume what he means is that no one in Manhattan could ever erase from their memories the horror of that day. Who could forget the towers falling? Who could forget the ash that didn’t settle for weeks? Who could forget the myriad of people who wandered the streets, looking at the faces of hobos and wondering if a member of their family was lying amnesiac on a street corner, praying that they were merely broken, and not forever lost?  Of course New York remembers ─ but what that man meant was not that they remember the tragedy, but that they remember who is to blame:  Islam.

Both men live their lives with respect and honor.  Both have a good job, take care of those around them, give charitably and keep their noses clean. Both shop at Walmart and Sam’s Club, both drive used cars, and both recycle. They both read literary fiction and dream of an evening that they can just kick up their feet on the porch and watch the neighborhood walk by, but their busy lives pursuing the American dream seem to always get in the way of relaxation. One flies the American flag from his window, the other has it as his computer’s wallpaper. Both read political magazines and try to keep up on current issues. Both research who they will vote for in the primaries as well as national elections. They write to their State Representatives and Senators.  Both, as a matter of fact, usually vote Republican.

One should not enter into a discussion of the so-called “Ground Zero Mosque” without respect for both of the men who typify what the issue is about:  First the American Muslim, and then the American whose principal knowledge of Islam is the horror of 9/11. The issue at hand here isn’t the legality or justice of a Mosque existing near Ground Zero, it is about the fear that many Americans feel when they sense Islam encroaching into their lives. The question isn’t if Muslims should be allowed to worship in lower Manhattan, it is if allowing Muslims to set their tent stakes in our cities means that we are inviting terror into our back yards.

People have painted the Imam behind the development of the mosque near Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan as a radical extremist who embraces Shariah law and would subjugate any American with whom he came into contact. Hypothetical situations have been set forth as fact, such as that the Muslims involved in the project are hoping to be martyred so as to bolster hatred between Islam and the West.  Some have gone as far as to say that Imam Faisal is working for the devil, parading the name of peace, while plotting for destruction.  Bible verses are quoted as a justification for that fear, making a chilling inference that these are the end times and Imam Faisal is tantamount to the antichrist. The truth is that one could not hope to have a logical discussion about justice and legality, while all interpretations of the issue are brushed in colors of fear and mistrust.

If the discussion was only about the rightness of having Muslims worship so close to Ground Zero, than long ago people would have taken up arms to prevent the Mosques that are already in operation in the same neighborhood.  If the discussion was truly about the Muslims in question denouncing terror, than the multitude of quotes from Imam Faisal and the other architects of the development would serve as evidence enough for fears to be quieted. If the real argument was how the 9/11 families feel, than the fact that many of them have come out to support the building would be more widely reported.  If the issue was in actuality how New Yorkers feel, then the fact that the vast majority of them affirm the Cordoba Project’s constitutional right to build ought to be enough. Yet the discomfort and opposition persist, despite mounting evidence that the issue shouldn’t be up for discussion.

A quick review of the time line: Manhattan based Soho Properties bought the land in question after it went for sale in 2009.  The Cordoba Initiative, along with other developers, purchased a portion of the block with plans to establish a mosque as well as a community center.  According to people involved in the project, a larger space for a mosque was necessary due to the rapidly growing amount of people attending services downtown, and established mosques simply not having adequate facilities to meet the Muslim community’s need. Services started being offered at 45 Park Place while plans for the community center at 51 Park Place moved forward. In early 2010, the developers took the plans for the center to a community board to be approved, and they won by a vote of 29 to 1. That was in May.  June passed with little note, and then July came. Searching through article archives and using Google’s alchemy functions, one can see evidence that in mid July the Cordoba Project’s plans gained sudden national media attention with the existing mosque’s expansion and plans to build a community center two city blocks away from Ground Zero, as the building of a “Ground Zero Mega Mosque.”  Suddenly Park 51, a community center “promoting tolerance and understanding through three types of programs: arts and culture, education, and recreation,” became rephrased as a tool of Muslim encroachment, with new descriptions like “creeping Jihad,” “wolves in sheep’s clothing,” “breeding ground for terrorism,” and “aggression masquerading as peace” attached to it.

To see the extent to which the issue has been mischaracterized, you need look no further than the metaphorical language used to describe people’s feelings. When asked why it is wrong for there to be a mosque two blocks from Ground Zero, one man responded that it was like pedophiles buying a house two blocks from a park where children play. When asked why Muslims choosing to have a memorial near Ground Zero was wrong, another responded, “Even a dog knows the difference between being tripped over and being kicked.” Other evocative turns of phrase are used like “spitting in the face of American’s pain,” “kicking us when we are down,” “trying to provoke us,” “using Freedom of Religion and zoning laws to mock an American tragedy,” and my personal favorite, “taunting the American Public.”

All such language shares two common attributes: The first is that it paints the American public as a helpless victim of Islamic torment.  We are the innocent babies in the park, powerless to defend ourselves against pedophiles. We are the sleeping dog that is either being tripped over or kicked by the advancement of Muslim rights.  We are the ones who, while lying there in pain, are being alternately spat on, kicked, provoked, or having our laws used against us.  At the very best we are being taunted. Why would a proud, patriotic American choose to portray himself as a passive victim? The second common attribute is that it makes a clear line of separation ─ the often unnamed but clearly malevolent “they” are doing something awful to “us”. The implication such language makes is that the Muslims in question are not like “us,” they are not Americans nor are they patriots, nor have they been hurt by terrorism.

Imagine how offensive it must be for Muslim Americans to hear themselves portrayed in such terms. Do not for a moment assume that what happened on 9/11 is a tragedy that is solely owned by white America. The tragedy happened to us all, every race and religion, every color and kind. We are all Americans, and we were all attacked. As one Muslim neighbor said, “the only person who the terrorists hate more than white Americans is Muslim Americans.” Muslims were attacked on 9/11.  They lost their friends and family, too, as the Towers fell. Muslim Americans hit the streets to help look for people wandering lost and injured. Muslim firefighters and police risked and even lost their lives trying to help survivors from Ground Zero. It was a tragedy that all of Manhattan felt keenly. Not a soul living in that city survived unscathed. We all share in it as a nation.

If we, as Americans, have a right to memorialize that day, than Muslim Americans have that same right. If we, as Christians, have the right to build and worship in the shadow of that site, then Muslim Americans have that same right. If we feel our hearts broken by the tragedies of the past, and feel fear tearing at our lungs when we think of further acts of terror, what makes us think that we are alone in those feelings? Many Muslims have condemned acts of terror. Many have expressed fear about the future and the safety of their families. Many have stated that being able to build a community center so near Ground Zero stands as a moral victory, as it shows the terrorists that America is left undivided and will not bend its moral principals in the face of violence.

Ultimately, the question of Muslims being allowed to build near Ground Zero is not a question of that which is right, what is legal, or who needs justice. It is a question of who we are as Americans, and whether or not we will give up some of the principles of what it means to be American because of nothing more than xenophobia. America was founded on high ideals. We are a nation of freedoms.  We are to be a safe harbor in the storm, a place where all immigrants can lay their weary heads and seek the hope of a brighter future. If Americans allow ourselves to be ruled by fear, we lose something very precious: our identity as a Nation of “liberty and justice for all.”

We must never forget that who we are as Americans is not defined in terms of ‘us’ and ‘them’.  It is not defined by what God we pray to, but by what ethical standards guide us as a people. Those ethical standards are the same whether we are Christian or Muslim. They transcend all religions and come from the unfailing heart of mankind. A Christian may say that God was the architect of objective morality, a Muslim may say Allah made it so, and an atheist might say it was birthed by reason. One thing remains a constant:  we believe that greater good and inarguable rights exist, and we pursue those beliefs as a society.

The most American thing any of us can do is go to the staff of Park 51, take them a cold lemonade and an apple pie, and extend a hand of neighborly affection. My dream as both a Christian and a patriotic American is that one day, a Mosque and a Church can share a street corner in lower Manhattan, and an Imam and a Priest can share a table and smile at each other, saying, “we are not so different, you and I.”

The Bible has a lot to say about kind words turning away anger, love casting out fear, even loving those that hate us and praying for those who persecute us  (Proverbs 15, 1 John 4, Matthew 5).  The balm that we seek for the wound of Ground Zero should not be a rejection of those we fear, but a celebration of who we are when we are united as a nation. As Terry Rockefeller, a man who lost his sister on 9/11 said, “This doesn’t insult her at all. This celebrates the city she loved living in. It is what makes America what we are.”  And as Imam Faisal Abdul Rauf said at a Ted Talk he gave in October of 2009: “Our objective and our mission must be to be sources of compassion, actors of compassion, speakers of compassion and doers of compassion.”

If only we could all feel as they do. Leave a Comment

Christians Disappointed in Jennifer Knapp

by Lindsey Kay

Jennifer Knapp is a lesbian. That probably doesn’t mean much to a lot of people who weren’t following contemporary Christian music in the mid-nineties. Yet there is a subset of people for whom this news is important. They seem to have already (in the short few weeks since the news became public) broken into three groups: the ambivalent, who say “Wait, now that she’s in the public eye again will she be releasing a new album?”; the supportive, “Well, good for her being open about it. Nothing good comes from secrets”; and the bitterly disappointed.

The bitterly disappointed Christians sort of frighten me. These are the ones who threaten to burn all the albums of hers they still have around. These are the ones who say that she was never a Christian at all if she could “go and do something like that.” These are the ones who threaten to picket the release of her new album, the ones who will refuse to let their kids listen to her music. I have to wonder why someone would feel betrayed at the revelation that a Christian musician is in a lesbian relationship. I don’t remember people burning Amy Grant’s albums when she got a divorce, and I haven’t seen them burn the Newsboys’ albums because they wear polyester/rayon blends. I even hear vicious rumors that Relient K eat shrimp and, hey, P.O.D’s frontman has a lot of tattoos, and I’m pretty sure the Bible says something about that being idolatry and we all know how God feels about that.

Let’s lay aside the arguments about Biblical consistency, though, and talk about something even more important: humanity. Jennifer Knapp never pretended to be anything more than human. The beauty of her music was in her acknowledging her own flaws. She struggled with her faith, with the Bible, with other Christians, with herself. She let us into the world between her ears and it was a fascinating place. Her music was so popular because she always came across as absolutely genuine. Yet, in the midst of that genuineness there was a side of herself that she felt she had to keep hidden. In her interview with Christianity Today she said she felt she had to choose between her faith and her love for another woman. If she chose to commit herself fully to her love, then she would have to deny her Christianity. What a struggle she must have gone through, feeling that she had to deny her own heart in order to keep her ministry alive.

Christians may (appropriately) point out that the Bible says a lot about denying ourselves. “What Jennifer went through,” one might say, “is no different than any other Christian having to deny their love for food, or for casual sex, or for bending the truth. We ought to deny ourselves, pick up our cross, and follow Him.” Well, that might be true, if it weren’t for the fact that what Jennifer was struggling with was not a desire to perform actions that were hurtful, but the need to deny her faith and her career in order to devote herself to loving someone else. It’s beautiful that she made that choice, and I can only imagine the happiness she felt in the seven years she spent out of the public eye and enjoying her relationship with her girlfriend. I can only imagine the fear and trepidation that she felt as she considered coming back into the public and exposing her love to the scrutiny and harshness of mass criticism.

I could write a long exposition on how Christians act contrary to their faith when they excommunicate homosexuals and forgive the hypocrisy and sin of the “brothers” they choose to embrace, but I won’t do that right now. Instead, I’ll ask a single question: what is best? Is it better that Jennifer pretend to be something that she is not, to allow us the comfort of who we imagine her to be? Or is it better that she allow us to see her fully, with her beauty and her flaws? I say we embrace her for who she is, and let God sort it all out in the end.

"I Heart Nature" by Lydia Selk

When looking at how Christians ought to behave there is no greater example than the Man they follow. To demonstrate this point, I’ll talk about a few different groups of people who are often marginalized:

1. The ‘Punks’, the ‘Goths’, and others scattered subcultures on the edge of mainstream society: Whether it’s the guy getting high in the alleyway, or the tattooed beauty throwing down dance moves in the club ─ where do they fit in relation to us Christians? How do we get close enough to them to share God’s heart with them? We Christians can’t say, “Come to us, all who are thirsty,” and just wait for them to show up at church on a Sunday morning… especially since if they showed up looking like they do on Friday night, we’d just throw them out, anyway.

2. The couples choosing to live together without marrying: They don’t have relationships that follow the traditional ‘Good Christian Standard’, and they are painfully aware of it. Talking about their lifestyle means talking about how very much they’ve fallen short of what is the expected Christian norm. They might miss the faith of their youth, or just know there is something missing from their lives, but trying to build a relationship with the church is uncomfortable for them, because they feel they are being judged and found lacking. One could argue that this judgment is part of how God “convicts” them and shows them their need for Him… but do you suppose God really wants to convict people before they ever even try to worship Him?

3. Gay people. Need I say more?

Jesus ministered to people in three major ways: He went to where they were, eating in their homes, He went to places where they had easy access to Him, preaching on hillsides, at the docks, or in the marketplace, and He performed miracles for the desperately needy.

At the time, all of these ways of ministering were revolutionary, because a good priest would not eat at a tax collectors home, nor most certainly not in the company of drunkards and other sinners, as Jesus did, as they believed doing so would render them ‘unclean’. A good priest spoke from a place of authority, such as the temple, or at the city gates. Going out into public arenas that were the province of farmers and tradesman would have been an act of lowering one’s esteemed self, yet these were the arenas where Jesus gained all of His followers. People flocked to Him, and were welcomed by Him. The Bible illustrates that women and children were also welcomed into Jesus’ world, never more clearly than in Luke 18:15-17 in which Jesus says, “Let the children come to me… The Kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these.”

The dichotomy of Jesus’s way of preaching, versus the way the religious leaders preached, sees no greater example than this. But then, there are also His miracles. People such as the man who was born blind and people saw this blindness as God’s judgment upon him, and so they avoided him. (Matthew 9:27-31) Or the woman who was ill, yet because she was bleeding, was not permitted by religious law to leave her home or to touch a man. Yet she had faith that Jesus would welcome her to Him, if she touched His cloak. (Luke 8:40-49)

Jesus created three unique arenas where the people could belonged to Him, or He belong to them, as one can also see it, so shouldn’t we modern Christians do the same? Are we brave enough to dine at the home of a gay couple? To pass out water at the door of the blue-haired girl’s favorite bar or club? To give diapers to the teenage mother, or groceries to the couple living “in sin”?

Are we brave enough to take the words of our “What Would Jesus Do?” bumper sticker and really reflect on what our Father is truly doing?

Last 5 posts by Lindsey Kay

• On The ‘Ground Zero’ Mosque (a must-read for every American) - December 17th, 2010
• Christians Disappointed in Jennifer Knapp - June 29th, 2010
• What Marriage is and Isn’t - April 1st, 2009
• I'm Not Gay - February 1st, 2009
• Of Sin and Holiness - January 1st, 2009

Cheeky Smile by Lydia Selk

It’s interesting to listen to couples in the first blush of love talk about what they want from their relationships. They say things like, “Wouldn’t it be great to be together all the time?” or, “I just feel like I’m dying when we’re not touching”.

I would hope that after ten years of marriage, (currently on year six) that I’d still want to spend the majority of the time with my husband. I know I certainly can’t wait to talk to him any time something exciting happens. As for the “dying when we’re not touching”, well, after several months of marriage and almost constant contact, that particular wish wilted a bit Then, two years later, and after Baby One it certainly reawakened for a while. But that’s a different topic, isn’t it?

The point is that marriage is and isn’t all we expect it to be. At first it is an orgy of togetherness (take that literally or figuratively), a communion of intellect and emotion, and entertainment. It is an endless dance of what he wants and she wants, and massively intense. But two people can only maintain this much closeness before things start to get rubbed raw. Humans do crave togetherness, but they also need aloneness. Two can become one to a point that neither one remembers who they are when apart, and while that may seem magical, it’s also harmful. We need to be united, yes, but we also need to be who God created us to be. And the joining two together can become twisted to the point where one person sacrifices their being and calling for the happiness of the other ─ which kills the union.

In addition, the sad reality is that the miracle of togetherness can often become overshadowed by memories of the first serious fight. Work and family can be very distracting to the point where the marriage itself is shelved as secondary and the closeness and specialness of the relationship is not maintained. And then each partner is left to figure out what marriage really is.

Here are some hints to help: a relationship is not about you. It can’t be, or it will end. Marriage is not about you being adored, you being desired, you being fulfilled, your needs being met. It’s about loving the other person in the partnership and his or her happiness being more important than your own. That means making sacrifices, sometimes going ignored or neglected for long periods of time. Not because it’s okay to do that, but because life happens and in the midst of life happening people can be overlooked hurt. But marriage isn’t about that hurt. It’s about the hope, the faith, the commitment, the vows, the forsaking of all others for the sake of the union. It’s about learning how to truly love someone unconditionally. It’s about learning to put yourself second.
And if you have children….wow. At that point, it’s about learning to put yourself third or fourth (or fifth, or sixth, or seventh). It’s about learning real, real patience. It’s about learning to swallow anger, or only letting it out appropriately. It’s about learning to live without so that your kids don’t have to. It’s about hours, days, months, years, spent waiting for a chance to pursue a dream. Often there are only enough hours in the day for one person to get needs met, or pursue dreams above and beyond their regular jobs at work or at home to maintain the household and family..

In order for a marriage to work, sometimes it seems like the people involved have to practically transcend humanity. And, I emphasize ─ two people. It doesn’t matter how holy and how perfect one person is, if the other person never offers the same sort of transcendental commitment, the marriage will collapse. Rarely is one met halfway, but so long as both keep meeting, things always seem to work themselves out. In a perfect world, you’d have two people so wholly devoted to each other’s fulfillment that neither go wanting. But this world isn’t perfect. Yet, it’s perfect enough and that is what matters.

Not perfection, but having enough, and learning to be thankful for that. The moments of togetherness eclipsing the moments of solitude, the love expressed covering the wounds of anger, the tender expressions taking the place of epic love poems. And in learning to love what is there, we learn about God. We understand why God would send Christ for us, a broken people. And we learn to be like him. For me, that’s what marriage really is.

Last 5 posts by Lindsey Kay

• On The ‘Ground Zero’ Mosque (a must-read for every American) - December 17th, 2010
• Christians Disappointed in Jennifer Knapp - June 29th, 2010
• What Would Jesus Really Do? - August 23rd, 2009
• I'm Not Gay - February 1st, 2009
• Of Sin and Holiness - January 1st, 2009

Editors’ Note: Our ‘Humane Religion’ columnist, Lindsey Kay, felt compelled to write this article due to the backlash she has received over her recently-released book, Honest Conversations, which deals with her Christian church’s stance on homosexuality, and has stirred up quite a storm amongst some Christians. We have printed a reader review of Lindsey’s book in this month’s review section.

___________________________________

I’m not gay. Every once in a while I feel this need to remind the world of that fact.

I’m not a lesbian. I am madly in love with a man. I am deeply attracted to him on both a physical and emotional level. We have two wonderful children together, these children whom amaze me daily. I love my life, I love my husband, I would not choose a different existence. I am fulfilled by my marriage as much as any person ever can be. (That meaning, yes we have issues and troubles and moments of frustration, but I believe that fact only goes to demonstrate our devotion- I am with my husband because I love and chose him, and no other reason.)

I do not secretly wonder if I may be a lesbian. I do not write about homosexuality because I’m trying to assuage my own sin. I don’t want to make being gay “okay” so that I can leave my husband and go do gay things. I write about homosexuality because ten years ago my best friend told me she was with another girl, and she was sure it would end our friendship. I write about it because six years ago I watched a young man lose his faith in God when God didn’t heal his sexuality. I write about it because most Christians don’t know anyone who is gay- or at least don’t know that the people they know are gay. I write about it because sexuality has created a huge and yawning divide in Christianity, and someone has to be willing to put their foot across the gap and risk being dirty.

I write about it because, honestly, I don’t know how not to. I care, therefore I write. I can’t stop caring, so I can’t stop writing.

But am I gay? No.
_____________________________________________

Last 5 posts by Lindsey Kay

• On The ‘Ground Zero’ Mosque (a must-read for every American) - December 17th, 2010
• Christians Disappointed in Jennifer Knapp - June 29th, 2010
• What Would Jesus Really Do? - August 23rd, 2009
• What Marriage is and Isn’t - April 1st, 2009
• Of Sin and Holiness - January 1st, 2009

Photo by Miles Ranno

How is a Christian to deal with sin?

This is a topic that seems to turn up over and again, constantly being pushed to the background in exasperation, and then shoved back into the foreground, as prominent Christians inevitably fall and have to be “dealt with”. How Christians compromise with sin then becomes the way in which they are judged in society’s eyes.

There is a saying that the Army of God is the only one that routinely shoots its wounded. Christianity becomes a laughingstock when Ted Haggard announces he’s not gay anymore after a few weeks of therapy. It becomes an object of rebuke when Westboro Baptist protests the funerals of soldiers, while holding signs that say, “God Hates Fags.” It is confounded time and time again when well-meaning Christians eviscerate their own over perceived sins. Christianity as a whole causes the world to shake its collective head when Christians display undeserved fealty to political leaders solely on the basis of faith, rather than good judgment.

We cast aside the sinners ─or so we think─ and embrace the holy. At least, we hope that they’re holy.

Yet , should we Christians show fealty to others based solely on our perception of their faith, when we’ve no reliable way to witness their sincerity? That kind of blind faith gets the sheep fleeced far too often. And should we indeed shoot our ‘wounded’, just because we perceive that their failings come from a lack of faith? The Bible is full of fallen heroes. In fact, with the exception of one gleaming example of Who was crucified, fallen heroes are all we Christian have got.

Christians are all missing the point, with excuses for this slash and burn such as, “if we tolerate sin, how are we to be set apart?”

Jesus didn’t say his disciples would be known for their lack of sin, but that they would be known by their love. And as for the cryptic Biblical words, “expel the immoral brother from among you”, it comes hand in hand with the caution to “judge not lest ye be judged in kind.”

The pursuit of holiness is by its very nature a personal one. One cannot achieve holiness by eradicating the sins of others around one’s self. Any attempt to do so would be useless. Look at the example of the televangelist who cheats on his wife. Certainly he does some good with his life ─ there are the weeping faces of the multitudes he preaches to that show that he has successfully brought conviction, are there not? But those tears don’t speak to the Televangelist’s holiness, they speak to the multitude’s own willingness to allow God to convict them of their sins. So when the truth comes out and one sees the televangelist for who he really is ─ a greedy, egocentric manipulator ─ he is judged on the merit of his own failing. And now the measure by which he judged the world is brought against him, and he is destroyed.

Christians would be better served if they loved holiness. Yes, the pursuit of holiness means leaving sin behind. But sin is left behind as a side effect of good behavior. If one loves to be gentle, one will not share harsh words. If one loves peace, one will not seek out conflict. If one love one’s spouse, one will not stray. If one loves one’s children, treating them cruelly would be unthinkable. If one loves others, one will not be cold or judgmental. In short, if we all hated all negative things, imagine the energy that would be expended on that hatred! We Christians would go about raging internally as we fought to kill off all bad things inside of ourselves. But, if we instead, focus on our gentle nature; focus on the potential in the people around ourselves, endeavor to call out all of the beauty in the world, then, rather than making the universe “less bad”, we’d find that we can make it better.

At that point, the question of rejecting any person becomes unnecessary. If we encounter someone who is homosexual, or in a non-committed sexual relationship, or is an alcoholic, or a convict, or any other situation deemed “unholy”, we don’t need to reject this person in order to maintain our own goodness. It’s inevitable that people, all people, will sin. But if we seek to find the good inside ourselves, goodness will grow and sin will fade. And so, when encountering people who are in the midst of sin, we should ask ourselves, do they seek to better the world? If so, then by all means, embrace this person, sin and all. Embrace them and help them on their way to holiness, and at some point, we may see their sin shrinking away, as their holiness grows.

And there is the real solution to the dilemma of sin. Just as a flame growing stronger kills darkness, the growth of holiness rids the world of sin.

_______________________________________________________

About the Photographer: Miles Ranno

Miles Ranno has been behind the camera his enitre life. The type of photos he captures most often are the emotional, candid moments, ranging from love and lust, to rage and craze.  Those unrehearsed moments come and go so fast,  ”it makes my head spin when I miss the opportunity to photograph them,” says he.  For this reason Mr, Ranno goes about his life with his Nikon strapped to his shoulder waiting for those poetic moments to show themselves, so that he can capture and share them with the world.

Last 5 posts by Lindsey Kay

• On The ‘Ground Zero’ Mosque (a must-read for every American) - December 17th, 2010
• Christians Disappointed in Jennifer Knapp - June 29th, 2010
• What Would Jesus Really Do? - August 23rd, 2009
• What Marriage is and Isn’t - April 1st, 2009
• I'm Not Gay - February 1st, 2009

Photo by Lydia Selk

Many Christians have experienced tough times. Perhaps they’ve just been diagnosed with a chronic illness, or a family member is dying, or they’ve suddenly lost a job, or are feeling like their life is in limbo, or whatever else; when another well-meaning Christian puts a hand on their shoulder and says with conviction, “Take heart. God is in control.”

How true is that statement, really? The Bible seems to tell conflicting tales. The Israelites went through extraordinary periods of being in God’s grace and then out of it; from persecution to exile, to return to God’s promise and back again, and the Old Testament blames this cycle not on God’s lack of power, but on the fickle hearts of the Israelites themselves.  Thus causing Christians in this day and age to often blame the struggles we face on either our own fickleness or the sins of our forefathers.

Is that fair?

The New Testament also tells the story of the man who was blind from birth. When asked whose sin resulted in his blindness, Christ replied that it was so that God’s glory could be shown. Which causes modern Christians to ask, “am I being tried for my sins, or is this simply to show God’s glory?”

Is THAT fair?

There’s also the fallen nature of our world. In the Old Testament, when Adam and Eve were cast out of the Garden, not only were they and their offspring cursed, but the labor of their hands and the fruit of the earth, and even the insects and animals were cursed. Which causes Christians to ask, “am I simply a victim of the fallen nature of this planet?”

What is true? Is God in control, and do we shun His control with our own hard hearts? Is He in control and allowing us to suffer, to later demonstrate His glory? Is the world simply still under the curse of sin and death, and we are victims of it?

But, wait… we have Christ, right? Which means the curse is broken, isn’t it? Well, it may be broken for those who believe in Christ, but not for the entire planet, is that right? God’s Kingdom hasn’t come, has it?

But we are here, we are faithful, we are bringing the Kingdom… so isn’t God in control?

The logic circles onward and the logic circles inward. Like at the end of C.S. Lewis’s, The Last Battle, we must answer the call to follow further up and further in.

All I know is that I trust my own heart and life are in God’s hands, and He is as in control of my own faith as much as I will allow Him to be. And I do have hope, as foolish and pointless as it may be, I still have hope. I believe that I will see God’s love in my life, I believe that as bleak and hopeless as it all may seem, I will experience joy. I believe it because I have seen God’s faithfulness in my own life. Not that my life has been “blessed” or “fortuitous” – far from it. But has God been there?  To me, He has, without a doubt. Was He in Control? I don’t know.

But He was there.

So next time you feel the urge to extend a hand of comfort, next time you hear the religious conviction tone in your voice, pause for a moment and choose your words with care. Perhaps we shouldn’t throw out the words “God is in control” so carelessly. Instead, choose to say,

“God is with you. So am I.”

_______________________________________________________

ABOUT THE PHOTOGRAPHER: LYDIA SELK

Photographer Lydia Selk lives in the Pacific Northwest of the United States. She is an artist and photographer who took the time to look for beauty and says that now beauty is all she can see.