Please, By All Means, Label Me!

I recently read an article in which an Alternative band was mentioned, a band that does a song I happen to really love.  I won’t say who the band is, because I’m not interested in bad-mouthing them; rather I’d like to address something I see as a problem in Christian music. 

It seems to be a growing attitude amongst Christian bands that we “don’t want to be labeled as Christians.”  The prevailing thought behind this is that without the “Christian” label, they’ll be able to reach more people, who theoretically will be brought to Christ by being fans of their Please-Don’t-Label-Us music.  My response to that:

Who are y’all kidding?

Let’s face it, guys.  The world isn’t interested in feel-good Christianity.  They’re not interested in more of what they already have.  They don’t need a God who timidly tiptoes around the background, making sure His people aren’t “offensive” to those around them.  The Jesus I worship was a radical, counter-culture Jew.  And yeah, he offended people.  Important people. 

It’s a good thing He didn’t mind being labeled.

And before you protest that you ARE being radical and offensive, let’s be clear: rock music is NOT going against the norm, okay?  I’m sorry, it’s not counter-culture, it lines up WITH culture.  It just lines up with the wrong culture—the culture you’re supposed to be standing AGAINST.  (Relax, I like some rock music.  Just don’t stick a few “You”s instead of “Baby”s in it and try to say you’re winning people to Christ with it.)

In all areas of our lives, and specifically in our music, let’s quit trying to fit in.  We don’t, and we shouldn’t.  Everything about us should be different, from the way we dress and talk to the kind of music and entertainment we make.

I, for one, am proud to wear the label “Christian”.  I’d be insulted if the world didn’t label me that way.

“As for me and my house, we will serve the LORD.”—Joshua 24:15

Nonsensically Hopeful

For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.—Jeremiah 29:11

As is probably obvious, I was raised in a Christian home and became a Christian at a very young age.  There were a lot of things that I grew up accepting that other people may not, and I’ve always been aware of that.  So I’m not normally surprised when the world around me rejects an idea I take for granted as true.

However once in a while, I’ll forget.  Certain aspects of my faith have become such a part of me that I sometimes forget people around me don’t know what I know.  Hope is one such aspect.  It’s just something I don’t think about; the deep set belief that everything is going to be okay, that it’ll all work out, that someday, we’ll all look back on whatever we’re going through and smile, understanding what it was we needed from that circumstance.

Now lest you think I have no empathy for the hopeless, let me share with you that I too, have lost hope before.  Until 2010, I didn’t actually know what it was like to NOT have hope for a good future.  The thought never even crossed my mind; I had a dream, a calling, a fantastic family, a couple amazing friends, a loving church clan….my future was bright, even if my present wasn’t quite what I wanted it to be.  Until an unexpected betrayal and an illness that struck WAY too close to home changed all that.  The next two years were the hardest of my life; full of fear, relief, anger, joy, resentment, bitterness, and growing pains like you wouldn’t believe.  It was the roller coaster of a lifetime, and while I LOVE roller coasters, I have to confess I’m not particularly thrilled about emotional ones.  It was probably the end of 2010/beginning of 2011 before I realized I no longer believed with complete certainty that everything was going to turn out fine.  Quite the opposite, actually, I was so bogged down with pain and fear I could barely see tomorrow, and when I did catch a glimpse of it, all I could see was more of what I was feeling right then.  More sadness, more ache in my heart, more exhaustion.  I barely had the energy to keep up the façade my life had become to keep anyone from suspecting something was wrong.

2011 wasn’t much better than 2010, and by the end of it, I had reached the end of my rope.  Circumstantially, my life was actually going quite well: an awesome family vacation in summer 2011, a new job, a couple new friends, reconciliation with some old ones, and the illness that nearly took someone very dear to me was stabilized if not beaten completely.  But inside, I was a MESS.  I had finally reached my limit, there was no way I could continue to act like I was fine.  Perhaps the cliché that God changes your heart when you come to the end of yourself has some truth, after all.  My parents, of course, had been well aware of how I was really doing for months (some kind of parent radar, I don’t know how they do it), and had been trying to get me to talk about it.  I, naturally, wouldn’t; but when everything finally imploded, they were right there to help me pull through it. 

But it was a couple months into 2012 before I really got my mojo back—actually at the time I was starting this blog.  And when I finally came back, I came BACK.  It was like waking up from a horrid dream and remembering who I was before—but with a bit more maturity and experience.  My hope, faith, joy, contentment all became as much a part of me as if they’d never gone. 

Which was why, as I tried to talk a friend through a really tough situation the other day, and they accused me of feeding them “hopeful nonsense”, I was slightly taken aback.   It got me thinking on hope and whether it really is nonsensical.

I came to the conclusion that yeah, it really is.  Knowing the stats, knowing how the world works, knowing that bad things happen ALL the time to good people….it is logically a crazy idea to honestly believe everything will work out in the end.  And that’s where hope and faith come in.  Hebrews says faith is “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen”.  And it’s all based on Jeremiah 29:11—God’s promise that He has good plans for you, not evil ones. 

Oh.  And I have one thing to say to those who call faith a crutch: I’ve been on both sides of this thing now, faith and hopelessness.  Giving up hope is easier.  Holding on to something you can’t see is no crutch; it takes more strength than simply throwing one’s hands up and saying, “my life is going to hell, whatever.  I don’t care.”  So next time you’re tempted to call someone weak for believing in something they can’t see or hear or touch:

DON’T.

They’ll just laugh at your ignorance.

All that to say, yes.  We should be nonsensically hopeful.  You know why?  Because we have an “in” with the Creator of the Universe.  He loves us passionately, unconditionally, deeply; He wants the best for us.  And He can make it happen. 

So hope.  Have faith.  Be crazy in your determination to never give up believing.  Go make them wonder why the heck you’re still certain of your future when everything is falling apart.  Then when they ask, tell them of the God who loves you more than life itself, and Who gives you hope that is completely crazy, it’s so strong.