Feel Free to Skip this Stuff

Something compels me to continue my trip through this little black book that I carry with me, which has also turned into a review of a project we called "100 Things About Me." Several of us partook -- Ruthie, for example, began hers in purple crayon on a paper tablecloth over a large bottle of Chianti at the Macaroni Grill one night -- and it was more difficult than I expected it to be. The pressure to sound interesting can be a pain.

At any rate, one page in my book ends with Thing About Me, # 32:

I believe I've met more interesting people in the last year than in the entire rest of my life.

There's an ambiguity about whether "more" is qualitative or quantitative here that I left unresolved intentionally because I couldn't make up my mind, and looking back, "interesting" wasn't the right word to use anyway. Comparisons to the first thirty or so years of my Life aside, (what's that about comparison, TG?) I am surrounded these days by people trying hard to Live with open eyes, and for whom people are more important than ideas. A long time ago someone said that, "God hates ideas," and while I'm hesitant to speak on God's behalf, that sounds about right.

At the top of the facing page are a couple phone numbers -- one of a lady a mutual friend thought might be able to fix my back (see # 67) and one of one of those people that #32 refers to. I don't think I've ever called either of them. I'm horrible about calling people. I've owed my friend Rob a phone call for months and just can't seem to do it (see # 60).

As evidence of this "interesting people," (or whatever you want to call it,) phenomenon, my Interesting Friend Kevin knows Brian McLaren, an author who was very helpful for lots of my people and me a couple years back when I had nearly decided that I was just a bitter old crank. Kevin had McLaren in to speak at a weekend gathering which Ruthie and I attended, and I took some notes.

I'm trying to reach myself for Christ.

That was McLaren's line, but I feel like he was quoting someone else. It also looks like the extent of my note-taking for that weekend (I've always been more of a doodler -- you should see my college notebooks).

The next line makes me wish I dated these entries -- had to be January of '04 anyway -- because this is the page on which, for the first time, I documented a big part of my dissatisfaction with the culture I was a part of:

Stop labeling.

Another short phrase that says a mouthful about the person I'm becoming. I won't rant on about it here -- that conversation works better when it occurs naturally (most do) -- but my opinion is that labels are almost never helpful. I had (another) great talk with Randy (see also here) yesterday over some bad beer and ended up talking about a mutual friend who's had some DUI-related difficulties. Everyone I've talked to who's been through the DUI punishment program says that the whole time you're going through it the System tries to convince you that you're an alcoholic. I asked Randy if the friend in question was and he pointed out to my blind eyes that, "'Alcoholic' is a made up word," (read, "label"). "If you're gonna make up a word," he said, "you can make it mean anything you want." So two years later, I'm still not quite awake. I am, however, surrounded by people who continue to gently shake me and whisper, "Ben...time to wake up," (or else just put on some bacon and let the aroma do the trick).

The next entry in the little black book says:

permanently & totally divorced from "inside talk."

And that may well have also sprung from the McLaren weekend. I suppose that many of these little phrases are lines in the sand for me, or notches on my Ratchet, if you've been around long enough to remember when that was the dominant metaphor in my Life. (Matt, I think we could safely call them "Baby Steps"). There's no dramatic conversion in this Story, just a gradually brightening light slowly waking me up.

Another quote from McLaren -- apparently I took two notes:

If Christians are jerks it's bad for everybody.

Simple enough to sound comical, but so many of them still haven't caught on, (except that "Christian" is a label, which makes my use of the word "them" tricky).

A big part of my oft-repeated dissatisfaction with organized religion (at least the brand that I was associated with for so long) was the angst that the meetings created. The compulsion to have a good meeting (however that's defined group to group) seems to me to do more damage than good, and that's reflected in the last two little scribblings on the page. The first is something a friend said to me as we reflected on the pressure of Leading a Group. I'm better in front of a bunch of people than he is (which is, as far as I'm concerned, a compliment to his character) and he related the feeling that had him, as a leader, dreading his own meetings:

I'm unprepared again and all these people are looking at me.

If he was ever unprepared, it was to give a snappy talk or lesson or force an inorganic conversation. I've never been around him that he didn't contribute something of beauty -- a metaphor, an image, a song, a kick in the pants. But the Idolatry of the Meeting devalued all of that Reality and made him feel insufficient and guilty. To Hell With That. I will say it again: To Hell With That.

The next line was a note I made to remind myself that we should watch more movies with our people and that The Fisher King would be an excellent selection.

Mr. Hoo-Hoo has been asleep for over an hour now, and I don't know how much more peace I can expect from him, so I'm going to try to clean up a bit around the house. More later.