It’s been a long time since I’ve written here. I think I need to start again, primarily because I need a vent for politics.

It’s election time again. Four years ago, I was tired enough of political games that I wasn’t going to bother investing any energy into it. Then I took a silly online poll that was supposed to tell me my candidate. After answering the questions, I was told my candidate was some guy named Ron Paul.

I hadn’t heard of him. So I looked him up. Then everything changed.

I think this blog was called “Restless Reformer” back in those days. If you were reading me back then, you probably remember my writing a lot about him, and losing energy when the “newsletter” scandal hit (though I did write what I think was a reasonable response and argument for continuing to support him). I came close to retracting support for him entirely, but after a lot of careful consideration, I’m still very much a part of the “Revolution.”

This GOP primary will be his last regular exposure on the national stage. He’ll not be running for Congress again. He’ll certainly have a continuing presence on news networks and the Campaign for Liberty. But this is really the last big hurrah for Dr. Paul himself to have the kind of popularity to allow him to shape the political conversation.

He won’t get the nomination. In reality, we need a younger, more articulate, and perhaps more politically savvy spokesperson for these ideas. But I’m going to write and argue that he should get the nomination, and hopefully play a small role in getting the limited government, sound money, and non-interventionist foreign policy messages out there.

For me, Hutchmoot last year was emotional. Every talk felt like a one-two punch. But in a good way. A lip trembling, tears welling up, lump-in-the-throat kind of way. Ideas about truth, grace, love, beauty, and theological meaning knocked me around all weekend. God was working on me.

A particularly intense moment came in the middle of a talk by Andrew and Ron on George MacDonald, about the sense of wonder in children and the excitement they have for the mystery of the world. Andrew said that children allow us to stay wide-eyed, they help us be creative because they see magic in the mundane.

I thought of my daughter.

And with that, I tumbled over and into the rabbit hole, following thought after thought. I heard her stories, her laughter, and I saw the joy in her face when a new idea dawns on her. But I also remembered how hard motherhood had been for me so far. How, even though Sophie was my treasure, being a parent had been the most depleting experience of my life. I tried to turn back to the talk, to tune in, but not before the last thought, in a whisper; a baby. My stomach tightened. A baby? Really, God? I can’t handle more than one child. I have nothing else to give. I am already all tapped out.

But then my stomach released. A baby. Another child with which to share the wonder and mystery. And then another thought, “All that God asks for, He provides.” God was working on me.

His name is Jack, like our hero, Lewis, and he is four months old. He was born nine months after Hutchmoot 2010.

So, it was with fear and trembling that I boarded the plane to Nashville this year. Another word from the Lord and I’d have another nine months of joint pain, high blood pressure, and morning sickness.

Of course, I had nothing to fear. Even if I did hear the nudge for another baby, which I didn’t. (Exhale. Relief). This year I laughed. My cheeks hurt from laughing. I felt light and free of worry. I took in the words, the songs, the stories. I let the ideas wash over me with thankfulness and wonder. My thoughts on the weekend were elusive. I took so much into my head and really hadn’t processed much. I was touched by many moments, but the weight of emotion hadn’t hit me.

Then on Sunday morning, I saw Father Thomas lean down to kiss the top of his daughter’s head. He stood before her in his robes, sharing the most important nourishment, communicating the most profound act of grace that one can give to another: the Body and Blood of Christ. My eyes burned and the tears spilled over.

I thought of my daughter.

I thought of my son.

I thought about my Father in Heaven who loves me like I love Sophie and Jack, only so much better. I knew the reason I was in Nashville, at Hutchmoot, in that service. Last year I became a parent again. This year I will become a better parent. I will give my best to my children, because they deserve nothing less. Our Father, in His wisdom and mercy, teaches us how to live year after year.

I thought about how I could explain to Sophie what Mommy and Daddy had to do that was so important it took them away for four days.

This is what I came up with: I talked to people I never met in an easy way, like talking to our family. We all got to sing songs and tell stories and make drawings that made our hearts happy. We ate colorful food that made our bodies feel good. We laughed and we played. We thanked God for giving us everything we need to live, like love and adventures. And I asked God to help me be a better Mommy to you.

See you next year, friends.

So, I took the plunge and hung a shingle. I now have a private counseling practice. I only have four clients, but still. It’s a start. And every detail of getting started has been painstaking. My nature is to make everything more difficult than it has to be. It is one of my most endearing qualities.

I’ve been boring people with talk of a practice forever, but have been too much of a chicken to give it a go. Then, out of the blue, a dear friend asked me to be a partner in her practice. Since that conversation I have been equally giddy and terrified. I have worked as a school counselor for years, but working privately is very different. And being qualified on paper doesn’t change the fact that I often feel like a fraud. I feel like people are going to find me out. They will see that I really have no idea what I’m doing. I am plagued by self-doubt. Insecurity. Nerves. Bad feelings that make me shut all the lights off and watch sad movies and have pity parties for myself.

And as I sat laboring over the perfect wording for my new website one night, something out the ordinary happened. Something divine, I think. As a rule, I’m not one to “hear a word from the Lord,” let alone share it publicly. I’ve become more of a “live a quiet life” kind of girl. The Bible talks about living a quiet, peaceful life, doing justice, loving mercy and walking humbly with God.

Well, I am now temporarily switching to megaphone mode. I want you to know that I heard from God directly and I know it.

I was sitting there, at midnight, quite tired and discouraged. I was playing those relentless messages over in my head. The ones that say, “You’re going to make mistakes. You’re going to be unprepared. Working so closely with people is messy and confusing, and you can’t handle messes and confusion.” I decided to take a break and skip over to a mindless activity, specifically Facebook, for a few minutes. And I noticed that I had a new friend request. It took me a second to place the name. And then it happened. I promise you, I heard God laugh. Yes, laugh. And then I started to laugh. And cry, at the same time.

The friend request was from a girl I knew for six months, in a different city, 13 years ago. She was the first client I ever worked with. She was first person I ever helped as a brand new, just out of my program, qualified counselor and she had reached out on this very night, when I was feeling most useless. Coincidence? I think not. And as I sat letting the tears and the giggles wash over me, I realized that God was very near and very real. I imagined Him smiling and shaking His Fatherly head and saying in a deep voice, “When will you trust that I made you who you need to be, silly girl?”

The fact that all the people I know are better writers than me often keeps me from putting ideas to page. I have a tender little underbelly that was first scraped up by Professor Sweet, creative writing expert. But it’s been, like, 17 years, so maybe I should just move on. Here goes.

I was a part of this really interesting endeavor called Hutchmoot in Nashville. It was billed as a conference on writing, music, art, and God but I knew as soon as I walked in that it was more. Before I talk about how much more it was, I want to give a reference point for the lens through which I write.

I have been in a desert following a pillar of fire for about three years. I live in a neighborhood that scares most people like me, including me. There is ugliness. There is poverty and helplessness and crime and a lot of yelling. Of course, there is brokenness everywhere in everyone, because that is the way the world looks until Jesus makes all things new. But my house is planted in a bleaker landscape. The secrets that people keep, the lies and numbing and faking that I see at work, in the grocery store or at church are much less sophisticated in front of my house. Instead of the superego taming a pained person to put on a brave face, I see the id from my front porch. I see the hurting. It is exposed. It is explosive. And it elicits a sense of helplessness in me like I have never known.

I struggle with the concept of the “calling” of God to do things. But the burden on my heart to live in this place was unmistakable; this place that needs caring for in a very practical way, like cleaning up spoons that were used to cook up crack from front yards. The fancy term is neighborhood revitalization. The truth: I am struggling to find my own vital signs in this place. I came home to find my kitchen window smashed one time. A lockbox was taken that was assumed to have drugs and money in it. Instead, it contained ultrasound pictures of my daughter. I was sitting on the porch and heard gun shots ring out one street over. The shooter ran past me and looked into my eyes with a depth that even some of my friends do not. It has broken me to live here.

So in this broken state, feeling like I could not leave fast enough, I boarded a plane for Nashville. I prayed that God would bring me back to life. I asked for a way to understand the three years in the desert.

Walking into the church where the conference was held, I was absorbed like a droplet of water into the sea. But I was still me and they were still them and the sea was not chaos, but comfort. I was in a safe place. I wasn’t alone and I didn’t have to be strong. I listened to people tell the old, old story and sing about the pain of us all and peace that is coming where He will wipe away every tear. I was given a moment of what will be eternity; a celebration of all that God has created. He has created creators with hearts to tell stories to give meaning to others too weak to imagine for themselves.

I am home. And while my time on this street has been short, I can clean up this neighborhood in what little time I have left. I can plant trees and I can teach people to garden and I can paint buildings. But closer to the heart of what it means to revitalize, I can tell stories. With words, I can shape a context for those roaming this bleak landscape. God comforted me with story. I will care as I have been cared for.

My prayers will always be with the storytellers who stay behind when we’ve moved on.

I’ve heard it lots of times: “During the summer, when it’s hot, I just like a Bud Light or a Mic Ultra.” Here’s the good news: You don’t have to drink crappy beer just because it’s hot! Here are a few basic recommendations for excellent beers that go down easy at hot summer barbeques. This will be especially helpful for Rochesterians, or anyone who lives near a Wegmans, as they have specialty beer shops.

Sam Adams Summer Ale: I bring this one up first, because you can get it almost anywhere, often on tap at restaurants. This is a wheat beer that has a nice citric taste, with a bit of lemon zest. Look for it on tap when you go out for dinner.

Magic Hat #9: It’s not brewed specifically for summer, but this is a great beer for summer time. Very light bodied (though not a “light beer”), this is a dry beer with an apricot essence, but it’s not overly fruity or too sweet. Nicely balanced, and goes down just a little too easy.

Southern Tier Hop Sun: This has become my favorite summer ale. It’s a wheat beer that’s a little hoppier than other summer ales, but not overwhelmingly so. I’ve had this in my fridge since it showed up on shelves this year. Tip: Get this on draft with a dozen Buffalo wings. If you’re in Rochester, it’s on tap at MacGregor’s, and their wings are decent.

Sierra Nevada Summerfest Lager: This is a very crisp pilsner with lots of flavor and a nice hop/malt balance. Great and refreshing for summer parties. After drinking this, you’ll laugh whenever you hear a TV commercial talking about “great pilsner taste” in reference to Miller Light or Bud Light. This is a great pilsner taste.

Speaking of a great pilsner taste, Sam Adams did a great pilsner for their Spring offering. If you live near a Beers of the World type store that is still carrying some Spring stuff, pick up a 6 pack of Sam Adams Noble Pils. It would also work as a great summer beer.

Rohrbach’s Summer Wheat: This one only works if you live in Rochester, as Rohrbach’s doesn’t bottle. But stop by their restaurant or brewery and get their yearly summer offering. It’s always citrusy goodness that goes down easy and is very refreshing. Their Bluebeary ale, a year-round offering, is spectacular for hot days, especially at the Red Wings ballpark, where it’s on tap.

That should get you started. Others you might like: Leinenkugel’s “Sunset Wheat” and Magic Hat’s “Circus Boy” (a hefeweizen). I wouldn’t bother with Blue Moon’s Honey Moon. I plan to try a few more in the next couple weeks, including Goose Island’s 312 Urban Wheat and Summertime ales.

But please, whatever you do, stop settling for light beers because it’s summer. You don’t have to drink that stuff. There’s great taste and refreshment to be found in good beer!

Scot McKnight argues that “universalism” is the biggest challenge facing evangelicalism for 3 reasons:

1. universalism suggests personal conversion is not finally necessary
2. it calls into question the importance and even necessity of evangelism as a form of Christian activism
3. it weakens the atoning significance of the death of Jesus if it is understood as that which separates the believer from the non-believer

Surely these aren’t impossible hurdles for someone who embraces a Christian universalism. To be fair, he doesn’t take up the point of a specifically Christian universalism, and he addresses this in comment #8. But, as others did (I wrote this post before reading the comments), I’ll make the evangelical universalist response:

1. It suggests no such thing, as “every knee will bow, and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.” The Christian universalist only denies that death is the final chance to personally convert.
2. It most certainly does not call these things into question, as the only one who saves and heals is still Jesus. Jesus is still the only redemption and motivation for activism.
3. A doctrine that says Jesus’ death will eventually save all is definitely not a “weaker” doctrine as one that says He will only save some. Apart from that, I’m not sure what he’s saying about the separation of believer from non-believer. That separation still exists and is not weakened anymore than it is by the difference between a believer and a non-believer who will convert next week.

As I explore this whole question of who will be saved, bad arguments on both sides need to be dissected.

I’m hoping to find time soon for a post on C.S. Lewis’s The Great Divorce, which I recently re-read.

Here comes a big statement that I figure I’ll make whilst this blog is still struggling back to life and has few readers: I don’t think becoming a universalist makes one a heretic.

Take a deep breath. Another. Another. Good. Let me proceed.

I mean specifically a Christian universalism. It’s the minority position by far in church history, but orthodox theologians have believed that God would in Christ reconcile all to himself in the end. “Every knee will bow, and every tongue will confess that Jesus is Lord.” Some version of universalism, or at least the acceptance of its possibility, was held by Clement, Origen, Gregory of Nazianzus, St. Gregory of Nyssa, St. Jerome, and many others. St. Basil and Augustine both noted that the belief was “widespread” and held by “very many.” Annihilationism has been held by no less than John Stott. N.T. Wright and C.S. Lewis both put for ideas both about there being far more saved than we imagine, and about any unsaved completely losing their humanity altogether (ceasing to be human, which I take to be a form of annihilation).

We’re not talking about fringe folks here. These are undoubtedly Christians. This is one of those things that makes me stop and revisit beliefs I’ve always had, and ask difficult questions about those beliefs. I intend to chronicle some of those questions soon. In the meantime, some brief notes about a book I just read on the subject.

To be clear: I am not saying that I am a universalist. But I am very interesting in reading arguments for universalism. I came across the book If Grace is True: Why God Will Save Every Person, by Philip Gulley and James Mulholland, so I grabbed a copy from the library and starting plowing through. I was hoping for a solid argument for Christian universalism. I did not find it here.

This book is a pick-and-choose theology that is illogical, poorly argued, and based on the simple belief that “God whispered to” the author and told him something, and now everything else needs to fit. By just over halfway through the book, he’s completed jumped the shark by ditching Jesus as the means of salvation, as well as his divinity, while continuing to appeal to Jesus and the Scriptures (certain selected ones) to make his case.

A simple disclaimer about theology: If you’re just some random guy in the 21st century, and you think that because God whispered to you, you can just begin picking and choosing what parts of 2,000 years of Christian theology are valid and which are not, you’re not credible. And you’re too arrogant to be listened to.

If there is any possibility at all that an argument can be made for Christian universalism, it must remain Christian. Jesus still has to be the one to do the saving.

I recently asked at The Rabbit Room whether readers there are more Took or Baggins. A great discussion has ensued.

So what are you? Answer at The Rabbit Room.

*News Theme Song* It’s the return of the Weekend Report! *News Theme Song*

iMonk’s Passing

Since news is usually sad, I’ll begin with the reminder that today is the Memorial Service for our dear friend, Michael Spencer. I am sad and frustrated that I couldn’t make the drive down to Kentucky. Keep a close watch on the Boar’s Head Tavern, where we will certainly be continuing to honor the Internet Monk today.

Chaplain Mike, who’s been keeping InternetMonk.com going over the past few months, has been linking some classic iMonk articles. Read these, and you’ll know why his writing was a big deal to so many of us. Links:

• Wretched Urgency: The Grace of God or Hamsters on a Wheel – This article completely changed my perspective on the church and evangelism. Read it.
• On Christless Preaching – I want to stab myself in the eye with a pencil whenever I hear a self-help sermon.
• Why I Am a Christian (10 Reasons) – A good apologetic for the faith.

This morning, I was looking for an article Michael wrote on Harry Potter, and in searching his site, found one of the times he’d linked me. It’s an articled called “The Night of Weeping,” and it’s closely related to what I wrote yesterday about Theological Pain.

Interesting Links

• I love grammar jokes.
• I feel like I need to write something really profound about the Tiger Woods commercial.
• Best photo caption ever