Rules

In college I was part of OCULeads - a freshman leadership program at Oklahoma City University.  I guess the point of the program was to attract, encourage, and promote young leaders on campus.   About 30 freshman met once a week and heard from a guest speaker or participated in an activity.  Pretty normal stuff, most of it not worthy of mention in a blog post, except the game we played one fateful and 'revelation inducing' Tuesday morning.



Here's how the activity works: There's an imaginary line in the middle of the room.  We all stand in a straight line, single file on this imaginary line.  The leader makes a statement and if we agree we move to the right and if we disagree we move to the left.  The further you move the extremes, the more you agree or disagree.  It's a great way to start conversations about divisive issues because it forces you to physically embody your position.  Then it allows you to take a moment and see the diversity of opinions.  But don't expect everyone to sing Kum-bi-yah, the arguments will be strong on both sides. 

Since it was a college audience the questions centered around collegiate behaviors which are acceptable to some and illicit to others.  Alcohol consumption wasn't the only topic we covered.  However, my memory has so deeply burned the situation that it might as well have been the only thing I did that entire semester.  It's probably the single most powerful memory I have of the OCULeads experience.  



I think the statement was something like, "It's alright to drink when you're underage if it's to celebrate the end of finals, the end of a big play, or some other major accomplishment.  The drinking in question would occur in the safety of a trusted friend's apartment." 

There were some students who appreciated the moral complexity of the situation.  While drinking is illegal until you're 21, it's safe to do in a controlled setting with people you trust.  What's the harm?  Students were speckled throughout the continuum of approval. 

My position was not subtle.  Unless I've blocked out some aspect of this memory, I strongly disagreed to this statement by moving as far as possible away from the center of ambiguity.  I was the most staunch opponent of underage drinking. 

Several people spoke up to support their views.  I glowered in the corner.  Finally, I was called on in recognition of my extreme stance.

Here's what I didn't say:

"Alcoholism is a disease."
"Alcoholism is a disease affects more than the alcoholic."
"Alcoholism is a disease that affects every aspect of your relationship with an alcoholic, whether you'd like it to or not."
"Alcoholism is a disease I suffer from, despite not being an alcoholic." 
"I am so scared of what happens to people when they drink."

Instead, my skin burned and my tongue tied an in a moment of clarity that I wouldn't fully appreciate until just recently I said:

"I like rules.  There are certain rules about when you can and can't drink."

And I felt like an idiot.

But it was one of the most insightful observations about own cognitive process I could have made.  "I like rules."  They help me to make sense of my existence and they tell me how to interact with others.  I imagine that's how my brain has and always will be wired.  But this personality quirk is also related to being an "Adult Child of an Alcoholic."



It would be a few years until I discovered the body of literature for people like me and, lo and behold, there are certain personality characteristics or rules that we tend to follow.  Some good, some bad.  The insights gleamed from this literature were, ironically, part of what allowed me to relax my strict rules regarding alcohol.   And it also helped me to develop new rules about my own behaviors.

I still like rules.  And I'm no longer embarassed.  Even if everyone knows.

First Impressions

Disclaimer: You can hash-tag some of what I'm writing about today as "FirstWorldProblems."  I'm fully aware.  : - )

I spent most of my first day at college playing Starcraft: Broodwar and sipping Brisk Ice Tea.  In other words, the perfect day for a loner.  For anyone out there geeky enough to care, I was a protoss man all the way. My initial strategy relied heavily on carriers, but then I switched to a ground attack 1 - 2 punch of Dark Templars and Dragoons.

 

For persons struggling with speech impediments, the mind can have a difficult time translating thoughts to words.  The imaginary line that flows from brain to voice is longer and more convoluted than for your typical person.  While I don't have a speech impediment, I feel there are areas where this same kind of disconnect exists.  

On the spectrum of loner <===> social or introvert <===> extrovert, I've consistently leaned towards the former as opposed to the latter.  But there's a disconnect from what I want to be and who I am.  My heart says, "Speak up, be involved, relax, have fun," but my mind and body lag behind.  Why?  It's not nearly as complicated as I once thought.  But it has taken me several years of deliberate thought and practice to discover.  The answer: Rules.  

Unlike this bold bird, I prefer to follow societal, ethical, and legal expectations and norms.  The great thing about rules is that they tell you how to act.  No thinking required!  I think one of the reasons I love sports is the clear guidelines for behavior.  Run fast, kick the ball, and try to win.  I can do that!  It's no wonder The Wizard of Oz is my favorite movie... Just follow that yellow brick road and all your questions will be answered.

There's no point hiding it, I like the idea of a society where we all tuck in our shirts, comb our hair, and walk on the right side of the sidewalks.  There, I said it, I am conventional and I don't care who knows it!  Have you ever seen a paragraph written about conventionality that used so many exclamation marks?!  

But what are the rules for a college party, "Have Fun?"  What does that mean?!

But more importantly, what about religion?  What about your thoughts about how God acts and how God thinks you're supposed to act?  

That's why I initially loved the United Methodist tradition.  Scripture, Tradition, Reason, and Experience are the four sources of authority for theological interpretation.  It's like playing baseball, run around and tag all four bases and you're home!  *Props to J. Starkey*  But what happens when the rules you thought were written in stone are instead written in chalk ... and all of a sudden it's raining?

Well, for one thing, you look for new rules!

New rules for social interactions are far easier to discover than new rules for theological interactions.  I'll explore both in my next post.

The Call

My life went off course when I felt a call from God to enter the ministry.

At least, that's what I thought at the time.  Not that my life was going off course, but instead that this experience, this sensation, this moment communicated a message from God, "Michael, I want you to be a United Methodist minister."

The moment felt like peace.  It felt like love.  It felt serene.  It was strange, surreal, and it scared the buh-jee-sus out of me.

It happened like this: I was driving home from church late one Wednesday evening.  I think it was summer... the summer of 2003.  South Tulsa was far enough away from the city that I could see stars shining in the dark night's sky.  At the time, I led the 6th and 7th grade Bible study class.  The group would spend 45 minutes in Bible study, dialogue, and push-ups (if you talked out of turn).  Then 45 minutes playing nationball, the greatest dodgeball game in existence.  I was 17 years old, about to start my senior year of high school.

When the last kid had been picked up, I got in my car and began the drive home.  I was only a half-mile down the road before I noticed something very peculiar... peace.  It was an unfamiliar tranquility.  So unfamiliar that I was frightened.  I looked around and said out loud, "Is this God?"  In my heart, I knew the answer to be yes.

As a lifelong United Methodist, I had only one frame of reference with which to interpret this experience -- the story of John Wesley and his strange heartburn.  This was a pivotal moment in Wesley's life when he claims to develop a new, fuller understanding about grace.  In my life, I interpreted this moment to be God's way of saying, "Would you like a job?"

Up until this point I had planned to make lots of money as an engineer of some sort, either chemical or computer.  I had always had a soft spot for missions.  But I didn't have a clear picture of how I was going to integrate missions into my life.  And I certainly didn't think it would be my full-time occupation.

Then this thing, this moment, this experience, this feeling happened.  And it changed everything.  

After talking with my mom, a church mentor, my pastor, and everyone under the sun, I felt confirmed that this feeling was a call to ministry.  

At first, I was worried that my folks would be disappointed if I didn't want to enter a lucrative field.  I had no idea what pastors made, but I was pretty sure it wasn't as much as an engineer.  But they were incredibly supportive and soon I was packing my bags for Oklahoma City University where I would begin my preparation for ministry as a religion major.  

This is a blog about me.  My story, my reflections, my journey.  It's self-indulgent, I know. 

I'm writing because I'm trying to make sense of where I am in life and how I got here.  There's some narrative that connects the past 8 years of my life, and I'm desperate to find it.  Like the boy in the car asking the night air if God is out there, I'm eager to make meaning of my experiences.  

Read if you're interested, comment if you'd like.  I hope if you know me, you'll learn something I was too shy to tell you.  And if you don't know me, I hope my story(s) help you make meaning in your life.  

Grace and Peace.