"The Enduring Truths of Christian Radio"

Dear friends,

Today, I learned how to cook meth and how to render a genitive absolute with a concessive function. Today, I learned that tuna does not come from dolphins, and I learned that slavery in North America was born not in racism, but in greed. Today I pet a rat on my kitchen table and learned that the process of importing Africans into North America brought about the death of the African gods.

Today, I spent my day at divinity school.

Roughly 5 years ago, I sat in a green-backed chair and drank a cup of coffee brewed from concentrated-coffee-water and told my AP that it sure would be nice to be a biblical scholar. Then I ate the rest of my english muffin and made small talk about Rob Bell.

If you are unfamiliar with contemporary Christian parlance, an AP is an Accountability Partner. APs go out for coffee and talk about lust. Or just sin and failure in general. Contemporary Christians LOVE this because they are given an opportunity to sit around and say things like: "Last night, the Accuser threw a real thorn in my path."

As a freshman at a Christian college, I loved this, too. I had no frame of reference for what it meant to talk about the Israelites (until someone recommended that I watch the Prince of Egypt), and I'd never heard of Ananias and Sapphira, and I didn't know that the Gospels were written after Paul's epistles, but I had a vague sense that it was important for me to read my Good News Bible and to heed the verses that I had double-underlined. I also had a vague idea that my biblical knowledge was lacking, so I remarked flippantly: "It'd sure be nice to be a biblical scholar. It sure would be nice to know the answers to all these questions."

And later that day, I slept through chapel.

Today, however, I did not sleep through chapel. I sat in chapel and analyzed the planning of the worship service and the efficacy of the sermon delivered. Today, I spent the second Thursday of my second year mastering divinity. I sat amongst Christians and made small talk not about Rob Bell or lust or my personal devotions, but rather used words like 'pejorative' and phrases like 'adjectival use of the participle,' and at times I even pretended I was doing the work of a biblical scholar. That is, until I went home and watched a television show about drugs and thugs.

Why am I pondering this progression of events?

Probably because I am an arrogant son-of-a-bitch. And pretentious to boot. Only a graduate student would spend their time narcissistically reflecting on the second Thursday of her second year of mastering divinity. [For a derogatory but humorous representation of grad students, click here-->http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XViCOAu6UC0.]

But beyond these endearing qualities of mine, I am reflecting on this progression of events because I have been trying to take the providence of God seriously these days. I have been trying to really believe that God has and does take a divine hand in my life.

I was listening to Christian radio in my car today, as is my habit (I am repeatedly drawn toward bad movies, bad books, and bad radio), and the announcer told one of those cute, silly stories about kids that is supposed to convince you that God is real and good and true for everyone. Apparently her son was playing on the playground equipment in Chick-Fil-A and while in a green, plastic tunnel, he started yelling, "WHERE ARE YOU, GOD? WHERE ARE YOU, GOD? WHERE ARE YOU?" The mother-turned-radio-announcer stepped out of the backdrop of the other moms, who probably just wanted to tell the kid that God was dead and he'd better just shut up and eat his nuggets, and she yelled, "GOD'S IN THE TUNNEL WITH YOU, BUDDY! HE'S IN THERE! GOD IS EVERYWHERE!"

If I had been in that Chick-Fil-A, this exchange probably would have been the highlight of my month. It would have been like Chicken Soup for the Christian Soul had just occurred while I had sat there eating my waffle fries.

But I was not there. And besides being a little repulsed by the evangelical-ness of it all, I think that the happy-Christian-mother-and-son-duo embody some of the most basic realities of a Christian's existence.

We cry out to God.

"Please, God, I do not want to work at the Chinese or the Dutch restaurant again. Please give me a future. Where are you, God?"

"Please, God, give me a spirit of prayer and a heart for you. Where are you, God?"

"Please, God, I enjoy none of this, where are you, God?"

Maybe we just feel a little too alone inside the green, plastic tunnel. And we forget that we need not blindly grope about for a God who has toes and plans and veins and love because this God who has toes and love is all the while groping about for us. We get a little panicky, wanting to touch this God and know this God to be there. We forget that "God's in the tunnel with you, buddy."

I imagine that although this all sounds a little magical and dumb and over-the-top--although it smacks a little of all these things--this simple idea is also profoundly true for those who are and who are to be ushered into the fold of salvation.

God is everywhere. God is in our kicking off of the sheets and God is in our flipping off of terrible drivers and God is in our baking of banana muffins and God is in our everything. We crawl around and we yell and we murmur and we pray, and God swirls us around in providence.

I am in divinity school because God is everywhere and because God has toes and love and is in my everything.

Best,

Sara