Philip’s Tunnel to Nowhere 3

Bushnell, IL - I’m taking advantage of the wifi provided by First Baptist Church of Bushnell to check in for a few moments.   I’ll have lots of reflections and processing that I’ll try to document here as appropriate.  For now I just want to share this thought.

On the drive here I was wondering why on earth I needed to go to C’stone.  There are probably several reasons, but the real reason I’m here is to learn how very little I matter.   I sincerely mean that.   So much of my past motivation for some sort of underground ministry thing has been to provide an object for my personal quest for meaning, to find “my thing.”   And more and more I’m being reminded that my presence just doesn’t matter.   What I mean is, some of the same growth in certain directions that needed to happen five years ago, before I started wandering in the wilderness so to speak, has actually happened.   While I was sitting on the sidelines, it happened!   And that’s a very good thing.

If God wants my role in all this to be sitting on the sidelines clapping and encouraging, then I really need to be content and to take on that role with all my heart.   Only as I accept my own smallness can I effectively tell the story of God’s greatness.

I’ve known seasons of spiritual desolation and of distance from God — mercifully, short ones — and I don’t think either description is accurate for where I am right now.   I don’t feel far from God.   I guess I’d call my present phase one of mediocre closeness to God.

Supposedly if you’re really doing the Christian thing right, if your time spent reading the Bible is filled with the Holy Spirit, then each day is supposed to be filled with new revelations and insights.  At least, that’s how I infer it’s supposed to work from how wiser people talk about Scripture.   That’s not how it’s working for me right now, though.   I really am trying very hard to devote time daily to prayer and Scripture — no, that’s not a legalistic thing in which to pride myself, and besides, 5 minutes a day is not much worthy of boasting about anyway, but sometimes you need quasi-legastic guideposts to lead you to do what deep down you really want to do, but don’t feel like.   Well, I need those.

At any rate, so I don’t really feel depressed or distant from God these days.   It’s just been…. well, a really really long time since I’ve had any sort of Bible study that didn’t just feel like a cursory reading of the text.  My pray life seems more fruitful, but even then on occasion it feels like it degenerates into reading out a laundry list.   The real battle, in both spiritual disciplines, is to keep my brain on topic.  I really don’t feel like there’s a lot of guidance out there for ADHD followers of Jesus to know what we’re supposed to be doing.   Should I be painting pictures or writing songs as an act of worship instead of trying to keep my mind on prayer for five minutes straight?   I’m serious!   Sort of.   I’m sure there are spiritually mature Christians who are ADHD, but I just don’t happen to know who they are offhand.   If I did, I’m sure it would be helpful to compare notes to know what I’m supposed to be doing.

Maybe I’m just thinking too hard about a whole lot of nothing.   Maybe God just wants me to be who I am and try to learn more about him, and whatever sticks, sticks.   I really don’t want to be a know-it-all, because the Gospel of grace really is so far beyond my comprehension that it’s absurd to say I already know it.  But… theologically speaking, the novelty, the surprise just isn’t there really.  Maybe it’s OK that it’s not.

I don’t think it’s as simple as just finding new study resources, but at least in the age of the Internet we have access to all kinds of helpful stuff.   I do a lot of walking and can always use thought-provoking mp3s.  John Piper’s Desiring God audio archives appear to have a lot of good stuff.  Nothing too revolutionary as I probably should have been listening to this, and sermons and stuff, a long time ago.

As for outreach stuff, I haven’t put a whole lot of thought into it lately.   What little bit I have surrounded a visit to — don’t laugh! — a suburban shopping mall to get me thinking about where younger people outside the urban core are hanging out.   Maybe one day I’ll talk more about that.   Cornerstone is coming up in two weeks.   I’m not all that excited — right now driving up there feels more like a chore, frankly — but I’m sure once I get there I’ll be all inspired about outreachy stuff for a week or two, and then settle back into my routine and on we go.

To my utter embarrassment, I wrote the following one Sunday afternoon a few weeks back and never posted it up here as intended.  I’ll  just leave it unfinished.

Somerville, TN — Today i finally got around to something i’d been wanting to do for a while: driving out to the seat of one of the counties surrounding Memphis, wandering around the courthouse square, and just basically getting to know someplace outside my daily millieu.

Somerville’s downtown sort of typifies the sleepy Southern town center.  I’m sure being here on the Sunday before Memorial Day only heightens the effect, but i’ll just bet this place seems pretty sleepy the other weekends too.  There are some little shops that look like they function during the work week: antiques, hardware, furniture.   There are the lawyer’s offices, the insurance and real estate agents, a portrait gallery, the community newspaper, the county job center.   And then there are an awful lot of closed up retail spaces, too, with their “For rent” signs.   One little shop, long since cleared out, has a sticker in the door advertising fine soaps from Crabtree and Evelyn.

I’m left thinking about how our country has pretty much abandoned the town center.   (To be sure, you could find plenty of abandoned storefront in Memphis too; I’m in no way asserting this is only true of hinterland towns, although at least Memphis’ downtown functions, barely, on the weekends.)   It’s hardly a new observation, of course, but little places like this just aren’t central to life the way they once were, not unless you have a hearing scheduled or want to get your portrait done.   I’m conflicted between lamenting this loss and stoicly asserting, “It is what it is,” time marches on, no one can stand in the way of progress.   Certainly the Wal-Mart down the road will take care of your needs on the Sunday before Memorial Day, and cheaply!, so there’s no need to wait until Monday to visit one of these little shops.   Save money.   Live better.

But seeing these abandoned storefronts also rekindles some of the thoughts I discussed earlier, about creating a space full of meaning to young people, of feeling bold enough to dream that we could change our environment for the better.   In the context of some daydreaming induced by a recent conversation with my insanely successful poker buddy, it gets me thinking: Supposing cost were no barrier, how could someone use one of these spaces to really bless a town like this?   What sort of enterprise could help rebuild a sense of community?

I really don’t know.   A non-profit youth hangout/drop-in center?  An arts and performance space?   A coffee shop?    A highly-regarded restaurant that could draw customers from Memphis, Nashville, and points beyond?   Or should we just accept that small-

What would be a career path for someone who wants to study youth culture (and especially subcultures) as an academic with the goal of informing the church to help it communicate the Gospel?

I’d love to hear anyone else’s thoughts.   I don’t know that anyone has “the” answer specifically, but i’m sure many people have information that will help me find that answer.

As I spend time processing the profound disappointment that has been my life through Year 36, and hopefully getting better and wiser at doing so, i find that my prayers need to get simpler.   It’s way too tempting to try thinking really hard about The Big Picture, which leads me to approach God with cynicism and bitterness, a feeling that i was given gifts for no purpose.   It’s far better to cultivate a childlike faith, to just ask for stuff without stopping to make a jaded assessment of how likely such faith is to be rewarded.

O God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, God, pleasegivemesignificance, amen.

Last week I was driving in from East Memphis on Poplar and saw some kids walking by the side of the road.   Because of some experiences with this community in Boston and (believe it or not) Huntsville, my brain parsed the scene and decided they were the sort of young people who hop trains in going from place to place.   I kept driving for maybe half a mile debating whether to turn around and try to make contact with them, finally decided to do so, and did two U-turns so that I could stop on the westbound side and talk to them.

My intuition was correct.   They told me that they were planning to catch trains to Louisville for some reason.   I wasn’t terribly helpful in directing them to the appropriate railyard, but I had been driving home from the supermarket so I did give them a loaf of bread and a package of cheese.   That seemed to be helpful.

It would be interesting to know how many of these folks pass through Memphis.   Given the number of freight rail lines through here, I’d imagine it’s a bunch.

I feel remiss because I never bothered to mention hanging out in Iowa with some people from The Asylum over the weekend April 17-19.   It was enjoyable to see some old friends and acquaintances and make some new ones.

I have no idea if I’ll make it to Cornerstone, which is the de facto annual minimal requirement for staying connected to this network of people.   Part of me feels like it’s a waste if I don’t get my self-image on sound footing.    I’ll certainly consider going.

I’m less than a week away from officially conceding defeat in yet another chapter in my life.   So far defeat seems to be the greatest unifying theme about me.    I’m trying very very hard not to spiral down into yet another cycle of despondency.   I keep reminding myself that as an ostensible Christian I’m to cherish the myth that God has amazing things in store for my life around the next corner.   I’m thoroughly convinced that’s little more than self-deception, but maybe it’s helpful self-deception so that I can keep plowing through.

I’ve sort of a bizarre follow-up to our last installment about blighted buildings.   Last week I happened to be checking out Memphis’ newest music venue, walking in from the parking lot.  I didn’t really notice the demolition site across the street until the sudden din caused by a 15 meter square chunk from the corner of an eight-story building tumbling to the ground!   And then it dawned on me that this was one of the buildings I happened to be praying for, the one on Madison and Willett.

I’m not going so far as to say that the demolition was a direct answer to prayer — I’m sure it was scheduled for months — but I’m quite sure that God arranged that little coincidence of me being there at that time to remind me that those prayers matter.   If you’ve never seen part of a large building destroyed across the street, I highly recommend it.   I have no idea what they’re going to do with the site.   For all I know, it could be part of the same project as the music venue.   In any case, I now feel even more invested for praying that the owners/developers would consider whatever project will have the most positive effect on Midtown and on Memphis as a whole.

Lately as I’ve wandered around Memphis, I’ve been thinking a lot about certain visible signs of decay that are present in cities.  Although broken windows theory has its limitations, it certainly seems hard to dispute that hulking unused buildings leave an impression of a city in disrepair.

I’ve decided to make a commitment to pray for the following rather large buildings that I’ve noticed around Memphis: 

• The Hotel Chisca at 272 South Main (see here and scroll to the bottom; this pdf isn’t working for me)
• A blockish building on Madison and Pauline that may be part of what Baptist Hospital left in its wake when it left the area.
• Another blockish building farther down Madison, somewhere between McNeil and Belvedere, which is apparently for lease but still looks awfully underutilized.
• The immense Sears building at 495 N. Watkins - when I was in Methodist Hospital, my 7th floor room in University Tower had a great view of this building.