Another One Hits the Wall Hard
I saw that controversial musical artist Amy Winehouse was found dead in her London apartment. One thing that struck me about it was that she died at 27, the same age as my oldest son. I really didn't pay attention to much of what she did except that she was extradordinarily popular and she did some crazy stuff in some of her concerts.
This happened as I was polishing my latest webzine feature, yet another letter to a college student. I'd already written a few letters and published them, but I just haven't been pleased so far. I'm still not fully satisfied with the latest, even though I think this one hits closest to where young adults are. But I'm feeling much like most young adults do, which relates to why so many young adults are wrecklessly careening about with their lives, which is wrapped up in one profoundly insightful declaration I heard from one:
"I want to keep talking until I know what I want to say."
The reason I spend so much time blogging and webzining -- not a whole lot unlike most people -- is that my state of existence is a bit more like this:
"I already know what I want to say, I just want to keep talking until I know how to say it."
What is it I want to say? What exactly is that?
That Jesus Christ is the Only Answer. It is not any of the World's pathetic concoctions shoved in people's faces and gleefully schlurped up.
That highly-paid dutifully-sworn skillfully-trained operatives work the System to keep people in their deceit and wickedness, and it always looks so inviting. Often it looks just like the most smiley compelling Jesus character.
That it isn't just people like Amy Winehouse who are captivated by it all -- her anti-Christs ultimately cost her her life. Millions and millions of young people are seduced into remaining mired in their own wretchedness, and they scratch and claw at trying to find what they know is truthful or joyous or gracious or merciful or meaningful or truly really actually fulfilling.
That all they come across is more of the slop the Jesuits spill into their feeding troughs, just with different flavors each month.
What college students and the Amy Whitehouse's of the world need are those who belong to Christ.
No, they are not the typical "Christians" because too many of them are just sanctimonious Catholicized smartasses. Young people use their shit-detectors most proficiently to see this and spend their lives making a cross with their fingers at arms length in front of their faces to fend them off.
What they need are Jesuses with skin.
Yes, I confess I'm not a Jesus with skin to them now. Not in cyberspace. I can share a word or two here, but even the most eloquent 57th attempt at a "Letter to a College Student" from waaay over here at my desk doesn't really help much.
What anyone needs is someone who knows the life-saving power and strength, joy and wonder, beauty and glory of Christ, and who can share that with them in a bountifully self-sacrificial way.
That's it. What hurts is that anything I say will never connect with the World-maintained contraption that so many have installed in their souls. The young adult dismisses anything said after two or three words, and it isn't even as though I'm speaking Greek. It is more I'm swearing in Greek, so it isn't even that it isn't understandable, but that it is filled with the most offensively foul expletives.
And it isn't just me. I'm not that foolishly arrogant. I don't give a rip if it is or isn't me saying it.
Just any Jesus with skin
Who loves with His love.
This happened as I was polishing my latest webzine feature, yet another letter to a college student. I'd already written a few letters and published them, but I just haven't been pleased so far. I'm still not fully satisfied with the latest, even though I think this one hits closest to where young adults are. But I'm feeling much like most young adults do, which relates to why so many young adults are wrecklessly careening about with their lives, which is wrapped up in one profoundly insightful declaration I heard from one:
"I want to keep talking until I know what I want to say."
The reason I spend so much time blogging and webzining -- not a whole lot unlike most people -- is that my state of existence is a bit more like this:
"I already know what I want to say, I just want to keep talking until I know how to say it."
What is it I want to say? What exactly is that?
That Jesus Christ is the Only Answer. It is not any of the World's pathetic concoctions shoved in people's faces and gleefully schlurped up.
That highly-paid dutifully-sworn skillfully-trained operatives work the System to keep people in their deceit and wickedness, and it always looks so inviting. Often it looks just like the most smiley compelling Jesus character.
That it isn't just people like Amy Winehouse who are captivated by it all -- her anti-Christs ultimately cost her her life. Millions and millions of young people are seduced into remaining mired in their own wretchedness, and they scratch and claw at trying to find what they know is truthful or joyous or gracious or merciful or meaningful or truly really actually fulfilling.
That all they come across is more of the slop the Jesuits spill into their feeding troughs, just with different flavors each month.
What college students and the Amy Whitehouse's of the world need are those who belong to Christ.
No, they are not the typical "Christians" because too many of them are just sanctimonious Catholicized smartasses. Young people use their shit-detectors most proficiently to see this and spend their lives making a cross with their fingers at arms length in front of their faces to fend them off.
What they need are Jesuses with skin.
Yes, I confess I'm not a Jesus with skin to them now. Not in cyberspace. I can share a word or two here, but even the most eloquent 57th attempt at a "Letter to a College Student" from waaay over here at my desk doesn't really help much.
What anyone needs is someone who knows the life-saving power and strength, joy and wonder, beauty and glory of Christ, and who can share that with them in a bountifully self-sacrificial way.
That's it. What hurts is that anything I say will never connect with the World-maintained contraption that so many have installed in their souls. The young adult dismisses anything said after two or three words, and it isn't even as though I'm speaking Greek. It is more I'm swearing in Greek, so it isn't even that it isn't understandable, but that it is filled with the most offensively foul expletives.
And it isn't just me. I'm not that foolishly arrogant. I don't give a rip if it is or isn't me saying it.
Just any Jesus with skin
Who loves with His love.
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