I am not 'Born Again'

Have you been born again? I have been asked this directly a few times in my life. After some thought about what it means to be reborn, what it means to the inquirer especially, I have to answer honestly.

No. I am not 'born again.'

I've always struggles with the 'born again' concept. It always seemed strange to me. I don't consider myself 'born again' because I felt like I have never left God's presence.

I was born and raised the son of a minister. I was always a Christian and have always been in a relationship with God. When I did my confession of faith and baptism as a young teen, it felt contrived and I kinda felt like a fraud of some sort. After all, I had had no great revelation, no straying out of God's presence, no great prodigal return so I just didn't understand what the big deal was. It was like going through an initiation to a fraternity you have been an active member of for years.

As I became an adult, I met many people who were 'born again,' who had been apart from God's presence and suddenly returned with fireworks and a heavenly host singing glory to God in the highest. Frankly I was kind of jealous. What were they getting out of this that I wasn't? How could they have such a wonderful soul lifting experience having just met Christ while I was on this seemingly humdrum relationship where I could walk into God's kitchen and grab a soda from his fridge and watch TV with him on the couch?

I definitely understood the feelings of the non-prodigal son watching the great party thrown for the returned brother especially when people hung on his every word telling of the adventures of his party-boy lifestyle.

What the Bible story doesn't tell us is what happened a year after the homecoming. I probably could predict it from watching so many 'born agains' come to terms with their new life. Where was the next big party?

When the streamers are taken down and the cake is all eaten, the new Christian settles into the normality of bake sales, Sunday school teaching, committee work, arguments about the mission budget and organizing the chili supper. A dis-satisfaction sets in and they soon start focusing on where their next 'born again' high is going to come from.

Not satisfied with sitting on the couch watching TV with God, they want to start redecorating the many rooms of his mansion. Let's add a new grotto swimming pool or host a great revival party.

I am offended by the implication by 'born agains' today that if you are not a 'born again' Christian, you are not really a Christian. Yeah, yeah Jesus died for our sins, that's great. But have you gotten to the part about where he fed the hungry and blessed the poor? Have you thought about what Paul is really trying to tell us, something that theologians have been contemplating for 2000 years? Have you heard that it was considered a sin to earn interest from a loan?

I'm wondering why God had Hosea marry a whore and what His promise to the meek really meant. Jesus has been my Savior since I first learned the song Jesus Loves Me This I Know.
 
There are some people who really do experience a rebirth into a relationship with God. And I celebrate with them. But too many prodigal sons enjoy being prodigal sons and always need another homecoming. But worse than that, they belittle us non-prodigals who never felt the need to leave in the first place.

I'm happy to not be 'born again' because I realize my relationship with God is so deep and  unwavering that no party can exceed the day to day presence of him in my life.

That was a great welcome home party we had for you last night... now grab a broom and help us clean up the place.

Marching Band vs Still Small Voice

The marching band has kept me away from here. It may again in the future. Even long after it passed, the cymbals crash in the ears, the trumpets echo and the flutes pierce through. Even when I tried to return to my own voice, all that came out was crap, a cacophony of the marching band now without even a tune to make it coherent.

What I'm saying is that the noise keeps us from focusing on that still small voice whispering in our ear and until we can shut out the sounds of life, we can't even begin to hear what God is saying to us.

Late in life I found that I have a severe case of ADD, predominantly inattentive type. Its the type common to dogs whose focus can change in a moment by the sighting of a squirrel. Unlike the hyperactive type, mine doesn't even contain the energy that would at least keep me moving. I've coped reasonably well most of my life, but then the noise begins and I become a ship on the stormy waters.

I find writing to be rewarding, but distractions abound. Even when I intentionally find the quiet, I am often distracted by something.

Temptation? Lack of discipline? The chemical imbalances in my brain? The delta state brain waves that persist in my waking life?

Or is it something more insidious?

I've never quite come to terms about the literal existence of the devil and his demons. Sometimes their existence seems obvious. Sometimes I feel its just an easy excuse to rationalize bad behavior.

I could easily say the devil is putting temptations in my way to distract me from my writing, from my taking care of my physical self, from socializing with friends and relatives, even from cleaning house and doing laundry. But then I wonder shouldn't God be enabling me to resist better than I do?

Maybe I just am not praying sufficiently. Except I don't think God is as hard of hearing as we humans are. I believe God knows my heart better than I and hears even the smallest thought I send to him.

I know I need the marching band sometimes, perhaps especially now when I'm still recovering from the abusive trauma from work. But I think I should be doing something more productive once it passes rather than waiting in anticipation for the next parade coming down the street.