[+/-] Camp is Good

This last week was really good, on the whole. I was a counselor, but with senior campers this time, which is way easier and more fun. My campers were really cool, and I was more at ease than I've ever been as a counselor before. I screwed up a few things, but I was satisfied with my effort.

I really like it here. I'm becoming more aware of the centrality of community to Christianity (that is, being a disciple of Jesus). And I love community, and it's good for me. Often when I'm at camp I have a hard time remembering what my problem with Christianity is. Maybe if it could be like this all the time, I could really start to believe stuff (whatever "believe" means). Maybe my non-relationship with God wouldn't be much of a barrier. Or maybe even that would change.

I feel wistful.

I don't think a whole lot about my post-student life (I graduate this year), but sometimes it gets me really excited. I don't have a clue what I'm going to do next, but I think it could be awesome. I'm young and I currently have no desire to get married; my options are endless. I'll hopefully travel, as soon as I have some money and a place to go and maybe someone to go with. I could get a job that doesn't pay much but brings me joy. I could join a monastery. I could sell everything I have and give it to the poor. I could literally do that.

That's all I've got for now. Counseling is not very conducive to thinking about stuff. But I probably think too much anyway. (Too much or not enough? I'm never sure.) Maybe I'll write you something profound in a day or two.

[+/-] I Choose Love

I didn't spend a lot of time on the discipleship thing this week. I was on maintenance, which is way more work than chore boying, because there's always another job that can be done. Harry Potter took up all my free time. This next week, by the way, I'll be counseling a teen camp. Prayers are appreciated.

So here's something that struck me recently. For some reason I got thinking about an episode of Adventures in Odyssey (a childrens' audio drama by Focus on the Family, which I listened to constantly as a kid). There's this one where a young guy's about to make the very great mistake of marrying a non-Christian, and the gravity of the situation is driven home by the sad story of his wise and elderly friend, who, it is revealed, had a non-Christian wife in his youth.

I think I'd always been told that Christians shouldn't marry non-Christians because their differing beliefs will be a barrier to intimacy and unity, strain the relationship, and cause disagreements about how the kids should be raised. Intriguingly, none of these concerns were addressed by the Odyssey episode. Instead, it emphasized the intense pain that Jack experienced on behalf of his dearly loved, deceased, and (as far as he knew) unsaved wife, who in all probability was already burning in hell.

It struck me that the implicit message here is, don't love non-Christians too much. Don't care too much about them. Don't feel for them too much of what God feels. Don't understand too deeply their immeasurable, inherent value, because if you do, and they die unsaved, you will see too clearly the incomparable tragedy and horror of hell, and it will break you.

This brings to light a very serious problem with (a certain kind of) Christianity: it both demands that we believe the majority of humanity will suffer eternally, and exhorts us to love others to the greatest degree of which we are capable. If we do both these things well, we are setting ourselves up for unparalleled and (I suspect) utterly crippling, destructive sorrow.

Immediately I can see two (and only two) solutions to this problem. Either we must refuse to believe in hell, or we must moderate our love. I choose not to believe in hell. (This is a more popular solution than you might think - many Christians claim to believe in hell but in reality do not, because they do not permit themselves to think about what they "believe", or allow it to affect their actions.) Focus on the Family (implicitly) recommends the other solution - that we not allow ourselves to care too deeply for those whom we believe will suffer eternally.

I choose to love, therefore I cannot believe in hell. I don't mean to say that I love greatly - if you are underwhelmed with my love, I assure you I am as well - but I love enough that I recoil from the idea of hell. I cannot accept it. Others may have stronger hearts, which can love more deeply before hell crushes them, but I don't believe any heart could survive loving to its utmost ability and believing in hell.

You can call me weak, or cowardly, or naive. I suppose I'm all of those things. But whatever my failings I want, more than anything, to love. I will pursue this zealously. And if my religion hinders me, I know what must be done. I will not be moderate. I will not make compromises.

I choose love, and for this I will not apologize.