while creation slept
Four years later, the impact of Sept. 11 is still visible, although not as much as before. I was going to write about my thoughts on 9.11 given that today is the anniversary, but I think I'm going to save that for now. Maybe I'll write about it later today or maybe tomorrow. It's an important day for me; I think it's shaped who I am today and had some lasting effects on my life. But I'll save it.
Instead, I think I'll talk about a magazine article I read today. It made me cry.
About a year ago, a man named John Sullivan travelled by RV to Creation, in Mt. Union. His assignment, handed out by Gentlemen's Quarterly magazine, was to cover the Christian music festival; live there for a few days and share his thoughts. The article he ended up writing was, I believe, a living testament to Christ and his people.
Let there be no doubt, Sullivan takes some strong shots at Christianity and the Christian-rock music scene, but the sad truth is, he's right more often than he's wrong. He talks about how the Christian music scene is largely a collection of secular-band sound-a-likes and while I can't directly translate all of the ways in which he makes his point, he's dead on.
He also has some hard-hitting words about Evangelicals and the church in general that definately touched a nerve with me.
While at Creation, he meets six guys from West Virginia. They are introduced as Sullivan's RV is about to roll backwards down a steep slope before these six guys help him push it up the hill to safety. Instantly, a connection is made. That isn't to say that Sullivan is not above initially be skeptical of these guys. But from the start, he knows there's something different about them.
Over the next two days, they spend much time together, most of it around the camp fire. They play guitars and share histories. The guys from West Virginia are avid hunters and men of the land; they are rough around the edges and have known violence and drugs in their life. They don't try to hide this from their new friend, Sullivan.
The young men offer their theories on Christ and life and invite Sullivan into their group. They guide him around the Creation festival, where Sullivan makes pretty sharp observations about the things he's seeing (ie the commercial viability of the Christian world; the different ways in which Christians today dress and act, etc).
Sullivan writes about the guys but also about his past. He had a Christian phase in high school. He was a leader and a speaker and was on fire for Christ. While he doesn't directly talk about leaving the church, he talks about how his faith was eventually caught up to by his doubts and questions.
But unlike so many of these jaded stories, the Christians in Sullivan's life weren't judgemental people. They were loving and accepted his breaking away with love and hugs. They wished him way and promised to pray for him. He's sure that some of them still are.
But as the story progresses, something takes over...the spirit of God, I guess. As Creation continues, Sullivan and the six men from West Virginia continue to grow together, making a tiny community in the pastures of Huntingdon County. There are wild stories about frying frog legs and tying friends up to trees. There are many a late night conversation about everything.
And on the final day together, they prepare for a Creation ritual---the lighting of the candles. Everyone gathers in front of the stage, on the hill, and lights a candle. The candles are then blown out simultaneously. Sullivan decides to watch everything from a lookout point, high above the Agape farm.
As these new friends part for the final time, one of the men, Darius, who by now has figured out that Sullivan is a writer, has just one request.
"Hey man, if you write about us, can I just ask one thing?" he asked Sullivan.
"Of course," Sullivan responded.
"Put in there that we love God," he said. "You can say we're crazy but say that we love God."
That's the part in the story, some 20 pages into the longest piece ever published in GQ, that I started to cry uncontrollably.
Sullivan continues (as he stands atop the hill looking down on the thousands of lit candles):
" I thought of Darius, Jake, Josh, Bub, Ritter, and Pee Wee (the boys from WV), whom I doubted I would ever see again, whom I'd come to love, and who loved God--for it's true, I would have said it even if Darius hadn't asked me to, it may be the truest things I will have written here. They were crazy, and they loved God--and I thought about the unimpeachable dignity of that love, which I never was capable of. Because knowing it isn't true doesn't mean you would be strong enough to believe if it were. Six of those glowing specks in the valley were theirs."
The title of this blog is also a link to the story. It will take a long time to read, but if you have time, I think you should. This guy is not a champion of all things Christian, and his words won't all jibe with what we believe. But what you'll see in this piece is six guys from West Virginia loving a stranger; and a stranger loving them in return. And it's almost as if you can actually see some tangible force of Christ being transposed from their body to his, some spirit that says this is exactly how the doubting soul will be set free.
Instead, I think I'll talk about a magazine article I read today. It made me cry.
About a year ago, a man named John Sullivan travelled by RV to Creation, in Mt. Union. His assignment, handed out by Gentlemen's Quarterly magazine, was to cover the Christian music festival; live there for a few days and share his thoughts. The article he ended up writing was, I believe, a living testament to Christ and his people.
Let there be no doubt, Sullivan takes some strong shots at Christianity and the Christian-rock music scene, but the sad truth is, he's right more often than he's wrong. He talks about how the Christian music scene is largely a collection of secular-band sound-a-likes and while I can't directly translate all of the ways in which he makes his point, he's dead on.
He also has some hard-hitting words about Evangelicals and the church in general that definately touched a nerve with me.
While at Creation, he meets six guys from West Virginia. They are introduced as Sullivan's RV is about to roll backwards down a steep slope before these six guys help him push it up the hill to safety. Instantly, a connection is made. That isn't to say that Sullivan is not above initially be skeptical of these guys. But from the start, he knows there's something different about them.
Over the next two days, they spend much time together, most of it around the camp fire. They play guitars and share histories. The guys from West Virginia are avid hunters and men of the land; they are rough around the edges and have known violence and drugs in their life. They don't try to hide this from their new friend, Sullivan.
The young men offer their theories on Christ and life and invite Sullivan into their group. They guide him around the Creation festival, where Sullivan makes pretty sharp observations about the things he's seeing (ie the commercial viability of the Christian world; the different ways in which Christians today dress and act, etc).
Sullivan writes about the guys but also about his past. He had a Christian phase in high school. He was a leader and a speaker and was on fire for Christ. While he doesn't directly talk about leaving the church, he talks about how his faith was eventually caught up to by his doubts and questions.
But unlike so many of these jaded stories, the Christians in Sullivan's life weren't judgemental people. They were loving and accepted his breaking away with love and hugs. They wished him way and promised to pray for him. He's sure that some of them still are.
But as the story progresses, something takes over...the spirit of God, I guess. As Creation continues, Sullivan and the six men from West Virginia continue to grow together, making a tiny community in the pastures of Huntingdon County. There are wild stories about frying frog legs and tying friends up to trees. There are many a late night conversation about everything.
And on the final day together, they prepare for a Creation ritual---the lighting of the candles. Everyone gathers in front of the stage, on the hill, and lights a candle. The candles are then blown out simultaneously. Sullivan decides to watch everything from a lookout point, high above the Agape farm.
As these new friends part for the final time, one of the men, Darius, who by now has figured out that Sullivan is a writer, has just one request.
"Hey man, if you write about us, can I just ask one thing?" he asked Sullivan.
"Of course," Sullivan responded.
"Put in there that we love God," he said. "You can say we're crazy but say that we love God."
That's the part in the story, some 20 pages into the longest piece ever published in GQ, that I started to cry uncontrollably.
Sullivan continues (as he stands atop the hill looking down on the thousands of lit candles):
" I thought of Darius, Jake, Josh, Bub, Ritter, and Pee Wee (the boys from WV), whom I doubted I would ever see again, whom I'd come to love, and who loved God--for it's true, I would have said it even if Darius hadn't asked me to, it may be the truest things I will have written here. They were crazy, and they loved God--and I thought about the unimpeachable dignity of that love, which I never was capable of. Because knowing it isn't true doesn't mean you would be strong enough to believe if it were. Six of those glowing specks in the valley were theirs."
The title of this blog is also a link to the story. It will take a long time to read, but if you have time, I think you should. This guy is not a champion of all things Christian, and his words won't all jibe with what we believe. But what you'll see in this piece is six guys from West Virginia loving a stranger; and a stranger loving them in return. And it's almost as if you can actually see some tangible force of Christ being transposed from their body to his, some spirit that says this is exactly how the doubting soul will be set free.
posted by gabe at
9:55 AM
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