The Flake

"I will not serve that in which I no longer believe whether it call itself my home, my fatherland or my church: and I will try to express myself in some mode of life or art as freely as I can and as wholly as I can, using for my defence the only arms I allow myself to use -- silence, exile, and cunning." -- Stephen Dedalus in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.

The ever-reliable Urban Dictionary website defines a flaky person as one who is "unreliable." Unreliability infers that a social contract was agreed upon between two parties with one of the parties failing to adhere to all it's requirements. This doesn't happen just once for an unreliable party, but multiple times.

Now, when we think of an unreliable individual, we usually think of their external unreliability -- their blatant disregard for an understood or physical social contract. But in the case of Stephen Dedalus, he breaks the internal contract between his heart and his mind. Throughout his life, from childhood to young adulthood (the end of the book), his mind drafts passionate contracts between itself and the heart . Over and over, they bind with an ideal, only for the eventual rupture of the contract.

We see him consumed with his father's nationalistic pride, yet we see him overtly rejecting nationalism. We see his religious fervor, yet we see his denial of God in his trouncing of the priestly order. Both his adherence to nationalism and religion, and his subsequent rejections of both, show his renunciation of his familial ideals. As the quote above says, he will no longer serve that which he does not believe -- home, country, church. The expression of himself will no longer rely upon those three contracts. His new contract is toward "unfettered freedom," which he believes to be obtainable through "silence, exile, and cunning."

From this point on, we do not know if Stephen finds satisfaction in this new contract. The book pretty much ends with the quote above. But what we do know is this: each contract was made with the assumption that its contents were true. Stephen believed that as the mind and heart were in harmony with its current perception of truth, then the eternal soul would be at peace.

Not too long ago, a person I love (cough mom cough) called me a flake. Her assertion might cause vitriol for some, especially in light of Stephen's flakiness, but I knew she was right. She has called me that before, along with other people, but after this most recent comment, I decided to spend some time reflecting upon it.

During this reflective season, I began reading the Songs of Ascent (Psalm 120-134) in a book/bible study with Wonder Voyage. We are examining each Psalm through the lens of Eugene Peterson's A Long Obedience in the Same Direction.

Psalm 121 is a Psalm we hear referenced in many worship songs: "I look up to the mountains / does my strength come from mountains? / No, my strength comes for God, / who made heaven, and earth, and mountains." Peterson's The Message makes an interesting distinction that is not found in the translation I usually read (NASB). The NASB reads as follows: "I will lift up my eyes to the mountains; / From where shall my help come? / My help comes from the LORD / Who made heaven and earth."


When I initially heard or read Psalm 121, I never viewed the Psalmist's response to his own question as a negative, like Peterson does with his use of "no" in is answer. The first two lines did not seem to be exclusive to me. They seemed inclusive. When the Psalmist finds his help and strength in God, the creator, I assumed he recognized God's help through the Romans 1 model of knowing God through his created nature. 


But Peterson brings to light an important historical note about pagan worship during the author's time to bring clarity to the Psalm:


"Much of this religion was practiced on hilltops. Shrines were set up, groves of trees were planted, sacred prostitutes both male and female were provided; persons were lured to the shrines to engage in acts of worship that would enhance the fertility of the land, would make you feel good, would protect you from evil."


His insertion of the word "no" causes us to orient ourselves back to God. The word "no" tears the gaze of our eyes from the instantaneous strength and help promised by the pagans onto the actual Creator, as the Psalmist later sings, who actually "guards your very life / he guards you when you leave and when you return, / he guards you now, he guards you always."


I find myself, in my flaky nature, always looking up to the mountains for help. I hope that through some new theological discovery, my soul will find the peace it is always looking for. My intellectual and spiritual curiosity has led me from the likes of Miller and Driscoll, to Lewis and Bonhoeffer, to Merton and Manning, to Peterson and etc....


But where is the Lord, the one who gives strength and help to those who ask?


I, in no way, recommend myself or anyone to remove themselves from theological thinkers and writers. But what I am saying is that I think I need to assimilate Louise Rosenblatt's transactional reading theory into my study of scripture. Rosenblatt states there are two different types of texts -- efferent and aesthetic. Efferent texts are ones you read for the sake of knowledge and understanding. Efferent texts would be history text books and computer manuals. Aesthetic texts move or transform the individual who encounters it, such as poetry and novels. 


I tend to look at scripture and read it efferently. What can I learn from it? What can I figure out about the mechanisms of God? I am always asking questions and examining definitions and sentence structures so I can have a fuller understanding of the author's meaning and purpose. And what a beautiful thing to do!


But am I reading the living and breathing word of God aesthetically? Do I engage its characters? suffer with them? love with them? serve with them? Do I activate my imagination in order to participate in its transforming ways? Not often...


Because I forsake the aesthetic pursuit of scripture, my house's foundation cracks. Where does my help come from? How can I fix the crack on the ceiling or the shifting tile in the kitchen? I hear the Maker of heaven and earth is pretty good at foundation repairs.


I will always search for the Truth like Stephen Dedalus did. My mind and heart will always make contracts with the hope of some sort of intellectual and spiritual satisfaction. But my ultimate joy and satisfaction does not rest in the knowledge I obtain about God, but it comes with the knowledge that he is my help; he is my strength; he is the one that guides me through life, even when I stray far from him.  


Praise God for his consistency in the midst of my flakiness!

Mission Trips to Oregon and Belize

Dear family and friends,

To serve through the avenue of Missions is a way one abides, remains, or continues on in their love of God.  As they serve, by the Grace of God, they reflect more and more the Image originally intended for them.

“…and every branch that bears fruit, He prunes it so that it may bear more fruit…Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it abides in the vine, so neither can you unless you abide in me.”  (John 15:2, 4)

            This summer I am working for an organization called Wonder Voyage. Wonder Voyage is a non-profit, ecumenical, pilgrimage organization. Throughout the year, they lead mission trips and pilgrimages for youth groups and adults from over 14 different denominational backgrounds. Their philosophy is for pilgrims to experience the wonder of God’s presence, to dedicate selves to listening, learning, praying, and playing, and to give them the opportunity to serve on a specific mission defined by their leadership (Wonder Voyage Website).

I will be volunteering on two different trips. From June 16-22, I will be serving on a trip to Oregon, and from June 25-July 2, I will be serving on a trip to Belize. The total cost of both trips is $1800. 

I am raising support two ways. One way is through the traditional mission trip fundraising model which asks others to prayerfully consider giving their money to a cause they believe in. The other way is through the selling of coffee. If you would like, you can purchase a pound of coffee from me for $12.95. $4.00 of every pound sold will help fund my trips, while the other $8.95 goes to overseas missions, a church planting initiative in the U.S., and ministry to the broken, downtrodden, and the poor in the U.S. Each pound of coffee will be labeled individually for my trips so that as the coffee sits on your countertop, you will be reminded to pray for the students and leaders on the trips.

I humbly ask you to consider one or both of the options above. If you would like to partner with me by way of a “lump sum,” please send a check, written out to Wonder Voyage with my name in the “memo” line, to:  

Wonder Voyage

P.O. Box 2135

Coppell, TX 75019

If you would like to partner with me by purchasing a pound (or two or three) of “Justin McGee Mission Trip Coffee,” please fill out this quick and easy order form. http://tinyurl.com/7ovw6b3. As soon as I process it, I will send you an email confirming your order.

The first coffee pickup/delivery day will be Saturday, April 14th! Please place your orders with me through the order form above by Sunday, April 1st so I can let my coffee suppliers at Phoenix Community Coffee know the exact amount of coffee to pack. More information can be found on the order form.

            As much as I need money for these trips, I desperately need your prayers. Without the strength, power, and energy that emanates from the prayers of His people, my ability to lead and serve would suffer. Please lift up Wonder Voyage and the pilgrims as we serve and experience God through the mode of pilgrimage.

Through His Grace,

Justin McGee

The Yoke of Christ

“Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your soul. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light (Matthew 11:28-30).”


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One of my roommates and I were talking the other night about a host of things as the day wound down. One recurring topic centered on our task to follow Christ in some tangible, quantifiable way -- a way in which we can jot down each instance and point to God and say, "Look at what I have done for the Kingdom! The world is changing and changed because of this!" Praise God for the transformation of his people, through the work and efforts of those following him!

Skye Jethani refers to this posturing of the soul as a life lived for God. For most of us, this reality is seen as the ultimate telos (end) of existence. Once we reach this status (we believe), we finally become who God created us to be. We emphasize terms such as mission(al), evangelism, and social justice when we discuss the portrait of a Christian. Most likely, our hearts long for Africa or Asia or maybe even the homeless in our own community. Jesus and his disciples were on mission for the poor, so we must do the same. We must pine for those whom he pines for.

Personally, my soul usually remains in this state of being. I find myself, in moments (minutes/hours/days) of despair, reflecting upon my effectiveness as a tool of the Gospel. "Why don't I know more customers at Starbucks?" "Why am I not pouring into more students at TCA?" "Why am I not more social? I am missing opportunities because of introversion." "Why did I not help that homeless man on the street corner? I mean, he only asked for a buck."

The commonality in each question that swims through my head is the subject "I." The yoke of Christ, which should rest so gently upon my weary, sinful shoulders, weighs me down in the same way the stones weighed down Virginia Woolf. In reality, the thing in which I think is the yoke of Christ is really something else. It is the yoke of my perception of the Christian life. Work for the kingdom is accomplished.

"Some, to be sure, are preaching Christ even from envy and strife...What then? Only that in every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed; and in this I rejoice (Philippians 1)."


Even though my missional activity bears itself initially in my envy, strife, and pretense, Christ is still proclaimed. While I ponder and beat myself over the questions above, somehow and someway God uses me. I lead a life so unaware of my fellow man, yet by His grace, others occasionally see Christ in me.  


So...


Do I allow my soul to continuously and solely pursue the life for God posture, even though he uses us in it? By no means! 

The distinction needs to made that our end is not to live for God, but to live with God. A life with God can not flow from a life for God, but a life for God can most definitely flow from a life with God. Because we live so much within the for posture, we forget that "We were made not primarily that we may love God (though we were made for that too) but that God may love us, that we may become objects in which the Divine love may rest 'well pleased' (C.S. Lewis -- Problem of Pain)."


The recognition of God's love for us only drenches our soul by way of his gift of Grace. This realization shocks, yet soothes, the anxiety ridden life for God. Then, all of the sudden, with the sweat and blood still fresh from our toil, the yoke is virtually non-existent. You still work, but it is restful.


Have you ever met someone who laughed or scoffed at the notion that his job resembled our cultural definition of "work?" You know, they find so much joy in their labor that they lose themselves completely in their task and desire nothing more than to continue their task day in and day out?


So it is with the work derived from the yoke of Christ. You lose yourself to the point where you live out God's will unconsciously. Your desire to live for God fades away. All that remains is a soul that is with God, united at last, for a few breaths. 


Oh, but what a sweet few breaths!


Just as a breath comes and goes without any cognizant recollection of its existence, so does this yoke of Christ. For "perfect joy is possible only when we have completely forgotten ourselves. And it is only when we pay no more attention to our own deeds and our own reputation and our own excellence that we are at last completely free to serve God in perfection for his own sake alone" (Thomas Merton -- New Seeds of Contemplation). One within a life with God does not even realize they are in that posture. Their souls absorbs and reflects his love to such a degree that they move about their day unaware of themselves. The joy overflows and covers all aspects of their self, leaving them completely blind to their self.


But, in our fallen nature, we really pine for the yoke powered by our own strength. We love the tangibility of it. Yet, as our souls become tattered and beaten from our exhausting selves, God infuses us with his ever peaceful Grace. As Thomas Merton says:


"there are times in the life of a man when [living a life for God] can become an escape, an anodyne, a refuge from the responsibility of suffering in darkness and obscurity and helplessness, and allowing God to strip us of our false selves and make us into the new men that we are really meant to be."

This idea of losing yourself upon the restful yoke of Christ seems so ambiguous and mysterious, yet at the same time, in its unintelligible transcendence, it allows us to truly be -- a soul with God.