On Rationality and Spirituality

As the title of this blog post might lead you to believe, I have been thinking about rationality and spirituality lately. Between the ridiculous show piece that was the Ham vs Nye debate, listening to an audio book version of A Brief History of Time by Stephen Hawking I got from the library (curiously enough, you can find the exact version of the audio book I'm listening to on YouTube as well though I'm not sure if it is a legal version), reading an assortment of essays on the Einstein's Theories of Relativity and Gravitation by James Malcolm Bird, and a discussion I had with my small group about the topic, it's easy to see why science and religion has been on the forefront of my mind.

I've debated whether or not to talk about this on my blog. I think there are certain subjects that must be carefully treaded when discussing them and I don't want anyone to lose faith because of the manner in which I discuss them. So, if you are reading this, please read through to the very end before drawing conclusions, either positive or negative, about the implications of this post. With that being said, I feel like I can freely say the following fact about myself:

Were it not for my personal experiences, I would be agnostic.

That's a packed statement so let me unload a few of the pieces.

I cannot conceive of a world in which I would ever be an atheist.

Earlier today, I read an article entitled Is Atheism Irrational?. The mere title of the article was clearly meant to invoke a response (at the time this post was written, the number of comments on the article was reaching 1000) and I don't agree with all of the arguments the interviewee put forth but the general argument against atheism in favor of agnosticism I agree with. If you don't feel like reading the article (or potentially read the arguments in a different way than I did), the argument between atheism and agnosticism is argument between whether or not there is sufficient evidence suggesting that no God exists or, rather, that the leap of faith from agnosticism to atheism relies on believing (a) the absence of evidence of the existence of God is conclusive enough to point to evidence of God's absence and (b) there is enough evidence of God's absence to conclusively point to His non-existence. From an intellectual standpoint and were I agnostic, I cannot conceive of a world in which someone could argue well-enough to convince me of point (a) let alone point (b). I'm sure plenty of my atheist friends will gladly point me in the right direction though.

Intellectually, I can conceive of a world in which the governing laws of nature produced our physical universe without supernatural help.

Quite obviously based on my reading of recent days you can see where this is could be coming from. However, I have long held this belief. There have been many times in my life when I struggled to acknowledge this fact to myself but, in the end, I feel like I cannot abandon my intellect to blind faith. Did God create the world in 7 days? Did He use evolution to do it? Was He there at all? Where does morality come from? Why is there evil in the world? Why didn't Noah swat those two mosquitoes when he had the chance? Silliness aside, there are a lot of deep metaphysical, philosophical, and theological questions that I have wrestled with and heard arguments on and I must say that, from a purely intellectual standpoint, I find the arguments for and against the existence of God as made evident in the world around us to be just as convincing.

From an experiential standpoint, I cannot deny the existence of God.

Recently, I was listening to a set of lectures on Kierkegaard's Relevance to the Contemporary Church by Stephen Evans and there was a particular point of Kierkegaard's works that Dr. Evans brought to my attention that I think is of relevance here: Kierkegaard viewed most modern men as being emotionally underdeveloped.

What does that mean? When hearing the term "emotion," I think most people think of a fleeting feeling or some other transient state of being. However, according to Dr. Evans, the claim that Kierkegaard is making in his works is speaking to deeper emotions like Love (not infatuation), Hope (not wishful-thinking) or even, if I may be so bold, Forgiveness (not willful-ignorance) in an almost incommunicable way, a way that can only be fully understood when experienced. Kierkegaard is of the opinion that modern man has placed too much effort on the advancement of the intellect to the subjugation of personal identity and humanity.

This analysis speaks volumes to me. As much as my mind may like to separate from my soul, it lives its existence intertwined with it (and, I believe, it is all the better for it). Time and time again, I know that God has touched my life. Now, you may call me crazy for saying that or you may try to explain it away with something about neurological impulses triggering responses in my brain and, were I purely an intellectual being, I might believe either explanation. However, there is something there that I cannot fully explain in words that makes me believe that it cannot just be my physical brain playing tricks on me.

It's these personal moments that drives my belief in something greater than myself, in God Himself. It's not something that can be proved or argued but I something I just know to be.

So, for all of you who sit on the fence of agnosticism, I'll pray for you, for God to touch your life the way He's touched mine and for you to be truly open to experiencing Him. For all of you who truly believe that there is no God to pray to, I'll pray even more for you to experience what God can offer and I truly hope your soul can be as open as your mind.

Humble Thyself

I don't know what I'm doing. There, I said it.

There have been quite a few changes over the past couple of weeks and I'm still picking up the pieces from the whirlwind.

I've moving on from my job of 3 years to a new position tomorrow. I've looked over the tools that I'll be using for the job and, while they're quite nice, I can tell it's going to be a challenge and change of pace from what I'm used to. I'm excited about the prospect of something new but, at the same time, terrified that when it comes down to it, I'll crash and burn for days or weeks to come.

Was this the right move? Only time will tell.

I quit being a Youth Counselor to redouble my efforts on Service Projects.

I may not have spoken about this before on this blog but I've taken a survey of a good lot of congregants to get information on their connections to service-oriented organizations and activities as well as skills, needs, and/or desires to participate or spearhead service opportunities. I've been sitting on this pile of data and I fear that I have been paralyzed into inaction. Luckily, a friend of mine has been kind enough to brainstorm next steps with me next weekend. I just hope we start something good.

This evening was the first evening I spent as an ex-Counselor. I've had a lot of time to think about things and one thought that keeps coming back to me is how much I miss those kids. You'll probably never get a "thank you" out of any of them in their teen years but there are times, if just for a moment or two, where you know that they love you. Those moments have filled me with such hope for the future and such joy to be alive that you can't even begin to full comprehend it until you've worked with kids yourself.

And I want to give that up?

I believe deeply in this cause. I want to belong to a church that has its eyes set on God and its heart set on others because that's what I think God wants of us.

But still, am I doing the right thing? I guess I'll find out.

How can I be okay with that? With so many possibilities and chances for things to go terribly wrong, with so many questions left unanswered, how can I possibly be calm taking these leaps?

One of my favorite Christian songs has been Humble Thyself in the Sight of the Lord. The lyrics are quite simple: "Humble thyself in the sight of the Lord and He shall lift you up." It's a direct quote of James 4:10 and, while it's a simple little thing, it speaks volumes to me in these situations.

There's a certain kind of arrogance that comes with complete certainty, whether it be in a situation or within one's self.

Now, what do I mean by that? I would like to believe that I have everything under control. I would love to believe that what I'm doing makes sense and always makes sense to me. Nothing would satisfy my sinful nature more than to believe that I can know everything that will unfold before me or even who I am in total. However, I don't think that God wants that for me.

While I'm not trying to say that God wants to keep me in the dark about what to do next or what I truly am capable of, I do think there's a certain level of uncertainty that can be healthy to personal development. I've found that, most times, I learn more from my mistakes than from me successes. At the same time, I should learn to trust that the Ultimate Reality really knows what He's doing. If I begin to distrust the Ultimate Reality, then I begin to separate myself from Him.

In situations like these, as hard as it might be, I think that my best option is to humble myself and trust that the Lord will lift me up. I mean, what else can I do? What else would I even want to do? Nothing. Apart from Him I can do nothing so that's what I'll do: humble myself.

Love [redacted] Thyself

I hate politics.

That may be a little strong. I don't really hate politics completely. I hate the bickering and staunch idealism that makes nothing happen. I hate the corruption that takes place, especially when its legal corruption.What I hate the most about politics is how it brings out some of the worst of human nature. I can think of a recent news story for probably each one of the seven deadly sins in some politician's life and it all stems from the one thing that makes capitalism and free markets work: selfishness.

That being said, socialism isn't exactly a great alternative. I may be doing a terrible job running my life but at least I get to decide how I want it ran through my own guiding principles, not some ideals impressed upon me by a group of individuals who decide what the common good is. Here again, it's so easy to fall into the trap of overwhelming selfishness.

Let's stop for a moment here and think about something that you may not have considered: why is selfishness something to be averted? Certainly, there have been quite a few people that have considered selfishness not only to be good but a virtue. How unimaginable that must be to think such things!

But, of course, it's not so simple.

Nietzsche, as misunderstood as he is (and I may be misunderstanding him now myself), brings up a good point in his book On the Genealogy of Morality. An eagle should not be held accountable for being a bird of prey. The eagle is seen as a symbol of strength and, to the contrary of what most in our culture would consider to be the right and appropriate action to take, must use its strength in the form of violence to survive. The Romans regarded this bird as a noble beast and, even in American culture today, it's seen a symbol of great pride. How can this be reconciled with our notion evil as it stems from violence and murder? How can we condemn this selfishness when it is necessary for survival?

Furthermore, we can have some form of gradation that says certain desires of the will are simply "self-serving" or for personal "self-interest" while others are truly selfish. Many people will argue that every action taken falls onto that gradation since every act of the will is, in one form or another, self-serving, be it blatantly obvious through the goal in mind or simply the pleasure of helping someone out. Therefore, every action undertaken, as it provides the one taking it with some conscious or unconscious reward or punishment-averted, is selfish. From this perspective, selfishness is not a virtue but it most certainly is not a vice.

So...
Selfishness is inherently wrong because it preys on the less fortunate?
Selfishness is inherently good because it is necessary for survival?
Selfishness is not inherently good or bad because everything we do has some selfish outcome?

If you've read this expecting an answer, you've come to the wrong place. I cannot answer which one is right or wrong for you because I think the question of the inherent right, wrong, or indifference of selfishness is a flawed question. The concern that needs to be addressed here is one of motive.

Instead, consider the following statement: You have to do what's right by you.

Oh, how I hate that phrase, probably because it's normally comes after a patronizing talk by someone who is either "much older and wiser than me" or has simply run out of helpful things to say. To anyone who says this to me, with the utmost sincerity and respect I must reply, "No, I do not and should not always do what's right by me."

I know it's taken me a while to get here but this is truly my main point in writing this piece and that is to quote the Apostle Paul: "[Love] is not self-seeking... It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." (that's from 1 Cor. 13 for those of you who haven't been to a wedding lately)

Consider with me the divorce rate in the world today. Now, I'm not saying that every marriage is ideal (I know mine can always use some work) but can you imagine how many fewer divorces there would be if people viewed love for one another in the same way that Paul views love? Imagine how many stronger couples there would be in the world today if they considered the true nature of love, which is not romance (sorry ladies but it's true), nor sex (sorry guys but it's true), nor some magical high that you feel as you live "happily ever after."

Love is the willingness to sacrifice yourself for betterment of another and expecting nothing from them in return.

Can love be selfish? In a way, yes. I do indeed feel much better about myself as a person when I sacrifice my needs for those that I love. However, I believe that the better observation here is that it's not self-seeking. The love that sacrifices for the betterment of another expecting nothing in return cannot, by very definition, be self-seeking and while human love cannot be perfect since the lover can always receive, as CS Lewis points out in his poignant but apologetically-awful book The Problem of Pain, we can rest well knowing that our love can be true to its purpose.

What more could you ask for?

Reason to Live

Everybody wants to go to heaven but nobody wants to die.

That's how the album Collision by the David Crowder Band begins and I think it's true, in a sense. I think there could be a handful of objections that could be raised to it. However, I think most of them could be met and parried back if not disbanded forever. Here are some points that have come to mind from this quote.

Everyone wants to go to heaven

Well, if the alternative to heaven is a place that is so pitiful as a wrathful, burning, teeth gnashing hell then I would think that most definitely people would choose heaven over it, even if they had to put up with a God who they couldn't stand for all eternity.

The question of wanting hell becomes a little more interesting if you focus more on the separation from God. From a pluralistic view, consider a separation from the Ultimate Reality. When it comes down to brass tacks, we're talking about deluding one's self (or allowing one's self to be deluded) to the point where you cannot stand the idea of being in touch with what actually is.

Now, you might ask yourself, "Why would anyone want to do that?" You can offer plenty of positions on the subject, calling on an evil figure like Satan slowly whispering in your ear and turning you against the greater reality or maybe a genetic predisposition towards not being in touch with the reality that you've been constructed into. However it begins,  the final outcome comes down to personal choice and willpower. Some notions or feelings in the soul of the delusional man drives him to break with Ultimate Reality and pursue a darker path. He feels cheated by the other (or maybe simply another) and, so, decides to never again pursue the light. He stops focusing on his purpose and begins to pervert the idea into meaninglessness. Whatever the condition, whatever the circumstance, through a series of mistakes and missteps, some of which he has no control, the decision is made that the reality which exists is more unbearable than a reality that one can create for themselves. This brings me to my next point.

Nobody wants to die

This, of course, is difficult swallow either on a literal and metaphorical level because of the evidence to the contrary but, in what could be seen as a depressing and invigorating twist of fate, I would argue that it is true.

First, consider the literal version of Nobody wants to die and its stark contrast to the number of people who commit suicide in a year or become martyrs in their own right. The former, I would argue, isn't truly accurate to the intent of those who commit suicide. That is, those who want or do commit suicide don't kill themselves because they want to die but, rather, because they no longer want to live. Like the delusional man who has meandered his way towards meaninglessness, those who desire to commit suicide have followed that broad, self-destructive path to come to the conclusion that they want no part in what reality has to offer them.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, we have those who believe so strongly in the Ultimate Reality that they're willing to risk everything to defend the belief. Granted, I don't agree with some of the extremes that martyrs will go to, especially when it means killing others along with themselves, but, nonetheless, one could say that this is a case in which the person wants to die. Again, I would disagree. The point of self-sacrifice is not to die but, rather, to live on in a greater capacity, be it in the afterlife, in the hearts and minds of the generations to come, or some other goal that aligns itself with the Ultimate Reality.

From a metaphorical perspective, we have this idea of dying to yourself. Although I'm sure this probably isn't a strictly Christian idea, this idea of "taking up the cross and dying to yourself," I really feel no reservations in talking about it from the Christian perspective since that is my perspective.

In Luke 9:23-24, you'll find the verses that I'm referring to: "Then he said to them all: 'Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will save it.'" Now, while I care a great deal about the final resting place of your soul, my point in mentioning this is not to speak of an eternity after the mortal coil has been shuffled off. Salvation is meant to be an ever-present experience that begins when a man dies to himself. When I consciously decide that there is no reason to live outside of  the Ultimate Reality, in that very moment, I cease to exist. That is, the man who lived for another reality that was not the Ultimate Reality is no more and, in his place, another man stands who, as he is aligned with that which will always be, can never be destroyed. How awesome is that? Everything is new again.

I hate to leave you with an anticlimactic ending to a blog post but I really must be getting to bed and, I'm afraid that, if I don't post this now, it will be lost to drafts forever. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed spewing it.

Schizophrenic Poetry

I find that I write the best poetry when I am near complete exhaustion.  I don't think that this is a rare phenomenon. My mental acuity is in a different frame of reference. The less hindered I am by my rationality, the easier it is for my expressive nature to overtake me. It's a little odd, to tell you the truth. I would never take drugs or anything similar to inhibit my reason solely for the purpose of creating works but, at the same time, there's an edge to my intellect. There's a set of clearly defined rules of what should and should not write about that my mind knows. For the most part, it's a good thing. When it comes to writing poetry, though, not so much.

A man is not one man. That is, he is a complex weaving of many men fighting for control of the consciousness of the man. There are extremes to this, of course. Some people actually do create multiple personalities to deal with this struggle. They feel that the war is too great inside them and so they split themselves in two, in three, in four, etc. The more fortunate among us are able to find a diplomatic solution to the matter.

I am a lover. I'm not talking about romantic love specifically but love of all kinds. I love people (it seems a bit unlikely, I know, but it's true). I love this Earth. I love to love others.

I am a sinner. I'm not here to confess all of the sins I've committed in my lifetime. If you've known me for any stretch of time, I've probably sinned against you. It always seems to be to the people that love me the most, which torments me constantly to think on.

I am a Christian. That has so many meanings to so many people so I may have to clarify it at some point in time but it should suffice for now to say that I follow the teachings of Jesus Christ.

I am a skeptic. I don't know everything and I will freely admit that. There are times when I sink into severe doubt about my theological beliefs but that's not a bad thing. If God wanted blind faith, he wouldn't have given us free will, though, right? Agnosticism is the closest I could ever be able to get to atheism. After all that I've experienced in my life, there's no way that I could ever say, with any certainty, that there is no God or some other Ultimate Reality. With the way that God has lavished His love on me, I don't think I'll even get to the point of agnosticism.

Here we are. And by that, I mean, here I am: a synthesis of many antitheses. All the while, I need to be setting my soul free. Well, here goes nothing.

Down the Straight and Narrow

So I began this a few days ago and have been meaning to finish it but have been distracted by, you know, life and such.

The last post long and drawn out. Seemingly, it was also full of tangents as well but, let me assure you, it was all relevant information. And now, for some more random pieces of information.

A long time ago, before I was a member of a church in the area, I was going to Church 1 and speaking with the Pastor about the church's theology and structure, talking with him about every question I could think of, from baptism to ordination. Three things happened in the process:

1. The associate pastor asked me to be a Youth Counselor while I was visiting one time. You know how that turned out from my last post.
2. I was convinced that the church's theology had no faults that I could find and became a member (along with my wife)
3. I had the thought put in my head that I might want to be a pastor

That is a crazy idea I had not thought about at all.

I was raised Christian but when I was in high school, my family started to drift away from going to church. I felt something missing in my life at the time so I began looking for a church. Time and time again, I was sorely disappointed by the way I was treated as a teenager. No one took me seriously and why should they? The examples of Youth Groups around include kids who came, sang a lot, had fellowship time with each other (heaven forbid, teens would talk to adults), and never talked about deeper theological or spiritual topics. After a time, I became so frustrated that I crafted my own thoughts on how a church should be constructed.

Honestly, I was pretty naive. I tried starting it as a bible study with my friends and that just fell into bickering over the most pointless of arguments. That was a rough time for me, spiritually speaking. That's not to say that things have gotten easy but I have definitely learned some ways to cope (prayer of all sorts, typically).

At any rate, I moved here for grad school, as I mentioned before, and I decided to give a campus ministry a try. What I found was quite astounding. The moment I walked into the ministry, I knew that it was where I needed to be. My fellow students were friendly and engaging. There were small groups where we dug through some more penetrating theological issues. I loved it. My hope that Christianity could be a vibrant, communal faith was restored.

Fast forward, through my conversations with the Pastor, I learned that the doctrine and structure of his church was uncannily close to what I had envisioned. In fact, the ideas that I had had were already in practice and refined to a much more practical approach. Ideas I had not thought about were in place and oversights that I didn't see become obvious. I was truly impressed at the structure.

In one of the meetings, the idea of ordination came about and, I'm not quite sure how it got there, but a bug got into my ear, metaphorically speaking. I would have screamed bloody murder if that had literally happened. What would it like to be a pastor?

I mulled it over a bit, put it in the back of my mind, and went about life. Every once in a while, it would creep up again. I remember having a conversation with someone else who had mentioned that they thought I was going to go to become a pastor. I recall talking to the Youth Minister about how many people who become pastors find their way through Youth Ministry. There have been other conversations that I've had with my wife that have made me think about it.

Moreover, when I began teaching Sunday School, I realized how much I loved it. I know, it's not the same thing as being a pastor. There's a lot more to it than preparing a lesson for a (hopefully) captive audience but it really made come to grips with the idea that what I really want in life, more than anything else, is to help.

Deep down, I don't want glory or even to be remembered. That series of blog posts I did a while back about my assumptions truly reflects who I am as a person. Yes, I do have shallow desires. I would love to be remembered. It's a great feeling but it's not what I really want out of life. I want to be that tsunami for good, not just a drop in the ocean.

Anyway, now I'm starting to ramble. The biggest thing that I want to get off my chest is that I've been thinking about becoming a pastor. A lot. I've prayed about it. I've talked to a close friend or two. So far, nothing of consequence.

Again, I feel like I'm cutting this short because there's more that needs to be said. I will leave that for another post.

And the truth shall set you free!

I've been somewhat distant lately. I almost used the word "secretive" but it's not anything nearly that interesting. I've been struggling with a few things that I've needed to work out and am still working out as I write this. I'm fairly certain that I will offend most people that live in my area that have a faith connection with me. If you are one of those people, I expect that you will neither take this personally nor walk away from this post thinking that I have abandoned you. I am merely expressing thoughts and feelings that I've had lately and, no matter what it sounds like, I love you.

So, let me start at the beginning.

I moved to this area about four years ago for graduate school and, to make a long story short, I began dating the woman who would become my wife. While we were dating, we began looking for a church to go to. After going to a few of them, we found one that we really loved going to because of the music they have and the progressive theology they endorse. It's the church we were married in and the church in which I became a Youth Counselor and a Sunday School teacher.

Let me take a slight tangent here in our story to explain a little about how this came about. My wife and I were involved in a campus ministry (in fact, that's how we met). However, when I knew that, when I graduated, I couldn't stay a part of a campus ministry forever (unless I became a campus pastor or something along those lines). So, I began to pray about what ministry I should enter into next. Now, I could go on and on about the power of prayer but I'd rather not spend the time in this post about it so let me just say that the prayers were answered by an associate pastor approaching me one day and asking me if I wanted to be a part of the Youth Ministry. I was apprehensive at first but, knowing that God answers prayers in ways I don't understand, I eventually agreed to take it on.

There is no doubt in my mind that it was one of the best decisions of my life. Personally, I have grown so much as a leader, teacher, and Christian since I became a Youth Counselor that I will never fully know the extent to which my life has been changed by being a part of this group. On top of that, I gotten to effect the lives of quite a few teens (hopefully, to their betterment as well).

After a year and a half of being a Youth Counselor, I was asked if I wanted to take over leading Youth Sunday School. Again, I was apprehensive but, again, it was one of the best decisions of my life.

I'd love to say everything turned out to be roses and rainbows but, unfortunately, I don't live in fantasy-land. After a while, it became more evident to my wife and I that the progressive theology that we fell in love with did not have the depth and relational background that we needed in a church. We knew that God loved us, we heard it every week, but we didn't walk away from sermons feeling challenged and we didn't walk away from services feeling connected. Now, while the former is an area of contention for which I think the blame lies more squarely on the shoulders of the clergy whom have no intention of changing, the blame of the later is mitigated by the fact that my wife and I are not the primary audience being reached by the congregation. The primary focus of the church is, more so, for children and people with children, a spectrum my wife and I do not fall into.

After several painful conversations and sleepless nights, we decided that we needed to move on. We began attending the church that sponsors the campus ministry we were a part of. This meant that I gave up teaching Youth Sunday School (something that I have still not fully come to terms with yet) in exchange for closer relationships and challenging sermons. Also, they found out that I was a Youth Counselor and wanted me to help out with their Youth Ministry. Now, I was still doing Youth Ministry at the other church but I saw that the times didn't interfere with each other so I told them I would try it out.

A few weeks into the school year, the new Youth Ministry decided to change the meeting time to the same time as the old Youth Ministry. So, again, I needed to make a tough decision. In the end, I decided to stick with the old Youth Ministry, since I had more of my time invested in it and I believe more so in its guiding principles.

So, that's most of the background information.


Here's the thing: the two faith communities lack exactly what the other has, as far as I can tell. I would sum them up with the following Bible verses.

Church 1 is Micah 6:8 - He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.

Church 2 is Matthew 28:18 - 20 Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

Church 1 is focused, very much so, on spreading God's love by acts of justice and kindness. For example, the Youth program does a mission trip every year to a place where the teens are shown how to help destitute people. Believe me, if you've never been on a mission trip before, I recommend that you do it at least once in your life. I've never felt better about a week's worth of work than when it's done out of charity for the less fortunate. Truly a humbling and inspiring experience.

Church 2 is focused, very much so, on spreading God's love by telling people the good news and building positive relationships. For example, the Youth program does a retreat every year to build relationships and reflect on the awesomeness of God. Again, I've been on retreats before and they've been eye-opening experiences into the core of my personal beliefs and convictions. Great experience.

Do you see the problem here? There's multiple ways to spread God's love.

The first approach is the Saint Francis of Assisi approach: "Preach the gospel at all times and, when necessary, use words." The way that it preaches the good news into people's lives is by taking a loving but hands-off approach to it. It's a selfless endeavor but too an extreme of almost not building relationships in the body of believers.

The second approach has it's benefits and faults as well. The way it preaches the good news into people's lives is by taking the direct route of building relationships with people so that they can know God better and more personally. It's a very spiritually-sound method of doing it but it can be, at times, somewhat self-serving since it focuses on building up the ranks of a church rather than truly helping those in need.

There's more that needs to be said here but this is long enough for the time being and I'll say the remainder in a different post. For now, I'll leave you to post your comments. I appreciate any that you may have.