Not Boring Yet

We have grown used to beauty without horror.
-Andrew Hudgins

I bet that caught your attention.

Yep, it does say that word up there. Yep, I have a reason. No, college is not making me lose my faith.

I've felt like I needed to blog for a very long time. If you'll notice, I have not blogged for half a year. I've been at a loss as to what to blog about. Sure, I could go ahead and tell another funny story about my life, but I don't really want to. Today as I was walking back from the art building, I was pondering several things that I have been tossing around in my head. My thoughts have somewhat come to a culmination today because of a man, a poet named Andrew Hudgins, who is the keynote speaker for this weekend's writing conference that my school, John Brown University, is hosting. Mr. Hudgins is a bit of a controversial writer in Christian circles, probably because he makes people feel uncomfortable. I had the pleasure of having lunch with him, several other authors (including Leif Enger, author of Peace Like a River), and some of my classmates. During our conversation, I was able to observe Mr. Hudgins' deep wisdom and devotion to Christ.

Let me cue you in on my recent thought process. First, here is a quote:

"God calls Christians to be in the world, but not of it. But, I observe modern Christians doing the exact opposite. They're of the world, but not in it."

That was said by Terry Mattingly, president of The Washington Journalism Center, when he spoke in chapel last semester. That quote got to me. It's so true, us Christians have our own versions of everything: music, films, books, etc. Then, we have really conservative Christians who do an excellent job of not being of the world; but, they aren't in the world either. They live in their own little Christian boxes, surrounded by their Christian friends, claiming that they're living for God but ignoring the world around them. I don't doubt their commitment to Christ, but it seems they miss the point. So, in fact, the vast majority of Christians do not follow Jesus' command to be in the world but not of it. Myself included.

Secondly, I've been tossing around the idea of the "ideal Christian." You know what I'm talking about, the Christian stereotype of having to look and act a certain way. The un-spoken, but much implied rules of no piercings, no tattoos, no swearing, no weird hair cuts or hair colors, and on it goes. The ideal Christian family that glosses over the other family member who is gay, or is pregnant out of wedlock, or has had an abortion. The people in our lives who have done the unmentionable non-christian things. The ones who, when asked about, we say, "Oh, that's Bob's uncle, but we don't talk about him" and then shoot the universal 'he's a bad person' look that all Christians understand. I have problems with this. I have major problems with the ideal Christian stereotype. I've lived with it most of my life. Not from my parents, but from the people around me. Who did Jesus look like? Who did Jesus hang out with? I have another question, where does Jesus, or the other inspired writers of the Bible, tell us what we have to look like? What do they say about who we are allowed to talk about, or hang out with, or listen to? Yes, I'm aware of the verses that give guidelines for life, such as Colossians 3:8:

"But now you must rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips."

But, I'm talking about the gray areas here, the areas that Christians have been disagreeing about for years. What makes language filthy? Is piss a filthy word? What about fuck? Obviously there are contexts where those words are filthy; but, all language, every single word, can be filthy. Very filthy.

I'm not being rebellious. I'll lay that down right now. Ok? I'm not going out clubbing, and drinking, and partying. I'm not partaking of all the pleasures that are out there. I don't have questionable friends. These thoughts that I am presenting are what I've been thinking about. They really don't even pertain to me in a direct way. I am living at a Christian college in a fairly controlled Christian bubble. But, thankfully, at John Brown University, they don't dictate how we're allowed to think. They challenge us, and let us think for ourselves. That's what I'm doing.

Finally, this is what I saw today:


This is a piece of artwork by an artist named Andres Serrano. It has won awards. When you look at it, it's rather beautiful, isn't it? This piece of art is named Piss Christ. The artist spent weeks collecting his urine, cow urine, and cow blood. Then, he poured the liquids together and submerged a crucifix in them. Sacrilegious? Probably.

Now, read this poem. It is by the gentleman that I mentioned earlier, Andrew Hudgins. He wrote it after observing Mr. Serrano's artwork.

Piss Christ

If we did not know it was cow's blood and urine,
if we did not know that Serrano had for weeks
hoarded his urine in a plastic vat,
if we did not know the cross was gimcrack plastic,
we would assume it was too beautiful.
We would assume it was the resurrection,
glory, Christ transformed to light by light
because the blood and urine burn like a halo,
and light, as always, light makes it beautiful.

We are born between the urine and the feces,
Augustine says, and so was Christ, if there was a Christ,
skidding into this world as we do
on a tide of blood and urine. Blood, feces, urine—
what the fallen world is made of, and what we make.
He peed, ejaculated, shat, wept, bled—
bled under Pontius Pilate, and I assume
the mutilated god, the criminal,
humiliated god, voided himself
on the cross and the blood and urine smeared his legs
and he ascended bodily unto heaven,
and on the third day he rose into glory, which
is what we see here, the Piss Christ in glowing blood:
the whole irreducible point of the faith,
God thrown in human waste, submerged and shining.

We have grown used to beauty without horror.

We have grown used to useless beauty.

Makes you think, doesn't it? Read those last two lines again. "We have grown used to beauty without horror. We have grown used to useless beauty." This poem was met with the same outrage as the piece artwork. But, seriously, when we dig down past our romanticized, perfect, spotless Christianity, this poem is true. Jesus got dirty.

We need to get dirty.

We need to live in the world.