Yesterday was the last day of classes at my school.  I know, some of you are still trudging your way to the finish line.

Farewells were made.  Cards and treats were exchanged.  And while the last day comes as a relief, I also get a bit sentimental, because it is another indication that time is passing, and my students are growing up.

Getting sugary treats from students on special occasions is nice.  But I really treasure the words students give me.  Seriously, I’ve kept every card or drawing that students have given me.  But yesterday, I got the best card I have ever received.  The simple message inside, accompanied by a couple of hearts scrawled in pen made me laugh instantly, but also gripped my heart.

“Mr. Appling, I am glad you are my art teacher.  Thank you for helping me with my projects, even when I think it’s a disaster.”

Keep in mind this student is a notoriously stubborn perfectionist.  In other words, she thinks every project is a disaster.  There are many days that I am not sure she is glad I am her teacher.  We butt heads like two stiff-necked animals as I insist on believing in her when her belief in herself remains obstinately, defiantly low.

What gripped me (after I laughed) was how, in my own perfectionism, I rarely believe that I have done enough for anyone, including my students.  I don’t think I’m a great teacher, a great friend, a great husband.  I’m okay.  But I could do more.

But sometimes, all a person needs is someone to believe in them, to tell them that things aren’t as bad as they look, to assure them that it’s not a disaster, to stubbornly, obstinately believe in them, though they insist on not believing in themselves.

Who was the last person who insisted on believing in you when you thought everything was a disaster?

This week, I’ve been thinking about a two-part series written by Emma Johnson over at Wealthy Single Mommy.

Emma confidently claims that she has proven marriage is dead.  She asserts that marriage as we know it is hardly normal anyway.

She advocates for changing marriage to a ten year contract, wherein both parties establish expectations and choose to renew or not renew their marriage every ten years.

As I read, I was alternately offended, incredulous and frightened by her seemingly cold and loveless recipe for the future of marriage…

…And yet…yet this divorced Mom with a vision for decade-long marriages might be taking more action to save marriage than a lot of us married couples.

Statistically Speaking

The claim Emma makes that marriage is dead rests on her use of statistics.  She claims a “steady, high divorce rate,” rising numbers of people who never marry, and finally “40%” of people who think marriage is obsolete.

It’s true, fewer people are getting married.  But I will take some issue with the narrative of “steady, high divorce rates.”  Although this story has been pounded into our heads – that “half” of marriages end in divorce – the fact is that divorce rates have been on the decline since 1985  (here are stats, if you like.)  Granted, there are still lots of divorces…but not as many.

I liken this narrative to that of “global warming.”  The assumption we’ve been taught is that the Earth is warming, even though global temps have flatlined for 10 years.  It’s really hard to change the common assumptions, even when data changes.

The reason I nitpick at this is because that casually cited stat of 50/50 divorce changes our perception of marriage.  If people believe that half of marriages end disastrously, then it’s no wonder that 4 in 10 of us think the institution is crap.  But if people believed that divorce rates were declining, and the odds were actually in their favor, marriage’s public image just might improve.

Fallacy of Marriage

“My story illustrates how today’s definition of marriage is a joke for those of us who do tie the knot.”

With the above sentence, Emma sums up her argument on the death of marriage.

Her statistics left me incredulous, but this sentence left me offended.  Because I feel that she committed a common logical fallacy in “proving” her case.

Her damning evidence was an anecdote, a “personal story.”  (Plus, she yanked all of us married folk into her story.  Read it again.  She’s saying that your marriage is a joke too.)

Look, every rule has an exception.  You can prove anyone a fool by bringing up a personal story to contradict their claims.  The argument is that if a bunch of people fail at something, and a bunch of other people think something is not worth doing, then that thing is actually not worth doing.  

But everyone who gets divorced used to think marriage was worth doing.  We all read our vows.  We knew what we were getting into.  We weren’t tricked.

Lots of people fail to climb Mount Everest, but there are a few who still consider it worth doing.  I suck beyond belief at sports, but that doesn’t mean I get to determine that sports are “broken.”  An activity’s worth or value is not determined by those who fail at it, or those who never try.

Check Up with the Marriage Counselor

There were a myriad of other issues I took with Emma’s pronouncement of the death of marriage. Yet, the divorced, no-nonsense “ten year” advocate finds me cheering for her.

Read the comments and how she responds.  She is actually trying to save marriage.  She wants people to get married.  She’s trying to keep couples together!  She doesn’t want marriage to die.

Emma’s suggestion of a ten year contract offends my sense of what “marriage” is.   I gasp at how cold and “unromantic” her vision of marriage is.  I grumble and ask why a couple should need a contract to evaluate their expectations and satisfaction with their marriages…

…And then I try to remember the last time I asked my wife if I am meeting her needs.  I strain to try to think about the last “checkup” we had, the last really serious sit-down, hash-it-out, come-to-Jesus meeting we had.  We haven’t been married ten years.  Why can’t I remember it?  When I try to get self-righteous about how good my marriage is, why can’t I remember any verifiable proof that my wife is truly happy with me?

If the idea of a ten year contract offends you, then go find your spouse and ask them how your marriage is doing…right now.

What say you?  Does our vision of marriage need to change in order to save it?

Or church camp.  You know how it goes.  The teacher or counselor guides the kids, color this, glue that.  Add some glitter.  And at the end of the hour, a bunch of kids have completed the project.  They all have uniform little bookmarks or light-catchers, or some other trinket that tied neatly into the Bible lesson of the day.

Crafts from church or camp are tangible things that kids show off, which prove to the parents that they are getting their money’s worth.  What kid comes home from camp empty-handed?

One of the ironies of my occupation as an art teacher is how much I cannot stand “craft time” at church, camp, or Vacation Bible School.  I’ve always avoided leading these activities as much as possible (though I’ve still found myself roped in from time to time.)  But it’s not just that I’d rather not lead craft time.  I think all the craft times your kids will enjoy this summer are actually a very appropriate metaphor for the broken Christianity they will be expected to embrace when they are adults.

It’s time for American churches to let go of “craft time” Christianity.

The Difference Between “Art” and “Crafts”

Early in Life After Art, I make it clear that my room is an absolutely pure, glitter-free zone.  I make absolutely no exceptions to this rule. First, glitter comes straight from the bowels of hell itself.  If unicorns fart rainbows, then satan farts glitter.  I refuse to deal with it.  But more than that, I make a distinction between “craft time,” which is embodied by glitter, popsicle sticks, and macaroni, and fine art. 

What is the difference between “art” and “crafts?”

“Art” starts with objectives, but the result is open ended.  There is room for kids to get creative or make mistakes.  Every project looks different, even though they all started from the same place.  I am often delighted to see how twenty children interpret my guidelines on their art projects.

“Crafts” on the other hand, often come from a box and don’t have that margin for mistakes or creativity.  ”Crafts” follow step by step instructions, like a recipe.  When the last step is finished, the project is complete.  A group of kids who do a “craft” will all have fairly uniform results.  Crafts are easy for kids, low maintenance  and pretty simple for any adult to teach, no matter how “uncreative” they are.

What Kind of Christianity Are We Teaching Our Kids?

Which kind of Christianity will be taught this summer at thousands of VBS sessions or church camps?

Will it be the kind of Christianity that begins with a common starting point, but requires individual thought?  Will it be rich, complex, leaving room in the margins for mistakes and doubts?  Will it take practice and determination to develop?  Is it the kind of Christianity that allows twenty unique children to achieve twenty unique results, the way?

Or, will it be the kind of Christianity that is easy to teach, because it’s nothing but a formula, a step-by-step guide for success?  Will it value uniformity in results and leave little room for error, individual thought or creativity?

That second kind of faith – that’s what I call “craft time” Christianity.  Just like most church camps and VBS programs specialize in “crafts,” many American churches specialize in spreading “craft time” Christianity.  It’s the kind of faith that’s just like a little popsicle stick and macaroni craft at church camp.  It’s cute.  It’s easy to teach.  It follows a formula straight out of the box.

And it’s not very useful.

The Beauty of “One Body, Many Parts”

You know what the funny thing is about kids’ art?  (That is, when it really is “art” that they are learning, and not “crafts.”)

Some kids will have really impressive results.  Other kids won’t.  Some kids will stick very close to the directions.  Others will veer off into unexpected territory.  Some work will be super neat, and other work will be messy.

And when it is all hung up together, it looks awesome.  There is truly strength in numbers when it comes to kids’ art.  All of the pieces sort of blend together, like they become one body of many parts.

The real crime of arts and crafts Christianity is that people who fall outside the norms are alienated and left out.  And the people who do meet the standard share the praise for being uniform, but they never experience community as it is meant to be, one body made of many diverse parts.

What do you think?  Is it time for us to give up trying to get our kids, and the rest our churches, to become completely uniform, to allow for spontaneity, for differences, for the happy accidents that are inevitable in art?

Now, try to think about some tools from you kitchen. The catch is, the kitchen utensils must in some way be opposite of the garage tools.

If this sounds like a challenging and strange exercise, it is.  And I love this kind of thing.  

My new friend, Dave Harrity, has just released Making Manifest, a book that’s equal parts logic and poetry, thoughts and emotions, body and spirit.  It’s a book that leaves a lot of space in the margins, because it’s in the margins that the magic happens.

So what exactly is Making Manifest?  Dave says that it’s a “28-day devotional book grounded in the acts of writing, creativity, imagination, solitude, and community building, all designed to help you ‘re-vision’ the way you understand and interact with the kingdom of God.”

Now, I’m the kind of guy who hates, hates, hates devotionals.  Of any kind.  I haven’t found a good one yet.  When I hear the word “devotional,” I yawn.  I also hate “journaling.”  I’ve never successfully journaled (which makes the existence of this blog all the more baffling.)

Guess what?

This is the kind of devotional that I can get into, the kind of journaling I can look forward to actually doing.  It’s intellectual as well as spiritual.  It’s concrete as well as abstract.  It’s all about stretching your thinking and making some beauty manifest in your life through creativity.  If you’re looking for something to help you refuel this summer (like I am), this is a great place to start.  If you are looking for a new kind of spiritual practice, I can’t recommend this highly enough.

Today, I’m making it super easy for one person to win a copy of this excellent book!  All you have to do to enter is tweet the following:

“Win a free copy of “Making Manifest” from @MattTCoNP and make creativity your new spiritual discipline - http://wp.me/pSZSu-1nK”

Make sure you bring a writing utensil – you’re going to be doing a lot of writing!  Oh, and check out Dave’s organization, Antler, where you can learn more about creativity and spirituality.

He said it was a “stumbling block.”

It’s easy to see what he meant.  No one had contemplated the idea of worshipping a man who died disgracefully.  A slave’s death.  A notorious death.  The cross was a symbol of “Pax Romana,” the peace that Rome enforced by executing enemies of the state.

But I wonder…are people really still offended by the cross?  (Not just because we are inundated with violent entertainment.)

Are people really stumbling over the gospel?  Are they tripping over Jesus’ words?

Jesus said that people would hate us, his followers, on account of him.

I’m not sure Jesus’ words are all that true anymore.  People aren’t offended by the cross or stumbling over the gospel or hating us on account of Jesus.  The fact is most people can’t get close enough to Jesus to be offended by him…

…They’re too offended by us.

Wasted Advertising

I never understood commercials for milk.  I mean, the “Got Milk?” ads were catchy.  But who doesn’t already know about milk?  Who watched one of those ads and thought, “You know, I had forgotten milk existed!”?

No one, that’s who.  Everyone knows about milk.

Chris Broussard has done a bang-up job of creating a similarly useless publicity campaign.  When he explained his position on Jason Collins’ homosexual lifestyle, he added absolutely nothing to the conversation.  No one heard what Chris had to say and thought, “Oh, that was helpful.  He certainly cleared up some questions I had about what many Christians think about gays.”

Instead, he just gave people who are already opposed to Christianity, already offended by Christianity, already convinced that Christians are a bunch of hateful prejudiced jerks, the chance to blast him.  Chris had the chance to share the gospel on cable TV, and he wasted it by talking about a certainly prominent, but nevertheless tertiary issue.

Minor Leagues

Chris is hardly the first Christian to neglect a chance to talk about the saving work of Jesus, his offensive death and resurrection?  How often are we tricked into this?  We have the chance to talk about Jesus.  But we are convinced that it’s somehow more important to share our feelings about the contemporary issue of the day.  (i.e. who’s going to hell.)

I picked up a short collection of D.L. Moody’s sermons a few years ago.  He was a great evangelist and a great man of God.  But there are still some real bloopers in there.  He spent an entire Sunday sermon, possibly more than one, ranting and raving about bicycles.  Yes, Moody thought bikes were a shortcut straight to hell.

In a hundred years, most of the things we argue about today are going to look similarly stupid to our great-great-grandchildren.  Does anyone still believe that bike-riding is ungodly?  How much energy are Christians going to spend trying to change people they cannot change, expressing opinions that are not central to the gospel, essentially majoring in the minors?

The World Will Hate Me on Account of You

This is one of the biggest problems with Christians today.  We’re too busy stealing the spotlight from Jesus.

No one had the chance to be offended by Jesus on ESPN.  Chris Broussard hogged the spotlight and Jesus was left off-camera.  Jesus was a non-issue.  Chris spoke for Jesus instead of letting Jesus speak for himself.  And that is usually the world’s experience.

The world doesn’t see or hear Jesus.  People are supposed to hate us on account of Jesus.  But we’ve got it backwards!  People hate Jesus, on account of us!

What if we stopped telling everyone what God thinks?  What if, the next time we are in a position like Chris was in, we refuse to play the game, we refuse to be set up?  What if, every time someone asked what our faith dictates about this or that, we just talked about the death and resurrection of Jesus to reconcile humanity to God and nothing else?  

What if we put Jesus center stage again and let Him offend people again?

What do you think?  Could some of our problems be solved if we just refused to engage the arguments?

Well, it’s not a fable, it’s true.  Paul Miller’s offline year just ended.  It’s a fascinating and delightfully human story about a man with high expectations of finding out how the internet is corrupting his soul, killing his body, wasting his life.

And sure, the first few weeks sounds amazing, filled with reading books and outdoor exercise and personal enrichment.  But there’s a reason New Year’s resolutions rarely last.

I actually think you should go read Paul’s story for yourself (which is why this is a short post).  But before you do, consider this.  Paul’s story has nothing to do with faith, but I think it is a parable for those of us trying to walk a spiritual path.

Much of my life, I have spent trying to be more holy, more righteous, just a better person.  I have attempted this by buying into various systems, steps or rules to accomplish this: Don’t do this!  Don’t look at that!  Don’t go there!

And you know what?  Paul Miller discovered what everyone discovers (if we are honest with ourselves.)

That it doesn’t matter what external regulation we obey, what shackles we place on ourselves, how many rules we follow or how “religious” we are.  We are still the same people inside with the same problems.  A few months ago, I wrote about why drinking, gambling, guns and porn are not problems.  Paul Miller proves my point exactly.  Paul discovered that the internet was not his problem.  His problem was Paul Miller.  Paul Miller was killing himself, not the internet.

Have you ever blamed external factors for your problems?  What did you find out by trying to follow a bunch of rules?

Today, I’m pleased to share with you a book from my friend, Alexandra Kuykendall, called ‘The Artist’s Daughter.’  Alexandra was kind enough to send me a copy of the book in exchange for a copy of mine.  Two barriers initially stood between me and the book.  First, I’m not much of a memoir reader.  I think I have about one one my shelf.  Two, I’m not really at the center of the target audience.  Despite that, I enjoyed the book and I think you should check it out.  Alexandra was kind enough to answer a few questions to help you get a sense of what it’s all about.

First, can you give us just a brief current bio – your background with MOPS, etc.

We want kids.

I’ve written about it a few times, about the club we unexpectedly found ourselves in as more and more friends became “un-childless.”  My moods have ranged from anxious to depressed to hopeful to patient, but never angry or jealous of people with kids of their own.

Navigating toward parenthood is a stormy sea when nature just doesn’t want to take it’s course.  For many of you, this may one of those situations that it seems dang near impossible to come up with the right words to say to friends who are struggling, grieving or even a little bit secretly jealous of your kids.

While I probably can’t tell you the perfect words to say in any situation, I can definitely help steer you clear of a few common encouragements that actually discourage your childless friends.  Take my advice, especially for the sake of your friends who are more sensitive than I am.

“God Has a Plan”

Maybe that’s true.  But when any of us are in the middle of a trial, time stretches out and it can be incredibly difficult to believe that it will come to an end.  Throw in a few crisis moments and it just doesn’t seem to ring true that any of this is “part of the plan.”  Such a sweet sentiment makes God out to be a cruel, or at the least, absent deity (not to mention, God doesn’t look especially “pro-life.”)

“Just Adopt and You’ll Get Pregnant”

It’s incredibly challenging to navigate the minefield that is the fertility field.  There are incredible amounts of information to absorb and research to do.  Add to all this information, the fact that most of it is not just neutral information, but rife with ethical implications for the couple.  Saturate all of the information and moral quandaries with high levels of emotions, stress, hormones, and the fact that fertility treatment is about the least romantic way to make a baby in the world, and you begin to understand that navigating the massive challenge of pursuing adoption while pursuing pregnancy is just about impossible.

“You Need to Pray / Have Faith / Etc.”

Yeah…

Don’t think we aren’t.

People who are struggling to have kids already know there’s something wrong with them.  They don’t need to be told there’s something wrong with their faith too.

This one is a catch-22.  If you believe God has a plan, then it should not matter how righteously I pray.  God’s plan will happen.  But if you believe that I do need to pray or get holier, then God’s plan depends on my righteousness and faith.

I worship a God who works outside of what I believe He will do.

Better to avoid that one.

Quoting Any Bible Verse

If you are using virtually any Bible verse to encourage a childless couple, then you are probably using it wrong.

Take any Old Testament verse about children.  Any one of them.  All of those verses are directed toward a nation, a nation that existed thousands of years ago, a nation that was under the covenant with God.  Any discussion about children was God promising that Israel would never run out of people.  Abraham would never run out of descendants.  But there were still plenty of individual women who never got to have kids, despite what God said.

Those verses just have nothing to do with suburban couples secretly building a nursery in their home.

“You Can Have Our Kids”

I get it.  Kids are a pain.  When you have them, you get tired.

But joking about giving away your kids is so flippant.  It’s flippant to people who know kids are a pain, but want to wipe butts and fight over bedtimes and step on Legos in their bare feet anyway.

It’s flippant to all the life that is wasted in the world – given up, or not even given a chance.  I know you don’t mean it that way.  But just don’t say it.

Besides, you never know if the next wannabe parent you say that to will actually take you up on your offer!

Do you have any to add?  Has a friend ever tried to encourage you, but just made you feel worse?

Sometimes, people say good things about God.  But an awful lot of what is said about Him is misinformation, slanderous, flaming, blaming, offensive, ranting, blasphemous, infantile or just whiny.  Really, God’s reputation is attacked every day as He gets way more blame than He deserves, and probably far too little credit.

And when slanderous things are said about God, there will never be any shortage of people to defend God, to argue, to picket, to protest in righteous indignation, to tell us what God thinks and how God feels.

If any of us got to be personally attacked liked that day after day, we’d feel pretty lousy. But I think God’s silence in the face of perpetual attack and blame is one of His most instructive attributes.

These are four things God’s silence has to teach us when it comes to defending ourselves, our reputation and our faith.

Emotionally Needy God

“Do I need to be liked? Absolutely not. I like to be liked. I enjoy being liked. I have to be liked. But it’s not like this compulsive need to be liked. Like my need to be praised.” - Michael Scott

One of my favorite TV characters of all time is Michael Scott, one of the neediest, most dysfunctional, emotionally broken human beings to ever be imagined.

Contrasted with the most needy person in the world is God, who is absolutely the least needy being in the world.  God deserves our praise and our love.  He desires them.  But does He need them?  No.  God is completely self-sufficient.

So often, our desire to defend ourselves when under attack is rooted in our very strong desire, even need to be liked and praised.  If 99 people praise us, but just one criticizes, who do we hear loudest?  We ought to take a note from God and just need praise a little less.

Not the End of the World

If you are anything like me, the thought of someone personally attacking you is one of the most uncomfortable thoughts possible.  If we know someone is attacking, blaming or just bad-mouthing us, we want to step into the ring and knock them out.

What is so amazing about Jesus is how serene he seems when he tells his disciples that they will be hated…just because they are his disciples.  Just add Jesus and presto!  Instant controversy!  Everywhere Jesus went, people personally attacked him, and yet he doesn’t get into shouting matches.  And even when his own life is on the line, he just keeps his mouth shut.

Jesus’ message to his disciples?  Being hated, even to the point of being killed is not the end of the world.  Don’t worry so much about it.

You Can’t (Usually) Convert a Critic

A lot of people believed Jesus.  Others ignored him.  A whole lot of people hated him.

What’s amazing about Jesus is he doesn’t stick around town begging people to like him.  He doesn’t try to drag people along and become his friends.  He seems to be completely at ease with himself, offending people and then leaving them to gossip about Him.

Maybe because Jesus knew that exercise would be a waste of time.  How much energy do we spend trying to engage our critics, trying to convert them into friends?  What usually happens is both sides get more entrenched in their point of view and little is accomplished, much less a friendship.

Jesus knew that there were some people who would never like him.  And he didn’t waste energy worrying about them.

Onward, Insecure Christian Soldiers

I have come to believe that, often, we are quick to jump into an argument, even a flame war to defend God (or our version of Him) because deep down we secretly believe that God needs defending, that maybe He is insecure and has poor self-esteem and we need Him to know that someone loves him, that someone has it right about Him.

Maybe our race to loudly defend our version of God is because it is we who are insecure about who we believe God to be.  Ultimately, the God we worship says something about us.  And when God is attacked, we feel attacked and insecure.  Maybe we are actually defending our honor, our intelligence, our righteousness, not God’s.  If we truly found our identities and confidence in who God is, maybe we would be content to let God talk to us, and we talk with Him, and let everyone else say what they want to.

What do you think?  Is our pride and reputation our most important possession?

Yesterday, for the first time ever, I’m proud to say I published an article at Relevant Magazine.  I hope you’ll take a look at it over there after the little preview!

There’s no shortage of statistics and sociologists bemoaning the trend of Millennials dragging their feet into adulthood. The condescending label of “extended adolescence” has been slapped on to many a Millennial who is prolonging their years in school, living in their parents’ basement, putting off marriage and shrugging off financial independence and responsibility.

The world says, “Grow up already!” But staying a kid at heart is the path to spiritual fulfillment.

Probably like most of you, I spent much of my childhood wishing I could just skip ahead to whatever was next, because whatever was next always seemed better. And here I am today, still wishing I could fast-forward to the next event, the next accomplishment, the next whatever.

But when we start hitting our twenties and beyond, many young adults fear that they have somehow “failed to launch.” Maybe it’s being stuck in a lousy job or still being financially dependent on their parents or still being single. Maybe we’re doing OK, but we just believed that we should be uber-successful by age 23. Essentially, many people wish they could just grow up already. You know, fast-forward to the good stuff.

Continue to find five childlike qualities we ought to keep, even as adults at Relevant Magazine.