So, I was checking out the latest copy of Relevant Magazine, and John Fischer has contributed an article about a slam poet in Chicago.... a world and culture I know absolutely nothing about. Okay - well, maybe not nothing.... I have seen slam poets read before - just not in competition - which, I guess by definition means I have only seen poets that have been in slam competitions.... ANYWAY - the article caught my eye and got the rusty wheels a-turning.
He writes...
"... The poet reveals his own search for meaning in life as he left what was comfortable for a life on the streets. In a long litany of drugs and desperation, he chronicles how he tried every bad thing he could think of to do, as if bad behavior would somehow make him alive. At each new low, he concludes, 'It wasn't enough....
My life became a living hell
As I made the whole... world suck
But it wasn't enough
Because I am still waiting for Isaac
Because I am still waiting for laughter
For a progeny
That will live on
When I don't
I am still waiting for Isaac
For a re-birth of wonder
And for the intervening hand of a god
I never believed in the first place'
Waiting for a God he never believed in to intervene. Waiting for wonder. waiting for something meaningful enough to leave a legacy.... Isn't it poignant that as human beings ... we always seem to end up with God - or god - however we say it, even if we don't necessarily believe in Him? The created bear the mark of the Creator. Deny Him, and the mark is still there. It's an indelible image; it will not go away.
So how will [the poet] attempt to answer these questions? Can he? Maybe, maybe not, but he wile go home to write poems - poems about his own struggle with religion and faith and Jesus.... He will enter the poetry arena and compete on a level he has never been before, because he loves these people and has a message for them, but he will abide by their rules... They love him for his guts. They love him for his honesty and audacity to throw himself amd his faith into the mix. The love him because he makes the effort to speak in their own language instead of insisting they listen to his."
So I've been chewing on that for a day or so.
Nelson Mandela said, "If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his language, that goes to his heart."
This poet in the article is a Paul to a people group that would never hear anything I have to say - about Christ, about life, about the color of the sky even! He listens to them - and in turn they listen to him and are moved b/c he doesn't just speak in language they understand - but in their venacular. (I can not believe I just used that word.)
And the other day, as I was on my way to Punxsutawney PA for the most contrived holiday ever (that's another entry for another day) - I was talking to a friend about the challenge of being a Youth Leader. And as we ranted about a group of colleagues.... She turned and asked.... How do you act or BE cool so your youth will be engaged while demonstrating you don't have to be what the world sees as cool? What a scary questions. And what an undaunting task. Undaunting and yet it is still the job of anyone who wants to engage anyone in anything.
Of course I connected the conversation with the article - whether or not they really do connect.... and this is what I conclude at this moment. (I say this moment b/c it could change between me writing this and you reading it....)
How do you speak the heart language of the cool and uncool to present the Gospel in a relevant manner? I think it's not a matter of being cool. I'm not cool. I never was or ever will be "cool."
But I can be ME. I can be real. And I can be authentic.
Maybe in that authenticity - I will be able to speak to the authentic hearts of a generation ready to stand up and change the world they live in. If I admit my insecurities, and doubts, and personal brokenness, perhaps I can speak to those parts of them. Perhaps. Well, it's certainly my prayer.
That's all I got for today.
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