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“This book is one more sign of a fresh movement in the church.”
author, The Irresistible Revolution
Dillon Burroughs has defended the faith as a writer, speaker, and professor. But when he asked himself how he was helping a homeless guy in his city or a hungry family in Darfur, everything started to unravel. Now, with renewed vision, disarming candor, and deep respect for the church, Burroughs gently leads readers through a reassessment of hot-button topics like these:
- Jesus was a friend of sinners and consumed alcohol. How did that work?
- He also said to love neighbors, sinners, and enemies. Does loving homosexuals fit in there somewhere?
- Why are the odds in America stacked against the success of a traditional marriage?
Burroughs provides a safe place for spiritually minded and culturally savvy people to process their questions and find a more relevant and Christlike faith.
|Publisher:||Harvest House Publishers|
|Sold by:||Barnes & Noble|
|File size:||286 KB|
About the Author
Table of Contents
Author's Note 9
1 Friend of Sinners, King of Beers 11
2 Church's Chicken Versus My Church 15
3 Hollywood and Flaming Liberals 21
4 I Love Homosexuals Even Though I'm Straight 27
5 Ending Slavery Begins with Me…and You 33
6 Beyond Awareness 39
7 Porn Is Not the Problem-You Are (Dude Chapter) 45
8 Racism Makes Me Want to Cuss 49
9 Thanks, Dad! 53
10 Divorce Sucks Big Time 59
11 Pastors Like About Sex 65
12 Goths, the Amish, Baristas, and Other People Who Like to Wear Black 71
13 Sin Is Cool. Then You Die 77
14 Homeless Church 83
15 Why the Poor Matter More Than Your New Car 87
16 Membership Matters, but Only to American Express 93
17 The Day I Dropped Oat of School 99
18 If Jesus Had a Blog 107
19 "I Caught You a Delicious Bass" 115
20 Death by Potlucks and Krispy Kremes 121
21 Why I Might Get Fired 127
22 To All the Haters 133
My Wake-Up Call: Helping Haiti 137
Bonus Material: That Jesus 147
I remember the first day I decided to write in a journal. It was to start the year 2000 (That is, if Y2K didn’t mean the end of the universe!). I promised myself to write every day, even if just a few lines, to help me remember the past and learn from it. Over the next five years I missed twelve days, only about twice per year.
Those journals now rot in a duct-taped box from three moves back in some unknown location in my office or garage. I’m not sure which.
Those pages are filled with raw, unedited prayers and confessions, unfulfilled dreams and personal struggles. Immature, superficial at times, yet deeply authentic.
Now, nearly five years after I stopped the daily practice (kids, moving, and multiple jobs at the same time can wreck the best of habits), I wonder how often I write with the same raw energy and passion. When every word is counted, line edited with tracking changes through multiple editors, and printed at the cheapest price point for the maximum retail price for a mysterious end consumer, what is often lost is the fact that much of my writing is a collection of thoughts. Memories. Remembrances of what has happened, how I perceive those moments, and how I now communicate them to others.
Of course, a person interested in the latest insights on Lost or who wants to know how many ancient manuscripts exist for the New Testament could probably care less about my personal issues. He or she is looking for information, not my experiences.
No one wants to know about the first girl I kissed or why I still bite my fingernails or how I still struggle with whether I’m being a loving dad.
But God does.
That’s the great thing (one of many great things) about God in the Christian sense. He not only made us; He loves every moment with us. It doesn’t matter if my thoughts are about sports or the economy. God just loves me, plain and simple.
The scariest part about this overwhelming truth is that I am supposed to reflect God’s image. I am supposed to love people like you the same way God loves me. No offense, but that’s a challenge. When I read someone’s tweet or blog about having fish for dinner or upset about the latest news headline, I usually tune out (if I see it at all). Life is just too short.
But God is infinite. He has all the time in the universe. He created time. He’s never looking at His watch or iPhone or texting during my conversations with Him. He listens to every word and even cares about what I’m saying.
In contrast with popular belief, however, God goes beyond listening. God also provides advice. Great advice. Many times it is found right in between the black covers of His Book. Sometimes He answers through circumstances or prayer or a nasty rejection letter. But He does speak.
If only I would listen, I’d discover He has a lot more to say than I give Him credit for. So I guess the place to start would be to listen to Him better—through prayer, through His writings, through His leadings.
Then I would listen to you better, too. Because you matter. To God. And to me.
So let’s make a little deal or agreement or pinky promise together here. I’ll do my best to listen to God and to your feedback as you read and reflect. For your part, I hope you’ll do the same. Listen to God. Consider some of the words you’ll read along the way. Together, we might just become more like the people God has called us to be.
Dillon Burroughs is an activist and the author or coauthor of nearly 30 books on issues of faith and culture. He has served among at-risk American youth, constructed housing in Mexico’s barrios, provided aid relief in Haiti, and was most recently nominated for a CNN Hero award for his efforts to fight human trafficking. His written and edited works have been featured by NPR, MSNBC, ABC News, and other media outlets.
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