This morning, I, like millions of Christian around the world, stood in front of a priest or minister and had a blessing said over me, followed by a thumbsmear of gritty, oily ash in the shape of a cross. I was awash in the hymns, the sacred space, the knowledge that I stood in line behind the millions who had went before me, the belonging to a centuries old community that professes to know something of life and death, fear and hope. Here, I fully belonged.

And then I went to the bank.

I stood in line, patiently waiting my chance to deposit my check. The line was long and, as I stood there, people’s eyes would pass over me and then do a double take. Or they would stare at my ashy, greasy head and then, when I would make eye contact, jerk their eyes away, denying their curiosity. It took me a minute to remember that I had this greasy smear of ash on my head. As much as I hate to admit it, I felt the urge to pull my watch cap further down my head, to hide the ashes, to avoid the stares. To avoid feeling like the “Other”.

My ADD riddled brain then made the jump to thinking about others who’s religion requires of them a symbol or outward sign. The Islamic woman’s Hijab, the Hindu Tilak, the curly sidelocks of the Hasidic Jew, the plain clothes of the more conservative Mennonite groups, the horse and buggy of the Amish. All people who do not fit in, all people who are identified by mainstream society as “Other” because of their devotion to their God. In a very minor move of solidarity with them, I removed my watch cap, ashes in full view.

Christianity is an invisible faith – outwardly, anyway. Since there is no crazy Jesus fish on my bumper, there are no outward signs of my daily decision to follow in the way of Jesus. Nothing to make me stand out. I am not seen as the “Other”.

In this world, I appear to belong. Maybe that is the problem. Maybe that we so seldom know the feeling of being the “Other” is what makes it so easy for us to “Otherize” those who differ from us.

I know the ashes story – the mourning, the sadness, the reminder of our creation from dust and our inevitable return to it, even as, as my friend Ashley said this morning, “…our souls live in eternity with God”. But today, ashes on my head, I am, in a very minor way, the “Other” and it is my prayer that I remember that feeling.

Naked Pastor, again.

I have gotten several emails from folks who have noticed I am not blogging or twittering or whatever all that much lately, and were wondering if something was wrong.

No, not really. I am just in a phase in my life right now where something had to give, and right now it has to be my online community.

I got married at the end of October, but all of October was a blur, what with family in from out of town, planning for the wedding, moving into the new place and so on.  Then we went out of town, thanks to the generosity of some friends, and spent a week at the beach. Then I came back and entered what was my busiest two months in recent memory- speaking and traveling and writing and so on. And then came Christmas and Thanksgiving. The last week of the year found Renee in the hospital, having surgery to try to fix one of the major symptoms of her heart disease.

In short, if I want to look for the last “normal” week I had, it was somewhere back in September.

Until last week, which was the first week after her surgery that Renee felt completely normal and we could resume (or rather begin) our normal, day to day life. So we are fine – just living. We are trying to establish a rhythm of life – both of us work best with routine and schedules – to gain a sense of what “normal” looks like for us.

So bear with us, would you?

I hope to return to blogging regularly (for fun) soon. Until then, it will be sporadic and crazy – but you are never far from my thoughts.

The images and stories coming out of Haiti are heart breaking. Many of us want to do something, anything, and yet we have no idea what to do, or how to do it. And several people have asked me what I thought, and if I had any insight on how to help.

There are many legitimate organizations down there, doing good work. And yet, I heard yesterday how the FBI had shut down an organization that was fraudulent and was scamming people who were taking advantage of peoples emaotions and good intentions. Who do you trust?

Here are the organizations I know and trust – I am not saying these are the only ones, or even the best ones. But I am saying I know the people who run these. I have eaten with them, laughed with them, had real conversations with them and feel their love and passion for the people of Haiti. In short, I trust them, and you can too.

Hearts and Hands for Haiti is ran by Stan Weibe, who lives here in Raleigh with his wife Patty. They are good, decent people who have been working in Haiti a long time. Stan was in Port-au-Prince when the earthquake struck and is currently on site. (Donate here)

Haiti Partners is ran by two friends of mine, John Engle and Kent Annan.  They are doing good work in Haiti and have for years. I met them through Tony Campolo, who is a huge supporter and advocate for their work and for Haiti Partners.  John was in Port-au-Prince when the earthquake struck and Kent is in South Florida, rounding up stuff to take to Haiti ASAP. (Donate here)

So there you go – the two organizations I know and trust in Haiti. I trust these organizations with my money, and you can too.

Whether you send money or not, please keep Stan, Patty, John and Kent  – along with the millions of Haitians – in your thoughts and prayers.

Back in January of 2009, I got an email from Karen Spears Zacharias – a writer who was working up a book for Zondervan on the relationship between money and Christianity. She asked me if I had anything to say.

Boy, did I.

She came down on very cold day in February and watched us eat biscuits and coffee with some of our friends who live outside. We then went to Starbucks (she was buying – what can I say) and she picked my brain for the next 4 hours or so.

We talked about how a white-bread middle-class guy ended up working directly with the very poor and homeless. We talked about how money screws up our perceptions and how we have turned God into a kindly Santa Clause who loves us more than he does “them” – whoever “them” happens to be right now.

In any event, she went home and worked her writerly magic on my no-doubt rambling thoughts and turned it into a chapter of her newest book – Will Jesus Buy Me a Double wide (’Cause I Need More Room for my Plasma TV).

Here is the copy from the back of the book:

What does it really mean to be blessed by God? With Southern charm and razor-sharp wit in Will Jesus Buy Me a Double-Wide?, author Karen Spears Zacharias shows how the prosperity gospel has led us astray from true Christianity and helped create people and churches focused on greed. Zacharias unpacks story after story of families and individuals using the name of God as a means to living their own good life. You’ll hear shocking tales of those who exploit the gospel for their own gain, and mega-evangelists who live in million-dollar mansions with children groomed from the cradle to sell the message of Christ while their parents rake in the cash. Discover churches that have modeled themselves on Wall Street and unbridled materialism, and see what is happening to them now. Is this the good life? You’ll also meet some unlikely folks who live with genuine biblical integrity. People who know that God is more than some cosmic genie who gives them an easy life, a fat bank account, and a second home in an exotic location. Come discover stories about authentic Christianity and the true good life in Will Jesus Buy Me a Double-Wide?

I have read it, and I have to tell you, she makes me sound great! Seriously, the book is hitting the shelves the beginning of March – but you can preorder your copy now. In fact, preordering is good for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that all the books that are preorderd count as sales (for bestseller lists, etc.) on the first day. And pretty much, the first week’s sales are what determine if a book is successful or not.

We are going to try to get her to come back to North Carolina to promote this thing. If and when she does, we will promote the heck out of that puppy.

{B]etween the Christianity of this land, and the Christianity of Christ, I recognize the widest, possible difference–so wide, that to receive the one as good, pure, and holy, is of necessity to reject the other as bad, corrupt, and wicked. To be the friend of the one, is of necessity to be the enemy of the other. I love the pure, peaceable, and impartial Christianity of Christ: I therefore hate the corrupt, slaveholding, women-whipping, cradle-plundering, partial and hypocritical Christianity of this land. Indeed, I can see no reason, but the most deceitful one, for calling the religion of this land Christianity. I look upon it as the climax of all misnomers, the boldest of all frauds, and the grossest of all libels.

From Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglas