American Christians and reconciliation (political and otherwise).

As I watched the inauguration today, there were several thoughts racing through my head.  I live in a conservative state, where at times it seems the "quality"of your spirituality is measured by your allegiance to the Republican Party and the conservative agenda.  This was intensified during the past election.  As I talk to friends, relatives and acquaintances, I sense a mood of anger and bitterness among those who have lent their devotion to the conservative agenda and were handed what they consider to be a grave defeat.  Many of my fellow believers are left asking, "What now?" 

It is apparent to me, now more than ever, that we live in a divided country.  I live in a divided state and a divided city that is the epicenter of a church in the middle of an identity crisis.  These divisions run deep.  They cross over politics and ideology and overflow into ethical divisions and racial divisions.  This is ultimately what affects our communal identity.  We forget that we are followers of Christ offering the world an alternate way of existence, and we become Republicans or Democrats who also happen to be Christians. 

As I search the scriptures, I am reminded of the Apostle Paul, who reminded a church in tumultuous times to pray for their political leaders, no matter what their opinions might be of said leaders.  I am reminded that we have been given a specific ministry of reconciling the world not only to Christ, but to each other, regardless of our cultural ideologies.  I am reminded that it was Jesus who told us that whatever we do to the least of these in our minds, we do to him (Who are the "least of these" to you and me?).

Love or hate his policies (Hopefully you don't actually hate him.), we must pray for Barack Obama.  Whether conservative or liberal, we must look to each our neighbors and scandalously give our love and support.  Whether we agree or disagree with each other, we must see the image of God in our neighbors and acknowledge their value.

So now, my brothers and sisters, may we step outside and shake the hands of those with whom we harbor disagreements.  May we live, laugh, and love with those we feel we have nothing in common with.  And may we minister reconciliation in our hearts, churches, neighborhoods, families, and places of employment.  May we see Jesus when we look into the eyes of those we cannot stand.

Be Blessed!

Sometimes, life hurts

It was Halloween night when we found out that Lindsey was pregnant.  My initial feeling was a mix of shock and panic, followed almost immediately by excitement at the prospect of being a father.  Ever since I knew Lindsey, I was positive that she was going to make an amazing mother.  We would walk through restaurants and children would jump out of their chairs and follow her with arms outstretched (This actually happens).  So there we were just a couple months ago; a mess of emotions and adjusting to the idea that we would be parents. 

Wednesday night, Lindsey started bleeding and cramping.  She called me Thursday and told me to pick her up from work because she was scared she was miscarrying.  The bleeding persisted through Saturday night, when we decided to take Lindsey to the emergency room.  We left with more questions than answers when the only advice they could give us was to see her doctor ASAP.  This morning, Lindsey's doctor confirmed our fears.  There was no heartbeat on the ultrasound and the baby had not grown much since the last visit. 

I could never worship a God who made things like this happen just to teach us a valuable lesson.  I can, however, worship a God who joins us in our pain and makes us better people in the process of going through trials.  Lindsey and I take great comfort in knowing that we are not alone, and understanding that something good will come from something bad. 

Grace and peace to all of our friends.  Your prayers are very much appreciated.

Embracing the Chaotic

Disclaimer:  This random stream of consciousness is the product of too much coffee consumed during a late night.  Enjoy……

Lately, I have come to the realization that life is in a constant state of flux.  At least my life seems to have been that way as far back as I can remember.  I used to resist it.  I used to deny it.  I now feel less inclined to choose either of those options and simply accept and embrace the reality that life is full of chaos.  Chaos is not necessarily a bad thing.  It just simply means that events in life are not as predictable as I had previously believed. 

Update:  I realize that it seems like an eternity since I have last graced the blogosphere with my presence, but this is for good reason.  In August, I left the church of my youth and began a new journey with a church that better embodies what Lindsey and I feel called to do as part of the Body of Christ.  This means that I am no longer occupationally a minister to youth.  I am now a manager at a fledgling pizza restaurant in the heart of downtown Tulsa’s party district.  This is a way of paying the bills, meeting interesting people I wouldn’t otherwise come into contact with, and shattering people’s misconceptions of what it means to follow Jesus in our current context.  Lindsey and I have also purchased and moved into a new house on the north side of town (the “black” part of town), with the desire to be a blessing to our neighbors and a small embodiment of racial reconciliation.

Picking up where I left off:  If you had told me one year ago that Lindsey and I would be where we are, attempting to do what we are doing, I would have thought that you were out of your mind.  Now, it feels quite natural to think that where we currently are is the next step in the journey. 

Embracing disorder and uncertainty as the metaphor in which we live means that we must dive deeper into the faith of our forefathers, who accepted martyrdom as a possibility at any moment.  Embracing chaos means that we accept the reality that life is full of surprises.  It means we take each twist and turn in life with a healthy level of responsibility, understanding that we choose how we respond to each circumstance in which we find ourselves.  It also means that we must find some type of stability in a community of likeminded people who are also attempting to live in this state of chaos and flux, understanding our calling as priests of God and our duty to distribute grace to one another. 

So what now?  Now it’s time to go to bed so I can be rested for whatever tomorrow or even tonight may hold.  Now is also time to turn out the light and get my beautiful wife some water.  Did I mention that she’s pregnant?  Time for more chaos.

My Resignation Letter

To the Body of Christ at Southpark Community Church,

When I was a newborn, my parents held me close in their arms and carried me through the doors of this church.  They found this to be a place of love and acceptance.  The years found my family bouncing around from church to church, only for me to return to Southpark in high school.  It was at this church that I graduated.  It was this church that paid scholarships for my college experience.  It was this church that mentored me and it was at this church that I married my beautiful wife, Lindsey.  It was in February of 2007 that we embarked on a journey together with me as the youth minister of this church.  When interviewing, we told the board and the search committee that we had dreams of eventually starting a new church.  We let them know that depending upon the Lord’s will and timing, we might look for such an opportunity within two years of taking the job at Southpark.  Recently, I had a friend approach Lindsey and I.  He that mentioned he was beginning a new church in the Tulsa area and said that he believed we would make a good fit.  After much talk and prayer, we have decided that it is time to seize this opportunity.  As of July 31^st, I will no longer be on staff at Southpark Community Church.  I want to thank you for giving a young couple such as Lindsey and I the chance to impact this current generation for Christ and His Kingdom.  Thank you for your prayers and support.

In His Service and Yours,

Ryan Boyls

My Personal Narrative: Part 3 and a Footnote

The Footnote:

I've been dying to give the next part of my personal narrative, but a lightning storm fried our modem at home, and my work schedule has not allowed for enough time to give to such personal exercises as blogging.  Thank God for things like birthdays.  I turn 26 today, which means that even though it's a work day, I can still choose the option of saying, "I think I'll work out of the office today."  Anyway.  Someone commented on my last entry and asked me the question, "What happened to your old church?  If God was visiting in such powerful ways, what happened to make the enterprize go belly-up (These are not his exact words of course)?"

Here's what I remember (Remember, these memories are years old and may or may not be 100% accurate.  I was 14 at the time.):

The church at the time was going through an interesting period.  Miracles like the ones that I wrote about in my last entry were an almost weekly occurrence.  People were losing their addictions, coming to Christ, and we had developed a relationship with residents at a dilapidated trailer park up the street.  All seemed to be going well, but underneath the surface, there was a quiet tension that people could feel, but no one could "put their finger on." 

We had regular revival meetings at the church in which we would bring in speakers and guests from around the country who were gifted in specific areas.  For one such revival, we welcomed a renowned Church of God pastor by the name of Claude Robold.  Claude spoke every night with fervor and opened up people's minds to the Holy Spirit and his power.  One event stands out in my mind as a defining moment in the life of this church.  It was Claude's last night with us.  When he got up to speak, he looked incredibly disturbed and began his message like this:  "It's not terribly often that this happens, but last night, God gave me a dream about your church and I'm supposed to share it with you.  In my dream, a man was standing at a boating dock.  He had one foot in a boat and the other, he had placed solidly on the dock.  There was a voice calling to him, saying, 'Push off!  Go into the water.  There is so much to explore, so much to experience.'  The man cried out in response, 'I can't!  I'm too afraid!'  I woke up immediately after this dream worried, and asked The Holy Spirit what this means.  In an unmistakeable voice, he told me that the man represents your church.  He says that you are at a pivotal point and you must make a decision who you will trust.  If I were you, I would trust him, because there is much to be done."

It was not too long after this happened that the church folded.  I don't blame any specific person or groups of people for this happening.  I know that in the aftermath, many were hurting and angry, but over time, we found that we had all grown because of what happened.  Out of that church, many of the youth who attended are in some form of ministry and the laity of the church went on the help plant other churches and lead vibrant ministries around our area.

Part 3:

After that particular stage in my development, I became acquainted with some great friends who attended a church in a small town outside the vast metropolis of Tulsa.  That town is called Sapulpa (Oklahoma towns are so much fun to pronounce).  So my parents would make the 30 mile trip to Sapulpa twice, sometimes three time a week.  Looking back now, I realize what an incredible labor of love that was for them, especially since they attended a different church.  The group at Sapulpa embraced me with open arms.  The pastor's oldest son had an obsession with the Beattles and I felt welcomed as a part of his family (thanks Steveorino).  Friday nights consisted of driving around this small town and flirting with girls at local burger joints (man we were cool).  If one of us was handed money by our parents, we would chip in and buy feminine products and red Kool-Aid.  I carried a Super-Soaker in my car and we would slap a maxi-pad onto the gas pump of an old country truck stop and spray it with the red liquid.  This was "living the dream" to us.

When we weren't disturbing the peace, we honestly were studying the Bible or talking about what it meant to be a hormone-enraged Christian at the height of puberty.  I spent several years at this church, and this groups of friends deeply enriched my life.  I am grateful for those types of memories.  Eventually, the pastor left that church to start another ministry to the unchurched population of the area.  I quickly followed and continued to ask the question, "What does it mean to be the people of God?"

More later...