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Alright, I admit it. It bothered me. “Kyle” left a comment on a post calling me an “anti-Christian conformist“. Maybe it’s because it’s just so opposite of what I hope to be. I mean, if at the end of all things that’s how I turn out, then I have really failed. Maybe that’s why that name was so bothersome — because I’m afraid of it. No, it’s not the first time I’ve been called a name. In college I was labeled “that white boy who bends the truth” by a dorm mate with darker skin than mine and what some might call a more conservative theology. I’m not sure which was worse to the guy who said it: the “white” or the “bends the truth”. Anyway, I think this particular person and I could laugh at that name now, and though he is still sure I am the one thing, I think he’d extend me the benefit of the doubt on the other. When my wife and I were doing our premarital counseling, she and our counselor seemed to enjoy poking fun at the golden boy image I had around college and in churches. Our counselor coined a title for me: “HHBB — His Holiness Brother Ben“. It really bothered me. I’m not sure why. Perhaps because I was a little too goody-two-shoes and I secretly wanted to be a screaming rebel. Or it could be that I felt sainthood was the ultimate alienation, and I was afraid of that isolation. There is one name that was meant to sting, but still makes me laugh: “High Mystic Ruler Ben”. There was a guy who once came to me for help, and through some miscommunication and general human brokenness left very upset — upset enough to stalk me for about a week. Somehow, he has the idea that I have a cult following who line my pockets with cash and bow at my feet. The irony is, nothing could be further from the truth. Among the faith communities I have helped to start, none of them pay me a thing and my reputation among them is anything but “high” or “mystic”. It’s really “down” and “dirty”. There are a few names I’ve been called that have really impacted me deeply. When a friend who has really walked with me through thick-and-thin, ups-and-downs calls me “brother” — there aren’t even words. When my wife calls me “hubby”, it simply feels like home. Some day soon, I will have a son who will call me “daddy”, and I think the world will change beneath my feet. When my Father calls me “my child” the glory of the heavens wraps me. Jesus names me “friend” and my destiny lays open before my quickened feet. Oh God, give us the names of grace. Only you know us, so only you can name us.
Original content at: http://blog.thetruthtree.com/?p=32.
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Scott Bartchy is a radical. He believes in a subversive system that embraces those on the fringes of our society and seeks to establish a new way of life that goes against the status quo.