I am ecstatic to let the world know that the OFFICIAL RELEASE DATE FOR MY BOOK is March 31st! I am also slightly terrified. I am well aware of the risk I am taking with this. I think there is something in there to offend everybody...Catholics will be sad that I grew up among them, but didn't join the Catholic church; Christians might be annoyed that I poke fun at "Christian-ese" terms like "accepting Christ into your heart," "quiet times," and that I wrote extensively on why worship music makes me uncomfortable; and Jews will be angry because...well, the obvious reasons.
But, just like my position as a columnist for my campus newspaper, I didn't write this to make friends. I wrote it to share something close to my heart, something that God might use for good in the life of someone who has been where I've been, felt what I've felt.
Sometimes I'm so excited about my dream coming true I want to do cartwheels (I actually did do cartwheels in the break room at work when I checked my email on my phone and saw the cover for the first time), and other times, I want to rip my fingernails off in anxiousness of how people will react.
But, after praying profusely about it for 2 years, I know this is a risk I am willing to take. For every passage that has the possibility to offend, I think there are plenty more for people of all walks of life to identify with: parents who must reconcile with their children breaking from tradition; college students who are struggling to stand by a friend whom they believe is making an unwise choice...and anyone who has ever struggled with doubt and considered giving up on faith altogether. I truly believe there is something here for the seeker in everyone.
Here's to leaving my mark. And here's the link to, ya know, order it (if you want): http://www.amazon.com/Confessions-Prodigal-Daughter-Sarahbeth-Caplin/dp/1612440673/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1332527592&sr=1-1
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Monday, March 19, 2012
The tale of the unlikely pariah... is getting published!
Holy crapcakes, guys. It's finally happening.
"It" is my lifelong dream of becoming a writer...a published writer. Check it out...
This is my biggest accomplishment to date, but more than that, it's also the most terrifying thing I'll ever do (for now). It's funny, because I started writing it two years ago not to eventually become a book, but because I was tired of not knowing how to answer the common question of "How exactly does a Jew end up becoming a Christian?" I ended up writing about 60 pages before actually getting to that part, because I realized this is a story that actually spans across my entire life. So what started as a personal essay ended up becoming a book.
I realize that I don't "have" to do this. But I feel like I need to, because I think my journey is important. I know that probably sounds arrogant, but I say this because the reality is, many churches do not include the rich history of the Old Testament in their sermons. Many churches are unaware of how to reach out to Jewish people without ostracizing them, making them feel "targeted" as they have been ever since the days of Moses. I have witnessed this in my own life from both sides of the spiritual fence now, and there is much work to be done to repair the relationship between Jews and Christians. My life has sort of become a testimony to that.
Aside from all the theological issues many people will disagree with, I'm prepared for the inevitable criticism about how I'm too young to write a memoir. By definition, a memoir is a self-indulgent work, but I didn't try to act like I was advanced enough in my faith to pretend to be another C.S. Lewis or Anne Lamott. This is a book to comfort others who might be in that "spiritual orphancy" state I was in for a while, not really feeling like they belong anywhere. It's a book for all the Jewish friends in my life who asked me "Why," and the Christian ones who asked me "How."
I don't think there's any "right" age where you're considered world-weary enough to write a book about your life, just like there's no "right" age to be married. If you have a story, then you should share it. Experience and age are two different things.
That being said, I didn't want to write a story from the perspective of someone who has everything figured out. Maybe I'll have a better idea of how this whole Christian thing works by the time I'm 60, but the journey probably won't be as relatable then. The age I am now is when I will make the decisions that determine the outcome of the rest of my life. If I waited until I was older to write this book, it probably wouldn't be as relevant to the young adult audience I am trying to reach. I don't want to be someone for others to look up to. I want to be someone who makes people say, "Thank goodness I'm not the only one who's been there/felt that way, I'm not weird after all!" Or something like that. That's all.
There's one passage I prize most in this book, about how Christians are called to be "pariahs" of this world. How can we not be? We don't conform to society's cultural norms. We stick out like sore thumbs with a "Puritanical" label for holding on to values that are as old as Adam and Eve. But me, well, I've always felt like a special kind of pariah. That's where the title comes from. One group thinks I've strayed...and the other says I've come home. It's an interesting, confusing place to be in.
Anyway, pre-ordering on Amazon will be available in 5-7 business days... If ten people end up reading it, that will still be worth it to me. The people who are meant to read it will find it. Or so I hope.
"It" is my lifelong dream of becoming a writer...a published writer. Check it out...
This is my biggest accomplishment to date, but more than that, it's also the most terrifying thing I'll ever do (for now). It's funny, because I started writing it two years ago not to eventually become a book, but because I was tired of not knowing how to answer the common question of "How exactly does a Jew end up becoming a Christian?" I ended up writing about 60 pages before actually getting to that part, because I realized this is a story that actually spans across my entire life. So what started as a personal essay ended up becoming a book.
I realize that I don't "have" to do this. But I feel like I need to, because I think my journey is important. I know that probably sounds arrogant, but I say this because the reality is, many churches do not include the rich history of the Old Testament in their sermons. Many churches are unaware of how to reach out to Jewish people without ostracizing them, making them feel "targeted" as they have been ever since the days of Moses. I have witnessed this in my own life from both sides of the spiritual fence now, and there is much work to be done to repair the relationship between Jews and Christians. My life has sort of become a testimony to that.
Aside from all the theological issues many people will disagree with, I'm prepared for the inevitable criticism about how I'm too young to write a memoir. By definition, a memoir is a self-indulgent work, but I didn't try to act like I was advanced enough in my faith to pretend to be another C.S. Lewis or Anne Lamott. This is a book to comfort others who might be in that "spiritual orphancy" state I was in for a while, not really feeling like they belong anywhere. It's a book for all the Jewish friends in my life who asked me "Why," and the Christian ones who asked me "How."
I don't think there's any "right" age where you're considered world-weary enough to write a book about your life, just like there's no "right" age to be married. If you have a story, then you should share it. Experience and age are two different things.
That being said, I didn't want to write a story from the perspective of someone who has everything figured out. Maybe I'll have a better idea of how this whole Christian thing works by the time I'm 60, but the journey probably won't be as relatable then. The age I am now is when I will make the decisions that determine the outcome of the rest of my life. If I waited until I was older to write this book, it probably wouldn't be as relevant to the young adult audience I am trying to reach. I don't want to be someone for others to look up to. I want to be someone who makes people say, "Thank goodness I'm not the only one who's been there/felt that way, I'm not weird after all!" Or something like that. That's all.
There's one passage I prize most in this book, about how Christians are called to be "pariahs" of this world. How can we not be? We don't conform to society's cultural norms. We stick out like sore thumbs with a "Puritanical" label for holding on to values that are as old as Adam and Eve. But me, well, I've always felt like a special kind of pariah. That's where the title comes from. One group thinks I've strayed...and the other says I've come home. It's an interesting, confusing place to be in.
Anyway, pre-ordering on Amazon will be available in 5-7 business days... If ten people end up reading it, that will still be worth it to me. The people who are meant to read it will find it. Or so I hope.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Religion is not a crutch to me
The day before the shootings in Chardon, the topic of discussion in church was about Job. Now if that's just a coincidence, I beg to differ.
I don't understand how nihilism benefits anyone. Are tragic events really the random product of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Accidents that ultimately have no meaning, so we suck up the pain and get on with life?
I do not understand how any of this is encouraging to people struggling with grief. It's interesting for me to analyze the many ways that people make or break with religion. It seems there are two kinds of religious people: those who quit when life throws them too many curveballs, or those who lean into it like they never have before when it's all they have left.
This brings up the old cliche about the way many people perceive faith: it's a comfort mechanism, something to provide solace in the face of tragedy. It's "nice" to imagine our loved ones smiling and happy in heaven as we are grieving for them here on earth. It's healing for us to imagine they aren't suffering anymore.
But this brings up a crucial misconception of what faith is (or, in this case, what it isn't). I think the real tragedy here is that so many Christians and non-Christians alike have this idea that a life lived for God is a life of comfort. Well, we need not look any further than all the countless saints who suffered throughout history, not to mention Jesus Christ himself, to know that this is not true.
Faith is risky. Faith makes us vulnerable. It does not guarantee safety. It doesn't shield us from heartbreak.
So why is it worth it?
Because we can know that suffering, in any form, is never wasted. It is not random or meaningless. Maybe this knowledge is still perceived as comfort food for some, but using religion as a "crutch" just to get through a bad time does not produce refinement of character or a stable foundation of strength...we have to understand that no one is immune to suffering regardless of how "good" they are. The friends of Job from the Old Testament were convinced that he must have done something awful to deserve all the boils and the loss of his family...but no one has higher standing than another because of how "moral" they are.
All of us are vulnerable, but none of us is excluded from belonging to something bigger than ourselves. It's simply unrealistic to expect that that "master plan" can take place without some degree of pain.
I don't understand how nihilism benefits anyone. Are tragic events really the random product of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Accidents that ultimately have no meaning, so we suck up the pain and get on with life?
I do not understand how any of this is encouraging to people struggling with grief. It's interesting for me to analyze the many ways that people make or break with religion. It seems there are two kinds of religious people: those who quit when life throws them too many curveballs, or those who lean into it like they never have before when it's all they have left.
This brings up the old cliche about the way many people perceive faith: it's a comfort mechanism, something to provide solace in the face of tragedy. It's "nice" to imagine our loved ones smiling and happy in heaven as we are grieving for them here on earth. It's healing for us to imagine they aren't suffering anymore.
But this brings up a crucial misconception of what faith is (or, in this case, what it isn't). I think the real tragedy here is that so many Christians and non-Christians alike have this idea that a life lived for God is a life of comfort. Well, we need not look any further than all the countless saints who suffered throughout history, not to mention Jesus Christ himself, to know that this is not true.
Faith is risky. Faith makes us vulnerable. It does not guarantee safety. It doesn't shield us from heartbreak.
So why is it worth it?
Because we can know that suffering, in any form, is never wasted. It is not random or meaningless. Maybe this knowledge is still perceived as comfort food for some, but using religion as a "crutch" just to get through a bad time does not produce refinement of character or a stable foundation of strength...we have to understand that no one is immune to suffering regardless of how "good" they are. The friends of Job from the Old Testament were convinced that he must have done something awful to deserve all the boils and the loss of his family...but no one has higher standing than another because of how "moral" they are.
All of us are vulnerable, but none of us is excluded from belonging to something bigger than ourselves. It's simply unrealistic to expect that that "master plan" can take place without some degree of pain.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)