"You can put the blame on me" -- AKon

As I was just putting in a few loads of laundry, I ran into a girl who lived on my floor last year. She was always incredibly sweet -- a great listener, genuinely concerned about the people around her even more than the RAs who "cared" as a job. She was shy and soft-spoken, but she made genuine efforts to connect with the other girls. When spring came around, she applied to be an RA herself -- a job I think she would have excelled in. (She didn't get it, which shocked me.)

I ran into her in the laundry room. We discussed Torrey Bible Conference, which just wrapped up today. And she told me something totally surprising -- she plans to leave Biola.

Being a huge fan of this school to the point of promoting it to prospective students on mass-produced brochures, things like this hit me hard. Sure, there are lots of people unhappy at this school, and every person has their own reason. Many times, I don't relate, but at the same time, I understand.

I asked her how long she'd felt this way, and she said since the first semester! For her, some of it was a less-than-stellar academic program in her major. But it was also the community -- a community that she felt wasn't much different than the world.

I've been thinking a lot about this topic this semester. Here we are, 5,600 professing Christians in a Bible-saturated institution in southern California. Yet 90 percent of the time, we've got no better community than the Rotary club. We're doing things no more noble -- and often less noble -- than the Red Cross. We're just a comfortable, sometimes fuzzy little club of Christians, the majority of whom have never been persecuted or severely tested in their faith. How do we even know we could stand when it really counts?

At the same time, my friend and I discussed how we can't keep pointing fingers at this generalized "non-spiritual majority" of the school. I don't know their hearts. And as far as this institution goes, it's imperfect, but it has some VERY godly leaders at the helm. Blaming this problem on institutionalized apathy is just plain arrogant.

At this point, my conclusion is rather simple. If there's a lack of spirituality and godliness at Biola, if the community and the love is lacking, what's holding me back from changing it? What's holding me back from ministering and loving to the point of recklessness? What's holding me back from seeking God with all my heart even when I don't feel close to him? What's holding me back from loving these brothers and sisters.

Simple answer: me. It doesn't have to be this way, and if I want Biola to be any different from the world, I better start by asking God to reform me.

A-Kon said it best in his new song (which is an apology for dirty dancing with an underaged girl onstage during one of his performances) -- "You can put the blame on me."