The Advent Song I want to sing someday

Seriously. . .one of my all-time favorites.




And this is another one.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas (Or, One of These Things is Not Like the Other)

In the name of inclusiveness and free speech, the Washington State Capitol has three displays up for the holiday season - all paid for and set up by non-government people or groups.

The first is the expected: the Nativity Scene. The second is becoming more visible in our culture: a menorah.

The third is the one raising both cheers and consternation from the locals: a sign set up by the Freedom from Religion Foundation.

Now, understand this. The folks at the FFR have as much right to voice their opinion in public as anybody else. The state can't choose favorites, allowing one group to set up shop while leaving the other out in the cold. Personally, while I disagree with the folks at the FFR over foundational worldview issues, and while I won't hesitate to say that I believe their atheism is wrong (since, as you know, I'm pretty certain there is a God), I believe that in America the FFR has the right to publicly declare their belief that they do not, in fact, believe there is a God. So count me among those who don't really care that the FFR set up their sign.

Except for this - This is the content of the sign:

Religion is but myth and superstition that hardens hearts and enslaves minds.

Which is not the same as simply stating "Hey! We don't believe in God!" See, they've gone beyond "I" language and turned instead to judgmental language - the very same thing they claim they're tired of religious people doing to them. The other two displays are artistic symbols and representations of deeply-held religious sentiments. Both are positive: there is Life here! There is Hope here!

Whereas the FFR folks have essentially set up a combative, over-and-against signpost, a denigrating, insulting, "we're better than everybody else," snide, pompous sign. A sign that essentially tells 95% of the world that they are feeble-minded sheep, mindlessly following empty books and boorish leaders.

So, I ask you. In the end, which is actually more offensive? The Christian and Jewish displays, or the "we're offended by you all" display from the FFR people? Which better fits the theme of "human love and goodwill toward all?" Which of these three is not like the others?

Thanksgiving Dinner Prep

 

An incomplete itemized list of things for which I am thankful

- I have two beautiful, healthy, sweet, exuberant daughters
- My parents raised me well
- I have the best job in the world. (subset: I suspect I work for the best church in the world)
- My eye surgery went well, and I'm well on the road to recovery
- The people around me appreciate me
- There is food in the pantry (and the fridge and the freezer, and in my stomach, as well)
- There's a car in the driveway (with gas in it)
- I'm surrounded by beauty - quiet bays, soaring mountains, whispering oaks, bald eagles, sea otters, sparrows, deer, ferrets
- My newly-acquired position in the Gig Harbor Peninsula Symphony Orchestra, which is re-awakening a long-dormant passion for symphonic trumpet playing
- My ongoing position in the Lakebay Community Church worship team, which gives space for my idiotic passion for the mandolin
- I get paid to hang out with God, study his Word, pray, and think deeply
- I also get paid to hang out with a lot of really cool people
- I get to watch God (and God's people) work in the lives of others
- I've been through hard times, and I can confess today that God has turned those trials into gold.
- all my blog friends, twitter friends, and facebook friends who stay in touch as the days go by
- I get to spend Thanksgiving with my parents, my brother and his family, my sister, and Karina and our two kids
- The Roberts' just gave us some fresh-pressed apple cider
- This Sunday we get to begin singing Advent music
- When I stopped at Steamers the other day, the muzak was Bing Crosby Christmas music
- The testimony of faithfulness I see in the lives of the people around me, some of whom are suffering greatly these days. You who deal with pain and yet get up every morning and do the things needing to be done - you inspire me.
- In a conversation today I was reminded to be thankful for the last church, who paid my way through seminary so I'm not saddled with a ton of debt.
- The way Clara says "Hey Dad - I love you!" at random moments.
- The way I can see Olivia trying really hard to please her mother and I
- A godly family heritage stretching back many generations - even to the Mayflower and before.
- Friends who disagree and thus stretch me to think harder and deeper about important life issues.
- A warm, dry bed on cold, rainy nights
- Fresh drinking water (did you know millions of people around the world don't have access to fresh water for drinking, cooking, bathing, etc.? Go watch that video below)
- Firewood that needs chopping
- The way God loves me.

A good reminder before the weekend

How did that hapoen?

I filled up the car today at the Arco in Gig Harbor. Gas was $1.799. We weren't completely empty, but still filled up for less than $20.

Never thought I'd see that again.

It's almost like getting an end-of-year raise, or an early Christmas bonus.

But to end the week on a happier note

Shad dropped off a CD the other day. And introduced me to Alli Rogers. And I am very grateful. Except that now I have another Christmas CD I need to buy.

Go check her out - you can hear a lot of the music just by going to her website. I think you'll like it.

I Hate AOL

I used to be a loyal AOL customer. Had an AOL address. Used AOL as my homepage. But I gradually grew tired of them.

I know, it's trendy to hate on AOL, but that's not the reason I disliked them. What did it for me was the celebrity-rag AOL front page. Every time I went online, Britney Spears was staring at me. Or Justin Timberlake. Or Cameron Diaz. AOL's front page was attempting to be a "news and information" portal, but it seemed the only news they thought I wanted was entertainment news. I emailed customer service, asking them if I could set my preferences to "literature" or "science" or "anything not related to pop culture," but nope. I was stuck with what I got.

So I took advantage of free internet access through my place of employment, switched to gmail, cancelled AOL, and never looked back.

Except that I kept Instant Messenger. Enough of the youth group kids did AIM that it seemed worth keeping, especially since it was free and relatively unobtrusive.

I still have AIM on my computer, and every once in awhile I'll see a former youth group member on there and we'll chat for a moment or two. But other than that, AOL is out of my life.

This morning, I got a "you need to upgrade AIM" message. And dutifully I clicked the "upgrade" button. I de-clicked all the options, like "make AOL your home page, your default search engine, the beneficiary on your life insurance, etc." Just trying to upgrade AIM, that's all I needed.

Once it was loaded, it restarted my Firefox browser. And guess what?

They've taken over. The first thing I see is this monstrous, black-trimmed AIM box taking up the right 1/4th of my screen. But even worse, my browser went right to the AOL homepage, where I was confronted with - guess who? - Britney Spears. and Paris Hilton. and "The Hills cast pics." and "Did your fav hottie get snubbed?" It's like opening up my latest edition of Harpers to discover it's been taken over by Entertainment Weekly. And to top it all of, there, crowding the top of my browser, is the AOL task bar that I had chosen NOT to install.

It's like the antichrist has invaded my computer.

With a little work I got AIM to close, and I removed the task bar. But I turned off the computer, rebooted, reopened firefox, and once again, the AIM Dashboard (read: AOL homepage) popped back up.

Seriously, this is why people grew to hate AOL in the first place - they don't respect the boundaries of their customers. No wonder they're going under. I just hope I can purge this computer of their insidious presence. Anybody know of a liturgy for computer exorcisms out there I can use?

A new endeavor in my life

Last summer I met a cello player. We had gathered with some mutual friends for a Creative Music Night. Everybody brought a song to sing or play or share, simply to experience the joy of communal music-making. While there was a lot of good music shared, it turned out that Grant, the cello player, and I were the two classically-trained musicians in the group. Which gave us some sort of connection.

Grant told me he played in a local orchestra, and that they were looking for more brass players, and he encouraged me to audition. Which got me thinking about 'way back when,' when I was involved in a few orchestras and brass ensembles. And got me thinking how much I missed those days.

Now I run into Grant almost every Tuesday when he brings his kids to a dance class here at the church. And he's been bugging me to join the orchestra. So shortly before the eye surgery, I began to practice a lot more regularly. Then, the week after surgery, I began to practice again, trying to get my chops back in shape. The first few days were hairy, but it's all been coming back.

Last night I auditioned for the open trumpet position with the Gig Harbor Peninsula Symphony Orchestra.

The audition lasted all of 10 minutes. Play a major scale, a minor scale, an excerpt from a technical piece, an excerpt from a melodic piece, and some brief sightreading.

Then the director took me out into the hall.

"Welcome to the orchestra! Let me introduce you around!"

Not that I was overly nervous, but it had been awhile since I'd auditioned for anything, and it's been over a decade since I've done any serious orchestral playing. So I wasn't exactly certain I'd make it.

But I am now the official 2nd-chair trumpet player of the Gig Harbor Peninsula Symphony Orchestra.

Following the audition I sat through my first rehearsal with the group. It was exciting, fun, a little weird to be back in the saddle after so many years off. But after about 10 minutes, it simply felt natural again. And the people were friendly and welcoming. It was a blessing to look across the room and see Grant over there, just so it didn't feel like a room full of strangers. But I had four or five go out of their way to say "hi" and welcome me in. So I'm looking forward to becoming a regular part of the group.

Our next concert is Friday, December 12, if anybody's interested. We're doing the Haydn 101 (the Clock), Three German Dances by Mozart, and a couple other pieces. Come if you like music, or come if you like me. Either way, should be a good time.

Time for Christmas Music

Christmas is a big deal to me. Probably my favorite time of year. And Christmas music is a big part of that. Every year I buy a Christmas album or two, and quite often those albums go a long way in defining that particular Christmas.

Sometimes I'm disappointed. I've purchased my share of Christmas albums that haven't made it into my extended playlist. Picked up some that just didn't cut it. There are those that, try as I might, I just couldn't bring myself to like. Carolyn Arends' Christmas: An Irrational Season comes to mind (made all the more disappointing because I love the album title so much). As does Kathy Mattea's Joy for Christmas Day. Last year's great disappointment was Selah's Rose of Bethlehem, although to their credit, I think I kept three songs from this CD in my music collection before donating it to the church library.

But more often than not, I've found myself delighted, especially at the unexpected finds. Last year's gems were Michael W. Smith's It's a Wonderful Christmas, and Mindy Smith's My Holiday. Over the last couple years I've also picked up Diana Krall's Christmas Songs, John Doan's Wrapped in White, and the John Rutter Christmas Album. And a lot more. But we'll probably get to that later, with some kind of top-ten list in another week or two.

The point here is that I found this year's Christmas album last week. I hadn't even gone shopping for it; I just happened to be in Borders, and it just happened to catch my eye. I actually bought it more for Karina than me, since she's a fan, but I've already grown to love it.

It's Songs for Christmas, by Sufjan Stevens.


Songs for Christmas is a veritable wonderland of Christmas music. Not just one CD, but five make up this box set of Sufjan's take on Christmas. Plus a lot of bonus materials: a singalong book complete with chord charts, a poster of Sufjan, a few Christmas stories and even a Christmas cartoon are all included. It's like getting a box from grandma with a whole bunch of presents inside. You certainly feel you got your money's worth.

As to the music itself: The set is the culmination of five years' worth of recordings. Every year from 2001 to 2006 Sufjan recorded a Christmas EP for his family and friends. This set pulls those five recordings together into one package, made available for the general public.

If you know Sufjan's work, then you generally know what to expect from this collection. Deep, rich, complex music set against fun, explosive, chaotic renderings. Some people might simply chalk it all up as "random," and they'd be right. Except that Sufjan has a solid core that guides and forms all he does, giving the music a soul and a center, even if it feels like it's been thrown into a blender and pureed for five minutes.

You get the classics here: "Silent Night," "Lo! How a Rose E'er Blooming," "I Saw Three Ships," "O Holy Night," and "Joy to the World." You also get some non-Christmas tunes, such as "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing" and "Holy, Holy, Holy," - both of them sensitive, fresh, yet powerful arrangements. But then you also get some soon-to-be classics as only Sufjan could deliver, such as "That Was the Worst Christmas Ever," "Come on! Let's Boogey to the Elf Dance!" and "Did I Make You Cry on Christmas Day? (Well, You Deserved it!)."

Backing up those songs is an eclectic mix of instrumentation, including plentiful banjo and glockenspiel. He gets his electronic mix in there, but allows the "real" instruments to carry most of the weight. As to the vocals - this is everything that afor-mentioned Selah album wasn't. It's simple, it's out-of-tune, it's prone to come in too early or hold on too long. In other words, it's not studio singers perfected by electronics; instead it's a bunch of friends sitting in a living room having a sing-along, inviting the rest of us in. At times it sounds like a frat party that's carried on just a tad too long, and now the egg-nog filled guys are stumbling out into the snow to carol the sorority sisters next door. And that's a good thing. It's fun, it's human, it's got a soul to it so much lacking in the rest of the studio-driven CDs sitting on the store shelves.

And yet. . .and this is the key to a Christmas album for me. It's the album I'd love to have playing in the background on Christmas Eve, once the candlelight service is over and the kids are in bed, and Karina and I are sharing a cup while sitting on the couch dreaming of snowfall outside. It's restful, it's soul-ful, it carries you away to simple places and glorious times, reminding you that, since the Light has come into the world, we can smile and rejoice and make merry and be glad. Maybe that's it; ultimately, it's a very happy album. It's a hopeful album. It's a good album.

One caveat: If you really, really loved that afor-mentioned Selah album, you probably wouldn't appreciate the subtlety of Sufjan. I get that. He's certainly not for everybody. I know a lot of people who would scratch their heads at this album. I understand that. It will probably never sell as many copies as, say, Mariah Carey's Christmas Album (which I wouldn't listen to, even if you paid me. . .). I accept that. (Of course, if you think Mariah Carey's Christmas album is actually good Christmas music, then we have nothing further to discuss)

I'm just saying that I really like Songs for Christmas. And that it's going to help define Christmas 2008 for us, and probably years beyond. So go support your independent musicians, take a risk, leave behind music the studios want you to buy, and add some truly great music to your collection. That would be a good thing.

And now, over to the sports desk

This has got to be the most depressing sports' year in the history of Seattle.

By my count, since August 30, when both UW and WSU kicked off the college football season, there have been 12 weekends' worth of football played involving the Huskies, the Cougars, and the Seahawks. As of today, 10 of those weekends have ended with nary a win between the three teams. One weekend the Hawks and Cougars both won; another the Hawks pulled off a win. Other than that, 10 weekends where Washington's finest took the field and all left in defeat.

For most of those September weekends, the Mariners were also finishing the most odious season possible. And, as has been well documented, the NBA kicked off the 08-09 season last month, with Seattle's team playing down in OKC.

I'm glad I don't live and breathe sports; this would be a tough year to take.

At least everybody is picking the Husky men's basketball team to do well this year. . .oh, wait. They got creamed by Portland last night. Never mind.

New Bibles

I own a lot of Bibles. A couple dozen, probably. Some I've purchased over the years, but most have been given to me - Bibles my parents gave me, my Ordination Bible, the Bible I was given when I was installed as pastor at Lakebay Community Church.

Two particular bibles have caught my attention lately. I was at Borders yesterday and picked up a copy of The Voice: New Testament, a brand-new translation by the Ecclesia Bible Society. I've only had a few spare moments between then and now to poke around inside, but so far I like what I'm finding.



As to the translation, those behind this interpretation have made a conscious effort to present the Bible as story, in a way that will connect with a world steeped in narrative . In other words, the concern of the translators was the tendency of most Bible translations to come across rather academically, and thus sometimes rather stilted, losing the broad sweep of action and dialogue that is supposed to carry the reader along. In order to achieve a different telling, the publishers used not only academics and people with "Dr." in front of their name, but also poets and story-tellers and musicians and artists and pastors. While maintaining fidelity to the original texts (as much as we have them), they sought to translate in ways that sing and resonate in the ears of 21st-Century people. In essence, their hope is to reclaim books that were written as stories, shared around campfires and along dusty roads, stories that lay deep within the hearts of God's people, but that have all-too-often become the battlegrounds of textual critics and classical academics.

Much thought went into the layout. One of the changes The Voice brings is to present the text in screenplay format. Thus, instead of "And then Jesus said. . .and then Mary said. . .and then they all said. . ." you get:

Jesus: Go get some food.
Disciples: Where are we going to get food?
Jesus: Why don't you try that Burger King over there.

(note: I just made that part up to give you an example. Nowhere in The Voice does Jesus talk about Burger King)

Also, within the text, the translators have included points of clarification to help the reader track the story. This is both an interesting addition and a minor irritation.

For instance, in Matthew 8, the story of the healing of the demon-possessed men, you read this:

"A way off - though still visible, not to mention odoriferous - was a large herd of pigs, eating.
Demons: If You cast us out of the bodies of these two men, do send us into that herd of pigs!
Jesus: Very well then, go!
And the demons flew out of the bodies of the two flailing men, they set upon the pigs, and every last pig rushed over a steep bank into the sea and drowned. The pig herders (totally undone, as you can imagine) took off. . ."

You can see how they do it - the normal text is a fairly faithful translation of the Greek texts, while the italicized portion are NOT part of the original text, but added to help make better sense of the story. One can see the danger - when you put the added part right in line with the text, it's easy to confuse what is the inspired Word of God and what is human interpolation. At the same time. . .last Wednesday I taught the middle school girls' Bible Study (Karina usually does, but she was in Mexico at the moment), and a couple of those girls have never cracked a Bible before this fall. Have never been in church before. Missed out on my Confirmation Class. And thus were generally interested but clueless about all that was going on. And I can see where this Bible would be the perfect Bible for them, helping them see and understand the bigger picture, and what's underlying the action. Much of what the above text does reflects exactly what I did in that Bible study - explain the history, the thoughts and feelings, helping them to visualize the action, the sights and sounds and smells of the story as it went along. So I'm not overly troubled by what the translators have chosen to do here. As to the irritation: sometimes when I'm teaching I enjoy the more nebulous nature of the original text, as that gives the class room for discussion. "What's going on here? Why do you think Jesus said that? What do you suppose they looked like?" Those are all good ways to further dialogue in the classroom, filling in the blanks. When translators fill in those blanks, as the NLT also does fairly often, it can dampen discussion. After all, the answers are all right there in the text now. Nothing left to toy with, to discern, to debate or wonder about. Thus, as with the NLT, sometimes what makes for good public or private reading doesn't always do as well as a basis for teaching.

In addition to the in-line added commentary, The Voice includes more extensive thoughts as the text goes along, still in-line with the text but bracketed off in boxes. More often than not (insofar as I've seen, anyway), these tend to be summary-type statements, or devotional, personal statements. For instance, following the above story of demons and pigs is the following 'thought in a box': "Some people recognized that Jesus was powerful, but they wanted nothing to do with His kind of power. As in this case, it cost them dearly."

In the end, I think this Bible may be the answer to all those people who say to me "I've never read a Bible, and I don't know where to start." Just looking at how the page is laid out: two simple columns, easy-to-read font, script-style dialogue, basic "helps" along the way - it invites the reader in. Also, like most novels, it doesn't contain pictures and charts and diagrams and timelines and all those extras you find in so many other Bibles. Just the text, with basic book introductions. Even the chapter and verse numbers are minimalized so as to not interrupt the flow. It seems to me to be a lot less overwhelming than your typical Bible. Finally, the copy I picked up, with woven cloth and leather cover, still carries a dignity about it, still seems to offer respect to the text within, which is not the case with so many Bibles printed today (see Kid's bibles, Youth Bibles, Teen Bibles, Postmodern Cynical Bibles. . .).

I am looking forward to spending more time with this Bible in the days to come. If you're interested in it, you can check out more at their website (see above). You can even download a copy of the Gospel of John for free, just to get a feel for how it reads.
_____

Last May I ordered a copy of The Books of The Bible, which is not a new translation but a new arrangement of the Bible. Published by the International Bible Society, The Books of the Bible is a specialty version of the popular TNIV, the translation I use in my own personal study and preaching.

Two things stand out about TBOTB, and both relate to the overall layout of the text. First, the publishers chose to order the books in ways that make more logical sense, or that stand truer to their original intent. Many people don't understand the rather haphazard way in which the order of books within the Bible was created; nor do we see how the disordered manner of book listings interrupts the overall flow of the Bible.

For instance, Luke and Acts were really intended to be Vol. 1 and Vol. 2 of the Christian story, compiled by Luke. Vol. 1 tells the story of Jesus, Vol. 2 tells the story of the early church. But both were written by the same author and meant to flow together. However, early on the church shoved John in between Luke and Acts, since Luke structurally parrallels Matthew and Mark while John is just so, well, John-like. But when John broke up Luke and Acts, the reader lost the drama of reading Luke's epochal story beginning with the earliest inkling of the Messiah and ending with the Church spreading to Rome and beyond.

Thus, the publishers tried with TBOTB to restore a semblence of historical order and original intent, meaning the books of this Bible aren't necessarily in the same order as the books in your Bible. Luke and Acts are put back together, and followed by all the Pauline epistles. Matthew, being the most Jewish of the gospels, is placed right before Hebrews and James. Mark was a disciple of Peter, and much of the gospel of Mark probably came from the memories of Peter, so the gospel of Mark is placed just before 1 and 2 Peter. John is placed right before 1, 2, and 3 John. And so it goes.

In addition, in attempting to read as closely as possible to the originals, chapter and verse numbers have been eliminated from the text itself, and placed along the bottom of the pages. Yes, that makes it difficult when the pastor says "Turn to Joshua 4:5," it makes it difficult when you're attempting to look up a specific verse. I get that. But it also allows the reader to see the Bible as it was, whole sections and thoughts, a long developing train leading toward monumental conclusions, rather than a series of disconnected verses divided by random chapter and verse numbers.

TBOTB does even less with commentary and "helps" than The Voice. In fact, there is no commentary in TBOTB, save for a few short book introductions. And all footnotes have been changed to endnotes, so as not to clutter each page. In fact, rather than columns, each page is a gingle column of text, laid out in paragraphs, with poetry inset slightly from the margin to call attention to its form. It is one of the simplest layouts I've seen - simply the naked text on the page.

As to its uses, I find it primarily helpful in devotional reading, when I'm not so concerned about chapter and verse, wanting instead to be lost in the continual waves of the text. It's a little like floating in the ocean vs. a small pool, as the boundaries have been removed and it's a little less obvious where things start and where they stop. Which is a lot like real life, when you stop to think about it. I've also found that it can be helpful even in sermon prep, and Bible Study background work; again, in that you're allowed to see the long, logical development, or the extended songs of praise, you're much more aware of the broader context when all that context isn't bracketed off by chapter and verse numbers, and when that context isn't lost in the chorus of footnotes and Helps and graphs and charts. Thus the true voice of the Word stands out alone, instead of in chorus with all those other things we've added in over the years.

One little confession: I gave TBOTB to all our confirmation students this year as their Confirmation Bibles. The truth is, most have pretty decent study Bibles already. And I wanted something that might stick with them over the years, not a Teen Bible they'd put away in four more years. They might end up being just a little confused by this Bible. At the same time, I have the feeling it's one they'll come back to in later years, once they've grown up a bit and want to come back and take another look at this Book, this Holy Word. I told them I didn't really expect to see them using this Bible in church, mostly because it's tough to follow along when I say "here in chapter 6 verse 3." But for their personal time, their devotional time, when they're sitting around looking for something to read. . .just maybe they'll pick this one up, and see in it the Bible as it's supposed to be. God's Word, unencumbered by all that extra weight.

A Tale of Two Sons

Yesterday we received word that the son of a woman in our church, 35-years-old with four young boys of his own, a man we've been praying for regularly, is dying. By the end of the day, the word was that he was in his last day of life.

Yesterday I visited another young couple, part of our church, and held their baby in my arms, little Asher, born the day before.

And so we welcome one son in, rejoicing, and we let one son go, grieving. Our thoughts and prayers are with both families, holding both close to our hearts, holding both up before our gracious Father in Heaven, as one family begins a lifetime of meeting their son, watching him grow and flourish and become the man he's destined to be, as another family mourns a son, a father, a husband, a friend. Grace be to you both; may God's gentleness rest in your souls.

And remember - your Family loves you and cares deeply for you. We're here whenever you need us.

Couple Random Things

In the next month, buses will be rolling through the Washington D.C. area emblazoned with ads stating "Why Believe in a God? Be Good for Goodness' Sake." It's a takeoff from a similar campaign running in London this holiday season.

article here

A couple thoughts:
1. Certainly one more sign of the times. As we become even more of a pluralistic society, Christianity is becoming simply one more voice among the many.
2. Many Christians will choose to be offended by this ad campaign (or so I'm guessing). Perhaps, instead, this may become an excellent conversation starter. After all, they ask "Why Believe in a God?" And we've already been given the challenge: "Always be ready to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have" (1 Peter 3:15). So if they ask, let's give them an answer. (not forgetting that Peter said to carry out the above "with gentleness and respect".)

_____

Closer to home, next year a law goes into effect in Seattle and King County, requiring restaurants to hand out and display nutritional information for all the food they serve, in order to assist people in making more informed dining choices.

The P-I ran an article on this new law this morning, along with some pertinent nutritional facts from our local eateries.

If you want to remain in denial about those frappuccinos and chili burgers you're ingesting, don't go check it out. But if you're wondering why you just can't lose those last 15 pounds, maybe it's because that macaroni-n-cheese has 2430 calories and 128 grams of fat.

Movie Review: Madagascar 2

I took Olivia and her friend Reagan to see Madagascar 2 yesterday. It was a rainy day, the kids were all out of school for Veteran's Day, so what better to do than go to the movies? Apparently everybody else agreed, because the place was packed. But that was a good thing; it added to the energy of the whole event, having all these excited young kids who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.

As to the movie: It's been a while since I've seen a CG-driven movie on the big screen, and I was constantly impressed by the imagery. From the opening sequence overlooking an African savanna, through plane-crash sequences and zebra dance routines, the scenery was stunning and surprisingly realistic.

In addition, the movie did well at balancing the kid/adult spectrum. The plot was quick and funny enough that the youngest children seemed to stay involved throughout, but there was enough subtlety and innuendo to keep adults interested until the end. The storyline was simple enough for all to follow, yet filled with insider jokes such as Survivor ripoffs and a not-so-subtle dig at airplane manufacturing union strikes.

In the end, it was the characters that really drove the movie. Besides the four central characters, you had the hubris-driven penguins, the brawny-but-brainless Moto Moto, the granny from New York who would take no guff, and a host of others who made short but important appearances.

There was a moment in the middle of the movie where it seemed to muddle down a bit; it was difficult to keep about five different plot lines all progressing at the same time. Also, whether intended or not, the central plot seemed awfully close to Lion King - the Alpha Lion being challenged by a devious usurper, the son choosing fun and play over true grit and character, the son needing to redeem himself and take back the throne that is rightfully his. Which meant it was hard not to compare the two movies as this one progressed, thus taking some attention away from the actual movie showing in front of us. But then again, the target audience of Madagascar 2 probably wasn't born when Lion King came out, so maybe it's not an issue. Finally, this critique: one or two jokes about large animal posteriors might be funny. But how many do you actually need in one movie? It got a little old after awhile. Although the kids laughed every time, so what do I really know?

In the end, I'd give it 4 out of 5 stars. I laughed more at this one than I have over any movie in quite some time. The effects are powerful, the plot interesting, the characters lovable; it all comes together in a very enjoyable movie, for kids and adults alike.

______

More old friends

Last weekend, our friend/former youth group member Ken came over for some free food and family fun. He's now in the army, based over at Ft. Lewis, so it wasn't much trouble to make the jaunt over for a night and 2 partial days. Although I made the mistake of playing some video games with him. And didn't win one. Don't play shooter games with guys in the army, I guess.

Today our former youth group member/friend Betsy flew up from California; the plan is to do the Seattle Tour tomorrow, seeing if we can connect with other former youth group members/friends Jake, Anya, and Leah along the way. It's supposed to rain all day, but I guess that's part of the Seattle experience. Anyway, it's always nice to reconnect with people who were part of your history and carry on with those friendships. Plus we're making Chex Mix to celebrate, so woohoo! It's all good.

On the Other Side

I spend a fair amount of time visiting with people. And, as a pastor, I've done my share of hospital visitations. I've been with young parents shortly after they delivered their babies, I've sat with men and women who have come out of surgery, I've prayed at the bedside of people who just received devastating medical news. I've often walked into hospitals as a "man on a mission," the pastor on his way to sit and pray with his parishioners who are experiencing medical trauma of one sort or another.

Which is why the whole surgery experience was just plain odd. For the first time, I was the guy in the bed, the guy being wheeled down the hallway, the guy getting poked and prodded and stuck with needles and asked a hundred questions ("Is anybody abusing you?"). I kept thinking "wait - I'm supposed to be on the other side of this bed, the guy in control of the situation, the guy doing the ministering, not the helpless one having everything done to him."

Even as I was being wheeled down the hallway into the surgical suite, it became almost surreal, like "this isn't how this is supposed to work." And a couple days later, when Doug came by the house on a pastoral visitation call, in which he was the pastor and I was the "recovering guy," it was just too weird.

Sunday was the same. I attended church on Sunday. That's all I did. Other people called the people to worship, other people prayed, other people made the announcements, somebody else preached. I didn't do anything accept sit and stand and sit and stand (and start to fidget when the tylenol began to wear off. . .). Again, it was all backward. I was "the guy in the pew" rather than the one leading it all. It was pretty surreal (of course, that may have been the drugs, too).

Which, in the end, was probably all a good thing. To have to give up control, to put myself at the mercy of so many others, to experience the helplessness and lack of power. . .those are not things I'm so good at. It feels good to sweep into the hospital, knowing I'm doing what's expected and I'm fulfilling a calling and playing an important role. But we know that the call of the Christian is a call to relinquish control, to give up power and prestige. I don't know how often I get the chance to be completely dependent upon everybody else. So it's probably a good experience to be "on the other side." I would hope it all makes me that much more sensitive and empathetic to those I visit from here on out, as I've now truly been one of them. I've lain in that bed and felt helpless. I've sat in the pew and had to trust others to lead me through worship.

The other thing I've figured out is this: it's okay to be vulnerable in front of the congregation. In fact, I think there are times when the church needs the opportunity to turn things around, to show their love and appreciation and care toward their pastor. They don't need Superman, they need somebody who is human, who has hopes and dreams and fears and hurts, just like they do.

I'm reminded of a conversation I had way back in the first church I served. It was late in the evening, following a youth group meeting, and three girls in the group were sharing their frustration with me. And the core of it was this: "Dan, we tell you all about our problems, all about the things that bother us, we tell you everything in our lives, and you never tell us anything about what's going on in your life!" They were actually mad at me because I was holding some emotional distance from them. I was the leader, the youth pastor, and I thought I needed to show strength, to be impervious, to stand strong in the face of life. What they told me that day was that they needed me to be human. They wanted to share in my life as people, not as pastor-parishioner. They wanted true human relationship, not a static leader/student relationship.

And I'm still learning that lesson. I'm still learning that not only is it okay, it's truly necessary to let this relationship be reciprocal. As I minister to the people of this church, they need to minister back to me. As I love these people, I need to let them love me as well. And sometimes that means getting into the hospital bed and becoming the patient, of sitting down and letting them lead. Of letting them become Minister to me, in every meaning of that word.

So maybe my little jaunt to the other side made me just a little more human once again. At least when I say "I feel your pain," I really mean it, because my eye really hurts right now. Anybody want to bring me some tylenol?

Options for Tuesday

1. Breathlessly track the news throughout the day, noting every prognosticated jump in "projected numbers," becoming more and more agitated as the day goes on

or

2. Find a good book, get some reading done, maybe finish a project or two, check the news before going to bed. Realize it probably won't be over for a few more weeks anyway and have a good night's sleep.

I think I'll take #2. With a checkup with the eye surgeon in there, just to break up the day.

Without the patch

Today

I've been without the eye patch most of the day. And I'm taking tylenol, rather than the hard stuff the doctor gave me. Mostly, it hasn't been too bad. A little dizziness, a little pain and pressure, but progress over the last few days. I tested out the "new eye," and could read a little with it, although it seems a little foggy. Still, they told me it would "get a little better each day," and that seems to be the case.

Just don't ask to look at the eye. I took one glance, and it's a pussy mess. Not pretty.

How the day goes

First order of business: Get out of bed.
Second order of business: Get food in stomach.
Third order of business: Take pain medication.
Fourth order of business: Clean off wound.
Fifth order of business: Apply eye drops.
Sixth order of business: Blog about it all.
Seventh order of business: Go back to bed.

I did get in a couple of movies yesterday - Iron Man (note: sfx-laden movies don't work so well when you can only see out of one eye) and Grace is Gone, a Jon Cusack movie about a father attempting to tell his two daughters that their mother was killed in Iraq. It was a tender, understated yet powerful movie. I had tears in my eyes. . .but then again, that may have just been because I have stitches in my eye, too.

As a quick follow-up, I go back to see Dr. Rotkis next Tuesday, and he'll let us know if everything is still healing up nicely.

arrr!

The story

In case you have a lot of extra time on your hands. . .

It begins in about 1998, when I went to see a new eye doctor. This was my first visit since moving from California to Oregon. Somewhere near the end of the visit, the doctor said, "hmm." He mentioned he saw a little astigmatism in my eye. "We'll have to keep watch on that and see if something's happening."

January of 2000, I noticed my vision blurring. So back to the eye doctor in Gresham. They assigned me a new doctor in their clinic, a young woman who split her time between this clinic and teaching at the optometry school in Forest Grove.

"Hmm," she said, and left the room. When she came back, she told me she had bad news. "You've developed karatoconus in your left eye." And thus we entered into a new world of eye treatment.

However. . .

My new pair of hard lenses came, but the left one didn't fit well. Which is somewhat expected. But then the next didn't fit, and neither did the next. "Hmm," she said. She was somewhat frustrated. One day I was in, and she told me there was a contact specialist in the other room. She wanted him to try and fit me.

He was a little, well, arrogant shall we say? A little patronizing toward the eye doctor. He all but said "I'm going to teach this young woman a thing or two." But after about 15 different attempts, it still wouldn't fit. So he made it my fault. "You rub your eyes a lot, don't you? You're blinking wrong. You squint too much."

Having no luck, they sent me to have a corneal scan done in downtown Portland. I went to the office, sat in the chair, and listened to them explain karatoconus. "In fact," the specialist said, "I'll show you on your scan here, just as soon as it prints. See, the coloring here. . .hmm. That's not normal for karatoconus."

So back I went to my doctor, who promised to keep working with me.

Three weeks later, she called my office. She sounded quiter exuberant. "I've got it!" she said. "I talked to my prof at the school, and he knew exactly what it is! It's called Peluccid Marginal Degeneration, and it's really rare, but we can make a lens to fit it."

[from the experts: Pellucid marginal degeneration (PMD) - is a rare condition whereby the lower cornea becomes thinner and the optic surface of the cornea becomes irregular and the vision becomes blurry. The resulting shape of the cornea is similar to a pregnant belly whereby the lower portion of the cornea protruding forward. PMD is often misdiagnosed as Keratoconus, although similar, the resulting cornea shape can be quite different. PMD often has cornea sizes similar to that of a regular eye but a very steep curve in the bottom of the cornea.]

So I got the new lens, it fit well, and life carried on.

Three months later I moved to Turlock. There were no eye doctors in Turlock, or anywhere nearby, who even knew what PMD was. So for six years, I lived with that lens. Which was often a pain in the dry, dusty air of the San Joaqin Valley. But at least I could see.

In 2000 we move to Lakebay. About that time I noticed the lens wasn't fitting well again. So Karina called around and found the local experts in corneal issues. I made an appointment, and went in and saw Ralph Archer.

He looked at my eye through the eye-looking machine. "Hmm," he said. "A problem?" I asked. "That lens fits like %#$#$"

Which is what began this second phase of eye treatment. It took about 8 trips into Seattle and about 6 different lenses to find the one that finally fit. All along he told me he was confident we could treat it with a lens. But he also kept saying I was one of the worst cases he'd ever seen. "If a typical ophthalmologist saw one or two like this in their lifetime, they'd be lucky." PMD is rare enough, but mine seems to extend even more deeply than most. As my mom always said, I'm "special."

So for a year or so, I lived with this massive lens in my left eye. It popped out all the time. It scratched my eye. In the words of the docter, it "beat up" my eye pretty heavily.

When it broke last spring, I made another visit to fit a replacement. "Hmm" said Ralph. "Are you interested in a graft?"

And after talking at length with Ralph, after consulting with Dr. Rotkis, after talking with others who have had corneal transplants, we made the decision to go ahead and have it done.

Tomorrow, around 3:30, the scalpal will cut and I'll enter phase 3 of this journey. Which, hopefully, will end up being the easiest phase. If all goes well, the cornea will be shaped relatively normally. No more PMD, just typical blurred vision, correctable by normal contacts or glasses. No more hunk of plastic in my eye, no more inability to look to the right, no more beating up of the eye.

I'm ready. It's time to get this done. I'm looking forward to not being "special" any more. Normal is just fine with me.

Old friends

Way, way back in time, there was a group of 6 or 7 of us who grew up in church together. Our dads all served on the elder board, our moms all taught Sunday School. When we were kids we ran around in the parking lot after church; when we got older we became the youth group; as teens we went backpacking together and had New Year's Parties together and tortured our Sunday School teachers together. But then, as happens, we all went off to college and lost touch with each other.

Tomorrow I'm going on a picnic with one of those old friends, one I haven't seen in, what, 15 years? And now she's married and has kids, I'm married and have kids, so our kids can play together while all us adults do adult things like talking. Her husband's a pastor, and I'm a pastor, so we can talk about pastor-stuff. And the weather is supposed to be nice, so we're all looking forward to a blessed Fall afternoon of fun and talking about old times.

Last Wednesday evening, I had a phone conversation with my old roommate, who I lived with in Southern California 12 years ago. We hadn't talked in probably 6 years, haven't seen each other since 1997, so it was good to catch up and hear about life's twists and journeys.

When I left California, it was to move into a new ministry position in Oregon. Because I'd been forced out of my previous one. By a pastor who I'd fit into the category of "not very nice people." Some of you know the story: he was a habitual liar, a control freak, he plagiarized sermons, he was more interested in comfort and glory and protecting his position than in serving and shepherding and "being an example to God's flock." This man hurt a lot of people (including me) pretty badly.

So in the course of the conversation, my ex-roommate mentioned that this particular pastor had died a few years ago. And his wife had died a year or so before that.

And the truth is. . .I felt nothing but sadness. For which I praise God today. Because I know my thoughts toward this man were not exactly holy and righteous in the months and years following my ignominious firing. But God has been good to us, teaching me about forgiveness, helping me find good counsel, and, ultimately, teaching me to be grateful for all I have today. The fact is, I'm in a wonderful church, have an amazing wife and family; I love my life today. I have no regrets. I've learned the truth of Genesis 50:20 - "What you meant for evil, God meant for good." And so I can honestly say I take no pleasure in hearing of this man's death.

Only sadness remains. Sadness for a ministry he destroyed, sadness for the kids in our youth ministry who abandoned the church because of his actions, and sadness that, so far as I know, he never took the chance to seek redemption and reconciliation with those he had hurt. He was a smart man, had a good sense of humor, understood theology. . .he would have made a great pastor. And I'm sad he ended up living a different life than the one he was called to. I'm sad for the waste.

I suppose part of me always hoped we'd have a chance to reconcile someday; it would have been nice to redeem, in some small way, the damage he caused in my life. There was always that small part of me that wished for the day he would call and say "I realize now what I've done." Not for my own vindication, but for the good of the Kingdom of God and the victory of Christ over sin. Now that's all in God's hands, as it always has been anyway. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

Giving Thanks to Someone I'll Never Know

It's an odd thought; I suppose any who have transplants must confront it at one point or another. Sometime today or tomorrow, someone in the vicinity of Seattle is going to die. After which their body will be harvested for organs and such, and their family will enter into a time of mourning. And on Monday, one of that person's corneas is going to be sewed onto my left eye, hopefully repairing the disorder with which I've been struggling for a decade. And I will go into the rest of my life "wearing" that person's cornea, facing less pain and struggle to read, to watch the sunset, to read music, to play with my kids.

Whoever that person is, whoever their family is, I pray God's blessing upon them, and grace in their grief. I don't envy their sorrow, but I am very grateful for their gift to me. May God have mercy upon them as they slip from this life; may God give comfort to those who mourn them.

And then there are the times you're blessed enough to go out

I actually did get out yesterday to visit a lady in our church who's in the midst of chemotherapy. She lives in a house on the water, on the east side of the Key Peninsula. We sat out on her deck, in the warm sunshine, under clear blue skies. To the east lay the open waters of Puget Sound, broken by the fir-covered mounds of Anderson and McNeil Islands, between which in the distance you could see the town of Steilacoom on the mainland, over which rose Mt. Rainier, shining in a crystaline snow-covered blanket of white. The conversation was wonderful, the setting was stunning, the refreshments refreshing. . .

That's my life. Surrounded by beautiful scenery and wonderful people. Sometimes I wonder why I'm so blessed.

Sometimes Visitation Comes to You

Yesterday I got into the office and did about an hour's worth of work, before I walked out and bumped into a new friend. He and I had a long, deep talk about spirituality and community and seeking our way in life. After he left I had a chat with a woman about a mutual friend who is deeply hurting at the moment. Then our mission chair asked to meet with me about something, so we talked for 30 minutes or so. After she left I walked over to the front office, and saw one of our older ladies sitting there, waiting for Bible Study to start, so I chatted with her for 15 minutes or so. Then another woman from the church walked in - one I'd been hoping to talk with for a little while, so she came into my office and we talked about life and leadership for 3o minutes. In between all that I received a phone call from a woman who is deeply struggling with financial and marriage issues, and we talked through some options together. In the midst of all that another woman from the church came in with some concerns about some possible "inappropriate political advertising" taking place on church property. And then, just about the time I was heading home for lunch, in walked our janitor, who had been in the hospital over the weekend, so he and I spent some time catching up on all that was going on in his life.

I had one thing to accomplish yesterday: sending out the email newsletter. Short, simple task, right? I began it at 10:00, and didn't get it our for 5 or 6 more hours, simply because the day was spent visiting with people. Some people would like to see me get out of the office to do more visitation; lately I'm finding I can't get out of the office because all the visitation is coming to me.

And so goes the life of a community pastor.

Liturgy for Troubled Times

These were used in last Sunday's worship celebration at Lakebay Community Church:

Call to Worship
Leader: Whenever we gather together, we come to praise our God.
All: We praise our God, the one who reigns over all!
In times of joy and gladness,
We praise our God, who is good and kind!
In times of doubt and fear,
We praise our God, who is faithful and sure!
When bad news assails us, and dread stalks our homes,
We praise God, who protects and delivers us!
Whatever our lot, God has taught us to say,
"Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord!" Amen.

Affirmation of Faith (from Habakkuk 3)
As God has been good to us, he is good to us still.
Though the stock market crash and cost of living rise,
though the paycheck is small and the bills grow large,
though enemy advance and foe prevail,
though trial and uncertainty remain;
'Yet I will rejoice in the Lord,
I will exult in the God of my salvation.'
For God, the Lord, is my strength;
he lifts me to the high places.

Hey Doc - can you help me kill myself?

I've had a few people ask what I think about I-1000, the "assisted suicide" initiative here in Washington. To those still undecided, here are two resources that you might find helpful:

The 1997 Covenant Church Resolution on Assisted Suicide

The 2005 Covenant Resolution on Consistently Protecting and Promoting Life

On economic disasters and political discussions: A Christian Approach

For whatever reason, I find myself one step removed from the daily onslaught of breathy newscasters prognosticating doom and gloom regarding the economy, and slashing lives and destroying souls as they "report" the latest news from the Election Trail.

It helps not having television. Whatever news I get I either hear on NPR over breakfast, or read in the few online news sites I frequent, or catch as I work out at the YMCA. But I'm spared the 5:00 news, which is repeated in the 5:30 news, and then rehashed in the 6:00 news, which is then spun over in the 6:30 news, and then repeated all over again in the 10:00 news. And I'm fortunate to not be swamped by the 24-hour-a-day, never-ending "It's the End of the World as We Know It" coverage on the cable news networks.

Perhaps because of that separation, because we get our news sparingly, I find myself more interested in the HOW question than the WHAT question. I'm truthfully not all that interested in what is being reported, so much as I'm fascinated (and troubled) by how the issues are being discussed, both at the "professional news" level and at the "common citizen" level. It is obvious by now that professional news organizations are anything but impartial - whether you are watching Fox or CNN or MSNBC, as much time is spent mocking Obama or Palin or McCain or Biden as is spent reporting what they actually say and do. Vitriolic diatribes fly back and forth, making fun of Palin's wink or blasting Obama's ex-pastor. And it's not just the candidates: let's show clips of rednecks carrying McCain/Palin signs; let's find clips of Christians praying for certain candidates; let's make caricatures of them lib'ruls and their money-wasting, anti-American ways.

I probably don't need to say anything more about that. You're smart enough to know what I mean.

The other issue, of course, is the economic disaster facing our world. And the tsunami-o-blame crashing around in its wake. It's the double-whammy, really. People are frightened, people are losing their jobs and their retirement funds. I had the "good wisdom" about a year ago to take a chunk of cash out of a low-interest savings account and invest it with the Covenant Trust Company. I'm sure the plan, which was to do better than that savings account, has actually backfired. I've been hit hard, too.

And so people are fearful, they are doubtful, they are wondering what tomorrow brings. They are tied into the news, rejoicing over every uptick on the Stock Market, despairing with each successive drop.

Between the two - the political scene and the economic scene, it seems that two emotions rule the day: anger and fear. The anger manifests itself every time a person says "I'm thinking about voting for. . ." Friends of mine have had threats leveled at them because of the political bumper stickers on their car. Internet message boards are filled with slander and venom toward those who support one candidate or the other. Anyone who disagrees with another is an "ignoramous" or a "neo-con" or a "fundamentalist" or a "socialist." I've been warned against discussing politics in the church, because we may end up causing anger and division. And, there's probably some truth to that.

The fear manifests itself in the endless stock reports, the sell-offs, the message boards and coffee shops where people sit around comparing our time to the Great Depression, where people stare into the opening chasm of financial chaos and see the end of their hopes and dreams, and wonder if they'll be left selling apples on the street corner. People who are beginning to stock up on cans of soup, people afraid to rent a DVD or go out to dinner, people who lie awake at night and feel the cold snake of anxiety slither into their room, constricting around their heart and smothering their soul. Fear that the world is sinking around us, that our ship is going under and we may just miss the lifeboats. Fear that the sun will not, in fact, come out tomorrow.

Fear and anger. Anger and fear. Perhaps the two most prevalent emotions of the day.

And as I sit back and watch all this, as I ponder the how of this conversation, I'm struck that the conversation within the church isn't much different.

I get the letters in the mail, I read the internet message boards, I notice the advertisements. There are a lot of angry Christians out there. Christians angry at the "liberals trying to ruin the country." Christians angry at the gays for trying to ruin the country. Christians angry at the fundamentalists for giving a bad name to Christianity. Christians declaring "no follower of Jesus could vote for Obama." And Christians saying "anybody who reads the words of Jesus HAS to vote for Obama."

And Christians who are afraid. Or at least silent in the face of doubt and uncertainty. Christians who are fearful of what tomorrow may bring.

Or, of course, those other Christians who are ecstatic -the ones who figure that all this means Jesus must be coming back in the next week or so, so "Praise the Lord for all the devastation! It just means prophecy is being fulfilled!"

In the end, it seems to me that these reactions - anger, fear, exaltation at the suffering of others - are the exact opposite of the emotions that ought to mark followers of Christ.

Instead, the people of God ought to shine in the world as examples of gentleness, peacefulness, and simple trust. Consider:

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

Peace I leave with you, my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need.

Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not think you are superior.

As a prisoner of the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle, be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.

Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other.

. . .I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous run to it and are safe.

So, then, this is the proper response for Christians in the midst of political turmoil and economic disaster: love, respect, gentleness, trust, prayer, peace.

Imagine if Christians engaged in political discussion in a way that was truly respectful of the opinions of others. If Christians could strongly disagree over candidates and issues, and yet treat each other with humility, considering each other better than themselves. Imagine if Christians utterly refused to allow political beliefs and opinions to divide them. Imagine if every time Christians had a political discussion we did so under a huge banner that said "Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace." And what if we actually lived it?

In other words, what if our common faith in Christ was more important, more precious to us than our opinions on earthly political matters?

And what if we chose to believe God's promises of provision? What if Christians truly were a people of hope and courage in the midst of recession? What if we joyously professed our belief that God will provide? And, just as important, what if those who still had money and possessions shared what they had with those who had lost jobs, those who had witnessed the disappearance of their savings?

What if the Body of Christ were enthused with hope, and practiced love and care for those who suffer?

Just what kind of impact would that make? How would it change the conversation?

So this is what I believe:
1. Those who follow Christ must be marked by the fruit of the Spirit - gentleness, kindness, love, peace foremost. We must not behave like news broadcasters, pundits, and so many bloggers, spitefully mocking those with whom we disagree. We must listen and respect all who come to the conversation.
2. No matter how bad things become, Christians must not lose their hope that God will make all things well. Thus, Christians can radiate joy and gladness even in the midst of pain and sorrow, for we know that, ultimately, we are in God's hands, and, in the words of the great song, "no power of hell, no scheme of man can ever pluck me from his hand."
3. In all things, the Body must stand strong together, meeting each other's needs, caring and providing for those who hurt and hunger, challenging those who are becoming divisive and unruly.

What I'm really saying is this: we are not of this world; thus, we ought not to behave like this world. May the mind of Christ dwell richly within us, so that it is his light that shines through us, bringing hope and civility to a world that has lost its way.

Good Tunes

One of the sites I frequent is folkalley.com. Live (free) streaming folk, bluegrass, and a little Americana/jazz thrown in there for good measure. Right now you can watch video clips of the original Kingston Trio and Pete Seeger, there are album reviews and concert listings. Lots of good music resources.

Mostly, though, I just let the music play as I go about my business.

Farm Fest 2008

Set List:
Roll in my Sweet Baby's Arms
Cindy (the Andy Griffith Version)
Dooley (The Dillards)
The Crawdad Song
Poor Boy's Delight (Infamous Stringdusters)
I'll Fly Away
I Can't Feel At Home in this World Anymore (Blue Highway Version)
When the Roll is Called Up Yonder
Keep On the Sunny Side
Tramps and Hawkers (Laurie Lewis and Tom Rosum)
Farther Along
Hard Times Come Again No More (Stephen Foster)
The Last Testament of Angus Shane (Lost Dogs)
The Last Train to Glory (Arlo Guthrie)
Angel Band
Froggy Went a-Courtin'
You Are My Sunshine
If There Hadn't Been You
When You Say Nothing at All
All I Want is You (U2)
A Long December (Counting Crows)
Goodnight Irene

The Blue Parakeet: One Reader's Review

I’ve spent a lot of time in a lot of different theological streams. Fundamentalists, Wesleyans, Calvinists, Emergent, Mennonites, Quakers, and more. I’ve studied with them, read their works, discussed theology with them all. And while most of that time was pleasant, and while some of those conversations were enjoyable, all too often they’ve devolved into arguments over the issues that separate those groups.

The thing is, swimming in so many different pools has allowed me to make an interesting observation: each group is convinced that their reading of the sacred text is the correct one, and that all others are mistaken. And so each group assumes that if they can simply out-argue the other group, their view will win out. Unless, of course, those on the other side are “hard-hearted” or “blinded by the flesh,” in which case they’ll never accept Truth. (Note: this brush I’m using obviously describes certain of those groups more than others. . .)

What I’m getting at is this: there are many groups who have read the Bible, taken specific theological positions from specific passages, and then read the Bible through that particular lens or filter. The verses that support their position get lots of attention. The verses that would undermine that position – well, let’s just say they either get ignored or explained away.

Sometimes, though, just when we think we’ve got it all figured out, along comes a verse or passage that shakes things up a bit. Just when a theological position is codified, along comes something to knock it loose. Scot McKnight calls those “Blue Parakeet” passages. And it is at that point that McKnight takes off in his newest book, called, appropriately, The Blue Parakeet.

The essence of McKnight’s thesis is that there are many ways to read the Bible, including lawbook, repository of pithy statements, and puzzle. Unfortunately, most of these all come back to the same basic idea: we read the Bible in order to get correct information out of it. McKnight challenges that notion with this idea: we read the Bible in order to get the plot of the story, and then we live out that same story in our lives today. Thus, rather than attempting to live as Moses commanded, rather than attempting to fit all of Paul’s words into 21^st Century American culture, we instead watch the plot unfolding from Creation, through the fall and Christ’s work of redemption, on into the ultimate recreation in the book of Revelation.

In other words, McKnight argues that our task is not to directly import the rules and statements of Moses and Paul into our day, but to see how God was working in the days of Moses, of Jesus, and of Paul, and allow this plot line to reveal to us how God is working in the world today. And then, most importantly, to live out this story in our world. To live lives of redemption, aware that God is still working today in ways unimaginable in biblical times, drawing us still away from the curse and into the Kingdom of God.

A couple brief thoughts:

- This book will make a lot of people nervous or angry, especially if they rank inerrancy and inspiration as the Highest Biblical Truths. Because McKnight pushes us to see beyond the words on the page to the God behind those words, some might accuse him of taking too low a view of scripture. I’m sure he’s aware of that, and is ready for the heresy police to come calling.

- McKnight uses the first half of the book to make his point, and then shifts in the second half to give us an example. For that example, he addresses the issue of women in ministry. I see and understand his logic. The teacher in him is coming out. First, give the theory, then the application. Again, his use of this issue is bound to make some people uncomfortable, especially the Southern Baptists out there. But I understand his method, and I concur with both his destination and how he got there.

- My only complaint with the book (and I realize this is probably just a personal thing): McKnight writes in a very conversational style, given to a lot of asides and personal interjections and cute acronyms. Perhaps this is due to the time he spends in college classrooms, attempting to reach today’s 20-year-olds with deep theological truth. To me, it all becomes so much distraction after awhile. Too cutesy. A dumbing-down of something that ought to make us think deep and hard. If I’m being forced to rethink how I read the Word of God, I want to be challenged with powerful examples and weighty logic, not fun stories and anecdotes. In other words, for a topic as important as this, I was surprised by the light and breezy tone taken by McKnight. Then again, I’m almost twice the age of most of his students, and I read professional theological tomes all the time, so perhaps I’m not exactly his target audience. You can read it and be the judge of that.

In the end, I find his primary argument, and his work on women in ministry, to be important for the Church today. I recommend the book for all who are seeking to figure out how the Bible speaks in the 21^st Century world. It’s a relatively easy read that will still cause you to think deeply about how you approach the Bible and how you apply it to your life. And being aware of how we read is probably almost as important as knowing what we read.

(Note: according to Scot McKnight's blog, The Blue Parakeet is available on Amazon as of today)

Sometimes, as a father, I shudder

Two articles I came across this morning that make me want to pack my bags and move to, idk, Wasilla Alaska, maybe?

First, a September article about the media's attempts to sexualize our girls, even when they are as young as four years old. I'm not sure which is more disturbing:
- the thought of little girls dressing up in vampy clothes and dancing for the delight of strangers
- the parents who actually find this sort of thing appropriate, or, even worse, "cute."
- the corporate entities who are taking our daughters' innocence all the way to the bank

Second, Andrew Jones' account of his daughter being given the HPV vaccine, in spite of the fact that he and his wife and his daughter ALL agreed it would be better if she opted out, and checked the "no" box on the consent form. Seems the dr. went ahead and did it anyway.

Again, a perfect example of "professionals" thinking they know better than you as a parent. And the unsettling suspicion that, behind it all, nefarious corporations are getting rich by turning peer pressure against those who would choose not to consume their product.

via
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It already began with us a few weeks ago, when we first heard "but daddy, ALL the other kids bring their ipods on the school bus. I'm the ONLY kid on the bus that doesn't have one." This from our innocent third grade daughter. And I've seen enough in all my years as a youth pastor to know it doesn't ever let up.

Bring me my cane, you whipper-snappers!

This fall, the wife is leading a Wednesday night Bible Study for Middle School girls. They have about nine girls taking part.

This morning I noticed a registration form for one of the girls in the group. It was lying on the counter, next to where I was grinding up my coffee beans in a vain attempt to kick-start some energy in this body. I was drawn to the birthdate.

This girl - this Middle School girl, this intelligent young lady who's coming and partaking in this Bible Study on the book of Acts, this girl on the cusp of growing into a young woman - was born in 1996.

1996!!!!!!!!!

Which means she has no memory at all of the 1990s. Of anything before, say 9/11? In fact, she was only 5 when that event happened.

And now she's in Middle School?

1996?????

She probably doesn't even remember when the Spice Girls were all the rage.

I feel so ancient, all of a sudden.

Call to Worship for Communion Sunday

Leader: We come this morning to worship our God, the King of kings and Lord of lords.

All: May his presence fill this temple, and his power fill our hearts.

May his peace guard your hearts and minds as you come before his throne.

May our words, our thoughts, our offerings and our deeds be pleasing in his sight.

May you know the power of his love, overwhelming your sorrow and doubt with hope and contentment.

May we feel his presence in our worship, in the Word, and as we gather at his table.

He is our God! He is a friend to the friendless, father of the orphan, shelter for the traveler and alien among us!

He is our God! His name is more powerful than presidents, kings, rulers and authorities! He is our hope, our friend, our redeemer. His love saves us and restores us. Come, Oh God, and invade this space! Come, be with us! Open the heavens and come down; reveal your love once again! Amen.

Concert Review: Amazingly. . .disappointing

It was set up to be an interesting evening. Chris Thile, the mandolin prodigy famous for his three solo albums and his three bluegrass albums with his band Nickel Creek. Edgar Meyer, one of the most proficient double bass players in the world today. They are both masters of their instruments, both well-versed in the standard core related to their instruments, yet both given to pushing the boundaries in search of new sounds and ideas.

I went to the show, held in Seattle's beautiful Benaroya Hall, as fans of Thile. We had never heard of Meyer, but read his bio with great interest as we settled in to enjoy what we assumed would be a night of bluegrass, ballads, and great music. Thile's "How to Grow a Woman from the Ground" is one of our favorite albums, one we probably listen to every week, and thus we assumed we knew what we were getting into.

Unfortunately, that assumption was wrong.

Don't misunderstand. Thile and Meyer were utterly amazing. Their technical proficiency, their sense of musical phrasing, their ability to improvise were all astounding. The interplay between the two instruments was breathtaking to behold. They ripped off lightning-fast riffs with each note played clearly and distinctly, they harmonized in complex, atonal ways, they danced around ideas and tunes, passing back and forth with electric runs and complex sustained chords. Just watching them work their instruments was an inspiration.

It was just that the entire night turned into a 2-plus hour demonstration of experimental music. Their set consisted of music from their collaborations, music of their own composition, plus a few Bach numbers thrown in. Those classical pieces became, for us, the few enjoyable moments of the evening (ever heard a Bach Organ Prelude played by mandolin and concert bass? It can be surprisingly pleasent).

But they never went near any of their more standard work. Not one song from any of Thile's solo albums, nothing like his Nickel Creek days. And after two solid hours (with a short intermission), it all became too heavy. Too "out-there." It was, truly a disappointment.

Maybe if we'd been told ahead of time, and knew what to expect, we might have appreciated it more. Or, more likely, we wouldn't have gone, saving our money for Jolie Holland in Olympia next week. Truthfully - by the time we purchased the tickets, had a nice dinner out, spent the money on gas to get to Seattle and back, we were out a significant chunk of cash. And to hear "How to Grow a Woman" or "The Beekeeper" or "You're An Angel (and I'm gonna cry)" would have been worth it. But we got none of that.

All through the show, we kept telling ourselves "They've got to spend some time here, but they HAVE to pull out some of their other stuff. Too many people are looking forward to it." After the intermission we expected it. For the encore we expected it. But, nope. None of that.  To come with one set of expectations and be given something completely different was just, well, disappointing.

And I don't think we were the only ones. I noticed little pockets of people standing around at intermission, all dressed like bluegrass lovers, who had a haunted look in their eyes. Following the intermission I noted quite a few empty seats. Throughout the second half, I saw more and more people getting up quietly and walking out. Following their final song, when many stood to cheer and call for an encore, many more simply turned and left.

I hate to sound like a hick or a curmudgon, griping about this "new-fangled music" and wishing for something "dumbed-down." Truthfully, if we were on a college campus and had come for a night of experimental improv, I probably would have liked it. But this was so far away from what we were expecting, so different from what we had hoped. . .it was difficult to take.

And after 2 hours of odd chord structures, clashing riffs, atonal harmonies, euclidean time signatures, tweets and growls, moans and groans and exploding runs in the midst of pastoral clusters, after two hours of "Rabbit Cake" and "G222" and "The Fencepost," I just couldn't stand anymore.

It's rare for me to say this after a concert, but this time around, I really wish we had saved our money and stayed home.

Except, of course, that's it's always nice to be out,  and it was nice for the kids to see grandma and grandpa. I suppose those were the ultimate highlights of an otherwise dreary evening.

No offense to Chris or Edgar - you guys are amazing players. I just needed something to which I could tap my foot, and you never delivered.

Finally, my presidential endorsement

I've found the candidate of my choice. Watch the news feed here.

What Clara's saying

"Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy."

Sunday. I'm Tired

At the church by 7:15.

New members class from 8:30-10:00.

A few brief conversations about dispensationalism and P.P. Waldenstrom.

Worship from 10:30-12:15ish, including a Q&A sermon that lasted almost 45 minutes. And the Lord's Supper.

A few more conversations.

A three hour board meeting to discuss the 2009 budget.

A quick check of the internet to check on the Seahawks' score.

Dinner and a bath.

Fire in the wood stove.

Kids needing some daddy time.

Bedtime calls.

Congregational Response to a Question & Answer Sermon

We go into the world, a world of mystery and wonder,
a world abounding in joy and majesty,
yet a world dimmed by pain and suffering. As we go,
we go sure of this: God is on the throne.
Our victory is assured through Jesus Christ.
Though now we see in part, one day we shall see in full.
Though now we see through dimmed eyes,
one day we shall see as clear as the dawn.
Until we see fully and know completely,
we will trust in what we do know,
we will trust in the One Who we know:
God the Creator,
Jesus the healer,
Spirit the comforter.
Our God – the greatest question the world has ever known,
Our God – the greatest answer we will ever find.

Pastoral Life

Begin the day with deep, quiet conversation with a soul seeking answers to difficult, life-altering questions. Lunch with dear friends, more deep soul-talk mixed with political banter. Back for a long-distance phone call from an old friend facing a wicked blender of financial issues, job issues, family issues, and major life changes. Then in pops a woman who has recently faced the excruciating pain of the death of a child, and we talk about grief and mourning and moving on and people who just don't know how to care. Then down at the house I end up in a spontaneous discussion about salvation and what it means to follow Christ with a man whose wife just kicked him out for wanting to go to church. He came by to check a water valve, and we ended up in a deep, quiet conversation over, well, deep soul issues.

This day's not even over yet and I've already walked deeper waters than I do in most weeks. Praise God for his faithfulness, and pray for those in need.

Kyrie eleison

Some Random Stuff

That metro-link train crash in LA a couple weeks back? Turns out the engineer was texting railroad hobbyists. Some people put the blame for the accident on the culture of train lovers. Now there's a growing backlash against said hobbyists. I think I better hide my train calender.
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On NPR this morning, they announced that Wal-Mart, in order to stave off a slower-than-usual holiday season, is opening its Christmas shops next week. You know that old saw "Christmas all-year-round"? It may be coming true.

Is it too early to throw out my yearly promotion of www.buynothingchristmas.org?

If so, maybe you should go read this article about the conditions in the Chinese factories in which most of Wal-mart's Christmas ornaments are produced.

Or at least rent What Would Jesus Buy? and watch it before you go shopping.

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Ben Witherington has posted an article by Dr. James Howell on the issue of "Rights vs. Responsibility."

Instead of “rights,” the Bible speaks of “gifts.” There is no “right to life.” Life is a gift, and this may be the compelling reason we do not have any right to destroy life. I do not have “rights” over my own body; God has those “rights.” My body is a gift of God, an instrument to be used in service to God, a temple of God’s Spirit, not a private domain for me to use as I wish. Christians get “responsibility” – which is “response-ability.” God has made us able to respond to God’s gifts. Responsible people do not gripe or whine so much as they get involved, they do something. Citizenship is responsibility, and perhaps the Christians could foster a buoyant hope in America life by simply refusing to play the “rights” card and instead lead the way in taking responsibility for the good stewardship of God’s gifts.

Good reading in today's political climate.
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Scot McKnight on why he remains an Evangelical and doesnt become Orthodox or Catholic.

Speaking of baseball

I don't know. . .it just doesn't seem fair that with only eight teams making it to into the baseball playoffs, Los Angeles and Chicago each get two teams in there. There ought to be a law that it gets spread around a little more or something.

October 27

That's the day I will have my corneal transplant. Around 1:30 in the afternoon. Expect me to look like a pirate that whole week.