The Distractions of Pettiness

"I appeal to you, brothers, to watch out for those who cause divisions and create obstacles contrary to the doctrine that you have been taught: avoid them." Romans 16:17

The church need only be guilty of the sin of division and pettiness to be rendered ineffective. Satan knows this well and has in many ways succeeded in destroying the voracity of the Holy Spirit's power in the church by dividing it. The church family in many ways is a broken family riddled with a history of divorce. Doctrinal differences, cultural shifts, and extra-Scriptural dogma, instead of pushing the Church into a period of growth through prayer and discussion, usually end in a heated parting of ways. It grieves my heart to look into the history of the church and find it so fragmented to be almost unrecognizable. It's even worse to know that I don't need to look further than my own sinful tendencies to understand why the Church is the way it is. I entertain division and petty doctrines constantly. I fail to take the advice of Paul and avoid them. How will the church be God's holy temple if it is a temple divided? How will we be a reflection of God's redemptive glory if we are a fragmented mirror?

Lord Jesus, convict us of our pettiness and return us to a heart and mind united by your Spirit. Lord, let us avoid divisions!

The Necessity of Prayer

"In return for my love they accuse me, but I give myself to prayer." Psalm 109:4

It frightens me sometimes how often my response to difficulty and criticism is self-reliance. When my back is up against a wall, when I feel misunderstood, when the plan falls apart, I frequently look only into my own store room of gifts and talents to see what I can offer to fix the situation. It pains me to admit this because there is nowhere in scripture that reflects that philosophy. God does not help those who help themselves, he helps the helpless. He does not reward the healthy, he heals the sick. He does not elevate the working, he fixes the broken. My deepest desire would be to stop looking to myself to fix things and expect God to honor it. I want to have the same attitude of the Psalmist, to give myself to prayer in all circumstances. Prayer is the only godly response to the helplessness of life. As Charles Spurgeon wrote, "A prayerless soul is a Christless soul." Prayer is not merely an option for Christian living, it is the option for Christian living.

Lord Jesus, take away my selfish self-reliant soul and replace it with a soul who lives and dies by the power of prayer and communion with you!

Reflection From a Soon to be Dad

On July 9th, 2010, I will become a dad.

It would be impossible to fully explain all the different thoughts, the joys and the doubts, the angst and peace, that go along with that truth. But I'm sure those who are dads can relate. It is the most terrifying and joyful thing to be expecting a first child.

About a month ago, Lauren and I went in for our first ultrasound. Up until that point, it wasn't real for either of us. We were so concerned about how to pay for things, whether we were ready, outright denying it, that the full weight of a baby forming in Lauren's womb hadn't hit either of us. And then we saw on the screen a tiny pulsating white spot. Our baby's heart was beating so fast and working so hard. At that moment all of the worries and fears that had risen inside us vanished, and we both fell in love with that tiny heart nestled inside Lauren's caring womb.

A week ago we got to hear the heart again. It's still beating proudly, anxiously waiting to scream it's way into our family. As I wrestle with all that's going on and the prospect of being a dad, something hit me that I don't think ever could've hit me without becoming a father. Jesus was once that little beating heart inside Mary's womb. Now I can't help but wonder how God the Father processed seeing his only Son, whom He had been with for eternity, developing from an embryo into a fetus, into a baby, into a child, and into a man. Did his heart leap the first time he looked into Mary's womb and saw his Son's first heartbeat? Did he take a picture of it and put the sonogram of it on his heavenly fridge for all the saints and angels to look at and cheer? Did he melt as he saw Jesus's hands form, his eyelids develop, his kicking legs grow? Did he jump when Mary jumped as Jesus moved and stretched? Even as an expectant father, I can't imagine the joy God took in watching His Son develop.

But as God peered down to see this baby form, I'm sure His joy was mixed with sorrow. The only reason His Son had to become a man in the first place was because the world sinned. Despite all the delight God might have taken in his Son's birth, the inevitable death and torture awaiting his Son couldn't have been far from his mind. What love and pain the Father must have felt in seeing his Son give up his heavenly body and become a man!

I have been so overwhelmed with delight witnessing our baby grow. But I likewise know that the precious beating heart inside Lauren right now will be born into a world of darkness and sin. I am so happy to be a dad, but I weep that our future child will suffer the world of sin. My only hope is that our child will be saved by the beating heart God was so pleased with 2000 years ago.

In thinking about all this, Christmas has taken on a new depth. It is a celebration. God became a man and was born to be the Lamb of God, the Savior, the Christ, Immanuel! But for me this year, it is a celebration rooted in sorrow because his birth was only necessary because of my wretchedness--his incarnation was due to a world of darkness and his purpose in birth was death.

This Christmas let us rejoice for salvation, but let us mourn it's necessity.

"For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him." John 3:17

The House Always Wins

This is an article I wrote for my dad's blog on Family Matters website. I just thought I would share it with you guys here as well.

...

It was my first trip to a Casino. My friends and I had just turned 18, and in the ignorance and foolishness of youth, we were all eager to try those things that you had to be 18 to do...like legally gambling at a real casino. We drove out to the reservation with ten dollars in each of our pockets and the naïve hope that we could win big in each of our hearts. We decided that ten dollars was all we were spending and no matter what, once we were out, we were done.

Needless to say, we learned a valuable lesson that night: 10 dollars doesn't last long in a casino. Within a few minutes of scattering to the different traps the casino had to offer, we were back together minus both our money and our delusional hope for quick cash. We did have fun though. Likening it to spending 10 dollars at a movie theater, we decided it wasn't a waste of money...so we went back a few weeks later.

My second time at the casino was a very different experience. We all returned with the same plan, same ten dollars, and the same vain hope. But this time I didn't come away excited to go back.

Perhaps because of the novelty the first time, I hadn't really observed my surroundings. But as I walked around the quarter slots, and the dollar blackjack tables, I couldn't help but notice the tired and desperate eyes surrounding me.

I noticed the old women in cheap clothing putting quarter after quarter into slot machines with no reward. I saw broken, zombie-like men in ragged suits at the black jack table doubling down on money they couldn't afford to lose; their only sign of life being that greedy gleam in the corner of their eyes driving them to bet again.

When I left that night (losing my ten bucks again), I felt the mixture of pity and anger common to witnessing injustice and exploitation. My views of casinos certainly changed. Sure, no one is holding a gun to these people's head forcing them to come in and part with their money. Yet there is no doubt that casinos promote the myth that all worries can be gone with one roll of the die, one pull of the arm on the slot machine, or one flip of the right card.

In the end, the only people truly getting rich at casinos are the casinos. It's true what they say, “The house always wins”...and it made me very sad and angry to witness it.

After reading a recent article in the New York Times, I had the same feeling. The article, entitled “Believers Investing in the Gospel of Getting Rich”, was about the Southwest Believer's Convention in Fort Worth, TX. Started by Kenneth and Gloria Copeland, the Southwest Believer's Convention preaches the gospel of prosperity. If you sow the seed of your hard earned money in this well-dressed servant's ministry, and have enough faith, God will give you an abundant harvest - more than you can ask or think. If you invest enough in this preacher's vision, someday you can enjoy the cruises to Alaska, vacations to Hawaii, and a mansion like this servant of God. Who knows? God may even throw in a giant vault of money that you can go swimming in every morning - just like Scrooge McDuck. The prosperity gospel is a theology that turns God's blessing into the winning number on the roulette wheel and Jesus into a pit boss.

The article mentioned numerous individuals, some in debt upwards of $100,000 who travelled 1000 of miles to take their chances at this Christian Casino. While they were there they dropped tons of their money into the spiritual slot machine of prosperity preaching. Among the needs that these thousands of desperate followers were investing in was a Lear Jet for the preacher's ministry and big, new HD flat screen televisions for their offices - because if we've learned anything from the Apostle Paul it's that we need Lear Jets and flat screen TV's to spread the good news of Jesus Christ.

After reading the article, I was tempted to drive down I-30 and shake every single person there asking them, “What are you thinking?!?!?!”

I didn't. But I really wanted to.

It's tempting to go off in anger about this, but I have to refrain. We live in a free country. People are free to delude others and even free to be deluded. And even though this kind of spiritual injustice and exploitation is easy to spot I'm hesitant to coldly come down harshly on the people who get sucked into it. That's because of the subtle way I frequently fall into the same trap.

It should come as no surprise that the economy is in a recession right now. Although my wife, Lauren, and I haven't lost money in the same way others have, we have nonetheless seen the results of the bleak economy on our own finances. I can't tell you how many times my prayers have gone something like, “God if only Lauren or I could have a better job, or if only my hourly wage could be a bit higher, then we could really serve you more effectively. Am I not tithing enough? Didn't you promise your blessings on those who follow you?”

Much to my shame, I have said those things to God. And in the process, I realize that I'm doing the same thing people at this convention were doing as they walked up to the altar and laid down what little money they had. I wasn't looking for God's blessing, I was longing for God's jackpot.

In John 4, Jesus meets a woman from Samaria at a well. After asking for a drink he tells her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,' you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.” (John 4:10) I imagine the Samaritan woman's desperate eyes light up. Thoughts of never making the tiring trek to the well or lugging the heavy water pots on her shoulder race through her mind. She starts to salivate for the liquid payola she sees in the man sitting next to her. I can't help but see myself in that same situation leaning into Jesus pleading, “Give me this water so I won't be thirsty anymore!”

In the end, Jesus doesn't give her any water; he gives her himself.

In this we find the deception of the prosperity preaching that distills God's blessing down to a crap shoot. We find the folly in asking God for a better job, or a repaired economy, or good looks, or food that always fills, or water that always satisfies. God, indeed, wants to bless us; to give us an abundant life and living water so we never thirst again. He just doesn't give it to us the way we expect it. He gives us himself.

While processing all of this I can't help but feel that the loss of net worth, the imploded stock markets, the unemployment, and the quiet desperation creeping into our souls is, in fact, God's blessing on America. It's his way of coming down and gracefully shaking us into seeing how blessed we've been all along. He's saying, “I'm not actually talking about real water, or bread, or riches. I'm talking about myself. And I'm willing to diminish your access to those things to help you find me, know me and enjoy the truly abundantly life I have to offer.”

The problem with casinos is the same thing that's wrong with the health and wealth gospel. They both assume that our lives will be better if we just have more money and creature comforts. But in the end, "the house” - hose people controlling and peddling all these promises - are the only ones who really win.

With Christ it's different. The Bible says we have been built into Him, that our blessings spring from being part of the structure of the kingdom of God - with Christ as the cornerstone. (1 Peter 2:4-7; Ephesians 2:19-22) Instead of the house of God exploiting those that visit, God wants to build us into his house, giving us the richest blessing of all...himself. We believers are the house! And as I ponder the truth of all the riches I have in Christ, I can't help but grin and think, the house really does always win.

The God of Rain

I was awoken at 3:30 this morning by crashes outside our bedroom window. Flashes of light bolted through and made shadows dance briefly on the wall, and then another crash. Our windows were shaking. I remember looking at the weather last night and knew there was a chance of rain. But this storm was on a different level. I imagined those National Geographic specials on storms and floods and pictured our house breaking as the floods tore it apart. I imagined us being that group of huddled people floating down the street, Lauren, me, and the dog all huddled into the center of the bed while lightning and rain and thunder displayed it's awesome and terrible might around us. I'm much more dramatic in the early morning. The storm, as intense as it was, was not National Geographic bad.

As Lauren rolled over for me to hold her, a different thought came into my mind. I started picturing the disciples in the middle of the sea when the storm hit. As Deadliest Catch has taught me, storms at sea are far more dangerous and frightening than ones on land. I imagined the disciples screaming at each other to cut the sails as Andrew and Peter grabbed anything they could to scoop water out. I imagined food and clothing being thrown off the side as John and James got knocked into the hull by a giant wave. I imagined a lot of swearing, and last thoughts and final regrets, and tears as they braced themselves for that final wave, that final bolt of lightning that would send them each into their end in the sea. And then I imagined Jesus sleeping, trying to rest from days of teaching and healing people. I always picture him sleeping on his side, but who knows, he may have been sprawled out in the back of the ship's cabin.

I realize this all sounds a little over the top, but like I said, I'm far more dramatic in the early morning hours. As I pictured the scene of the disciples in the boat in the middle of the storm with Jesus in the back sleeping, I remembered the outcome of the story. The winds and the waves obeyed him, he calmed the storm. As I layed holding my sleeping wife, I just repeated over and over, "The winds and the waves obey him. He calms the storms." Needless to say, I was overwhelmed. The storm surrounding us made our room light up as if there were 100 halogen lamps flashing and our windows shake as if elephants were wrestling in the room next to us. But with a word from God, the storm would cease. For the rest of the morning, as the storm intensified and waned, intensified and waned, I lay in terror and wonder at the awesome power of God. And I feared Him.

Gran Torino and the Cry for True Manliness

So last night Lauren and I watched the movie Gran Torino. It was amazing!


Apart from being scared to death of Clint Eastwood, it opened my eyes to something about our culture. I found throughout the movie that it was strange that I liked Clint Eastwood's character. He was racist, bitter, irreligious, and an alcoholic, but somehow he ended up being one of the more respectable and strong heroes I'd seen in a movie in a long time. As I caught myself being sucked into the movie, I couldn't help but ask why I liked the character so much.

After watching the movie it's plain to so see why he was such a great protagonist. He had courage. He had no tolerance for bullies. He spoke things directly. In the end, he proved to be a great example of genuine manliness...which got me thinking...

I might be reading into the movie and the implications it has for society a little too much, but I think this movie shows an underlying desire by men to be real men. It is apparent that men being men is not the norm in this culture. Senators and other men in power are being seen more and more to betray their commitment to their family, their values, and their duties as a leader, for their own selfish pleasure. Men are becoming more content to sit at desks and get by then be extraordinary at what they do. Even men in ministry are often times more content to sit in meetings, stay in church and outsource the scary parts of ministry then lead by doing.

It seems like the culture we are living in is exactly the culture we can expect. Boys with no dads are now growing up to be men with no courage. And I think people are starting to realize it and miss having a man in the house.

Anyway, it was a great movie and it reminded of the importance of being a man in a culture full of cowards and bullies.

The Chaos of Beginning Greek

So last Monday I began studying Greek at Dallas Theological Seminary. It has been a challenging and exciting week and a half. A lot of studying, a lot of flashcards, a lot of paradigms, declensions, and parsing. I will admit though, in spite of all of the craziness of Greek, it has been amazing to dive head first into the language of the New Testament. Dr. Daniel Wallace, one of the professors of Greek wrote an article on the importance of the study of the ancient languages. I want to share some of what he wrote:

"The Protestant Reformation never would have gotten off the ground unless Luther had a Greek New Testament in his hands and in his heart. And the history of Protestant seminaries is such that when schools lose the languages they lose their theological underpinnings. When professors are the only ones who know the text in the original, then they can tell their students anything they want without challenge. The great battle cry of the Reformation was "ad fontes"--back to the sources! And by this they meant the Greek and Hebrew texts."

I had never thought of the languages that way. The study of Greek and Hebrew is what protects the church from the whims of the language of culture.

I feel honored to be joining the rank of men who have protected the word of God and it's original intention. I just hope that future ministers will never view the languages as irrelevant.

The Forgotton Art of Holiness

We're starting a new series at Fellowship Bible this upcoming week and were discussing it in the weekly worship meeting. The series is going through 1 Peter and is asking the question of how we should live as exiles in a land that is not our home. So...how should we live? With the great price Jesus paid for our salvation, how should we live?

I think my generation has done well in embracing salvation through grace. The book of Romans and Galatians have become a favorite and the message that we can come as we are to throne of Christ and be made whole again by His death and resurrection is our spiritual heartbeat. I am so glad we are exchanging salvation through legalism for grace and I hope it continues to permeate our spiritual paradigm.

However, something I've observed about my generation is that our spiritual journey often times stops at salvation through grace. It really isn't popular to talk about the process of becoming righteous after salvation. We've bought the lie that it's okay to stay the same sinner we were when Jesus first found us. It is true that Christ's forgiveness covers our sins, both past and future. But God's mercy does not justify our license to stay spiritual babies our whole life.

The book of 1 Peter addresses that very thing. Peter is pleading with the elect to live holy. Since our salvation is so great and the grace of God so grand, we shouldn't cheapen those things by not enduring suffering for the sake of holiness. The lack of holiness in my generation's spiritual journey is becoming pandemic, and it is frustrating. It frustrates me because I know just how much I cheapen the grace of God by my own license and I see how much our message of grace is being hurt by the lack of transformation that occurs after our salvation.

Salvation and transformation should never be compartmentalized into separate things. The art of holiness and the long process of brokenness, suffering, and faith that gets us there is what gives credibility to salvation.

The Boldness of the Apostles

So recently I've been reading through the book of Acts and I'm amazed how bold the apostles were in the way they shared the gospel then. They were almost rude about it at times. When Stephen delivers his final sermon he closes with a fairly vindictive indictment of the Jews prosecuting him. This happens over and over again throughout the book of Acts. It made a lot of people mad, but it made the gospel very clear to those listening.

It has challenged me in the way I think of sharing the truth about Jesus. When I talk about Him and scriptural truth, I'm very often delicate in the way I talk about it. I don't want to offend or "turn people away" so I often tip toe around the sins of others and the full power of the truth. I wish I didn't do this and could have the boldness of the Apostles. It might get me in more trouble, but it also wouldn't water down the gospel.

The Anonymous Man's Second Coming

The Man looked through his window.
street cars, street sounds, street smells,
a pitter-patter of rain

The Man stared through His window
why send me for this?

Abraham walks to the Mountain of God afraid

In the city, all are anonymous
rain unique and then crashing upon asphalt
evaporating invisibly into the sky

The Man scribbles into the wood
"Everyone was expecting me, but nobody noticed."

Abraham shivering raises the knife
But doesn't see the ram

The Man crashed through the window
street cars, street sounds, street smells
the pitter-patter of pain

In the sky he was finally noticed, but not for why He came

Abraham treks down the Mountain of God
a murdering man ashamed

A Few of My Favorites Right Now

Margot & the Nuclear So and So's

Margot and the Nuclear So & So's - As Tall as cliffs - A Take Away Show from La Blogotheque on ef="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo.

Horsefeathers

Horsefeathers perform live at Portia and Slim Moon's BBQ from Dave Allen on Vimeo.

Bon Iver

#93.2 - BON IVER - Flume
Uploaded by lablogotheque - Explore more music videos.

A Lot Can Happen in a Day...

So this weekend my wife and I decided to build a rock bed in our back yard. It was a great way to start the day and a lot of fun. However, what we didn't know was that underneath our house, our main sewage drain was backing up with dirt and water as a result of root damage and line breaks. It's amazing how much can change in a day. That night we were up till 2 in the morning waiting for city workers to finish digging a ten foot hole in our front yard to the main sewage line to see if there was blockage on the city side. There wasn't. The following day, a dump truck, earth mover, jack hammer, four city workers, and a plumber were camped outside our house deducing our plumbing problems.

In the end, we got the news that our problems would range in the three thousand dollar range. A lot can happen in a day...

Although we are now weighing all of our options, getting second and third and fourth opinions, considering what part of the work we can do ourselves, the whole experience has turned out to be a subtle but great blessing from God. The news couldn't have come at a worse time. In a month I will be an unemployed student, school is expensive, Lauren's hours will be cut back, and, after our plumbing mishap, our emergency fund will be close to depleted. Oh...and our washing machine broke.

It's amazing how quickly God can strip the comforts and delusions of safety from us and make us cling to Him. After the initial shock of everything, my wife and I slowly began to realize that our panic and fear was contrary to what we believe about God and His love for us. That evening, feeling the weight of uncertainty crushing my chest, Proverbs 3:5 began to whisper in my ear.

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding."

I had memorized that verse in AWANA when I was five. But that evening it became more than just a sentence, it became the Spirit pleading with me to trust Him. It reminded me that my wife and I now have a wonderful opportunity to trust God without the distractions of financial comfort, to cling to each other without the predication of stability, and to put our hope completely in the will of God and His good grace towards those whom He has chosen.

So as strange as it sounds, I thank God for old pipes, a bad economy, and an unknown plan. Because of all those things, my wife and I can stop trusting in our budget and emergency fund to save us, and start trusting that our shepherd knows where He's leading us.

Ravi Zacharias and Post-Modernism

This afternoon I took our dog to the dog park at White Rock Lake and brought a book I've been meaning to read for a while, Jesus Among Other Gods by Ravi Zacharias. I first heard Ravi Zacharias while driving from Arizona back to Texas after one of my breaks from school. My youth pastor and mentor Randy gave them to me with only the introduction that this man will change my life. I can still remember listening to his lectures about "Can Man Live Without God" while driving through the forests and plains of northern Arizona and New Mexico. The experience oddly enough, was one I don't think I'll ever forget. Listening to this brilliant yet humble man talk about how he came to know God and who Jesus was in the midst of all the other world religions was profound and life changing. At the time, it was something I really needed. College had posed a serious intellectual challenge to my faith and without thinkers like Ravi Zacharias and others, I could have very easily been swept up into the same pseudo-spiritual post-modern thinking that has paralyzed so many others of my generation.

So, of course I shouldn't have been surprised this afternoon when, within pages of the beginning, he challenged my soul once again. His book begins with a candid look at the true nature of post-modern thinking. As I prepare for full time ministry, I often times forget the particular challenges I will have to face doing ministry in the post-modern, technological, and information-overloaded world. The absolute claim of Christ as the only way to heaven has never been more distasteful to the metanarrative of a culture as it is today. I wanted to share with you what Ravi Zacharias wrote about post-modernism because it really encouraged me and reminded me of the difficult battle those in ministry have of teaching the gospel of Jesus Christ.

"Yet if the human spirit is to survive and every legitimate discipline to find fruitful expression, truth cannot be sacrificed at the altar of a pretended tolerance. All religions, plainly and simply, cannot be true. Some beliefs are false, and we know them to be false. So it does no good to put a halo on the notion of tolerance as if everything could be equally true. To deem all beliefs equally true is sheer nonsense for the simple reason that to deny that statement would also, then, be true. But if the denial of the statement is also true, then all religions are not true."

I'm excited to read more and be challenged more by this man's faith and brilliance. I'm sure I will be writing more about what I read in his book.

In Celebration of Freedom...

A Post-Christian America?

Apparently the recent findings of a survey have caused quite a stir in the evangelical community.

"According to the American Religious Identification Survey that got Mohler's attention, the percentage of self-identified Christians has fallen 10 percentage points since 1990, from 86 to 76 percent."

This quote came from another article I saw in Newsweek about the effects this survey has had on America. Since this survey has come out, there has been an uproar about America becoming less Christian and more secular, mainly by Christians. I talked about my initial reaction to these finding's in a recent post. In the Newsweek article, Meacham talks about how many Christian conservatives are labeling the present as a post-Christian time. Of this he writes,

"Let's be clear: while the percentage of Christians may be shrinking, rumors of the death of Christianity are greatly exaggerated. Being less Christian does not necessarily mean that America is post-Christian. A third of Americans say they are born again; this figure, along with the decline of politically moderate-to liberal mainline Protestants, led the ARIS authors to note that "these trends … suggest a movement towards more conservative beliefs and particularly to a more 'evangelical' outlook among Christians." With rising numbers of Hispanic immigrants bolstering the Roman Catholic Church in America, and given the popularity of Pentecostalism, a rapidly growing Christian milieu in the United States and globally, there is no doubt that the nation remains vibrantly religious—far more so, for instance, than Europe."

I'm going to have to agree with Meacham on this. It is very much so an exaggeration to conclude that a 10% drop in religious affiliation, from 85% to 75%, signifies a post-Christian age.

I'm also reading Donald Miller's book Searching for God Knows What and have found his examination of Religion very insightful into the current response of American Christians, and certainly my own responses, to the recent religious survey.

Donald Miller writes, "It is true people need Jesus, not religion. And yet at times I am concerned our most passionate missionary endeavors are more concerned with redeeming our identity as Christians within the {fallen culture} than with presenting Jesus to a world looking for a God." In an earlier chapter on Morality (a very good chapter) he writes:

"I assure you, once we leave the fight over our country's future and enter the spiritual battle for the hearts and souls of the lost, the church will fourish, and the kingdom of God will grow. God is not in the business of brokering for power over a nation; He is in the business of loving the unloved and pulling sheep out of crags and bushes."

So I guess the question I'm asking myself is why do I care if a survey says there are less people affiliated with churches in America now than ever before? When has that ever mattered to Jesus?

Something to think about...

Rethinking the Gospel

Have you ever tried to recreate a moment for a picture? Like that time your friend tripped down the stairs into the man walking on stilts or the time you opened up your big Christmas present when you were five or the first time you looked at your future wife and knew she was the one. Whenever these once in a lifetime moments happen, the camera never seems to work fast enough. So we try to reenact it, try to recreate it so that we can capture that memory on film forever, to show our friends and family and future children.

But the truth is, those pictures are never as good as the original moment. We always show those pictures and qualify it by saying, "You should've seen it in real life, this picture just doesn't do it justice." It's just a stale imitation of what it originally was.

Sometimes I think the way we present and think about the gospel is a lot like a reenacted picture. The story and picture we show our friends doesn't come close to the profound experience of it.

John 17:3 says, "And this is eternal life, that they know you the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent."

Although I had read this verse before, the impact of what Jesus said had never really hit me. When I think of the gospel I always think of the Romans road, or the giant canyon with me on one side and God on the other and the cross being the only bridge across. But when I read this verse, I get the impression that there is something more to the gospel than just the facts.

Eternal life is knowing God, and Jesus whom He sent. Eternal life isn't knowing the facts or the belief systems. It's the difference between looking at a picture of the Grand Canyon and driving through northern Arizona to experience it for yourself.

I think this helps me to understand the lack of impact the gospel can have on people here in America. All I present to people most of the time is just a reenacted picture of the real thing. I'm not bringing them with me to meet God and see for themselves, I'm not showing them how it feels to be completely loved and redeemed and walking in the presence of the ever-mysterious, infinitely majestic, and joyfully frightening God.

And that's why much of the world responds to the gospel with, "Maybe if I had been there..."

A Charge to Worship Leaders

As someone involved in worship leading, I'm always trying to better understand the role worship leaders play in the church. In my first year of college I did a lot of research on the role worship plays in the church and you can read about it by downloading the Worship Chapter of We Who Have Ears.

Sometimes I can't help but feel like the role of the worship leader in a church is not much more than the leader of pep-rally before a big game. Worship leaders are usually not expected to be involved in the scriptural shepherding of the congregation and generally do not have much pastoral connection with the congregation apart from the Sunday services.

I understand that each person in the church has their role and that the worship leader is not the same as the teaching pastor or pastor of counseling. At the same time, I think many worship leaders have forgotten that their first responsibility, like any other person in leadership in the church, is shepherding the congregation.

I know as a worship leader I have been guilty of putting the music planning and service flow before other responsibilities. Many times, I didn't even consider things like discipleship and scriptural shepherding as my responsibility. They were just added bonuses if I had time to get around to them.

The more I experience the church and the way it functions, I think that worship leaders, in an attempt to free them up to perfect the music and flow of the service, have been marginalized to a role that is much smaller than it was intended to be. Why aren't worship leaders active in discipling? Why aren't we active in teaching? Why aren't we active in counseling members of the congregation? Why aren't we expected to understand the Bible in a way most other pastors are expected to understand it?

I want to challenge my fellow worship leaders to see their role in a new and bigger light. We are not just band leaders and our main responsibility isn't to the music or the service flow or even the other band members, choir members, and orchestra members. Our main responsibility is to shepherd the flock and build the spiritual depth of our community.

Modern Day Indulgence: The Prayer Cross

I just saw another commercial for the Prayer Cross, and I was once again outraged by it. Martin Luther renounced the selling of indulgences in his 95 Theses:

"The treasures of the indulgences are nets with which they now fish for the riches of men."

The Prayer Cross is a disgusting exploitation of Jesus that preys upon poor or lonely people searching for hope. They are wolves in sheep's clothing seducing the flock into buying a cheap piece of jewelery all the while promising peace and joy.

It is through Christ and Christ alone that people are saved and given hope. I hope this company shuts down, and I hope they can find Christ in the midst of their own lies.

"For my people have committed two evils:
they have forsaken me,
the fountain of living waters,
and hewed out cisterns for themselves,
broken cisterns that can hold no water."
Jeremiah 2:13

The Audacious Gospel of Jesus

I am sometimes blown away at the lengths we go to make Jesus seem cool to everybody else.





But Jesus isn't trendy, not in the way we desperately want him to be. Every attempt our culture makes, including Christians, to portray Jesus as cool and acceptable plays down the truth that he is the only way to salvation.

In reading through John, it is unmistakable that Jesus claims to be the only way to the Father. Which, despite how true and necessary that claim is, is not a cool thing to say.

I wonder what would happen if we stopped putting our efforts into making Jesus cool, and just preached the audacious gospel that Jesus requires. We probably wouldn't be popular, Jesus probably would be hated by more people, but at least Jesus wouldn't be just another cool commodity on our multi-pathed spiritual journey.

The Calm Before the Storm

I will begin my time at Dallas Theological Seminary on June 1st. I will start with Greek for the summer and then hit the fall semester with a pretty full load. I've been out of an academic setting for about two and a half years, and I'm pretty excited to get back into it. I'm one of those rare dorks that really likes school, and I can wait to smell the perfume of used textbooks mixed with coffee while I pour over a paper in the middle of the night.

As I prepare for this next stage in Lauren's and my life, it hits me that a lot is going to change in a few months. My time and priorities will have to be re-organized, my sleep patterns will shift, my work schedule will be revised, and my knowledge will hopefully be challenged and expanded deeply.

But there are a few things that I'm committed to keeping the same. And here they are:

1. I will maintain a growing love for my wife, no matter how tired I am, no matter how distracted I am with school. It is amazing how much love grows when you're married and making the marriage a priority. It's like everyday I get to find another reason to fall in love with Lauren, and I will stay committed to that.

2. No matter how academic a pursuit theology may be, my view of the Godhead will always be full of wonder and mystery. I think one of the greatest offenses we can commit towards God is approach thinking we understand Him. I know that studying at DTS will give me a lot of knowledge about the Bible and history and expository techniques, but I am committed to letting God become more mysterious the closer I get to Him.

3. I will not live outside of our means, including seminary. Right now we are in a position (through careful budgeting and saving) to afford seminary. But I don't want seminary to ever become more important than living financially responsible.

4. Date Lauren regularly.

I'm sure there are other things, but those are the ones I was musing over. I'm excited about the next phase, but during this calm before the storm, I feel it necessary to get my priorities straight.

Sigur Ros Take Away Show

Take Away Shows will suck you in if you are not careful. Here is Sigur Ros playing in a small Paris cafe. It's amazing!


Sigur Ros - Við spilum endalaust - A Take Away Show from La Blogotheque on Vimeo.

The Keyboardless Computer

My wife and I were in Houston this last weekend and were shown this video by our sister and brother in law. Very funny!

The Globalization of Community: When The Ends of the Earth Become Our Jerusalem

I've been reading the book The World is Flat by Thomas Friedman, and it has really gotten me thinking about the way globalization affects spiritual community and local community.

For example, it is typically taught that when the Great Commission talks about being witnesses in Jerusalem, it is talking about starting the great commission locally and then moving out from there. Up until recently, the question of 'what is local' has never been a problem. But with the growth of technology, specifically the rampant growth of "communities" via the internet, the lines of local and distant have blurred.

I often times feel more local with friends living on the other side of Dallas, or backpacking through Europe, or studying in South America, or fighting in Iraq, than I do with people living next door to me. Is this bad? Is the shifting of 'local' to transcend it's geo-political nature a bad thing? Or is it just an inevitable shift?

The hard part about this question and why I think it can cause controversy, is that we are still a world in transition. Although I might relate my local community more along the lines of those people I am connected with through technology, my next door neighbor may not.

This idea of 'local community' is a far more complex issue than can be addressed in a blog post, but I thought I would at least mention it. It seems like the ends of the earth have become our Jerusalem in many instances, and it will take sometime to sort the impact of that out.

Make Stuff, Sell Stuff, and Buy Stuff: America's True Legacy

In a New York Times column by David Brooks, America is described as a Commercial Republic. Unfortunately, I have to agree. The Greeks are known for the arts and philosophy, the Romans are remembered for their government, army, and architecture, Great Britain epitomized imperialism, and America will be famous for their stuff.

"But if there is one thing we can be sure of, this pause will not last. The cultural DNA of the past 400 years will not be erased. The pendulum will swing hard. The gospel of success will recapture the imagination." Brooks in his article is trying to inspire us. He shows many examples of the American commercial spirit thriving in the midst of economic turmoil and even though the entrepreneurial spirit isn't all over the news, our zeitgeist is the pursuit of success, and it will return.

Like I said, unfortunately, I agree with him. Our country, and often times me included, is obsessed with wealth and stuff. The amount of stuff we buy, the amount of hours we work, the great lengths we go for a larger salary, a better home, a newer car, is all really really absurd. But it is unfortunately what makes America, America.

When I read this article, I couldn't help but remember Jesus's conversation with the rich young ruler. I believe that in some ways the cultural pulse of America approaches Jesus the same way he did. We walk up to Jesus and say, "Look, we have tried to do all the right things. We have Christian schools, freedom that allows us to worship whenever and wherever we want. We have moral laws, we even have In God We Trust written on government buildings and money. What do we need to do get into your kingdom?" Jesus looks back at us, "It's good that you do all that stuff, but if you want to enter my kingdom, you need to get rid of all your stuff, give it to the rest of the world that needs it, and then come follow me."

And then we walk away.

Sometimes I worry that America is and always will be that camel trying to walk through the eye of a needle. The very thing that drives America is the very thing that makes it so hard for us to truly follow Christ.

I'm certainly guilty of holding onto things when God is clearly telling me to give them away.

Anyway...it was an interesting article.

Why Do They Leave? (So long Ryan Adams)

Here is a link to one of the many articles about Ryan Adams recent departure from music. He has influenced my approach and appreciation for music so much in the last few years, I can't help but feel sad about the announcement, but I understand.

Hopefully he will be back, but until then, I'll keep enjoying Heartbreaker and Love is Hell (my two favorites).

Here's to him...

Losing Ground: America's Religiouslessness

I read an article on ABC news yesterday about America becoming less religious and Christian. When I first saw the article title I was a little disheartened. It is hard to see evidence that the church and Christian religion are losing ground in America.

The article states that in the last 18 years, the percentage of Americans who claim to be Christian went from 86 percent to 76 percent. Much of the ground lost was in mainstream Protestant denominations like Methodists and Baptists. Along with the loss, the percentage of people claiming to have no religion have doubled.

On the one hand, I am sad to hear these statistics. In spite of some of my reservations, I am happy to live in a country where Christians have the freedom to worship and form community. On the other hand, I am encouraged to think how God will work in the midst of religion's slow decline.

I believe one of the biggest hindrances of the gospel in America is the myth that most Americans are already Christians. Maybe the recent decline in religiousness is really just a step towards honesty about the true spiritual state in America. The article talks about people claiming a belief in God or a relationship with Jesus, but not associating with religion.

Whenever I hear things like this, I have to remember that God's plan and ambition doesn't worry about statistics, and that He is still fervently pursuing His lost sheep wandering through lonely fields. America is certainly growing less religious, but God is not growing less adamant about His purposes.

So don't fear the stats and decline. Success is not measured by the amount of people claiming to belong to a church or a religious sect. Our success already happened on the cross, and we just have to continue to further the kingdom of grace.

Wilco

If you're a fan of Wilco, as I am, and just want to be reinspired about playing and creating music, watch their documentary "I Am Trying to Break Your Heart."

It's amazing, here are the opening credits:

The World off a String

Reading the book of Job is like searching for buried treasures in a field full of treasures. Job has so much in it that speaks to me. This morning I was reading Job talk about the glory of God in the midst of his affliction. He says, "He stretches out the north over the void and hangs the earth on nothing." (Job 26:7)

Today, the fact that the Earth is hung on nothing probably wouldn't surprise anybody. We know from Science that the Earth is suspended in space by its orbit and gravitational relation to the sun and the other planets around it. At least that's what we think. To an alien, that explanation may sound as ridiculous as somebody holding the whole world up by a giant fishing line. Then again, a lot of things would probably sound strange to an alien.

My point is this: Job was caught up in the midst of God's wonder. Not knowing whether the earth was round or flat, big or small, close or far from the sun and the moon and the stars, Job looked around and saw that what was going on was supernatural. Even in the midst of His pain and agony and loss he couldn't help but look around and wonder at what God does.

I look at the stars and think those are giant masses of gas expanding and contracting millions and billions and kajillions of miles away. I look at the seasons and think of the earths orbit around the season and the tilt of it's axis. I look at a tree growing and think of the cells of the seed multiplying into a tree and photosynthesis keeping it healthy. And as I think about myself thinking these things, I'm suddenly sick to my stomach.

I forget who tells the Earth to spin, who put gravity in it's place and proportioned it perfectly to make the universe function the way it does. I forgot who expands and contracts the stars and holds the universe in space. I forgot who tells the birds to fly south or north or who told the tiny seed that it was going to grow up to be an oak tree. I forgot that when I actually allow my wonder of the world around me to happen, Science explains very little of the ultimate how's of the world and tells nothing of the why's.

God hangs the earth on nothing...and that doesn't shake me to the core. I hate that I settle for science over wonder. It's like settling for water and vitamin supplements over the juiciest steak, the creamiest mashed potatoes, the most flavorful beer, and the richest chocolate I could ever taste. Science is just part of the great lie Satan has used to keep us from looking up, looking around, looking at eachother, and looking at ourselves and saying in sheer amazement, "Oh God! What have you done?!"

The greatness of God's majesty is just one of the things we keep forgetting. And for the Church here in America to be restored, it's something that we need to remember.

Planting Trees in a Dead Forest

This morning I was driving down one of the main roads near my house in search of Shipley's Doughnuts for my wife. On one of the main corners right by my house I saw a church, and directly next to it another church. Across the street I noticed another church, with one directly next to it as well. 4 different churches on the same street corner!

For someone who feels called to church planting, the sight of four churches on the same street corner can be a little disconcerting. First off, how could I, or anyone for that matter, ever justify planting a church in a town that has multiple churches on every main intersection. Second, what is so lacking in anyone of those churches to necessitate three other ones directly next to them.

I have not been to those churches, so I do not know what is happening in them, what God is doing, whether the grace and glory of God is being preached in those churches. I hope that it is. I hope that God is using every single church on every single street corner in Dallas to further His kingdom.

But I can't help but feel like there is something wrong with this picture. Church planting can be thought of as going out and planting a tree in a barren wilderness. At least that's how I always thought of it. I always thought planting trees where trees were plentiful was kind of obnoxious. However, my gut is saying there is more going on, or I should say less going on here in the South, than meets the eye. My experience has been that, although the South is definitely bigger on religion and church being part of everyday life, being spiritually alive is not much more prevalent in the South than it is anywhere else in America.

Which makes me wonder. Could church planters also be called to plant a tree in a dense but dead forest? I have to think about it, but I feel like there's more to this. I'm sure I'll be writing more about this.

The Power of the Gospel

I never used to be a morning person. Even in high school, my normal bedtime was around 1 or 2 AM. I just worked better at night, thought better at night and didn't really want to go to sleep. There are some people who like being asleep. My wife loves sleep and works very hard to get at least 8 hours every night. I'm the opposite. I love being awake. But I never used to like getting up early.

Things have changed and I am becoming a morning person. I don't know if it's just part of growing up or if it's a result of always needing to get up early for work or other things, but I have come to love the mornings. I've developed a routine. I'm kind of like a dog in that sense. Morning routines help me to have a balanced day. I wake up early and take our dog Duma on a walk and then5 I come home and make a bowl of cereal while Duma licks my toes under the table waiting for me to feed her. I typically try and read while I eat breakfast. Reading is something I deeply enjoy and need, but it takes discipline for me to do it, so making it a part of my routine helps. This morning I was able to go the gym after that. There are a lot of husbands that get married and then just let themselves go after. I really don't want to be that husband, my wife deserves the best of me.

The great thing about this routine is that, apart from the occasional barking from my dog, the sound of the Dallas winter wind and the constant background noise of traffic, my morning is quiet. There is something to be said about God speaking to you when it's quiet and only when it's quiet. My life is often times too loud to hear anything from God.

In the quiet this morning, I read this passage: "But blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear. For truly I say to you, many prophets and righteous people longed to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it." (Matthew 13:16-17)

As I went through the rest of this morning, I couldn't help but feel deeply convicted by this passage. I don't think I realize and remember what a privelege and blessing it is to live on our side of the gospel. I think about Jeremiah in shackles crying and lamenting the day God would save his people. I think of Simeon who refused to die until he held the Child sent to redeem him. I think of Moses wandering the wilderness longing for the fire or the manna or any sign that God's presence was near him. I think of those things and feel deeply ashamed at how I brush off and take for granted the presence of Christ in our souls and the saving power of His blood and resurrection.

The gospel in many respects has become a commodity in my life. It's a catch phrase that I tell myself when I'm down in the dumps, a bumper sticker I display on my car. I love my friend Paul's post about gospel tracts. It further denotes the commodifying of the gospel in our culture. After reading this morning Jesus tell his disciples what a blessing it was that they were living when they did and had what they had, saw what they saw, heard what they heard. I need God to convict me and remind me of the power of the gospel and the radical blessing we have in Christ's forgiveness.

The gospel is this: no matter how good or bad we are, despite God's overwhelming love for us, he can't accept us into his presence unless we're perfect. Which we are not. Some people may be better than others, but nobody is perfect. Except Christ. Instead of giving up completely on us and starting over, God decided we were worth saving, and did so by becoming a man, giving up the priveleges of being God, and suffering a sinner's execution on a cross, only to conquer that death and rise again to be our living Redeemer. Because of that, God poured all of His justice and wrath and anger on His Son, so that despite our imperfections and rebellion against God, we can believe in the saving power of His sacrifice and be saved from God's inevitable wrath for our own sins.

And now, despite my sin and imperfection, I can be saved...and that truly is powerful...and I can't believe I take it or granted.

Stuff We Keep Forgetting

I don't want to be another Christian that beats up and hates on the Church. I realize that I do it and that it is easy to be the critic standing from a distance throwing stones. But I don't want to be that guy.

Here's the truth...I really love the Church. Not in the way that you love a weird uncle, but in an extraordinary way. I think when I get frustrated with things that are going on in churches around me, I can have a tendency to be scathing and mean. I tend to forget that the Church is, and always has been, a work in progress, and getting upset at it's imperfection is often times like getting upset at a 4 yr. old's inability to do quantum physics. Needless to say, I can go too far in my judgments and criticism, which I believe I have done in the last few posts and for that I'm sorry. I really just want you, me, the Sunday church-goer, the beat poet cynic, the coffee house critic, the hypocritical and sincere Christian alike, to take a good look at ourselves, not just as individuals, but as a community and ask what needs to change for us to become the city on a hill giving hope and direction to the millions still lost in the perilous wilderness.

The pastor at a Church my wife and I attended put it well this weekend. He talked about the author of Hebrews frustration with his congregation and their lack of spiritual maturity. "For though by this time you should be teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of the oracles of God. You need milk, not solid food." (Hebrews 5:12) He talked about how a common reason people will leave the church is because they are not being fed there. He said, "Babies get fed! It's about time we learned to put the spoon to our own mouth and feed ourselves on the meat of God's truth!"

I think much of the reason why I can be ineffectual, why we as a church are ineffectual and irrelevant to our communities, is because we haven't let ourselves mature past spiritual infancy. We are like a giant powerful body laying paralyzed on the ground because only a few of it's parts have realized that they are supposed to function.

We are a stumbling block to non-believers because of stuff we keep forgetting. We forget that God's gospel is powerful and doesn't just change where we go after we die, but it changes how we live now. We forget how powerful and ambitious God is. We forget how merciful Christ is. We forget how important the community of church is to God's plans. And on and on and on.

I want to examine those things that we keep forgetting, so that we as a Church body can continue to grow past infancy and be the force in our culture that God intended.

Adding things to Jesus

Last week I got a chance to grab a beer with my friend John after work. He started the same day I did at Demand Media and over the last year and a half or so, we've grown pretty close. After about 30 minutes of talking about music and records and quitting smoking and old friends, the conversation turned to the spiritual. John knows that I'm religious, and I know that John is okay with that even if we don't agree. He has the kind of temperament that is cool with you no matter what, unless of course you make the claim that such and such band is the greatest band in the world...he has no tolerance for statements like that.

John has a desire for God, but he's just not sure about Jesus. And not because he doesn't see the importance or the attraction of Jesus. He really likes what Jesus taught and sees him as a very interesting and important person. The issue that John has with Jesus and with Christianity ultimately is that it seems you can't accept Jesus without also accepting the Christian culture. He says he doesn't want to join some social club just to be spiritual. And honestly, I don't blame him.

If it wasn't for falling in love with Jesus the way that I have, there is no way I would want anything to do with the church. I'm not saying that's how everybody would be, but that's at least true for me. And it's not because there are no good people in the church. My closest, wisest friends I've made have been in the church. I was raised in the church. Many of the values I have were developed in church. There are many wonderful things the church offers, but it unfortunately does a lot that also creeps me out.

As John was talking and sharing his own issues with Jesus and the church and spirituality, I couldn't help but feel sad. Not pity sad, but sad because of all the things that we have added to Jesus to make Him so distasteful to John. It makes me sad that people feel they must dress a certain way, vote a certain way, talk a certain way, and spend time a certain way to meet and get to know Jesus. It makes me sad to think that my friend John might miss the chance to meet Jesus and save his life because we add so many distasteful things to the process of knowing him.

Paul wrote that he wants to know only "Christ and Him crucified." If only that were true for us. Then maybe people could see through all the bullshit, the smokescreens and mirrors, the Church creates to solidify it's power in the world. They could see Jesus for who he is...the God who became man, the superman sent to die, the badass revolutionary standing up to religious and political leaders, turning over tables in the temple and fighting to his death for the salvation of His creation.

We settle for worshiping such a small god sometimes and it makes it easy for friends like John to dismiss Jesus as irrelevant and not worth the fraternal hazing required to join the Christian club. I'm just glad that despite our petty false worship, our God truly is big and his love for us is giant, more powerful than anything we can know.

The Celebration of Recovery

Celebrate Recovery is a nationwide ministry focused on helping people recover from addictions, depression, or any other issue one might be struggling with. This last weekend at church, members of celebrate recovery walked on stage with poster boards with their struggle on one side and the victory over that struggle on the other and displayed them in front of the church. It was very powerful.

Wouldn't it be great if church was an institution built to help celebrate our recovery? So often when I walk into church, I feel like I'm walking into a meeting of Celebrate Having it Together.

Me: "Hi my name is Cody, and I'm doing just fine."
Everyone: "Hi Cody"
Moderator: "Hello everyone, thank you for coming to Celebrate Having it Together! I want to lay a few ground rules. Please be sure and smile a lot at each other and be up to date on the newest worship songs and Beth Moore bible studies. If you've had a bad day or week, make sure you leave those feelings outside of the meeting, we don't want you bringing down our joy level. Please don't swear or use any language that might offend or surprise anyone here. Conservative politics are welcome for discussion, but liberal politics may only be discussed negatively or in a joking manner. Please do not offend anyone...ever! Appropriate struggles are not having enough quiet times or not praying without ceasing or not witnessing enough to that dear old friend of yours who is just going through the hardest time. Of course, none of us are perfect, so we can expect these appropriate struggles. Remember, the happiness of our group members is the utmost priority, so whatever we can do to maintain the status quo, the better. Thanks for being here. Punch is in the back!"

Every once in a while, someone may come in and share their gutter to glory testimony, and we would cheer like good Christians and turn to our neighbors, whispering "Praise the Lords" under our breath. But behind our pitying praise, we would all be celebrating the fact that our lives are so together we have no need to share anything.

But do we have it together? Do we really have it together? Are the addictions and struggles, the anxiousness and depression, the sinful habits and selfishness experienced by those in Church any different from the ones I saw displayed last Sunday by Celebrate Recovery? Although I'm so happy things like Celebrate Recovery and Alcoholics Anonymous exist, I desperately wish they weren't necessary. The church shouldn't need an outside program to help deal with people recovering from sin. Every church meeting, every Bible study, every morning we wake up underneath the Law of God's grace, should be a celebration in recovery. But it's not, it's a celebration in saving face.

As I learned last Sunday, the first step in CR is admitting the need for recovery. Well, we desperately need recovery. I desperately need recovery. According to their website, the fourth and fifth step is admitting the sin to myself, God, and someone else I trust. It's time we as a church confess our sins and our inability to manage those sins on our own. So here it goes...

Church: "Hello, my name is the Church, and I am desperately insecure about my own legitimacy in this world. I am a coward who hides behind it's own piety and rituals. I live a double life and am a cheap imitation of the true church Christ paid for with His blood. I am afraid of the change that will occur when I surrender to God. I am afraid of the people that I would have to spend time with if I truly followed in God's footsteps. I am afraid of people seeing me for what I am. I am helpless against religiousness. I don't want to admit that I am just as bad as everyone else, because admitting that would shatter my already fragile ego. My name is the Church, I am a sinner and am in desperate need of help."
Everyone: "Hello Church, we're glad you're here!"

Blogging in Public

So this is my first attempt at blogging in public. My friend Matt and his band strangercousin is playing at a coffee bar in Austin. Being here and watching him play made me very proud of him. He is and most likely always will be the best songwriter I know, and hearing him play and share his music is really a treat.

In the recent months, my own view of music and songwriting, both in my own life and in general, has gone through some pretty drastic changes. I started writing songs because I thought it could actually change things. Eventually, my good intentions became clouded by my insecure need for other people to think my music was cool, and thus by association, consider me cool. Had it not been for my amazing wife and her loving honesty, I think the hypocrisy music was becoming in me could have poisoned music and songwriting to me for good.

But I am so glad God is helping me to rediscover the original joy music had been in me. A well written song, whether it be through melody, chord structure, rhyme, or rhythm, can somehow speak on a level otherwise unreachable. It's no mistake that music holds such an important place in the celebration and praise of God's character. Whether it be the angels singing in 1000 octaves or the trumpets and clanging symbals of the Psalms, music is a gift from God to help us celebrate God in a super human way.

I connect to God best through music. I think my own selfishness kept me from experiencing that frequently, but in those moments of humble guitar playing and singing, I feel in His presence completely. I hope that music will become my way of communicating with God again, whether in public or in private.

As it seems, it is more difficult to blog in public than I thought. Keeping a straight thought is hard.

My Band's Last Show?

This Saturday, my band Eliot Fitzgerald is playing what could be our last show...at least for a while. I will deeply miss playing with them when we move to Dallas. They were not only great guys to play with, but great guys to share life with...definitely best friends that I am honored to have. In light of our possible last show, I wanted to share a few of my favorite memories over the last three years.

Playing shows that nobody comes to...


Stephen Corkhill running on stage...


Costume parties...


James giggling behind the drums, Trey doing tribal dances...


and of course...Thriller Dance Parties!

Have You Seen My Snake?

If you want to pull a funny, terrifying, and perfectly harmless prank on house guests, have I got an idea for you. I probably won't be able to do this, so I thought I might share it:

Materials Needed:

• A guest room
• A history of quirkiness and spontaneity
  
• A snake cage, fully decorated
• Possibly a small mouse or two, to fully sell the prank

When your guest comes seeking a bed and room to lay there weary heads, invite them in with a smile and let them get comfortable. Have some dinner, some laughs, maybe even some tears. Don't mention the empty snake cage in their bedroom. Let them get comfortable and make sure it get's too late for them to leave and find a different house to stay at. If all goes as planned, send them off to bed. But before they get too comfortable, knock on the door and say, "I'm sorry, I totally forgot to feed my pet snake Pete." If you really want to sell it, bring in a live mouse with you. Despite their confused and fearful look, walk confidently over to the cage. Tap on it a few times, repeat the snake's name while dangling the mouse over the cage. After about fifteen seconds, turn around, not too quickly, not too slowly, and non-chalantly say, "I guess the snake escaped again, I hope you're not a really heavy sleeper." Then walk out of the room.

There is no snake, but they don't need to know that.

Hosea's Son: A Short Story

The grass was more yellow than green as it lined the farm fences along the highway. The trees had lost most of their leaves and the whole earth seemed to be covered in snow and ice and cold…but there was no snow. There was just fence post after fence post, yellow field after yellow field, gray sky followed by more gray sky. Winter surrounded the little car speeding down the country road, a cheap and half-hearted winter at best, but still a winter. Somewhere North or West or East of them, maybe even South, people were shoveling snow off the bottom of their boots, children were lying on their backs making angels in the ground, and cars were being spun into poles and trees by ice. But here, everything was just kind of dying, or at least momentarily giving up on looking the way it could. Jess, who had been looking out the window with one of those smiles that only comes when you’re completely content, looked over at Ammin and sighed, “Isn’t it beautiful outside?”

Ammin hadn’t noticed the outside but out of convention and a sincere desire to trick Jess into thinking that he was fine, looked over at her and said, “Oh yes, very beautiful.”

Ammin and Jess had been driving for over four hours and the conversation and excitement had begun to wear off. They loved each other though. It was the deep kind, the kind that doesn’t need to be excited to be content, the kind that could sit in silence next to each other in the middle of a disappointing winter and not be worried that they couldn’t think of anything to talk about. It was a real love, not like the winter outside. Jess just smiled looking through the car window, enamored by the yellow and gray, and Ammin just looked ahead, fearing the truth of what lay in front of him.

Ammin knew that as long as Jess didn’t say anything and maybe dozed off or something that he wouldn’t have to bring it up, or at least be able to put off talking about it for a little while longer. He just kept driving, kept being boring, kept putting on yellow and gray music to lull Jess into an uninterested and un-inquisitive haze. Ammin had feared this trip from the moment he knew he was in love with Jess. He knew it had to happen and that everything resting behind his name and his family and his horrible mother needed to come out and that Jess would want to know everything, but he was still afraid. And so they drove in silence, the faint sound of wind dancing through the fence posts, the occasional cow disinterestedly looking up at them, the yellow fields and gray skies rising and falling with every hill their little car sped over.

To Ammin, the trip was going perfectly, no questions asked, no secrets revealed, no pain, no anger. Jess was beautiful as she looked out the window, beautiful in the way she loved Ammin, beautiful in the way she hoped and continued to hope in the future that Ammin feared so much. Her delicate eyes were closing as the yellow atmosphere moved her into sleep, and just as Ammin thought she was asleep, Jess rolled over to face him, looked up with her wet and sleepy eyes, her rose shaped lips smirking just enough to show her dimples, and asked, “Do you think people can stay in love their whole life?”

Ammin responded quickly, “I’m sure they can.”

“I mean,” Jess went on, “I know people can love each other their whole life, people choose to do it, I know my parents have. But, I mean, can people be in love their whole lives? I see it in movies, and read it in books, and I know I can’t possibly imagine feeling anything but in love with you,” she blushed and smiled as she said this, “but I don’t know, sometimes I get scared that we will someday wake up next to each other some morning and love, but not feel in love.”

Ammin didn’t know what to say. Does she know what his mother did? Does she know about the nights he spent searching through the neighborhoods and bars with his dad? Does she know the tears he shed hearing his mom upstairs with other men? He would turn the music up to drown it out, or call his dad, or scream into his pillow. He hated his mom for cheating and he hated his dad for loving. How could she possibly ask that? To be in love? The fact that he was even capable of love at all was a miracle. Ammin couldn’t love anything, couldn’t feel anything, until he met Jess outside of his 9:10 class. Jess was everything his mother wasn’t—faithful, beautiful, honest. He was in love with her, but couldn’t face his fear. Couldn’t face that God could be fair and let people fall in love and be happy. All God has ever done was tease and coax his father into a life of miserable love. He didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to think about the yellow winter, the gray sky, the rolling hills, anything but love.

“Are you okay?”
“What?”
“You haven’t said anything for a few minutes. Have you even heard me asking you if you were alright?”
Ammin looked over at Jess, his eyes afraid of the tears forming, and said, “Jess, there is something I need to tell you.”

Jess looked confused. “I didn’t mean to upset you Ammin, it is a stupid thought to think we can’t be in love forever. It was just a silly question and I feel really bad for bring it up and…”

“Don’t, it’s not…you didn’t say anything wrong. Jess,” Ammin took her hand, “I need to tell you something.”
“You said that already. Now I’m really nervous.”
“I haven’t been honest with you about my parents.” Even though the car was still driving and the engine still running and the wind was still screaming through the fence posts, everything became silent. Jess looked at him confused, not sure if she should be hurt or mad or scared. Her hand became lifeless, her pouty lips became firm, as she braced herself.

“I want you to know that I’m sorry for not telling you all this sooner. I do love you, I’ve loved you since I spoke to you. But I guess I was afraid that you wouldn’t love me back if you knew the family I came from. My parents are not traveling around the world. I just made that up so you wouldn’t try to meet them sooner. I don’t know, I don’t even know where to begin. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

At that Ammin’s eyes couldn’t hold back the growing tears, he let them go. It was the first time he had cried since his mother left. His soul cried. The years of pushing back the memories, the hate, the confusion, the fear, everything was falling through his eyes onto his shirt. His hand squeezed Jess’s as he tried to fight back the tears, but he couldn’t, Ammin wept. Finally, Ammin looked over at Jess, she was crying. She didn’t know why, she wasn’t mad, or even sad yet. She just knew that it was the time for tears, and she cried patiently with Ammin as he slowly calmed his heart and finished his tears.

The car was silent for a while. Ammin was embarrassed. Jess was concerned.

“Jess, my Father is crazy, and my mother is a whore.” Ammin broke the silence.
“What?”
“My older brother and sister tried to check him into a mental hospital when we were teenagers, but they wouldn’t accept him, or he would just check himself out.”
“Oh my God! That’s terrible. What was wrong with him?”
“He hears God.”
“What?”
“He hears God. Like, God tells him to do crazy things and he does them. That’s how I got my name. My name means some lame thing in Hebrew that my Father claims is supposed to be a prophecy for the world.”

Jess did not know what to say. She was shocked. This is not what she was expecting.
“And probably the craziest thing my father did was marry my mother.”
“This is too much. How can your dad marrying your mom be crazy? What is that supposed to make me think about us? I love you and now you’re saying marriage is crazy?”
“No, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the marriage itself was crazy, just that my dad chose her.”
“Why, what was so wrong with your mother?” Jess was beginning to get angry, even though she still wasn’t quite sure why.
“I told you my mother is a whore. I mean, she was a prostitute—an actual prostitute. And my Dad married her because God told him to. I know you probably think I’m crazy and I’m sorry for everything. If you want me to turn around and take you home I will. I’m just so, so, so…ashamed.”

The car became silent again. Jess wasn’t mad anymore, but she couldn’t look at Ammin. She didn’t know what to say, or even if she should say anything. So she just waited, she knew Ammin wasn’t finished yet. After a few minutes of looking at the yellow grass, Ammin continued.

“She never stayed faithful to my dad. I can remember her bringing guys home when I was in kindergarten. She didn’t even care I was there. She did that as long as I can remember, and my dad never did anything about it. He would just treat her as though none of it happened, and just cried whenever she wasn’t around. At first I felt sorry for him, you know, but when it kept happening without him doing anything, my pity ran out. You know, people do have a choice in the matter. He is just so weak. Finally, the day before I graduated high school, my mom ran away, or was bought or started working for this guy, or something, I don’t really know. And after I graduated, I left, and until last week, I hadn’t heard from either of them.”

The sky had turned from a gray to dark orange and red. The clouds and mist diffused the sunset so that only a shadow of sunset broke through. The yellow grass grew darker and the fence posts began to disappear but for the few that reflects back the light of the headlights streaming from the car. The air in the car felt profound. Something had changed, not necessarily for the worst, but everything felt different and new. The engine on the car hummed as it went over hill after hill, and Ammin could feel the warmth in Jess’s hand again. Ammin didn’t feel afraid anymore, if anything, he felt vindicated. Jess was still there and somehow, he knew that there love was deeper now. There was still so much to explain, but at least there’s was a love without secrets. Jess sat waiting through the sunset, sad, but content. She was always a quiet processor. As always, it was Ammin that broke the silence.

“Do you still love me, after all that?”

Jess looked up at Ammin, her eyes wet and warm, her lips filled with red, and said, “I love you more now. I can’t explain it, but I just love you more now.”

Ammin smiled. Jess smiled.

“So why now? Why did they call and why are you taking me home to meet them?”
“My dad bought my mom back. He wanted me to come home and celebrate and when he found out about you, he insisted that you come.”
“What about your mom? Did she want you to come home?”
“She said she was in love…for the first time.”

Jess sat there for a long time, her heart thumping along with Ammin’s like poetry from a book. She reached her hand up Ammin’s arm and pulled her body in close to kiss him on the cheek.

“That’s beautiful, Ammin. Truly beautiful.”

Joys of Marriage: Watching Chick Flicks Alone

Above is ABBA. Thanks to the movie Lauren and I watched last night, I have ABBA painfully stuck in my head. Last night was date night. We made dinner at home then went to get dessert at the Melting Pot. After a week of hard work, we both decided renting a movie would be a great way to wind down, and since I picked the last one, I figured letting Lauren pick a girlier movie was only fair. The movie was Mama Mia, and after dessert we came home and put it on.

Now, Lauren and I are very different in our sleeping habits. I take a while to fall asleep, I don't sleep much, and I wake up easily and quickly. Lauren is the complete opposite. She can fall asleep in the middle of a sentence and take well over an hour to convince out of bed. This goes for movies as well. No matter how good a movie is, Lauren can and probably will fall asleep in it. She's even fallen asleep in a movie theater. I on the other hand, regardless of how tired I am, cannot fall asleep in a movie. This poses a peculiar problem with chick flicks. I knew coming into marriage to expect the unexpected, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised that I end up watching chick flicks alone while Lauren sleeps.

So with that said, I confess that I watched the movie Mama Mia by myself last night. Lauren was in the room, but she didn't make it 15 minutes into the movie. As I recount last night's undermining of manliness, I also realize that I could have turned it off...which certainly doesn't help my case.

But anyways...here's to ABBA, chick flicks, and the joy of my wife curled up next to me asleep on the couch.