happy haiku friday!

i spent the morning

lamenting hypocrisy

while chewing a pen



while we serenade

God's love and Christ's compassion

He responds with rage

undone

yesterday, in the midst of categorizing a stack of books, i stumbled across the reprint edition of the faces of Jesus by frederick buechner. after reading the copy on the front jacket flap i flipped the pages en masse so that i could see if there was an author photo featured on the back.

fortunately there was a photo. upon seeing it i was almost undone. buechner has always been incredibly photogenic, as the covers of his little autobiographies attest, but this photo pierced me so deeply that i almost wept. in this photograph, buechner looks old and bemused. his h-frame mouth is open just enough to offer a sympathetic smile and his eyes bear witness to a lifetime full of tightly clinched, discerning squints that were occasionally overwhelmed by wide-eyed wonder. as i scrutinized uncle freddy’s liver spots and last wisps of hair, i realized how grateful i am that my life has overlapped with this liberal, literary prophet and how utterly afraid i am of the day that he finally departs.

so many of uncle freddy’s words have opened my heart to the Word and his constant reminders to “listen to your life” have helped me salvage a few remnants of sense from this shipwrecked, chaotic world. as odd as it sounds, i hold him as close as i hold family and, as pagan as it sounds, i pray that when he passes God will grant me a portion of his spirit.

is there an author that simultaneously helps hold you together and enables you to hold out hope for the future? if so, i’d love to hear about it.

“look kids! It’s a…it’s a…it’s a rocket ship!”

i haven’t been there yet, but i would still be willing to bet that hell is a lot like bolivar, missouri. it was there, on the unsuspecting stage of baptist bible college, that i revealed my adolescent indulgences to three hundred, hormone-driven teens.

we had been doing hand motions for three days, i was ready to kill one of the other sponsors and was dying for a cigarette. so to say i was sick of c.i.y. was an understatement. on wednesday afternoon, killing time before the alternative alleluia band was supposed to play kevin greer decided to stage a mid-afternoon timewaster. as he began to hand-select the objects of his ridicule from the crowd, i began to feel sick. he was going to pick me. i knew he was going to pick me and all of my self-determined denials wouldn’t do me a damn bit of good. i was right.

as i made my way backstage, barely bottling my rage, the stage manager directed me to a sound-proof green room where i received my assignment. “when you get on stage,” the pimple popping ozark intern told me, “make-believe that you are taking off in a rocket ship.” “is that all you have to tell me,” i asked. “oh yeah, one more thing,” he said, “there’ll be a black chair on stage that you can use however you want.” so there i sat, cursing my fate and awaiting my fifteen seconds. although i couldn’t hear kevin from the green room, i could hear the crowd roaring. in that moment, i knew i was being set up. i was right.

when my moment came, i swept the curtain aside as inconspicuously as possible, tried not to look at the six hundred eager eyes that were staring at me and made my way to the chair. i immediately tipped the chair so that its back was resting on the stage, sat down in the chair so that my back and legs were parallel with the stage, clasped my hands together and put them right below my crotch. then, at the word “go” i trembled violently, made thundering rocket ship noises and rapidly adjusted the imaginary yoke between my legs.

after fifteen seconds of my antics, i was overwhelmed by the roar of the crowd. when i stood up, straightened my shirt and looked in kevin’s eyes, i could see that they were filled with tears. when i looked out at the crowd, i saw my youth minister on his knees laughing. i immediately began to panic.

after i made my way off the stage, flush red in the face, i asked my youth minister what the set up was. he told me in a rushed, hyper-ventilating voice that i was mimicking “what i did in the bathroom.”

that was the last time i waxed my rocket ship in a public setting. and that, my friends, is yet another reason that i am not a youth minister.

amidst the atmospheric “pop”

after diagnosing spiritual schizophrenia
he said

prayer is the prescription
the community provides counseling

why do i feel so fragmented
if i was created to be whole?

amidst the firing synapses
is there room enough for soul?

perhaps this is the result
of exchanging absolutes for ambiguity

and getting a quarter on the dollar

or rather an expression of humility
of contemplation outstripping capability

let us pray for the latter

memorandum from captain random

it's 9:37p.m. i'm drinking my second cup of reheated coffee, seriously considering a glass of wine and committed to defraging my spirit for the next sixty minutes. i thought for some odd reason you might enjoy seeing my blue screen incrementally overtaken by the little white boxes of underdeveloped thoughts.

9:42 p.m. - regardless of how this series unfolds, i am incredibly proud of the way the cardinals have played over the last six weeks. since the all-star break four of our regulars (molina, walker, rolen and sanders) have been injured and they have gone 16-10. i had hoped they could play .525 ball during this stretch, so obviously they have surpassed my expectations. if we can just treat water until mid-september, get molina/walker/sanders (rolen appears to be d-u-n) on track and perhaps get some bullpen smoke out of reyes, we might be able to make a strong run in october.

9:45 p.m. - life lessons i have learned from baseball:

• slow the game down


• play a hard nine


• replicate your mechanics


• candlesticks always make a nice gift

9:54 p.m. - the cardinals are showing some life, mark prior does not appear to be the god i once thought he was and i would like to recommend a superb cardinals blog to you. it's called viva el birdos, which i think is spanish for the cardinals are the shiz-nite, and the author's attention to detail and analysis are excellent. even a summary perusal of the posts will show you why i am not a full-time baseball blogger (i.e., i have neither the time nor the statistical ability to develop such sophisticated proposals).

10:00 p.m. - if the cardinals had as much organizational talent as the cubs and did as little with it, i would be on psychotropics by now. over the past three years i have been constantly mystified by their inability to dominate the central.

10:04 p.m. - that is the nicest thing you will ever hear me say about the cubs. speaking of that glass of wine, i would like to thank alex for providing me with such a generous portion. i wish he was here to enjoy it with me.

10:06 p.m. - several years ago, i thought of myself as mr. social justice. i challenged apparent evangelical indifference towards the urban poor, parroted jim wallis and spent my vacations serving with the l'arche community in downtown toronto. now, although i am actively engaged in social concerns on the local level, i am remarkably ignorant about darfur, the developing famine in niger and a million additional concerns i am unaware of. the upside of my current situation is that i have a number of friends, especially dr. james, rick and craig that are constantly reminding me of these concerns. in this area i set out to be a leader, but am now being led. i think i'm ok with that.

10:16 p.m. - i have been reading moby dick over the past couple of days in an attempt to reintroduce myself to american classics and start preparing for the secondary ed. prep exam that i'll be taking next spring. anyway, i have found melville's sense of humor striking and his religious thought unexpectedly progressive. would you like to hear a few quotes? i thought you might...

• "heaven have mercy on us all - presbyterians and pagans alike - for we are all somehow directly cracked about the head, and sadly need mending" (pg. 90).


• "i know what he is - a good man - not a pious good man, like bildad, but a swearing good man - something like me..." (88-89)


• "if we obey God, we must disobey ourselves, and it is in disobeying ourselves, wherein the hardness of obeying God consists" (48)


• "yes, the world's a ship on its passage out, and not a voyage complete; and the pulpit is its prow" (45. wonderful quote, eh? too bad i don't believe it)
• "better sleep with a sober cannibal than a drunken christian" (26. yeah, it's a bit reductionistic and derivative, but i like it)


• "what of it, if some old hunks of a sea-captain orders me to get a broom and sweep down the decks? what does that indignity amount to, weighed, i mean, in the scales of the new testament?...who ain't a slave? tell me that" (6)

10:32 p.m. - over the past week or so another new character has been given a reoccurring role on the gentry show. his name is ken and he's a twenty year old magician, student and all around nice guy. ken grew up in colorado springs, where he was turned off by megachurches, humored by evangelicals who would approach his mohawked brother in restaurants only to say things like "god is right there in your hands" and briefly employed by focus on the family as an extra in a movie who's plot he described as "non-christian teenage parties are bad, christian teenage parties are good." anyway, for reasons both obvious and unknown, ken is not committed to living in the way of Jesus. however, our conversations this weekend have touched on the church more often than not. why the rambling narrative, you ask, good question...here's the rub. ken is obviously interested in our church or at least continuing to be a part of our community, but i have yet to directly ask him to "come to church." early this afternoon he asked me what time we met (the fact that i spent all day sitting on my ass reading tipped him off to the fact that we didn't read on sunday) and when he stopped by for dinner this evening he asked what a regular service was like, but i still did not invite him.

i've invited him to join us before, but he seemed uninterested. now, i'm going to leave him to his own initiative. i hope this intuitive approach is wise.

10:45 p.m. - so i've broke the sixty minute mark. sue me. you're the one who is bored enough to read this shit. as the allusion in the previous snippet was intended to suggest, i've been reading nick hornby this weekend. if you enjoy his rapacious wit, have been charmed by his humorous, humane novels and/or prefer to read about reading literature rather than actually reading it yourself, you'll love polysyllabic spree.

10:55 p.m. - i think the crumbling discus thrower anti-steroid ads would be much more effective if they provided virile young men with an image of how steroids de-values the family jewels. i don't think that the demise of their calves is going to weigh on the future "physical education" and "recreation science" majors of america. but irreversible shrinkage? that'll keep a few of 'em up late at night.


11:00 p.m. - i just heard that tracy "tickner" monts, one of my favorite people in bible college, and her husband aaron are moving to boston next summer. from what i've heard so far, it appears that they are planning on staying and serving with a new church plant for a defined amount of time. however, i am already hoping that they decide to stay in the area of become a part of our community after their enlistment in the boston project is up. a boy can hope.

11:05 p.m. - this is the sound of me spell-checking. good night!

wearing out the gospel glove

with sweat on his brow and calf-skin bible in hand, the free-will baptist preacher stoked the hell fire that was most assuredly awaitin' us. he needn't have bothered. i was already in the front pew, begging God's forgiveness.

after the youth minister contrasted the conquering King of Glory on the white horse with the dastardly one riding the pale horse, my feet stumbled down the risers and i waded into the sea of recommittals.

following a particularly penetrating sermon on our proclivity towards judgment, i fixed my eyes on the orange carpet and walked forward to confess. i had sinned against my brothers and sisters by what i had said and left unsaid. instead of awaiting the sifting of the white seat of judgment i had seared my community with my white hot sarcasm and condemnation. i hoped that my words laid the foundation for a long labor of love.

i once detested this apparent desire to participate in every experience of conversion ever created and questioned the authenticity of my catalytically converted heart. in the warmest tones, they had told me time and again that the initial immersion was more than enough. others whispered that once i was saved, my ticket was non-refundable. but their affirmations, well-intended though they were, have never squared with my experience of faith. i have always felt that conversion is not so much a punctiliar as it is a progressive experience. i constantly feel the need to "recommit" my life to Christ and if i dwelt in an altar call environment my ass would be quite familiar with the front pew. so strap on the gospel glove and encourage the accompanist to play her favorite conversion tune. this boy is comin' home.

musing

hello world. sorry that i've been on the lam for a bit. i've been listening to your voices and reading a good bit, but i haven't had time to transcribe my thoughts, fears and feelings. i don't have a ton of time today either, since it is 7:43 a.m. and i need to turn my attention to commodifying Christ. but here are a few of my recent thoughts about my reading and this reality that i find so hard to interpret.

i've found another literary mentor. his name is preacher will and he is a subversive southern baptist preacher from mississippi. in his heartrending biography, titled brother to a dragonfly, will recounts the story of his conversion, his calling to the ministry and the significant role that he played in the civil rights movement of the fifties and sixties. however, as significant as these experiences and events were, they pale in comparison to will's commitment to his brother joe. although will has a number of incredible stories to tell, one gets the feeling that these stories wouldn't be worth a damn if he had failed to be faithful to his brother joe. for some reason that fact tore me to pieces. i think there is far too much media focused upon star crossed lovers and not enough focused on strengthening and stretching the ties that bind. brother to a dragonfly is a notable exception. you can count on me is another.

i stumbled across a quote from vanier this morning. it unmasked my delusions of grandeur and called me to the gritty work of faith. i thought you might like to hear it: "a community is only being created when its members accept that they are not going to achieve great things, that they are not going to be heroes, but simply live each day with new hope, like children, in wonderment as the sun rises and thanksgiving as it sets...the beauty of people is in this fidelity to the wonder of each day" (Community and Growth, pg. 109).

i took mark to see ben folds and rufus wainwright in concert on friday night. it was a beautiful evening on the water and ben folds did not disappoint. however, much to my surprise, i found that i am not much of a rufus fan. like i said on jamie's blog i think he intones like randy travis and his diction is deplorable. all things equal, i'd rather see randy travis.

when i was in high school i told one of my history teachers, who turned out to be a dirty pedophile by the way, that "one day he would work for me." that might have been a little arrogant of me, especially since i am now quite interested in pursuing my teaching certification. i think i would like to teach high school english. in my mind, a successful high school english teacher needs to have a love of language, a desire walk with adolescents through the perilous process of identification and a studied disregard of authority and convention. assuming that this is true, i think i would make a decent teach. if all goes well, i will take my qualifying exams in the spring and start classes next summer.

in case you hadn't heard, on sunday david eckstein hit a walk-off grand slam in the ninth inning to propel the cardinals to victory. the last time that happened was on april 18, 1987, when my family decided to beat traffic by leaving the game a little bit early. that was a lesson learned.

happy haiku friday

take these bi-products

and stuff the fucking sausage

grind out redemption

stuff that has been making me laugh:



caption reads: "Does this mean you're not ready to accept Christ as your personal Savior?"

i also received a bulk email from a loyal citizen of ghana who wanted me to "plant small seed" in his country so that i could "reap large fruit." he told me that his mother, his country's prime minister and the wrongfully deposed king would be forever grateful if i worked with him on this initiative. the solicitor's name: johnson asore. i shit you not. he received my name from a local pastor though, so he must be trustworthy.

musing

on wednesday night i had the privilege of attending a wake for leanne's grandmother. as we stood in the spectacularly clean, softly lit viewing room, i was amazed by how many friends and family members had come to pay their respects, say a prayer and speak a kind word to leanne's family. there were so many people there that the funeral directors had removed a divider to accommodate more people. apparently, even that did not provide enough space for the visitors for people were scattered throughout the entire building, laughing and sharing, embracing and consoling one another. i was incredibly moved by the experience, for it was a living illustration of the beauty of a large, loving, deeply committed extended family.

though a bastard, God blessed me with the same type of family. i have had the privilege of being raised not only by my parents, but by two sets of grandparents and three sets of aunts and uncles. moreover, i don't have eight cousins so much as i have eight friends who i grew up fighting with, loving and protecting. i have also been blessed with a number of close family friends who i would not hesitate to lay my life down for and have little doubt that they would do the same for me. have i mentioned that i have a brother who i love so much that it hurts? have i mentioned that i grew up in a church that was full of people that believed in me when i did not believe in myself, loved me when i was by all accounts unlovable and pointed me towards my vocation when i was totally ignorant of God's call?

so on wednesday night, while i stood in that clean room that was lit by the love and warmth of family that I was reminded of the sacrifice that i have made. because the God of blessing has called me to be an instrument of His blessing to all people, i have left the warm, centrifugal center of my family and have been flung out to this far corner of the country to shed God's grace and Christ's compassion upon these people and the world. i am glad that i have responded to God's call, but i am not unaware of the cost.

i am not unaware of the cost. because i have sacrificed so much to be in new england, i better make my life count. initially, this line of reflection led me to focus on the desire to make a name for myself and adorn myself with individual accomplishments. but that is not what God is calling me to. instead, he is calling me to make my life count by being a part of a redemptive community that is incarnating His love and extending his compassion to the people in this particular place. at the end of my life i do not want to be known for something i have accomplished, but i want to be known as a part of the redemptive community that God has created in this place. life does not consist in the abundance of riches, Jesus teaches us, and i don't think life consists of lists of individual accomplishments either. rather, i think life is characterized by the goodness, beauty and truth of God that has been planted within us and the beautiful harvest of the field in which we have been planted.

overheard

“i use these words pretty loosely...
there's so much more to life than words” ~OTR, latter days

“tell mr. man with impossible plans to just leave me alone
in the place where i make no mistakes
in the place where i have what it takes” ~elliott smith, waltz #2

"there are two kinds of people:
sinners who think they are saints
and saints who know they are sinners" ~pascal, pensees

a long overdue confession

dear readers, i must make a confession. i am a calculating, undercover agent of the customer (secret) service. to my co-workers i am simply a comrade in arms, a simple customer service representative who longs to fulfill lifeway's mission of salvation by softcover. however, to my controller, i am a confidant and source of information, a Christ-centered, corporate killer who can scarcely conceal his sinister ambition.

although evidence of my true identity abounds, the lemmings that languish in the cubicles next to me remain quite clueless. thus, they do not know when they are chastised by the controller for excessive chattiness, that i was her primary source of information. further, they are unaware that the reason i am unexpectedly released from monotonous projects is so that i can engage in phone center surveillance and counter-surveillance. finally, when apparently composing salvific spam, my "comrades" do not know that i am encoding messages (often utilizing keywords like pearl, penetrate and purpose) that will reveal their blatant inefficiencies and illegal access of company facilities to my controller.

i am a cube dweller with connections. i am the customer (secret) service. do not fuck with me.

you can't force comedy

somewhere past lost creek, but a bit short of nutter fort, a couple of friends traversed I-79. their caffeine fueled, kerouac infused journey felt less like a relocation than an epic, for somehow, in the midst of this dissonance, dreams that had died bled onto sheets of new desire. as a result, neither new birth nor death seemed remote.

as they passed nutter fort two roads diverged, two pills were offered, two doors stood open. i could clarify the options and speak of conclusions foregone and forgotten, but wonder whether it would matter. the roads diverged and the stories unraveled, producing some episodes that were manic and others that were morose. so the story went and so it goes.

my only hope, indeed my half-hearted prayer, is that the stories unravel to the beat of burroughs and the storyteller is indeed sympathetic.

somewhere between memory and mirage, half-submerged in the stream-of-consciousness

propelled by the current and the contents of our cans we moved forward, but made little progress. for the first half of the trip i had a secure place in the center of the canoe. chris manned the bow, steve manned the keel, i manned the cooler. the early summer heat and our indifferent attitude towards lunch made the day seem more like a mirage than a concrete experience. looking back i remember images, emotions and snippets of conversation, but i have little feel for where the real story ends and personal myth begins. yet, as muddled as it may be, i am compelled to tell the story.

so, as i said, we were moving forward, but making little progress. our stated purpose was not progress but diversion. and diversion we found a plenty. every quarter mile or so we scratched the hull on another makeshift island and crashed a party. though we knew each other as outcasts, we chose not to let the strangers in on such secrets. so when they invited us to share our beer, smoke their weed, sample the texture and taste of their bodies, we did so. some of us more than others. if memory serves, i was one of the former. i think it was for that reason that i lost my privileged place in the boat and was left alone with a life jacket, dependent upon the current to make my way. i was so thankful that my six was buoyant.

at some point near the end of our excursion our case of key vanished. fortunately a couple of beautiful bodies floated by and graciously endowed us with additional supplies. flush with our good fortune we set our sights on the cliffs. once we landed steve and i scrambled up the side with sufficient supplies. our stated plan was to empty our hands before plunging into the waters below. while steve shotgunned i sought an angle that would enable me to douche our dear friend in the canoe below.

somewhere between a piss and my second can, i heard something pull up behind us. expecting more good fortune, of which this day seemed to be full, i turned my head expectantly...and was immediately disappointed. immediately deducing our plan the ranger informed us of impending danger. he then began with the questions. when he asked if i was of age i answered the affirmative. when he asked for evidence i took a draught of courage, shook my head and laughed. the officer asked, indeed he assumed, that i had seen such circumstances before. when i validated his assumption he had to question, "why don't you stop drinking?" i shrugged my shoulders indifferently and countered "why don't they change the law?" he laughed heartily and handed over the ticket almost remorsefully, promising that if i paid the fine the punishment would not have to match the crime.

it was in that moment, between my encounter with the half-hearted ranger and the adrenaline deficient plunge, that something within me clicked. a transition took place and i knew i would never be the same.

so i burned my bridges, abandoned those i had called friends and eventually repented while shanking shots at the driving range. i honestly think that i chose to follow Jesus not so much because of conviction or belief, but simply because the road was different. i figured that the narrow road could not be more meaningless than the broad, so i set out upon it.

that was almost nine years ago. since that time, i've moved forward, but made little progress. my eyes are still open to diversion and that anti-authoritarian son of a bitch that told off the trooper still emerges from time to time. nevertheless i am so thankful that something within me clicked. for as meaningless and random as the journey sometime seems, i think it is more substantial than the one that preceded it. every once in a while, the present moment definitely excluded, life seems less like a mirage and more like a concrete experience. for this i am thankful.

i have a sneaking suspicion that...

somewhere along the road i sacrificed excellence on the altar of mediocrity

there is such a thing as godly ambition, but cooperation still trumps competition

there are some wounds that do not heal

npr is going to drive me fund-drive crazy with non-stop reporting on john roberts. the morning nyt email featured a quote from robert's eighth grade teacher. i only wish i was kidding

bush will spin the rove affair more effectively than clinton spun the blow job

i am being sustained not only by Christ, but by His body

i am going to work at lifeway for longer than i initially intended. so i might as well make the best of it

the pre-publication galley copy of doug pagitt's preaching re-imagined is going to arrive today

that the (very) few of you that are interested in preaching are going to be treated to an interview and short review that will be posted on this site

it is time to open the indulgence box and go to work

memorandum from captain random

here are a few ideas, opinions and impressions that have been ricocheting through my small skull. although i would like to shoot a single, well aimed bullet, today i must rely on the buckshot approach.

when i entered my cube this morning a book was sitting next to my keyboard. the title was conquering insecurity. is some passive aggressive little shit trying to tell me something?

recently devoured: nick hornby's a long way down and j.k. rowling's harry potter and the half-blood prince. one of my goals for this site is to provide 50-100 reviews for every word i read. unfortunately, i don't have time to provide those right now, so i'll have to satisfy for a couple of quick hits. first, i read hornby because he has a deep, abiding interest in the humanity of his characters and he describes the movement from independence to interdependence better than any fiction writer i have read. i am happy to say that in this new novel he does not disappoint. moreover, i read rowling because i enjoy her masterful characterizations, her ability to provoke a sense of wonder and her unexpected plot twists. her latest effort is an excellent illustration of her skill. as a side note, i really enjoyed the conversation i had with art about the new novel. in the midst of our conversation he revealed his rather impressive interpretive skill. thanks brutha! now...the rest of you need to finish the novel so that we can discuss it (via email of course...we wouldn't want to ruin the reading of others).

wendy williams from newton presbyterian called me on monday to connect. wendy is deeply intrigued by the emerging church conversation and is interested in entering into our ongoing conversation. welcome to the conversation wendy! i hope that you feel at home in our little virtual community and will look forward to your thoughts/reflections/opinions. a side note here as well...i have been truly blessed by those i have connected with (including jamie, erik, becky, leanne, wendy, etc.) on account of this blog. i never knew that a medium such as this could be so generative.

one of the things i like best about serving with sinners and saints is that it is an exercise not only in leading, but in being led. currently inquiring minds such as dr. james, craig and fletch are leading me towards a deeper immersion in the discipline of theological discourse. i am glad that my theological inquiry is being compelled by the ongoing development of God's community instead of the demands of academia. this renewed interest has encouraged me to delve into stanley grenz's theology of the community of God, which i hope will ground me in Trinitarian theology and (if warranted) help me move beyond a foundationalist approach and mark noll's the rise of evangelicalism, which i hope will help me understand the way that leaders like edwards and wesley pursued holistic ministry in their particular contexts.

i am kicking around the idea of starting an emergent cohort in our area. the purpose of this group would be to discuss the ways that God is calling us to incarnate His gospel and Christ's compassion in our particular contexts. we would read and discuss pieces by intriguing theologians and practitioners that would help us incarnate the gospel in our area and would fight to move our conversations beyond the level of abstraction. sound interesting? if so, shoot me an email at jeffkelliegentry@yahoo.com. you can find more information about emergent cohorts here. if a number of you are interested we could either join an existing group in boston (which appears inactive) or start a new one.

not that it matters to you

first it was rob neyer, whose columns i read religiously. then it was buster olney, who had me at last night of the yankee dynasty. now espn.com has made peter gammons, the commissioner!, an insider columnist. well fuck this fucking game!

happy haiku friday!

in the warm waters

a tempest begins to spin

the fool ventures in

musing...

last weekend, in an aside unrelated to an ongoing conversation, i told kellie that i had failed a friend.

this friend was a key component of the twenty-something small group i led for several years. she is a beautiful, free-thinking woman who did not hesitate to introduce wiccans to our small community of Christians and taught me, as well as the small circle that reads the boston globe, how to put a human face on homelessness. she has been homeless and has studied at harvard, she has written for spare change (a local newspaper written by the homeless) and spoken at universities throughout the country. she is truly a remarkable woman.

of course, she is also a magnet for trouble and tragedy. after enduring three car wrecks in a sixteen month period, none of which she was liable for, she was diagnosed with brain injury. this degenerative condition rendered her susceptible to seizures and spinal meningitis and made it impossible for her to work. since her home state has very few social services, she found herself living on the streets of boston and constantly navigating the swamps and switchbacks of mass health. did i mention that her family rejected her when she decided b.j.u. (that's bob jones university. stop laughing) wasn't the ideal environment for her education? did i mention that people from her fundamentalist youth constantly call to berate her and draw direct parallels between her refusal to wave the flag of the five fundamentals and her constantly declining health? did i mention that i, one of her last connections to the faith, failed her by scrupulously maintaining my distance lest she inhibit the forward motion of my ministry?

so i guess it is confession time. i failed her because i was afraid. i didn't know how to solve her problems. i couldn't help her navigate a social health system that she knows better than me, i couldn't treat a single one of her ever-increasing number of maladies, i couldn't be bothered by a phone call a day. so i let our connection unravel. and i've felt like shit about it ever since.

after admitting my failure to kellie, i promised myself that i would call her this week. i knew she had been in the hospital for some time and i wanted to check on her health and maybe plan a visit.

she beat me to the punch. yesterday afternoon, i was shaken out of a well-studied stupor by a phone call from my friend. i took the call and was immediately greeted by a twinge of anxiety in her voice. people had been calling her cell phone and asking for me. we didn't know why this was happening, unless....unless it had to do with the t-mobile contract that i co-signed with her almost two years ago. by the way that she recounted the situation, it sounded like the calls were from a collection agency. and so they were.

after calling the agency, and dealing with some customer servant pissant who thought he could push me around, my first thought was, "this figures. if you stand my a magnet like her, the shit is going to hit you as well." fortunately, in that moment, i was reminded of my master's words to not be anxious. furthermore, i began to suspect that walking with my friend through shit like this, instead of keeping my distance lest the smell taint my "ministry," is what following Jesus is all about.

so i've made plans to see her this weekend in order to look through the details of that contract and simply connect. i have this sneaking suspicion that there is a direct, causal correlation between my love for her and my love for God. if i want to move deeper into the latter, i need to walk forward with the former.

post scriptum: friend, if you're reading this, please know that i love you. keep on keepin' on.

overheard…

“jesus was a lover. He had a fire in his eyes that could burn away excuses, cremate your alibis. He had a gaze that would expose to you all the subtle lies, that you soul permits your heart to tell concerning all that it denies…”
~don chaffer, against the windowpane

“those who believe they believe in God but without passion in the heart, without anguish of the mind, without uncertainty, without doubt, and even at times without despair, believe only in the idea of God, and not in God himself.”
~madeleine l’engle as quoted in matthew paul turner’s provocative faith

“solitude is the furnace of transformation.”
~uncle henri, the way of the heart

“i intend to go anywhere, sponsored by anybody, to preach the gospel of Christ, if there are no strings attached to my message. the one badge of christian discipleship is not orthodoxy but love. christians are not limited to any church. the only question is: are you committed to Christ?"
~billy graham, responding to the charges of fundamentalists who charged him with heresy for treating mainline protestant pastors as his brothers and sisters in Christ. i thought about this passage time and again, when i read articles like this
(http://worldnetdaily.com/news/article.asp?ARTICLE_ID=45083)* that condemned billy for treating bill and hillary clinton, at least one of whom is a confessing Christian, with respect. i never thought i would find the position of fundamentalists more acceptable than that of many evangelicals. at least the former drew their lines along doctrinal, instead of political, lines.

“y’all don’t know what it’s like, being male, middle-class and white.”
~ben folds, rockin’ the suburbs

*please excuse the lack of a link. blogger can suck my white ass!

a prayer for sinners and saints

becky tucker, a liturgical poet and alumnus of sinners and saints, penned this remarkable prayer for our little community. since it says things about s & s that i could not say and observes realities that i often cannot see, i thought i would post it for you.

"jeff, i pray immeasurable blessings for you and for the community at sinners and saints as you lead in a journey where the community - the transformation of individuals into a cohesive, interdependent, kingdom residing and kingdom seeking family - replaces self-change as focus.

this is where "recovering evangelical" seem so appropriate. for myself and my community, taking eyes off self and replacing the unspiritual discipline of navel gazing with the spiritual discipline of intentional community is a stretch so painful, i often feel unconfident that it will not break us-or atlest me.

God is active in the entity that sinners and saints has become and, though increasingly cynical about most things, i am hopefully confident that your growth and leadership will be a fruitful seed for a breath-taking work of communal art!!!!"

overheard...

“life isn’t happily ever after and golden sunsets and shit like that. it’s work. the person you love is rarely worthy of how big your love is. because no one is worthy of that and maybe no one deserves the burden of it, either. you’ll be let down. you’ll be disappointed and have your trust broken and have a lot of real sucky days. You lose more than you win. you hate the person you love as much as you love him. but, shit, you roll up your sleeves and work - at everything - because that’s what growing older is.”

~annabeth marcus in dennis lehayne’s mystic river

“we want to make good time, but for us now this is measured with emphasis on good, rather than time. and when you make that shift in emphasis, the whole approach changes.”

~robert pirsig, zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance

“she seems so depressed sometimes by the monotony and boredom of her city life, I thought that maybe in this endless grass and wind she would see a thing that sometimes comes when monotony and boredom are accepted. It’s here, but I have no names for it.”

~robert pirsig, ibid.

“it is infinitely easier to cultivate a congregation that will listen to the Word of God than to cultivate one that will worship God.”
~pastor jack hayford, quoted in christianity today

musing…

“every crutch you use is keeping you from a deeper dependence,” he said. i believe him.

i have a closet full of crutches that keep me from fully depending upon God and entrusting my broken body to the strong, sustaining arms of the other. these crutches promise to help me stand and so sustain my life. however, every time i fall flat on the pavement i realize that their promises are illusory.

so i’m throwing them out. i’m going to cast off my crutches like a paralytic at a tent-revival. i’m going to snap them in half and set them out with the garbage. i’m sure there are crutches hidden in long-forgotten places and i know that every trial i face will tempt me to buy another set, but i can’t allow those facts to distract me from this moment of decision. the hymn is playing friends, and i’m walking forward. damn those crutches to hell…i’m going to lean on the only one that can sustain me. i’m going to depend on the life, grace and mercy that he promises and his people dispense.

amen.

musing...

on sunday evening a friend said something funny. in the midst of a conversation concerning spiritual matters he said, "you sound healthier than i have ever heard you. what strikes me about our conversation is that you did not start by talking about your personal spiritual journey. rather, you started by talking about the health of the church. your heart has been set on fire for the church."

hmm...i wish that his observation was completely true. however, the mere fact that it is partially true, that i am as interested, intrigued and intense about the spiritual well being about our community as i am about my own life, encourages me.

it encourages me. and yet, i cannot help but think about how much further i have to go. if my love for the church eventually outgrows my love for myself (and i desperately hope that it does), i think the consequences will be numerous. here are a few:

i will be more aware of how my words, my often abrasive, sarcastic, penetrating words have the potential to, or in fact do, wound others. case in point: i will not jokingly call james and rhys "fags" when one of my coworkers, who is most likely homosexual, is sitting five feet away.

i will complete those damned "not urgent but important tasks, like finalizing a leadership consulting team for the church and filing those 401c3 papers, that i would rather ignore.

i will do a better job of listening to my wife. the pixie is wise in so many ways (relational, practical, ecclesiological...) that i am not. she has so many wise things to say about the church that i will not hear unless i slow down and listen.

i will spend more time listening to God and would develop a deeper sensitivity to the Spirit. i think they have a few things to say about the church.

i will not judge my brothers and sisters.

i will stay in better touch with and develop personal relationships with the missionaries we support.

i will once again invest myself in theological reflection. i once rejected these labors because i correctly discerned that my motives were narcissistic. now, by God's grace, my motives will be communal.

i will retreat regularly for study, reflection and prayer. i will also create opportunities for others to do the same.

i will follow-up on visitors and find creative ways to encourage the members of our community.

i am sure there are other consequences. by God's grace, i will be surprised by the consequences of my love for the church becoming greater and my love for self becoming less.

if you ever have the time to pray for me, if there is one empty slot on your ever growing list, please pray that my love for the church and her Lord, will increase. may my narcissism decrease and my love for the church increase. perhaps one day my friend's assertion will be found completely true.

overheard…

“in many long hours of prayer in the caves, i realized anew that the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ supercedes all else, allowing us to experience a freedom that is not limited by the borders of a world that is itself in chains. at the same time i recognized that many of the burning theological issues in the church today are neither burning nor theological and that in an age characterized (in some quarters) by confusion, third-rate theatrics, and infidelity, it is not more rhetoric that Jesus demands but personal renewal, fidelity to the gospel and creative conduct. as emile cardinal leger said in his farewell to montreal, “the time for talking is over.”

~brennan manning, reflecting on his time with the “little brothers of Jesus” in the introduction to the importance of being foolish

meet me at "the G spot"

on saturday evening kellie and i, along with our friend erik kerr, made our way down to the emergence gathering on the south shore. as we encircled the city on I-95 we talked about our respective churches, our allusive vocations and other emerging churches we had visited.

during the latter part of our conversation erik mentioned that he had visited an emerging church that once met in warwick, rhode island. he said great things about the congregation and wondered whether their leaders had anything to do with the worship service we were planning to attend. erik said the only funny thing about the church was the name. when i inquired about the name his face broke out into a rather mischievous grin. "it was called the grace spot." "what's so odd about that," i countered. "nothing" he admitted, "except for the fact that their logo was a large circle in which was a upper case, bold font G with the word 'spot' scrawled underneath." at this point the three of us cracked up and kellie mentioned that "only conservative Christians could make such an oversight." to this, erik replied, "early on their attendance was remarkably high."

this morning, while dr. james, rhys and i laughed about the g spot we started rattling off the worst church names we have ever heard. of all of the ones i have run across, the g spot is the worst. the good dr. says that the worst he has ever heard of is the backside redemption church that meets in Maine.

ready to waste time? here is your assignment: let us in on the worst church names you have ever heard. by the end of the afternoon (5 p.m. e.s.t.) we are going to compile an all-time top five list. if anyone unseats the g spot, which is currently slotted at #1, they will receive the coveted "poo dollar."

"that's the way it was, and we liked it!"

two different people have told me this week that i am becoming an old man. since one of these illustrious individuals was my wife, i think there might be some truth to it.

so in honor of my prescient friends, and to blow of a little steam, i would like to share this little list. and to answer your question kid positive, i did shake my fist multiple times while typing this tirade. damn kids!

the world was a better place before:

• blogger mucked up my font size. their "updates" also converted my old school, unimaginative font type. i don't like it!


• major league baseball in florida


• the nhl invaded the confederate states


• cell phones. yes, all of them. no exceptions


• mochachinos, frappachinos and iced blueberry lattes


• reality television. mr. knight, i'm with rick on this one. reality t.v. is irredeemable trash


• simon cowell


• jerry bruckheimer


• nascar in new england


• plastic surgery


• the proliferation of suburban prostitution. girls, put away the skanky eighties skirts, the locust glasses and the baby tees and learn to cover your anorexic little asses


• cowboy troy
• mlb on fox


• wal-mart


• everything was made to break. i should be able to use my space heater or tape player for 24 hours a day for the 12 months it is under warranty. everything (with the possible exception of prophylactics) should be made for continuous use
• gene michael was named g.m. of the yankees


• budweiser ultra
• southwest airlines


• the moral majority, ralph reed and the republican right. the government, my dear friends, won't save you


• the democrats became cowards


• the proliferation of alternate home and road jerseys in the mlb. white at home, grey away. i want the cubs to wear pin stripes at home, the red sox to leave their batting practice jerseys in fort myers and the cardinals baby blues to remain in static display or team photos at the hall of fame


• karl rove
• the wiggles


• s.u.v.s


• robert deniro masqueraded as a comedian. the king of comedy he is not


• lindsay lohan


• i posted this list

dear readers, thank you for wasting precious minutes of your precariously short lives here. i would ask you to refrain from refuting my opinions, but such an assertion would be pointless. that being said, do not expect me to change my opinions. that’s the way it was and i liked it!

"this stage is a confessional, you kneel and then begin. yeah, you cross yourself those three times, and step into this skin." ~bill mallonee, anyside of anywhere

i've been trying to blog less at work. as much as i piss and moan about lifeway, i really love this place. who would want to loose such a golden opportunity to exploit ashley smith, pimp the purpose-driven life and commodify christ?

unfortunately such noble intentions will not keep one from sleep. blogging oftentimes will. so please allow me to piss on my commitment, crack my knuckles and pound the keyboard for a few.

confessions are funny things aren't they? it reminds me of the first time that i entered the confessional at parochial school. after father dan called me by name, reminded me of God's love and asked if there was anything that was keeping me from a full experience of God's love, i responded with a simple question: "is it true that i confess anything, from smoking pot to committing murder, and you can't tell a soul?" when he responded in the affirmative, i immediately confessed: "i was the second gunman on the grassy knoll." this admission didn't please father dan. in fact, i think it might have pissed him off. as i reflect on this incident thirteen years later i am embarassed about my irreverence and comforted by the fact that he couldn't tell.

all cheek aside, i think confession is good for the soul. i don't think you have to enter a penitential phonebooth to confess your brokenness, but you better get it done somehow. confession not only opens the door for forgiveness, it also strengthens our bonds with one another. what is most personal is most universal...indeed.

that's a long introduction to a brief confession. but, anyway, before God, you and servers throughout this great land i would like to confess that:

• i am much more materialistic than i would like to admit. late last week i accidentally emptied our checking account by overpaying our credit card bill by $975. as a result we have been counting pennies like never before and i have been fantasizing about purchases i wouldn't care less about if we had the cash. "DMB has a new album out, you have to get it," my mind insists. but, in more sane moments, i realize that their last two albums have been sub-par and when monied i have ignored the opportunity to purchase. "it's been a long week, you deserve another bottle of castle rock pinot noir," my tongue ecstatically spews. but, in reality i realize that my current desire to drink well and be the second coming of paul giamatti is going to be short lived.
  
• now that i'm ten minutes into this, i don't feel the least bit guilty about typing this at work. the convention demands and receives far too much of my sweet ass time anyway.
• when my friend josh recently reminded me that another member of our seminary squad still disliked me, it didn't bother me one bit. my whole life i have pissed 5-10% of the people in any given community off. my father once told me that sometimes when i say hello to people it sounds like "fuck you" (sorry for the curse mom. dad said it, i merely spelled it). he said this was a "gift," but i am beginning to suspect that he was being sarcastic. anyway...i have finally learned to accept that, for some reason, i am a stench in the nostrils of some people. i am finally ok with that. i am not and never will be a people pleaser. i cannot make everyone happy. i will do my best to love, serve and listen to others, but i will not try to untangle or reshape their interpretations of me.
• i ate a brown bear burger the other day. from what I heard, the bear who graciously provided our lunch was little more than a cub that just happened to be an inch over the required height limit. he tasted good. the rabbit breast, on the other hand, was filthy. there’s nothing like picking hair out of your cut of meat.
• i want to run a marathon someday and maybe write a book. but that's a secret, so don't tell.
• once, while working at orange julius, i blended a live cockroach into a customer's beverage. he was a hard-up twenty-something who was trying to seduce teenage girls at the mall. i offered him the drink free of charge and do not regret what i did.
• i would rather be ecstatic or depressed than anesthetized. yet my current emotional state could easily be characterized as the latter.
• i am the most unimaginative internet surfer ever. i visit about fifteen blogs a couple of times a day, hit cnn.com and pour over the articles at espn.com. nothing less, nothing more. exotic
  

i am beginning to think that the commonality of our sins leads to rather banal confessions. ladies and gentlemen of the jury, “exhibit A."

mid-morning time waster: (re) name that book

yesterday, lifeway was excited to receive our first shipment of james rutz's (rhymes with klutz) new book. however, since, as dr. kuzmic so cleverly noted, "mega shift" sounds far too similar to mega shit we have decided to (re) name the book in order to make it a little more family friendly.

feel free to submit a new name for this exciting new volume! lifeway's distinguished panel of judges will select one new name by the end of the business day and will award the winner with a limited edition poo dollar.



please note: this feature is produced in accompaniment with dr. james enterprises. all rights reserved.

hello jed. i'm sorry that it's been a while since i touched base. the more comfortable i get with people, the quieter i become. so consider my silence the sign and seal of our friendship.

i have been reading a number of intriguing books lately, including d.a. carson's becoming conversant with the emerging church, harry potter and the sorcerer's stone (for your information, i have not paired such fantasy reading with pewter figurines and role playing games. smart ass) and walter wangerin's book of sorrows. however, most of my reading time has been devoted to jean vanier's community and growth. but you probably already knew this.

anyway, as i was sitting on the beverly common on monday afternoon i stumbled across the following passage...

"tiny children live by love and presence - the time of childhood is a time of trust. adolescents live by generosity, utopian ideals and hope. adults become realistic, commit themselves and assume responsibilities; this is the time of fidelity. finally, old people refind the time of confidence which is also wisdom."

this is the time of fidelity. jed, i'm going to be honest with you, i've been mourning the death of ideals and dreams as of late. some of my dreams, such as the quest for theological certainty and my desire to play varsity baseball, died years ago, but their reverberations continue to pulsate through my chest. others, such as my desire for a meaningful occupation, are shriveling with each additional keystroke. i often find myself sentimentalizing the past, applying my twenty-twenty hindsight to past failure, longing to relive certain parts of my ever expanding life once again.

but i can't. those days are dead now and every 6 a.m. resurrection pushes me out into the present. so as utopian dreams drift away like dear brigadoon i am left only with an unfinished master's degree, a tedious life in a cube, the small band of unbelieving believers who consider me one of their own, a wife that is constructed of things eternal, and the poems, prose and apocalypses that serve as a guide to reality.

jed, i could spend all day flagellating myself with questions concerning my attempted entry into the citadel, why i sacrificed the experience of redemptive community on the altar of theological abstractions or whether i could have learned to "slow down the game" and utilize this slingshot God gave me. but such questions disassociate me from the present and lead me out of the moment.

the moment in which i am called to be faithful to my wife, responsible for this small band of unbelieving believers and a competent commodifier of our lord and savior jesus christ. you went too early jed, but at least you got to take your ideals and dreams with you. keeping your feet moving once those have dissolved is a bitch.

anyway, john tetzel just shot me a nasty look, so i better get back to work. as he and the upper management of lifeway are always reminding me, "every time a coin in the coffer rings, the soul from southern baptist purgatory springs." the time of fidelity. glamorous.

happy haiku friday!

solidarity

servants of monotony

solidarity

overheard...

"i beseech you from the bowels of Christ to consider that you may be mistaken." ~oliver cromwell as quoted in robert ludlum's the janson directive

"the pains of community are situated between the joy of this communion and friendship with Jesus and the joy of giving life to others: the mission." ~vanier, community and growth, pg. 84

"mission is revealing to others their fundamental beauty, value and importance in the universe, their capacity to love, to grow and to do beautiful things and to meet God. Mission is transmitting to people a new inner freedom and hope; it is taking away from their shoulders the terrible yoke of fear and guilt. to give life to people is to reveal to them that they are loved just as they are by God..." ibid, pg. 86.

"we did it. he did. i did. we rose to the challenge working together, and the fact that it required all of me, that i was in it with my family and for my family, that i was surrounded by wild, shimmering beauty and it was, well, kind of dangerous made the time...transcendent. i was no longer stasi. i was sacagawea, indian princess of the west, a valiant and strong woman."
~sacagawea, from harried housewife to holy warrior: my personal epic, pg. 3.

overheard...

saint therese's prayer for "Christian singles"

"we who are not committed to you, Jesus, in either a consecrated celibacy or marriage, we who are not committed to our brothers in a community, are coming to renew our covenant with you.

we are still on the road to which you have called us, but whose name you haven't given us; we are carrying the poverty of not knowing where you are leading us.

on this road, there is the pain of not being chosen, not being loved, not being waited for, not being touched. there is the pain of not choosing, not loving, not waiting, not touching. we don't belong. our house is not a home; we have nowhere to lay our head.

even though we have become impatient and depressed when faced with the choices of others, unhappy when faced with their efficiency, we still say 'yes' to our road. we believe that it is the road of our fecundity (def: a word that suggests our potential for growth and fruitfulness. it speaks of our capacity to give life), the road we must take to grow in you.

because our hearts are poor and empty, they are available. we make them a place of welcome for our brothers. because our hearts are poor and empty, they are wounded. we let the cry of our thirst rise to you.

and we thank you, Lord, for the road of fecundity you have chosen for us."
~quoted in vanier's community and growth on page 68

"to accept being rooted in a community is more or less preceded by a recognition that you are already 'at home,' that you are a part of its body. it is rather similar to marriage; couples recognize that something has been born between them and that they are made ready for each other. it is only then that they are ready to commit themselves to marriage and remain faithful to each other.

so in community everything starts with this recognition of being in communion with one another; we are made to be together. you wake up one morning knowing that the bonds have been woven; and then you make the active decision to commit yourself and promise faithfulness, which the community must confirm." ~ibid, 69.

concerning young people who ignore God's call on their lives: "these people do not believe enough in either themselves or the call; they do not know that there is a spring in them waiting to be freed to irrigate our parched world. so many young people do not know the beauty of life that is in them and which can grow." ~ibid, 73.

friday afternoon time wasters...

after unbearably long delay, from pla ya 2 pra ya finally arrived at lifeway's distribution center!

however, in their haste to ship this fine product the publisher failed to provide a full and adequate description. if you are a former pla ya who by god's grace has been turned in2 a pra ya, please hook up your favorite christian store with a fine lookin' description. come on, y'all, use those mad keyboard skillz in the service of our lord jesus christ!

et tu? brute?

so there i am, enjoying a relaxing evening with the pixie. run completed, a soft rain falling outside, relatively subdued bitch at my feet and academy award winner in the dvd player. then, right in the midst of my middle class bliss, my ass explodes.

she food poisoned me. photographic evidence to follow...

musing...

"our world has more and more need of 'intermediate communities -- places where young people can stay and find certain inner freedom before they make their (vocational) decision" (vanier, community and growth, pg. 61-62).

"it is in these intermediate communities where they find also meaningful work, that they will be able to shed some of the fears that weigh them down and prevent them from discovering their deep selves. it is only when they discover that they are loved by God and by others, and that they can do beautiful things for others, that they begin to get in touch with what is deepest in them" (ibid, 62).

"for a community to play this 'intermediate' role, it must have a core of people who are really rooted there" (ibid).

while talking with jon wise yesterday i made a comment about our community's upcoming conversion to sinners and saints 3.0. although our church is only two and a half years old, we have already had two distinct groups of people who have journeyed with us, moved on to other locales (where a number of them have done spectacular Kingdom work) and have been quickly replaced. with the kuzmic's dispersion on the immediate horizon and the blessed introduction of the townsends and leanne to our community, we find ourselves in the midst of transition yet again.

however, this time i do not feel the need to brace for the change nor am i dreading this upcoming conversion. although i am not looking forward to sending the kuzmic's (and with them our entire "children's ministry") out to southern california, i am beginning to realize that this is the nature of our community. at this point in our development sinners and saints attracts primarily young adults who are in the process of discovering who they are, being equipped for the work they are being called to do and orienting themselves to God's vocational call upon their lives. as a community we can either bemoan the loss and regular transition that characterizes our ministry or we can welcome the wayfarers that the Spirit leads to our door; provide a warm, yet challenging environment in which they can continue to become the people God has called them to be; and, eventually, send them out to be incarnations of the gospel and Christ's compassion to the ends of the earth.

sinners and saints is undoubtedly one of the intermediate communities that vanier is talking about. i pray that we will effectively discern the nature of our community, continue to develop and deepen our core of people who are committed to this work and effectively fulfill our little role in God's gracious and ever expanding Kingdom.

brushback pitches

last night, while watching the cardinals pick apart the red sox one single at a time, a few semi-coherent baseball thoughts flitted through my mind. since such thoughts issued forth from a quarter of a bottle of wine fog i planned to keep them to myself, but, since michael of tennessee asked for it, here they are.

• after the cardinals game i flipped over to the dodgers/tigers game and was caught off guard by the quality of vin scully's commentary. vin has been with the dodgers since brooklyn, understands the visible nuances of the game like few others and, since he calls the game by himself, avoids the mind numbing banter that characterizes most broadcasting pairs. is there any reason, other than possible age discrimination, that fox chose mccarver/buck to anchor their national broadcasts? is there a more competent broadcaster in the game than scully? can we convince congress to provide an exception to the cloning legislation so that we can produce about 29 replicas of scully? i need answers...


• to those few thousand, probably imported, idiots who booed renteria at the start of the cardinals game last night: piss off. if we had overpaid renteria we would likely be without the mulder/grudzilanek/eckstein trifecta that has paid such great dividends. show the man some frickin' respect.


• to pastor rick: they are still not as good as they seem, but they are getting stronger. if hampton's injury persists and the marlins continue to struggle we may be able to hoist another banner at busch.


• i'm not the prophet, nor the son of a prophet, but i will make this prediction. suppan will get shellacked tonight and carpenter will win the rubber game on wednesday.


• that last part reminds me of my favorite topps trivia question ever: "How long is the pitcher's rubber? 24 inches." from what i heard, the writer of that question was immediately fired by topps. however, he eventually righted himself by penning a certain, highly acclaimed screen play for paul thomas anderson.


• although i hate to admit it, derek lee deserves to start the all-star game at 1st base. pujols will get the votes, but lee deserves the start. how's that for (painful) objectivity?


• did the last minute, pre-draft signings of weaver and drew signal the beginning of the end for boras? i sure hope so.


• looks like i was wrong about the As and the White Sox. sue me.


• concerning the DL....so sorry to hear about b. roberts and c. barmes and still savoring the announcements about prior and j. gonzalez.


• last night the red sox announcers were whining about the unfair advantage national league teams have when playing interleague games in their own park. save it. the american league and players association can celebrate the lady's aide all they want, but the senior league will continue to eschew it.


• does anyone care that a-rod is utilizing psychotherapy to help him come to grips with his latent homosexuality? i didn't think so.


• funniest announcer bio i've heard thus far: last night scully mentioned that j. bonderman was a member of 4-H during childhood. i wonder if bonderman's widely reported illiteracy reflects poorly on the organization.

okay, i feel kind of bad about the last comment, but probably not bad enough to delete it. perhaps pangs of conscience will strike later. it's not as heartless as my plans for u.s. population reduction or anything...

as always, i welcome your thoughts and opinions. mike of tennessee, i hope this makes you happy.

overheard: excerpts from jean vanier's community and growth

• "envy is one of the plagues that destroys community. it comes from people’s ignorance of, or lack of belief in, their own gifts. if we were confident in our own gift, we would not envy that of others."


• "a community is only truly a body when the majority of its members is making the transition from 'the community for myself' to 'myself for the community,' when each person's heart is opening to all the others, without any exception. this is the movement from egotism to love, from death to resurrection; it is the Easter, a passage, a passover of the Lord. it is also the passing from a land of slavery to a promised land, the land of inner freedom."


• "to love, we must die continually to our own ideas, our own susceptibilities and our own comfort. the path of love is woven of sacrifice."


• a community is not simply a group of people who live together and love each other. it is a place of resurrection, a current of life: one heart, one soul, one spirit."

overheard

"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions."

~Rainer Maria Rilke

reasons I am not a youth minister

this morning I spent a few moments over at becky.bear’s blog. becky was one of the early members of s & s. she recently moved onto seattle, where she is pursuing yet another master’s degree, creating a micro art collaborative and creating Christian community among seattle’s sonic youth. i love to taunt becky about her sixteen inch shoes and rockabilly style, but i have only the deepest respect for her character, ability and heart for God. anyway, while i was reading about her attempts to create a vbs according to brian mclaren, i began to think about why i am not a youth minister. as you might have guessed, this is a long way of introducing yet another list.

reasons i am not a youth minister:

thou shalt not give teenagers swirlys. from what i hear that is one of the first commandments in the youth ministry book. yet, i confess, i have broken it.

thou shalt not put “tweens” in the trunk of a car. yet another commandment that yours truly has shattered.

thou shalt not openly laugh at other youth minister’s admonitions. yet this is how i responded when another youth minister told my kids to trash their secular cds.

thou shalt care if the bean dip shows up at the pool party. but i never gave a shit.

thou shalt not encourage tweens to throw stones at one another. yet i have and do. in fact, one of my afterschool kids received a battle scar yesterday afternoon.

thou shalt utilize a number of non-competitive games. i have blatant disregard for this rule and am more than willing to go “Billy” on a child when you put a four square ball in my hand.

thou shalt do stupid, idiotic tricks for missions' money. so i was never willing to stick my head in a toilet, drink regurgitated soda or finger paint with my own feces in order to send more Bibles to Cambodia…shoot me.

thou shalt utilize hand motions while singing worship songs. i only know one hand motion and most people don’t consider it appropriate for worship.

thou shalt not smoke, drink or openly attend and celebrate Kevin smith movies. guilty, guilty, guilty.

thou shalt not react in a violent way when a teen strikes you in the face. um, i’m pleading the fifth on this one.

thou shalt not tear up jesus tees and use them to wash one’s toilet. yet they had to be put to some use.

thou shalt not "hook up" with one of thy youth sponsors. um, yeah. i had to find some way to encourage her to volunteer. at least i never contemplated connecting with one of the kids.

thus ends today’s edition of uncalled for confessions. if you want to read about a real youth minister in action, check out becky’s blog.

musing...

okay, now that I’ve pissed and moaned a bit too much about work, it’s time to return to my previous question. how does one pursue authentic spirituality? before I say anything more, allow me to confess that the whole time i’ve been writing this, david dark has been haunting my head and reminding me that every time I talk about stuff like God, confession and spirituality i don’t know exactly what i’m talking about. so, rest assured that i offer this with more than a little bit of fear and trembling.

first off, let me confess my ambivalence towards the term authentic. this therapeutic term has been utilized to such a great degree by the church growth movement and mass marketers (yes…sometimes I also wonder if there is a difference) that i question its usefulness. usually when people speak about being “authentic,” they are referring to their desire to share their unguarded thoughts, feelings and emotions with the other. instead of talking about “authentic” spirituality i would be much more willing to talk about “honest” spirituality. when i hear the term authentic i envision people sharing their thoughts and emotions in service of an agenda (such as evangelism or the new cell phone plan they are marketing), but when i hear the term honest, i envision people who are willing to share their most deeply held beliefs without discounting their most deeply held doubts. so let’s exchange the warm and fuzzy therapeutic term for a term that, has some sharper edges and carries a heavier weight of meaning.

second, since i am a Christian, when i talk about spirituality, i am restricting my thoughts to Christian spirituality. this does not mean that other spiritualities are without merit, but simply that i am speaking of that which I know (in part). namely, the spirituality which finds its roots in the Jewish and Christian scriptures, is self-consciously shaped by the life, death and resurrection of Christ, is constantly nourished by stories of the spiritual mothers and fathers who added their verse to the epic story of church history and works itself out within the context of Christian community.

now that the preliminaries are out of the way, i would like to share a few, admittedly provisional, thoughts. for Christians i think a better way to frame this discussion would be to talk about confessional spirituality. by using the term “confessional” i intend to convey two different, yet complimentary things.

one, i am using the term confessional to suggest that as we pursue God along this narrow road of faith that Christ has set for us, we should seek to do so humbly by admitting our manifold failures and fuckups, and generously, by listening to those who are upon other paths and those who walk the same path at a different pace and/or in a different way. my hunch is that all of us, from jean vanier and Eugene Peterson to the freshest convert and most naïve seeker have much more in common with the kindergartener who is “following the leader” than an expert who can hold court on how to follow Christ. as we walk upon this road let us be encouraged by one another’s confession that we don’t know the way we are going nor how we are going to get there. for it is this kind of humble confession that provides solace to our lack of certainty and compels us to put our faith in and follow the leader.

two, i am using the term confessional to suggest that confessional spirituality treasures the historic confessions of the scriptures, such as the Shema in Deut. 6:1-4 and Matt. 16:13, as well as the classic confessions of the Christian faith. I once heard andy crouch, creator of re:generation journal and current columnist for Christiannity Today, define orthodoxy as “being able to say the apostle’s creed without having your fingers crossed behind your back.” i really like that definition. i would also like to add that using the apostle’s or Nicene creed as a basis of confession does not require either that we understand the undulating depths of each doctrine or that we have begun to grasp the height and depth, length and width of the love of God. rather, the confessions simply give us a historically sound precipice off of which we can dive into the life of faith.

okay, that’s enough for now. i would like to nuance my explanation of confession a bit and say what I mean about spirituality, but i (a) doubt my ability to do so and (b) have to get back to work. of course, if you would like to question anything i have said, add further reflections or put forth your own ideas, please feel free to do so. as i’ve said before, all of us are smarter than any of us. i’d love to hear from you.

post scriptum--i haven't had a ton of time to edit this. so i would like to ask the grammar queers for clemency.

talk about a devolution…

my attitude towards work has devolved a bit. although a few weeks ago i was fairly content with my job, i am now tempted to stand on top of my desk, pull the “f*ck you, f*ck you, you’re cool, f*ck you, I’m out” scene out of my ass and collect unemployment.

my therapist said that jotting down a list of reasons to remain at lifeway would be beneficial. so, here are my reasons (in no specific order):

i should remain in my position at lifeway because:

1. that long awaited bruce wilkinson interview is always just over the horizon.

2. the employee appreciation gifts are priceless (the “magic” jar opener, family umbrella and TogetherEveryoneAccomplishesMore chocolate bar were particularly precious).

3. i've heard that other offices frown on intermittent profanity.

4. i love the 3 unpaid saturdays that i work every year!

5. i could not live without my lifesize cardboard likeness of dr. dobson (and the twinges of lust the aforementioned likeness produces).

6. i would miss conversing with our insightful, discerning shoppers every christmas season (e-i-e-i-fucking-o!).

7. from all appearances the receptionist really, really likes me.

8. i do not want a drunken monkey to replace me.

9. i do not value original thought.

10. i would miss the provocative questions that characterize our monthly meetings.

11. lobotomies are covered in the employee health plan.

12. wal-mart won’t hire me and orange julius won’t let me return.

phew, i feel better. perhaps a little break from my meaningless work was all that i needed!

musing…

for a number of years i believed that substantial training must precede one’s immersion in Christian mission. for this reason, i tried to provide the students and young adults in the ministries that i led with the opportunity to develop the interpretive skills and spiritual disciplines they would need in order to fully participate in the church’s mission of embodied proclamation and compassion. recently a number of things, including the visit of a Haitian missionary to s & s as well as deeper reflection on previous ministry experience, has led me to believe that my assumption (which I think is shared by most Christian education programs and, to a lesser extent, christian institutions of “higher learning”) was at least partially incorrect (if not woefully inept). i am now beginning to realize that the skills and disciplines i sought to teach are more likely to develop in the midst of mission than they are to precede mission. it is the mission of God, not the desire for abstract knowledge or the need to complete a checklist of required qualifications, that compels us to seek His presence through prayer and learn to listen more effectively to His Word. i realize this stuff is probably old hat to many of you, but it has been difficult for me to grasp.

moving forward…

on sunday, june 5 I will be participating in a panel discussion at The Gathering in Salem. the topic for the evening is “pursuing authentic spirituality.” since i am a big believer that “all of us is smarter than any of us,” and somewhat desperate for talking points, i would like to hear what you have to say about this matter. how would you define “authentic spirituality?” what are some of the characteristics of authentic spirituality? how can we contrast “authentic spirituality” with inauthentic and/or hypocritical religious practice? do you question the value of the term authentic in regards to the practice of spirituality? are there any examples of authentic spirituality (i.e., books, music, movies, mentors) that you find particularly intriguing?

if you have any thoughts on this matter, please feel free to post in my comments or email me directly at jeffkelliegentry@yahoo.com. i already have thought through this matter a bit, so i am not completely void of talking points, but i would really like to hear what you have to say. i would love to hear the perspectives of those who do not profess Christ and would be encouraged to hear from lurkers as well. thanks for your help!

happy haiku friday!

circle 'round kiddos

learn how to market our Lord

watch out for the whip

memorandum from captain random

• in the midst of our afternoon walk, dizzy shit in front of her favorite convent. i was not surprised to find foreign objects in her excrement. foreign objects that i have found thus far: pieces of electrical cord, splinters of wood, remnants of my 180 earmuffs, fragments of richard russo's nobody's fool, and tassels from the red and black blanket that becky made us. of all the foreign objects, the tassels are my favorite, since they tend to suspend pieces of her shit and that makes for quite a show.


• kellie and i watched eternal sunshine of the spotless mind again on sunday night. the more i watch and reflect on this film, the more i appreciate it. i love how the story is able to raise metaphysical questions (i.e., the possibility of determinism, the possibility of providence) without ignoring the blundering beauty of the humanity (note the themes of forgiveness, self-awareness and reconciliation). if our preaching, teaching and creating could evidence such a skillful balance of "vertical" and "horizontal" issues, our communities would undoubtedly benefit.


• i decided to surprise a friend by buying two tickets to the upcoming folds/wainright tour for his birthday. the tickets set me back $95. i thought the tickets were a bit overpriced at $35, but it was ticketmasters' $8.50 surcharge per seat that really pissed me off. if folds doesn't score the second, substantially longer set, i am going to bolt. mark, you know i love you if i am willing not only to deal with rufus and his puffy shirt wearing, poof ass, but also pay for the tickets.


• warning: the cardinals are not as spectacular as they appear. their pitching has been mediocre and will have to improve if they are going to make a run in october.


• in better news, gordon edes of the globe reported that the cubs are seriously considering firing dusty baker and replacing him with grady little. this cardinal fan is praying that this will indeed happen and is going to bed with dreams of brock for broglio dancing in his head.


• from the wtf files: after listening to the order of the phoenix on audiobook and reading the first half of the goblet of fire i have become a harry potter fan. i will undoubtedly buy the next book and cannot wait for the movie version of goblet.


• i read an article by john macarthur on crosswalk.com yesterday that sent me up the wall. i was simply shocked by how much my understanding of salvation and judgment differ from his. if you want to read the article, and try to figure out which parts pissed me off, you can find it here.

musing...

early sunday morning we filled our cylinders with coffee and slowly made our way to the beach. on the way she spoke of her divorce, emphasizing both the causes and consequences in manner that was both concise and heartfelt. after listening to her story for twenty minutes or so i felt compelled to play the pastor by offering advice, suggesting a solution or pointing out the first rays of resolution. fortunately, i resisted the compulsion. instead, i simply noted that it seems to me learning to suffer well is the mark of maturity.

sunday evening, while lazily watching television with the pixie, i walked through the conversation once again. as the frames flew through my mind i thanked God for enabling me to resist my compulsion and openly wondered whether my description of maturity was too simplistic. after thinking about it a bit, i think the latter is true. maturity, it seems to me, is not only marked by the ability to suffer, but is also marked by the ability to appreciate the humor of our upended expectations as well as the ability to snatch a thread of hope out of the hands of despair.

thinking back to the setting of our conversation i was reminded of a scene in the wizard's tide by uncle freddy. near the end of the novel, the little boy, who serves as the protagonist, and his grandmother are walking along the long island shore. the boy is overwhelmed by the destructive capability of the ocean, its ability to swallow you whole, produce tidal waves that destroy homes and, in an instant, sink ships. while not ignoring the truth of the boy's thoughts the grandmother tells him that waves of life, terrible and turbulent as they may be, are carrying us towards the shore. surely it takes great faith to believe that the waves of pain and suffering, as well as the more welcome waves of joy and the spray of silliness, are carrying us towards the far shore. but that is the kind of faith i strive for. i hope and pray it is the kind of faith you are striving for as well.