this, that and the other
this looks like one hell of a read.
that is reason #3,612 that i am no longer affiliated with the southern baptist convention.
the other makes me as happy as a puppy with two peters.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
this is the church, this is the steeple...
for years my spiritual director has encouraged me to "study and experience the church at large and bring what you learn home." i've always been obedient to the first half of that exhortation by investing myself in ecumenical community, exploring the franciscan tradition and dabbling in episcopalianism, but i've often found the second half quite difficult since i've long suspected that i'm more of a third order franciscan or conservative anglican than i am a christian church preacher.
i suppose that some background here would be helpful. my ecclesiological home is the independent christian churches, churches of christ. i was raised in a Christian Church, baptized in a Christian Church by my Pa Pa who served as recognized elder for twenty years and still fulfills the role of elder in my home congregational, i attended a Christian Church Bible college - where my spiritual director continues to teach, and i have served in several Christian church congregations throughout the midwest and new england. for those of you who don't know (and i'm assuming that's a majority), the Christian Church is a tradition that grew out of the revivals (esp. the cane ridge revival) that fueled the second great awakening and was shaped by the leadership of thomas and alexander campbell (who reacted to their presbyterian backgrounds by embracing arminian theology and propagating an ecclesiology that was shaped as much by american individualism and democracy as it was by biblical precedent) and barton warren stone (who by most accounts was a hell of a preacher and a horrible theologian). our tradition is known for point blank primitivism (which means we're one of many groups who thinks we can restore the apostolic church), constructing a hermeneutic out of pithy sayings (including: "where the Bible speaks, we speak, and where the Bible is silent, we are silent;" "we are not the only Christians, but Christians only;" "in essentials unity, in non-essentials liberty, in all things love;" and "pimpin' ain't easy, but it's necessary") and a deep, abiding desire for church unity as it is expressed in John 17 where Jesus asks God to enable the church to "be one, even as we are one."
i have to be honest with you here, i've never felt a particularly deep connection to our tradition (which, defying our desire for unity has split into three distinct branches, including: the disciples of Christ (liberals!), the independent Christian churches, churches of Christ (lukewarm accommodators) and the Church of Christ, non-instrumental (fundies) ) but i my deep respect for my home congregation as well as the indispensable relationships i've built with people in "the restoration movement" (yet another one of our handles) has effectively constrained me from altering my affiliation. i suppose i should also note that the powers that be within my tradition have not always approved of me, since i am more calvinist than arminian, completely open to liturgical traditions and once had a tendency to wear shirts that read "stone sucks and campbell blows" and "ask me about the movement." the fact that the powers that be have often treated me a little like a loose cannon and have occasionally limited my ability to lead has really pissed me off on occasion, but, in all fairness, i've never been much of a "movement" man myself. i've never ducked my tradition or denied my affiliation, but i've never sought to distinguish our traditions contribution to the american church or sought to serve exclusively with our churches either.
"so what's the point of this?," you ask. good question. the point is simply this: for the past year or so i've really been interested in honoring the investment that churches and individuals within "the Christian church" have made in me by intentionally connecting with churches and individuals that share my theological background and, perhaps, even investing in our tradition's expressions of Christian mission. since i started seeking such connections, i've been surprised by the number of Christian church (i'm thinking here of the boston partnership, josh jackaway, aaron monts and the whole crew at his blog as well as many others who shall remain nameless) and church of Christ non-instrumental folk (including steve and chrissy) that i have been able to meet with and dream about serving beside. moreover, as i read about other organic expressions of our tradition, such as apex and the home churches featured in this intriguing article, i am beginning to suspect that these little communities might just be a wonderful incarnation of Christ's call to unity and hope that our tradition still has something unique to contribute to the catholic church.
"study and experience the church at large and bring what you learn home." these were wise words indeed. i am thankful for the new horizons of experience that l'arche, the emergent conversation and many, many personal relationships have provided, but, at the same time, i am still committed to honoring and investing (if not technically serving) in my ecclesiological tradition.
how has your journey influenced your relationship with your ecclesiological tradition? i'd love to hear your stories and any additional thoughts that this post might provoke.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
overheard...
"no longer is the church solely in the business of saving individual souls from damnation, but it embodies the 'great event' of the cross by making free space for redemptive community" (charles marsh, the beloved community, pg. 45).
this evening, as i sat with my feet on the windowsill, i was completely arrested by this quote. i think this movement from the "business" of proclamation to the "embodiment" of the gospel that energized the black churches during the struggle for civil rights is also the movement of the Spirit that will truly mobilize the emergent church for mission. together, let us ask God to make this particular movement a primary characteristic of the emerging church.*
*i intend the latter term to be interpreted in the broadest manner possible.
"no longer is the church solely in the business of saving individual souls from damnation, but it embodies the 'great event' of the cross by making free space for redemptive community" (charles marsh, the beloved community, pg. 45).
this evening, as i sat with my feet on the windowsill, i was completely arrested by this quote. i think this movement from the "business" of proclamation to the "embodiment" of the gospel that energized the black churches during the struggle for civil rights is also the movement of the Spirit that will truly mobilize the emergent church for mission. together, let us ask God to make this particular movement a primary characteristic of the emerging church.*
*i intend the latter term to be interpreted in the broadest manner possible.
for the record…
the musings sidebar has been cleansed of lazy ass bloggers. now on, blogs that are inactive for more than sixty days will be deleted.
i would also like to welcome the mill street community blog to the fold. the mill street crew is a liturgical, intentional community that is rooting itself in the gloucester crossing neighborhood of beverly. i think you’ll enjoy hearing the collective musings and stories of this community.
snoogans.
the musings sidebar has been cleansed of lazy ass bloggers. now on, blogs that are inactive for more than sixty days will be deleted.
i would also like to welcome the mill street community blog to the fold. the mill street crew is a liturgical, intentional community that is rooting itself in the gloucester crossing neighborhood of beverly. i think you’ll enjoy hearing the collective musings and stories of this community.
snoogans.
a recommendation, invitation and quotation
while stumbling about the new book area at the beverly library this saturday i stumbled across killing yourself to live by chuck klosterman (which i loved. i am beginning to think that klosterman is the new and improved, non-fiction version of douglas coupland, whose jpod, i can review with a single word: ehh…>) and the beloved community: how faith shapes social justice, from the civil rights movement to today by charles marsh.
although i have only completed the introduction of the latter work, i can already tell that it is going to be a book that i will love. within the first five pages marsh asserts that his book “seeks to reinvest the civil rights movement of its deep soul be interpreting the civil rights movement as a theological drama.” as marsh unfolds the stories of the leaders of the civil rights movement and explains how their individual stories converge with the arc of God’s great redemptive narrative, i suspect that i might learn something about how my story can be completely superseded by, yet play a significant part in, the divine drama. i would love for someone to read this book with me so that we can engage in meaningful conversation about it.
here are a couple of quotes from the first chapter that i found particularly interesting:
“american Christians can blame secularists for many things but surely not for the trivialization of faith in the modern world: christians in north america have surpassed all competitors in that booming business. our patriotism has become a cult of self-worship consecrated by court prophets robed in pinstripe suits. forgetting the difference between discipleship and patriotism, the God most Americans trust is a simulacrum of the holy and transcendent God, a reification of the american way of life. ‘the church has an obligation not to join in the incantation of political slogans in the concoction of pseudo-events,” thomas merton wrote in his 198 book, violence and faith, ‘but to cut clear through the ambiguity of both slogans and events by her simplicity and her love’” (marsh, the beloved community, pg. 7).
“while the (civil rights) movement is often celebrated in the public sphere as a great civics lesson of a nation’s common hopes, it teaches us equally important and urgent lessons about the integrity of our differences. the black churches of the civil rights movement did not relinquish their specific theological commitments when student volunteers arrived, many of whom were not christian, but they found ways of including new friends in their worship without erasing the real differences between them” (ibid, pg. 6).
i hope that a couple of you accept my invitation to read this book with me and enter into a bit of dialogue about its major themes. expect to see more marsh quotations in the near future.
while stumbling about the new book area at the beverly library this saturday i stumbled across killing yourself to live by chuck klosterman (which i loved. i am beginning to think that klosterman is the new and improved, non-fiction version of douglas coupland, whose jpod, i can review with a single word: ehh…>) and the beloved community: how faith shapes social justice, from the civil rights movement to today by charles marsh.
although i have only completed the introduction of the latter work, i can already tell that it is going to be a book that i will love. within the first five pages marsh asserts that his book “seeks to reinvest the civil rights movement of its deep soul be interpreting the civil rights movement as a theological drama.” as marsh unfolds the stories of the leaders of the civil rights movement and explains how their individual stories converge with the arc of God’s great redemptive narrative, i suspect that i might learn something about how my story can be completely superseded by, yet play a significant part in, the divine drama. i would love for someone to read this book with me so that we can engage in meaningful conversation about it.
here are a couple of quotes from the first chapter that i found particularly interesting:
“american Christians can blame secularists for many things but surely not for the trivialization of faith in the modern world: christians in north america have surpassed all competitors in that booming business. our patriotism has become a cult of self-worship consecrated by court prophets robed in pinstripe suits. forgetting the difference between discipleship and patriotism, the God most Americans trust is a simulacrum of the holy and transcendent God, a reification of the american way of life. ‘the church has an obligation not to join in the incantation of political slogans in the concoction of pseudo-events,” thomas merton wrote in his 198 book, violence and faith, ‘but to cut clear through the ambiguity of both slogans and events by her simplicity and her love’” (marsh, the beloved community, pg. 7).
“while the (civil rights) movement is often celebrated in the public sphere as a great civics lesson of a nation’s common hopes, it teaches us equally important and urgent lessons about the integrity of our differences. the black churches of the civil rights movement did not relinquish their specific theological commitments when student volunteers arrived, many of whom were not christian, but they found ways of including new friends in their worship without erasing the real differences between them” (ibid, pg. 6).
i hope that a couple of you accept my invitation to read this book with me and enter into a bit of dialogue about its major themes. expect to see more marsh quotations in the near future.
snapshots of psychosis
kevin smith clark often refers to me as a “crazy magnet.” occasionally i have 24 to 72 hour runs where i bump into so many psychotic people and have so many odd encounters that i begin to think he’s right.
currently, i’m on a crazy run like you wouldn’t believe. within the last twelve hours i have:
overheard a cell phone conversation in which a jimmy buffet-esque drunk uncle derided his nephew’s decision to join the marines by openly wondering “what are you going to do in iraq? kill some (insert the plural form of an extremely offensive racial slur here) and buy some camels?” he then asked his nephew if he was drunk. when his nephew apparently responded that he was not, the uncle declared that he was “a total pussy.” apparently, our buffet lovin’ friend was “drunk every night when i was twenty five.” he continued by asserting that “hell, now i’m thirty eight, have two kids and you’re still more likely to find me drunk on a weeknight than sober.” based on my experience, this confession was something short of shocking. the uncle concluded the conversation by asking his nephew to meet him at the bar of the historic hawthorne hotel in salem for drinks. when his nephew declined, the uncle reminded him that “you are such a pussy” and affirmed that “if i was at your house right now, i would ejaculate in your face.” i could also tell you how this paragon of virtue played a tinny, taped recording of the red hot chili pepper’s breaking a girl every time a reasonably attractive women walked by, but i fear that would be piling on.
early this morning, around 3.25 a.m. i received a drunk dial from a friend or family member who should be thankful i am concealing their identity. actually after the phone shook me out of sleep and i was startled by the name on my phone display, i was even more confused to find that the person on the other line was not my anonymous family member or friend but an acquaintance of that person who haltingly suggested that i talk to this person because “she/he is convinced that she/he is getting married tomorrow and is completely pissed that you are not going to make the wedding.” after i stumbled out of bed and let the dog out to do her early morning duty, the anonymous friend or family member wrenched the phone from their friend berated me by saying “i can’t believe that you’re not going to make my wedding” and confirmed that she/he was “wearing green shoes but one of them was missing.” at the mention of green shoes i tersely recommended that the person get some sleep and snapped the phone shut. now i cannot decide whether i should tare into this stupid son or daughter of a bitch for drunk dialing me at 3.25 in the morning or whether i should make an exploratory call to the betty ford clinic.
as soon as i got into the office, one of my co-workers – who likes show tunes, multiple piercings and calling in for free concert tickets on Mike 98 FM – admitted that he/she “often feels like a homicidal maniac.” moreover, he/she told us that if we “hear of someone going on a homicidal rampage through ryalside (a local, blue collar neighborhood), you’ll know who’s to blame.” after my wide-eyed co-worker and i received he/she’s confession, i appreciated the wisdom of krista’s pre-designated inner-office hiding places for the first time.
kevin smith clark often refers to me as a “crazy magnet.” occasionally i have 24 to 72 hour runs where i bump into so many psychotic people and have so many odd encounters that i begin to think he’s right.
currently, i’m on a crazy run like you wouldn’t believe. within the last twelve hours i have:
overheard a cell phone conversation in which a jimmy buffet-esque drunk uncle derided his nephew’s decision to join the marines by openly wondering “what are you going to do in iraq? kill some (insert the plural form of an extremely offensive racial slur here) and buy some camels?” he then asked his nephew if he was drunk. when his nephew apparently responded that he was not, the uncle declared that he was “a total pussy.” apparently, our buffet lovin’ friend was “drunk every night when i was twenty five.” he continued by asserting that “hell, now i’m thirty eight, have two kids and you’re still more likely to find me drunk on a weeknight than sober.” based on my experience, this confession was something short of shocking. the uncle concluded the conversation by asking his nephew to meet him at the bar of the historic hawthorne hotel in salem for drinks. when his nephew declined, the uncle reminded him that “you are such a pussy” and affirmed that “if i was at your house right now, i would ejaculate in your face.” i could also tell you how this paragon of virtue played a tinny, taped recording of the red hot chili pepper’s breaking a girl every time a reasonably attractive women walked by, but i fear that would be piling on.
early this morning, around 3.25 a.m. i received a drunk dial from a friend or family member who should be thankful i am concealing their identity. actually after the phone shook me out of sleep and i was startled by the name on my phone display, i was even more confused to find that the person on the other line was not my anonymous family member or friend but an acquaintance of that person who haltingly suggested that i talk to this person because “she/he is convinced that she/he is getting married tomorrow and is completely pissed that you are not going to make the wedding.” after i stumbled out of bed and let the dog out to do her early morning duty, the anonymous friend or family member wrenched the phone from their friend berated me by saying “i can’t believe that you’re not going to make my wedding” and confirmed that she/he was “wearing green shoes but one of them was missing.” at the mention of green shoes i tersely recommended that the person get some sleep and snapped the phone shut. now i cannot decide whether i should tare into this stupid son or daughter of a bitch for drunk dialing me at 3.25 in the morning or whether i should make an exploratory call to the betty ford clinic.
as soon as i got into the office, one of my co-workers – who likes show tunes, multiple piercings and calling in for free concert tickets on Mike 98 FM – admitted that he/she “often feels like a homicidal maniac.” moreover, he/she told us that if we “hear of someone going on a homicidal rampage through ryalside (a local, blue collar neighborhood), you’ll know who’s to blame.” after my wide-eyed co-worker and i received he/she’s confession, i appreciated the wisdom of krista’s pre-designated inner-office hiding places for the first time.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
overheard…
in leadership formation and the declining cost of information stephen shields makes a cogent argument for contextualized leadership training. shields believes that the economic and spatial accessibility of biblical studies and theology resources makes attending distant seminaries and bible colleges less and less necessary. thus, instead of leaving the ministry contexts we are called to in order to study, shields believes most people would be better served by staying where they are, digging deeply into biblical studies and theology and – this is the most important part – finding a mentor or spiritual director that will help us develop the character that pastoral ministry requires. i think that this type of contextual leadership training will be one of the most positive legacies of the mega-church movement. over the past four years i’ve become personally acquainted with the leadership development program instituted by one innovative mega-church and have been completely overwhelmed by the quality of training they provide. i realize that all contextual leadership programs are not created equal, but i still think this trend is one that will be beneficial for the church at large.
in last month’s next-wave drew mosier penned a somewhat similar article on how technology is changing the face of theological formulation. if you dig shield’s article, you’ll enjoy drew’s insightful piece as well.
finally, elijah wyman, a local musician and friend of the sinners and saints community recently penned this piece that challenges us to relinquish our fear of pain and learn the fundamentals of happiness. i realize that there is a good deal of wise, godly instruction in this article and am only a little short of desperate to practice the fundamentals that elijah professes. thank you for turning us on to the sacramental truths that are buried inside your, and our, suffering ew.
in leadership formation and the declining cost of information stephen shields makes a cogent argument for contextualized leadership training. shields believes that the economic and spatial accessibility of biblical studies and theology resources makes attending distant seminaries and bible colleges less and less necessary. thus, instead of leaving the ministry contexts we are called to in order to study, shields believes most people would be better served by staying where they are, digging deeply into biblical studies and theology and – this is the most important part – finding a mentor or spiritual director that will help us develop the character that pastoral ministry requires. i think that this type of contextual leadership training will be one of the most positive legacies of the mega-church movement. over the past four years i’ve become personally acquainted with the leadership development program instituted by one innovative mega-church and have been completely overwhelmed by the quality of training they provide. i realize that all contextual leadership programs are not created equal, but i still think this trend is one that will be beneficial for the church at large.
in last month’s next-wave drew mosier penned a somewhat similar article on how technology is changing the face of theological formulation. if you dig shield’s article, you’ll enjoy drew’s insightful piece as well.
finally, elijah wyman, a local musician and friend of the sinners and saints community recently penned this piece that challenges us to relinquish our fear of pain and learn the fundamentals of happiness. i realize that there is a good deal of wise, godly instruction in this article and am only a little short of desperate to practice the fundamentals that elijah professes. thank you for turning us on to the sacramental truths that are buried inside your, and our, suffering ew.
tonight, too-night
the emergent cohort is gathering at 7 pm to discuss theology, drink beer and swap stories. we’d love for you to break up the sinners and saints co-hort hegemony by joining us at bukowski’s* (50 dalton street, boston, 02115) around 7 p.m.
if you have questions, need further directions or would like to learn why we believe judas is in heaven, feel free to contact me at gentry13@gmail.com.
*bukowski’s is a cash only establishment. please plan accordingly.
the emergent cohort is gathering at 7 pm to discuss theology, drink beer and swap stories. we’d love for you to break up the sinners and saints co-hort hegemony by joining us at bukowski’s* (50 dalton street, boston, 02115) around 7 p.m.
if you have questions, need further directions or would like to learn why we believe judas is in heaven, feel free to contact me at gentry13@gmail.com.
*bukowski’s is a cash only establishment. please plan accordingly.
Monday, June 12, 2006
church marketing SUCKS
a few moments ago, while perusing out of ur, one of my favorite God blogs on the net, I noticed an article that mentioned church marketing stinks. although i’ve never been to church marketing stinks, i have visited church marketing sucks on several occasions and have been intrigued by their analysis of church growth trends and the discussions such analysis has provoked.
surprisingly, after clicking through the church marketing stinks link and plugging churchmarketingsucks.com into the old address bar I realized that they are dissimilar urls that lead to the exact same website. i suppose that church marketing stinks is the label they use for conservative, non-cussin’ ee-vangelicals that comprise the overwhelming majority of CT’s core audience and church marketing sucks is the label they use for more progressive, f-bomb dropping emerging eh-vangelical types.
apparently the creators of this website think it is acceptable to utilize the very same niche marketing techniques they criticize in order to increase their hit count and their search engine placement. let it be known that i find such hypocrisy deplorable and will never visit their site again.
a few moments ago, while perusing out of ur, one of my favorite God blogs on the net, I noticed an article that mentioned church marketing stinks. although i’ve never been to church marketing stinks, i have visited church marketing sucks on several occasions and have been intrigued by their analysis of church growth trends and the discussions such analysis has provoked.
surprisingly, after clicking through the church marketing stinks link and plugging churchmarketingsucks.com into the old address bar I realized that they are dissimilar urls that lead to the exact same website. i suppose that church marketing stinks is the label they use for conservative, non-cussin’ ee-vangelicals that comprise the overwhelming majority of CT’s core audience and church marketing sucks is the label they use for more progressive, f-bomb dropping emerging eh-vangelical types.
apparently the creators of this website think it is acceptable to utilize the very same niche marketing techniques they criticize in order to increase their hit count and their search engine placement. let it be known that i find such hypocrisy deplorable and will never visit their site again.
to be chuck klosterman or saint francis, that is the question
stories. stories. everyone wants to talk about stories lately.
an almost infinite number of books from the evangelical milieu, including to be told, the story we find ourselves in and epic, focus on helping develop our personal stories and sanctifying our narrative arc. moreover, this weekend at the boston faith and justice network kickoff bart campolo promised us that if we invest our lives in justice and the poor he cannot promise us notoriety, riches or success but he can promise us great stories. bart believes that the only thing we will do in heaven, besides praising God, is tell these wonderful stories.
in my spare time I spend a lot of my time reading, you guessed it, stories. i read sweeping narratives of great cities and the unmistakably unique individuals that shape and are shaped by their urban settings, i devour crazy stream of consciousness books such as killing yourself to live which reads like 235 pages of kick-ass liner notes and i read about the incarnation of the gospel that was so evident in the civil rights movements.
i am always adrift and occasionally feel like i am drowning in stories. but here’s the thing, i have serious doubts whether my story is worth telling. even more difficult, i seriously question whether my story is what this life is all about.
if i read the Christian Scriptures at least somewhat correctly, it appears that God’s story is to be sole focus of a Christ follower’s life. but there are many, many days on which i don’t feel like listening to God’s story, much less allowing that story line to supersede my own. i want to be enamored, enlightened and engulfed by God’s story, but i am usually far more interested in the unexpected conflicts, peculiar plot twists and ambivalent resolutions that compose my little life.
i realize that allowing my own story to be eclipsed by God’s story will result in a life that is more beautiful, good and true. but i am loathe to surrender my role as director and screenwriter to my executive producer.
for the record, i realize that these tendencies are sinful and i am crying out for sanctification.
stories. stories. everyone wants to talk about stories lately.
an almost infinite number of books from the evangelical milieu, including to be told, the story we find ourselves in and epic, focus on helping develop our personal stories and sanctifying our narrative arc. moreover, this weekend at the boston faith and justice network kickoff bart campolo promised us that if we invest our lives in justice and the poor he cannot promise us notoriety, riches or success but he can promise us great stories. bart believes that the only thing we will do in heaven, besides praising God, is tell these wonderful stories.
in my spare time I spend a lot of my time reading, you guessed it, stories. i read sweeping narratives of great cities and the unmistakably unique individuals that shape and are shaped by their urban settings, i devour crazy stream of consciousness books such as killing yourself to live which reads like 235 pages of kick-ass liner notes and i read about the incarnation of the gospel that was so evident in the civil rights movements.
i am always adrift and occasionally feel like i am drowning in stories. but here’s the thing, i have serious doubts whether my story is worth telling. even more difficult, i seriously question whether my story is what this life is all about.
if i read the Christian Scriptures at least somewhat correctly, it appears that God’s story is to be sole focus of a Christ follower’s life. but there are many, many days on which i don’t feel like listening to God’s story, much less allowing that story line to supersede my own. i want to be enamored, enlightened and engulfed by God’s story, but i am usually far more interested in the unexpected conflicts, peculiar plot twists and ambivalent resolutions that compose my little life.
i realize that allowing my own story to be eclipsed by God’s story will result in a life that is more beautiful, good and true. but i am loathe to surrender my role as director and screenwriter to my executive producer.
for the record, i realize that these tendencies are sinful and i am crying out for sanctification.
Friday, June 09, 2006
overheard
in today's christianity today home page tim keller exhorts us to be a "christian counter-culture for the common good." i think keller has a distinctive, theologically grounded and culturally aware perspective on how we can help bring shalom to our cities. i hope you can take a moment to read the article, but for you lazy asses i've posted an excerpt below.
"It will not be enough for Christians to form a culture that runs counter to the values of the broader culture. Christians should be a community radically committed to the good of the city as a whole. We must move out to sacrificially serve the good of the whole human community, especially the poor. Revelation 21-22 makes it clear that the ultimate purpose of redemption is not to escape the material world, but to renew it. God's purpose is not only saving individuals, but also inaugurating a new world based on justice, peace, and love, not power, strife, and selfishness.
So Christians work for the peace, security, justice, and prosperity of their city and their neighbors, loving them in word and in deed, whether they believe what we do or not. In Jeremiah 29:7, Israel's exiles were called not just to live in the city, but also to love it and work for its shalom—its economic, social, and spiritual flourishing. The citizens of God's city are the best possible citizens of their earthly cities."
in today's christianity today home page tim keller exhorts us to be a "christian counter-culture for the common good." i think keller has a distinctive, theologically grounded and culturally aware perspective on how we can help bring shalom to our cities. i hope you can take a moment to read the article, but for you lazy asses i've posted an excerpt below.
"It will not be enough for Christians to form a culture that runs counter to the values of the broader culture. Christians should be a community radically committed to the good of the city as a whole. We must move out to sacrificially serve the good of the whole human community, especially the poor. Revelation 21-22 makes it clear that the ultimate purpose of redemption is not to escape the material world, but to renew it. God's purpose is not only saving individuals, but also inaugurating a new world based on justice, peace, and love, not power, strife, and selfishness.
So Christians work for the peace, security, justice, and prosperity of their city and their neighbors, loving them in word and in deed, whether they believe what we do or not. In Jeremiah 29:7, Israel's exiles were called not just to live in the city, but also to love it and work for its shalom—its economic, social, and spiritual flourishing. The citizens of God's city are the best possible citizens of their earthly cities."
today we salute you: mr. foot in the mouth
on tuesday night, in the cozy confines of the brewers’ dugout, i asked our fifty year old assistant coach if the twenty-something girl bringing him updates on the sox-yankees game was his daughter. after he turned two shades of red he smirked and said “actually, she’s my girlfriend.” after i apologized for my oversight he quickly said, “that’s okay. you’re from the midwest and unaccustomed to such twists.”
ugh. i hate having foot for dinner.
this encounter reminded me of the time my friend clark, who had come out of the closet to me only days before, came into my dorm room wearing a somewhat muted but still unmistakable hawaiian shirt. as soon as my roommate kurt took one look at clark he said, “clark, don’t take this the wrong way, but the only people who can pull off hawaiian shirts are fat guys and flaming homosexuals.”
good times.
has your foot provided you with any memorable meals? if so, spill.
on tuesday night, in the cozy confines of the brewers’ dugout, i asked our fifty year old assistant coach if the twenty-something girl bringing him updates on the sox-yankees game was his daughter. after he turned two shades of red he smirked and said “actually, she’s my girlfriend.” after i apologized for my oversight he quickly said, “that’s okay. you’re from the midwest and unaccustomed to such twists.”
ugh. i hate having foot for dinner.
this encounter reminded me of the time my friend clark, who had come out of the closet to me only days before, came into my dorm room wearing a somewhat muted but still unmistakable hawaiian shirt. as soon as my roommate kurt took one look at clark he said, “clark, don’t take this the wrong way, but the only people who can pull off hawaiian shirts are fat guys and flaming homosexuals.”
good times.
has your foot provided you with any memorable meals? if so, spill.
Thursday, June 08, 2006
the hot new accessory for cardinals fans
okay, so like i said, i want hard eyes and a soft heart.
my hard eyes are telling me that the cardinals are dead in the water without pujols. our cheap-ass, revenue rich republican owners tightened the purse strings this season, leaving without a viable left fielder or second baseman, and our right fielder is average at best. any cardinals fan worth his salt would have agreed with me when i said last year was this incarnation of the team's "last, best shot of winning a ring," but none of us expected the owners to royally screw us during the offseason.
fortunately, albert’s magnificent season was keeping our worst fears at bay…until friday night. in aaron or dustin’s space a couple of weeks ago, i predicted that the cardinals without pujols would probably be about as bad as the cubs without lee. now, after we dropped two of three to the scrubs and have been swept by the reds at home (our first two series losses at the new busch) i’m afraid that my prediction is in the process of coming true.
on the other hand, my soft heart is telling me that i cannot give up on this team. i want to believe that jocketty will find the right players at the break, the owners will use their exorbiant tax refunds on something worthwhile, mulder will show flashes of his former, steroids enhanced self and albert will be back by july. as much as i hate to admit it, i’ve given up on cardinals teams before. this year i’m going to overcome my fears, tie my ass to the couch and see if the boys can work yet another miracle.
here’s to "leaning in" to the rest of the season and hoping my heart doesn’t get shredded.
for more on the cardinal’s precarious situation, read cardinals uber-blogger lboros’ take.
okay, so like i said, i want hard eyes and a soft heart.
my hard eyes are telling me that the cardinals are dead in the water without pujols. our cheap-ass, revenue rich republican owners tightened the purse strings this season, leaving without a viable left fielder or second baseman, and our right fielder is average at best. any cardinals fan worth his salt would have agreed with me when i said last year was this incarnation of the team's "last, best shot of winning a ring," but none of us expected the owners to royally screw us during the offseason.
fortunately, albert’s magnificent season was keeping our worst fears at bay…until friday night. in aaron or dustin’s space a couple of weeks ago, i predicted that the cardinals without pujols would probably be about as bad as the cubs without lee. now, after we dropped two of three to the scrubs and have been swept by the reds at home (our first two series losses at the new busch) i’m afraid that my prediction is in the process of coming true.
on the other hand, my soft heart is telling me that i cannot give up on this team. i want to believe that jocketty will find the right players at the break, the owners will use their exorbiant tax refunds on something worthwhile, mulder will show flashes of his former, steroids enhanced self and albert will be back by july. as much as i hate to admit it, i’ve given up on cardinals teams before. this year i’m going to overcome my fears, tie my ass to the couch and see if the boys can work yet another miracle.
here’s to "leaning in" to the rest of the season and hoping my heart doesn’t get shredded.
for more on the cardinal’s precarious situation, read cardinals uber-blogger lboros’ take.
musing...
although i’m a bit of a hard-ass, i’m pretty quick to have pity on others. throughout my life i’ve bypassed the cliques in the cafeteria to try and befriend the friendless, shared my resources with those who have needs and looked beggars in the eye whenever i’ve extended the change that’s in my pocket. i tell you this not to trumpet my own righteousness, but to suggest that such acts are not evidence of righteousness at all.
i’m quick to take pity on others, but i’ve been called to love. i’m beginning to suspect that substituting the former for the latter is not only misguided, but sinful.
Jesus is not calling me to merely have pity on the needy by providing them with a taste of food, but challenging me to forego my dinner plans to break bread with the destitute. Jesus does not want me to simply feel sorry for my maladjusted coworker who was fucked by her family system, he wants me to believe that she can be born into a new family where beauty, truth and goodness reign. Jesus does not expect me to simply serve individuals who are being crushed by the powers, principalities, structures and institutions of the world, but to subvert the oppressive, death inducing powers of this world with the liberating, life-giving way of the kingdom.
for far too long, i’ve walked through this world with sentimental eyes and a hard, cynical heart. by God’s grace, through the power of His Holy Spirit, i hope he flips my script by turning me into a man with hard, discerning eyes and a warm, hospitable and always hoping heart.
although i’m a bit of a hard-ass, i’m pretty quick to have pity on others. throughout my life i’ve bypassed the cliques in the cafeteria to try and befriend the friendless, shared my resources with those who have needs and looked beggars in the eye whenever i’ve extended the change that’s in my pocket. i tell you this not to trumpet my own righteousness, but to suggest that such acts are not evidence of righteousness at all.
i’m quick to take pity on others, but i’ve been called to love. i’m beginning to suspect that substituting the former for the latter is not only misguided, but sinful.
Jesus is not calling me to merely have pity on the needy by providing them with a taste of food, but challenging me to forego my dinner plans to break bread with the destitute. Jesus does not want me to simply feel sorry for my maladjusted coworker who was fucked by her family system, he wants me to believe that she can be born into a new family where beauty, truth and goodness reign. Jesus does not expect me to simply serve individuals who are being crushed by the powers, principalities, structures and institutions of the world, but to subvert the oppressive, death inducing powers of this world with the liberating, life-giving way of the kingdom.
for far too long, i’ve walked through this world with sentimental eyes and a hard, cynical heart. by God’s grace, through the power of His Holy Spirit, i hope he flips my script by turning me into a man with hard, discerning eyes and a warm, hospitable and always hoping heart.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
today i’m
singing johnny cash in my head, loathing tepid coffee, reeling from spending a weekend in the rain, missing preaching, starting to read jpod, wondering why the umpire shoved me last night, wishing i was writing something substantial, completely clueless as to what that would be, loathing horse-hair plaster, in hock, tired of peanut butter, sick of rain, aping coupland’s juxtapositions, sending crooked river burning to an unsuspecting friend, contemplating a conversion to wordpress, believing tony soprano is the best tv lead ever, hunching over my desk to avoid detection, wanting to share more stories about work, afraid of getting dooced, almost ready to take a shit, committed to not taking jpod with me, hesitant to check the box scores, abhorring the taste of maxwell house, leaving you to procure a cup.
what's up with you?
singing johnny cash in my head, loathing tepid coffee, reeling from spending a weekend in the rain, missing preaching, starting to read jpod, wondering why the umpire shoved me last night, wishing i was writing something substantial, completely clueless as to what that would be, loathing horse-hair plaster, in hock, tired of peanut butter, sick of rain, aping coupland’s juxtapositions, sending crooked river burning to an unsuspecting friend, contemplating a conversion to wordpress, believing tony soprano is the best tv lead ever, hunching over my desk to avoid detection, wanting to share more stories about work, afraid of getting dooced, almost ready to take a shit, committed to not taking jpod with me, hesitant to check the box scores, abhorring the taste of maxwell house, leaving you to procure a cup.
what's up with you?
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
memorandum from captain random
before we begin, let’s stop and mutter a prayer for those poor souls throughout the south who will be squirming in the pews while the preacher spews apocalyptic fury tonight.
speaking of the south, my day started with a bang when a sales rep penned an email that began “JELLO JAY, I WAS JUST ABOUT TO JUMP INTO THE SHOWER, BUT I WANTED TO EMAIL YOU THESE CHANGES FIRST.” this is the same representative who has recently explained her old maid status to me, suggested that one of our customers might be easy to deal with now that she’s “getting laid” and who calls me to develop a sales strategy on a daily basis. i wanted to immediately respond by: a) suggesting that she never call me jay again, b) pointing out to her that typing in all caps violates internet etiquette 101 and c) affirming to her, once again, that if i wanted to relate with overly familiar strangers, i’d move to dallas. however, after my second cup of coffee took the edge off and i remembered that she can only respond to one suggestion at a time, i only included admonition a.
does anyone believe that bush’s revitalized advocacy of a constitutional amendment against gay marriage is anything more than a blatant attempt to bolster his base? anyone? anyone?
work has been almost bearable lately. i suspect that the latter condition is directly linked to the conclusion of american idol.
so i just received a third chatty, hell i'd say it borders on flirty, email from my batty old rep. i will now burn my clothes and take an hour long shower.
before we begin, let’s stop and mutter a prayer for those poor souls throughout the south who will be squirming in the pews while the preacher spews apocalyptic fury tonight.
speaking of the south, my day started with a bang when a sales rep penned an email that began “JELLO JAY, I WAS JUST ABOUT TO JUMP INTO THE SHOWER, BUT I WANTED TO EMAIL YOU THESE CHANGES FIRST.” this is the same representative who has recently explained her old maid status to me, suggested that one of our customers might be easy to deal with now that she’s “getting laid” and who calls me to develop a sales strategy on a daily basis. i wanted to immediately respond by: a) suggesting that she never call me jay again, b) pointing out to her that typing in all caps violates internet etiquette 101 and c) affirming to her, once again, that if i wanted to relate with overly familiar strangers, i’d move to dallas. however, after my second cup of coffee took the edge off and i remembered that she can only respond to one suggestion at a time, i only included admonition a.
does anyone believe that bush’s revitalized advocacy of a constitutional amendment against gay marriage is anything more than a blatant attempt to bolster his base? anyone? anyone?
work has been almost bearable lately. i suspect that the latter condition is directly linked to the conclusion of american idol.
so i just received a third chatty, hell i'd say it borders on flirty, email from my batty old rep. i will now burn my clothes and take an hour long shower.
overheard
“a person can be in love with the idea of love. a person can fall in love with the idea of another person. less commonly, a person can fall in love with another person.
in fact, a person always falls in love with the idea of another person, not the person. falling in love with the actual person takes too much time and too much honesty. in the time it takes for it to be enough time, and to summon the strength it takes to mount enough honesty, it’s too late. a person is calling love something love that isn’t love.
unless it is. some people luck out. the thing they’ve been calling love turns out to be just that. such people exist. film at eleven.”
mark winegardner, crooked river burning, pg. 344.
“a person can be in love with the idea of love. a person can fall in love with the idea of another person. less commonly, a person can fall in love with another person.
in fact, a person always falls in love with the idea of another person, not the person. falling in love with the actual person takes too much time and too much honesty. in the time it takes for it to be enough time, and to summon the strength it takes to mount enough honesty, it’s too late. a person is calling love something love that isn’t love.
unless it is. some people luck out. the thing they’ve been calling love turns out to be just that. such people exist. film at eleven.”
mark winegardner, crooked river burning, pg. 344.
Monday, June 05, 2006
musing...
i really don’t want to go too far into this, but i was a lonely kid. i realize that everyone probably shares this story at some level and i don’t really believe that my experience was all that peculiar. but it still hurt.
my relative lack of inhibition, tendency to give the old fuck you to the authorities and self-depreciating sense of humor often ensured provided me with an immediate “in” with the most popular kids in school, the prettiest – if not the most pious - girls at camp and the most talented players on the team. however, soon after i started sharing my opinions (of which, i have many) and conversing with people in a manner that i considered dialogue and they considered debate, i found myself suddenly walking the hallways alone, catching an early ride home from sunset bible camp and riding the pine beside the second string right fielder. i don’t want to over-psychologize things, but i think that my early years were all about my unrestrained ID.
fortunately, around the time of my 19th birthday and after being arraigned for my fourth misdemeanor in six months, i was freely given a super-ego by faith through grace. little by little, that superego began to reshape my life and left me a little better prepared to enter into relationships. of course, i could also talk about the super-ego as the new man, the id as the old and the fully restored ego as the resurrection body that still lies, i think anyway, just over the horizon, but there are many different ways of telling the same story and i feel pretty freudian today. so there you go.
why am i sharing this? well, it’s a long introduction to a simple assertion: i am beginning to believe that community is the richest fruit and (perhaps) the greatest proof of my salvation. about halfway through our rain-soaked, alcohol aided, wild at heart weekend, i realized what a wonderful gift friendship truly is. as i chatted late into the night with james and cade, laughed hysterically at the sound of craig and jamie’s paean to pocahontas and threatened to disturb dave’s sleep with a golden shower, i was overwhelmed with gratitude for friends who: love me enough to admonish me, listen to my hasty opinions without condemnation and choose to accompany me through the best of times and the worst. community – yes, i’m including my family here – is the clearest reflection of God that i have yet to see and, i suspect, one of the best apologetics for my faith that i have yet to find.
for once, that’s all i have to say about that.
i really don’t want to go too far into this, but i was a lonely kid. i realize that everyone probably shares this story at some level and i don’t really believe that my experience was all that peculiar. but it still hurt.
my relative lack of inhibition, tendency to give the old fuck you to the authorities and self-depreciating sense of humor often ensured provided me with an immediate “in” with the most popular kids in school, the prettiest – if not the most pious - girls at camp and the most talented players on the team. however, soon after i started sharing my opinions (of which, i have many) and conversing with people in a manner that i considered dialogue and they considered debate, i found myself suddenly walking the hallways alone, catching an early ride home from sunset bible camp and riding the pine beside the second string right fielder. i don’t want to over-psychologize things, but i think that my early years were all about my unrestrained ID.
fortunately, around the time of my 19th birthday and after being arraigned for my fourth misdemeanor in six months, i was freely given a super-ego by faith through grace. little by little, that superego began to reshape my life and left me a little better prepared to enter into relationships. of course, i could also talk about the super-ego as the new man, the id as the old and the fully restored ego as the resurrection body that still lies, i think anyway, just over the horizon, but there are many different ways of telling the same story and i feel pretty freudian today. so there you go.
why am i sharing this? well, it’s a long introduction to a simple assertion: i am beginning to believe that community is the richest fruit and (perhaps) the greatest proof of my salvation. about halfway through our rain-soaked, alcohol aided, wild at heart weekend, i realized what a wonderful gift friendship truly is. as i chatted late into the night with james and cade, laughed hysterically at the sound of craig and jamie’s paean to pocahontas and threatened to disturb dave’s sleep with a golden shower, i was overwhelmed with gratitude for friends who: love me enough to admonish me, listen to my hasty opinions without condemnation and choose to accompany me through the best of times and the worst. community – yes, i’m including my family here – is the clearest reflection of God that i have yet to see and, i suspect, one of the best apologetics for my faith that i have yet to find.
for once, that’s all i have to say about that.
overheard: garrison keillor shares his passion for preaching, the necessity of comedy and his faith in grace
in my humble estimation, garrison keillor is one of those cash-esque celebrity christians who constantly escapes categorization, reminds us that incarnation is the best form of proclamation and would leave me sans clean shorts if i spied him listening to one of my sermons. this week CT is helps prepare us for Friday’s release of a prarie home companion by posting an intriguing interview, a piece of which i’ve posted below.
CT: Of your work, William Lee Miller once said that "one of [your] most striking themes is what one might call a positive or benign irony: getting more than, other than, better than, you deserve." Often in your stories something really good comes out of something that seems bad. Is that a recurring theme for you?
Keillor: I don't know as I would use the term "recurring theme," but I certainly would feel good about being able to do it and being able to do it in a plausible way. I feel that among writers of fiction there is a great deal of pretentious gloominess. Gloominess is nothing that an older person has a right to impose on young people. Young people can be very pessimistic and dark all on their own without us adding baggage to what they already have. And I like the idea of being 63 and trying to get people in their 20s to lighten up.
I think comedy is truthful in that respect. I think this is so much more the truth of ordinary life than the sudden catastrophic worst moment of death coming around the corner. I'm just finishing up a semester at the University of Minnesota teaching composition of comedy, and my students have a problem with comedy. It's because of this pretentious gloominess, which they've picked up from movies and wherever. I enjoyed the same sorts of things when I was their age, but they insist that they can't write comedy and I have to convince them that comedy is another way of telling the truth.
in my humble estimation, garrison keillor is one of those cash-esque celebrity christians who constantly escapes categorization, reminds us that incarnation is the best form of proclamation and would leave me sans clean shorts if i spied him listening to one of my sermons. this week CT is helps prepare us for Friday’s release of a prarie home companion by posting an intriguing interview, a piece of which i’ve posted below.
CT: Of your work, William Lee Miller once said that "one of [your] most striking themes is what one might call a positive or benign irony: getting more than, other than, better than, you deserve." Often in your stories something really good comes out of something that seems bad. Is that a recurring theme for you?
Keillor: I don't know as I would use the term "recurring theme," but I certainly would feel good about being able to do it and being able to do it in a plausible way. I feel that among writers of fiction there is a great deal of pretentious gloominess. Gloominess is nothing that an older person has a right to impose on young people. Young people can be very pessimistic and dark all on their own without us adding baggage to what they already have. And I like the idea of being 63 and trying to get people in their 20s to lighten up.
I think comedy is truthful in that respect. I think this is so much more the truth of ordinary life than the sudden catastrophic worst moment of death coming around the corner. I'm just finishing up a semester at the University of Minnesota teaching composition of comedy, and my students have a problem with comedy. It's because of this pretentious gloominess, which they've picked up from movies and wherever. I enjoyed the same sorts of things when I was their age, but they insist that they can't write comedy and I have to convince them that comedy is another way of telling the truth.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
last night…
after a few minutes of disarming small talk about vacation plans and bio-diesel, my pcp stuck his finger up my ass, “massaged my prostate” (his words, not mine) and wrote me a prescription.
a few hours later, after three solid innings of 0-0 ball, peabody took a couple of walks, capitalized on two errors and beat our asses 2-0.
as a result, i am sore. the end.
after a few minutes of disarming small talk about vacation plans and bio-diesel, my pcp stuck his finger up my ass, “massaged my prostate” (his words, not mine) and wrote me a prescription.
a few hours later, after three solid innings of 0-0 ball, peabody took a couple of walks, capitalized on two errors and beat our asses 2-0.
as a result, i am sore. the end.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
well surprise, surprise
espn.com is reporting that after seven months of cynical maneuvers for more cash, roger clemens has decided to ignore the final wishes of his dearly departed ma by returning to the houston astros. now that the rocket is finally set for re-entry, and the endless rumors and speculation about his plans have ceased, i would like to share my hopes for his season:
i hope that roger blows his rotator cuff, rolls his pickup truck and witnesses the death of his dearly beloved dog. i would also wish that he would lose a climactic, late season game to the cardinals, but it seems silly to waste a wish on that which is certain.
espn.com is reporting that after seven months of cynical maneuvers for more cash, roger clemens has decided to ignore the final wishes of his dearly departed ma by returning to the houston astros. now that the rocket is finally set for re-entry, and the endless rumors and speculation about his plans have ceased, i would like to share my hopes for his season:
i hope that roger blows his rotator cuff, rolls his pickup truck and witnesses the death of his dearly beloved dog. i would also wish that he would lose a climactic, late season game to the cardinals, but it seems silly to waste a wish on that which is certain.
musing
i once believed that the whole of spiritual formation was summarized in that sing-song phrase “read your Bible, pray every day and you’ll grow, grow, grow.”
then i learned a little about the classic spiritual disciplines of the Christian life from a quirky quaker and my understanding of formation expanded as i learned to meditate, journal, celebrate and fast for the good of my soul and the glory of God (ok, i’ve never been any good at fasting, but every hitter has a whole in his swing).
now, i’m slowly beginning to realize, in a halting manner that readily betrays my discipleship disabled ass, that every experience, relationship and moment provides an opportunity for formation. take baseball, for instance.
although we are only three games into the season, i have already seen how fear still tempts me to duck away instead of leaning into life. i committed a couple of egregious sins of commission (i.e., mistakenly giving my slow-footed catcher the green light to steal second with one out) and omission (failing to contest a judgment call and so encouraging my players to buck up to the blues themselves) last night from the third base coaching box and as a result i am, quite frankly, afraid of calling the shots again tonight. my failure to act led my players to ignore my leadership on the bases (to our peril), question my passivity in the dugout and lose their focus on the game. as a result, i had difficulty sleeping, i’ve felt like obliterating my jitters by punching a fucking wall all day and i would rather not suit up and show up to twi field tonight.
but i know that capitulating to my fears would not only harm my reinforce my tendency to duck, dive, dodge and duck from whatever life hurls at me, but could also ruin my relationships with my players and feed the insecurities that try to keep me captive. so i’m choosing to lean in to this experience and see what i can make of both this season, and subsequently, my life.
i wouldn’t say that i’m overwhelmingly optimistic about tonight’s game, but i still believe that even a blind squirrel finds a nut sometimes.
i once believed that the whole of spiritual formation was summarized in that sing-song phrase “read your Bible, pray every day and you’ll grow, grow, grow.”
then i learned a little about the classic spiritual disciplines of the Christian life from a quirky quaker and my understanding of formation expanded as i learned to meditate, journal, celebrate and fast for the good of my soul and the glory of God (ok, i’ve never been any good at fasting, but every hitter has a whole in his swing).
now, i’m slowly beginning to realize, in a halting manner that readily betrays my discipleship disabled ass, that every experience, relationship and moment provides an opportunity for formation. take baseball, for instance.
although we are only three games into the season, i have already seen how fear still tempts me to duck away instead of leaning into life. i committed a couple of egregious sins of commission (i.e., mistakenly giving my slow-footed catcher the green light to steal second with one out) and omission (failing to contest a judgment call and so encouraging my players to buck up to the blues themselves) last night from the third base coaching box and as a result i am, quite frankly, afraid of calling the shots again tonight. my failure to act led my players to ignore my leadership on the bases (to our peril), question my passivity in the dugout and lose their focus on the game. as a result, i had difficulty sleeping, i’ve felt like obliterating my jitters by punching a fucking wall all day and i would rather not suit up and show up to twi field tonight.
but i know that capitulating to my fears would not only harm my reinforce my tendency to duck, dive, dodge and duck from whatever life hurls at me, but could also ruin my relationships with my players and feed the insecurities that try to keep me captive. so i’m choosing to lean in to this experience and see what i can make of both this season, and subsequently, my life.
i wouldn’t say that i’m overwhelmingly optimistic about tonight’s game, but i still believe that even a blind squirrel finds a nut sometimes.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
brew crew banter
last night anthony bonosaro, or bonar for short, led us to our first victory of the season. bonar through seven complete innings of one run ball, was 2 for 3 at the plate and brought what appeared to be the entire cast of porky’s VI along to cheer us to victory.
other highlights included:
the thwacking of two ground rule doubles, one by justin negrotti and one by pete i’talien, our short stop (the latter hit may or may not have been more valuable if i had not put the hit-and-run on the pitch before)
the other anthony, our eighteen year old left fielder, getting rung up on a bull-shit check swing call by the fattest umpire since eric gregg (i might have gotten into a rather heated “conversation” with the umpire about the validity of this call)
rooney, pope and I celebrating our victory with free bratwursts, german potato salad and sangrias at our neighbor’s bbq
pope steadfastly refusing – for the most part anyway - his inclination to fraternize during the game
tonight and tomorrow night we have two huge games against swampscott and peabody. wish us luck!
btw – applications for 2006 ball bitch are still available. let me know if you’re interested.
last night anthony bonosaro, or bonar for short, led us to our first victory of the season. bonar through seven complete innings of one run ball, was 2 for 3 at the plate and brought what appeared to be the entire cast of porky’s VI along to cheer us to victory.
other highlights included:
the thwacking of two ground rule doubles, one by justin negrotti and one by pete i’talien, our short stop (the latter hit may or may not have been more valuable if i had not put the hit-and-run on the pitch before)
the other anthony, our eighteen year old left fielder, getting rung up on a bull-shit check swing call by the fattest umpire since eric gregg (i might have gotten into a rather heated “conversation” with the umpire about the validity of this call)
rooney, pope and I celebrating our victory with free bratwursts, german potato salad and sangrias at our neighbor’s bbq
pope steadfastly refusing – for the most part anyway - his inclination to fraternize during the game
tonight and tomorrow night we have two huge games against swampscott and peabody. wish us luck!
btw – applications for 2006 ball bitch are still available. let me know if you’re interested.
all aboard
when i was a kid, i often loathed calling grand central station home. at our house the phone rang constantly, family and friends came and went constantly and nine months out of the year the front door was wide open, inviting people to look, lean and live into our lives. although generally hospitable to our guests and usually courteous on the phone, i was often sequestered in my room where i sought silence and snapped at interruptions.
fueled by adolescent angst i often hated the non-stop energy of that place and swore i would live differently. i swore i would live differently.
but here i sit, in my own house, following old patterns by (presumably) seeking silence in my room. the phone has yet to ring, but no less than five people have been in and out of the house in the last hour, one friend is in the process of moving out of our front room so that another can move in, kellie and becky are clanging around in the kitchen, cade and alex are talking over the french open in the living room and the front door is open. the front door is open.
feel free to look, lean and live into our life. i’ve freely set aside my angst and have accepted my role as a supervisor of grand central station east. make no mistake, i still want my silence, but i hope this is a place where strangers are welcome, friends become family and faith finds feet.
when i was a kid, i often loathed calling grand central station home. at our house the phone rang constantly, family and friends came and went constantly and nine months out of the year the front door was wide open, inviting people to look, lean and live into our lives. although generally hospitable to our guests and usually courteous on the phone, i was often sequestered in my room where i sought silence and snapped at interruptions.
fueled by adolescent angst i often hated the non-stop energy of that place and swore i would live differently. i swore i would live differently.
but here i sit, in my own house, following old patterns by (presumably) seeking silence in my room. the phone has yet to ring, but no less than five people have been in and out of the house in the last hour, one friend is in the process of moving out of our front room so that another can move in, kellie and becky are clanging around in the kitchen, cade and alex are talking over the french open in the living room and the front door is open. the front door is open.
feel free to look, lean and live into our life. i’ve freely set aside my angst and have accepted my role as a supervisor of grand central station east. make no mistake, i still want my silence, but i hope this is a place where strangers are welcome, friends become family and faith finds feet.
Friday, May 26, 2006
a couple of conversations
this morning kellie told me that she would be returning from work later than usual because she has an appointment with galadriel* to get her eyebrows waxed. since galadriel is a trans-gendered person, i made some throwaway lament about her “leaving me for galadriel,” and thought that was that. but it wasn’t.
a couple of hours later, one of my co-workers, a Jew who married a Catholic and has a sister that is borderline fundamentalist Evangelical, dropped by my cube to talk about her sister’s friend who is a former methodist minister. the former qualifier was stamped upon this woman because she recently married a trans-gendered person. of course, the full story is more complicated than that. it almost always is. the reason the former methodist minister married the trans-gendered person is because she was widowed by her methodist minister husband who struggled mightily with chemical depression and ultimately decided to take the short road home. Apparently, a few years into her widowhood the former methodist minister found a nurturing relationship with this trans-gendered person – according to my co-worker they both have kids, love God and are a perfect match – and they decided to make their union official. my coworker unraveled this rather confounding narrative to me because she is distressed that the trans-gendered woman, who is married to the former methodist minister, is going to take her life because she feels almost completely alienated from society and the church. apparently the pastor of the methodist congregation that the couple attends recently barred the trans-gendered individual from receiving communion and my co-worker fears that rejection might become a tipping point. confused yet? i was.
after my co-worker finished telling this story i almost trotted the one thousandth variation on the “God loves them just the way they are, but too much to leave them there” soliloquy. my co-worker knows that i am some stripe of pastor, so i felt somewhat compelled to provide the evangelical position on this issue. but i didn’t.
instead, i sat back and thought about how proud i am of my wife, who knows how important it is to love and leave it to God to judge. i hail from a culture that often sets that equation up quite differently. back home, in the spit shined buckle of the Bible belt, it often seemed like our Christian duty was not to engage homosexuals, adulterers and addicts with the love of God, but to disengage from them, lest the merest hint of their sin stain our souls. as i reflect on my experiences in that place and culture that I dearly love, it seems that we often twisted paul’s admonition to “judge those in the church,” for those who sinned outside the church were usually the objects of our snide comments or malicious disengagement, while those who “stumbled” within the church were showered with unconditional love.**
where am I going with this? places i don’t yet understand and have doubts about my ability to find.
here’s what i can tell you, one of the greatest gifts that my wife, the sinners and saints community and the emergent conversation has bestowed upon me is the ability to love others and leave the judgment to God. does this mean that i am “soft on sin?” i don’t think so. i actually take the life-threatening consequences of my sin, the shortcomings of our community and the systemic sins that plague all institutions really seriously. does this mean that i’m a proponent of trans-gendered marriage or think that the methodist pastor’s decision was completely out of bounds? i’d have to answer both questions with a slightly qualified “no.” i think the marriage issue is a really tough one because it is a referendum not only on our morality but also upon our understanding of church and state. moreover, i am quite sure that the methodist minister has struggled mightily with his decision and is probably between a denominational rock and a personal hard place.
in sum, all i’m saying is this: Jesus said that he did not come for the healthy, but the sick, not for the righteous, but the unrighteous. moreover, Jesus never side-stepped the eventuality of judgment, but he led with love.
he led with love.
i think it’s best that i follow his lead and leave the judgment to Him. and i am so deeply grateful that i have a wife, a community and a conversation that is helping me to do just that.
*her name has been changed to protect her anonymity. but rest assured, the nom de plume does reflect her incredibly unique name.
**james ault summarizes this tendency quite well in his spirit and flesh: life in a fundamentalist baptist church. if you haven’t read this volume, you should.
this morning kellie told me that she would be returning from work later than usual because she has an appointment with galadriel* to get her eyebrows waxed. since galadriel is a trans-gendered person, i made some throwaway lament about her “leaving me for galadriel,” and thought that was that. but it wasn’t.
a couple of hours later, one of my co-workers, a Jew who married a Catholic and has a sister that is borderline fundamentalist Evangelical, dropped by my cube to talk about her sister’s friend who is a former methodist minister. the former qualifier was stamped upon this woman because she recently married a trans-gendered person. of course, the full story is more complicated than that. it almost always is. the reason the former methodist minister married the trans-gendered person is because she was widowed by her methodist minister husband who struggled mightily with chemical depression and ultimately decided to take the short road home. Apparently, a few years into her widowhood the former methodist minister found a nurturing relationship with this trans-gendered person – according to my co-worker they both have kids, love God and are a perfect match – and they decided to make their union official. my coworker unraveled this rather confounding narrative to me because she is distressed that the trans-gendered woman, who is married to the former methodist minister, is going to take her life because she feels almost completely alienated from society and the church. apparently the pastor of the methodist congregation that the couple attends recently barred the trans-gendered individual from receiving communion and my co-worker fears that rejection might become a tipping point. confused yet? i was.
after my co-worker finished telling this story i almost trotted the one thousandth variation on the “God loves them just the way they are, but too much to leave them there” soliloquy. my co-worker knows that i am some stripe of pastor, so i felt somewhat compelled to provide the evangelical position on this issue. but i didn’t.
instead, i sat back and thought about how proud i am of my wife, who knows how important it is to love and leave it to God to judge. i hail from a culture that often sets that equation up quite differently. back home, in the spit shined buckle of the Bible belt, it often seemed like our Christian duty was not to engage homosexuals, adulterers and addicts with the love of God, but to disengage from them, lest the merest hint of their sin stain our souls. as i reflect on my experiences in that place and culture that I dearly love, it seems that we often twisted paul’s admonition to “judge those in the church,” for those who sinned outside the church were usually the objects of our snide comments or malicious disengagement, while those who “stumbled” within the church were showered with unconditional love.**
where am I going with this? places i don’t yet understand and have doubts about my ability to find.
here’s what i can tell you, one of the greatest gifts that my wife, the sinners and saints community and the emergent conversation has bestowed upon me is the ability to love others and leave the judgment to God. does this mean that i am “soft on sin?” i don’t think so. i actually take the life-threatening consequences of my sin, the shortcomings of our community and the systemic sins that plague all institutions really seriously. does this mean that i’m a proponent of trans-gendered marriage or think that the methodist pastor’s decision was completely out of bounds? i’d have to answer both questions with a slightly qualified “no.” i think the marriage issue is a really tough one because it is a referendum not only on our morality but also upon our understanding of church and state. moreover, i am quite sure that the methodist minister has struggled mightily with his decision and is probably between a denominational rock and a personal hard place.
in sum, all i’m saying is this: Jesus said that he did not come for the healthy, but the sick, not for the righteous, but the unrighteous. moreover, Jesus never side-stepped the eventuality of judgment, but he led with love.
he led with love.
i think it’s best that i follow his lead and leave the judgment to Him. and i am so deeply grateful that i have a wife, a community and a conversation that is helping me to do just that.
*her name has been changed to protect her anonymity. but rest assured, the nom de plume does reflect her incredibly unique name.
**james ault summarizes this tendency quite well in his spirit and flesh: life in a fundamentalist baptist church. if you haven’t read this volume, you should.
rear entry gentry and kevin smith clark present: office conversations that make us want to crack f&%#ing skulls
maybe it’s just us, but we think that since seinfeld signed off some eight years ago, intriguing water cooler conversation has slowly gone the way of the buffalo. seinfeld gave us so much: opportunities to replicate the contest, chortles about shrinkage, annoying new greetings…now all we’ve got is gossip about america’s damn idol and britney’s fertility.
so, lest we stalk through our offices with liquid cooled AR-15s, we would like to let you know that any conversation that starts with…
“did you watch idol last night?”
“hi, this is _______, looks like we’re playing phone tag.”
“actually, gas is five cents cheaper at…”
“moving forward..”
“can you believe this weather?”
“is it cold over there? ‘cause i’m freezing over here.”
“where are we going to grab lunch today?”
“jEFF?”
makes us want to crack fucking skulls. just though you should know.
if there are particular conversations that you want us to steer clear of, let us know. we’re big on relational reciprocity like that.
maybe it’s just us, but we think that since seinfeld signed off some eight years ago, intriguing water cooler conversation has slowly gone the way of the buffalo. seinfeld gave us so much: opportunities to replicate the contest, chortles about shrinkage, annoying new greetings…now all we’ve got is gossip about america’s damn idol and britney’s fertility.
so, lest we stalk through our offices with liquid cooled AR-15s, we would like to let you know that any conversation that starts with…
“did you watch idol last night?”
“hi, this is _______, looks like we’re playing phone tag.”
“actually, gas is five cents cheaper at…”
“moving forward..”
“can you believe this weather?”
“is it cold over there? ‘cause i’m freezing over here.”
“where are we going to grab lunch today?”
“jEFF?”
makes us want to crack fucking skulls. just though you should know.
if there are particular conversations that you want us to steer clear of, let us know. we’re big on relational reciprocity like that.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
where i muse about my mistress
as pathetic as it sounds, my greatest regret in life is failing to put it all together as a pitcher. “pitching is 90% mental.” i’ve heard that phrase so many times it has become cliché and have internalized it to such a degree that it is now dogma. i suspect that phrase, “pitching is 90% mental,” is scratched in the margins of the new covenant that has been carved on my heart. but no matter how many bullpen sessions i endured or critiques of my mechanics i absorbed i simply could not adequately reconcile my b+ arm with a f- head. i understood the concepts of pitching well enough, had carefully studied grips and schematics of mechanics in my head, but this knowledge never enabled me to pound the zone or keep my cool when i failed to do so. i think there’s a metaphor for concerning the relationship between theology and praxis in there, but i’m too tired to flesh it out.
maybe next year i’ll get in shape, cut it loose and see if a more developed head can make use of my rapidly declining ability. until then, i’ll continue to serve as a coach and ball bitch for the beverly brewers.
---------
well that was a sappy way to introduce a spankin’ new storyline. last night the brew crew had our second game, but the first one i was able to attend. although i have to admit that returning to a dugout after a ten year absence was relationally (i knew the names of 3 players before the game began) and physically (damn, these kids are big. i’ve never felt more like a pencil neck than i did last night) intimidating, after a couple of innings i was screaming at umpires and muttering imprecatory curses at my players like an old pro. good times.
here’s a sporting question for you baseball fans. if your team is getting no-hit in the bottom of the seventh and has failed to hit a single ball out of the infield all evening, do you drop a bunt down to break up the no-no?
of course, this is a theoretical question. we didn’t get no-hit last night or anything…
----------
okay, so i confessed that i’m currently the brewers ball bitch, but it’s not a responsibility that i treasure. so, if you have thirty some odd free evenings this summer, enjoy taking the shine off of brand new baseballs with a little bit of dirt and don’t mind scrambling down a rocky cliff in order to pluck game balls out of a forest bog, feel free to apply for this open position. although this is a non-paying position, it is not without benefits. our ball bitch can expect to be constantly hit upon by our hormone laden, adolescent bench warmers and so reap the fruits of a revitalized self-esteem, develop sumptuous calf muscles while scratching for balls and, after the game, receive one free drink for every three rounds that she carries to the team table at the pickled onion.
if you’re interested in this position, you’ll want to apply soon since aime is already winning the hearts of our bench warmers and has her heart set upon fraternizing with our starters.
-----------
fortunately lboros is neither a prophet, nor the son of a prophet. bonds did not hit his dinger in the first or second game of the series and did not play in the third (a lop sided affair which featured more footage of drunk fat men trying to get in and out of mccovey cove without cracking their skulls than it did of the game itself). unfortunately, albert pujols has now decided to be barry bonds’ chief advocate – he has publicly declared that he hopes bonds breaks the hammer’s record and has openly wondered whether ‘roids are really that beneficial for players – and new found chum. i have to agree with Bernie miklasz when he asserts that pujols harms his reputation by bonding with bonds.
-----------
does my incessant baseball chatter annoy people as much as american idol conversations annoy me? if I hear one more comment about kelly clarkson, wolfgang puck, and/or the startling use of a lobster, my head’s going to explode!
by the way, i now believe that american idol has usurped the WWE’s place at the bottom of the culture pool. if we ever have to deport members of our society for the purpose of population control, i think the pecking order will look thus:
a) american idol fans. sorry mom!
b) the regular viewing audience of wwe raw.
c) nascar fans. just so you know: those who have the number “3” stuck to their car windows, honored in their dead drivers memorial gardens or shaved in their hairy backs, will go first.
as pathetic as it sounds, my greatest regret in life is failing to put it all together as a pitcher. “pitching is 90% mental.” i’ve heard that phrase so many times it has become cliché and have internalized it to such a degree that it is now dogma. i suspect that phrase, “pitching is 90% mental,” is scratched in the margins of the new covenant that has been carved on my heart. but no matter how many bullpen sessions i endured or critiques of my mechanics i absorbed i simply could not adequately reconcile my b+ arm with a f- head. i understood the concepts of pitching well enough, had carefully studied grips and schematics of mechanics in my head, but this knowledge never enabled me to pound the zone or keep my cool when i failed to do so. i think there’s a metaphor for concerning the relationship between theology and praxis in there, but i’m too tired to flesh it out.
maybe next year i’ll get in shape, cut it loose and see if a more developed head can make use of my rapidly declining ability. until then, i’ll continue to serve as a coach and ball bitch for the beverly brewers.
---------
well that was a sappy way to introduce a spankin’ new storyline. last night the brew crew had our second game, but the first one i was able to attend. although i have to admit that returning to a dugout after a ten year absence was relationally (i knew the names of 3 players before the game began) and physically (damn, these kids are big. i’ve never felt more like a pencil neck than i did last night) intimidating, after a couple of innings i was screaming at umpires and muttering imprecatory curses at my players like an old pro. good times.
here’s a sporting question for you baseball fans. if your team is getting no-hit in the bottom of the seventh and has failed to hit a single ball out of the infield all evening, do you drop a bunt down to break up the no-no?
of course, this is a theoretical question. we didn’t get no-hit last night or anything…
----------
okay, so i confessed that i’m currently the brewers ball bitch, but it’s not a responsibility that i treasure. so, if you have thirty some odd free evenings this summer, enjoy taking the shine off of brand new baseballs with a little bit of dirt and don’t mind scrambling down a rocky cliff in order to pluck game balls out of a forest bog, feel free to apply for this open position. although this is a non-paying position, it is not without benefits. our ball bitch can expect to be constantly hit upon by our hormone laden, adolescent bench warmers and so reap the fruits of a revitalized self-esteem, develop sumptuous calf muscles while scratching for balls and, after the game, receive one free drink for every three rounds that she carries to the team table at the pickled onion.
if you’re interested in this position, you’ll want to apply soon since aime is already winning the hearts of our bench warmers and has her heart set upon fraternizing with our starters.
-----------
fortunately lboros is neither a prophet, nor the son of a prophet. bonds did not hit his dinger in the first or second game of the series and did not play in the third (a lop sided affair which featured more footage of drunk fat men trying to get in and out of mccovey cove without cracking their skulls than it did of the game itself). unfortunately, albert pujols has now decided to be barry bonds’ chief advocate – he has publicly declared that he hopes bonds breaks the hammer’s record and has openly wondered whether ‘roids are really that beneficial for players – and new found chum. i have to agree with Bernie miklasz when he asserts that pujols harms his reputation by bonding with bonds.
-----------
does my incessant baseball chatter annoy people as much as american idol conversations annoy me? if I hear one more comment about kelly clarkson, wolfgang puck, and/or the startling use of a lobster, my head’s going to explode!
by the way, i now believe that american idol has usurped the WWE’s place at the bottom of the culture pool. if we ever have to deport members of our society for the purpose of population control, i think the pecking order will look thus:
a) american idol fans. sorry mom!
b) the regular viewing audience of wwe raw.
c) nascar fans. just so you know: those who have the number “3” stuck to their car windows, honored in their dead drivers memorial gardens or shaved in their hairy backs, will go first.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
is lboros a prophet or a son of a prophet?
yesterday, lboros - the finest redbird writer in the blogosphere - made the following prediction:
"now comes the king of steroids, still a-questing after no. 715. he's gonna hit it against the cardinals, no question about it -- the set-up is too rich with poetic justice for him not to. what better manager for him to hit it against than the one who gave baseball's original steroid sinner, joe canseco, his first big-league job -- and presided over needle-tainted clubhouses across two decades and two franchises? and what better team for barry to inflict the indignity on than the one that witnessed the juice-fueled destruction of homerdom's other mystical number, 61?"
there is little doubt that lboros' forthtelling (or speaking truth about the present) is right on. as every book on 'roids that is worth its salt has noted, la russa is linked in a circumstantial, if not causal, way to the genesis of the steroids era.
that being said, let us hope that lboros is as shitty a foreteller as he is a spectacular forthteller. i, along with the rest of the flock, do not want to have to cringe everytime we see a poster of, or merely think about, 715.
you can read the rest of his article here.
yesterday, lboros - the finest redbird writer in the blogosphere - made the following prediction:
"now comes the king of steroids, still a-questing after no. 715. he's gonna hit it against the cardinals, no question about it -- the set-up is too rich with poetic justice for him not to. what better manager for him to hit it against than the one who gave baseball's original steroid sinner, joe canseco, his first big-league job -- and presided over needle-tainted clubhouses across two decades and two franchises? and what better team for barry to inflict the indignity on than the one that witnessed the juice-fueled destruction of homerdom's other mystical number, 61?"
there is little doubt that lboros' forthtelling (or speaking truth about the present) is right on. as every book on 'roids that is worth its salt has noted, la russa is linked in a circumstantial, if not causal, way to the genesis of the steroids era.
that being said, let us hope that lboros is as shitty a foreteller as he is a spectacular forthteller. i, along with the rest of the flock, do not want to have to cringe everytime we see a poster of, or merely think about, 715.
you can read the rest of his article here.
where you are, ain’t where you wished you would be…
over the last couple of days i’ve felt a strong leading to spend time praying over, listening to and walking the diz through the crossing, which isn’t exactly compton but is one of the rougher neighborhoods in beverly. on account of my association with bootstraps i know quite a few people, most of them kids, in the neighborhood so i usually don’t find this five block area as unsettling as some.
however, yesterday when the kids i’ve known for years either blatantly ignored the sight of me or opened with the question “what are you doing down here?,” and one of the guys that keeps his office on one of the street corners said something that suggested he was more hostile towards than interested in the diz, i realized how much of a stranger i really was. the crossing may be only six blocks from the house, but in some ways i am a complete stranger in those environs.
this feeling of displacement that clung to me like smoke made me wonder how my after school kids feel when they are bussed over to complete their homework in the damp, cool basement of the big white church. as they practice their multiplication tables with moonlighting private school teachers and receive frequent admonitions from middle class strangers such as myself do they feel as displaced as i do as i traverse their streets? moreover, when the older kids venture through the upper middle class neighborhood on the east side of town as they make their way to the beach, do they feel as alien as i do when someone pulls back their paper thin curtain to take a cursory peek?
although the few moments i have spent in the crossing as of late have been charged with internal dissonance and a strong sense of displacement, i suspect that it is in the midst of such awkward environs that God really molds me. perhaps, instead of shying away from the crossing in order to spend more time in my safe, middle class context, or, on an even more practical level, instead of intellectually, emotionally and relationally disassociating myself from my awkward and taught with tension work environment, I need to lean into these experiences and let the Spirit shape me in the midst. i have a strong, growing suspicion that it is in the midst of displacement that i’ll hear God speak, see the divergent strands start to converge and feel all of creation trembling with God’s redemption.
i don’t know…much of anything, actually. furthermore, i am far from the first to suspect or say such things. but that’s where i’m at right now.
over the last couple of days i’ve felt a strong leading to spend time praying over, listening to and walking the diz through the crossing, which isn’t exactly compton but is one of the rougher neighborhoods in beverly. on account of my association with bootstraps i know quite a few people, most of them kids, in the neighborhood so i usually don’t find this five block area as unsettling as some.
however, yesterday when the kids i’ve known for years either blatantly ignored the sight of me or opened with the question “what are you doing down here?,” and one of the guys that keeps his office on one of the street corners said something that suggested he was more hostile towards than interested in the diz, i realized how much of a stranger i really was. the crossing may be only six blocks from the house, but in some ways i am a complete stranger in those environs.
this feeling of displacement that clung to me like smoke made me wonder how my after school kids feel when they are bussed over to complete their homework in the damp, cool basement of the big white church. as they practice their multiplication tables with moonlighting private school teachers and receive frequent admonitions from middle class strangers such as myself do they feel as displaced as i do as i traverse their streets? moreover, when the older kids venture through the upper middle class neighborhood on the east side of town as they make their way to the beach, do they feel as alien as i do when someone pulls back their paper thin curtain to take a cursory peek?
although the few moments i have spent in the crossing as of late have been charged with internal dissonance and a strong sense of displacement, i suspect that it is in the midst of such awkward environs that God really molds me. perhaps, instead of shying away from the crossing in order to spend more time in my safe, middle class context, or, on an even more practical level, instead of intellectually, emotionally and relationally disassociating myself from my awkward and taught with tension work environment, I need to lean into these experiences and let the Spirit shape me in the midst. i have a strong, growing suspicion that it is in the midst of displacement that i’ll hear God speak, see the divergent strands start to converge and feel all of creation trembling with God’s redemption.
i don’t know…much of anything, actually. furthermore, i am far from the first to suspect or say such things. but that’s where i’m at right now.
Monday, May 22, 2006
overheard
commenting on the little apocalypse in matthew 24 and luke 21, n.t. wright argues that a first century Jew would know that the apocalyptic imagery in the texts related more to their immediate context than to the explosive left-behind inspired "end times," because the Jews "knew a good metaphor when they saw one." much like a first century Jew, i think a wise pastor knows a good metaphor when he sees one as well.
that’s a long way to introduce fragment of pastor david hansen’s work which really spoke to me today. i was going to scribble it in my journal instead of posting it here, but i suspect a few of you might be encouraged by it as well.
"To my surprise, the trail takes me into a hundred yards of tall, long-needled pines. The trunks measure about 12 inches in diameter. The branches are dead and broken off 20 feet up, about a third of the tree's total height. They do not look intentionally planted, neither do they look native to this eco-niche. The trees crack and creak loudly as they bend in the strong wind.
Imagine a large man in a hundred-year-old maple rocker on a hundred-year-old oak floor, and multiply the sound by a hundred trees. In 45 years of walking in the coniferous forests of the West, I've never heard anything like it. These trees are not thriving. The wood must be compromised with long fractures. Yet, they are amazingly resilient against the wind. The cracks in the trunks have undoubtedly been caused by the wind, but, ironically, they also allow the trees to survive the wind.
Thus, ministry for me.
The ministry makes the cracks, the cracks make me resilient, but the cracks make the ministry: "But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body" (2 Cor. 4:7-10). That which makes me whine and groan allows Jesus Christ to shine through my life."
you can read the rest of the article here. also, if you are interested in a fresh, whimsical and wonderfully written reconsideration of pastoral ministry, pick up hansen’s the art of pastoring: ministry without all the answers, in which he envisions the pastor’s life (and every Christian's life for that matter) as "a parable of Jesus." i’ve read the book twice and still find it riveting.
okay, back to school, back to school...
commenting on the little apocalypse in matthew 24 and luke 21, n.t. wright argues that a first century Jew would know that the apocalyptic imagery in the texts related more to their immediate context than to the explosive left-behind inspired "end times," because the Jews "knew a good metaphor when they saw one." much like a first century Jew, i think a wise pastor knows a good metaphor when he sees one as well.
that’s a long way to introduce fragment of pastor david hansen’s work which really spoke to me today. i was going to scribble it in my journal instead of posting it here, but i suspect a few of you might be encouraged by it as well.
"To my surprise, the trail takes me into a hundred yards of tall, long-needled pines. The trunks measure about 12 inches in diameter. The branches are dead and broken off 20 feet up, about a third of the tree's total height. They do not look intentionally planted, neither do they look native to this eco-niche. The trees crack and creak loudly as they bend in the strong wind.
Imagine a large man in a hundred-year-old maple rocker on a hundred-year-old oak floor, and multiply the sound by a hundred trees. In 45 years of walking in the coniferous forests of the West, I've never heard anything like it. These trees are not thriving. The wood must be compromised with long fractures. Yet, they are amazingly resilient against the wind. The cracks in the trunks have undoubtedly been caused by the wind, but, ironically, they also allow the trees to survive the wind.
Thus, ministry for me.
The ministry makes the cracks, the cracks make me resilient, but the cracks make the ministry: "But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body" (2 Cor. 4:7-10). That which makes me whine and groan allows Jesus Christ to shine through my life."
you can read the rest of the article here. also, if you are interested in a fresh, whimsical and wonderfully written reconsideration of pastoral ministry, pick up hansen’s the art of pastoring: ministry without all the answers, in which he envisions the pastor’s life (and every Christian's life for that matter) as "a parable of Jesus." i’ve read the book twice and still find it riveting.
okay, back to school, back to school...
where i get all political
just this once, let the record show that i passionately support a policy of our 44th president george w. bush. i think his immigration plan is one of the most important, forward thinking pieces of policy that a chief executive has put forth, and congress has actually considered, in years. i agree with w. when he asserts that the guest worker program will: better help us regulate the inflow of immigrant labor, reward long-term, hard working, tax paying immigrants with an opportunity to become citizens and provide the low-cost labor that a number of our industries (including service and agriculture) need to succeed.
i also believe that his plan to assign 6,000 national guard troops to augment the border patrol is a fairly meaningless move that is merely intended to mollify his base (who, somewhat absurdly, have painted this initiative as a regan-esque amnesty), but my differences with him in this area are trifling. i truly hope that this initiative navigates this way through the house of representatives and ultimately becomes law.
just this once, let the record show that i passionately support a policy of our 44th president george w. bush. i think his immigration plan is one of the most important, forward thinking pieces of policy that a chief executive has put forth, and congress has actually considered, in years. i agree with w. when he asserts that the guest worker program will: better help us regulate the inflow of immigrant labor, reward long-term, hard working, tax paying immigrants with an opportunity to become citizens and provide the low-cost labor that a number of our industries (including service and agriculture) need to succeed.
i also believe that his plan to assign 6,000 national guard troops to augment the border patrol is a fairly meaningless move that is merely intended to mollify his base (who, somewhat absurdly, have painted this initiative as a regan-esque amnesty), but my differences with him in this area are trifling. i truly hope that this initiative navigates this way through the house of representatives and ultimately becomes law.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
shit that has been making me laugh: carlos, impersonator of the cockatiels
yesterday afternoon, after introducing ourselves to beth and james maynard - the hip anglicans who are creating a neo-monastic community on mill street in beverly - kellie, james and i stopped by "the beverly wild bird and pet supply." shortly after we stepped through the front door of this small quirky shop that serves as a sort of whole foods for our animal friends, james and i found ourselves face to face with a man who we would soon come to know as carlos.
carlos wore a drab, castro inspired hat pulled down over his ears and sported some of the glassiest eyes i have seen in some time. as soon as carlos stood in front of us and locked his glassy eyes with mine, i had a feeling that we were in for quite a ride. fortunately, my immediate assumption was right.
carlos: "man, i am taking care of a whole school of animals!"
me: (wondering what kind of school would hire carlos) "is that right?"
carlos: "yeah. my wife and i have a cockatiel, two parakeet, four gerbils, three bear hamsters - we used to have fourth, but he died. i need to bury that one - and a few cats."
james: "sounds like you have a full house."
carlos: "yeah, that cockatiel, man he crazy. he follows my wife around the house like a dog (here carlos did his best impersonation of a puffed up, strutting cockatiel) and he stands at the screen snapping at the passerby and threatening to attack them."
me: "that sounds like quite a bird."
carlos: "oh yeah, he crazy. after he started hearing the baby cry - waah! waah! - he thought that was the best way to get attention. so now, when he gets angry, he screams at my wife (here carlos decided to impersonate the cockatiel yet again), waah! waah! waah!"
james and me: (while trying to avoid eye contact) "hmmm."
carlos: "yeah, man. i got to get more stuff."
at this point james and i went into the nook that featured bird accessories in order to snicker about our encounter and carlos went over to pick up some sort of grass bedding for the hamsters. as we left the nook the two of us were surprised to find ourselves, once again, face to face with carlos."
carlos: "you see this grass shit? it's good for the hamsters and - (stopping to affect his best shit-eating grin) good for the owners too! it remind me of my shit."
with this, carlos turned on his heel, walked back towards the register and put his grass on the pile. james and i avoided eye contact yet again and the shopkeeper, who was strangely non-plussed, said simply "taking care of your little friends carlos?"
my friend kevin smith clark often accuses me of being a "crazy magnet." in moments like these, i suspect that he's quite right.
yesterday afternoon, after introducing ourselves to beth and james maynard - the hip anglicans who are creating a neo-monastic community on mill street in beverly - kellie, james and i stopped by "the beverly wild bird and pet supply." shortly after we stepped through the front door of this small quirky shop that serves as a sort of whole foods for our animal friends, james and i found ourselves face to face with a man who we would soon come to know as carlos.
carlos wore a drab, castro inspired hat pulled down over his ears and sported some of the glassiest eyes i have seen in some time. as soon as carlos stood in front of us and locked his glassy eyes with mine, i had a feeling that we were in for quite a ride. fortunately, my immediate assumption was right.
carlos: "man, i am taking care of a whole school of animals!"
me: (wondering what kind of school would hire carlos) "is that right?"
carlos: "yeah. my wife and i have a cockatiel, two parakeet, four gerbils, three bear hamsters - we used to have fourth, but he died. i need to bury that one - and a few cats."
james: "sounds like you have a full house."
carlos: "yeah, that cockatiel, man he crazy. he follows my wife around the house like a dog (here carlos did his best impersonation of a puffed up, strutting cockatiel) and he stands at the screen snapping at the passerby and threatening to attack them."
me: "that sounds like quite a bird."
carlos: "oh yeah, he crazy. after he started hearing the baby cry - waah! waah! - he thought that was the best way to get attention. so now, when he gets angry, he screams at my wife (here carlos decided to impersonate the cockatiel yet again), waah! waah! waah!"
james and me: (while trying to avoid eye contact) "hmmm."
carlos: "yeah, man. i got to get more stuff."
at this point james and i went into the nook that featured bird accessories in order to snicker about our encounter and carlos went over to pick up some sort of grass bedding for the hamsters. as we left the nook the two of us were surprised to find ourselves, once again, face to face with carlos."
carlos: "you see this grass shit? it's good for the hamsters and - (stopping to affect his best shit-eating grin) good for the owners too! it remind me of my shit."
with this, carlos turned on his heel, walked back towards the register and put his grass on the pile. james and i avoided eye contact yet again and the shopkeeper, who was strangely non-plussed, said simply "taking care of your little friends carlos?"
my friend kevin smith clark often accuses me of being a "crazy magnet." in moments like these, i suspect that he's quite right.
Friday, May 19, 2006
rear-entry gentry and kevin smith clark proclaim no veni, no vidi, no da vinci day!
after long hours of deliberation and passionate prayer, we are have decided to join barbara nicolosi’s courageous other-cott of the da vinci code. tonight we are planning on enjoying our own apocalyptic film festival before heading out to protest this anti-Christ on celluloid. our flyers are going to list the following reasons that good, God-fearing moviegoers should othercott the code. feel free to add additional points to our persuasive list.
1. tom hanks is a cross dressing pervert
2. joni loved jesus even more than chachi and richie rejected her gospel
3. we refuse to support the gay gandalf with our ticket sales
4. albino monks are almost as sketchy as that devil's baby
5. we're both oblates of opus dei
6. we’re protesting the 10 foot high fence ron howard has erected in hopes keeping original scripts out of imagine entertainment
7. we’re still pissed about hanks and that fedex package in cast away (you know there was fishing line and matches in that shit)
8. screenwriter akiva goldsman is still responsible for the homoerotic carnivale that was batman & robin
9. we’ve long suspected that mona lisa is a lesbian
10. we’ll be damned if jesus’ actual decedents were the dirty, liberal French
11. we refuse to participate in a world wherein paul bettany gets to bed jennifer connelly (that's like kelli kapowski having screech's love child)
12. there’s no way this code is better than the omega code
after long hours of deliberation and passionate prayer, we are have decided to join barbara nicolosi’s courageous other-cott of the da vinci code. tonight we are planning on enjoying our own apocalyptic film festival before heading out to protest this anti-Christ on celluloid. our flyers are going to list the following reasons that good, God-fearing moviegoers should othercott the code. feel free to add additional points to our persuasive list.
1. tom hanks is a cross dressing pervert
2. joni loved jesus even more than chachi and richie rejected her gospel
3. we refuse to support the gay gandalf with our ticket sales
4. albino monks are almost as sketchy as that devil's baby
5. we're both oblates of opus dei
6. we’re protesting the 10 foot high fence ron howard has erected in hopes keeping original scripts out of imagine entertainment
7. we’re still pissed about hanks and that fedex package in cast away (you know there was fishing line and matches in that shit)
8. screenwriter akiva goldsman is still responsible for the homoerotic carnivale that was batman & robin
9. we’ve long suspected that mona lisa is a lesbian
10. we’ll be damned if jesus’ actual decedents were the dirty, liberal French
11. we refuse to participate in a world wherein paul bettany gets to bed jennifer connelly (that's like kelli kapowski having screech's love child)
12. there’s no way this code is better than the omega code
Thursday, May 18, 2006
musing…
the further i follow jesus down this road of discipleship the more i realize it is the subtle epiphanies and reconciled relationships that keep me going. it’s not that ecstatic experiences of God’s presence or those moments where i’ve been surprised by his providence are unimportant. i’ve received a vision or two that required an immediate response and on at least one occasion the precariously stacked consequences of my shitty decisions literally compelled a conversion. but although those experiences set me free to wander in this wilderness they have not been my bread for the journey. rather, the latter has been provided by bitter enemies who have become my beloved, stumbling back into practices that probably wouldn’t “preach,” but sustain my soul and even the unexpected smile of a stranger on the street.
i realize that God can manifest himself in miraculous ways and am not indifferent to the major movements of the Spirit. but today i give thanks for the subtle and simple things that help me keep on keepin’ on.
the further i follow jesus down this road of discipleship the more i realize it is the subtle epiphanies and reconciled relationships that keep me going. it’s not that ecstatic experiences of God’s presence or those moments where i’ve been surprised by his providence are unimportant. i’ve received a vision or two that required an immediate response and on at least one occasion the precariously stacked consequences of my shitty decisions literally compelled a conversion. but although those experiences set me free to wander in this wilderness they have not been my bread for the journey. rather, the latter has been provided by bitter enemies who have become my beloved, stumbling back into practices that probably wouldn’t “preach,” but sustain my soul and even the unexpected smile of a stranger on the street.
i realize that God can manifest himself in miraculous ways and am not indifferent to the major movements of the Spirit. but today i give thanks for the subtle and simple things that help me keep on keepin’ on.
Monday, May 15, 2006
musing...
years ago, in a rare moment of insight, i posed a question to professor windham. "why," i openly wondered, "hasn't anyone rebuked my sinful idolatry of independance and called me to a life of dependance?" "i suppose," he replied, "that is a lesson you have to learn yourself." i understood his answer, but was frustrated with the implications, for i doubted dependance was something i could learn from a book.
although the latter assumption was correct, i lucked out by finding a wonderful pedagogue in l'arche. the community at l'arche taught me to: seek the spirituality of cleaning toilets (i still find it easier to connect with God when i am scrubbing toilets than when i am sitting in a pew), search for the charism (or unique gift) in the other and discover that it is in serving the least that our own needs are finally served. after serving at l'arche for two months, they asked me to extend my stay to two years. i seriously considered staying, but ultimately chose to return to the states for seminary at the South Hamilton Institute of Theology.
it was the biggest mistake of my life.
i exchanged life in a community that was teaching me the way of Jesus for an institution that was committed to teaching me about Jesus. i cannot tell you how many hours i have spent lamenting this decision.
but God is gracious.
i was reminded of the latter fact as Anita (our wonderful housemate) and i sat in our basement and discussed the mission of the church, the mysterious ways of the Kingdom and our hopes for our little community's future while the bio-diesel processor did its thing. somwhere in the midst of our rambling yet reverent conversation, i mentioned to Anita that living in the context of community has taught me more about the gospel of Jesus than any class in seminary ever did, for the community is constantly: challenging me to release my idol of space so that i can welcome outsiders with open hands, reminding me that listening is one of the primary arts of leadership and teaching me how to adequately share and appropriate the resources that God has given me.
over the past three and a half years, i've helped plant and provide leadership to a ragamuffin collection of sinners and saints that is constantly seeking to listen to God's Word, celebrate his sacraments and incarnate his compassion and love throughout the world...and i'm so proud of our church and glad that God has let me be a part of it. however, i'm beginning to wonder whether living in the context of an interdependant community that is learning to love God, love one another and spread God's love throughout our community is the most important thing i, scratch that, we, will ever do.
so thanks for listening and responding to my question professor windham. i'm still trying to learn.
years ago, in a rare moment of insight, i posed a question to professor windham. "why," i openly wondered, "hasn't anyone rebuked my sinful idolatry of independance and called me to a life of dependance?" "i suppose," he replied, "that is a lesson you have to learn yourself." i understood his answer, but was frustrated with the implications, for i doubted dependance was something i could learn from a book.
although the latter assumption was correct, i lucked out by finding a wonderful pedagogue in l'arche. the community at l'arche taught me to: seek the spirituality of cleaning toilets (i still find it easier to connect with God when i am scrubbing toilets than when i am sitting in a pew), search for the charism (or unique gift) in the other and discover that it is in serving the least that our own needs are finally served. after serving at l'arche for two months, they asked me to extend my stay to two years. i seriously considered staying, but ultimately chose to return to the states for seminary at the South Hamilton Institute of Theology.
it was the biggest mistake of my life.
i exchanged life in a community that was teaching me the way of Jesus for an institution that was committed to teaching me about Jesus. i cannot tell you how many hours i have spent lamenting this decision.
but God is gracious.
i was reminded of the latter fact as Anita (our wonderful housemate) and i sat in our basement and discussed the mission of the church, the mysterious ways of the Kingdom and our hopes for our little community's future while the bio-diesel processor did its thing. somwhere in the midst of our rambling yet reverent conversation, i mentioned to Anita that living in the context of community has taught me more about the gospel of Jesus than any class in seminary ever did, for the community is constantly: challenging me to release my idol of space so that i can welcome outsiders with open hands, reminding me that listening is one of the primary arts of leadership and teaching me how to adequately share and appropriate the resources that God has given me.
over the past three and a half years, i've helped plant and provide leadership to a ragamuffin collection of sinners and saints that is constantly seeking to listen to God's Word, celebrate his sacraments and incarnate his compassion and love throughout the world...and i'm so proud of our church and glad that God has let me be a part of it. however, i'm beginning to wonder whether living in the context of an interdependant community that is learning to love God, love one another and spread God's love throughout our community is the most important thing i, scratch that, we, will ever do.
so thanks for listening and responding to my question professor windham. i'm still trying to learn.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
good night, sweet prince
there’s no doubt about it. in the t-town of my youth woodland hills mall was the king and eastland was a lowly prince.
when given a choice, my gang would rather roam the cavernous halls of woodland, which featured a first rate arcade (a little afterburner anyone?), cool smoking pits and hotter hot dog on a stick chicks. but since our homes were situated in eastland’s realm, our parents were often more amenable to dropping us off there.
it’s funny. although i pretty much worshipped woodland and worked for no less than five of its fine establishments (and was even fired by a few), most of my memories are of eastland. it was at eastland’s unrivaled regis hair salon that i submitted to the horrific “body wave perm” and it was the basement level general cinema location that i indulged in my first makeout movie (robin hood: prince of thieves, if you must ask, and no, i don’t remember the girl’s name), endured the worst sequel in the history of film (major league 2. i still remember walking out of the theater, hating omar epps and wondering why they had to make it into a kid’s movie) and got my first glimpse of the tribulation all of those redneck revivalists were always going on about (i still believe terminator 2 was the primary impetus behind my conversion). at eastland we bought cassette tape singles of “every little step,” rummaged through claire’s $1 button bin, finally got our hands on those air jordans everyone was raving about and, yes, bought our oversized chicago bulls starter jackets. even at the time we realized that eastland was a dirt mall, but it was our dirt mall where our middle class, sears and roebuck sportin’ asses could find refuge from the upper middle class pretensions of woodland hills.
why am i telling you this? because i just recently received news that the prince is dead. after a decade of receding sales, decaying storefronts and the heartless defection of hot dog on a stick simon properties has sold my mall to a heartless California developer who is likely to do 1 of 3 things: bulldoze it, re-develop it into an office park or turn it into a spanish language satellite campus for willie george church.
if i was a gambling man, i’d bet on the office park. but in my heart of hearts I hope it becomes a second home for willie george, for, when the revivalist’s apocalyptic dreams finally come true the signature towers will make a perfect perch for the two false prophets and the fabulous fabric covered roof will make a soft landing spot for the whore and her dragon.
for yet another fitting eulogy to eastland, visit deadmalls.com.
for additional pictures of my fast fading youth, peruse the snapshots at lost tulsa.
there’s no doubt about it. in the t-town of my youth woodland hills mall was the king and eastland was a lowly prince.
when given a choice, my gang would rather roam the cavernous halls of woodland, which featured a first rate arcade (a little afterburner anyone?), cool smoking pits and hotter hot dog on a stick chicks. but since our homes were situated in eastland’s realm, our parents were often more amenable to dropping us off there.
it’s funny. although i pretty much worshipped woodland and worked for no less than five of its fine establishments (and was even fired by a few), most of my memories are of eastland. it was at eastland’s unrivaled regis hair salon that i submitted to the horrific “body wave perm” and it was the basement level general cinema location that i indulged in my first makeout movie (robin hood: prince of thieves, if you must ask, and no, i don’t remember the girl’s name), endured the worst sequel in the history of film (major league 2. i still remember walking out of the theater, hating omar epps and wondering why they had to make it into a kid’s movie) and got my first glimpse of the tribulation all of those redneck revivalists were always going on about (i still believe terminator 2 was the primary impetus behind my conversion). at eastland we bought cassette tape singles of “every little step,” rummaged through claire’s $1 button bin, finally got our hands on those air jordans everyone was raving about and, yes, bought our oversized chicago bulls starter jackets. even at the time we realized that eastland was a dirt mall, but it was our dirt mall where our middle class, sears and roebuck sportin’ asses could find refuge from the upper middle class pretensions of woodland hills.
why am i telling you this? because i just recently received news that the prince is dead. after a decade of receding sales, decaying storefronts and the heartless defection of hot dog on a stick simon properties has sold my mall to a heartless California developer who is likely to do 1 of 3 things: bulldoze it, re-develop it into an office park or turn it into a spanish language satellite campus for willie george church.
if i was a gambling man, i’d bet on the office park. but in my heart of hearts I hope it becomes a second home for willie george, for, when the revivalist’s apocalyptic dreams finally come true the signature towers will make a perfect perch for the two false prophets and the fabulous fabric covered roof will make a soft landing spot for the whore and her dragon.
for yet another fitting eulogy to eastland, visit deadmalls.com.
for additional pictures of my fast fading youth, peruse the snapshots at lost tulsa.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
rear-entry gentry and kevin smith clark present: the mid-morning time waster
after failing to successfully complete his amazing underwater endeavor, david blaine is desperate to create another scene of extreme deprivation. since “deprivation dave” is currently soliciting creative submissions concerning his next stunt, we would like to challenge him to:
1. try and survive for two whole weeks as an innocent Iraqi citizen.
2. gamble his finances and psychological health by attempting to build a successful budweiser distributorship in salt lake city.
3. survive for six whole months in the rural south without making a single visit to wal-mart.
4. run the Yankees on a $50 million dollar payroll
5. . abstain from masturbating to pictures of anton lavey or david copperfield for one month.
6. make barry bonds' "cream" and "clear" disappear.
7. reunite pink floyd for a world tour...'cause live 8 made us tear up...
8. listen to larry the cable guy, non-stop, for one week. if he can't sack up for that, we’re willing to substitute hanson.
if you have other creative submissions, please know that we are willing to listen.
after failing to successfully complete his amazing underwater endeavor, david blaine is desperate to create another scene of extreme deprivation. since “deprivation dave” is currently soliciting creative submissions concerning his next stunt, we would like to challenge him to:
1. try and survive for two whole weeks as an innocent Iraqi citizen.
2. gamble his finances and psychological health by attempting to build a successful budweiser distributorship in salt lake city.
3. survive for six whole months in the rural south without making a single visit to wal-mart.
4. run the Yankees on a $50 million dollar payroll
5. . abstain from masturbating to pictures of anton lavey or david copperfield for one month.
6. make barry bonds' "cream" and "clear" disappear.
7. reunite pink floyd for a world tour...'cause live 8 made us tear up...
8. listen to larry the cable guy, non-stop, for one week. if he can't sack up for that, we’re willing to substitute hanson.
if you have other creative submissions, please know that we are willing to listen.
Monday, May 08, 2006
hey fans, it's time for tonight's aflac trivia question
in one of his most recent articles, noted seamhead scribe ken rosenthal completely slams royals owner david glass. among the charges he levies against glass is that he:
a) reaps tens of millions in mlb subsidies that he hoards for himself
b) promotes unskilled, yet eager employees into marquee administrative posts instead of paying the asking price of experts
c) fails to offer young players what they are worth, leading draftees to ignore the royals and budding stars to lust for their relase
can you guess which major fortune 500 company glass served as CEO?
in one of his most recent articles, noted seamhead scribe ken rosenthal completely slams royals owner david glass. among the charges he levies against glass is that he:
a) reaps tens of millions in mlb subsidies that he hoards for himself
b) promotes unskilled, yet eager employees into marquee administrative posts instead of paying the asking price of experts
c) fails to offer young players what they are worth, leading draftees to ignore the royals and budding stars to lust for their relase
can you guess which major fortune 500 company glass served as CEO?
if you're interested...
in ecclesiological questions and thoroughly shady theology, check out my recent post on the boston cohort page.
in ecclesiological questions and thoroughly shady theology, check out my recent post on the boston cohort page.
overheard...
last week, over on the monts blog, we had a number of interesting coversations about the value of christian music, the unintended consequences of pre-emptive war and the aesthetics of j-lo's ass. as you might suppose, each conversation was quite provacative.
last night, while tooling around on 7Ball.com, i read an intriguing interview with derek webb. in the midst of his interview, derek offers a Christian approach to pre-emption, skewers christian music and talks about a number of additional things besides. i have posted a couple of his talking points below, but don't let that discourage you from reading the whole interview. derek is one of the few celebrity christians who is constantly questioning, committed to provocation and always in process. thus, in my humble opinion, he is the most intriguing christian celebrity since rich mullins.
also, while you're over at 7Ball be sure to read b-low on the davinci code. anyway, on with the quotes.
"Don’t let your local Christian bookstore do your thinking for you and believe that everything they have there for sale is good and spiritually beneficial to you. If anything, we have proven that the Church unfortunately is identified with really poor art. The Church certainly does not have the market cornered on beauty. A lot of what we do is not very beautiful. The art we make is not very good. A lot of the songs I have heard on Christian radio are just outright misrepresentations of the character of God.
I think you have to learn to discern and look elsewhere and say, “I need to learn how to engage with a God everywhere I can find truth and beauty, regardless of the intention of the maker of that art.” I really believe that is a more biblical worldview. It also keeps us from being people who live in fear. There is no room for living in fear. There is no reason to be afraid. There is no reason to be fearful of secular music. We should learn how to chew on the meat, spit out the bones, to discern the truth and beauty, to commend that rather than to be just completely fearful and put all our security in these categories that don’t mean anything. It’s a dangerous way to live."
------------------------------------------------------------
"How do you proclaim a kingdom with no war? You say there are alternatives. We should be people of peace. We can fight for peace. We can be pre-emptive about peace as much as our nation is talking about our pre-emption about war. Africa is a perfect example of how you do that. How do you fight for peace? How do you represent the Prince of Peace in our culture? You think ahead. You plan ahead. You get creative.
There are opportunities where we can go and care for and make friends and neighbors out of people who could potentially be our enemies for the war of the future. That is the job of the Christian. Where you see people are hungry, put food in their mouth. That’s how you proclaim a kingdom where there will be no hunger. I really believe that that is a major part of the Gospel."
last week, over on the monts blog, we had a number of interesting coversations about the value of christian music, the unintended consequences of pre-emptive war and the aesthetics of j-lo's ass. as you might suppose, each conversation was quite provacative.
last night, while tooling around on 7Ball.com, i read an intriguing interview with derek webb. in the midst of his interview, derek offers a Christian approach to pre-emption, skewers christian music and talks about a number of additional things besides. i have posted a couple of his talking points below, but don't let that discourage you from reading the whole interview. derek is one of the few celebrity christians who is constantly questioning, committed to provocation and always in process. thus, in my humble opinion, he is the most intriguing christian celebrity since rich mullins.
also, while you're over at 7Ball be sure to read b-low on the davinci code. anyway, on with the quotes.
"Don’t let your local Christian bookstore do your thinking for you and believe that everything they have there for sale is good and spiritually beneficial to you. If anything, we have proven that the Church unfortunately is identified with really poor art. The Church certainly does not have the market cornered on beauty. A lot of what we do is not very beautiful. The art we make is not very good. A lot of the songs I have heard on Christian radio are just outright misrepresentations of the character of God.
I think you have to learn to discern and look elsewhere and say, “I need to learn how to engage with a God everywhere I can find truth and beauty, regardless of the intention of the maker of that art.” I really believe that is a more biblical worldview. It also keeps us from being people who live in fear. There is no room for living in fear. There is no reason to be afraid. There is no reason to be fearful of secular music. We should learn how to chew on the meat, spit out the bones, to discern the truth and beauty, to commend that rather than to be just completely fearful and put all our security in these categories that don’t mean anything. It’s a dangerous way to live."
------------------------------------------------------------
"How do you proclaim a kingdom with no war? You say there are alternatives. We should be people of peace. We can fight for peace. We can be pre-emptive about peace as much as our nation is talking about our pre-emption about war. Africa is a perfect example of how you do that. How do you fight for peace? How do you represent the Prince of Peace in our culture? You think ahead. You plan ahead. You get creative.
There are opportunities where we can go and care for and make friends and neighbors out of people who could potentially be our enemies for the war of the future. That is the job of the Christian. Where you see people are hungry, put food in their mouth. That’s how you proclaim a kingdom where there will be no hunger. I really believe that that is a major part of the Gospel."
Friday, May 05, 2006
link-o-rama
a few moments ago, i thrashed up a stream-of-consciousness post for boston’s emergent cohort site. if you’re a churchy type you might want to check it out.
i’ve also found myself returning time and again to the monts blog and leadership journal’s out of ur site lately. both of these sites consistently introduce interesting topics and effectively incite conversation. if you’re a churchy type who has a few moments to spare you might want to check these out as well.
a few moments ago, i thrashed up a stream-of-consciousness post for boston’s emergent cohort site. if you’re a churchy type you might want to check it out.
i’ve also found myself returning time and again to the monts blog and leadership journal’s out of ur site lately. both of these sites consistently introduce interesting topics and effectively incite conversation. if you’re a churchy type who has a few moments to spare you might want to check these out as well.
you know the kind of guy who does bad stuff all the time and then wonders why his life sucks?
last night, after wondering why microsoft has to interrupt the best work related sitcom of all time with advertisements for business software, i thought a little bit about earl’s list. i don’t know about you, but during the earl’s intro every week i focus on the quick glimpse we have of the list in hopes that it will reveal clues to future plots (for the record, "stole a car from a one legged girl" was my favorite). last night’s glimpse was too quick to reveal any clues, but it did get me thinking about what would be on my list. i suspect that if karma decides to kick my ass, it will be for one or all of the following reasons.
1. stole $6,500 in aluminum cans from handicapped kids and then escaped acquittal
2. dumped a girl at the airport while waiting for our connecting flight
3. ransacked a unsuspecting dorm mate’s room and exposed his secret stash of panty hose
4. offered a free “cockroach julius” to an unsuspecting customer
5. threw a chair at my unsuspecting, insecure music teacher
what's on your list?
last night, after wondering why microsoft has to interrupt the best work related sitcom of all time with advertisements for business software, i thought a little bit about earl’s list. i don’t know about you, but during the earl’s intro every week i focus on the quick glimpse we have of the list in hopes that it will reveal clues to future plots (for the record, "stole a car from a one legged girl" was my favorite). last night’s glimpse was too quick to reveal any clues, but it did get me thinking about what would be on my list. i suspect that if karma decides to kick my ass, it will be for one or all of the following reasons.
1. stole $6,500 in aluminum cans from handicapped kids and then escaped acquittal
2. dumped a girl at the airport while waiting for our connecting flight
3. ransacked a unsuspecting dorm mate’s room and exposed his secret stash of panty hose
4. offered a free “cockroach julius” to an unsuspecting customer
5. threw a chair at my unsuspecting, insecure music teacher
what's on your list?
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
the prospect
on blazing summer days
barefoot on burnt grass
they celebrated a mundane ritual
father and son playing catch
furious with concentration
the boy focused on the glove and let it fly
but as the seams ripped the distance between them
the pitch often strayed low, wide or high
confounded by ability
that consistently alluded control
the boy felt like a touted prospect
who could never crack the show
after years perched on pine
the boy found the failure he feared
but he’s still fumbling with his grip
and looking for control after all these years
on blazing summer days
barefoot on burnt grass
they celebrated a mundane ritual
father and son playing catch
furious with concentration
the boy focused on the glove and let it fly
but as the seams ripped the distance between them
the pitch often strayed low, wide or high
confounded by ability
that consistently alluded control
the boy felt like a touted prospect
who could never crack the show
after years perched on pine
the boy found the failure he feared
but he’s still fumbling with his grip
and looking for control after all these years
Monday, May 01, 2006
concerning charism and calling
jean vanier believes that the purpose of a l’arche assistant is to identify the gift of each member of the community and serve each member of the community as they struggle to give birth to their gift and so enter into new life. vanier also believes that in the midst of encouraging, challenging and even coercing new life out of his fellow members, the assistant will be surprised to find that he is being pushed and pulled into new life as well.
anyway, that’s what vanier thinks.
and i think he’s right.
i suspect that it’s time for me to set aside my own search for vocation so that i can once serve as an effective midwife to each member of my community.
i hope that i’m setting myself up for a surprise.
jean vanier believes that the purpose of a l’arche assistant is to identify the gift of each member of the community and serve each member of the community as they struggle to give birth to their gift and so enter into new life. vanier also believes that in the midst of encouraging, challenging and even coercing new life out of his fellow members, the assistant will be surprised to find that he is being pushed and pulled into new life as well.
anyway, that’s what vanier thinks.
and i think he’s right.
i suspect that it’s time for me to set aside my own search for vocation so that i can once serve as an effective midwife to each member of my community.
i hope that i’m setting myself up for a surprise.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
overheard on aaron's blog
"Whenever I meet a Buddhist leader, I meet a holy man. Whenever I meet a Christian leader, I meet a manager." ~ Os Guiness, quoting a Japanese businessman
"Whenever I meet a Buddhist leader, I meet a holy man. Whenever I meet a Christian leader, I meet a manager." ~ Os Guiness, quoting a Japanese businessman
my life as a bishop kelley butt pirate
if you know me well, you’re aware that i don’t dance, deplore karaoke and absolutely refuse to dress up for halloween. i don’t hate people who participate in these activities, but have little interest in sharing such experiences. i figure that i make enough of an ass out of myself by constantly interjecting opinions and liberally spewing sarcastic commentary. i don’t need to further offend the world with yet another piss poor rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody.
but, on occasion, i have participated in incredibly foolish, exhibitionist activities such as drunken skinny dipping in the seminary pool and participating in the last ride of the bishop kelley butt pirates. i remember the former experience fondly and do not harbor any regrets. but I count the latter experience was one of the finest of my high school years.
on a warm, may afternoon in the year 1995 i stripped down to BVDs, wrapped a black patch around my left eye, picked up a super soaker filled with various ingredients and mounted my eight year old huffy. in the moments before the raid on sunny, rain soaked bishop kelley campus, i trembled with fear. but when blaine, our swash buckling, g-string swaddled, fearless leader, lifted his sword i eagerly joined in the charge.
over the next five glorious minutes i upended unwitting freshmen as well as their books, was violently dismounted by a burly, neolithic junior and, in a moment of daring and bravado that is still eagerly recounted by the pirates who have followed, completely douched brother richard by skidding my bike and hurtling my body into a full, foul puddle of water. our last ride was so dashing, daring and hopelessly homoerotic that i am finding it hard to reduce it to words.
last night, adrift in a sea of sleep, i recounted our glorious ride. i reflected fondly upon torturing freshman, spraying the school debutantes with my own piss and briefly dethroning brother richard. when i awoke, i was filled with pride concerning the butt pirate’s last ride and felt emboldened to make a fool of myself once again.
but on second thought, maybe not.
if you know me well, you’re aware that i don’t dance, deplore karaoke and absolutely refuse to dress up for halloween. i don’t hate people who participate in these activities, but have little interest in sharing such experiences. i figure that i make enough of an ass out of myself by constantly interjecting opinions and liberally spewing sarcastic commentary. i don’t need to further offend the world with yet another piss poor rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody.
but, on occasion, i have participated in incredibly foolish, exhibitionist activities such as drunken skinny dipping in the seminary pool and participating in the last ride of the bishop kelley butt pirates. i remember the former experience fondly and do not harbor any regrets. but I count the latter experience was one of the finest of my high school years.
on a warm, may afternoon in the year 1995 i stripped down to BVDs, wrapped a black patch around my left eye, picked up a super soaker filled with various ingredients and mounted my eight year old huffy. in the moments before the raid on sunny, rain soaked bishop kelley campus, i trembled with fear. but when blaine, our swash buckling, g-string swaddled, fearless leader, lifted his sword i eagerly joined in the charge.
over the next five glorious minutes i upended unwitting freshmen as well as their books, was violently dismounted by a burly, neolithic junior and, in a moment of daring and bravado that is still eagerly recounted by the pirates who have followed, completely douched brother richard by skidding my bike and hurtling my body into a full, foul puddle of water. our last ride was so dashing, daring and hopelessly homoerotic that i am finding it hard to reduce it to words.
last night, adrift in a sea of sleep, i recounted our glorious ride. i reflected fondly upon torturing freshman, spraying the school debutantes with my own piss and briefly dethroning brother richard. when i awoke, i was filled with pride concerning the butt pirate’s last ride and felt emboldened to make a fool of myself once again.
but on second thought, maybe not.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
musing…
so i’ve really been in the shit lately. occupational angst and transitions in my personal life have left me in a precarious and uncertain place. i’m constantly fumbling with questions such as:
why can’t you find contentment in serving Christ at the SS? is massaging your own ego keeping you from appreciating God’s provision?
what’s keeping you from investing your days in something more meaningful? is education your hindrance or insecurity?
will this wound i received from a former mentor and friend ever heal?
but the question that’s really cooked my noodle is “why don’t you stop trying to build an institution and start truly following Jesus?” of course, this question has led to a host of additional questions about whether my inclination to build a church is really, at some subtle level, an attempt to evade some of the more stringent demands of discipleship. for instance, i find it far easier to sit and muse about the mission of our church and how we can support and share the mission of other churches than i find it to listen carefully to, and thereby love, my difficult co-worker. in addition, i suspect that setting my sights on and sometimes lusting for ministerial success is a means of reducing the exceedingly, abundantly incredible demands of Jesus (“be ye perfect,” anyone?) to a more manageable size.
so that’s where i’m at. i’m not begging for tea and sympathy, much less inquiring for answers. i just wanted to let you know where i’m at.
so i’ve really been in the shit lately. occupational angst and transitions in my personal life have left me in a precarious and uncertain place. i’m constantly fumbling with questions such as:
why can’t you find contentment in serving Christ at the SS? is massaging your own ego keeping you from appreciating God’s provision?
what’s keeping you from investing your days in something more meaningful? is education your hindrance or insecurity?
will this wound i received from a former mentor and friend ever heal?
but the question that’s really cooked my noodle is “why don’t you stop trying to build an institution and start truly following Jesus?” of course, this question has led to a host of additional questions about whether my inclination to build a church is really, at some subtle level, an attempt to evade some of the more stringent demands of discipleship. for instance, i find it far easier to sit and muse about the mission of our church and how we can support and share the mission of other churches than i find it to listen carefully to, and thereby love, my difficult co-worker. in addition, i suspect that setting my sights on and sometimes lusting for ministerial success is a means of reducing the exceedingly, abundantly incredible demands of Jesus (“be ye perfect,” anyone?) to a more manageable size.
so that’s where i’m at. i’m not begging for tea and sympathy, much less inquiring for answers. i just wanted to let you know where i’m at.
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