Robert Pelfrey

Bullseye!

2011-10-18T09:43:00.000-05:00

The source of discontent and anxiety, of struggle and fear and much evil is a matter of centeredness (i.e. the lack thereof)--specifically centeredness in the authority of the God who is Love.

On the other hand, contentedness and confidence and peace and assurance and even righteousness and justification are found in the center, in trusting in and living for the authority of God as loving Sovereign and caring, nurturing Father.

"In what did the humility of Jesus consist? Low self-esteem, feelings of unworthiness, disappointment with his spiritual progress? Absurd! He was enthralled with his Father. In utter self-forgetfulness, he lived for God. The central theme in his personal life was the growing intimacy with, trust in, and love of his Abba. He lived securely in his Father's acceptance.

"'As the Father has loved me so have I loved you' (Jn. 15:9), he reassures us. Jesus' inner life was centered in God. His communion with his Abba transformed his vision of reality, enabling him to perceive divine love toward sinners and scalawags. Jesus did not live from himself or for himself but from the graciousness of the Other, who is incomprehensibly caring. He understood his Father's compassionate heart." --Brennan Manning, Ruthless Trust

This is the mark we are missing when we sin. Not that there are "do's" we failed at or "don'ts" that we did, like naughty school-children trying to win the favor of our teacher. The mark we are missing is centeredness in the authority of our loving, caring Father who is Lord and King of heaven and earth. We move from centeredness in God's authority to care for our lives, to guide us and empower us and provide for us. We move from centeredness in God's authority to have a plan--a loving plan--for all the world, for the lives around us. And we move from his invitation and empowerment for us to participate in realizing that plan.

In short, sin is not living in that bullseye that is life from and for God, not basing life on enthrallment with Abba and his love. In the end, what else is there? We find all manner of distracting targets and we shoot ourselves off in many different directions. Then we wonder why we're lost, why we can't find love, why we can't find God. But direction, love, and God are right where they've always been--right there at the center of it all, at the heart of the matter...of all that matters.

Jesus the Bomb

2011-10-06T12:36:00.001-05:00

The first verses of John's Gospel are like an atomic bomb going off in the middle of history:

"The Word was God...
Through him all things were made...
In him was life...the light of all people...
To all who received him he gave the right and power to become children of God...
The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us...
Out of his fullness we have all received grace...Grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.
No one has ever seen God, but the one and only Son, who is himself God and is in closest relationship with the Father, has made him known."
***BOOM!***

All else is just fallout from that explosion, either colliding with and being consumed by its glorious, holy radiance, or straining to slink off and put down roots in the shadows. But the darkness cannot comprehend--could never overcome--the sun of righteousness rising with healing in its wings.

And what of the children, the little ones who have thrown open the windows of their lives to bathe in the grace and truth? They are nothing less than sons and daughters of God, brothers and sisters of that atomic-bomb-of-a-Son. They are becoming one with the wind and fire of God's Spirit, making each little child another explosion in history as the kingdom of light pours into the fractures of the cowering kingdom of darkness. That's you. That's me. Out of his fullness we have all received grace.

The Monarch

2011-09-29T14:14:00.001-05:00

All these Monarch butterflies are graceful, autumn-colored reminders to let the Wind of God move us as he pleases. It is for his good pleasure that all has been made, including us. And it pleases our Father to give the kingdom to his little ones.

Why do we ever doubt such a Creator, who wants nothing but our good--more good than we can ever desire or create for ourselves? Yet we wrestle and insist that we know better, that we can do better. Fear sometimes drives us--sometimes pride, certainly doubt. But it's always the case that we don't even know what to desire, much less how to get it. We don't know how to take a punch. We don't know how to die.

But the Wind moves. Not an impersonal force, but the very Breath of God filling our blackening spiritual lungs with nothing less than God himself. We are to be one. This circumstance, that challenge, this opportunity, that intersection of our dreams and God's plans. If we will move with the Wind--through, around, within, above--we will experience it all...or at least enough. If we resist, we are grasping and punching...at the Wind. Much better to fly--like the Monarch.

Time to Slow Down

2011-06-30T08:58:00.000-05:00

My family and I are going on vacation. It’s time to slow down and notice things. That seems to be what summer is about. Those Gershwin brothers got it right: Summertime, and the livin’ is easy. The smell of mowed grass and barbecue, the feel of the sun’s warmth, the glorious sight of baseball under a blue sky, these are a few of my favorite things! Whether packing in as many vacation experiences as possible or just sitting on the porch watching the sun go down each evening, summertime is an annual reminder to experience life. It is a time when we let life happen, rather than trying to force it into our own daily constraints.

Typically, the worst part of summer vacation is that it ends. So, here are a few summer ideas that might work in autumn, winter, and spring.

1) Let life happen. Make plans and work hard, but enjoy the passage of time.

2) Rest. A key about summer is that it seems to give us permission to relax, but God already gave us not just permission, but a command to rest. After all, he did!

3) Notice things. Each season has its own sights and sounds and smells that are the stuff of life. Make time to take it all in.

4) Enjoy loved ones. Family reunions, cookouts, ballgames, and vacations don’t have to end with the summer. Whatever it is, it should be shared with the people we love.

5) Worship. God made all of these seasons for his glory and to enrich our lives with their beauty and the lessons they can teach about living more faithfully in the process of life, death, and resurrection.

And right now it’s summer; so fire up the grill, pour the lemonade, and PLAY BALL! ...Or just play.

Falling in Love With the Church

2011-05-26T08:24:00.000-05:00

Me being ordained in 2010, with my wife, the Bishop
and other elders laying hands on me.

My calling to pastoral ministry was a little odd. Other pastors talked about growing up in church, about how much it meant to them. They spoke about little old ladies pinching their cheeks and telling them they will make a fine pastor some day, and about youth pastors and older pastors giving them leadership roles and letting them "try on" pastoring for size. There seemed to be a rather clearly-marked path that led right through college to seminary and into the pulpit.

Not me. True, I was a child in church. I have memories of Pastor Ken Metzger yelling passionate sermons (and even scaring me a little), of Pastor Buff Hearn playing his guitar in church (can you really do that?!), of my mom playing the organ, of going to Sunday school and Vacation Bible School. And of course, my chubby cheeks were sufficiently pinched. I was a well-behaved church kid. But I didn't stay very active in church. And I was certainly never going to become a pastor.

Needless to say, things changed. There were a number of steps along that road that eventually did lead on to seminary and into the pulpit. Those seasons can be celebrated (and cursed) in other posts. But there was one main thing that opened my eyes and heart to pastoring: I fell in love with the church.

It wasn't just memories of bazaars and revivals and Christmas Eve candlelight services; of my grandfather being the first to arrive at church on Sunday to make the coffee and my grandmother leading Bible studies for the ladies circles. It was those things. But more than that, it was freaky mind-blowing stuff like this:

"I ask the God of our Master, Jesus Christ, the God of glory, to make you intelligent and discerning in knowing him personally, your eyes focused and clear, so that you can see exactly what it is he is calling you to do, grasp the immensity of this glorious way of life he has for his followers, oh, the utter extravagance of his work in us who trust him--endless energy, boundless strength!

"All this energy issues from Christ: God raised him from death and set him on a throne in deep heaven, in charge of running the universe, everything from galaxies to governments, no name and no power exempt from his rule. And not just for the time being, but forever. He is in charge of it all, has the final word on everything. At the center of all this, Christ rules the church. The church, you see, is not peripheral to the world; the world is peripheral to the church. The church is Christ's body, in which he speaks and acts, by which he fills everything with his presence." (Ephesians 1:17-23, The Message)

Not a bad way to spend a life. Of course one needn't be a pastor to be part of this. (Indeed, that might be a last resort for many of us.) No, it is the people: organ-playing moms and coffee-making grandfathers, guitar-playing pastors and cheek-pinching old ladies, young and old women and men with light or dark skin in cathedrals or huts playing organs or djembes, thousands in an arena or a dozen in a living room--all knit together...forever...joined to God at the center of eternity. Even me. Even you.

Headline: Hell and Rapture Yesterday's News

2011-05-24T12:31:00.012-05:00

Most devastating tornado in decades rips through U.S. city.
Dictators charged with crimes against humanity.
Air strikes pound ancient nations.
Nuclear disaster worse than previously assessed.
Local grandparents murdered during robbery.
Local teen gunned down in nightclub.

Murder, war, economic collapse, ecological turmoil...this is all in today's paper. Not an assessment of this year's, this month's, or even this week's news. Just today.

"Jesus is coming at 6 p.m. to take all the good people away from the bad people" and "Does hell really exist and, if so, who goes there?" That's what our culture thinks the church is about. In each of the above headlines, there are disciples of Jesus Christ working for peace, justice, reconciliation and healing.

But somehow we've allowed ourselves to get so caught up in conversations about hell and the rapture that we appear to be so heavenly (or hellishly) minded that we're no earthly good. This is NOT the case, but anyone on the street would be hard-pressed to come up with the name of a Christian working to end the modern slave trade or bringing potable water to a village, as opposed to, say, naming false prophets who put up irrelevant billboards.

Hell and the Rapture are not unimportant. Ask an addict or an AIDS orphan or those living in war-zones if they believe in hell. Ask a homeless family or a 13-year-old sex-slave or just any lonely, lost, marginalized, tormented soul if they're ready for Jesus to come back. It's not the subject...it's the framing.

Hell and the Rapture are not some trivial sci-fi fantasies that we speculate about over gourmet coffee. Hell is the life of death, the path away from the God who is Love toward destruction and loss. And hell is reflected in those headlines. The Rapture is the return of Christ--not to flee the earth that so desperately needs him, but to set right all that is so wrong and to bring his kingdom in all its fullness. The need for Christ's presence is also reflected in those headlines.

But in the meantime, the church must take her PR in hand. And this, not by more billboards and superficial marketing, but by framing the conversation around the true life of the church. Indeed, it is the very presence of Christ through the Spirit-filled life of his church that should be front and center in our conversation. There doesn't have to be speculation: the Son of God is here...really! The gospel cannot continue to be commandeered by attention mongers and false prophets. There are too many true Christians in the world doing the true work of Christ.

If it bleeds, it leads...I know. It's likely we'll never hear much about the real kingdom-building that humble Christians are doing every day. The media eats up sensationalism. But does the church have to feed the monster? It'll keep coming back around. There will be more scandalous tripe--a "lost" gospel or a Catholic conspiracy or a grilled Cheesus or Satan at a Starbucks. We already have the Rapture re-predicted for Autumn--I'm sad there won't be a World Series but at least we won't have to rake those leaves!

I urge all apprentices of Jesus to keep modeling the life of the Master. And when the opportunity arises--with and without words--turn sensationalized conversations toward this truth: God is Love. And may the headlines read: God's Kingdom Coming On Earth...Now!

Water-Diamonds

2011-05-19T11:38:00.009-05:00

My 5-year-old daughter dives headlong into her pool. It's nothing fancy--just a good-sized inflatable pool with an inflatable slide. You plug the hose into the slide so water arcs onto it, making it slick like a slip-n-slide. It's a nice inflatable pool, but far from an in-the-ground pool pool. But to her, it's a slice of paradise.

She stands there, having unhooked the hose, and lets the water shoot overhead and splash down on her. She laughs uncontrollably. The sun glistens through the water, turning it into diamonds showering upon this little princess--cheap water-diamonds from a yellow hose and a backyard spigot. She doesn't know it's not a pool pool or that they are cheap water-diamonds. She only knows that all of time is present in this moment, a moment she will live in until her parents make her come inside. This is joy.

We need this joy. Somewhere between trying to be cool and trying to be responsible we stopped showering in water-diamonds. What we had wasn't enough. Who we were wasn't enough. Where we were heading wasn't clear and, so, became our obsession. How crazy is that? We became obsessed with the non-existent--things we didn't have, identities not our own, a future that was only a dream or a nightmare--and we called that "growing up."

We do better to "become like a little child." All of space and time are present in this little inflatable pool and yellow hose. There is sunshine and there are people I love. There is laughter and a shower of water-diamonds. There is joy...and I can dive headlong into it.

Song: Jamie (I'm Just Wondering)

2011-04-30T12:05:00.003-05:00

Ok, after a long hiatus I'm back on the blog with this song I wrote for my wife before she was my wife. See how that works? And they lived happily ever after...

Hearing God

2010-03-08T14:38:00.004-06:00

While worshipping God largely through song and word yesterday, I thought of this quote from the marvellous Frederick Buechner:

"If I can't see you for some reason but can only hear you, you don't exist for me in space, which is where seeing happens, but in time, which is where hearing happens. Your words follow one after the other the way tock follows tick. When I have only the sound of you to go by, I don't experience you as an object the way I would if you stood before me--something that I can walk around, inspect from all angles, more or less define. I experience you more the way I experience the beating of my own heart or the flow of my own thoughts.

"A deaf man coming upon me listening to you would think that nothing of importance was going on. But something of extraordinary importance is going on. I am taking you more fully into myself than I can any other way. Hearing you speak brings me by the most direct of all routes something of the innermost secret of who you are.

"It is no surprise that the Bible uses hearing, not seeing, as the predominant image for the way human beings know God. They can't walk around God and take God in like a cathedral or an artichoke. They can only listen to time for the sound of God--to the good times and bad times of their own lives for the words God is addressing to, of all people, them."

Haiti and Kingdom Come

2010-01-26T09:25:00.004-06:00

After a couple weeks of news stories about the multiple crises in Haiti, it’s shocking how insignificant the terrorists still doing their worst seem. Don’t get me wrong; they’re certainly an enemy that needs to be defeated. But amid the historic destruction of the Haitian earthquakes, the terrorists just seem like such insignificant fools—evil, slithering little fools. Don’t they see what we’re up against?

We’re all up against the same fallenness, the same ravages of our own sin--Pat Robertson's and the Hatians' and mine. Among those destroyed in the earthquakes were mothers and rapists, nuns and murderers and children and abusers and missionaries. No one escapes death, however peacefully or horrifically it comes. So the terrorists and their cowardly suicide bombings and haphazard attacks while the world mourns the devastation in Haiti are like schoolyard bullies afraid they won’t get attention and respect…but the school is on fire!

One of the most powerful images I’ve seen has been the US aircraft carrier Carl Vinson docked off the Haitian coast—not there to launch air-strikes, but to deliver lifesaving supplies and personnel. This is humanity at its best, working together against the common enemy of death itself. This is a striking image of God’s kingdom: "And they will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up the sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore" (Is. 2:4; Mic. 4:3). May God bless and keep the people of Haiti and all of us as we watch over one another in love.

Technorati Tags: haiti end times terrorism

The Noughties: Best of the Decade 2000-2009

2009-12-21T09:38:00.007-06:00

Okay. As of today here is my "Best/Top" list for the Noughties--the decade of 2000-2009. There's 7 of each because it's more than 5 and less than 10, as well as being biblical and all, and they're not in a particular order. I didn't put comments on each one because these aren't reviews. Some criteria include media I actually consumed (never got into Lost or saw City of God), cultural relevance (so none of my weird, obscure stuff) and, of course, artistic merit (sorry Britney Spears). I especially tried to include stuff that, looking back, had strong ties to the decade that was, whether starting trends or voicing a zeitgeist. Check it out, laud or bash away, expand your horizons, add your questions, comments, or snide remarks. And Happy 2010!

Best Albums:

All That You Can't Leave Behind (U2)--After a decade (90s) ending with boy bands and pop-tarts, U2 came along and saved rock n' roll.

O Brother, Where Art Thou? Soundtrack (Various)--Sparked a much-needed roots music revival. Gave attention to the genius of T-Bone Burnett and opened a window for Jack White.

Kid A (Radiohead)

Elephant (The White Stripes)

A Rush of Blood to the Head (Coldplay)--The Coldplay people were remembering when they were lauding Viva la Vida. Had they kept in this direction, it wouldn't have become fashionable to hate Coldplay.

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (Wilco)

The Rising (Bruce Springsteen)--What we needed after 9/11. What we still need.

Best Songs:

"Hey Ya!" (Outkast)--Irresistible dance/pop/hip-hop/funk in the tradition of Pariliament/Funkadelic. You know you loved to "shake it...shake-sh-shake it like a Polaroid picture"!

"Clocks" (Coldplay)--The song that was on every TV commercial and was copied by so many other bands...and for good reason.

"American Idiot" (Green Day)

"Paper Planes" (M.I.A.)

"Crazy" (Gnarls Barkley)--Same Funkadelic pool as Outkast--much more sinister, haunting, and melodic.

"The Rising" (Bruce Springsteen)

"Beautiful Day" (U2)--Because there were few better comments on the times than the images of tuna fleets, Bedouin fires, and oil fields juxtaposed with the bird with a leaf in her mouth and the post-flood rainbow.

Best Movies:

The Lord of the Rings (trilogy)

No Country for Old Men

Memento--Brilliant example of the trend of non-linear storytelling (see also Mulholland Drive, Adaptation), with a gripping, classic "amnesia" action plot to boot (a la North by Northwest).

Juno--Heralding a fresh era of fresh indie filmmaking, movies like this one and Little Miss Sunshine are examples that sharp writing in the hands great actors and directors all telling an honest story can still result in classic films. And a superb soundtrack doesn't hurt, either.

Man on Wire

Knocked Up--The best (so far) of the Apatow company and their heartwarming, offensive, immoral morality plays.

Kill Bill Vols. 1 & 2--If there's any doubt that Tarantino is the best of his generation, these perfections of the spaghetti western/samurai genre should put them to rest. Just give the man a genre and he'll master it.

Best TV:

The Office

Curb Your Enthusiasm--You only thought Seinfeld was over. It just moved to HBO and got better!

The Sopranos

The Daily Show with John Stewart--What sharper commentary can there be on our times than the fact that truth in media is found on a "fake" news show.

The West Wing

Arrested Development--Because I couldn't quite get The Royal Tennenbaums on my best movies list. This show was ahead of its time and would likely be a hit if debuting today.

Battlestar Galactica

Best Books:

The Tipping Point (Malcolm Gladwell)

Fast Food Nation (Eric Schlosser)

Consider the Lobster and Other Essays (David Foster Wallace)--A writer's-writer, including depression and suicide, Wallace's use of our native tongue is like discovering a strange city under the floorboards of your kitchen.

Simply Christian (N.T. Wright)

Fortress of Solitude (Jonathan Lethem)--So much of this could've been my own childhood, if Memphis, TX, had been Brooklyn, NY.

The Corrections (Jonathan Franzen)

The Road (Cormac McCarthy)--Social commentary, a father-son parable, and running from cannibals all in one alarmingly lean novel.

News Stories:

Google, Facebook, and Youtube

Hurricane Katrina

Election 2000/Supreme Court Elects Bush President

Iraq/Afghanistan Wars

Human Genome Mapped

U.S. Elects First African-American President

September 11, 2001

Honorable Mentions: The Colbert Report, Red Sox Win World Series, Mulholland Drive, "Hurt" (Johnny Cash), Pope John Paul II Dies/Benedict XVI Ascends, "Stan" (Eminem), 30 Rock, There Will Be Blood, "Single Ladies" (Beyonce), Family Guy, High Fidelity (movie), China: Sleeping Giant Awakes, Freakonomics (Levitt, Dubner), Indian Ocean Tsunami 2004, God's Politics (Jim Wallis), The Dark Knight, Good Night and Good Luck

Technorati Tags: best of decade movies music TV news

I'll Be Home for Advent

2009-12-17T06:54:00.002-06:00

As I write this—sitting in a bookstore, drinking coffee—there is a girl talking on her cell phone to her sister. She is buzzing around looking for a book the sister had recommended, the title of which she’s forgotten, but she can’t stop talking about how excited she is to get home for Christmas to see her sister and family. She talks about finals and her look definitely betrays that she is living in Abilene for college. I’m sure she has many friends and an enjoyable enough life here. But this is not home, and her life for now is very much shaped by the hope of home.

One of the special things about Advent and Christmas is that our lives are especially shaped by hope. We are hopeful about seeing family and friends, about time to rest and slow down, about giving and receiving gifts—there’s a sense of anticipation and even camaraderie. The vast majority of our culture is still in on this, and what we’re in on is something hopeful. And this hope shapes our lives. Despite the jokes and complaints we make about Christmas being hectic and frustrating, we really do tend to—as a culture, and even other cultures around the world—we tend to rise to the occasion of togetherness and anticipation. We rise to a lifestyle—albeit temporarily—of hope.

It is a sad state of American Christianity today that our thoughts of the “end times” are characterized by pessimism and fear. For the apostle Paul and the early church, “end times” was a subject of triumph. Paul doesn’t write, “Things are so bad, Jesus must be coming soon to take us away from all this.” No, Paul’s understanding was that, having won such a magnificent victory over sin and death, Jesus’ kingdom reality must only be a heartbeat away. And what’s more, that heartbeat is yours and mine. Just as we pray for God’s kingdom to come on earth as it is in heaven, so we are to be living from that kingdom and building it until Christ comes in final victory to lift the veil between heaven and earth and to establish his kingdom forever. This is the Blessed Hope of Advent.

Some Angel Named Harold?

2009-12-15T11:59:00.006-06:00

For your consideration, I want to reintroduce you to Charles Wesley's brilliant Christmas hymn "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing." I believe this to be one of the (if not THE) greatest Christmas song in the church's musical canon. It is thick with theological insight and rich with biblical imagery. If you will take a moment to just read these words (aloud please), I think you will be stricken by their power. (And please forgive the lack of gender-inclusive language. No offense intended.)

Hark! the herald angels sing,

"Glory to the newborn King;

Peace on earth and mercy mild,

God and sinners reconciled!"

Joyful all ye nations rise,

Join the triumph of the skies;

With the angelic host proclaim,

"Christ is born in Bethlehem!"

Hark! the herald angels sing,

"Glory to the newborn King!"

Christ, by highest heaven adored;

Christ, the everlasting Lord,

Late in time behold him come,

Offspring of a virgin's womb.

Veiled in flesh the Godhead see;

Hail the incarnate Deity,

Pleased as man with men to dwell,

Jesus, our Emmanuel:

Hark! the herald angels sing,

"Glory to the newborn King!"

Hail the heaven-born Prince of Peace!

Hail the Sun of Righteousness!

Light and life to all he brings,

Risen with healing in his wings;

Mild, he lays his glory by,

Born that man no more may die,

Born to raise the sons of earth,

Born to give them second birth:

Hark! the herald angels sing,

"Glory to the newborn King!"

Even that familiar first verse deserves closer attention, with concepts like God and sinners being reconciled, and the plea for nations to rise and join in worshiping the true "King of kings" (Wesley's original words, replaced with "newborn King" by George Whitefield.) And for a real mind-scramble, let me introduce you to some stanzas we don't usually sing:

Come, desire of nations, come,

Fix in us thy humble home;

Rise, the woman's conquering seed,

Bruise in us the serpent's head.

Now display thy saving power,

Ruin'd nature now restore;

Now in mystic union join

Thine to ours, and ours to thine.

Hark! The herald angels sing,

"Glory to the newborn King!"

Adam's likeness, Lord, efface,

Stamp thy image in its place.

Second Adam from above,

Reinstate us in thy love.

Let us thee, though lost, regain,

Thee, the life, the inner man.

O, to all thyself impart,

Form'd in each believing heart.

Hark! The herald angels sing,

"Glory to the newborn King!"

I'll admit this is no "Frosty the Snowman" or "Grandma Got Runover by a Reindeer," but maybe there's some stuff in here we should consider in our Christmas observances. In my humble Methodist opinion, little Chuck Wesley has given us a powerful work of art here, chock full of crunchy fruits and nuts!

And it's made all the better paired with Felix Mendelssohn's wonderful music. Mendelssohn was surprised at the idea of his "secular" music being used for sacred text, but this act of redemption only enhances the signficance of the hymn. Listen for this song during key moments of your favorite holiday films like It's a Wonderful Life and A Charlie Brown Christmas, and if you sing it this season, maybe think about the words and the message of those herald angels: Glory to God in the highest! Glory to the newborn King of kings!

Patrick Swayze & the Night Visitor

2009-12-07T11:16:00.004-06:00

A few years ago my wife and I moved to Vancouver, British Columbia, in April so we could find a place to live and get settled before I began seminary. We had decided we would camp in this beautiful part of the world while apartment-hunting. We had left Amarillo, Texas, well into spring with temperatures in the 70s, but we arrived at the end of the Vancouver winter with cold, wet weather in the 50s.

After asking around we found a beautiful area to camp several miles north of the city. We pitched our tent at a secluded campground with pine trees all around and snow-capped mountains that reflected into a perfect lake. After setting up camp we went into town for a while to see what leads we could get on apartments. Later, we returned to camp, grilled some hot dogs, and settled into the tent where we watched a movie on the computer (Dirty Dancing, I believe--roughing it!) Then we zipped into our sleeping bags and drifted off. It was perfect...until somewhere around midnight.

I heard a distant rumbling. The ground began to shake. Do they have earthquakes around here? Then I saw a blinding light as bright as the sun shining through the fabric of our tent. It was like high noon in West Texas. I couldn’t believe it but there was a train that ran about 20 yards away, roaring by our tent at midnight! I tossed and turned the rest of the night hoping another a train wouldn't come, which it didn’t. But that bright light and pounding rumble proved to be an inescapable memory.

The prophetic ministries of Isaiah and, centuries later, John the Baptizer were something like that train—bright, shocking, disturbing light shining into the cold darkness of Israel’s hearts. Many generations had come and gone since Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, since Moses and the Exodus, Jeremiah and the Judges, since King David, Solomon and the Temple, and hundreds more years of back and forth faithfulness and disobedience.

Despite God's own long-suffering and faithfulness, his people had routinely grown complacent in their worship and calling. Their experience of God was marked by dead ritual devoid of justice and mercy, and their cold hearts were no longer open to God’s warming love. They neither felt it nor showed it. This is when prophets appear on the scene. This is when God comes.

The same could be said about our culture today--perhaps even the church. Maybe we have gotten settled into the cold darkness and need to experience the shocking light of God’s presence. He is still the God who comes, barreling through the night, invading our secure little tents and our scenic slumber. That’s what Advent is about. Sleep in heavenly peace? How about "the glory of the LORD will be revealed, and all flesh will see it together"!

Praying with Kings of Leon

2009-09-22T11:11:00.005-05:00

In June I, in essence, emerged from 2 of the darkest years of my life. Those couple of years were spent in self-examination and intense struggle with what I found. I've never known such loneliness, pain, or distance from God. One of the worst things I discovered is that my ability to share myself--my true self--with others is all but nonexistent. This was gas for the fire of my self-exile. I have a life filled with the most wonderful family imaginable, caring friends, compassionate colleagues, and work centered on communing with the Living God and ordering the community of his people. Yet I was completely alone, cold, and blind.

In September 2008 I found a voice for my much-needed prayer. I was watching Saturday Night Live when Kings of Leon, a band I had only known from the pages of Rolling Stone magazine, began playing "Use Somebody." At first I just liked how they sounded like early U2 and were sort of raw and exposed. Then came the first line: "I've been roaming around always looking down at all I see. / Painted faces fill the places I can't reach. / You know that I could use somebody...someone like you."

That was it. God was a lover who seemed to be utterly ignoring me. And my true life, hidden in God, was as far away as he was. On it went: "Off in the night while you live it up I'm off to sleep / waging wars to shape the poet and the beat. / I hope it's gonna make you notice... / someone like me."

Over the next months I clung to this song like a security blanket. "You know that I could use somebody" was my constant plea to God to throw me a line before the dark waters engulfed me for good. And yes, it was that bad. But the song carried me along until the sun began to shine, and the waters stilled. Now the song is getting a lot of radio-play, but my heart doesn't ache so much when I hear it. Instead I just love how tight the bass and drums are in the second section. I'm thankful to have had Kings of Leon as prayer partners.

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Manna-Eating Pelicans!

2009-09-01T08:03:00.004-05:00

While we technically have a few more weeks until summer ends, I can sense the turning of another page. It has been a wonderful summer for my family and me—busy, but enjoyable. Despite the busyness, I got to have some great summery moments.

One such moment occurred when we were at the beach. Each morning I would let my wife and daughter sleep in while I slipped out early for my quiet time. I’d walk down to the pier and sit out over the water, reading my devotion book and Bible and prayerfully enjoying the differences between the Pacific Ocean and central Texas.

The first morning, I watched huge pelicans circle the water then dive straight down and SPLASH!...breakfast. As I sat there in the morning quiet, I heard someone sneeze. It sounded like they were under the pier. I looked down into the water and there was a seal. Of course I said, “God bless you.” Over time, I looked out to see the seal’s family, paddling and rolling around, playing and having their breakfast.

My devotional reading that first morning was the story from Exodus 16 about God providing manna for his people. Each day every family gathered as much as they needed for that day. It melted away with the sun’s heat and they were forbidden from gathering for the next day, with the exception of the Sabbath. They were simply to trust that God would take care of them from one day to the next.

As I read this, I looked out on the pelicans and seals—and now there were 4 dolphins rising and diving not 100 yards out. I reveled in God’s care for his creatures. These sea creatures didn’t worry about tomorrow. They simply came out to see what the Lord had for them today. I could feel God smiling at his creation. I could also feel Jesus saying, “If the Father cares so much for these, will he not much more care for you?” Today, I'm determined to dive in…SPLASH!

Confessions of an Ex-Inglourious Basterd

2009-08-21T19:25:00.004-05:00

I just went to see Quentin Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds, in all its bloody, quirky, fiery beauty. As with most good art, this film left me satisfied yet troubled to confront my own bloody, quirky, fiery beauty.

First, the movie is a great piece of filmmaking. Tarantino is at his best, showing his trademark style of being as much a cinema fan and afficionado as a solid and visionary director. The guy has chops, and there are plenty of original as well as reverential choices he makes throughout. It is impossible not to get swept up in the sheer joy Tarantino obviously has in the journey of his film. And there are a number of solid performances of surprising depth and even understatement--a lot of closeups and dialog displaying Tarantino's (also the writer) brilliant ear for language. Inglourious Basterds is a beautiful, complex, troubling and even humorous piece of art.

Like some of the paintings I recently saw at the Getty museum in L.A., the film was not just pretty to look at; it really challenged me. I'm troubled by the joy I felt watching Nazis getting maimed and killed in the most horrific ways. I was cheering on the basterds as they scalped one Nazi or beat another with a baseball bat (these are in the TV ads, so no real spoiler). After all, they're Nazis--they've got it coming, right? Right?

In some ways I felt this was something of a cultural catharsis. Tarantino is going back and rewriting history in what my angry flesh feels is a very satisfying way. Seeing swastikas burn and get carved into...well, I'll have to stop lest I get into spoilers. But you get the idea. There's a strong feeling of satisfaction, even relief, at some of the most evil people in history getting what most of us feel they deserve.

But throughout the movie, there was always my underlying value system reminding me that that's not how Jesus handled the evil people around him. "Oh, Robert! You didn't go and take Jesus to a Tarantino film, did you? You were so happy with the violent come-uppances before you dragged Jesus into the whole mess." Well, I tried to leave him at home, but he just insisted on coming along. He's like that sometimes.

Anyway, there was all kinds of Old Testament stuff going through my head in my attempts to rationalize my elation. Little Quentin has nothing on the Judges or any number of Old Testament figures exacting the Lord's vengeance on those who would thwart his will. Just picture Ehud confronting fat King Eglon, coldly whispering in his ear, "I have a message for you from the Lord," and then thrusting his machete in the king's gut so deep that the fat swallows the handle (Judges 3). Tarantino wishes he could write so well.

So, I thoroughly enjoyed the film. I cheered on the destruction of Nazis. I was not overly-sensitive to the violence, just enough to assure myself that I'm not a serial killer. But Jesus was there with me in the form of the Holy Spirit, reminding me that my sin is no less sinful than that of Hitler himself. Nevertheless, it is paid for. And even an inglourious basterd like me has been given the right to be called a son of the Living God...and vengeance is his!

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Permission to Slow Down

2009-07-17T23:47:00.006-05:00

In a few days my family and I are going on vacation. It’s time to slow down and notice things. That seems to be what summer is about. The Gershwins said it best in "Porgy & Bess": Summertime, and the livin’ is easy. The smell of mowed grass and barbecue, the feel of the sun’s warmth, the glorious sight of baseball under a blue sky, these are a few of my favorite things! Whether packing in as many vacation experiences as possible or just sitting on the porch watching the sun go down each evening, summertime is a time to notice life. It is a time when we let life happen, rather than trying to force it into our own daily constraints.

Typically, the worst part of summer vacation is that it ends. So, here are a few summer ideas that might work in autumn, winter, and spring.

1) Let life happen. Make plans and work hard, but enjoy the passage of time.

2) Rest. A key about summer is that it seems to give us permission to relax, but God already gave us not just permission, but a command to rest. After all, he did!

3) Notice things. Each season has its own sights and sounds and smells that are the stuff of life. Make time to take it all in.

4) Enjoy loved ones. Family reunions, cookouts, ballgames, and vacations don’t have to end with the summer. Whatever it is, it should be shared with the people we love.

And right now it’s summer; so fire up the grill, pour the lemonade, and PLAY BALL!

King of Pop vs. King of Kings?

2009-07-08T12:36:00.007-05:00

(Disclaimer: I'm a lifelong fan of Michael Jackson's entertainment--from J5 as a kid in the 70s on up. See this post. But I'm also a pastor who "conducts" funerals and memorial services, which I believe are to be acts of worship of the Triune God. And I'm always considering the questions below. So, please indulge me with a little grace here.)

It was interesting to watch the memorial service for Michael Jackson yesterday. It was mostly a beautiful celebration of a sometimes beautiful, oftentimes odd life. One of the things that stood out most to me was a sort of back-and-forth between messiahs: Jesus and MJ.

There was Mariah Carey singing her rendition of “I’ll Be There,” yet almost putting the words in God's mouth, even singing a “thank you, Jesus” at the end. You had Lionel Richie just coming right out with the song “Jesus is Love”—and he tore it up! And, of course, Stevie Wonder was in another world with his “Never Dreamed You’d Leave in Summer,” but especially his powerful dirge “They Won’t Go When I Go,” which had the entire Staples Center hypnotized.

And there were other moments throughout the service, with gospel choirs and preachers and mourners pointing to Jesus as the true source of comfort and hope.

But behind it all—songs and sermons and soliloquies—were images of the dearly-departed, often in cruciform pose. There were words of the special burden Michael had, to be such a pure man-child in such a fallen world. And, of course, there were the songs—ending on an appropriate note with “We Are the World” and “Heal the World.” The whole thing was beautiful, albeit confused and unusual—like the one memorialized.

Not wishing to trample the man’s grave, but I don’t think it’s a stretch to think that MJ may have carried a bit of a messiah complex (as well as Peter Pan/arrested development issues), which was only enabled by his entourage and many of his fans.

But it all brings up the interesting question of the role and activity of Christ in culture (about which H. Richard Niebuhr had much to say). Is it beautiful to sing “we are the ones who make a brighter day, so let’s start giving,” or is it idolatrous? Is it right to tell people to “heal the world, make it a better place, for you and for me and the entire human race,” or is it deluded? And if it’s wrong, are there levels of “wrong-ness”—i.e. are such songs at least better than the death and lust and destruction sung about by so many others, or is it all idolatry and sin? In the end, is there room for both the King of Pop and the King of kings?

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Believe in Anything

2009-07-02T11:08:00.003-05:00

I couldn’t help but notice the headline in USA Today a while back: Psychics Make a Fortune During Uncertain Economic Times. The article goes on to say, “Anecdotal evidence indicates that psychics, astrologers, palm readers, Tarot card shufflers, numerologists and other paranormal specialists have become the rage as investment advisers and brokers appear clueless. After all, if the times aren't normal, why not try the paranormal?”

One would think our churches would be bursting at the seams these days. Those who have placed undue hope in money and the material have found their foundations shaken if not crumbling. This would seem the prime time for folks to turn again to the eternal Lord of heaven and earth, the one true God, the Ancient of Days who is the same yesterday, today, and forever…right?

G.K. Chesterton so perfectly said, “When people stop believing in God, they don’t believe in nothing—they believe in anything.” It saddens me that it often seems to be the poorer segment of our society that spends the most money on the lottery. Likewise, it is sad to see people so desperate for security and hope and, well, money, dropping their dough on what is only evil and opportunistic.

The article continues, “Nina Melrose, 42, a Dallas soothsayer who reads palms and Tarot cards, advises clients on which stocks to buy, basing her picks ‘solely on my psychic ability.’ She declined to say how prescient she had been. Others steer clear of specifics. They offer common-sense advice—at rates up to $5.75 a minute—that some people wouldn't need a mind reader to provide. Valerie Morrison, who charges $85 a half-hour, has increased her schedule from three days a week to five because of rising demand. She tells clients to buy gold and silver, sell their antiques and pass up new clothes. ‘Anything they can do where they can put cash in a safe,’ she says. ‘If we just hold tight, we're going to get through this.’”

People seem desperate for answers and, even more, for hope. Where is the church? What are we doing during all this? The world needs good news. And we’ve got the best news ever!

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Michael Jackson and Track Spikes

2009-06-27T09:04:00.004-05:00

Jeff Richardson could moonwalk in his track spikes. That did it...Jeff was officially the coolest guy in Jr. High! When he wasn't beating everyone on the track, he was midfield, dancing to Thriller on somebody's boom-box. The students' interest drifted from their teammates' events and crowded around the main event: Jeff Richardson popping and breaking and doing the moonwalk in his track spikes.

Then there were the garage parties. We would get together after school on Friday and decorate someone's garage with posters and tattered old rugs and christmas lights. A garage or shed became our own little dance club, away from parents and teachers and the disconnectedness of small-town life. What was happening in a garage in Memphis, TX, population 3417, was also happening in LA or Manhattan or Paris or Berlin: people dancing to Michael Jackson.

I couldn't do the moonwalk in track spikes, but I could do it in my sock feet on my grandmother's kitchen floor...and occasionally in those garages. And I could pop. The best song was "Wanna Be Startin' Something." The beat would just get into you, the strings lulling you into a trance. And there we'd be, carried away into our own little universe. Jeff Richardson wasn't around for these dances. Even in 1983, our black friends lived literally across the tracks and we didn't see them again until school. "Mama say mama sa ma ma coo sa..."

In the end, we don't remember our icons as they were at their time of death or even as they were in their heyday. We remember them as they were in our cars and our bedrooms, in theaters and our living rooms, in small-town garages and at track meets.

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Rant: Christian Music

2009-06-08T23:25:00.006-05:00

I don’t listen to a lot of Christian music. The reason for this is twofold. First, the quality of the music—creativity, power, beauty—is lacking. There don’t seem to be a lot of Christian songwriters who have a good feel for inventive chord changes, beautiful melodic structure, rhythmic dynamism. It’s as if they've only ever listened to…Christian music.

Having spent years making my living as a Christian musician, majoring in composition in college, even first coming to know the Lord as a result of Christian music, I’m heartbroken by the sheer boredom I experience upon a couple of minutes tuned into national Christian radio.

The other reason I don’t listen to much Christian music is lack of lyrical depth. This, again, is a twofold problem. First, there seems to be only a very basic theological grounding. Now, if the intent is only to present the Gospel in its simplest form, maybe this isn’t the worst thing. I was drawn to Christ by Stryper singing, “We are the soldiers under God’s command / we hold his two-edged sword within our hands.” As a teenage guitarist into Motley Crue and Ratt, but also a 5th-generation Methodist, this scratched me where I itched. But what next?

I eventually found Rich Mullins—a real poet by anyone’s standards—but then he died, having spent his career being largely ignored by the Christian industry. People have their favorites, but they always end up sounding as cheesy as most preachers trying to sound “relevant” (more on that in another post).

The other end of the shallow lyric pool in Christian songwriting is lack of lyrical quality. If the theology is shallow, the actual lyrical craftsmanship is all but absent. Christian songwriters seem to think it a badge of honor NOT to have really worked on their lyrics. “It just came to me and I wrote it down.” You don’t say! I’m sure that’s much more spiritual than actually working hard and straining toward perfection with God’s gifts. Or maybe the gift is lacking. (Oh snap! No I didn’t!)

One of my favorite bands—King’s X—a prime example of brilliant musicianship and stunning lyrics, ended up getting shunned by their Christian fans when their lead singer/bassist came out as a homosexual. Maybe this shunning was warranted, we make our own decisions about such things. My decision is quality and honesty. I am not deaf to the point of view of the artist, so there are plenty of conclusions that secular (and Christian!) artists come to with which I completely disagree. But I would rather listen to someone’s honest, creative, and beautiful music about their pain and questions rather than someone’s trite, contrived, and bland music about their shallow faith and empty answers.

So, I continue to search. There are a handful of decent Christian artists out there. There are many hymns that have proven their quality through time. But the findings are few and far between, so I search on. The world is searching. In a culture that communicates more and more through the sights and sounds of the arts, the church desperately needs creators worthy of the Creator. Step it up, Christians. We haven’t come as far as you think.

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Best Romantic Comedies

2009-06-04T08:29:00.004-05:00

Okay, I'll admit it: Despite my high cinematic standards, I enjoy accompanying my wife, my crush, to the occasional romantic comedy. In fact, when done right, I think a film like When Harry Met Sally can be a meaningful and lasting piece of art. Paste Magazine listed their picks for the 17 Best Romantic Comedies of This Decade. Paste can be pretty artsy, so you won't find a lot of what we'll call "Jennifer fare" (i.e. Garner, Aniston, Lopez, etc.). But some of their picks are pretty original; some are absurd. I'll list them here, and readers feel free to share what you think of their picks and/or share your picks for ALL-TIME BEST ROMANTIC COMEDIES.

17. Waitress (2007--Keri Russell; dir. Adrienne Shelly)

16. The Science of Sleep (2006--Charlotte Gainsbourg, Gael Garcia Bernal; dir. Michel Gondry)

15. Ghost Town (2008--Greg Kinnear, Tea Leoni, Ricky Gervais)

14. Bridget Jones's Diary (2001--Renee Zellweger, Hugh Grant, Colin Firth)

13. The 40-Year-Old Virgin (2005--Steve Carell, Katherine Keener, et al; dir. Judd Apatow)

12. Vicky Cristina Barcelona (2008--Scarlett Johannson, Penelope Cruz, Javier Bardem; dir. Woody Allen)

11. Lars & the Real Girl (2007--Ryan Gosling, a sex doll)

10. About a Boy (2002--Hugh Grant, Rachel Weisz)

9. Juno (2007--Ellen Page, Michael Cera)

8. Knocked Up (2007--Seth Rogen, Katherine Heigl, et al; dir. Apatow)

7. Sideways (2004--Paul Giamatti, Virginia Madsen, Thomas Haden Church)

6. Punch-Drunk Love (2002--Adam Sandler, Emily Watson; dir. Paul Thomas Anderson)

5. High Fidelity (2000--John Cusack, Iben Hjejle; dir. Stephen Frears)

4. Wall-E (2008--Disney/Pixar)

3. Amelie (2001--Audrey Tautou, Mathieu Kassovitz; dir. Jean-Pierre Jeunet)

2. Before Sunset (2004--Ethan Hawke, Julie Delpy; dir. Richard Linklater)

1. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004--Jim Carrey, Kate Winslet; dir. Michel Gondry)

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Hamilton on Homosexuality

2009-06-01T16:51:00.008-05:00

Following is an excerpt from an interview with Adam Hamilton, pastor of the Kansas City-area mega-church, United Methodist Church of the Resurrection. The interview is from the Wesley Report blog, and can be found in its entirety here. Hamilton offers an interesting take. Feel free to share your own.

SHANE: You recently preached a sermon on a controversial topic: homosexuality. Your position on this subject seems to have moved left over the years, but you show an unusual amount of respect for people on both sides of the issue and you even appear to be attempting to forge a "third way." What would be your advice to congregations that take far left or far right positions on this? Is it possible to take a traditional position on homosexuality and still be a congregation that effectively reaches gays and lesbians?

ADAM: I think it will be increasingly difficult to be a vocal proponent of the current UM [United Methodist] position on homosexuality [that the practice of homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching] and effectively reach the next generation, or to effectively reach gays and lesbians. I think one might hold the current UM stance and not address the issue and reach them. One might, for the next five years (ten years in the south) articulate our current position with great compassion, and still reach young adults, homosexuals and their friends, family and co-workers.

But the world is changing and I think the church will see this issue differently in the future. I'm convinced that all of the evangelical churches will wrestle with this issue in ten to fifteen years or they will have lost a generation and will themselves begin a steady period of decline. Sunday I asked our congregation to raise their hands if they have a close friend or someone they love who is gay. 90% of the congregation raised their hands. These folks already see greater complexity in this issue than the church does. They may still be a bit more conservative, but they will not tolerate churches that speak in ways that are cruel and insensitive about their friends. It's one thing to debate homosexuality as a hypothetical argument about someone you hardly know. It is another thing to consider a position regarding the life of someone you love.

My own journey and position on this involves several things: First, I continue to acknowledge that the scripture teaches that heterosexuality is normative and, to use Leslie Weatherhead's language from his book, The Will of God, God's "intentional will."

The second is to recognize that there is a small portion of the population that seems to be shaped differently from that intention, either at birth or by early childhood, and usually not by a choice that was their own. For these heterosexuality will be very difficult to live into, even with the kind of "reparative therapy" offered by some.

Next, after thirty years of daily Bible reading I have come to recognize that the Bible is a more complex document than most people would like to admit. It is both a book written by human beings who were shaped by their cultural and theological presuppositions, and the limitations of their knowledge, and it is a book through which God has spoken and continues to speak. This recognition gives us the ability to wrestle with the texts on homosexuality and to at least ask questions of them (did God really intend that homosexuals be stoned to death? Does God really see the gay children who we baptized, gave third grade Bibles to, confirmed and raised up as an "abomination"?)

Fourth, we have a clear mandate, throughout scripture, concerning demonstrating love. We are to "do justice and to love mercy." Finally, what has most affected me and my views of this issue over the years has been my love of the children in our congregation. Having been in this church nearly 19 years, more than a dozen of the children I've baptized and watched grow up in the church later "came out" - I love these children (now young adults) and as I listen to their stories, and the way they've been treated by other Christians, I find myself being very protective of them.

Likewise, in a congregation of 16,000 people, if we're reaching a representative sample of the community, 5% of these - roughly 800 people - are gay or lesbian. And I feel a great compassion and care for those in my flock that I know who are gay. So, both in my theological reflection about the nature of God, the nature of scripture and the nature of love, and in my personal experience with children and youth I care about in my flock, I find my views moderating on this issue.

I've tried to navigate a third way that says that we at Church of the Resurrection will agree to disagree about this issue - we've got folks on both sides. But we will continue to try to learn, grow and understand more clearly both the issue of homosexuality and how God looks at his children who are gay. And we will be a place where no one's children are turned away, or wounded by our church. I have tried to model how we might affirm the normative status of heterosexuality while seeing homosexuality with fresh and more sensitive and understanding eyes than we have in the past.

I still have a lot of unresolved questions about homosexuality, but what I've said captures the struggle, and the journey, I've been on.

homosexuality christianity methodist

Bob Dylan Gets It

2009-05-26T13:45:00.006-05:00

Bob Dylan gets it (see post High Plains Drifter). On his new album Together Through Life, Dylan captures that hot, dry spirit of the High Plains and the entire Lone Star State. Really, the whole thing feels like a drive from Houston to Laredo to Brownsville in a dusty old El Dorado convertible--stopping in borderland cantinas and reminiscing about lost love and unrealized dreams. If you care more about honesty and art than pretty pop singing, then you should open your soul to this new album. If you are a Texan by birth and/or disposition, you should take time to let this album grow in you--it doesn't grow on you, it grows in you.

Here are some excerpts, highlighting Dylan's thoughts on Texas, from a recent Rolling Stone cover story. " 'You feel things, and you're not quite sure what you feel,' Dylan says of the region. 'But it follows your every move, and you don't know why. You can't get out of it...' The album bottles the feeling of King Ranch country along Highway 77... 'Spirited guys from down there,' Dylan believes. 'Independent-thinking guys. Texas might have more independent-thinking people than any other sate in the country. And it shows in the music... I think you really have to be a Texan to appreciate the vastness of it and the emptiness of it,' Dylan says. 'But I'm an honorary Texan.' "

Dylan gets it. And so should you. If you're planning a road trip this summer, or if you just want to pretend you're on a Tex-Mex adventure, you've got to include at least a couple of tracks from Together Through Life. I'd suggest "Beyond Here Lies Nothin'," "If You Ever Go to Houston," "Jolene," and "It's All Good." The last one is a lesson in not going gentle into that good night, with lines like "Big politicians telling lies / Restaurant kitchen all full of flies / Don't make a bit of difference / Don't see why it should...it's all good."

When Dylan met French president Nicolas Sarkozy recently, the president asked Dylan where he was from. "I'm from the Lone Star State," was Dylan's reply. Then, for a gift Dylan gave the president a Texas-style belt buckle (we call 'em turkey platters). If you know that Dylan is from Minnesota, and really from nowhere, then you understand how funny it all is. But then on "I Feel a Change Comin' On" he sings, "I'm listening to Billy Joe Shaver / And I'm reading James Joyce / Some people they tell me / I've got the blood of the land in my voice." Indeed. Dylan gets it. And if you don't know who Billy Joe Shaver is, you've got some work to do.

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High Plains Drifter

2009-05-26T11:15:00.009-05:00

There's something about this place that I can't get away from, no matter how hard I try. I lived in Boston, full of history and culture but no sunsets. I lived in Vancouver where snowcapped mountains rise against beaches and cityscapes, but there was no space. Even the beaches and deserts and mountains and collision of glamor and struggle in California, which probably came closest to capturing my heart, still left me longing. To steal from Eastwood, I am a High-Plains drifter.

I don't know that you have to be born to it, but it helps. Most folks don't get it. Miles and miles of scrub and sky. For me it is miles and miles of soul. It's not a blank canvas. You camp out under a blanket of stars so thick you think you could reach your finger out and give it a swirl. You watch blue-black thunderheads roll in, empty themselves, then roll on out. The sunset moves through layers of pink and orange and red so vast you swear you'll never look down again. It's not a blank canvas, but there's room--room for soul.

When you finally do look down, there's dirt. There's dirt and canyons and cattle and snakes and ugly plants with ugly names like cactus and yucca--even the name sticks in your dry throat. In the summer, hot winds blow dust from the west. In the winter, biting winds blow snow from the north. Water is playa lakes, odd oases that attract all manner of migrating birds. Trees are dry, twisted mesquite. Mountains are 500 miles to the north, south, or west. And beaches? The whole place is a beach...with no ocean.

I think that's why you almost have to be born to it to really get it. It's not an accidental place. The people are solid and original. They don't talk a lot, but when they do they tell stories. Most folks keep farmer's hours--before dawn to after dusk--no matter what they do for a living. It's just in them--hard work, think for yourself, take care of your neighbor, take care of your own.

Yes, there are guns and rednecks and barbed-wire fences and sonsabitches--the place isn't a commune. Maybe it is backward, in some good ways and some bad ways. But you get out of this place what you bring to it. So, for some it's empty and dead and boring. And for others, it's filling and alive and beautiful. For me, it's home.

Trouble With Exits

2009-05-15T08:24:00.004-05:00

I’ve been having trouble with exits lately. My wife and I were driving in Dallas a while back and I just kept passing the exit we needed. It was one of those double exits that split into two highways going in opposite directions as soon as you exit, so I just wasn't understanding the signs. Four times, going one way and then the other, I couldn’t get it right. And then, even in Abilene, my iphone GPS was telling me to take the Jake Roberts Freeway. But the Jake Roberts Freeway apparently has about 4 other names, and "Jake Roberts" wasn't on any of the exit signs. So three times I watched the little blue dot that represented my car get off the little purple path I was supposed to be following.

One of the most frustrating things about exit trouble is getting back on track. There’s no telling how long you may end up going in the wrong direction before you can get back on the right road. Like Rain Man, of course I’m an excellent driver; but, these days exits are the bane of my existence. It takes a lot to admit this. We men are infamously fragile when it comes to our driving. We can end up nose-down in a muddy river and still swear we know where we’re going.

I look back at my life and see many exits that should not have been taken--choices that got me off track from an ideal direction. Or shouldn't I have taken those exits? Some were outright sin that led me away from God, and would have led me to a literal dead end. But others were bypasses or scenic routes that seem to have gotten me where I needed to go...eventually. They may have even gotten me to a better place than I might otherwise have gone.

The big difference between then and now is heading, knowing where I'm going. I don't have some big life plan--just some things I think I need to be and do while I'm around (and a number of these were not even on my radar a few years ago, while others have become completely irrelevant). But my real heading is Jesus, who calls himself "the Way." I have the strongest belief--faith, even--that he is the right direction. I'm aware enough of those "dead-end" exits to usually avoid them. And with such joyous traveling companions and the right heading, the occasional scenic route or even rocky road don't cause me to worry and wonder so much. But I still hate driving in Dallas.

I Wish I'd Written That (Top 5)

2009-04-27T14:54:00.004-05:00

This is the end...my only friend, the end. (No, there aren't any Doors songs, but I could easily name several I wish I'd written.) Here are the Top 5 Songs I Wish I'd Written, the aural works of beauty, power, and/or perfection that cause a tinge of jealousy before I go ahead and sink into their exemplary songwriting craftsmanship. Please take some time to enjoy #20-16 and #15-11 and #10-6. Hope you've enjoyed being reminded of some old favorites or being introduced to some new ones. And the hits just keep on coming!

5) "'Round Here"--Counting Crows

First, there's lyrical perfection like "Step out the front door like a ghost into a fog/ where no one notices the contrast of white on white. / And in between the moon and you / angels get a better view / of the crumbling difference between wrong and right." Then you throw in Adam Duritz's uncanny ability to deliver the phrases with the skill of poet-singer-songwriters like Dylan and Springsteen. Finally, you glue it all together with just a great American rock n' roll band, and you've got a great song with other great lines like "Round here we talk just like lions / but we sacrifice like lambs..." I actually wrote a song called "Dying to Hear It" that was inspired in part by this song. It's a decent tune that a lot of folks like, but I still wish I'd written this one!

4) "Praying for Time"--George Michael

Okay, I finally had to admit that I'm a George Michael fan...and this was the song that did it. To be honest, I was floored by "Father Figure" and a couple of other cuts from the Faith album, but I just couldn't get past "I Want Your Sex" and the title cut (even though it is a decent pop tune), as well as the whole Wham days. But the next album, Listen Without Prejudice Vol. 1, allowed me to go back and admit, this guy can write a song...and can sing the hell out of it, too!

Remember when George gave up appearing in videos and became a serious songwriter? "Praying for Time" is beautiful, "Freedom! 90" was a great pop tune, perfectly produced and passionately delivered. If only he'd stayed out of that bathroom... But he also had contract headaches and other personal issues that just kept him from what he seemed like he might become. Maybe there's still hope for Listen Without Prejudice Vol. 2. Ya gotta have faith...

3) "Walk On the Wild Side"--Lou Reed

This is one of those songs that defies description. Gets under my skin every time, with its simplicity, intimacy, beauty, and horror. All about real people in the Warhol/Velvet Underground/NYC scene that was the antithesis of the hippie stuff happening at the same time on the left coast and up the road at Woodstock. A perfect example of less is more.

2) "Walking in Memphis"--Marc Cohn

What a great, fresh song. That piano riff just carries you along like you're, well, like you're walking in Memphis...with your feet 10 feet off of Beale. (Just fyi, Beale is a street in Memphis, about which W.C. Handy wrote "Beale St. Blues"--see how it all comes together?) Cohn is a super songwriter. Unfortunately, he's also the victim of the "Best New Artist" Grammy curse (see also Starland Vocal Band, Paula Cole, Milli Vanilli, etc.), not to mention the fact that Cohn got shot in the head a few years ago! But he's still going. And if you're gonna be a one-hit-wonder, what a hit!

1) "In Your Eyes"--Peter Gabriel

The most beautiful love song ever written? Certainly one of the deepest and most sincere. A glorious praise song? That's between you and God--it works better for me than many "official" hymns and praise songs. "In your eyes, / the light the heat, / in your eyes / I am complete. / In your eyes / I see the doorway to a thousand churches, / the resolution of all my fruitless searches..." I know that does it for me--toward my wife, toward God--a better lyric expression of love than most others I've found.

And that's it! For now...

music songwriting pop culture

Hope in a Tomb

2009-04-11T09:11:00.003-05:00

The passion of the Lord did not end at the cross. After the cross, Jesus entered the tomb. The tomb is the place of disintegration, where the body rots, falls apart and vanishes into dust. Jesus chose not only to die for us and with us, but also to enter this place of ultimate despair.

From this place of despair, Jesus speaks to us about hope. From this place of rotting, of bad smells, of darkness, he emerges to accompany us as we journey. Even though we are often downcast, Jesus always speaks about hope. And this hope is different from optimism. Jesus is not an optimist or a pessimist. Jesus speaks about hope that is not based on chances that things will get better or worse. His hope is built upon the promise that, whatever happens, God will stay with us at all times, in all places. God is the God of life.
--Henri Nouwen

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
--Romans 8:38-39

jesus easter religion

You Can't Go Home Again

2009-03-31T16:50:00.005-05:00

I was speaking with someone from my church today who told me I made her cry during a recent sermon. Now this happens sometimes, and it can be good or bad. In this case, I'm still not sure which it is.

The text of the sermon was John 2:13-22, Jesus cleansing the Temple. I began the sermon describing the joy I had spending so much time at my grandparents' home in small-town Texas. Then, the part that brought the tears:

"But we all moved away, grandmother and granddaddy died, and the family finally had to decide to sell the house. I went back for a visit not long ago. I click-clacked down the red brick streets—from the highway, through the town square, and down 6th street toward the park. I slowed as I approached my grandparents’ house. My heart lifted as I recalled all the memories and the family Mecca the place once was. I had even entertained ideas of buying the place myself one day, just to get it back in the family. And there I saw…the horror.

My granddaddy used to do a walk-around a few times a day, picking up gum wrappers and other bits of trash, and maintaining the lawn he always kept so delicately manicured. Now it was a mess of scrub and weeds, with children’s toys scattered all around. The fence that guarded the back and side of the house was adorned each spring with a coat of beautiful lilacs. Gone—fence, lilacs—gone, exposing the alley in the back and the street on the side. Perhaps worst of all, the climbing tree—hacked to a stump! Shutters were ragged, paint was peeling, the wooden roof was rotting. In my disbelief I circled the block for another look. My heart sank, and I never wanted to return. You can’t go home again."

I went on to set the stage for Jesus visiting the Temple:

"The Temple is outwardly glorious, but it’s lacking one important thing—the true presence of God. The heart of Israel and the heart of God no longer beat together.

And then he comes. This little carpenter, teacher, itinerant preacher and homeless miracle-worker, walks into the holy city during these Passover preparations and walks right into the Temple. Is he coming to worship, to advance his career, to grow his ministry? No, this is a homecoming. This is not some stranger or even a faithful pilgrim. This is the Son of God going to visit his Father’s house. This is the Lamb of God, whose blood will defeat sin and death once and for all. This is God himself returning to his Temple and fulfilling the long-awaited prophecy. And he doesn’t like what he finds."

I went on to discuss the scandal of Jesus' claim that he was, in fact, the true Temple of God; and how, since Pentecost, we become God's temples, filled with the Holy Spirit. And I asked how God finds his temple--your life--today.

But it was fascinating to me how broken up a few people got about the idea that we can't go home again. It is amazing to me how attached we become to places (and the people who made them special). Obviously, I'm certainly no different. The good news is that God himself is our true home and, as the psalmist wrote, "I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever." Nevertheless, be it ever so humble...

jesus home religion

Playing God's Tune

2009-03-27T08:13:00.003-05:00

For our daughter's birthday in November, my wife and I got her a little pink guitar. Now if you know me, then you know this is not just some plastic toy guitar. This is the real deal, but pint-sized for our half-pint! I tuned it to an “open” tuning so that all she has to do is strum across the strings or put one finger down and it plays a chord. (This is as much for her mother and me as it is for our budding musician.)

As is the case so often with three-year-olds, MJ played her guitar excitedly the day she got it, but she soon moved on to other joys. Recently, however, she has picked it up again. And she has gotten better! She was playing the other day and actually sounded…well, tolerable. She let me have a turn, then she walked over and said, “No, daddy, like this…,” and showed me how to pick the thing. I see a bright future for that kid!

Our heavenly Daddy often behaves similarly with us. He strums the chords of life, inviting us to come to him so he might teach us to play. Our responses, though, are varied. Sometimes we turn a deaf ear to God’s song, choosing instead to only play our own tune. Other times, we intend to do and live well, but we refuse to climb up into his lap and spend the time it takes to learn from him. And occasionally, we hear his song, pay diligent attention to his instruction, and reach out and strum the beautiful music of a life well lived.

This is a daily pattern. Each day the Father picks up the instrument of our lives and begins to show us what we might do and be in him. And each day we have the choice to get “in tune” with him and to experience the day at his tempo, playing our version of his song, or to step out into the world all out of tune and distracted by whatever music pounds loudest in our direction. I would offer the advice of one of my favorite hymns: Hark! How the heavenly anthem drowns all music but its own!

spirituality family inspiration

I Wish I'd Written That (#10-6)

2009-03-18T14:07:00.012-05:00

Here is another installment of I Wish I'd Written That--an eclectic collection of songs that have stricken me as so profound in music and lyric that my only response as a songwriter and music lover could be, "Man! I wish I'd written that!" Take a break and absorb some of these songs that may be new to you or, at least, deserve to be revisited. Also, enjoy #20-16 and #15-11.

10) "Lithium"--Nirvana

Most folks will say give me a good "Smells Like Teen Spirit," but for me, "Lithium" is the place teen angst crosses over into outright madness. The tune is similar to "Teen Spirit" in it's bipolar verse-chorus moods. However, the major key and happiness of "Lithium" takes it a step deeper into Gen X sarcasm and cynicism. You gotta love that opening line: "I'm so happy / 'cause today I found my friends; / they're in my head." When "Lithium" came out, the chord changes were so cool that I actually wrote a song of similar character. But the alienation was something I wasn't yet able to express. Nevertheless, I was (and remain) drawn to it.

9) "Crazy"--Gnarls Barkley

Keeping with the emotional instability theme... A highly unlikely Top 40 hit, "Crazy" wins the prize for best opening line ("I remember when I lost my mind..."), as well as best use of a laugh since "Wipeout." I still get chills at that line: "Who do you think you are? / Ha ha ha! Bless your soul. / You really think you're in control? / Well, I think you're crazy..." (The video also wins the best use of Rorschach ink blots.) All the spaced-out, funky fun of Parliament/Funkadelic, but stripped down to perfect simplicity. Gets under your skin.

8) "Takin' It To the Streets"--Doobie Brothers

I've wished to have written this one as well as "Black Water" (great mixture of acoustic, fiddle music and lyrics like "Catfish are jumping, paddle-wheel's pumping..." to create a sense of place). However, the "brotherhood" message, the descending chords in the bridge, and Michael McDonald's voice push "Streets" into the winner's circle. What a great anthem! (When no one's around, I slip into the sanctuary at church, sit at the piano, and do my best impersonation of this song.)

7) "No More Tears"--Ozzy Osbourne

Dark? Yes. It's Ozzy, for crying out loud! But what an amazing song. It seems a strange disconnect for some that Ozzy claims to have been very inspired and influenced by the Beatles. This song shows that Ozzy is every bit as capable, inventive, and musically sensible as his heroes. At the time it came out, I had written a "classical" chamber piece based on the Robert Browning poem "Porphyria's Lover," in which a man, upon realizing the affection his lover has for him, strangles her with her own hair to freeze the moment forever. So, when Ozzy came out with this version--mixing a similar lyrical theme and heart-achingly beautiful harmonic and melodic progressions with such a thick, heavy stomp--my jaw dropped. Plus, you just have to crank the volume to get the full impact of Zakk Wylde's crunching guitar!

6) "Bohemian Rhapsody"--Queen

Even when I was a kid, not even a composer/songwriter, I wished I could create such beautiful music. My words aren't really needed--most know this is one of the greatest songs ever written. Overplayed during the Wayne's World popularity, yes, but I'm thankful for that great movie exposing a new generation and wider audience to Freddie Mercury and Queen's masterpiece. And didn't we all bang our heads to this even before Wayne and Garth?!

music pop culture best of

The Temptation of Christ...and Us

2009-03-11T15:21:00.005-05:00

When I was about 17, the movie version of Nikos Kazantzakis’s 1951 novel The Last Temptation of Christ* came out. There were uproars and picket lines at movie theaters all over the country. Amarillo, TX was no different. Some friends and I dared to show up at the theater on opening day and, sure enough, there were the picketers—churchy people with bullhorns and signs. “That’s not Jesus up there on that screen!” they would shout. Of course not; it’s Willem Defoe. He's an ACTOR. After the rush of the shouting and controversy, we went in and saw the movie. So what was all the shouting about?

Well, as the name implies, in the movie Jesus is tempted--tempted to cash it all in and not do the whole "Messiah" thing and, instead, to settle down, get married, have children, and die a "normal" death in old age. We know "the rest of the story" (RIP, Paul Harvey), that Jesus did not choose such a path. But why do we have such trouble with the idea of Jesus being tempted?

What do we think is going on when scripture says Jesus was tempted? Do we think he just strolled along in the park with temptations buzzing gently around him like a few bothersome gnats? Why wouldn’t he be tempted with marriage and sex and children and a “normal life”? And why wouldn’t he be tempted not to be the Messiah and not to die the sacrificial death on the cross? We actually know that he was.

Scripture says about Jesus, “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin” (Heb. 4:15). Are we tempted by money, sex, power? So was Jesus. And, again, I don’t think it was just a fleeting thing. He was “tempted in every way just was we are.” What’s the point of Jesus being sinless if there was no real temptation to begin with? No, I think his temptations were at least as real—at least as tempting—as anything we can imagine. But he did overcome, and that’s the point.

I think we have two primary reasons for being so uncomfortable with the thought of Jesus being tempted. One: we think it makes Jesus somehow less “God.” Could God really have those wicked thoughts like I do? Of course! For one thing, do we really think he doesn’t know about sin, that he’s just somebody’s little church-going grandmother with white gloves? (And watch out for those white-gloved grandmothers….) And another thing, God certainly has those thoughts when he’s also 100% human. That’s the point. He doesn’t just stand over against sin. He stands with us in the midst of sin.

The other reason we’re uncomfortable with Jesus’ temptations—and I think this is the main one—is that it let’s us off the holiness hook if Jesus wasn’t really tempted. We think, “Well, of course Jesus didn’t sin. He was God! It’s much tougher for me.” But again, it’s not Jesus’ divinity that’s really the point here. It’s Jesus’ humanity. He was tempted as a child, as a teenager, as a young career man, as a successful leader, and as what the world would consider to be a failure. And he was tempted just…like…we are. The difference is he never gave in.

We're in this 40-day wilderness called Lent, looking at our temptations and sins. But the key thing to remember is what got Jesus through. It’s the same one who led him there to begin with: the Spirit. This Spirit has just descended upon him like. Then the Spirit drives him into the wilderness to be tempted. The Spirit was with him through it all. And the exact same Spirit is with us. Jesus didn’t resist temptation because he was God (though, of course, he is). He resisted temptation because he had God’s Spirit inside him. And so do we. This is a man who hung out at the temple even as a kid, who studied and memorized scripture, who kept his lusts in check by fasting, who got up early to pray. And so can we—church, scripture, fasting, prayer. And this is a man who resisted temptation and overcame sin. And so can we.

*{It should be noted this is not (necessarily) a recommendation of this book or movie, though both are brilliant works of their respective arts. Nevertheless, there is some really freaky-deaky stuff in there that should be approached attentively and with the genre (fiction) in mind.}

Review: U2's No Line on the Horizon

2009-03-03T13:01:00.004-06:00

I still have an excitement about digging into a new album, like a child on Christmas morning. This is especially the case with U2's new work, No Line on the Horizon. As soon as I dropped my daughter off at school, I rushed to my local vendor and plunked down 10 bones for the CD. I'll also be buying the vinyl version soon, but I'm an audiophile nerd like that. In this case, I know it will be worth it.

I'm sorry for those who will only get digital versions, particularly disappointing, gaunt little MP3s. When Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois are at the production helm, the purer and clearer the medium, the better. This is definitely the case with No Line. The band is back in grand Achtung Baby fashion--experimental, deep, atmospheric, and head-on--not that they ever left. They deserve their record number of grammys, and this album should garner more.

The title track kicks right off with a "Mysterious Ways" atmospheric groove. The guitars are in-your-face (as they often are throughout the album), and the beat is punctuated with a distant middle-eastern yelp. Lyrics like "She said, 'Time is irrelevant, it's not linear.' / Then she put her tongue in my ear," show the high-/low-minded tension that is successfully held throughout. Almost every song is very present, yet somehow transcendent--the classic genius of U2.

"Magnificent" is a great love song on the order of the aforementioned tension. It works best (for me) as a love song to God, especially with lines like, "Justified till we die, / you and I will magnify / the Magnificent." However, there is a reality of pain present among the hope, as seen in the chorus, "Only love can leave such a mark / But only love can heal such a scar."

This same mood is heaviest in "White as Snow," which borrows musically from the Advent hymn "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel." The Advent theme of the hymn is carried out masterfully in this song, as seen in lines like "Who can forgive forgiveness where forgiveness is not / Only the lamb as white as snow." Yet the listener is left with the repeated, pleading confession, "If only a heart could be as white as snow."

In the same canon as these is "Moment of Surrender." It is a beautifully spiritual and contemplative marriage of music and lyric in the tradition of songs like "Bad" (from The Unforgettable Fire), "One" (Achtung Baby), and "Grace" (All That You Can't Leave Behind). Like those, this is an instant classic in that U2 sub-genre of truly sacred songs. And, like the other songs on No Line, this one pairs sacred and secular imagery to a high art, as in the line "I was speeding on the subway / through the stations of the cross...," and the varied chorus, "At the moment of surrender / Of vision over visibility / I did not notice the passersby/ and they did not notice me." These lyrics are beautifully surrounded by music that is smooth and warm, perfectly accented with a pipe organ in the mix.

Punching through the more contemplative songs are representations of that other classic U2 sub-genre, raucous anthems. The album's first release, "Get On Your Boots," is the best example. As the Obama campaign successfully used How to Destroy an Atomic Bomb's "City of Blinding Lights" as the sound of hope, "Boots" would be the convoluted reality the day after the inauguration. This song and others, like "Stand Up Comedy," are like romance firmly entrenched in reality, like dancing in the dirty rain. "Night is falling everywhere / Rockets at the fun fair / Satan loves a bomb scare / but he won't scare you," is an example of the in-your-face approach the guys are taking.

And the music is the same. The Edge's guitars are often fuzzy and grinding, and the drums are more up in the mix than ever before. The band is tight and never gets buried in the production, which is a feat considering the ethereal contributions of Eno and Lanois. But that team always makes U2 sound like a 4-piece rock band with their spirits slightly exposed.

Any weak spots are only an aesthetic disconnect between listener and band, rather than any technical or creative shortcomings. I thought the plodding chants of computer commands in "Unknown Caller" were cheesy and off-putting at first. But by the end of the song, the chanting was wrapping itself around me and I realized the humanity breaking through the technology ("Restart and re-boot yourself/ You're free to go"). And the primal mood and mixture of roughness and elegance in "Fez--Being Born" turns out to be just right. That piece is more musical art than pop-song (and what's wrong with that?), so the very gradual delivery and evolution of the lyric and music require patience, but it is only serving the song itself--being born.

When the band came out with All That You Can't Leave Behind in 2000, the headlines read "U2 Saves Rock n' Roll." I don't think rock n' roll is as much in need of saving now as it was then, but a fitting headline might be "U2 Does it Again!" If their recent work had been dismal, No Line would be a revelation. But the last two albums have been revelations. Yet, somehow, this one surpasses even those. It is consistently interesting and relevant. Edge's church-bell guitars chime as majestically as ever, and Bono's wail is as plaintive and powerful. There is a lot of fun, as in the bouncing Dylan-esque vocals of "Breathe," and yet there are painful lines like "Child drinking dirty water from a river bank / Soldier brings oranges he got out from a tank," from the Lou Reed-styled "Cedars of Lebanon." The tension of the album is the perfect expression of our times. Yet, as an expression of the human condition, it seems fitting for any time. That's good art.

Lent and Tony Bennett

2009-02-25T10:37:00.005-06:00

I Left My Heart in San Francisco
The loveliness of Paris

Seems somehow sadly gay

The glory that was Rome

Is of another day

I've been terribly alone

And forgotten in Manhattan

I'm going home to my city by the bay.

I left my heart in San Francisco

High on a hill, it calls to me.

To be where little cable cars

Climb halfway to the stars!

The morning fog may chill the air

I don't care!

My love waits there in San Francisco

Above the blue and windy sea.

When I come home to you, San Francisco,

Your golden sun will shine for me!

San Francisco has always been a special place for my wife and me. We got engaged on a hill by the Golden Gate Bridge at sundown. So, our house and my study at the church are peppered with Golden Gate pictures. On top of all this, Jamie and I got to see Tony Bennett--whom Sinatra called "the best g.d. pop singer in the world"--a few years ago and, of course, "I Left My Heart in San Francisco" is one of his signature songs. Many good thoughts of my dear Love.

Lent is about getting back to our “first Love." Over the course of the year, and my life, I have wandered through many experiences. Those experiences have often left me feeling sad, alone, forgotten, looking at lost glory, and longing for something real. My true home is with my first Love, the God who purposefully made us and all that is.

Sin competes for our affections, and we have too often strayed from true love. Lent is the time when we consider our mortality and the mortality of the things we chase after. It all turns to dust—we will turn to dust—and there is no life apart from God. Nevertheless, there IS life in God—life abundant and eternal.

We fast and/or "give something up" to remind ourselves that we do not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from God’s mouth. God is our life. God is our love. We should long to hear a word from our Love, to find ourselves captured in his gaze and held forever in his embrace. But he isn't the one who wanders.

So, at Lent, we tear up our "little black book" of competing affections. We drag ourselves off the streets where we've been trolling for something more. And we come back to the doorstep of our first Love. "When I come home to you, San Francisco, your golden sun will shine for me!"

I Wish I'd Written That (#15-11)

2009-02-18T14:25:00.010-06:00

Here are numbers 15 through 11 of the songs that plunge me into the sin of covetousness every time I hear them. Again, I'm not saying they're the best songs ever written or even the (technically) best songs by the particular artist. They just capture something that I (and millions of others) connect with and, when I hear them, I say to myself, "I wish I'd written that." Numbers 20-16 can be found here . Look for #10-6 soon...

15) "Desperado"--Eagles

*Why not start with another brilliant Don Henley song? In addition to the fact that I'm a fan of the simpler, more "zen" westerns (e.g. Clint Eastwood spaghettis and Cormac McCarthy books), this song has a personal connection for me. When I was a kid in the 70s and my father had left us (see "Divorce Diary" entries 1 and 2), this song always reminded me of my dad. Even though I was just an 8-year-old kid, I knew that this song was everything I wanted to convey to my wayward father.

Also, just a damn fine piece of songwriting. The piano and lyrics give it that "western" feel, the vocals are expansive and pleading, and the brilliant lyrics could be about an "old west" desperado or just a 21st century lost soul.

14) "Jeremy"--Pearl Jam

*Well, forget all I said about my father on "Desperado." This song about a kid blowing himself away at school has nothing (or little) to do with my upbringing. This is just a perfect mix of lyric, music, and performance.

That opening line, "At home drawing pictures of mountaintops / with him on top, lemon-yellow sun, arms raised in a V. / And the dead lay in pools of maroon below." Amazing! The music matches the lyric in moving between major/carefree and minor/angry. And Eddie's performance...sheesh! I sang this for fun with some friends once and felt as if I'd been through a year of therapy. Very cleansing, yet troubling. And the fact that this pre-dated Columbine, Va. Tech, etc., is also a testament to the prophetic power of the arts. "King Jeremy, the Wicked, ruled his world!" Heavy stuff.

13) "Baba O'Riley"--The Who

*In 1979, two full years before MTV debuted, my big brother and I watched this video on a show called "Video Concert Hall." In my 8-year-old bones, I knew this was rock n' roll. To this day, whenever I hear this or the Who's "Won't Get Fooled Again" on the radio, I have to crank the volume! That guitar...that scream (which many know from TVs "CSI" incarnations)...primal!

The song is plenty, but to watch Roger Daltry swing that mic and Pete Townshend swing that arm and jump is pure rock swagger. If Taylor's "Sweet Baby James" is Songwriting 101, this is Rock n' Roll 101. Also keep in mind, this band held the Guiness Record for loudest band. So, imagine what it sounds like in an auditorium when Pete's guitar comes in. "The exodus is here!"

12) "Pink Houses"--John Mellencamp

*When the title itself paints enough of an image to sum up the whole song, you know you're onto something. Anyone who has paid attention on road trips knows what Mellencamp is talking about. And anyone who has paid attention to politics and the devolution of the American dream the last 30-odd years knows what Mellencamp is really talking about.

The perfect marriage of lyrics like "They told me when I was younger, / they said, 'Boy you're gonna be president.' / But just like everything else / those little crazy dreams just kinda came and went. / Aw, but ain't that America..." and a great acoustic guitar riff. Mellencamp has many great songs, but this is the one that really put him in line with Woody Guthrie, Bob Dylan, and Bruce Springsteen.

11) "Hallelujah"--Leonard Cohen

*This is the song I'd use in the Songwriting 101 class after "Sweet Baby James." It defies my comments.

I Wish I'd Written That (#20-16)

2009-02-11T13:12:00.007-06:00

There are songs all around us. As a songwriter, I've written songs about seeing a girl "sitting on a park bench, stringy hair and buckled knees." I've seen two people walking in the mall wearing Kurt Cobain and Pillsbury Doughboy t-shirts, which yielded the line "If it came down to hanging with Kurt Cobain or the Pillsbury Doughboy, / I'd take the Doughboy every time!" I came up with a melody based on the rythm and intervals of the constantly-churning printer at a "day job" I once had. You get the idea.

Not only are there songs all around us waiting to be written, there are also A LOT of great songs already written. This doesn't prevent me, however, from wishing I'd been the one to write them. These are not necessarily the most popular representations of a specific songwriter or era, just that blend of lyric and music that perfectly captures a mood. (Be warned, that mood for me is most often melancholy.) I don't know if non-songwriters think this way, but I think we can all imagine the joy of being onstage wind-milling across a guitar or twirling a mic stand with thousands of watts of energy around us.

This started as I was driving with my wife on a weekend getaway recently. We were listening to Don Henley's greatest hits, I was thinking during his masterful "Sunset Grill" that I wish I'd written that, then "The Boys of Summer" came on and I said, "Damn! That guy can write a song!" And on it went through "The Heart of the Matter," "End of the Innocence," "Dirty Laundry," the lesser-known but awesome sequel to "Hotel California"--"The Garden of Allah," etc.

So here, without further adieu and in no particular order, are the first five of twenty songs I wish I'd written. Others will be posted in coming days. I hope giving bite sizes will encourage some to check out the songs (some are linked to videos), and maybe even purchase a few. The joys of iTunes.

20) "Boys of Summer"--Don Henley
*(Figured I'd get it out of the way.) Perfectly yet realistically articulates the coming of age of a generation ("Thought I knew what love was.../what did I know?"), but also wonderfully expresses that end of summer romance we all know.

19) "Sweet Baby James"--James Taylor
*JT is one of the best ever, but this one is textbook craftsmanship. If I were teaching a course on songwriting, I would use this to teach about lyric structure. Masterful use of internal rhymes:

There is a young cowboy who lives on the range.
His horse and his cattle are his only companions,
he works in the saddle and he sleeps in the canyons,
Waiting for summer, his pastures to change.

Look at that! "range/change, cattle/saddle, companions/canyons" and on it goes, verse after verse of perfection.

18) "Kashmir"--Led Zeppelin
*Talk about capturing a sense of space! In both lyric and music this song transports you to a whole other place. Someone will say "Stairway" or "Whole Lotta Love," but "Kashmir" is the one that most gets to me. Led Zep definitely did their own thing.

17) "Synchronicity II"--The Police
*You've got to be pretty amazing to write a top 40 song based on Jungian psychology. But Sting is always up to the task. This song effortlessly moves between a musically upbeat day in the life of a suburban family ("grandmother screaming at the wall. / We have to shout above the din of our Rice Krispies."), and the haunt of something crawling from the slime of a dark Scottish lake. Synchronicity indeed!

16) "Bittersweet Symphony"--The Verve
*This is a beautiful, haunting mixture of strings, huge production and rock n' roll attitude. Because of industry and band struggles, The Verve had trouble really breaking through. But this song was enough of a statement for a whole career. "'Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life. / Trying to make ends meet, you're a slave to money then you die... / I'm a million different people from one day to the next, / I can't change my mold, no, no, no..." That's powerful stuff! And the video with the lead singer just walking down the street past people is an equally fine piece of art.

Take time to enjoy and digest. More to come...

Joy-Full

2009-02-05T10:40:00.006-06:00

In a study I'm leading at our church, we just finished a section on the disciplines of “slowing down” and “celebrating.” It is impossible to know God if we do not understand this principle: God is the most joyful being in the entire universe. And God created everything with joy and satisfaction, calling it “very good.” By way of contrast, John Ortberg in The Life You’ve Always Wanted offers this alternate rendering of the creation story in Genesis 1:

In the beginning, it was nine o’clock, so God had to go to work. He filled out a requisition to separate light from darkness. He considered making stars to beautify the night, and planets to fill the skies, but thought it sounded like too much work; and besides, thought God, “That’s not my job.” So he decided to knock off early and call it a day. And he looked at what he had done and he said, “It’ll have to do.”

On the second day God separated the waters from the dry land. And he made all the dry land flat, plain, and functional, so that—behold—the whole earth looked like Idaho. He thought about making mountains and valleys and glaciers and jungles and forests, but he decided it wouldn’t be worth the effort. And God looked at what he had done that day and said, “It’ll have to do.”

And God made a pigeon to fly in the air, and a carp to swim in the waters, and a cat to creep upon dry ground. And God thought about making millions of other species of all sizes and shapes and colors, but he couldn’t drum up any enthusiasm for any other animals—in fact, he wasn’t too crazy about the cat. Besides, it was almost time for the Late Show. So God looked at all he had done, and God said, “It’ll have to do.”

And at the end of the week, God was seriously burned out. So he breathed a big sigh of relief and said, “Thank Me, it’s Friday.”

Thankfully, this is not how the story goes. God sings and dances over his creation, over you. He delights in you and has wonderful purpose for you. But we must slow down and listen to God and to those around us. We must enter into the celebratory dance of life. There, we will begin to find the joy that is much deeper than giddiness and silliness. Because there, we will find Jesus, whose dying wish was that his joy might be in us, that our joy might be full.

Not Fade Away

2009-02-03T13:14:00.009-06:00

50 years ago today, the true King of Rock n' Roll died when Buddy Holly (et al) was lost in the snow and wind of a fallen midnight plane flight. There's Elvis, Chuck Berry, Little Richard, Bill Haley, Eddie Cochran, Jerry Lee Lewis and the list of rock pioneers and champions could go on. But Lubbock, TX's Buddy Holly, from his use of the Fender Stratocaster as his primary instrument to his use of the celesta, from his employment of multi-tracking technology to his signature glasses, Buddy Holly was a true original.

Elvis sounded black, but Buddy actually won over the crowd at the Apollo Theater. Lennon and McCartney were honored to meet "the King," but they named their band "The Beatles" in part to honor Buddy's band The Crickets. Bob Dylan spoke reverently of seeing Buddy at a gig just a few days before the crash, of the mystical moment that they actually made eye contact. The stories of influence and respect go on and on, but in the end it's the music.

Watch this 1958 performance and notice how much Buddy does NOT fit in with the stiff white people around him. Feels like he's about to jump out of his tuxedo. Now THAT'S rock n' roll. Just listen to the alienation and longing of "Peggy Sue" and "Maybe Baby," the elation and joy of "That'll Be the Day" and "Oh Boy," and the flat-out rocking of "Rave On" and the Bo Diddley hambone of "Not Fade Away." Treat yourself to some Buddy Holly on this 50th anniversary of "the day the music died." He deserves it...and it's good for your soul! Rave On!!

Divorce Diary*

2009-02-02T13:20:00.004-06:00

June 3, 1977--

It was odd, but my dad seemed more excited about what lay ahead than troubled by what he was leaving behind, namely my mother, my brother and me. He had finally sold the beautiful, ivy-covered family home in Columbia, South Carolina, where he had briefly been a promising young psychology professor, and he had recently joined us back in my mother's small hometown in Texas. He had come to help us get settled among my maternal grandparents and other family, and then he would set out to travel the world.

For the last few days he had been assembling his gear: canteen, cut-off shorts, binoculars, lots of books, sleeping bag, yoga mat, all gathered into a brand new, aluminum-framed backpack the likes of which I'd never seen before. He was very proud of that backpack.

We got up that morning and got in the car. I wasn't sure what exactly was going on, being only 6 years old, but I knew dad was about to leave on a trip. We drove down our street, out past the high school and the field of cotton across the street, onto the highway and out past the John Deere dealership, and we continued out of town for about ten minutes. We pulled onto a crossover and headed back toward town for a minute. I wondered what this meant.

We finally pulled onto the median, under a line of three trees. We all got out of the car. My dad hugged and kissed my mother and my big brother and me. He walked to the trunk and got out his brand new, aluminum-framed backpack. He hugged us again. I smelled his jojoba shampoo, the mildew of the books in his backpack, his nylon sleeping bag. Trucks roared by us.

We got back in the car and pulled onto the highway. I looked out the back window at my dad standing by the highway, his thumb stuck out to hitch a ride...somewhere. It would take another year for me to realize he would never be back to stay.

*A series of reflections I've begun upon realizing I'm now about the same age my parents were when they divorced. You may read Part 1 Here. You may or may not have a comment. But if you or your family have gone through a divorce, please feel free to share your own feelings. If you are considering divorce, please stop and consider the long-term ramifications of this decision, especially if children are involved. Consider giving counseling a chance, or I am happy to dialog with you from my own experience as a child of divorce and as a pastor (e-mail me). To be continued...

"The List" is Lacking!

2009-01-29T09:57:00.005-06:00

I've never been good at following or joining. People often ask me to attend a meeting of this organization or that club, and I just can't. There's nothing wrong with like-minded groupings, and I do belong to a few. Being a joiner is no worse or better than not. But for the most part, "joining" is just not me. I've tried it and found myself losing myself--my patience, my time, my identity. It's just something I'm not very good at, and I'm becoming comfortable with that.

Upon evaluating my "List: 2008" (below), I find most of it lacking in originality or really memorable items. I think it's true that 2008 was shallow in some parts of the arts pool. But I also find that I'm not wading in as deeply as I once did. Most of my lists pretty much match the popular, top-grossing lists from any entertainment rag. In short, when it comes to the arts, I'm beginning to be a bit of a follower.

Now, I'm not much for snobbery--disliking something just because it's popular or liking something just because it's obscure. What I'm getting at is I'm nauseous from a diet of soul-candy, of what the media is telling me to like. We know the nominees for best picture and the top-selling albums aren't really (necessarily) the best things released last year. These are mostly the things that got the most hype--some deservedly, most because of corporate machinery.

It's the corporate machinery that I find myself caught in, ground through gears and belts of artistic tedium. I stand beside the things I've listed as having gotten to me. Kings of Leon and Metallica put out really good albums. I thoroughly enjoyed Tropic Thunder and Fringe. But the best thing I took in last year was Graham Greene's novel The Power and the Glory, and it was published in 1940! My book list probably shows the most originality, so maybe I just need to read more.

My resolution, though, is to dig deeper. I know music and film, and I know there must be something coming along in 2009 that will really nourish me, though the popular media likely won't serve it. It's hard because fatherhood and pastoring limit the exploration time I enjoyed in younger days. But my artistic senses have only sharpened as I've aged. I will NOT go gentle into that good night, driving along the cultural highway in a state of hypnosis. I will redouble my efforts to discover truly touching and meaningful entertainment that will stick with me beyond 2009, which is more than I can say for most of what I encountered in 2008.

The List: 2008

2009-01-27T11:19:00.005-06:00

Stuck at home with January's chill laying a blanket of ice across this intersection of the Texas plains and Hill Country, I've decided to dash off a list of my 2008 favorites. I'm making no attempts at real criticism or even serious evaluation. I'm not even attempting to restrict myself to things new in 2008 (though I try). These are simply things that were "new" to me in 2008 and touched me or made me think enough that I felt the desire to share them here. I admire technique, but I'm also of a subjectivist school of thought when it comes to the arts. So please don't waste space telling me I'm "wrong" about something that touched me, but please feel free to share the things that you encountered on your journey through 2008. Here, in no particular order, are some Fave 5's of 2008.

Movies

Tropic Thunder
Wall*E
Iron Man
Slumdog Millionaire
The Dark Knight

Television

Fringe
Life on Mars
Battlestar Galactica
Eli Stone
Mad Men

Books

The Power and the Glory by Graham Greene
The Road by Cormac McCarthy
Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell
All Art is Propaganda by George Orwell
Indignation by Philip Roth

Music

Only by the Night by Kings of Leon
Viva la Vida by Coldplay
Death Magnetic by Metallica
Tha Carter III by Lil Wayne
Consolers of the Lonely by The Raconteurs

Honorable & Dishonorable (aka Guilty Pleasure) Mentions: Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Election 2008, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, Dangerous Laughter by Steven Millhauser, The Daily Show, "I'm Yours" by Jason Mraz, Step Brothers, Guns n' Roses' Chinese Democracy, Randy Pausch's The Last Lecture, the return of Journey with Filipino Steve Perry sound-alike, Born Standing Up by Steve Martin, Kath & Kim, Allison Krauss & Robert Plant (and T-Bone Burnett)'s Raising Sand, Tina Fey

Across the Tracks

2009-01-20T13:18:00.010-06:00

I grew up in segregation. The particularly unusual thing is that I was a child and teen in the 1970s and 80s. I didn't know segregation in school and school-sponsored events, because that was illegal. But the segregation I knew was in everything else, in so-called "community."

The Texas Panhandle town in which I spent my childhood was a sweet little hamlet, with a perfect townsquare surrounding the county courthouse, and with streets like red-brick arteries flowing outward to commerce and cotton and churches and pre-War houses filled with post-War promise. It was simply a nice place to grow up.

But what I didn't really notice until later was that, after school, all my black friends went to their homes literally across the tracks, in the run-down community on the other side of the highway, just before the cemetery. We never played together, though I occasionally saw them in summertime at the city swimming pool. I never saw them at the "Private Skate and Swim Club," because we all know what "private" means. Again, this was the 1980s.

Today is a great day for our country. I hope and pray for Barack Obama's administration. I hope and pray for these people called Americans living under Obama's watch. I want this to prove to be an even more positively historic presidency in four or eight years than it is today. But no matter what happens, today is a great day.

After today, Jeff and Paul and Johnny and Wallace and all the other black guys I went to school with and played football with--but never rode bikes with or skated with--those guys and girls can look their children in the eyes and tell them truthfully that there is somewhere else for them, somewhere besides "across the tracks." After today, I can look at my own beloved daughter--the offspring of a black biological father--and I can tell my beautiful child that in America, it is really possible that people are judged not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character. After today, the obligation of history rests not on the unspoken evils of unjust belief systems, but squarely on the shoulders of the people--all the people.

I Was Just Kidding!

2009-01-12T16:53:00.005-06:00

It's those little stings that hurt the most. They're like little daggers that hit at just the right spot, right in the stomach where the memories are hot and bloody. Every time a pleasant moment is interrupted by the memory of the barbed words, there's a twist in the gut just enough to remind you that the idiots who don't think before they speak have it better than the rest of us.

Who are these people? How have they come to the point where they just grab at our dignity and humanity like a wolf tearing at a bloody kill? Sometimes they think they're kidding--or they hide behind "the joke," which is unlike anything I've ever understood to be a joke. They nose their way in where they don't belong, offering unwelcome opinions. Their words are runny dung in a baby's diaper.

Leave us alone! Some of us choose our words, attempting (with modest success) to evaluate how what we are about to say might affect the listener. We actually choose not to say some things because we don't want to hurt another. And words hurt, you maggot-mouthed pile of carrion!

Peace Train

2008-12-18T14:57:00.008-06:00

As I sit in a coffee house and write this, a train is rumbling by blowing its whistle and disturbing the coffee-drinking peace of those around me. I remember the time my wife and I had just moved to Vancouver, British Columbia, and we were camping in the most peaceful grouping of trees beside a vast glassy lake that reflected the surrounding snow-capped mountains. Sometime after we drifted off to sleep, we heard the thunderous sound, felt the tornadic rush and saw the midday light of a train that charged through maybe twenty surprising yards away!

Trains. When I lived in California near the famous Tehachapi railroad loop, a friend and I used to actually entertain the idea of hopping a train, just to see what would happen and to say we did it (for legal reasons, I won't say whether or not we ever did). My 3-year-old daughter is obsessed with the Christmas train we got to go around our tree. And to top it all off, the toy in her kids’ meal just yesterday was what? Yep, train.

There’s something about trains that captures the minds of many. Trains are loud and powerful and utilitarian. But I think it’s that they seem unstoppable that most holds our imaginations, tapping into our natural wanderlust. Trains have their own tracks, and they travel unimpeded by traffic or houses or even mountains. They just go, and they go to all sorts of interesting places that are anywhere but here. That’s what gets us—trains can take us somewhere else and let us enjoy the countryside as we go.

Unfortunately, we sometimes look at God in that sort of train-like way. The point of entering into a relationship with God, we tell ourselves, is so that God can take us anywhere but here and maybe let us enjoy the countryside as we go. We’ll sing phrases like, “And now I am happy all the day,” and then we’ll just fly away to heaven. That’s what faith is all about, right?

God might be like a train, but not because he takes us away from it all. God is like a train because he is the God who comes, not the God who goes. God is indeed a powerful, unstoppable force. But we are not waiting for him to take us way. Instead, we are to be about laying track so God can come into our midst, even as we follow him—the Way—on into the sunrise. I have to laugh because, as some sort of Jungian joke, the song “Peace Train” by Cat Stephens has just come on the radio in the coffee house. Choo-choo!

Your Favorite Cross-Over Song

2008-12-15T12:10:00.003-06:00

Well, judging by the amount of hits my blog got vs. the amount of comments on the last post, perhaps the ideas were tough to come by. So, I'll expand the brainstorming to include any secular-to-sacred cross-over. Here's what I mean...

I recently did a rare thing of preaching through a song (for more, see post "Singing vs. Preaching"). The scripture reading was Romans 8:31-39 ("...nothing can separate us from the love of God..."). And for the sermon I sang the Bob Dylan (as popularized by Garth Brooks) song "To Make You Feel My Love." As I sang, I had images on the screen of Jesus carrying the cross ("I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue / I'd go crawling down the avenue, / there's nothing that I wouldn't do / to make you feel my love"), walking on the water, and of course, being crucified. You get the idea. I do this rarely, and only in the context of a consistently challenging and serious preaching/teaching ministry. But it proved to be life-changing for a few people, really breaking through where more "traditional" sermons had not. Of course, it wasn't the sermon that broke through but the Spirit of the Living God working through the story of redemption. But music helped tell that story, and it wasn't a hymn or praise song, but a love song written by Bob Dylan.

So, in that vein, what "secular" song does that for you? What "non-Christian" song do you hear and think, "This is exactly how I feel about God," or "...how I think God feels about us. This tells the story!" It's always been interesting to me how narrow Christian radio is. They won't play U2 doing "Beautiful Day" or Peter Gabriel doing "In Your Eyes," but they will play "Christian" artists doing those exact songs. Baffling! So what would you program on your "spiritual/Christian" radio station?

Your Christmas Adaptation!

2008-12-12T14:28:00.004-06:00

"You've GOT to be kidding!" I yelled to my car radio the other morning. My surfing had stopped at the all-Christmas station to hear the great wall-of-sound "Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home)" by the Ronettes--Phil Spector may be an insane murder, but he is one hell of a producer. My head still bobbing as the song faded out, it took me a minute to realize what was happening next.

Just as my finger was reaching to get away from Bette Midler's "From a Distance," I thought, "Wait a minute! This station's playing all Christmas music. Are they considering this song a Christmas song?" And then I heard sleigh bells in the mix. And then references to "Silent Night" and other Christmas staples. "What the hell? They're trying to turn this awful song into an even more awful Christmas song? You've GOT to be kidding!"

I've always hated that song. Not only because of the extreme schmaltz, but because the message is horrible--the idea that God is watching us from a distance. Not only is it depressing and Deist, it's just plain creepy. But to turn it into a Christmas song is outright blasphemous. It's one thing if someone wants to sing about generic "holidays" or Winter and snow. It's altogether different when someone tries to make an actual Christmas song that pretty much denies the Incarnation--the whole point of Christmas--by saying, not that the Divine became flesh and dwelt among us, but that God is only passively watching us...from a distance. Sad, sad, sad...

Okay, rant over. I want to know what non-Christmas songs would make good Christmas/Seasonal songs. They could make a deep statement--Dylan's "The Times, They Are a-Changin'" or U2's "Beautiful Day"--or they could just be fun--Randy Newman's "Short People" sung to an elf, Marilyn Monroe's "Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend" etc. The lyrics may need some seasonal tweaking, but it shouldn't need a total re-write. This is a chance to exercise some creativity, so let's share some meaningful or silly ideas.

Paint the Dream

2008-12-10T07:02:00.003-06:00

“I dream my painting; then I paint my dream.” Vincent van Gogh, who wrote and lived these words, is one of my favorite painters. He had a way of actually painting the air, of painting the energy and life of God’s creation rather than just painting a wheat field or a night sky. (Of course, he was crazy! But, as Seal sings, we're never gonna survive unless...) Whenever I’m privileged to be in a museum that is displaying van Gogh's paintings, I spend long moments leaning in and marveling at the way he so intentionally caked on thick swirls of brilliant color. He was not tentative in his art—when van Gogh painted something, he meant it.

This idea of dreaming the painting, and then painting the dream is somewhat like what the church is about. Each week we act out our worship in symbols, attempting in scripture and song and sacrament to move from shadow into the light of the Living God—we dream the painting.

But as we dream the painting together, a strange thing begins to happen: we actually begin to paint the dream. In worshiping this God, his marred image in us begins to be restored. We go out and show the world the energy and life of God. Like the caked on, swirling paint of van Gogh, we begin to show the un-showable. Who thought they would ever see the air? Yet there it is, right there on van Gogh’s canvas. And who thought they would ever see God? Yet there he is, right there in a life of mercy and love. Our brothers and sisters in the Eastern Orthodox tradition consider what happens in worship to be "real" life, and the world "out there" to be more like a dream. Surprise!

Advent and Christmas are also like dreaming and painting. Advent is like a time of dreaming as we watch and wait and hope. And early on Christmas morning we see that Savior, that King of heaven and earth the world dreamed of for so many generations, showing the un-showable, being born “unto us” and laid in a feeding trough…just as the angels proclaimed to the shepherds on that Starry Night.

Best & Worst Christmas Songs

2008-12-04T09:44:00.008-06:00

I attended a gathering at the Abilene Women's Club yesterday for whom I was to be the "entertainment." My lovely wife went with me and we enjoyed a nice brunch with the group, followed by my bit. I was instructed to do some "Christmas" songs, by which was meant tunes appropriate for...well, an Abilene Women's Club brunch. I admit I cringed a bit while weeding through my options--slim pickins to say the least. My final set list was: "O Come, All Ye Faithful," "Blue Christmas," "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," "O Little Town of Bethlehem," and "Silver Bells."

I was not thrilled with this set; and the fact that, after I sang "Blue Christmas" in my best Elvis baritone, a younger-middle-aged woman stood up and shouted out, "Let's see those hips shaking!" is exactly why I feel the set didn't quite convey what Advent is about. But hey, I'm a pastor who likes to have fun, and a good performer has to know his audience. Plus, the tunes I chose were decent, sounded good on my guitar, and got the Christmas-sweatered ladies in the spirit--that is to say, the spirit of shopping and parties and TV specials and Christmas sweaters.

Now it's time for: You Make the Call! What is and is NOT on your Advent/Christmas set list? What are your most and least favorite Advent/Christmas/Seasonal songs/hymns? And why? (You might also include whose rendition you consider best...and worst.)

Divorce Diary*

2008-12-01T12:28:00.004-06:00

June 16, 1978--
"Strike one!" he barked. He was a bull-dog of a man--short, thick, jowly. He was a coach in title only, since he didn't coach us about anything but just called us "panty-wastes" and told us what positions to play--never how to play them. This was just baseball practice, but it felt like a naked spelling bee.

"Strike two!"

I thought it was only a strike if you swung and missed. Why did he keep calling strikes with me just standing there, sweating?

I was seven years old and a head taller than everyone in my class. I wasn't fat. My red, Sears Toughskin jeans were for "husky" boys, so that's what I was. But I just knew everyone was staring at me. It was bad enough that everyone always stared at me because of my size. It was worse that everyone always stared at me because I was the only boy in the whole small Texas town whose parents were divorced and whose father had moved far away. Now everyone was staring at me because I didn't have a clue how to play baseball. But I didn't have a choice.

"Strike three, you're out!"

He didn't have to sound so happy about it.

"You don't stand on the plate when you're batting, Pelfrey."

Now how the hell was I supposed to know that? And why didn't he tell me to begin with? Oh the power of shame to teach a lesson--and to crush a young spirit in one guttural bark.

My mom had taken me to Gibson's to buy a glove and bat with money held out from her four jobs. But my hippie dad had left two years before to go find himself, and my brother was too much older to mess around with his fat, er, husky kid brother.

Why weren't you supposed to stand on the plate when you're batting? What's it there for?

In my twenties I took another stab at it, actually fell in love with baseball, and developed a swing that elicited compliments from baseball-playing friends, a few coaches among them. But I taught myself, dammit. Hitting, pitching, fielding, scores and stats--all the fundamentals, I taught myself.

*I recently realized that I'm now about the same age my parents were when they divorced. There was no custody battle or harsh words. Just a father who went off to find himself, and a childhood that got lost in the process. You may or may not have a comment. But if you or your parents have gone through a divorce, please feel free to share your own feelings. If you are considering divorce, please stop and consider the long-term ramifications of this decision, especially if children are involved. Consider giving counseling a chance, or I am happy to dialog with you from my own experience as a child of divorce and a pastor (e-mail me). To be continued...

All-Time Greatest Singers

2008-11-24T10:05:00.007-06:00

Rolling Stone magazine's latest cover story features the all-time greatest singers. Ballots were sent to scores of musicians, producers, executives, etc., including everyone from 50s country-pop darling Brenda Lee to Evanescence's Amy Lee to Rush's Geddy Lee, 70s singer-songwriter Carole King to blues legend B.B. King, the Late Show's Paul Shaffer, Rolling Stone Keith Richards (whose ballot is featured in the "Editor's" section) and, of course, self-proclaimed "g*dd*mn prince of darkness" Ozzy Osborne.

I have to confess a guilty pleasure of mine that arose when I saw the cover story. It's funny how these fleeting thoughts come and go with the brain's electricity. I first thought it interesting (but appropriate) that Bob Dylan was featured on the cover I received (there are four different covers). He is certainly known for his singing, but not for its melodious sweetness. So, right off I know "great" is going to be a broad category for these singers. I also know my guilty pleasure will not be among the top 100--too commercial, too sappy, too pretty. Nevertheless, to my delight, there at number 76 was Journey's Steve Perry--the perfect combination of nose and throat. When Perry pleads in his soaring tenor "Don't stop believin'," you think you just might make it through another night. Don't lie, you know you feel it too! For a stroll down amnesia lane, take a listen to what he does with his 7 seconds of "We Are the World" (sandwiched at the 2:30 mark between two other sweet-voiced white boys, Kenny Loggins and Daryl Hall--also, you gotta love the rawness of the Boss, no. 36). The video features a number of other vocalists who made the top 100.

So, without further adieu, here (spoiler alert) are the top 10: 10-James Brown; 9-Stevie Wonder; 8-Otis Redding; 7-Bob Dylan; 6-Marvin Gaye; 5-John Lennon; 4-Sam Cooke; 3-Elvis Presley; 2-Ray Charles; 1-Aretha Franklin. Check out the whole feature, including playlists of the best from each of the top 100.

I can't believe they left off ________! Fill in the blank. Who got robbed? Who do you say is/are the all-time greatest? What makes a "great" singer--power, technique, influence, relevance, musicality, great songs? Turn others on to some folks they may not know or have forgotten about.

Review: Chinese Democracy

2008-11-20T15:19:00.008-06:00

In late 1987, toward the end of a decade dominated by a sabre-rattling and fear-mongering administration, glossy celebrity worship, bank scandals, and music so slick and lifeless it seemed little more than a corpse made up for its own funeral, I had a late-night revelation. I was a 16-year-old hard rock guitarist and occasional high-school student, watching "Headbanger's Ball" on MTV one weekend night, when I heard the banshee cry: You know where you are? You in the jungle, baby! You're gonna diiiiie! With Axl's scream and Slash's grinding riff I was welcomed to the jungle, where it seemed the culture had been for so long, but now the gleaming veneer was cracked and the ugly truth was punching free. Appetite for Destruction was just about a perfect album--dark ("Welcome to the Jungle", "Nightrain"); anthemic ("Paradise City"); even poppy ("Sweet Child o' Mine"); and all with the blood of 80s corruption (see "It's So Easy" and "Mr. Brownstone") running through its veins.

Now, another decade of said sabre-rattling, scandals, and gloss. And now--15 years in the making--another nearly perfect album from Guns n' Roses, Chinese Democracy. I have to admit resentment toward Axl's prima dona antics over the years, but his genius is undeniable and work like this is why we put up with him. From the opening strains of incidental noise, it is clear that this album is going to be an event. Songs like the title song, "If the World" (a perfect fit in the movie Body of Lies), and "Riad n' the Bedouins" mark an expanded scope for G n' R into a more "world" sound, employing Middle-Eastern textures and references appropriate to our times. Present in songs like "Shackler's Revenge" is the familiar mixture of Axl's overdubbed low-high vocals, which sound like his own internal split between meditative and manic! The traditional dark lyrical content is also present, as in "Shackler's" where Axl repeats, "I don't believe there's a reason/I don't believe it." There are many familiar G n' R elements keeping Chinese Democracy right in line with the "band's" catalog.

Absent, however, are Slash's riffs. Like the Rolling Stones ("Satisfaction"), G n' R used to be a "riff band," with songs like "Jungle" and "Sweet Child" (and most others) defined by Slash's opening guitar riff. The new G n' R markedly departs from such raw and traditional blues-based rock sensibilities, in exchange for drum loops and slicker production. Nevertheless, the guitar work is stellar! Axl has surrounded himself with considerable talent and, though the guitar lacks Slash's personality, the technique is flawless and there are many moments that require words like "tasty" and "elegant" and even "magnificent." And for guitarists like myself it is great to herald that, at least on Chinese Democracy, the guitar solo is back!

The few lower points on the album have to do with over-producing ("Scraped") and sentimentality ("This I Love"), though even these are buoyed by lyrical and musical inventiveness. Also, I would be remiss not to single out "Street of Dreams," perhaps the most beautiful of all of Axl's writing. Yes, the song is radio-ready, but it deserves any play it will hopefully get. A more mature "November Rain," "Dreams" moves through beautiful chord changes and uplifting guitar play that truly elevates the soul. "Better" will be a good option for rock radio, and "Catcher in the Rye" even borders on prog-rock with its various movements. Axl's lyrical craftsmanship has sharpened as the well from which he draws seems to have deepened considerably. Cliches are few and lyrics are biting, personal, gritty, and even cathartic and spiritual--often in the same song (from "Prostitute"--What would you say if I told you that I'm to blame?/What would you do if I had to deny your name?). Basically, the album's high points are many and varied--take your pick! Like any G n' R record, there is something for just about everyone.

Indeed, the entire album seems to be a concept a decade-and-a-half in the making, but somehow landing right in stride with the rapid-fire 21st century. The despair and darkness that so plagued Axl and so defined the Guns n' Roses of 1987 still lurks throughout Chinese Democracy, but there is light. The unusual song "Madagascar" employs audio from Martin Luther King Jr., sounding notes of hope (Forgive them that tear down my soul/Bless them that they might grow old), again appropriate for our times. Rumors of this album's release have been spread for years, but with its broader lyrical and musical scope, and cries for justice and healing--both personal and global--the timing of this release seems like marketing genius. Just as our ears and souls are glazing over again, Axl arrives to wail us out of musical complacency. Welcome to...Chinese Democracy!

Singing vs. Preaching

2008-11-18T11:56:00.004-06:00

Regarding the previous post "Music on Mars," I want to begin a discussion on the power of music in worship. I am amazed at the power of music to lift our spirits and minds into the presence of God--so much so that music (for good and ill) has become almost synonymous with worship. Is this good or bad? Can singing the Word replace traditionally "preaching" the Word? Do we place too much value on music in our worship, or not enough for the 21st-century mind? Why does music have this power?

Music from Mars

2008-11-18T10:20:00.004-06:00

I recently commented on my Twitter and facebook that I think Life on Mars has the best soundtrack of any television show, not least of which is the show's title which is a great David Bowie song. It's amazing the power music has to really alter the mood of a visual scene. How about you? What do you say is the TV show with the best soundtrack, and we can expand the question into movie soundtracks. Also, why does music have such power?

Sunrise Secrets--Coffee or Crack

2008-11-14T13:33:00.007-06:00

Black sweatshirt hood gathered around my face, I walk through the streets at sunrise, when "the Holy Ghost over the bent world broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings." The sun is emerging from the horizon, though I only see its light touching the tops of taller houses. The full white moon still shines overhead in the cold blue sky. The still neighborhood begins to stir--lights glowing in the windows as coffee is made and children get ready for school.

Who are these people? What secrets are they keeping--fears and dreams? Who am I to them or they to me? Ah! The discovery. These questions bring or forbid the dawn, because across town there are homeless families stirring in their car-homes, prostitutes striding home with false pride stretched over numbed shame, junkies lying in deathly bliss having silenced the secrets--fears and dreams. And we're back in my neighborhood.

House or car, school or street, coffee or crack, is it a fine line? It may not seem so from suburbia, but for the homeless and the whore and the junkie it is all an unholy ghost--a life just on the edge of sunrise. And this is true of our love as well, of our relationships--the things that go on forever. If only we would allow the sun to rise, night may never come again.
Help Me: What keeps us from truly relating to each other?

Change Your Mind in 2009!

2008-11-13T12:06:00.000-06:00

Well, the historic 2008 presidential campaign is history. The ads and debates and talking points and scandals and mudslinging and polling are over, though the 2012 campaigning can’t be far away! No matter how you voted or what your political leanings, it is our duty as people of faith to pray for our president and leaders, and to serve others as children and heirs of God’s kingdom. But the campaign is over!

I have to admit, though, I already sort of miss the campaign. The news was just a bit more interesting then. Maybe it was a little like watching sports—who’s up today, who’s down, who’s advancing and who’s falling behind, who’s injured and who’s committing unsportsmanlike conduct! So, to fill the campaign void in my heart, I’m launching my own campaign of sorts.

The campaign I’m launching isn’t one that can be easily polled, though its forward or backward movements can certainly be felt. It is not a campaign between different factions or parties, though there are two sides to choose from. This campaign is not a grasping at power, though it will surely result in much greater strength the longer the campaign advances. My campaign does not have room for attack ads or mudslinging; just the opposite, in fact.

So what am I campaigning for? Today I declare my campaign to “Change Your Mind in 2009!” Say it with me: Change Your Mind in 2009! Change Your Mind in 2009! “Change my mind about what?” you may ask. Well, everything!
Tucked into the highly quotable book of Philippians, in chapter 4, there is little verse 8 that just explodes with the potential to change our lives—by changing our minds. Paul writes, “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” I’ll let you think about that verse for yourself, and we’ll revisit it soon. For now, make your campaign signs and hit the streets—Change Your Mind in 2009! Change Your Mind in 2009!