Thoughts and Musings on Faith, Music, Family, Life

Bad rap + church announcements = train wreck

There are creative, innovative, appropriate ways to blend church and culture in a manner that preserves the integrity of both and keeps the church relevant while remaining honest to its mission in the world.

And then there is this:

Sigh.....

Where to begin?  Let''s start with the song itself.  It's BAD.  And not bad in a good way. To paraphrase Bon Jovi, it gives "bad" a bad name.  I'm not a fan of rap music and even I know this is an offense to the genre.

Beyond that, though, what exactly is being conveyed in the name of "church?"  Hmm.  Well, for one thing it seems to suggest that it's okay to adopt stereotypes in the church, such as the "bling-bling" a rapper wears or the parody of an entire ethnicity, even down to the name (as if all Hispanics walk around wearing sombreros and shawls).  I'd find it hard to think that those being caricatured would feel all that welcome.

And that's not even mentioning the most absurd thing about this video: that the entire four minutes and three seconds is devoted to church announcements.  Church announcements!  I mean, I know church announcements are not always that exciting, but really - do we have to engage in a production like this just to tell people about what's going on in our church?

See, I guess that's my problem with the whole concept.  I don't see the need to resort to these kind of antics.  If we have to make a rap video (and I use that term loosely) to get people to pay attention to what's going on in church, we've probably got other problems on our hands.  I don't want to be too hard on these guys - I'm sure they meant well - but someday the church will have to come to grip with the fact that it is not our job to entertain.  Our job is nothing more than inviting people into the fellowship of the body of Christ and working together to bring about the kingdom of God on earth.  And I sincerely believe that when we make that our focus, the people will come. 

People didn't follow Jesus in his day because he tried to be like everything else in their culture.  In fact, they followed him because what he spoke of was something else entirely - a world where it's the peacemakers who are blessed, where turning the cheek is the way to respond to the powerful, where the sinner gets the best seat at the banquet table, where the thing that separates the sheep from the goats is how they treated those around them.  People followed Jesus because they sensed the man was not only drawing them to himself but to something beyond himself.  And it excited them to be part of that.

That's my continued dream for the church - to realize that we don't need gimmicks to catch people's attention; that we don't need to be in the business of making deals in faith; and that we certainly don't need to instill fear to cajole.  But that's just me.  I'd love to hear from you, especially those who may not be affiliated with a church.  What do you think of the video - does it hold some attraction to you, or does it seem as silly and ill-conceived as it does to me?  Share your thoughts in the comments...

Still Thankful

This past week, with the Thanksgiving holiday upon us, someone reminded me of a blog post I made a year ago appropriately titled "Thankful".  I went back and took a look at it and noticed how almost all of the things I was thankful for then are things I'm still thankful for now.  I don't know if this is a sign of a guy who is continually blessed, or a guy who lives a pretty mundane life where nothing changes all that much.  Either way, I'm cool with it.

At the risk of being redundant I thought I'd revisit last year's post.  Any instances that required updating are duly noted in red.  And don't worry, I won't do this every year.  In 2010 I'll treat you to an entirely new and original Thankful post.

Happy Thanksgiving day, folks.  Here's hoping you have much to be thankful for - and, more importantly, that you take time with the ones you love to celebrate those things.

*******************

I am thankful for coffee.  I'm drinking some right now, actually.  I wish to personally thank the individual who thought grinding up some brown beans and pouring hot water over them would taste good.  They were right.

At the moment I'm thankful for Ryan Adams.  Every time I listen to his music I hear something different I didn't pick up before, and I really like that sensation.  I like it because it stands in stark contrast to the sensation I get when I suffer through the repetitiveness of top-40 radio.  Which is something akin to eating those funnel cakes at the fair - it may taste good on the surface, but you know it's just not good for you.  Ryan Adams is kind of like the homemade ice cream - unique and worth the time and money invested.  That's also why I like Wilco, U2, Death Cab for Cutie, Nickel Creek, Radiohead, and others you don't always hear that much and who rarely get the deserved notoriety.  Which is exactly the point.

Last year it was Ryan Adams, this year it's The Avett Brothers. And Sufjan Stevens, especially his Christmas album.

I'm thankful for my boys.  I wish they could somehow know how much I love them, but I don't guess that's possible.  I'm not even sure I know how much.  Every time I look in their eyes I see my past, present and future all rolled into one, along with theirs.  It's a humbling, exhilarating feeling.

Likewise, I'm thankful for my wife.  I remember in my single days hearing folks describe their spouses as their "best friends."  I didn't get it - shouldn't you want your husband or wife to be something more than your "best friend?"  Now, having been married for just over nine years, I get it.  And I'm so glad that I happen to be married to my best friend.

Ten years.

I'm thankful for my parents, my brother, and extended family.  My life has taken all kinds of twists and turns in my 40 years, and it's humbling to know they've been there with me through it all.

Umm........41.

I'm thankful for the church I serve.  Unfortunately, this realization sometimes comes when I'm in conversation with clergy friends and hear their nightmarish situations.  And then I see that I really have it good.  It's a church that wants to go where the spirit leads; a church that genuinely cares for each other, and a church that puts up with (and even supports) my music and teaching ventures.  Most of all, it's a church that lets me be a real person, and that perhaps is the greatest gift they could ever give.

As if I needed any more reasons, my thankfulness for the church has increased ten-fold with their approval of a sabbatical for me next summer.  More on the sabbatical to come...

I'm thankful for the guys I've had the pleasure of making music with - Ken, Jerry, Les, Gary, David and others.  Acoustic Blend is entering its ninth year of existence, and Ken and I never tire of it.  And I'm more than content with being a so-so Mediocre Bad Guy, playing with some of the finest musicians Mount Airy has to offer.

I'm thankful for modern-day prophets like Shane Claiborne, Jim Wallis with Sojourners, Brian McLaren, David Beckmann with Bread for the World, Marcus Borg and many others who hit dummies like me over the head with the agonizingly simple message of the gospel.

I'm thankful for blogging.  I'd been trying for years to find a journaling outlet, but I never could bring myself to don a spiral-ring notebook and pen.  I'm too much of a keyboard guy.  Then I stumbled upon blogging, and that's pretty much been it (oh, and I'm thankful to you for reading it!)

I'm not blogging as much as I used to - it comes and goes in waves. That's okay, I still get a lot out of it.  And still thankful to you for reading!

I'm thankful for things like Facebook and Twitter.  Call me a geek, but they really are wonderful ways to stay connected with folks all over the place.  Where else can I catch up with that girl who lived down the block from me as a kid, and the friend who happens to be moderator of the denomination I serve in, and my old college professor?  The world really isn't as big as we make it out to be sometimes.

I'm thankful for wireless internet.  Free wireless internet specifically.

I'm thankful for the students in my college classes.  For actually showing up, for one thing, at 8:00 in the morning.  And then listening to me lecture for a solid hour.  They ask questions that keep me on my toes, which is exactly what I need.  And they're a lot of fun to be around too.

I'm still thankful for my students, but unfortunately it's no longer in a traditional classroom setting, as all my classes have been moved online. Not my preferred method of teaching, but we make it work.

I'm thankful for our next president.  I know I wanted Jesus, but I'm happy to settle for Obama.  I really do think he's going to bring the change our country so desperately needs.

I still think that.

I'm thankful for a good workout.  These days my goal is three miles jogging and one mile swimming, 2-3 times a week.  It wipes me out, and it's not taking as much off the waistline as it used to, but it still leaves me with a good feeling afterwards.

Something new I'm doing these days - treading water for 30-45 minutes, with weights.  I know it doesn't sound exciting, but it's one heckuva workout.  I've shed some pounds.

I'm thankful that God has never let me stand in the pulpit on Sunday morning with nothing to say.  This is the stuff of nightmares for us ministers, my friends.  I'm not kidding.

I'm thankful for football.  I live vicariously through the guys I watch on TV or read about in the newspaper or Sports Illustrated.  There's something fascinating about the orchestration that goes on between eleven players, all aimed at moving a piece of pigskin down the field; and another eleven orchestrated to stop them.

I'm thankful for that feeling when I drop the Eldest off in the car line at school in the mornings. The teacher opens the door, and I watch him gather his bookbag and any other stuff he's got.  We give each other a high-five.  Every time I tell him I love him and that I'm proud of him.  And I never, ever tire of watching him step out and walk through the school doors and into his big wide world in there.

So we're not doing the car line this year.  Our youngest is in the Pre-K program at the school and we're required to personally take him to his class.  Which means I actually get to take both boys to their classes.  I love this more than the car line. I get to hug 'em as they walk into their room and begin a day in their never-ending, lightning-fast quest that is growing up. 

I thought long and hard about something I could say to them every day, some words of wisdom to impart.  I guess I remember my mom telling me about what her father, a high school principal, used to always say to her and her two sisters: "Apply yourself."  It took a few weeks, but I finally found mine: "Learn stuff."  I like it.  More importantly, they do too.

Bringing Abbey Road to Life

Two reasons to like Vagabond Saints Society: one, it's one of the cooler band names, ranking right up there with Works Progress Administration, American Analog Set and The Most Serene Republic.  More importantly, they're comprised of some pretty amazing musicians in and around the Winston-Salem, NC area (two of whom I play with regularly in Mediocre Bad Guys). And they're not really a band per se, at least in the traditional sense of the term.  They don't really play together as much as they play around each other.

The Vagabond Saints Society comes and goes like a season: after being AWOL for a while, right around the time you're hoping to see them again, they reappear.  They play other people's songs but it must be made clear: they are not a tribute band or a cover band.  Their modus operandi is choosing some specific project - usually a stellar album by a stellar group or artist - and playing it from start to finish.  In the past they've tackled Fleetwood Mac's Rumours, The Who's Tommy, R.E.M. and a collection of easy rock hits from the 70's (don't laugh, I'm told it's a lot harder than it sounds).

But they do more than simply playing something that sounds like the original - and that's the real magic of VSS.  They learn the songs exactly as they're performed on the original recording, down to the last note.  They painstakingly plug through the minutia of a tune so thoroughly that what you hear is more than just a cover - it is a replica.  And that's something different entirely.

 Confession-time here: For all the years I've heard about VSS, I've never actually made an effort to see them play.  Until they decided this fall to tackle a little album called Abbey Road.  Perhaps you've heard of it?  Made by four blokes out of Liverpool England in the late 60's, #14 on Rolling Stone's Top 500 Albums of All Time (and it should've been much higher in this blogger's humble opinion), vehicle of timeless hits such as "Come Together," "Something," "Octopus' Garden" and "Here Comes the Sun."  Yep. Seven very bold musicians from the heart of North Carolina dared to do something as audacious as replicate a true classic.

I heard about the rehearsals from my VSS friends Jerry Chapman and Doug Davis, as well as drummer Les Slate, all of whom I play with in the Bad Guys.  I heard how the bulk of it happened alone, as each performer was expected to show up at the four full rehearsals fully prepared and ready to go.  You heard right, four rehearsals.  I heard them point out things in the songs I never noticed before: intricate drumming that doesn't sound nearly as complicated as it is, the leg slaps at the beginning of "Come Together," the heavy use of the classic Moog synthesizer.  This, of course, is on top of the incredible songwriting that's whipped up on all the album's tracks, as well as the amazing performances from the Fab Four and others that brought those great songs to life.

Wow.  These VSS guys either know what they're doing or have waaaaayy too much confidence in themselves.

I caught their final show at the Good Life Cafe in Mount Airy - a welcome return of live music to this particular venue after a couple years' absence.  The place was packed.  A few B-rate solo artists opened with a post-'67 Beatles cover each to prepare the palette (I can call them B-rate because I was one of them).  And then the band took the stage: two guitarists, bass player (playing a left-handed Hofner nonetheless!), drummer and keyboard player, along with a viola and cello.  Nice!  They started from the top, and with the first few notes of "Come Together" you knew you were in for a treat.  Lemme show you what I mean:

(for those of you subscribing to this blog via email, click here to view the video).

The band forged straight through the album with no playful banter in between - after all; it's about the music, right?  They finished with a nifty rendition of "Birthday" off the White Album, icing on the proverbial celebratory cake.

As a music lover I left that night with my head filled with some great tunes that sounded as close to the original recordings as humanly possible for people not named John, Paul, George and Ringo.  As a musician I was blown away with the time and preparation that went into bringing all of this to life.  And as a father I loved every minute watching my drummer-inclined son soak up the spectacle, particularly the drum solo on "The End."

The big question, of course, is what Vagabond Saints Society will do for a follow up.  Geez, good luck figuring that out!  In the meantime we'll just soak up the moment and extend tothe seven women and men who made it happen the high praise they deserve.

Some other videos:

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"Gone from my sight...."

It has been a tough month or so - meaning, our church and community have had a lot of deaths lately.  Just in our own church: five funerals in as many weeks, four of which I've officiated.  Some were expected, some not; all were difficult.  As a pastor I've never been one to lament my role in these affairs; I always consider it an honor to walk with others on their "sacred ground" (along with baptisms and marriages).  Besides, any hardship I experience pales in comparison to what the family is going through.  But even I must admit - this recent wave has been hard on me.  Compounding that is the fact that, three weeks ago, our family said goodbye to our beloved Sam, the family dog of fourteen years.  Sam was actually my wife's dog and was in the picture long before I was.  She was her baby; I knew my place.

Ugh.

Instances like these are always roller-coaster affairs; the emotional back-and-forth of celebrating a life and having to say goodbye at the same time.  It's times like these when we cling to those thin silver linings; those glimmers of hope and promise that we find amidst all the sorrow and pain.  There was some special music shared at funeral #4 which touched a deep, deep chord in every person in attendance; there was a heartfelt eulogy given at another that was both lighthearted and serious at the same time. 

And in two of the services a poem was read.  It was the same poem; read first by a minister colleague of mine in a service we shared together.  It was read again today at a funeral our staff attended on behalf of a work colleague whose mother had died.  It's about a ship, but it's about much more than that.  I love the fact that the man who wrote it, Henry Van Dyke, was a staunch Presbyterian and English professor in his time.

I don't know the story behind his poem Gone From My Sight, but it is comprised of some beautiful words that have meant a lot to the people who've heard them over the past few weeks.  If you're lucky enough to not have someone close to you dying right now, tuck these words away in a place you'll remember and pull them out later when you need them.  In the meantime, celebrate life every waking moment of your day, and don't let a day go by without telling someone you love them.

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GONE FROM MY SIGHT

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,
spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts
for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck
of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at my side says, "There, she is gone"

Gone where?

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,
hull and spar as she was when she left my side.
And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me -- not in her.
And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone,"
there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices
ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"

And that is dying...

Twenty years ago today....

....I was probably studying for a Psychology exam or standing on a pool deck coaching some swimmers.  Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, this was happening:

Pretty amazing. Kind of gives you hope for the world, doesn't it?

Then again, that monumental event led to this:

Wow.  Nice jacket, eh?

We'll just remember what the real show was that night - and it wasn't Hasselhoff. It was tons of 28-year old concrete crumbling to the ground and a nation of people reunited.  We all win when freedom wins.

We walk because they walk!

It was a cold, soggy, raw kind of day that greeted the third annual CROP Hunger Walk of Mount Airy yesterday.  Not the kind of weather we were hoping for, but you take what you get, right?  If anything it made the CROP motto (also this blog's title) all the more meaningful.  Every day millions of people around the world - in our little community, in this country and in places far away - have to walk miles just to get a little food or some clean drinking water.  And they do this no matter what the elements are.  So surely we could suck it up for a hour or so.

We had our first walk back in the spring of 2007, along with the help of two other fellow clergy, Roger Gilbert of First Baptist and Wayne Hager of Calvary Baptist.  In so doing we joined thousands of communities across the country who host these annual events.  Just in case you don't know, CROP Hunger Walks are joint ventures between local communities and an organization called Church World Service.  The noble and attainable goal of these walks is to eliminate extreme hunger and poverty in the world.  And, as has been noted before on this blog, we now have the technology and the resources to actually do it.

In a CROP Hunger Walk (which, incidentally, stands for "Communities Responding to Overcome Poverty), a portion of the money stays local, going to whatever agency the local planning team designates; while the rest goes to national and international relief agencies.  This is one of the reasons I'm so fond of these walks - they address the problem with a "both-and" approach, the only real way to achieve meaningful results. This is sometimes hard for people to understand, but it's true.  It does no good if we keep all of our money locally, as there are innumerable communities all around the world who have no means to host their own walks and support themselves.  Likewise, if we direct 100% of our efforts overseas, we are turning a blind eye to the needs right in front of us.  CROP Hunger Walks are a very practical way of doing both.

Folks started gathering at Veteran's Park around 2pm Sunday afternoon, trying to keep warm while listening to the sounds of the Youth Moravian Church Praise Band. At around 3:30, emcee Kelly Epperson of WPAQ radio sent us on our way!  The 3.2 mile walk took us down the Emily Taylor Greenway and then back through town to finish at the park.  Most folks finished the walk in just over an hour, unless your name was "Lindsley," in which case you were bringing up the rear.  Here are some pics for you:

 

  In previous years we had CROP Hunger Walk t-shirts for everyone, paid for by local business sponsors.  With the economy being the way  it is we decided to go without the fancy t-shirts and instead got the kids to make their own walk shirts with plain white tees and fabric markers.  It was such a hit that I imagine we'll do it again in future years, even if we bring the traditional walk shirt back.

One of the things we've tried to do with this walk is make it not just a fundraising experience, but an educational one.  So along the walk we posted signs that had some pretty sobering statistics about hunger and poverty in our world.  Here's a smattering of 'em:

 

This one gets me every time.  The sign reads, "A child dies of hunger-related causes every six seconds."  The man standing beside it is holding a bell that he chimes - you guessed it - every six seconds.  So you're walking along and you hear this ringing and you're wondering what it is.  Then you see this sign, and you know.  And as you walk up the hill and hang a left on Pine St. you still hear it ringing, and you remember long after the ringing stops.

Our walker numbers and dollar totals were down from previous years, but we're figuring the weather had something to do with that.  Any way you cut it, though, less people will go hungry because of our efforts.

I wish I were more regularly cognizant of the hungry in our world.  I just scarfed down a delicious lunch at 308 Bistro as I was typing this and hardly paid attention as the food made its way from the plate to my stomach.  Often on those nights our family sits down for a meal together, the obligatory family blessing is treated more like an obstacle to be hurried through quickly rather than a true pause of reflection and thanks.  For me hunger is nothing more than that nagging feeling I get in the middle of the afternoon at work when lunch is just a few hours in the past - and even then, all I have to do is reach in the drawer desk to grab a handful of almonds.  Like many people I've done a pretty good job of hiding in my ignorance and shielding myself from what's really there.

That's why these walks are a good way of reminding me of two things: one, that I need to be a whole lot more grateful for the food on my plate every day; and two, that I need to do a much better job of seeing that people all around the world get more on theirs.