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.

"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.

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

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...

Pennies from Heaven and the value of human health

Last Thursday I made a quick trip to Montreat to surprise our youth group, who was attending the last week of the Summer Youth Conference.  I pulled out of the driveway around 5:30am in the new/used Prius and got there at 8.  It was great seeing them; and even though I only stayed for five hours, it's like I always say: five hours at Montreat is better than not being there at all. Or something like that.

An added bonus was getting to see a friend, Kelly Wiant-Thralls, give the conference keynote.  She did a great job, and one of the stories she shared really stuck with me.  It was about a jogging partner who years ago started collecting the pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters he found on the sidewalks and streets during his long jogs.  She began doing the same.  But instead of doing what pretty much everyone else does with the change - keep it - Kelly and her friend decided to set the coins aside and donate them to a favorite charity every year.  They called their jogging change "Pennies from Heaven."

I liked this idea - a lot.  Less than an hour later I found a penny on the sidewalk that runs beside Lake Susan, and it quickly found its way in the Cents-A-Bility cup I keep in my car.  Last spring our church started taking up this special offering once a month to benefit the hungry in our community and around the world.  In fact, let me encourage you (especially you First Pres. Mount Airy folks) to join me in this practice: add to your monthly Cents-A-Bility offering any spare change you find on the street, sidewalk, wherever.  Or set it aside in a special jar and start making an annual donation to the charity of your choice.  Sounds like a plan to me.

On the two-and-a half hour drive back home I was really rolling this "Pennies from Heaven" thing around in my head.  And what intrigued me the most was that something as simple as putting aside that penny/nickel/dime/quarter we find on the sidewalk becomes the radical idea it apparently is: so much so that a keynoter would fashion it into a story for her wonderful message, that I would devote lots of thought to it on the car trip home, that a Facebook group would be created in its honor (which you should join, by the way).  Why is this a big deal, honestly?  Somewhere between Valdese and Hickory it occurred to me that maybe it has something to do with the very heart of our Western mindset about money and ownership.  We like to own things, especially when it's money we're talking about.  We feel particularly strong about this when it's money we "earn" via a salary or allowance - we put it in bank accounts under our name where it remains "ours."  All of which seems perfectly reasonable.  But it's saying something entirely different - and I'm not sure this is necessarily a good thing - when we make the mental jump that some spare change we happen upon along the way suddenly belongs to us too. 

Something else I got to thinking about was the little value our society places on "change" like this.  I mean, what can you buy with a penny these days, anyway?  I imagine that's part of the reason we see no problem claiming the spare change on the ground as our own.  If it was a $100 bill we might be more inclined to find its owner - maybe.  But no one, we rationalize, is going to miss a penny or dime.

I think it's time for us to call both assumptions into question.  Maybe, just maybe, we need to have a less possessive attitude with our money.  And maybe, just maybe, chump change really is worth something.  I may be making a huge leap here, but both points seem to come into play with the hot topic issue of the day: health care reform.  Unless you've been living on a deserted island the past few months you know that our government is currently wrestling with how to revise and improve our nation's health care.  Sadly, it has quickly evolved into a very politically-charged issue; so much so that folks are forgetting what's at stake - the lives and well-being of our neighbors and friends; people we know well and people we don't know at all.  

No matter what side of the aisle you're on, so to speak, it's hard to deny that something needs to be done about our current system.  Pick your study, but pretty much all of them have indicated that roughly 20-25% of Americans are underinsured, while another 15-16% lack health care of any kind.  At the very least this is a health crisis waiting to happen.  Public health, after all, is not individually autonomous.  If the kid in my son's class at school doesn't get the needed meds to ward off his sick bug because his family can't afford them, there's a good possibility that his problem will become my son's problem too.  It's hard to admit in our proudly individualistic society, but we really are much more intertwined with each other than we realize.

At worst, the issue of fair health care for all is a morality test which we as a country are failing miserably.  According to this article, of the 39 industrialized nations in the world, ours is the only one that does not provide universal health care for its citizens.  The only one.  What this means is that the single difference between good health care and insufficient or non-existent health care is an economic one - in other words, it boils down to money.  Those who can afford it are set.  Those who cannot - and the numbers are growing rapidly - are in trouble.  Something like public health shouldn't depend on how much money one has.  Health has to be more than simply a capitalistic enterprise.

Now I don't presume to know what the solution is.  I don't know that our president and his administration have all the right answers, either.  But I'll give them this - at least they're moving on it.  At least they're willing to wade through the murky waters of a hot-button issue, initiating a conversation that our country has desperately needed for some time.  I can respect that.  What I can't respect are those who are not only politicizing the health care debate but seem hell-bent on disrupting any kind of meaningful conversation about it.  I'm talking about stuff like memos from certain organizations calling constituents to harass their elected officials, even going so far as to be confrontational in town hall meetings.  I'm particularly dumbfounded by one directive: (make every effort to) not have an intelligent debate.  Seriously??  How can standing in the way of honest, thoughtful dialogue about such an important issue be something anyone would actually want to happen?

There may be some legitimate reasons people don't want our health care system changed, but the one I least understand is the one that says it's "not fair" for some to pay for the health care of others.  I respectfully disagree.  The "I-got-mine-you-get-yours" mentality is fine and dandy when we're talking about cable TV or the latest edition of Rock Band, but when it comes to things like basic education or public health, we're all in this together, folks.  Which brings me back to the "Pennies from Heaven" thing.  When we choose to see the world this way; when we find that penny on the sidewalk and immediately realize it is not ours, we've made some headway in not only how we understand "ownership" in general, but how we perceive our responsibility to our fellow human being.  When we realize how all of us are connected to each other, perhaps our defenses won't go up so quickly when it comes to adopting a new health care system that will be fair to all people - especially the poorest among us, who need it the most.  And the thing is, we're not talking about huge sums of money out of each of our pockets.  We're talking about "spare change" that really does have value; that really can make a world of difference.

Logically this makes sense.  From a faith perspective it's down-right embarrassing that we're not already on board.  There are biblical injunctions throughout scripture that speak to our obligation to care for the "widows, elderly and orphans" - not because there's anything special about these three kinds of people, but because in ancient times they represented the most vulnerable of society.  The practice of "gleaning" in the Bible involved farmers refraining from harvesting the edges of their fields, leaving it for the poor (a wonderful group called the Society of St. Andrew has brought this practice back into the 21st century).  And then there's Leviticus 25, which calls for Jubilee to be celebrated every 50 years, where all debts are forgiven (Bono was big on this a few years back with third-world debt).  In other words, the faith that I pledge allegiance to - along with roughly 2.1 billion others worldwide - has at is core the notion of sharing a portion of what you "possess" for the benefit of all concerned.

In a great article aptly titled How Would Jesus Handle Health Care?, author Drew Smith says this:

The test of faithfulness to Jesus is always in how we treat the vulnerable of society.  If we are to bear authentic witness to Jesus as the healer, and to God as the giver of life, then we must embrace the value and dignity of all human beings, but especially the vulnerable of our world.  In our American society, perhaps, there is no greater population that is more vulnerable than those who do not have access to good and affordable health care.

So I hope over the course of the next month some real dialogue will take place at town hall meetings across the country, and that the disruptors will take their angry rants and go home.  I hope our president and congress will come back in September and put aside partisan politics to come up with a balanced plan for universal health care that really will make a difference.  And I hope that all of us will adopt a "Pennies from Heaven" mentality - because when you get right down to it, everything we have is a gift, and it's only right to return the favor.

All of this from a five-hour trip to Montreat.  Remind me to get back there more often ;-)

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

Two other blogs you really should read on health care reform from a faith perspective:

Jim Wallis, "Truth-Telling and Responsibility in Health Care"

Brian McLaren, "An Open Letter To Conservative Christians In The U.S. On Health Care"

Introducing tomorrow's guest blogger - a.k.a., "The Man"

Normally I wouldn't do a full blog post to introduce a guest blogger.  But with my good friend Byron Wade, currently Vice Moderator of the Presbyterian Church (USA), I couldn't resist.  So many good memories....

These days Byron is pastoring in Raleigh NC and spending some time traveling our country in the name of all things Presbyterian.  Along with Bruce Reyes-Chow, PC(USA) Moderator, the two represent a remarkable turn in our denomination to younger leadership.  Since our church is inextricably interconnected, there is great truth to the expression, "Being Presbyterian means never really having to say goodbye." I've had the pleasure of knowing, to various extents, most of this new leadership.  We're in good hands.

Bryon and I spent a year together at the Presbyterian School of Christian Education, which was later federated with Union Theological Seminary, which soon will be changing its name to Union Presbyterian Seminary.  Progress, one hopes.  Back then, PSCE was a two-year graduate school that specialized in preparing those wishing to enter Christian Education or Youth ministry.  Byron was there for a year's study in the midst of his M.Div work; I was entering as a first-year student. 

The two years I spent at PSCE were some of the best of my life, and it pains me to know that others will not have that kind of experience.  I made the best circle of friends I've ever had; and even though we keep in touch loosely in the midst of busy church work and family, I still consider them my closest colleagues.   I had the pleasure of studying alongside some of the best professors - like the late Isabel Rogers, whose student affectionately called "Dr. Izzie" (herself a former moderator, pictured to the right).  She and the rest of the faculty impacted a generation of educators in ways they'll never know.

From the moment I met Byron I knew we'd be good friends.  Byron has a fun-loving, friendly personality; and his smile and laugh are infectious.  I can't remember exactly when it started, but at some point one of us said to the other, You da man!  To which the other responded, No, you da man!  This went back and forth for the whole year - in fact, we're still carrying it on today via phone calls, Facebook messages, Tweets, you name it.  I keep on trying to convince him that being the vice-moderator of a denomination has him most deserving of the title; he, in turn, keeps suggesting otherwise.

Byron was also part of what turned out to be my greatest moment of sports glory, but I'll let him tell that story.  Suffice it has something to do with football, graduate school and albino squirrels.  They do exist, you know - white as a sheet.  Here's an actual picture to prove it:

See, told ya.

Anyway, all of this is a very long-winded way of saying that Byron will be a guest blogger on Thoughts & Musings, more than likely tomorrow.  And a heads-up to FPC Mount Airy folks - Byron will be with us in worship on Worldwide Communion Sunday, October 4th, so make sure you're there.

Feel free to subscribe to Byron's Vice-Moderator blog here, even if you're not lucky enough to be Presbyterian.  Byron has a lot of great insight into matters of the church and faith.  He's also a great guy and I'm grateful to count him as a good friend. 

I'm also grateful to say, without reservation that he is indeed THE MAN. That's it, Byron, sorry.  End of discussion. :-)

What Matters Most

I knew there was a reason we had our porch painted and re-screened last month - for moments just like this.  Saturday afternoon, everyone else taking naps or feigning sleep (end result - a strange and rare quiet); the sound of an afternoon summer shower falling on the trees that surround our backyard.  Aaaahhh.  I needed this, I really did.  It's been a week of ups and downs, and frankly, more downs than ups.

I turned a year older this past week.  If you care to know how much, check out this blog post I made a year ago and do the math.  There was something unique about last year's milestone and I wore it proudly, like a badge of honor.  Kind of like when you hit 18 and achieve "adulthood."  Of course, twelve months later the novelty wears off and you're just another year older.  So sure, I could've come at it in some positive light - blessed with another year and all that. And the family certainly helped with gifts, homemade cards and an incredible strawberry cake.  But honestly, the week I had made it difficult to fully embrace the joy of it all. 

Which leads to my next "downer,"  and it happened around noon on Monday, driving down Main Street in town, at around 35 mph.  Thankfully, no one was injured.  Even the guy's car that I hit showed very little damage.  The same could not be said, though, for my car.  Especially frustrating since the same thing happened two years ago.  And in both instances, the age of the car made repairing it not an option.

There is a powerful bond between a man, his automobile and the privilege of driving.  I've seen it in older men when their declining health makes sitting behind the wheel no longer an option, and the family has to take away the keys.  You can see it in their eyes; that a part of their independence and pride and dignity has been denied.  To some degree that's how I felt those first 48 hours sans car.  And perhaps that was a good thing; a healthy slice of humble pie, repulsive as its taste may have been.

Things continued to go down from there.  Note to self: don't bother walking to work early one morning in the hopes that no one will see you and realize, as you jaunt down Main Street in your office clothes and business bag, that you have no car.  It won't work (although I am grateful to Ben for giving me a lift the rest of the way). Even my birthday had its unsettling moment, as I was (and this is a true story) pulled over by the police because the tags on my rental car had expired.  The rental car!  The overwhelming relief I felt when I realized I wouldn't be held responsible still didn't make up for the sick feeling in my stomach the moment those blue lights flashed in my rearview mirror. 

Sometimes it's easy to get so overwhelmed by the all the muckiness around you that it gets a good grip on your spirit.  And that's when you need a perspective check - and for me, it was Friday.  The wounds from the week's mess were still tender as the family headed off on a hiking excursion - just the four of us.  It was exactly what the doctor ordered - just being with the wife and boys, seeing some cool waterfalls, marveling at the wonders of nature together.  Later that evening I was playing some tunes in Madison, NC for an Acoustic Blend gig. The place was packed and folks stayed until closing time at 10pm to hear our very last song.  That's when you know a gig is going well.

On the drive home I reflected on my lousy week and how humble pie, while sometimes necessary, often comes in portions too large for one's appetite.  I don't like feeling like I've let people down, and I don't like others being negatively affected by my actions.  At the same time I had a moment of clarity that I hope will stick with me long after this week is over.

And that is this: when you get right down to it, when you cut through all the muck that can get in the way, what matters most - to me at least - is my family and friends, my faith, and my music.  Those three, and the people and places and experiences that make them up, are what define me as a human being meandering around this planet.  They are what connect me to something outside myself.  Everything else is dressing - important dressing, sometimes expensive dressing (as my auto insurance agent reminded me this past week), but dressing nonetheless.  Family, friends, faith, music.  That pretty much sums it up.

I'm glad I've have some time to reflect on this as I'm sitting on the back porch listening to the rain make its journey from the heavens down to the earth.  Actually, the rain's starting to die down a bit, and the sun's peeking through.  Thank goodness the same can be said about this past week.  Time to soak up the sunshine and be thankful for the light and warmth of it all.

The other side of the billboard

I am not a fan of church marquees.  Part of the reason is the traditionalist in me who feels the only thing that should be posted in front of a church building is a sign with the church name - and, if you must, worship times.  But the other reason is because more often than not, in an attempt to be cute or clever, they wind up coming across terribly offensive to the "unchurched" and even fellow Christians. I find myself cringing sometimes at the arrogant, haughty, non-compassionate message that is often conveyed.

Like this, for example:

This picture was taken by a friend of a friend while riding shotgun on an interstate near where I live.  Unfortunately, the sponsors didn't include a phone number or website to which I could properly direct my disgust.  Instead I can only refer to them as the IWPUTS ("idiots who put up this sign").

What amazes me is how IWPUTS could distort the message of Jesus so completely and thoroughly in just six words.  If it wasn't so incredibly off-base I'd almost admire them for their efficiency.  Almost.

First, the whole notion of "Jesus having your number" makes me think of some old-school Chicago gangster threatening to take out his rival or relative who went against the family code.  Jesus has your number.  Seriously?  How can anyone look at the four portrayals of Jesus through the eyes of Mark, Matthew, Luke and John and come to see anything remotely like this?  Apparently IWPUTS can.

Then there's the idea of "repenting NOW" - which goes totally against the essence of what the word really means.  Repenting is not the stuff of quick, emotional decisions at a tent revival meeting (or, in this case, cruising along at 70 mph).  Repenting, from a Biblical standpoint, is a process that involves a "turning from" and a "turning toward:" turning from the things that would pull us away from God, and turning toward God.  It is a conscious choice made after deep reflection and prayer - not something to be done immediately in light of a big bad Jesus who is out to get us.

Which brings me to my third issue with this marquee - and that is the fear.  This thing is dripping with fear of a God whose love (if it even exists) comes in a distant second to God's wrathful and hateful pursuit of our souls.  And it uses that fear to motivate or scare us into submission.  This kind of repentance is not about becoming part of the body of Christ and helping to bring about the kingdom of God on earth.  It's about avoiding punishment and - not mentioned but certainly implied - the eternal fires of hell.

I've written before in this blog about the dangers and downright unbiblical use of fear to motivate people in their spiritual walk.  There simply is nothing in the Bible that says this is a legit way to operate in the faith.  People are forever dragging out the tired-old "fear of the Lord" phrase that comes from scripture - but what they fail to see is that the Greek and Hebrew words are more accurately defined as "respect" and "honor," not being fearful of a vengeful and wrathful God.  Besides, for every "fear" passage there are at least one or two that unequivocally implore us not to be afraid.  Don't believe it's true?  Check out this guy on Twitter, who each morning tweets a "do not fear" verse.  I've been following him for close to a year and have yet to see him repeat anything.  How some have managed to twist the Christian faith into literally being afraid of a God who "has our number" is perhaps one of the great travesties of the institutional church.

I try to imagine myself as someone who has thought about becoming a "Christ-follower" but for whatever reason hasn't yet taken that step.  Perhaps they've seen some good the church has done in the past; some positives that people of faith have made in the world. Perhaps they're intrigued with some of the stuff they've heard about Jesus - the compassion and love and sacrificial giving.  Maybe they've even considered taking their friend up on the invite to go to church with them one Sunday morning.

I try to imagine myself as that person, cruising down the interstate one day, sun shining, birds singing - and then happening upon this sign.  They shake their head in disbelief and disgust; they feel their stomach knot up and discover that their grip on the steering wheel has tightened considerably.  Some (like IWPUTS) might call this "conviction" or "guilt," but they know better.  They know it's disgust and contempt at any God who "has their number" and uses fear to get their way.  And they know that if this is what Christianity's about, then it's not for them.

I shudder to think how many people have come to this conclusion after seeing this sign on the interstate.  And that infuriates me - because the fact of the matter is that IWPUTS does not speak for all of us. There's another side to the billboard, so to speak; another story you rarely find on church marquees or interstate signs. The "other side" speaks of a God who is not out to get us but one who is the embodiment of unconditional love.  The other side speaks of a God who does not force through fear, but empowers us to live through that love.  The other side speaks of a God who does not extend a pointed index finger from the heavens in condemnation and judgment, but one who extends an open hand, inviting us into the family of faith.  The other side speaks of a God who is just as offended at stuff like this as we are.

As much as I'd like to think otherwise, I'm afraid IWPUTS will continue doing their thing.  My hope is that the rest of us will see through this and choose instead to keep our eyes on the road that lies ahead. Trust me - there's better scenery elsewhere.

When 322 feeds 10,175

This week I've have the pleasure of hanging out with six youth from our church at the Massanetta Middle School Conference at Massanetta Springs in Harrisonburg, VA.  While I don't have any "official" youth responsibilities at the church, I made a decision a few years back to take our middle schoolers to this annual conference myself every year.  I love it because it gives me a chance to spend some good quality time with our young people and get to know them better than I ever could for a few hours on a Sunday morning.  This year it happened to be an all-girls group, and their female advisor and I are having an absolute blast.  I mean, look at them - don't they just look fun?

So we're doing all the usual youth conference stuff - energizers, music, keynotes, small group, workshops; all on very little sleep.  The girls & I went canoeing yesterday and had a great dry time.  At our nightly devotions we're doing what we call "Highs and Hopes" - your "high" for the day and your "hope" for tomorrow.  Believe me when I say that it has not been difficult getting them to talk (again, from the picture, does it look like it'd be hard for them??)

Last night, though, our group - and the 314 other youth and adults at the conference - got to experience a unique and revolutionary event that I hope will set a precedence for this conference and others in the future.  See, if there's any area where I feel the typical youth conference falls short, it's that there's often an exclusive focus on the self and inward spiritual experiences - how "I" experience God.  Which is great; don't get me wrong - those things need to be tended to.  But we're doing our young people a disservice if we leave them with the impression that that's all there is to being a person of faith.  I've always figured that Jesus wanted us to do something with our faith rather than just celebrate it (or maybe the "doing" is the celebration?  Hmm....)  There's a kingdom of God that we've been called to help initiate, and it's not going to materialize on its own.

So I was thrilled when I heard that Massanetta had partnered with Stop Hunger Now for what's called a "Packaging Event."  You can visit the website at the link to learn more, but in short it's an assembly-line setup that helps to create these packaged meals of rice, dried vegetables, seasonings and other supplements.  They're easy to pack and ship around the world and have the nutritional value to really make a difference in the lives of those suffering extreme poverty.   The plan, then, was to get all 322 youth and adults working hard for twenty solid minutes to make 10,000 meals.  That's 10,000, with four zeroes.

The Nook - essentially a very large screened-in porch on the Massanetta campus - was the location for the Packaging Event.  It was set up with tables and the needed supplies by the time we got there.  Everyone filed in to their places with specific orders, and then the madness began.  You really do need to check out the video below; it's amazing to watch.  Pay special attention to the gong at the end - every time our group created a thousand bags they would bang the gong.  The end of the video has the tenth gong and the ensuing celebration of us reaching our 10,000 goal.  Check it out:

Later that night at devotions, everyone in our group felt the packaging event was one of their "highs" for the day.  And I can see why.  When the needs in our world are so overwhelmingly great, it's hard for anyone to feel like there's a snowball's chance in you-know-where of making any kind of meaningful difference - especially if you happen to be twelve or thirteen years old.  But last night these kids helped nourish the bodies of 10,000 starving children, youth and adults, somewhere in this world.  That's not going to solve the problem, of course, but it's a step in the right direction.  And that's certainly better than doing nothing at all.

I'm going to give some serious thought to working with Stop Hunger Now back home, perhaps encouraging a joint effort between some of our Main Street churches.  Maybe we'll even attempt a packaging event at the fall CROP Hunger Walk.  This has so much potential.  And as they do so often, especially in the church I serve, the youth once again are leading the way.

Getting back in the Game (in a good way)

I'm really digging this YouTube clip:

I like it because, although not to this degree, I've been in that poor vicar's shoes before, and misery loves company.  I also like it because it shows in pretty stark fashion the complexity of the collision between faith and culture.  And I think the British accents are cool.

The church, as this video quite effectively demonstrates, has never had all the answers - although many times it's tried to pretend that it did.  What the church has always had is a definitive calling to speak up and make a difference in the world.  Unfortunately, it hasn't always done that.  Hmm.  Talk about getting your jobs mixed up.

I was reminded of the latter when I read a great syndicated column by Leonard Pitts this past week.  You can read it here, and I really hope you do before you read the rest of this blog, as what I say from here on will make a lot more sense.

The beauty of this article is that Pitts approaches things not just a journalist but as a person of faith, and one who is lamenting the response - or lack thereof - of the church on a number of issues.  Eighty years ago it was the Holocaust, fifty years ago it was civil rights, thirty years ago it was the AIDS epidemic.  There are others, of course - poverty and hunger, the environmental crisis - and most of the time it seems as if the church is the last to respond, if at all. This is especially true with the issue Pitts hones in on, that being torture. 

Now - let me clarify two things.  First, I have every ounce of respect for the women and men in our military who defend this country.  I'm grateful for their devotion and mourn when they make the ultimate sacrifice.  Second, I'm not approaching this topic from a political standpoint.  I feel the need to clarify this because the morning the article came out I posted the link on my Facebook page and got a wave of comments from folks, many who assumed I was getting political.  I'm not.  In fact, Pitts himself doesn't bring politics into it - and if you've read any of his other stuff you know he's not opposed to doing that in the least.

What I am doing is recognizing the fact - as many others have - that something has gone seriously awry when the world's superpower chooses to ignore the very rules it helped to create and institutes tactics that have not only been proven to be ineffective but actually incite those in opposition even further.  It would be sad enough if only our government bought into this, but the real tragedy is that many in religious circles are falling in line too.  The fact that, according to the study cited in Pitts' article, a majority of American Christians (evangelical Protestants specifically) express support of torture is terribly ironic, given the fact that the man they pledge their allegiance to was a victim of the worst kind of torture himself.  The cross was Rome's masterpiece in its vast torture arsenal, and the streets of Jerusalem were literally lined with them (and their victims) for all to see.  It was a horrific reminder by the powers-that-be of who was in charge and what would happen to those who forgot.  And yet the Christian faith was born out of those who stood against that kind of power; a counter-measure proclaiming a very different way of life, with Jesus-the-torture-victim at the center of it all.

How did we get here?  That was the question author Diana Butler-Bass posed as a comment on my Facebook link.  How did the church become complacent on issues that really matter?  I imagine it's a complex problem that none of us will ever fully understand.  But if I had to take a guess, I'd say something similar to what I mentioned in a previous blog post about welcoming a post-Christian America.  Every time the church and the imperial power of its day joined forces, the church has lost its soul.  Its priorities change from proclaiming the kingdom of God to supporting the power structure, from loving unconditionally to drawing lines of who is in and out, from speaking the truth in love to speaking the agenda through power. 

So we wind up with a bizarre situation: the church on the sidelines while others forge ahead.  It's an odd twilight-zone-ish scene where, as Pitts' article point outs, comedian Jon Stewart becomes a spokesperson on the torture issue (as was evidenced in his Daily Show interview with Cliff May in April, which you can watch here).  It's both enlightening and kind of embarrassing that a late-night comedian - and not the faith community - is leading the charge.  Only in America.

Is there then any hope?  You bet!  In fact, in a blog post of her own, Butler-Bass makes the case that mainline Protestants are beginning to evolve into our country's new moral conscience.  My hope is that us "Prods" will latch onto this as our new collective identity while joining forces with other followers of Christ, other faiths, and even those of no faith at all.  Perhaps the church will then be leading the way in a good way - not to achieve power or receive "kickbacks" from an unholy marriage with the culture, but as a beacon shining light on the stark differences between right and wrong, between hope and fear, between fair and unjust.

So I'm tired of being on the sidelines. I'm ready for the church to get back into the game; back to being more relevant and speaking out on issues that really matter in our world.  Maybe if we begin doing that, just maybe, we'll stop being awkward - like that poor dude in the YouTube clip.  Man, I feel his pain.

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

UPDATE: Pitts' article has really gotten in my head this week and has come into play with my sermon this Sunday.  Feel free to check it out if you want.

A "Post-Christian America?" Don't sweat the small stuff...

There's a famous line in Lindsley lore, spoken by my father back when my brother and I were kids, as the three of us played in the surf at Daytona Beach.  Right before a mammoth wave would crash down on us, when little eyes would grow wide with excitement and a tinge of fear, Dad would look at us and smile and say: Ah, don't sweat the small stuff.  And we understood what he meant - not only with what was spoken, but what was implied as well: Don't sweat the small stuff, because it isn't as big as you think it is.  

I couldn't help but think of my father's words (words I've said to my two boys as we've stood in the waves) when I heard how some folks - some who are good friends of mine - reacted to this recent Newsweek article.  The title itself is ominous enough and designed to appeal to one's fears: The End of Christian America.  Nobody likes for anything to end, especially when it's something we've been led to believe we should want. 

I don't think it'd be presumptuous to say that there's a wide swath of America who's assumed for years that ours is a "Christian nation."  To be honest, I've always wondered what that term means.  Is it reality that's being talked about, or an ideal?  Does it mean that every single American citizen is Christian, or should be?  Are we talking about a simple majority?  Or are we referring to supposed "Christian values," a nebulous phrase that is such because 1) there is disagreement over what values are inherently Christian, and 2) there is ignorance of the fact that other faiths profess many of the same values Christians hold dear.

Nevertheless, this hasn't stopped many well-meaning people from pursuing the notion of a "Christian nation" - not only because they think it's a good thing, but because they believe it's what God wants.  In recent years, however, these folks have found themselves increasingly frustrated in their quest.  The election of a "Christian president" (another nebulous expression) at the turn of the century did not usher in an expected reformation of right-thinking religious ideology. Some of the hot-topic issues, such as homosexuality and abortion, continue to be in flux.  And a recent study on religion in America has shown that those professing the Christian faith, while still in the majority, experienced a sharp decline in the past decade.  The area of greatest increase?  Those professing no faith at all.

So this has caused some in Christian circles to go into a general state of freaking out; from which they emerge with some pretty ominous conclusions: there is no hope for our country, we are all doomed, and God has given up on us.  Personally I think that's just plain silly, as is the notion that we were, are, or ever will be a "Christian nation."  This may sound strange coming from a pastor, I know.  But therein lies the stereotype that people like me - a middle-aged male Caucasian pastor of a small congregation in a rural part of the Bible belt - get a lot. And perhaps for that very reason I've often found it hard to put into words how I feel about all of this and why.  Stereotypes aside, these issues are incredibly complex and multi-faceted.  It's not simple stuff we're dealing with.

And then this past week I ran across a blog by noted evangelist Jim Wallis of Sojourners, who I admire a great deal, and his comments on a "post-Christian America."  And in my humble opinion, I think he hits the nail on the head, especially with this paragraph:

Personally, I am not offended or alarmed by the notion of a post-Christian America. Christianity was originally and, in my view, always meant to be a minority faith with a counter-cultural stance, as opposed to the dominant cultural and political force. Notions of a “Christian America” quite frankly haven’t turned out very well.

It's as if Jim got in my skull and spoke my thoughts.  I simply could not have said it any better.

What Wallis is referring to, by the way, is the less-than-stellar history of the church whenever it's been coupled with political/governmental power.  When the church first started, it was not only in opposition to the Roman empire of its time, it was hiding from it.  Churches were held in the privacy and seclusion of people's homes - which, incidentally, served to foster fellowship.  Over its first two hundred years the church continued to grow and become more public, but it never assumed a position of authority or influence in the culture.  It was always, as the expression goes, counter-cultural.  All of that changed in 313 AD, however, when the Roman emperor Constantine issued the Edict of Milan.  And before you could say "Apostle's Creed," Christianity became the official religion of the Roman empire.  Every Roman citizen - and there were a few of them, mind you - literally became Christian overnight.  This did absolutely amazing things for the church rolls - membership morphed to an unprecedented magnitude.  But it didn't do much for the spirit of the church.  In fact, if anything it served to deaden it.  So whenever the church takes on a position of privilege, power and entitlement in society, it's almost always never a good thing for the church, and usually not for anyone else, either.

Why?  Because in the process the church loses its soul.  It recasts the church's mission in the world from one of service and fellowship to one of entitlement and duty.  Leadership in the church confuses Christ's power with worldly power - after all, that is humanity's greatest temptation: absolute power corrupts absolutely.  It increases intolerance of other peoples/faiths/religions, because if one truly is the majority, it's almost impossible to see things from the other's perspective. 

But perhaps the greatest ill effect of the church/society marriage is just plain laziness.  Not too long ago it was standard stuff for every business in town to be closed on Sunday mornings.  This meant that if people wanted to interact with others and get out of the house, church was it.  Now there are many "options" for people to choose from on Sunday morning: kids' soccer games, other community functions, the golf course at the country club or the Starbucks down the street.  The church doesn't have the same influence over the culture that it once did.  I've often heard fellow clergy complain and lament this because, as someone once actually said to me, "Now we have to work harder to get them here."  And see, I don't think that's a bad thing at all.  In fact, I think it could be the best thing that's happened to the church in a long time.

So the thought of the end of a "Christian America" does not threaten me in the least, nor does it give me any reason to mope, whine, or declare the imminent end of Western Civilization as we know it.  As a matter of fact, I think it's because of this very development that the best days of the church are ahead of us.  But it's going to take a lot of work on our part; a huge joint effort across lots of lines (racial, gender, denomination, ideological, etc.) that we've gotten pretty good at drawing before.  It will involve a drastic undoing of many of the perceptions and habits we've acquired over the years as Christians living in America, along with an intentional adoption of a new way of doing things.  Many folks have written lots of good stuff about how the church should negotiate this change; allow me to offer up a few of my own.

First, we must stop expecting and demanding perks from society, such as the absence of "competition" on Sunday mornings, partisan prayer at municipality meetings, or the Christianization of anything outside the church.  We should not feel a sense of entitlement just because of our faith.  The early church had no such thing and they flourished.  Seems to be a lesson there...

Second, we need to quit feeling insulted, angered or worried about expressions like "the end of Christian America" or even the tongue-and-cheek title of Wallis' blog: "A Christian Mistake."  The truth can be good for us.  Besides, contrary to popular opinion, the job of a Christian is not to always be right.  Our job is to be faithful.

Third, we must come to terms - and quick - with the fact that our society is becoming increasingly multicultural and reflects many different religious perspectives.  And we should stop being scared of this.  We should view this as a wonderful opportunity to partner with people of other faiths - or people of no faith at all - to focus on what we have in common and how we can make ours a less violent, less wasteful, and less divisive planet.

Fourth, we must put forever to rest the notion that being Christian and being patriotic are one and the same.  A Christian can be patriotic, but a Patriot does not equate being a Christian - or any person of faith.

Fifth, Christians should work diligently to assume a more humble and gracious stance in the world, instead of the arrogant and entitled image we've done such a good job of creating over the years.  Somehow we've got to come to grips with the fact that the man we believe to be the son of God was a peasant Jew who made a meager living as a carpenter, who didn't own any property or wardrobe, whose only sense of self came from the people he hung out with and the God he once called "Daddy."  I know people like to claim otherwise, but I honestly believe that if Jesus came back today in our society in the same way he appeared in first century Palestine, the vast majority of us would not only fail to recognize him but do our best to get rid of him.  That right there should tell us something.

And lastly, I really think we should listen to my Dad, when the wave is about to crash down on us and we think it's all over: Don't sweat the small stuff, because it really isn't as big as we think it is.  Because when it comes to the mission Christians believe they've been sent on, what's more important: identifying a nation with a particular religion, or helping to heal a broken world?  While we're in the throes of debating a cultural religious identity and what values are part of that, there's a child dying of hunger every six seconds.  While we're worrying about shrinking percentages of adherents, wars are claiming the lives of too many and ruining forever the lives of even more.  While we're debating things like sexual orientation and other hot-topic issues, there is real pain and suffering out there that we are turning a deaf ear towards.  In the big scheme of things, whether our nation is Christian or not is small stuff indeed. 

So let's not sweat it.  Instead, let's sweat the stuff that really does matter: hunger, poverty, injustice, disease, corrupt systems, inequality, racism, gender bias, a warming earth, bigotry, hate crimes, overflowing landfills, joblessness, a crumbling economy, mental anguish, human brokenness, and people who need us to show them, in so many ways, God's far-reaching love.

Where might all of this lead people of faith?  Wallis offers this: Making a real impact on the values and directions that a democracy will choose is, perhaps, a more exciting kind of influence than relying on the illusory and often disappointing hopes of cultural and political dominance.

If that's what awaits us, then bring on a post-Christian America.  Let's not sweat it!  In fact, let's welcome it with open arms.