a place to muse...

I Have Moved!

2005-10-28T21:30:00.000-07:00

Please check out the new site, place to muse, and say hello. See you there!

A New Leaf

2005-10-23T20:54:00.000-07:00

I am turning over a new leaf at a place to muse. Or at least I hope to.

I have a new host and new blogging software (Word Press) that I am hoping to have running this week. As you check back this week I will eventually post a new link for you to visit the new site.

Until then...wish me luck. I am in way over my non-techy head.

Another Friday Poem

2005-10-21T08:18:00.000-07:00

Fall is when
leaves join my heart
in yearly retrospect
that although we have
experienced much growth
we are still of the fallen

and...

When you smile
your eyes look
like sunny sky-lit
teardrops
turned on their side--
falling to one another
as if your slender nose
has gravity.

Power Ball Update

2005-10-20T11:16:00.000-07:00

Laura and I did not win at Power Ball.

Out of the 72 numbers we had claim to I think that we matched three of them.

I have never matched more than one number on any given series of six numbers.

I think I need to switch gas stations.

South Africa Here We Go

2005-10-19T09:22:00.000-07:00

Laura and I just spent $3,800 for plane tickets to Durban South Africa. That was a big decision!...especially since that is about what our bank acount has in it right now.

It is going to be Christmas South Africa style--Hot.

My sister, Kristy, and her husband, Ben, have lived in South Africa for almost 4 years now and we have yet to visit them. They are an incredible couple and we are tight. I can't wait.

They are 'missionaries' to college students in South Africa. I don't like using the word missionary because it can conjure up many images that don't apply to Kristy and Ben Carlson.

As a tribute to my excitement here are a couple pics of my sis and bro-in-law...the pictures are about three years old. I will have to get some new pics when we see them in December.

Chicken or the Egg (cont. again)

2005-10-18T09:11:00.000-07:00

After writing the last two Chicken or the Egg posts (here and here) I realized that some of you may have some questions for me lurking in your minds. One in particular came to my mind. I could imagine being asked whether or not I believed in absolutes.

This is a very big question for a Christian. Many postmoderns have done away with absolutes and have chastised anyone who claims their existence. A Christian consequently is set on the defensive because they repeatedly make claims to absolutes.

If some one were to ask me, “Do you believe in absolutes?” I would have to answer both yes and no. There are two distinctions that need to be made to clarify this question (bear with me—this is helpful I think). The two distinctions are epistemological and ontological. Epistemology deals with the study of knowing (how we know things) while Ontology deals with the study of existence or being.

Consequently, when someone asks whether or not there are absolutes they could be asking one of two questions. They could be asking the epistemological question: “Do you believe that absolutes are knowable in an absolute sense?” They could otherwise be asking the ontological question: “Do you believe that absolutes exist?” It is important not to mix these questions up and always good to clarify what someone is asking.

The Modern era (see previous Chicken or the Egg posts) believed that absolutes both existed and were wholly knowable. However, they could never prove that they actually existed because their empirical knowledge proved to be subjective. This has led some postmoderns to conclude that absolutes must not exist at all. Long story short, these postmodern thinkers who claim that absolutes must not exist at all are probably not as postmodern as they think that they are. They are still using failed Modern methods of proof for claims to knowledge.

Most postmodern thinkers do not have a problem with whether or not absolutes actually exist. What they have a problem with is those who claim absolute knowledge. If the Modern era experiment showed us anything about knowledge it was that we all have limited perspectives from which we view the world—to claim an absolute objectivity is absurd. God says as much to Job and his friends—what human can comprehend God? (See story here).

So my answer to the question of whether or not I believe in absolutes is two fold. Yes, I believe in the existence of absolutes—I believe in the Christian God and Jesus and the stories unfolded in the Bible. No, I do not believe that I have absolute objective knowledge about anything. I would, however, claim that I have knowledge of Jesus and God and the Bible, but I just believe that my knowledge is warranted (it makes sense, it is cohesive, coherent and comprehendible)—not wholly objective or absolute.

Does this open the door for the Christian’s latest and greatest fear—relativity? Maybe. However, even in the postmodern world one cannot just pull a belief or claim to knowledge out of nowhere and expect to have a hearing of those who take them seriously. We still attempt to make sense of the world and to gather knowledge--we do this to a great degree--even knowledge of God. We just do so with a much greater sense of humility.

A Friday Poem

2005-10-14T10:22:00.000-07:00

Tender is the night
that brings distance to our sight
with every creeping cautious deception

Shall I compare thee
to a darkened day
O time, my misery
when hope runs away

Secure fades to fright
these deep silhouettes by night
withhold the secrets of their complexion

And I follow lies
ever told my worthless eyes
to the hollow of broken ambition

Arise wayward heart
to Justice be true
that Love hath ne'er part
nor Hope hath fled you

Tender is the night
that crouches round my faith's Light
O me, stand wise in Glory's reception

Tender is tonight!

I'll be your Huckleberry

2005-10-12T07:32:00.000-07:00

Last night I got to go see a good friend, Mike Huckleberry, play his guitar at the Varsity Theater. It was the most fun that I have had for a long time (It was good to see Renee and Hillary there as well). There is nothing that I like more than to be in a bar lounge with couches, drinks, smoke machines and live music. I was in heaven (no doubt God will have smoke machines and New Castle on tap waiting for us).

I could listen to Mike play for a long time. Not only because he is a long time friend, but because he is damn good. Damn for the rest of us who dare to compare to his white boy guitar rap and soulful soul. Who knew? His voice is refreshing and the rhythm was incredible (thanks to Zach and Will who I met long ago and don't remember meeting).

Mike and I have had one of those relationships where we can be completely absent from one another for years, reunite, and easily reconnect even though so much has changed. Anyways, he is one of my favorite people on the planet--even though we haven't even spent a month together in cumulated time.

In short...I was inspired. After having my head in the books for so long I haven't taken a breath of creativity for a while. My heart was full after leaving the Varsity Theater last night. I went home and read my own poetry for about two hours. I thought that I would share a couple poems here...if only to remind myself of when I last took time for creative expression.

I wrote this six years ago this month:

Hearts crushed
under the weight
of our sin
wear their masks;
it's Holloween tonight--
and we can't
see their story
except wandering eyes
that barely see out
at the
masked world
and its "maskless" people
who don't know
their shame
and those who
have forgotten
grace that they own--
For too many
it's Holloween tonight.

In honor of Mike's soulfulness...this poem is 4 1/2 years old:

hot skin cry
on the night street--
her destination Minnesota

south side city drama
in my ghetto heart--
I've missed you

Chicken or the Egg (cont.)

2005-10-11T10:40:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I posted about the importance of recognizing the role of belief in our knowledge, rather than assuming that knowledge is the source of belief. For a recap you can read that article here.

Today I would like to make an observation that builds upon yesterday’s article. It has to do with having a Crisis of Faith. A crisis of faith is a term that is often used to describe someone who has had to reconsider their faith in God due to extra ordinary or extra reflective circumstances.

Yes, there are probably genuine crisis of faith, but what we are usually talking about are not crisis of faith at all. Usually people are having a Crisis of Absolutes. Since for centuries we (as a Western society) have assumed that knowledge comes prior to belief—not just any knowledge but an absolute kind, a universal, a priori, knowledge—when what we understand to be true about God and the world comes into question so does the faith that is built upon that knowledge.

For example, if someone has knowledge of God to be a loving God but their life is turning up to be a mess full of broken and spiteful relationships—God’s love is nowhere apparent—then they may end up having a crisis of faith. They may doubt whether or not they should trust in a God who is so obviously absent. Now, to be clear, I am not saying that someone should not have a crisis of faith in this situation. I am suggesting that what we primarily have is a crisis of knowledge.

God may still actually be loving, but maybe God is not loving in the way that someone knew that God was loving. It turns out that who they knew God to be is convoluted—not absolute. Maybe someone’s knowledge of God’s love is more like our knowledge of Santa Clause figures. God is in this sense a cosmic gift giver. It is very possible that God is actually love. However, in this simple analogy, that does not necessarily include a knowledge of love as one who answers every petition or eliminates every evil.

Because it has been assumed that our belief is based upon knowledge and overlooked that our knowledge comes from belief then we falter in our faith whenever our knowledge is called into question. We may benefit from recognizing the role of belief in our knowledge so that we do not have as many crisis of faith due to crisis of absolutes.

Our belief and our knowledge about God, the universe, others, and our self are very fluid. They are constantly in dialogue with one another. As our belief changes so does our knowledge. As our knowledge changes so does our belief. This is not a crisis. This is the nature of our existence—the existence of people with limited perspectives rather than absolute perspectives.

So, next time you or someone you know is having a crisis of faith—though I recognize such times can be genuinely serious—calm down. Ask (like M. Night Shyamalan movies do) what assumptions about reality have come under fire. These are likely things that someone has chosen to believe, but has regarded as absolute. This is ok. This is normal. This is what we must do as humans. Our knowledge and belief are in continuous formation. Consequently this makes trusting in God all the more, well, trusting.

For the next Chicken or the Egg post click here.

Chicken or the Egg

2005-10-10T05:36:00.000-07:00

What came first—the chicken or the egg? The answer makes all the difference. This question, although possibly once about the actual chicken and egg, has become largely metaphorical. It speaks to those relationships where you cannot have one without the other. You take away the egg and you have no chicken. Take away the chicken and there is no egg.

I think that this metaphor applies to another relationship—belief and knowledge. Since the 17th century and Descartes there has been an unbalanced answer to the question of which came first, belief or knowledge. Descartes said famously (paraphrased) “I think therefore I am.” In other words, Descartes had knowledge that he thought and therefore believed that he existed. Knowledge came first.

Ever since this revelation, the Modern Era obsessed over finding these rational (obvious to everyone in all places and circumstances) streams of knowledge from which they could warrant belief. As you can imagine, God did not fare too well. Nothing fared well, actually—including Descartes. Efforts to discover this sort of absolute or universal knowledge (centuries later) proved itself to be futile.

Consequently, the Postmodern Era has largely abandoned these Modern efforts to discover universal knowledge of truth. There has been a move away from attempts to simplify our complex world to embracing the world’s complexities. What does this mean for the age old Chicken and Egg metaphor? It means that belief is making a comeback.

It turns out that our knowledge (scientific, philosophical and otherwise) is based upon how we believe ourselves to be in relation to ourselves, our environment, our universe and others. Consequently, if one were to take away belief then we would have no knowledge of the world in which we live. Likewise, if one takes away knowledge then we have nothing in which to believe.

So what does this mean for the Christian? It means quite a lot probably. No longer does the world ask us to prove God’s existence (unless of course someone is still operating in Modern Era categories of knowledge). Since the world has freed the Christian from such a dilemma I think that it is fair for the Christian to concede something as well. I actually don’t think that a Christian has a choice.

It is time to stop claiming absolute knowledge about God and the world. Yes, I said it. I am not the first. Rather than attempting to continue to defend ourselves against Modern Era accusations, that forced us to try to prove God’s existence in some universal fashion, we need to embrace our knowledge as based upon belief.

Does this leave us unable to defend God? Maybe. There are people out there who will never know anything because they cannot commit to believing something. It is time for all of us, Christian or not, to move into the overwhelming complexities of our relationships to the world, to our selves, to God and to others and attempt to make meaningful connections.

The question of ‘Why believe’ is still important—it is increasingly important. We should believe (it is necessary to our survival) so that we may know. We should continue to seek scientific, philosophical, relational and other forms of knowledge (it is of utmost importance) so that we can continue to form our belief. We cannot separate the Chicken from the Egg any more than we can separate Knowledge and Belief. Consider, finally, a couple verses from the Bible that know this all too well.

Hebrews 11:1-3 (my paraphrase): Now faith, the act of trusting through belief, is the assurance, the knowledge, of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen…by trusting we understand that the universe was created through God’s voice…

Romans 1:19-22 (English Standard Version): For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse. For although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools…

It would do all of us a great deal to revisit the inseparable relationship between Knowledge and Belief. The preverbal rabbit hole goes as deep as the Chicken and the Egg.

So, Christians, on a side note, as we share our faith with others lets not assume that the most important things are cognitive efforts to solidify proper knowledge. We must make sure that we give attention to issues of trust and the relational, psychological, emotional and sociological factors that shape the act of trusting through belief. It is these factors that are largely overlooked as many of us continue in the path of Descartes.

For the next Chicken or the Egg post click here.

Love and Marriage

2005-10-07T11:30:00.000-07:00

Since my time is limited lately by the inconsiderate nature of deadlines I thought that I would post a response that I wrote for Laura's blog. She wrote a very insightful blog on relationships that you may want to check out and respond to here.

Disclaimer: This is a risky subject for a man to write about. If my wife reads this--depending on the day and which way the wind is blowing--I could be in trouble...or it could be the best moment of my life. Have mercy.

Response: I, a non believer in 'the one,' am happily married--over all--but not 'in love' many days. However, I love my wife. There is a difference as I am sure you know. However, some days my wife and I are not even sure that we like each other...much less are 'in love' with each other.

We do sometimes wonder if we made the 'right' decision...if life would be different if we had made other decisions. We both have had moments of feeling trapped in our marriage--being numb with so much disappointment and longing as Renee puts it. I think that this is normal and that each couple/individual has their own methods--be them good or bad--for coping or resolving said feelings.

Laura and I try to practice honesty and leave room for the 'okness' of being hurt. In the end we know that we could 'survive' being married to other people. In fact, there are things that we enjoy experiencing relationally with others of the opposite sex that we do not/cannot experience with our spouse. We do not completely fulfill/find the longings--'spark'--of/within one another...not even close.

However, in humble and genuine commitment to one another--love--we discover within the context of our relationship new things that could not exist anywhere else--with anyone else. Ultimately these discoveries--though they may make us fight at first--eventually make us deeper 'in love' with each other.

I do not know how people who are simply dating can experience this. There is simply no reason to stay together through the pain that an intimately committed relationship can bring. If Laura and I were just dating we would have broken up long ago.

In short, our moments together are sometimes very disappointing (moments can last a long long time); but with the help of others our relationship over the long run (five years) has been very satisfying--even surprising, leaving us very grateful. However, it is safe to say that we still have longings that make us sad...I think that this is ok and part of our process.

Choosing a spouse is like so many other choices. The choice immediately limits possibilities or other options--and those should be mourned; however, the act of commitment opens up an infinite realm of new choices, experiences and possibilities previously unavailable to the uncommitted.

Schedules and Deadlines

2005-10-04T15:26:00.000-07:00

Deadlines are picking on me. They don't like me. They are always against me. I never have done anything to deserve their oppressive attention.

In fact, it is quit the opposite. I try to ignore them. I try to avoid them. I attempt to pretend like they are not there. I go out of my way to leave them alone. Yet they always seem to hunt me down--like stalkers.

Deadlines are like that annoying guy in the coffee shop that just can't get the hint that conversation is unwanted. Regardless of my body language and short attention span deadlines won't stop gibbering.

They talk nonsense...as if what they have to say is the most important thing in the world. They are arrogant too. They don't care what I have to say. It is always all about them. They are so vain. It is almost like the world will fall apart if I ignore them--heaven forbid.

Deadlines are so manipulative. They are control freaks. I am like the verbally abused spouse who comes back for more without knowing why. It is as if I can't define my self apart from them. I thought that I was a little better self-differentiated than that. Don't I have my own identity? I can't live up to these expectations...

I need help.

Squid and Woodpeckers

2005-09-29T19:54:00.000-07:00

When I was little I did a school report on the Loch Ness Monster. I think that I wanted it to exist. I wanted something that mysterious to still be 'out there'--to still be elusive to mankind's ability to know this world in which we live. I get excited when I get my National Geographic Adventure magazine. I am excited to see what is out there that I didn't know about.

Recently two big discoveries have been made in the animal world. For the first time a giant squid has been video taped in its own natural habitat. Also, a once thought extinct (almost mythical) woodpecker has been rediscovered in the wild. Read the original Cornell paper here and a Minnesotan birder who is still skeptical here.

I am not sure what excites me about these things. I am not a naturalist, birder or wildlife expert. I got excited last week watching a PBS episode on the effects of global warming on polar ice caps--I got excited because they discovered a species of worm that is living in the freshwater melting ice.

Sometimes I want there to be limits to our knowledge so that there are opportunities for our creativity...for our imagination. It is amazing to me that the largest squid and the largest woodpecker can be so elusive. It amazes me that Osama cannot be found.

When I watch the news I get the feeling that mankind has permeated every once of the planet. It is refreshing to know that we have a long ways to go. I am encouraged by the infinite nature of our lack of knowledge.

If the monster of Loch Ness does exist I hope that she escapes discovery for a while longer. Hopefully our often reckless inhabitation of the planet will not unknowingly steal away opportunities for discovery (as in the case of the Ivory Billed Woodpecker).

New opportunities for discovery are evolving all around us--that is somehow refreshing. What else is out there?

Great is Over Rated

2005-09-28T08:07:00.000-07:00

Those of you who have known me over the past six years and have had a recent conversation with me also know that I have changed substantially in that time span. I am not the same person I used to be. My world view is different and my personality is perhaps a little more refined from years of depression. The world will forever look different to me.

While I have many thoughts that have developed during this time--and continue to develop--I have one that I want to share with you today. Great is over rated.

First: a little background. Dreaming about future possibilities and being able to trust God have always come easy to me--like second nature. I am not a skeptic at heart. I am an optimist, an idealist, a romantic. Consequently I tend to be very impressionable.

Needless to say, my secular and Christian upbringing left a fairly large impression upon me. They combined to tell me that the future was mine to make of it what I could. My only limitation was my own lack of imagination--or faith. While I suppose that there is some validity to a high school teacher pumping up their 9th grade class with dreams of possibilities--dreams of great things--there is also much that was overlooked.

As a Christian from a Christian family, I grew up hearing incredible Bible stories. I heard about Daniel in the lions' den, Moses and the Red Sea, Joseph and his dreams, David and Goliath, Abraham and his son, Noah and his ark, Esther and the kingdom, Jesus and his disciples, Paul and his journeys...the list of great stories seems endless. I was encouraged to emulate these people and their faith that did great things. I was told that God could do great things through anyone. This may be true, but much has been overlooked.

Because I am impressionable I believed that I could find fulfillment through trusting God to use my life for great purposes. Now I didn't care if I got recognition or actually did something great--I just wanted fulfillment in life. I was led to believe that fulfillment came from the future--from a great future. Isn't that part of the message contained in the American Dream?

Now, five years later, I am here to say that great is over rated. And if great is contained in the future then maybe the future is over rated as well. It seems that my demographic (20 somethings) are consumed with the future--with transitioning to the right place, with establishing a family, with establishing something for our future. Our lives are on hold for what is to come. We have over looked the present. How many of us could say that right now our life has closure as a whole? How many of us could (this is a morbid thought) die today with closure--with some sort of resolution that our life has been enough? Our personal sense of fulfillment is probably attached to something yet to come in our lives--something great in the future.

I am not suggesting that we should give up goals and dreams for great things in the future (see description of my personality above). I can't help but to dream about future possibilities...but not with priority over the present.

I just had a conversation last week with my father-in-law over a book that he had been reading. It was about living in the present--not the past or the future. 'Present' was used as a play on words. It meant a gift as well as a moment in time. I used to think of unwrapping my future as a gift--but my present? Are my stack of bills to pay, my arguments with my wife, my work, mowing the lawn and worrying about finances really a gift?

Take a look at this quote by William James that I found at the back of The Art of Possibility by Rosamund and Benjamin Zander:

I am done with great things and big plans, great institutions and big successes. I am for those tiny, invisible loving human forces that work from individual to individual, creeping through the crannies of the world like so many rootlets, or like the capillary oozing of water, yet which, if given time, will rend the hardest monuments of human pride.

I am not only done with great things and big plans, great institutions and big successes, I am tired of them. They make me tired. I only have one life to live and it is not in a past that I can do little about nor is it in an abstract future that exists only in my head; my life must be lived in the gift of the present moment--with intrigue and with abandonment. I cannot hold out for something else when all I ever have is the present.

I find that as I venture to do this I am way behind in my ability to do this. I have never been taught how to value "those tiny, invisible loving human forces that work from individual to individual." I have not been taught how to be satisfied, content and fulfilled with what life has to offer right now. I am venturing in to new territory. I am venturing into my present.

As they say in the Dead Poets Society, I want to learn how to suck the marrow out of life. I hereby give myself freedom to leave the 'greatness' of the future behind in order to abandon myself to the gift of my life in the present--a life that is complete at any one moment.

Sweet Savannah

2005-09-27T06:32:00.000-07:00

This past week Laura and I took our first planned vacation (other than out honeymoon) as a couple. It was....ahhhh. So I thought I would share some pictures. These will be the last pictures of the summer because I start the last year of my grad program today (yesterday by the time I post this)--no more time for fun.

In short: We flew to Orlando and rented a Ford Mustang convertible; drove up the coast past the oldest town in America--St. Augustine, stayed on the beach at an incredible bed and breakfast on Tybee Island--just outside of Savannah--for seven nights. We had complementary wine and cheese every night. We drank a lot. On our last day there we kayaked through the lowlands (a tidal creek at the mouth of Savannah's river as it emptied into the ocean). We saw dolphins up close and navigated the incoming tidal surf. It was....ahhhh.

Laura's parents were able to drive over from Birmingham and stay with us for a few days. We all got our picture taken with the resident timberwolf, Buddy. He was formally wild until he wandered into an Alaska fishing camp one too many times. Craig (one of the guys who runs the B&B) took him home as a pet--check out his eyes.

Now if we could only get to South Africa to see my sister and bro-in-law....

Gone for a Week

2005-09-16T21:03:00.000-07:00

Before I start my final fall quarter of graduate school I am going to take a week off. I will return to write again for the last week of September.

Until then, I know that I just wrote some potentially provocative posts. I would love to hear from anyone who has questions or just flat out disagrees with me. I will check in next week to see if anyone had any thoughts while I was gone.

Have a good week!

Life III: A Lesson from Star Wars and Donnie Darko

2005-09-15T10:07:00.000-07:00

I am a little behind on my movie watching. I do a lot of renting. Movies are today's prose--today's poetry. At least the good ones are. While generations ago we used to read it now we tend to watch it. Movies are our Dostoevskys. They are our cultural prophets.

On the back of my Donnie Darko DVD case a Los Angeles Times reporter states of the movie that it is "one of the key American films of the decade." This might be true if only I understood half of it. I know this: I need to watch or read Watership Down again to discover any implication it may have in its obvious connection to Donnie Darko (check out the web site). Twenty years after Watership Down scared me as a child it has come back to haunt me again--only this time with a sense of awakening.

I digress before I even begin. I did not start this post to talk about the rabbit (Frank) of Donnie Darko or the rabbits of Watership Down. I wanted to point out a connection that I noticed between Star Wars III and Donnie Darko. I believe that the message contained there is a prophetic commentary on our current American culture. In particular the media and the Christian church may want to pay close attention.

I have trouble moving from one media exposure to another without taking time to interpret what I have seen. I did not have to make a point to stop and reflect this time. Reflection grabbed me like I imagine a heart attack would. There was little I could do about it. It started when I was sitting in the cheap theater watching Star Wars III and Obi-Wan Kenobi. Obi-Wan, acting prophetically in the movie, stated that those who speak in absolutes are influenced by the Dark Side of the Force. Wow. Now that is a counter cultural statement for America's media and for its Christian church.

The Christian church has made a point of depending upon absolute statements about life and God to maintain authority in the world. Who would have guessed that this is from the Dark Side--that is if we give Obi-Wan a voice in the church. I think we should. Contrastingly, many believers rely upon their knowledge of 'absolutes' to give them a firm foundation for their faith and Christian practice. Consequently, many crisis of faith are crisis of what we once held as absolute.

Could Obi-Wan be offering a futuristic warning in the same strain of the historic warning to the Corinthians? "...we know that 'all of us possess knowledge.' This 'knowledge' puffs up, but love builds up. If anyone imagines that he knows something, he does not yet know as he ought to know. But if anyone loves God, he is known by God" (I Cor. 8-1-3). I can almost imagine Yoda speaking those words.

Now obviously it is important to pursue knowledge...but what kind of knowledge? the absolute kind? the polarizing kind? The media like to polarize issues as much as anybody does. In fact, that is how you create an issue--you polarize it, you make it into extremes, you speak in absolutes. How many times have I been frustrated by questions and issues that appear to only have absolute answers. Am I for abortion or against it? Am I for the war or against it? Am I a Democrate or a Republican. It is not that simple. Watch the news and see how simply the media frames issues. Just about every issue has two sides as if it were only two dimensional.

Donnie Darko sat through a classroom session where his teacher made them watch a video about the power of fear to inhibit love. After the video was done she drew on the chalk board a straight line with 'Fear' written on the left side and 'Love' written on the right side. She explained that in any situation we are being motivated by one and the other. The goal is to free ourselves from the power of fear so that we may operate out of the freedom of love. To help the students see this reality she had them read a hypothetical situation and place an X on the continuum connecting fear and love based upon which motivational combination was compelling the hypothetical characters. Donnie Darko refused--and got angry.

He argued that life was not that simple. This two-dimensional diagram left no room for any other influential factors in the hypothetical situation. It overlooked the complexities found in real world scenarios. It boiled all of our emotions and motivations down to two categories. This was outrageous for Donnie Darko.

I will grant the teacher (and our churches and the media) that it helps to polarize issues for the sake of the learning environment--it makes teaching easier. However, it also teaches a simplistic and absolute view of the world. Overcome fear for love. I think that I have friends who have seen this video by Donnie Darko's teacher. This is not a bad principle I guess. But that is all that it is. It is a generality, not an absolute.

Maybe we are accustomed to speaking with such absolute, 'blanket', statements because it gives us a little more influence, respect, control and power--reflections of the Dark Side of the Force. Maybe the truth contains too many complexities for us that we feel as if we must speak in generalizations disguised as absolutes?

It could be that Obi-Wan and Darko are saying that it is time for us to deal with life's complexities. Maybe then faith and trust will take on new meanings.

Life II: A Lesson from Garden State

2005-09-13T23:10:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite movies is Garden State. I recently looked up Garden State on Amazon and looked at what movies people either bought along with Garden State or after viewing Garden State. Strange. They are all some of my other favorite movies (i.e. Eternal Sunshine, Sideways, Anchorman, Finding Neverland, Lost in Translation and Donnie Darko). I deduct from this that there is a category of people out there that all watch the same movies. It appears that I fit this demographic fairly well.

Oh well...I still think that Garden State has something to say a wider demographic--for those who take the time to listen. The premise of the movie (proceed with a little caution if you have not seen it--although there really isn't a surprise ending: it is all about the process) is that a little boy (Andrew Largeman) is involved with an at-home accident that leaves his mother paralyzed. His father (Gideon Largeman), who is a psychologist, prescribes some drugs for his son to help him become happy again while later sending him off to a boarding school. He hasn't been home since. The movie begins when Andrew has to come home for his mother's funeral a decade later.

There are many interesting scenes that demonstrate how Andrew is so disconnected from the world that he just kind of lives on in a daze. What he is really disconnected with is himself...so much so that he often just blends in to his environments as if he didn't even exist. This movie is about the process of Andrew finding himself. Of course he does end up finding himself (to some degree). That is no surprise. What is important is how and in what manner.

Without telling you the story I want to highlight two conversations near the end of the movie. The first conversation occurs at the scene of his mothers death. He is sitting in the bathtub in which his mother drowned while talking with Sam (played by Natalie Portman). He sheds an important first tear which Sam humorously collects in a paper cup. The second scene happens directly afterward and involves the long put off conversation between Andrew and Gideon. Here they are edited and excerpted...

from Scene 21:
Andrew: "Fuck this hurts so much."

Sam: "Yeah, I know, but that is life. If nothing else that's life, you know? Its real. Sometime it feels like it hurts. Yeah. It's sort of all we have."

from Scene 22:
Gideon: "I am sure you can find lots of things in your life that you can be angry about. But what I don't understand is why you're so angry at me. All I ever wanted was for everyone to be happy again. That's all I ever wanted."

Andrew: "But when were we all ever happy dad? You always say that. When was this time that you have in your mind that we were all so happy...cause I don't have it in my memory. Maybe if I did I could help steer us back there...you know. You and I need to work at being ok if that is not in the cards for us... I'm not going to take those drugs anymore because they left me completely fucking numb. I have felt so fucking numb to everything that I have experienced in my life...and for that...for that I am here to forgive you. You have always said all you wanted was for us to have whatever it is we want... What I want more than anything in the world is for it to be ok with you for me to feel something again--even if it is pain."

"Going against your doctor's recommendation...that is a pretty witty experiment to take on. Don't you think?"

"This is my life dad. This is it. I've spent 26 years waiting for something else to start. So, no; No, I don't think it is too much to take on because it is everything that there is. I see now it's all there is. You and I are going to be ok. You know that, right? We may not be as happy as you have always dreamed we would be, but for the first time let us just allow ourselves to be whatever it is we are...and that will be better. Ok? I think that will be better.

Somehow through Gideon's desire for his son to be happy and for him not to feel pain Andrew learned exactly that. He learned not to feel pain--to hold out for happiness. However, happy feelings never came. If you can't feel sad can you really feel happy? Consequently, Andrew became numb to the world.

I have met many people (including my self at times) that are numb to the world. Could it be that we are holding out for happiness? Are we protecting ourselves from disappointment? Are we afraid that our feelings will embarrass us by revealing too much--by making ourselves to vulnerable? Are we afraid of hurt? Probably.

In that case Garden State may be helpful for us. It is better to feel sad, to feel ok, than it is to feel numb, to feel disconnected. Is this true? Is there some beauty to be salvaged even from darkness? I think so.

If we are honest with ourselves then we may have to admit that we might be mostly sad. In light of hurricane Katrina and the war in Iraq sadness seems to be an appropriate emotion. Hereinlies the dilemma for many Christians. Do we have an outlet for our sadness? for our anger? Are we forced too quickly by our theology or Christian community to be happy? Has this so repeatedly happened that we now feel numb?

There has been a revitalization of the Lament in Christian tradition. The Bible is full of Lament. I don't read or hear many authentic and genuine lamentations in Christian community today. I here a few, but the sad fact is that not too many leaders are teaching us how to be sad--how to be angry. How then can we authentically rejoice? How then can we be grateful? How then can we feel at all.

I am grieved at how many bored people I see walking around and sitting in Sunday pews. Who is going to engage these people with their sadness? Instead, as a society and as a church, we distract these people from their sadness. We tell them to be happy. We tell them to hope. Now they feel wrong for not being happy. Now they don't feel.

Maybe what they need most is to say, "Fuck this hurts so much."

And maybe the church needs to affirm their act of feeling by saying, "Yeah, I know, but that is life. If nothing else that's life, you know? It's real. Sometime it feels like it hurts. Yeah, it's sort of all we have."

I can already hear the protests of some Christians. "No. That is not all we have. We have a future of hope. We have God's promises." I say to those Christian that you are disconnected with the life most of us are living. You are disconnected with Jesus' own tears over the death of his friend. You are disconnected with the beautiful gift of feeling that God has given to us--our access to participating in God's own heart.

Rather than holding out for something better...for some other happier life to start, maybe we need to recognize that at least for now this life is all there is. "You and I are going to be ok. You know that, right? We may not be as happy as you have always dreamed we would be, but for the first time let us just allow ourselves to be whatever it is we are...and that will be better. Ok? I think that will be better."

Maybe our message to our Christian communities could be: "What I want more than anything in the world is for it to be ok with you for me to feel something again--even if it is pain." In this way maybe we will engage something inside of us that is very closely participating in the gift that God has given to us--the gift of our own lives.

Life I: A Lesson from Tombstone

2005-09-12T00:51:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning intending to post on the relationship between the final words of Doc Holiday to Wyatt Earp in the movie Tombstone with the ending of Garden State. After further reflection I decided that I had too much to say. So this is part I: A Lesson from Tombstone.

When I was a bachelor living in this house with three other guys we maintained a religious routine. We would all return from work; warm up our dinner in the microwave; sit on the couch; watch Judge Judy; laugh; watch a scene from Tombstone; quote it and act it out in reference to our day's work; laugh and cheer.

One of our roommates (who went to 4 years of school to be a police officer) had a Tombstone nickname that we all sang (yelled) in unison: John "smut-dog, law-dog, law don't go around here no more, law-dog, smut-dog" Schmutzer! (pronounced 'smutzer'). The nickname escalated in speed and loudness until Schmutzer was a frenzied cry. It sounded best after a few beers.

It turns out that those were formative times for me. Tombstone is now possibly the most quoted movie in my marriage (most of the quoting done by me, of course). Lately, I have been quoting Doc Holiday's last conversation to Wyatt Earp before Doc dies of TB: "There's no normal life, Wyatt. There's just life. Now get on with it." Here it is in context:

Doc: "What do you want?"
Wyatt: "Just to live a normal life."
"There's no normal life, Wyatt. There's just life. Now get on with it."
"Don't know how."
"Sure you do. Say goodbye to me. Go grab that spirited actress and make her your own. Take that beauty and run. Don't look back. Live every second. Live right up to the hilt. Live Wyatt."

Often times my wife and I get stuck in a rut as we are attempting to figure out how to go about life. Which direction do we go? How do we get there? What are our goals? When life doesn't play out like it has been planned or anticipated we are back to the drawing board. It is a never ending cycle of re-evaluation. Life is always changing and never seems to reach that place of normalcy. Sometimes this is dissatisfying.

That is a perfect time to whip out a Tombstone quote. "There's no normal life. There's just life. Now get on with it." Perfect. Doc Holiday's quote gives freedom to me in those times I am caught trying to control my life's circumstances--even today as I long for a time where I won't have a desk full of paper work to do...or not knowing whether or not I will be deployed to Iraq next year.

Even though this is a message applicable to nearly everyone that I know, it may have a special application to Christians who attempt to control what life ‘should’ be about. I can picture King Solomon (possible author of Ecclesiastes and many proverbs; one of the richest and wisest persons ever to live) saying what Doc said to Wyatt.

Many Christians suffer like Wyatt Earp suffered. They don't know what to do with themselves. They are waiting and hoping that someone will tell them what to do with themselves. Each of our Christian communities has an idea of what the 'normal' Christian looks like. If you don't think so then go to your church and ask around what a Christian looks like--see how diverse the responses are.

I am guessing that some of the responses can closely identify with attempts to be one who "fears God and keeps his commandments." After all, Solomon concludes that this is the "whole duty of man." The attempt to do this certainly may not be normal in a broad, world wide, sense, but it is certainly normal for what a Christian is. Additionally, each Christian community has a common, 'normal,' way that they attempt to do this.

If we are not careful our pursuits of normality can hinder us from seeing a broader picture--a more diverse picture. How come answers to what a Christian looks like do not more closely resemble the rest of Ecclesiastes? What if life, 'who we should be,' was like the rest of the book as well. What would Christians be forced to see there? Could it include what Doc said to Wyatt?

Could it be to "Go grab that spirited actress and make her your own. Take that beauty and run. Don't look back. Live every second. Live right up to the hilt. Live Wyatt."? Could it be that Wyatt was stuck in a rut thinking that he needed to figure out how to live a normal life--so stuck that he could not trust his own being, his own desires, and enjoy the adventurous unknowns life could bring him? Could it be that many Christians are stuck in this same rut? Of course I think so.

I don't think that I have ever been told by another Christian to do what is on my heart without also feeling like there is some spiritual agenda that my heart is supposed to reveal to me--something that would make my decision appear 'normal'. I have always wanted to "suck the marrow out of life" like they attempted to do in Dead Poets Society. I often need someone like Robin Williams to rip out the pages of my book of 'what I should do' and set me free. I need someone like Doc.

Only one person has ever read Ecclesiastes and told me to "Go, eat your bread in joy, and drink your wine with a merry heart, for God has already approved what you do. Let your garments be always white. Let not oil be lacking on your head. Enjoy life with the wife whom you love, all the days of your vain life that he has given you under the sun, because that is your portion in life and in your toil at which you toil under the sun" (Ecc. 9:7-9)--and for him I am grateful.

I often need someone to set me free from this generalized and idealistic pursuit of the 'normal' life. There is just life...so live every second. This could be from Doc and it could be from Solomon...

Canoe Trip II: Cannon River

2005-09-08T06:50:00.000-07:00

It has become a family tradition (almost) to canoe down the Cannon River in the summer time. This year the occasion was the result of Laura's birthday wish. She would have rather floated a tube down the river but I have a strong preference (not a phobia) against swimming in lakes, oceans and rivers. So we canoed.

Since this trip was the day after I returned from the Boundary Waters I was happy to let the canoe be taken by the current. I was sore. My main focus was to not tip grandma overboard during the low parts of the trip.

I didn't take the camera on the water, but thought that I would share what pictures I did take. I seem to be in a picture sharing mood lately. Maybe that is partly because my brain has taken a vacation for the summer.

We drive to an old town called Welch Village (est. 1860) nestled in the bluffs to get outfitted and ride up the river. There is not much in the town--my pictures cover about 50% of it. I would recommend the trip to anyone who wants a leisurely afternoon. We saw a lot of turtles, big birds, eagles and jumping fish.

Canoe Trip I: BWCAW

2005-09-07T09:25:00.000-07:00

I just got back from a long weekend of playing hard. I am sore but loving the memories. A good friend of mine, Jon Kodet, invited me to go to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness on the Minnesota and Canada border. I had been camping there once before and jumped at the chance to go again.

We canoed and portaged into a campsite that we hence dubbed, St. Grog. Grog was the rum, water and kool-ade concoction that we choked down. I saw the best Northern Lights display that I have seen since I was a kid (no pictures though)--it was a vast white glow in the moonless northern sky with beams of white shooting up into space. The Milky Way was intense as well.

Jon and I were attacked by bats while doing some night fishing. Jon took it like a man and I whimpered like a school girl. There were about 20 bats circling our boat and dive bombing our lures--even while I was holding the lure in my hand.

I am thinking about planning a week-long trip next year. But until then I will just keep looking over my pictures. Here are a few (a lot) for you to look through. Most of them are self explanatory with the exception of the one where we were catching drinking water in the storm--but now you know. Enjoy...

Jon, Jason and Joe: this grog's for you.

Happy Birthday Wife

2005-09-02T12:12:00.000-07:00

It is Laura's Birthday! She turns old today.

Is that mean? Probably. I think that it is funny. We make such a big deal about age...as if the best of life happens when we are young. Some of the best things in life only get better with age...like sex (I think) and wine and cheese and wisdom. Adventure doesn't stop with age...the adventures just become more meaningful.

Anyways...no matter how you measure age, 31 just isn't that old. It is just the beginning of old. I am being mean again. I can't stop laughing though...I am still in my 20s. Some day I will know what I am talking about.

All kidding aside, I wrote a poem once when I was overseas. It is to my Laura, my wife.

For those of you who repulse at mushy muck read no further. I am normally one of you, but since this is my wife and my poem I think that I am exempt from repulsion for today.

Here's to Laura (and a New Castle too):

Beautiful Eyes
full of soft lullabies
now staring alone into a
suspicious evening--
it's the night that
concerns me

I miss those eyes
tending to my peace--
now I toss before I sleep
a restless heart for none to keep

but I whisper prayers
of a timid heart--
bless my beautiful eyes
while I sojourn
that again they will sing
to the tune
of my goodnight

sleep

TWIP Notes III

2005-08-31T07:42:00.000-07:00

Laura, my wife, just finished her first mini-triathlon on Sunday. She swam, biked and ran in Baxter, MN with our good friends Ben and Jenny. I watched.

I am proud of her. It has always been a dream of hers to do things like this. It is worthy to take note when someone begins to accomplish a dream. Too often dreams lack the occasion, metal and gumption to become reality. So to take note of this dream I took pictures.

This Week In Pictures third edition is pretty self explanatory. I would include captions if I could figure out how. I once knew how but have since forgotten. The pictures progress in chronological order from pre-race to post-race and include me, Laura, Ben and Jenny (mostly Laura of course).

Good job crazy people!

TWIP Notes II

2005-08-30T07:41:00.000-07:00

One of my closest friends is in prison. He committed a horrible crime. His name is Jude.

I can never disregard the severity of his crime nor can I disregard its affects upon lives that have been unwillingly changed by him. However, that being said (and more could be said), I regard Jude with my utmost respect and admiration. In my heart I regard him as my brother. Although I am not the best at keeping in touch, I will never disregard him.

Prior to Jude's initial arrest he deceived a lot of people. It was hard to have been lied to. It hurt. It took courage on my part to trust Jude again. I do not make my self vulnerable in trusting Jude because he has proven himself trustworthy. I entrust my self to Jude because I love him. He is a part of who I am. I do not believe that he takes this for granted.

While I do not hold my self back from Jude I cannot but wonder if he feels that he must hold himself back from me. I wonder if the severity of his crime and the subsequent violations of many friendships cause Jude to expect judgment from even me. How vulnerable in friendship can one be if they expect judgment? In all of his conversations Jude is the suspect--his motives, thoughts, judgments, spiritual insights, process of recovery or any demonstration of normality are on trial. Because of his crime Jude may be left wondering how he can ever trust anyone again. This is gravely unfortunate when perhaps the greatest need for overcoming any traumatic human struggle is the need to trust someone.

While Jude's prison sentence continues I hope that our friendship will also continue to deepen. I am disappointed that since my military deployment I have only been able to visit with him twice. Prior to my deployment we talked almost every other week. With my graduate schedule it takes a lot of pre-planning to achieve a visit with Jude. This is something I look to improve--for both of our sakes.

When I visited with him in January we got on the topic of blankets. I was complaining at how few blankets I have ever had that were made for people over 6 feet tall. Blankets should come in shirt sizes--small, medium, large and extra large. Often I try to curl up in a blanket to watch football in the fall and I can only cover my mid section. If I cover my feet the standard blanket only covers up to my nipples. If I cover my shoulders then my feet stick out.

Jude took matters into his own hands. While in prison he has taken up knitting. He is really good. Today I am the proud owner of the best blanket that I have ever tucked around my body--a product of months of Jude's hard work. No longer will I be a blanket complainer. My blanket even has a tag on it that says "Made Especially for you by Jude." Nice touch.

Andrea was kind enough to send me this picture (thanks, Andrea). The picture does not do justice to the warmth, snuggleability, and vine-like patterns in this blanket. Here it is for the second installment of This Week In Pictures:

Thanks Jude.

TWIP Notes I

2005-08-29T06:55:00.000-07:00

I am back from studying. I admit that I was also on a family vacation to Gull Lake in the Brainard/Baxter area. It wasn't strictly studying for me.

I have pictures to share. This week I will share pics from a camping trip that I took over my birthday with some college friends, our vacation pics and pics from Laura's triathlon that she ran yesterday.

This Week In Pictures begins with a camping trip to Buckhorn State Park, WI. I took this trip with some friends from UWEC. We have managed to stay friends even though we are spread out across Wisconsin and Minnesota. Many (if not most) of my memories from college include these guys. From Left to right they are Ryan Kane, Jason Belair, Tom Mews, Jason Viner and me.

This last picture includes the women that made it out to camp with us (of course many were invited)--Carolyn on the left and Laura on the right (her picture was skillfully added later by Ryan). We also went to Noah Ark water park (on Aug 12...my birthday) and tried to bowl in town (even the Jewish kid from Milwaukee was no match for Jason Viner :) ) But as usual, my favorite times were at night around the camp fire. Laura and I look forward to next year.

For more pics of the camping check out Ryan's website.

Headlines

2005-08-19T11:54:00.000-07:00

I know that I promised to leave a place to muse for a while...I will. I just saw these breaking headlines and thought that I would include them here.

Rumsfeld Makes Surprise Visit to Wife's Vagina "Rumsfeld: 'I am proud to report that my wife met and exceeded the operational standards set by the U.S. military for readiness in a two-front war.'"

U.S. Intelligence: Nukehavistan May Have Nuclear Weapons "It is believed that over 90 percent of Nukehavistan's 17 million citizens work in the power-plant industry."

Evangelical Scientists Refute Gravity With New 'Intelligent Falling' Theory "In Matthew 15:14, Jesus says, 'And if the blind lead the blind, both shall fall into the ditch.' He says nothing about gravity."

For more headlines like, Bush Does 360 On Abortion Stance, visit The Onion

Poetry and the GRE

2005-08-18T07:34:00.000-07:00

I am going to take a break from a place to muse (until the last week of August). Studying for the GRE (Graduate Record Examination) has taken over my life. I have always been a little nervous about my academic abilities. I am not being modest. I am not one of those straight A students who is nervous about getting a B. I like Bs. Bs are my friend. I have always done just what I have to academically--nothing more or less.

In high school I got a 3.0 GPA so that I would be able to maintain lower car insurance rates. In college I got a 2.5 GPA so that I could keep my job as an R.A. It is not that I couldn't have gotten better grades--I just never had any reason to try...until now. So I don't know what I am capable of doing academically. I will find out soon enough.

This is my last year of my MA in Christian Thought at Bethel Seminary and hopefully it will be on to a PhD program in American Literature after that. This is something that I never thought I would do--more school.

When I return to the blogosphere I will post pictures of a recent camping trip that I was on and hopefully share a story (and picture) of the best blanket that I have ever owned. For now I will leave you with a poem that I have written....

I admittedly do not know much about poetry. It is a hobby that I would like to develop. So if any of you reading this do know things about poetry I am always starving for constructive criticism. You can do it publicly with a comment on this blog or email me personally. Don't worry about hurting my feelings (or flattering me). As of this point I am not emotionally attached to my abilities as a poet (at least I don't think I am). The poem is a bit out of season...

I have left my breath
behind as I've walked
for all to see
the strain on my heart--
my lungs can't disguise it.
'Everyone's Welcome'
at the Blue Moon Cafe--
but my feelings
seem to be descending
like this mist--
like the temperature
for that matter.
So why? and why
should I take
the long way--
forgetting you hurt me
seems so much
warmer today.

Will we say
a partial good-bye--
like those ancient swords
in plexi-glass cases
at the Chicago Art Museum?

I should have worn
another jacket.
It is a long, cold
walk to Spring.

Brett Knutson
aka b-nut

Twins and Cubs

2005-08-17T09:31:00.000-07:00

If I could ever figure out how to add categories to this blog I would probably have one for baseball.

Since I am studying for the GRE all day (and am getting a late start) I will post light today. Just enough to say congratulations to the Twins for their marathon win against the White Sox. Today they go for the sweep (on the road) against baseball's toughest team.

Congratulations to the Cubs as well. It has been a miserable season to any fan with high expectations (Cubs fans should know better). The Cubs are sadly tied with the Brewers in their division--it has come to this. However, despite their woes they are still hanging on to the Wild Card race. Last nights victory over the Astros should give them a good boost.

For the first time this season the Cubs are playing with their intended starting lineup. Nomar is finally back and contributing. Even though Wood is throwing out of the pen now it should be interesting to see how they are able to finish a tough season.

Redemption vs. Evangelism

2005-08-16T08:47:00.000-07:00

My good friend, Adam, is starting a multi-day post on evangelism. I responded to his post today and thought that I would include an edited version of my response here.

I might be a Christian that does not see evangelism as an essential spiritual discipline. I am not against people developing a faith and practice in relationship to the Christian God. However, I am against the idea of making converts (evangelism) as a primary relational motivation. I am against the strong us/them distinctions that the word evangelism evokes. I am against sitting around with Christian friends and philosophizing about how to convert my friends. I am also against (as you mentioned, Adam) attractional, depersonalized, marketing schemes designed to lure others into an 'organizational christianity'--this is propaganda and is what many organizations participate in to some degree.

If we took the word 'evangelism' and placed it in the semantic toilet and flushed for a long time, that would be good.

We are in need of new words to reconstruct how we relate with one another. Redemption, until perverted, might be one of those. If we are at work to redeem each other it does not matter whether or not we have faith or will ever come to faith.

If someone is going to redeem another then they must really know them. If one were to redeem my frustrating night last night then they might tell me how valuable my thought processes are despite the how they lead me to procrastinate. They might give me the courage I need to embrace what is good about me. This of course would require that Christians can read the world (the world not according to Thomas Kinkade) and discover beauty, goodness and truth in what they see. This is a task which I fear that many who don't regard Jesus as their Savior are just plain better at--even though they may not embrace a larger-than-life story which has any redeeming value.

Then again, the word 'redemption' might not be what I am looking for. I just know that the way that the word 'evangelism' (and sometimes 'witnessing') has emerged within Christian subculture is repulsive.

Incidentally, I feel the same way about the word 'missional' as it is used in some circles. Don't get me wrong. I am not against telling someone 'facts' about Christianity or about how meaningful my faith is for me; I am not even bashful about telling friends that I think my faith can be meaningful for them. However, this is not a one way street.

My friends (regardless of faith) can have a redeeming value for me if I give them a voice in my life. This weekend I spent time camping with some of my closest friends--even though we are distant. I don't know if any of them would profess to be a Christian, although some might; I am sure some would not.

These friends have full reign in my life to offer me advice and console me in life. I respect what they have to say. They tell me when I am treating my wife poorly and even help me make career decisions. They even listen to my frustrations with my faith and occasionally read this blog. This past weekend I learned from them when a joke can go to far; I also learned about what is refreshing about being loved. I have few friends that care for me like they do.

Because of my faith I believe that all of these things that I learn from them (full of goodness, truth and beauty) are from God. They minister to me out of the gift of life that God has given to them. I only hope that I can do the same for them.

It is ultimately up to each of us (Christian or undecided or non-Christian) what place we will give the redemptive power of Jesus' story in our lives. In this regard we are all equal in our pilgrimage. Each day our questions, doubts and beliefs face new relevance.

The Power of a Journey

2005-08-15T10:31:00.000-07:00

I am sitting at Dunn Bros. listening to Lynyrd Skynyrd's Sweet Home Alabama. I could listen to that song for a really long time. Even now as it is winding down I want someone to hit 'repeat'.

There is something in my heart that noticeably swoons when I hear "big wheels keep on turning.'" I flashback to just yesterday as I was riding down I94 with a long time friend wondering what it would be like to be the driver of an 18 wheeler for even a short time...to see what they see.

I have this same fascinations with trains, railroad tracks, space, air planes, barges, rivers, oceans, big ships, buses, and even hiking trails. They each contain an element of mystery--like their distant destination, the unknowns of their journey and the stories of those who journey together.

Even the star ship Enterprise launches me into a futuristic journey where possibility is all that there is. Old photos on the walls of restaurants residing in historic buildings also never fail to launch me into a nostalgic journey of what once was. This may have been part of the 1980s appeal of Back to the Future.

These journeys into the unknown are all full of possibilities. They contain both the possibility to freshly define ourselves in a moment of time as well as the possibility to be newly defined or discovered by the journey itself. Each presents us with the opportunity to discover something new--the potential to escape our lives as we know them and discover what we always knew could be there.

Stowing away on a ship or empty rail car is about embracing romance. It is about the embracing dreams and ideals. It is about giving voice to our restless heart.

I used to lay on my back on the airport's tarmac waiting for the next plane to arrive at its designated parking place. I would stare into the night sky with my ear muffs drowning out the airport noise and dream about new possibilities. Often as I loaded a plane with bags I would notice the destination tag and wonder what it must be like to travel there if only for a night.

I am sure that each journey would get old--they are idealistic after all--but that is precisely why the power of a journey keeps haunting us. There is always something new around the corner. There are always past journeys to romance us so that they may bring new energy to our present. There are distant worlds and future possibilities to bring us forward to what is next.

There is character to be forged on pilgrimage. It is the self-defining journey of Frodo and the rest of his Hobbit and Elven friends that is too seldom related to our own quests of school, job hunting and family raising. In our own journeys it is important to be inspired by those who have gone before us and those places that are yet undiscovered. Without this romance we will soon be bored with ourselves. We will not be intrigued by our own journeys--we will be trapped by them.

In the practical world that I live in I am sure that I would tire of traveling, but I can't imagine that I will ever tire of dreaming. In fact, the journey described by Lynyrd Skynyrd is one which is tired of being on the road. It is a coming home to all that is familiar. Their journeys have spawned in them a new romance for their home, Alabama.

Maybe it is often in our travels that we realize where home is. Maybe the power of romance is that it always brings us to what is real--no matter how warm or harsh that reality may be. Maybe I like the mysteries of travel--or journeys--because they ground my restless heart in what really matters.

Sweet Home Alabama
(ed king - ronnie vanzant - gary rossington)

Big wheels keep on turning
Carry me home to see my kin
Singing songs about the southland
I miss alabamy once again
And I think it's a sin, yes

Well I heard mister young sing about her
Well, I heard ole neil put her down
Well, I hope neil young will remember
A southern man don't need him around anyhow

Sweet home alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet home alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you

In birmingham they love the governor
Now we all did what we could do
Now watergate does not bother me
Does your conscience bother you?
Tell the truth

Sweet home alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet home alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
Here I come alabama

Now muscle shoals has got the swampers
And they've been known to pick a song or two
Lord they get me off so much
They pick me up when I'm feeling blue
Now how about you?

Sweet home alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet home alabama
Lord, I'm coming home to you
Sweet home alabama

Oh sweet home baby
Where the skies are so blue
And the governor's true
Sweet home alabama
Lordy
Lord, I'm coming home to you
Yea, yea montgomery's got the answer

Video Games, Death and Jesus

2005-08-11T06:00:00.000-07:00

I came across some interesting gaming stories. I am not much of a gamer--not since college. Now I am strictly a Minesweeper and Solitaire player. I thought that I would leave these quirky stories with you over the weekend.

The first is about a gamer who died from a gaming overdose. Check it out here.

The second story is about the growing role that Jesus is playing in video games. No kidding. "I play a lot of Christian video games," Tolin said. "They don't have fights. You just have to follow Jesus and pick up little crosses for points."

The Christian game industry is hoping to break into a large untapped market of Christian gamers. Although the task is daunting they claim that the Christian music industry wasn't made overnight.

Is it just me or is anyone else tired of the building and maintaining of a Christian culture that attempts to parallel 'mainstream' culture? Doesn't this add to the 'us/them' mentality? Doesn't this add to the degree of separation between a Christian and the rest of the world? This article gave me flashbacks of the movie 'Saved.'

Am I being overly critical of the Christian gaming industry or do we really need to pick up little crosses for points? You can read this article here.

A Nation at War...still

2005-08-10T12:00:00.000-07:00

The front page of the Star Tribune headlines that 2,000 Minnesotans are at attention for deployment. My wife and I have known about this for some time. A year ago this month I was somewhere on my way home from a yearlong peacekeeping mission to Kosovo with the United States Army. It is uncertain where another year into the future will have me. I try not to put my hopes on any one scenario. Until it happens, and sometimes even while it is happening, deployments are about as predictable as the weather. That being said, many of my friends have been packing their bags for months now.

I am proud of my military service and I will be proud to serve again if so called. I am also a Christian. Depending upon whom I talk to these two things, being a Christian and being proud to serve in an armed force, go together like Pizza and cheese or like oil and water. What follows is an honest attempt to discover this soldier's heart. It is an unrefined place that has, despite that fact, chosen definite loyalties. But are they conflicting loyalties? Maybe.

Stanley Hauerwas would think so. Hauerwas is one of America's premiere theologians/ethicists. He is one of my role models in Christian Thought. He is also a pacifist. Incidentally, if you are a pacifist or are uncertain whether you are then you should at least be familiar with Stanley Hauerwas. I have never met a more convincing pacifism. I admire him for it. No one brings to life the Christian story like he does.

Hauerwas argues, simply stated here, that Christians do not live in some in-between time that separates the initiation of the Kingdom of God and some further establishment of it. Rather, when Jesus assumed the throne at his ascension, the Kingdom of God was firmly, fully and eternally established. It is consequently the believers' job, the church's job, to witness to that fact. We are to operate as if we are what we are--members of an eternal peaceable kingdom. Believers are not to be nationalists. They are to be witnesses to an eternal and invisible kingdom that is not of this world. Any participation in governmental structures is simply to serve these ends. This seems to make some government jobs sticky scenarios for Christians if not off-limits.

War, for Hauerwas, is simply one of two things--or a combination of them both. 1) War is an effort to obtain what we do not have (James 4:1-2); 2) War is an effort to secure what we love. Both of these elements involve a level of both greed and fear. Both of these elements are efforts to secure on earth what has already been secured for Christians in heaven. Heaven, or the eternal peaceable kingdom, is the reality that must grip and unite believers. Christians are to live life with an eschatological focus. In other words, the 'end' of our story defines how we live today. This 'end' is all ready present. It is the peaceable kingdom to which we witness. It is the church. It is our ethic. It is that which makes the world, the world, and the church, the church. It is that which is ruled by Jesus--right now. Christians are to live out of their eternal security--keeping in mind their whole story as believers, not just their earthy story; and Christians consequently have no need to secure their earthly fears and wants. Such efforts do not witness to their secured citizenship in God's kingdom.

Just War theories, on the other hand, assume that we do live in an in-between time. The peaceable kingdom does not fully emerge until the earth passes away. Until then, Christians must attempt to figure out how to participate (or not) in the inevitable war nature of earth. If one agrees with this 'in-between time' assumption (which I do not) then one must wrestle with what qualifications for war are 'just.' This is often a very nationalistic and arbitrary process which occasionally--if not frequently--draws on Scripture's war metaphor, human life values, and Israeli history without adequately dealing with Hauerwas's position. Hauerwas, reversely, can articulate and defend a Just War position better than most adherents and arguers.

Herein lies my affliction. I am a soldier--willing to kill. I also agree with Hauerwas's story of the church--witnesses of that which has already come. I apparently am conflicted. This may be more than apparent; it may be that I am actually at odds with my self. Is there a way to be loyal to both kingdoms? What makes the United States right all of the time? It is not. It is a nation that has to do exactly what Hauerwas said. It has to obtain what it does not have and it must protect what it loves--it owes as much to those whom it serves and to those whom find residence within its sovereignty. To what degree it must do these things is up for much debate, but what is not debatable is that it must do these things at least to some degree (a great degree) in order to exist as a nation. In fact, without securing what we don't have and what we love we would not be this nation at all--we would be nationals of some other nation which did instead.

For me it is not about whether or not the United States is right. No one in our government is ever going to give me enough facts so that I can properly asses the situation in Iraq. For those who are not principally pacifists, where one falls on the debate over Iraq is not about who is right or who is wrong as much as it is about how much one trusts what they know about the war. Our information is closely connected with our sources. There are people in my neighborhood who would wonder what George Bush was hiding if he declared that the sky was blue and that grass is green and that cows mooed. They do not trust his administration; they do not trust his motives. There are many who feel the same way about the media--with the exception of Fox News of course.

The nation and its people retain the privilege of debating whether or not Iraq is a Just War by positioning their cases upon whom and what they trust and whom and what they do not. A soldier has given up that privilege long ago. A soldier does not decide anything but how to execute that task that has been assigned to her. The amount of freedom in that decision making process often depends upon the task at hand and the rank of the soldier. A soldier's trust is pre-committed and directly depends little upon current public debates of right and wrong. A United States soldier's trust is based, rather, upon a faithful loyalty to the democratic voice of the people as put forth by their representatives.

It is ultimately my life, and the lives of those we take, which I have submitted to this democratic process--to the United States. This is a sobering thought. In my sobriety (and possibly looking for relief) I wonder whether or not Hauerwas is right. Must a true witness of a peaceable kingdom never take a life or give her life for a simply earthly cause? To what extent can one live in an earthly nation and not be a part of it? How much do the people of the church want the best of both worlds--freedom to practice religion here and in heaven? These are tough questions. I don't have an answer for them.

Many of the military's new recruits shown on the covers of the nation's newspapers, just as in today's Star Tribune, are a special breed. It used to be that recruits would join for college money or for some financial/job security. While that may still be the case in some desperate circumstances, the fact that we are at war means that recruits must have a more life-giving relationship with their decision than what they can receive for college. Many see the decision as an opportunity to serve their communities. Maybe Minnesota has the nation’s highest recruiting record--at 85% of their projected goals--during this wartime effort simply because we have a large number of youth who are looking for purpose. That purpose is to give back to the nation that has given to them.

I suppose that I share in this purpose. As far as we know, Jesus did not tell the centurion to abandon his position (Luke 7:1-10). He did not encourage members of an eternal kingdom to stop funding war efforts by ceasing to pay taxes (Mark 12:13-17). These may be feeble attempts to justify a decision that I have already made and loyalties that I have already chosen. However, I am comforted that my story does not end here--not on this earth. I am also sure that there are other ways to witness to an eternal and peaceable kingdom even while serving a secular nation as a soldier. Since this is my circumstance I am unwaveringly committed to my service.

Whether we like it or not, every part of our daily life here on earth is built upon the lives of those who have fought before us on behalf of secular nations just like this one. It is up to us to figure out how to honor, acknowledge and respect that terrible truth. Although Christians may be nomads on earth, they cannot escape benefiting from those who have died to preserve each nation’s way of life.

I do have one request. If there are Christians who are serving a secular nation with their lives then the rest of us can find it in our time to serve that same secular nation in ways which our faith allows. If the parable of the good Samaritan is at all a witness of the eternal kingdom then we need look no further than our own neighborhood.

In Honor of Pre-Season

2005-08-09T07:15:00.000-07:00

In honor of the Bears winning their first pre-season game I added some additional sports links that are of interest to those in the upper midwest. It looks as if the Bears will be getting better within one of the weakest divisions in Football. But...for all I care the Bears can go 2-14 and the Packers can go 14-2. There are only two games this season that really matter. And if you want to watch the games together, I will even buy all of you Packer Backers a round of Schlitz...hopefully you will need it.

Blockbuster vs. The World

2005-08-08T09:00:00.000-07:00

When it comes to movie rentals there is Blockbuster and there is the rest of the renting world. It is Blockbuster vs. The World. I have to admit...I am cheering for The World.

I am cheering for Netflix even though I am never going to pay ten bones or any other bones per month to rent videos. I am cheering for cable and satellite even though my whole life I have only had bunny ears on top of our family TV. I am cheering for Mr. Movie to make a comeback. Blockbuster is like the Packers--you gotta cheer for whoever is playing against them.

My wife warned me. and I should have listened. but no. I am a guy and this is my confessional. Men can get lost. I have seen it happen at least.

I once was a Blockbuster fan. Now I have come to my senses. Now I see The World the way my wife has seen it from long ago...as a worthy underdog.

Here is my story. Hear me and side with The World.

I was suckered into Blockbuster's 'Buy two get one free' previewed movie deal. I found three great movies. Garden State, The Notebook (for the wife), and Chocolat--the last Chocolat in the store. I took them home to surprise aforementioned wife. The surprise was on me.

My wife immediately was not happy that I had bought some of our favorite movies from Blockbuster. I said they were three times as cheap as buying new ones. Turns out that I was right. Cheaper price, cheaper quality and cheaper service.

I went to watch Chocolat. My movie had been replaced with an imposter--a French film from the 70s called Chocolat. It was not the Johnny Depp Chocolat. My wife demanded that I return all of the movies to Blockbuster--I talked her down.

A few days later I returned Blockbuster's last 'Chocolat' movie. The kid behind the counter just glanced at my receipt and pulled two movies off of their rental shelves, picked the better one, and put it in my case. It has some sort of Blockbuster label on it which activated the store alarms so he handed it to me behind the exit as if I had rented it. Simple enough.

I went to watch Chocolat. It was the right movie this time but three different times from three different places the movie started over from the beginning. My wife was not happy. She wanted me to return all of the movies. I talked her down.

This time I talked to the store manager. I am sure that as soon as he saw me he didn't like me. As he opened the case and saw the old rental DVD he gave me one of those looks where the head doesn't move with the eyes. He was glaring at me through is stringy eyebrows. I explained--a little agitated with the situation. He said he would give me store credit for 9.99 or 6 something in cash. I said I wanted to exchange--secretly hoping Punch Drunk Love was still available.

I told him the exchange should be for free since Chocolat was my free video and the other two that I had bought (I was pointing to the receipt) were for 12.99. I should get a free exchange for any video up to 12.99. He said 9.99. I said that he didn't understand...that Blockbuster has this deal where you buy two and get the third free. It should be free. He said that I apparently didn't understand--he pointed to the price on Chocolat which was 9.99. I started looking around the store for a new hire employee that maybe could help their manager out.

Finally after further attempts to no avail I just decided to find a new video and pay the difference. This of course meant that I would have to explain to my wife why I gave Blockbuster more her hard earned money. I had the ride home to think of something to say to her.

I found Punch Drunk Love. It was for 14.99 (they had raised the price since my original visit). It had been 12.99. I took the video up to Wes--the new hire--expecting to pay 5 bones. He scanned my receipt and the video. The computer rang me up. It was Free. Wes, having been briefed by the manager, said that the video must be mis-priced. It was really 9.99. I shook my head. For once Blockbuster's archaic computer system came to my rescue. The ancient yellow computer sitting on their counter remembered that Blockbuster has this deal--buy two get one free. This is the deal that the manager apparently could not remember even though he could read my receipt. I did not explain this to the new hire.

On the way out to the car I opened Punch Drunk Love and noticed that it looked like a checkers board on the back with plenty of smudgy fingerprints to as well. I took it back to Wes who immediately got ten PDL DVDs and found the best one for me. Meanwhile, the manager took a break from everything that he wasn't doing to check in on Wes.

He had picked up the old Chocolat DVD and was starring at it. "No. no. no." he said pointing to the disk. looking at me through his eyebrows. He started explaining to the new hire that back in the day--two years ago I am sure--before Blockbuster got really good computers they used to mark DVDs with a hand written numbering system. The number that was on this DVD didn't match their store. Slowly shaking his head with a slight look of satisfaction he said, "sir, this is not the way we do things here. This is not how we do things." He turned as if to walk away with my receipt and my new (slightly used) DVD.

With the fear of my wife in me I leaned over the counter and pointed down to the old Chocolat movie. I glared through his fuzzy eyebrows and said, "No. I'll tell you the way you do things here. I don't know how you run your store but that movie came from here. That is not my problem. Your numbering system is your problem." I didn't move...still leaning forward...using all of my height to my advantage pushing those stupid WWJD bracelets to the back of my head.

"If he wants it let him have it."

Wes immediately rang me up. I was relieved and a little shaky. I had never fought so hard for a free movie before. Free food--yes--but not a free movie. He went to check me out but couldn't. He turned to his manager and asked if he was on my account. The manager looked sheepish...mumbled yes...and backed away from the other computer. Evidently he was checking out my rental record. I got my movie--thanked Wes--and headed for home.

I had never been called a thief before. I don't even have a speeding ticket on my record.

This was the last Blockbuster straw. My wife was right and now I know it. That is my confessional and I am sticking to it. It is The World or bust.

Frogtown Pastor

2005-08-05T10:44:00.000-07:00

I wanted to draw your attention to a new link on this website. I had briefly met the Frogtown Pastor before he went to Frogtown. He was a pastor at Hope Community Church--which is, years ago, the last church that I have attended (and a good one). I have gotten to know him a little better through recently reading his blog. Check it out.

I also want to draw your attention to an incredible story. I found the link on the Frogtown Pastor. I could easily erase all of my posts about the Beauty of God and On 'Making Converts' if I could only replace them with this story. As it is, poetic prose can bring to light things that other forms of writing can never do justice to.

It is a semi long story, but once you start you will have trouble putting it down. It is the story of a friendship with a porn star. Grab a cup of joe (or whatever your drink is) and partake on a rewarding journey. If I could beg you to read it I would.

Reversing our Hermeneutics

2005-08-05T09:12:00.000-07:00

A Modern era biblical hermeneutic is still alive and well in local bible studies, local churches, college ministries, Christian radio stations and daily conversations. It is a hermeneutic which causes us to 1) Read the Bible, 2) Get Information, and 3) Tell Others. There may be very few people who actually have the skill sets to be able to do this effectively. It is a hermeneutic which causes us to view the Bible as something to 1) Take to, 2) Give answers to, and 3) Critique pop culture.

Many times these answers and critiques come in the form of defining what is right and wrong. Should I read Harry Potter or shouldn't I read Harry Potter? I had a friend, for example, who upon having their first child got rid of all their movies that had a rating higher than PG. For the Modern era, 'raising children in the way that they should go' meant defining for them what was right and what was wrong by looking to Scripture for these cultural answers.

I always found it ironic when a pastor would use a movie reference in her sermon and then recommend that no one go see the movie--alluding to the thought that we, the congregation, couldn't handle the movie spiritually. The Modern era attempts to enforce a universal (valid for every human being) right and wrong upon our relationship with culture and upon pop culture's relationship with us. This hermeneutic is didactic. It attempts to teach pop culture rather than learn from it or dialogue with it.

"Reversing the Hermeneutical Flow"--as I heard it phrased recently in a b2g gathering--involves a method that is uncomfortable for those of us who have been trained by Modern era thinkers. It is a hermeneutic that causes us to 1) Read/talk about the Bible, 2) Reflect, 3) Live, and 4) Reflect with Others. What is maybe most difficult for Modern era-trained Christians is that, 2) Reflect, is not a reflection upon information gained from reading or talking about Scripture. It is rather a reflection upon the unresolved nature of the stories found there. Similarly, 3) Live and 4) Reflect with Others, is simply an attempt to relate one unresolved story (Scripture) to another (our lives) in hopes of finding a meaningful integration.

It is interesting that non believers--untrained by Modern era biblical hermeneutics--may be more adept at this 'new' hermeneutic than many believers are who have to untrain themselves. In fact, it may only be in dialogue with a 'mixed' bible reading group that some believers can catch on. If this is the case then it may be non believers that can best train Christians in new ways of approaching Scripture. As is the case with this reversed hermeneutic, every time we read Scripture it is a fresh experience. It is not a reading that has in mind a certain right set of conclusions beforehand. Therefore, it can form a reading group that does not necessarily need to be lead by one with superior biblical knowledge.

This hermeneutical approach to Scripture is a hermeneutic which causes us to view the Bible as something to 1) Create Tension and 2) Create Questions in dialogue with pop culture. It is not didactic. It is not attempting to teach or give answers to pop culture any more than it is attempting to be taught and learn new insights from its Advertisements, Music, Film, Sports, Art and TV. This hermeneutical approach is always holding (for purpose of illustration) in one hand the narratives of Scripture and in the other hand the many intermingling narratives of our culture--It is attempting to make meaningful connections.

In the reversed hermeneutic there is not a sharp separation between non believer and believer. All are teachers and all are learners. The differences emerge between us all--Christian and non Christian alike--when we take notice of which narratives are shaping our meaningful connections.

There is much more to unpack here about Reversing our Hermeneutics. Hopefully what I have written here is enough to prompt questions and initiate thoughts. I have a variety of sources for some of the above insights. They have all intermingled to produce today's musing. They directly and indirectly include the b2g movement, Niebuhr, Shults, Pannenberg, McFadyen, and Hauerwas. If you are interested in what came from whom then let me know.

Pouring Concrete: An Update

2005-08-05T08:00:00.000-07:00

I am sore, but I didn't die. I paced myself. I found the smallest wheelbarral they had and went to work. Toolman Dave did an incredible job preparing for the 'big pour.' The stairs from Hell were cream puffs--they were cake. Dave had constructed a real life Shoots and Ladders in his back yard. All we had to do was pour the cement down the right shoot and it went down into the right place. Brilliant.

Everything went smoothly despite the efforts of a neighborhood dog to mess up our finished concrete by playing in it. Needless to say, that dog is going to have a heavy stomach after he cleans himself up.

We ended the night with friends, wine and beer--the way a night should be ended.

Pouring Concrete

2005-08-04T06:21:00.000-07:00

Today I am helping a friend pour concrete. It is a huge job and as you all know I am not a Toolman. I am worried about my muscles, my lungs...about being the only guy who tips over a wheelbarral (buggy) of concrete (mud) in the wrong place--like on the grass or a bush.

I had thought that I had timed this job nicely. I was going to miss the 'big pour.' It should have happened when I was out of town last weekend. Nope. Now I am home--a willing Tool.

Maybe I am being a little sarcastic. I actually enjoy helping my friends. But I am pretty sure that someone might die trying to pour their back stairs. It might be me. They are the stairs from Hell. Of course, once they are full of settled concrete they will be the stairs from Heaven.

Dave and Jill, I am determined to get my use out of your stairs. I will have to come over more often now. That is just the way that it will have to be.

Bring on the PowerAde!

On Making Converts

2005-08-03T08:30:00.000-07:00

I titled this post On Making Converts. A more accurate title might be Why Making Converts is not the Point.

My wife is a nurse. If you have ever been a patient in a hospital then you know how important nurses are. They often posses certain qualities that can make or break your hospital stay. Recently I spent four days in Abbot Northwestern's new heart hospital--for a head injury. I grew very attached to my nurses.

They helped me pee. They washed me. They gave me pain medications. They walked me. They listened to me. They made sure that doctors paid attention to me. They would smile at me. They bandaged my arm. They cleaned my bloody ear. In short, they made me feel really good. They made me feel like I had an advocate, a voice, and a special place in a really large hospital. They took time for me even though they had a thousand other things to be doing.

Needless to say, when you are depending on a nurse for all of these things it is easy to get attached to them. Every shift change I would eagerly wait to see who my next advocate and companion would be. I would wonder: is she going to be nice? is she going to like me? will she make me feel good? is she cute? The last thing that you want in a hospital is to feel like you don't belong there--like you are a waste of somebody's time.

My wife had a patient who had grown pretty attached to her. In fact her whole family was attached to their nurse. This patient was dying. It was with that realization that my wife discovered how she also was really attached to this women. My wife had rarely seen a family with such gentleness, such sweetness and such love for one another.

As the family was making their final preparations my wife asked if they would like to see a Chaplain. A family member of the dying woman quickly responded by saying, No. They have never been religious and she has no need for God. My wife was heartbroken (as anyone who believes in the possibilities of rich relationships with God would be). It was already hard enough for her to say good-bye to such a sweet woman.

As my wife's shift was about to end each of the family members wanted a hug from their favorite nurse. Finally the patient asked if she wasn't going to get a hug too. Her nurse walked over to the outstretched arms to say good-bye...to say I love you...and to kiss her cheek. The patient also expressed her love to the nurse she had come to know as "cold hands." She died soon after.

Often times my wife gets to pray with her patients or to let them know of her care by saying little things to remind them of God's love. This time she chose not to even offer a "God bless you." She felt like that would have been disrespectful and unloving. It was important to honor this patient as she was dying--even, if not especially, her choice to not know God. It is only then that my wife could truly be with her patient as she died.

Sometimes, as Christians, we are never truly with our friends. For many Evangelicals, relationships with those who do not believe are contrived so that they may know God. What happens when knowing God is not desired by our friends? Is there room for respect in our love? Or do we love only to make converts?

I have been with Christians (and I once may have been one myself) who are so focused on helping others know God that they overlook the good that is in their friend regardless of whether they ever choose to know God. Does the gospel of God's kingdom have relevance apart from making converts or giving people the 'right' answers? What might that be?

If only we, as Christians, could answer that question we might be in a better place to enter into dialogue with our society. We may even be in a better place to find the goodness of God in our friends, in our art, in our culture and in the love of a dying patient.

The Art of Possibility

2005-08-02T09:58:00.000-07:00

The Art of Possibility is a book that I will be reading. I know that I promised to return to "a place to muse" today to share a little about b2g. I just spent the weekend in North Carolina with a group of other people from across the nation to dialogue about b2g. I am still processing. It is good. I am really tired (that is what happens to introverts at these types of things). It is freeing. And it is not the 'next greatest thing.' I will have to explain that later. While I process I will leave you with a poem by Emily Dickinson:

I dwell in Possibility--
A fairer House than Prose--
More numerous of Windows--
Superior--for Doors--

Of Chambers as the Cedars--
Impregnable of Eye--
And for an Everlasting Roof--
The Gambrels of the Sky--

Of Visitors--the fairest--
For Occupation--This--
The spreading wide my narrow Hands--
To gather Paradise--

We will see what comes next.

Gone Fishing

2005-07-28T07:05:00.000-07:00

I am not really fishing...I am on a secret mission. All I can say is...b2g. More on that when I return to the blogoshpere next Tuesday.

While I am away from "a place to muse" I am sure that you will want to catch up on your reading. Just in case, I have included some links to my favorite posts thus far. This is a series on The Beauty of God that didn't receive many comments but is worthy of dialogue. Check it out again here, here, here, here, here, and here. It goes in order and works well as a series so you may want to start with the first one--however, you can skip around if you want (this is the WWW after all).

Talk to you later,

b-nut

Give Bo a Band

2005-07-27T08:00:00.000-07:00

I have heard many complain about the state of our television programing these days. Where have all the writers gone? and what used to be on T.V. before reality took over? I honestly can't remember. Now that Everyone Loves Raymond is off the air what is next? It is a free for all...almost.

I am afraid that reality T.V. is here to stay. It is cheap, low-risk profit. A network can work an audience into a frenzy of disciplined T.V. watching without having to worry about keeping them for the long haul. Even if a reality T.V. show crashes and burns there is little loss for a network--in three months they just start a better one.

You might be saying to your computer right now that I am wrong. Reality TV is an uncreative waste of time. There are too many people that complain about it. You might be right. But show me one complainer that isn't also a watcher.

While one might curse the Nanny on Tuesday they are watching Mister Mom on Wednesday...or Trading Spouses, Big Brother, Cheaters, INXS, American Idol, The Bachelor, I Want to Be a Hilton, The Simple Life, Average Joe: The Joe Strikes Back, Brat Camp, The Cut, So You Think You Can Dance, Extreme Makeover: Whatever Edition, Hooking Up, Fear Factor, Survivor, Blue Collar TV, Extreme Fakeovers, Hell's Kitchen, Blind Date, and ?!?!?!

There have been 102 reality TV series aired on just the four major network stations, FOX, CBS, ABC, and NBC--102. That doesn't begin to count cable. What is the message here? What does this say about the watchers--about our culture?

Well...today I am going to come clean. I am a reality TV show complainer. And we already know what that means. That's right. I am a watcher.

I have wasted a lot of time watching American Idol and now I watch Rock Star: INXS. I have a thing for music I guess. INXS starts where American Idol should end--after they have the final 15 singers. Of course you know--since I just complained about it--that I watch American Idol all the way to the end. Bo Bice was my man. It is too bad that I probably won't like any of the pop songs that they will make him sing.

He should have waited to try out to be INXS's next lead singer--not that I like INXS. But then he could rock. "Give Bo a Band" should be the motto of any decent reality TV complainer. The fact that Bo has to sign a contract with American Idol has to be the greatest tragedy of reality TV this past year. He should never be forced to join the ranks of Kelly Clarkson, Carrie Underwood, Ruben Studdard, and that other guy. Give Bo a Band.

That being said, I have a prediction for you. Jordis Unga from St. Paul, MN will be in the final four at the end of the INXS season. She is the youngest contestant and one of the best. If she is lucky she will make it to the final two and then get kicked of the show so that she can start a real career with a real band. If she is unlucky then she will win. Take it from a faithful complainer.

You can watch Rock Star: INXS on Monday night, Tuesday night, and Wednesday night. You can also get a recap on the weekends.

"Give Bo a Band!"

I am not a Toolman, but I may be a Tool

2005-07-26T07:30:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I helped a friend with a large home improvement project and it occurred to me that I am not a Toolman, but I may be a Tool.

Tool: (def) instrument: the means whereby some act is accomplished. I don't know much about these. Toolmen use these.

Tool: (def) creature: a person who is controlled by others and is used to perform unpleasant or dishonest tasks for someone else. This sounds more familiar. In Basic Training, at least, this is what my Drill Sergeant called me.

I used to be bigger, stronger, and maybe even better looking when naked than my friend, Dave. This, however, has changed. Dave is a Toolman. Toolmen, with a proper diet of course, get to be better looking in the nude than non-Toolmen. I am sure that this is the case with Dave and myself (although we haven't had a proper 'flex-off' in years).

A good reason for this is that the tools used by Toolmen tend to be heavy. Additionally, using tools tends to be physically exhausting. Proof of this can be seen in the machines built to help Toolmen. They are impressive. They are big. Some of them can lift houses and crush cars. I have seen them. Even the clothes Toolmen have to wear are strong--like steeled toed boots. When I work I wear sandals--without socks.

Even as I write this my wife tells me that I am haunching over. Toolmen don't haunch over when they sit down. They have good posture. It now occurs to me that the Apple Fritter that I am eating probably doesn't help my posture either. Dave drinks PowerAde. I have no use for such drinks. It is strictly coffee for me. I don't even drink water. Whereas Toolmen have beer to end a hot day of hard work, I just have beer.

I was explaining this very fact to my wife when I leaned on our kitchen counter and it moved an inch. It has been falling away from the wall at a consistent rate for the last three years. My wife reminds me that it is getting worse and I agree with her. There is definitely something wrong. The drawers don't even close correctly anymore. I suspect that someday it will just finish its slow but steady fall all at once...with a big bang. I suspect that that will probably scare the dog.

Our toilet handle fell off one day...you know, the flusher knob. For two months I stuck my hand into the water tank and flushed it manually. Figuring out how to do that was a stroke of genius. My friend, Ben, told me that it would only take 3 minutes to change the knob. I protested that he did not know me. I asked about the glue and the chains and the tools. He shook his head. He said I didn't need those things. He is a Toolman so I trusted him. He was right. It took me 3 minutes to put in the wrong knob.

This is why I am not a Toolman. Even when I can do something right it is not right. That means that I have to drive all the way back to the Toolman shop and explain to some professional Toolman that I am an idiot. They always smile at me like I am a woman who is pretending to be a man...or like I am Will from Will and Grace. Speaking of women...

Dave's wife, Jill, is more of a Toolman than I am. This is particularly disturbing, not that women cannot be Toolmen or that there are not Toolwomen, but because Jill works long hours at a challenging job and is getting another degree. She is a better Toolman than I am and she does it in her spare time--which is very little. My whole life is spare time.

My wife and I once had a room that was completely dark. It was dark for over a month. I couldn't figure out which light bulbs to get. No, I am not a Toolman, but I just may be a Tool.

My First Trip to Hooters

2005-07-25T08:50:00.000-07:00

Ever since I fractured my skull playing softball almost 8 weeks ago I have been wrestling with insomnia. I don't fall asleep until 3am some nights--that is five hours after taking Tylenol PM. Two nights ago (Friday) I only got about 4 hours of sleep before my day began on Saturday. I was exhausted midway through a day of babysitting and manual labor. I turned to my wife and said, "I want you to treat me right tonight." She did.

I got home, took a shower and we were off. As we were walking through the Mall of America to get tickets for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory my wife stopped at Hooters to get a table. I was to get tickets and come back to join her. I have never been to Hooters.

I had been on staff with a non profit collegiate ministry for 5 years. I am a seminary student. My major financial supporters were Evangelical churches and individuals--a large part of whom are from the Bible Belt. One does not spend their money (or anybody else's) to eat at Hooters. Hooters is the place that I pretended not to be interested in when driving by with Christian friends. The only 'worthy' reason to enter Hooters for an Evangelical minister with fundamentalist financial backing is to respond to an emergency call about a waitress who is having a crisis of faith and wants to be 'saved' immediately. Even then you would send in a woman...or wait until her shift was over and she had changed clothes.

I came back with the tickets to look for my wife who had already taken a seat. This presented me with a problem. My wife was in there looking for me. That meant that I had to be very careful where I was looking. I decided that my best option was to keep my head in constant motion back and forth--never down. Just as I entered a large cluster of Hooters girls formed to my right--singing some sort of song for some guy with a bucket on his head and a wiener in his mouth. I decided a worthy husband who is being watched by his wife would turn left. I made two laps around the restaurant--people were starting to recognize me as the guy who had past their table before. I was getting desperate for a hand to shoot up in my field of vision and direct me to my seat. At the end of my second lap the cloister of Hooters girls--that I wasn't looking at--dispersed to reveal my wife sitting at a table right in the middle of all the girls.

I was a little fidgety at first. My wife was too and that made it worse. I knew she would be watching me. I was beginning to wonder if she had set me up for a bad night. She was watching me when our cute waitress bent down to put her arms on the table--directly in front of me. There are four sides to our table and she chose that one. I didn't mind of course. She turned her elbows in just enough to squish her boobs together. If I looked at her face I looked at her boobs--and my wife looked at me. She asked me what I wanted to drink. I said water like a sheepish teenager. My wife made sure I knew that she was wearing Victoria's Secret finest push up bra. I took her word for it.

Speaking of Victoria's Secret...that is another one of those places that I have pretended not to be interested in--especially when walking by with my wife. I like to sit a short distance away from VS and watch men walk by with their wives. That is entertaining!

For centuries (I am sure) Christianity and women have conspired against men. They have conspired to make men think that the shame they begin to feel when passing VS or Hooters is from a source even more spiritual than religion or women. It is God himself who is stirring up my conscience and this is why I feel shame. I feel shame because of my sinful self. My wife and church have nothing to do with it. And what man will dare to say different. That is a sure way to get sent to some Bible Study, counseling or 'accountability group'--maybe even to Promise Keepers. It is better to play along.

Of course, after trying so hard all day--like a good Christian husband--not to be captivated, not to appreciate, not to be awed by any woman that I see, I am supposed to become the lover from Song of Songs by night. No wonder men die young. I digress...

My wife and I had a good time at Hooters. While there are certainly things there that are not beautiful--like the goggling 50-year-olds that have their 10-year-olds sitting next to them and like the potential that there are women there who feel belittled and insecure concerning their own bodies--there are also good things there--New Castle on tap, cute girls that pretend to like me, and buffalo wings.

The best thing that happened while I was there was being able to look in to my waitress's...eyes--and see that she was human. Before I broke that barrier all that I had to go on was my lesson from Christianity that these women were objects. They were objects not to be looked at. I now know differently. My wife's gift to me was this: I am beginning to learn how to not be controlled by shame but by my own free choices. It turns out my wife did treat me right after all.

Our future choices may very well bring us back to Hooters to try those wings again. It is hard to make rules about these things without ending right back where we started--guided by shame rather than wisdom.

License to Operate

2005-07-22T07:10:00.000-07:00

Is it bad when my computer says that it is beginning a physical dump of memory? or when it asks me if I want to start windows normally? or when it begins a disk check of drive C upon a normal start up? or when it takes 30-45 minutes and 10-15 attempts for it to start up normally? Which of these seems to be the worst new feature of my laptop?

This was bound to happen. Giving me a computer is like giving a ten year old two phone books and the keys to a new car. They should make us take some sort of class before we are allowed to transition from pen and ink to software and hard drives. I suspect that one of the first things that they would tell you in such a class would be not to purchase a Gateway computer. The second might be to get a Mac. The third might be to run anti-virus software. Who knew?

I sure don't. I have yet to mention that my USB ports, speakers and CD rewrite drive have all stopped working. I still have a warranty, but that involves sending Gateway my computer...what a hassle. I'd give my two phone books and keys back if I wasn't so hooked on this blogging thing...and had to get news on the Chi-town Cubbies...write papers...email...

Worship as Propaganda?

2005-07-21T08:29:00.000-07:00

Over the past two days I have been exploring a dialogue on worship from Pat’s blog (here and here). It all started with this article by S.M. Hutchens which compares today’s worship with lying. If you have some time you might want to read it. The author draws some distinctions between ‘God-centered’ songs and songs that contain a lot of personal pronouns in them. He claims that we have sacrificed good theology in music for personally emotive lyrics. Consequently we compromise our theology and falsify our hearts when we sing—essentially, we lie.

While there are some good points that are made in this article, I agree with Pat that the problem isn’t about personal pronouns. I admit that I do not know much about worship. I do have former roommates and friends that are or have been worship leaders. I will have to ask them what their thoughts are some time.

Hutchens draws fairly extensive conclusions about the future of Evangelicalism that may or may not be warranted. However, I don’t know if I could have been as nice as he was when speaking of many Evangelical worship services. I haven’t gone for a long time, but when I do, I usually do not participate in the singing. It often feels like propaganda—an effort to construe hearts and minds to be in a certain place. If I am honest with myself (about my theology and about what I actually feel and what I am supposed to be singing) I usually cannot sing. That being said, I don’t mind not participating. It is a peaceful time for me if others don’t mind me sitting down and thinking instead of standing up and singing.

What bothers me is often how these worship songs are used. They are often sung in ways that are disconnected from their setting--from their stories. Consequently, I have to manufacture a story for the song to be true. I may have to pretend that I am distressed or that my heart is somehow untrue for example--it depends on the song. This might be easier on some days than it is on others.

The Psalms and other songs sung in Israel were tools of a community for remembering certain stories. This is often very different than how we use worship. Rather than being united and guided with a strong and true story we are often encouraged to manufacture our own context for which the song can take meaning.

In fact, it is sad, but I have been in some worship services where pastors depend upon worship being disconnected from a true story so that they can manipulate our own. For instance, if the sermon is on the importance of confession than all the worship will be about how miserable that I am. I am convinced that some pastors secretly hope that I will manufacture some story from my life that fits the tone of the music so that I will be ripe for the message. This effort of the pastors may or may not work--but I think that it is propaganda.

Pat (in his blog) rightly connects the Psalms with their stories and provides us with the storied context for one of his own songs that he wrote. I just wish that that was a more common practice in worship--that our communities could remember together rather than be contrived together.

This brings me to another issue…how songs are written. It is important to recognize that the Psalms were not written as merely a personal tool, but as a corporate tool. They were community reminders (of stories) for a specific community. Today’s music is too often not written for a specific community. They are detached from any known story. They tend to be written for individuals or for the general community of Mr. and Mrs. Christian.

While I don’t want to completely disregard this practice. I would like to see more communities writing songs that are attached to their story of relationships…about this church split or a death that affected their community or about the success of a building fund—these are the stories that will make worship special and a community more in touch with their God and with one another. I think that this is a primary purpose of singing worship.

I think that my own group of friends should write a song about how they all came to my aid when I fractured my skull—they visited me in the hospital, they mowed my lawn and made me food. If we sang about this we would be remembering our service to one another and reminding ourselves of its importance in our story together. Our new friends would then learn our stories.

Similarly, the hymn It Is Well With My Soul first gained meaning for me when I discovered its story. You can read a version of that story here.

The Bible is not a Fortune Cookie

2005-07-20T07:00:00.000-07:00

Today's post is rather revealing of a former self. It is a snapshot of someone who was trying to find a place among contemporary Evangelical faith and practice. What follows is from a journal entry that marks the last time that I have read my Bible (or have written in a journal for that matter). It is from over a year ago.

Ok...Some of you know that I have picked it up since...but usually as a reference or with other people. This is not a crisis of faith. It is a re-organizing, a re-understanding, a re-practicing. More on that later. I believe that this post reveals a common hermeneutic in today's Evangelical community. It is one that I had fallen victim to...

From April 16, 2004 (after reading the Bible)

As I started reading I realized that what I was reading had nothing to say about what was on my heart. It had nothing to say about what I was praying about. I was immediately disappointed and frustrated. Then I realized that I was using the Bible as my own personal fortune cookie. I have a long habit of opening Scripture and wanting it to comment on my current emotional/physical/mental/spiritual situation. This rarely happens. If it does happen it is often probably because I construed it to happen.

The Bible has immensely important things to say about my life; however, God is not a fortune teller and the Holy Spirit is not an Asian delivery man. Maybe I need to eliminate from my life these so called 'quiet times.' I have trouble separating the fortune cookie tendency from the trendy Christian idea of having regular quiet times with God. I feel like what I am writing here is touching on something that has been a hindrance in my life for years. I can study scripture for what it is rather than try to make it into something that it is not--a personal commentary on my life situation.

I have been told that I must not approach Scripture too academically because that may leave my heart cold and unaffected. Well, I feel like my heart is often cold and unaffected. This is because I cannot seem to relate Scripture to my life in the ways that I have been attempting--I often come away disappointed and frustrated with a hidden feeling that it is somehow my fault. Well, it probably was and today, for the first time, I may know why. The Bible is not a fortune cookie.

Wish you were Hitler

2005-07-19T06:49:00.000-07:00

I spent a year on a deployment with the Army to Kosovo. In fact, a year ago I was training in my replacement. Kosovars idolize Bill Clinton--literally. There are streets and athletic buildings named after him. Clinton sent in the bombs that ended the war and mutual extermination of Serbs and Albanians from Kosovo. He did this without U.N. approval.

While we were in Kosovo the greatest violence since the war broke out in the March riots of 2004. Serbian churches were destroyed and Serbs were forced from their homes during the riots. Part of our job after the riots were under control was to assess the damage. During this time I was involved in driving a Serbian family back to their Albanian neighborhood to reclaim their damaged home. He had been severely beaten by a crowd of Albanians before being rescued by U.S. soldiers. Another time I went with one of our highest ranking officers to check on the rebuilding process for a family whose home was completely destroyed during the riots.

To the right there is a picture of the ensuing conversation. It is admittedly a poor picture and you can just barely see the two Serbian men that we were talking to. Two of the 'soldiers' with us in this picture are actually local translators. You can see some of the rebuilding occurring to the left. The Serbian men are upset and are scolding us--they are especially upset with our commander.

They are upset that their home is not being rebuilt exactly like it was before the riots. They say that they wish Hitler was in control rather than us. They were reminiscing of a time when he was in control. Things were different then. Things were safer. This is probably true.

Hitler made things safe--for Serbians living in this area. He exercised more control than the U.S. policy in Kosovo would allow. The UN was attempting to help Albanians and Serbians work together to solve their own problems. They are not interested in controlling them like Hitler did. This, however, leaves plenty of room for conflict--something that these Serbians were understandably not happy about. If we were Hitler their home may not have been destroyed.

The Inferno

2005-07-18T09:23:00.000-07:00

Well, in the short life of this blog, poetry and art have not drawn a significant number of comments--about zero. Theology seems to hit or miss and movies generally draw a reliable response. Of course everyone wants to hear about the Chicago Cubs (who have won 6 out of their last 7). That being said, I am well aware that many of you read without ever commenting--like my family--so judging what to write about by counting comments is perhaps as reliable as a good voter exit poll.

Anyways, I thought I would try poetry again--not mine of course. Dante. I want to share this fraction of a poem because it has some personal value. My life experience has prompted my mind to often reflect upon the opening lines to The Inferno. In fact, I have started reading the entire poem many different times only to get as far as these few lines...from a translation by Robert Pinsky:

Midway on our life's journey, I found myself
In dark woods, the right road lost. To tell
About those woods is hard--so tangled and rough

And savage that thinking of it now, I feel
The old fear stirring: death is hardly more bitter.
And yet, to treat the good I found there as well

I'll tell what I saw, though how I came to enter
I cannot well say, being so full of sleep
Whatever moment it was I began to blunder

Off the true path.

I usually do not like to be the first to comment on art--I don't like to dominate interpretive views. But since this is poetry and I might be the only one commenting, I will share some of why I found it to be meaningful to me.

This part of The Inferno became potent for me when I was battling an intense depression a few years ago. The depression was largely my fault--I burned myself out with my life style. However, I thought that I was doing good...doing 'God's will' even. Needless to say, depression was like a dark wood. I had no idea how I got there at the time and as I started getting better years later I was fearful that I would somehow find my way back there.

Like Dante's traveler I could not say much about how I happened into the dark wood, but I could also find some good there. I am continuing to become a new person--not necessarily better--definitely different. It has been 5 years since Dante and my depression happened upon me, but there have been many other occasions to reflect upon The Inferno's first lines as well.

Maybe now I can get to the rest of the poem...

Chocolat

2005-07-15T06:06:00.000-07:00

For a study break yesterday I watched Chocolat again with my wife. This movie easily rates as one of my favorites--five beers for sure. I will not review the movie today, although I would like to--I have to finish this paper I am working on instead. I was surprised to discover so many of the themes that I have been writing about lately emerge from this movie. I will leave you with the concluding homily given on Easter morning by a young priest who is learning about ministry and life. Here it is:

I am not sure what the theme of my homily today ought to be. Do I want to speak of the miracle of our Lord's divine transformation? Not really, no. I don't want to talk about his divinity. I'd rather talk about his humanity. I mean, how he lived his life here on earth--his kindness, his tolerance. Listen, here is what I think. I think that we can't go around measuring our goodness by what we don't do, by what we deny ourselves, what we resist and who we exclude. I think that we have got to measure goodness by what we embrace, what we create and who we include.

I am sure that this homily, read by itself, causes apprehension in many believers. There seems to be an allowance for too much freedom here. There are not enough boundaries given to control behavior. If behavior is not managed a little more closely than what is to ensure the continued faith of those who follow Jesus?

Is it possible that we put more emphasis on Jesus' divinity because it is easier to control behavior with a model of holiness that appears to be so clearly distinct from the pleasures of our everyday life? It becomes messier when we have to explain Jesus' human actions. How do we regulate when someone is supposed to hang out with prostitutes and when they are not; when they are to give more wine to likely drunk wedding partiers and when they are not, when they are to waste a years wages on a perfume bath and when they are not; when they are to eat with 'sinners' and when they are not. Worse yet, how do we control the manner in which they do these things...the methods? Can we live out of control and really give people freedom to embrace, create and include like this priest urges his congregation? Or is it too dangerous?

Perhaps I am being too abstract and we all need to watch Chocolat together. Chocolat is about a town that has to answer these questions. It is an atheist who ultimately has something of value to share with the Christian...at least with those who are willing to receive the gift. Well, now I have gone too far and started a review...

Rethinking Holiness

2005-07-14T07:54:00.000-07:00

A while ago I had to write a summary of a chapter from Michael Downey's book, Altogether Gift A Trinitarian Spirituality. The chapter is called Living Freely from the Gift: The Grammar of Spiritual Life. I know many of you are considering reading no further. However, I have been surprised at how often my thoughts have gone back to this article. Downey encourages us to rethink a more Trinitarian approach to holiness. See what you think.

Downey argues that understanding the Trinity helps us to live freely in and from the gift. In order to demonstrate this he attempts to compare and contrast previous understandings of the Trinity with this newer approach to the Trinity. For example, in the grammar of holiness God is often viewed as wholly different and separate; this is juxtaposed to a God who is seen as not far off, aloof and a self-subsistent self, but as one who has manifested himself in us as only a self-donating, self giving being can. Our task then is not in imaging a distant type of holiness, but a holiness of one who lives amidst us (the Holy Spirit) and embraces human reality (as Jesus did). Similarly, vocations that have traditionally been 'set apart' (i.e. monks, missionaries, or from sexual relations like priests) have been given a higher regard in Christian circles. The fact that Jesus came into humanity's midst and the Holy Spirit lives within a believer authenticates a variety of life forms. One can have a spiritual connection with God by appreciating one's life as a gift. Vocation consequently is a way of presencing Christ and the Spirit in a particular manner, rather than a puzzle to painstakingly figure out by searching for some abstract notion of God's will. Likewise, the eminence of Christ in the world and the Holy Spirit in human lives has not produced the same asceticism (or discipline by which one conforms to Christ) applicable to the laity and daily tasks like caring for children, complex decisions, struggles for subsistence and the uncertainties of agrarian life that traditional views of God have inspired for abstinence, sexual purity and the office of the clergy. While Downey goes on for a large part of the chapter drawing similar conclusions in the grammar of discernment, healing, social responsibility, prayer, contemplation, and mysticism he ultimately concludes that everything is related to everything else, "created in the image of a God who exists in the relations of interpersonal love." And everything is given as a gift. In this perspective nothing escapes value and importance in view of the presence of Christ in the world and the Spirit in humans. I leave you with his last paragraph:

The various disciplines of the Christian spiritual life are simply the means by which we seek to participate, more contemplatively, in the mystery of three in one Love. The various terms that have formed the nomenclature of spiritual life--holiness, vocation, asceticism, discernment, healing and wholeness, social responsibility, prayer, contemplation and action, mysticism--all bespeak the truth that learning to receive is a lifelong process, never an entirely accomplished fact. The Christian spiritual life entails the ongoing, rigorous discipline of receptivity, of cultivating, nurturing, and sustaining a grateful heart for what is. All is gift, ours to receive, even that which awaits us at the end of the one and only life we have to live--which is given as a gift.

Driving a Lamborghini

2005-07-13T04:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was having a bad day...until Adam called me. We sat in my house drinking New Castle and watching the NL loose the All-Star game while catching up on each others lives. Catching up on each others lives inevitably means talking theology.

This may sound strange, but I hope heaven is the place of endless theological discussion. Most people seem to think that we won't have any more theological questions in heaven. I hope that is not the case. If theology is about facts and figures and rules then maybe that will be the case. I think, however, that theology is about relationships. If theology is about relationships that are not very shallow then heaven will contain endless mystery significant enough to my well being that I will have to keep dialoguing about it.

As it is, when I think about deep things I feel connected to God. I feel as if I am discovering my life as if it were a gift. I used to think that I created my life--that life was mine for the making. I think more often now about discovering my life. After all, I had very little to do with many of the stories that form my life: my parents, my country, my culture, being post-modern and being right handed for example.

Thanks, Adam, for a refreshing end to a bad day. And thanks to all of you who have endured theological discussions with me as I meander through the complexities of abstract thoughts. I rarely come to conclusions and often leave my dialogue partners worn out as I try. For me, it is not so much about coming to profound conclusions; it is about the process of trying. I imagine that it is like driving a Lamborghini for the first time--who cares where you end up, the beach, the mountains...Iowa. It is the drive that will tell you about the maker.

That being said, I imagine that someone who drives through the mountains will know things about the maker that someone driving through Iowa may never discover (not to leave Iowa out...I am sure that works the other way around too).

Casey at the Bat

2005-07-12T04:00:00.000-07:00

In honor of the All-Star Game tonight here is an oldie and a goodie. On June 3, 1888 Ernest Lawrence Thayer published his now famous poem, Casey at the Bat, under his alias, 'Phin.' One Hundred and Seventeen years later: here is his poem as originally published in The Examiner.

Casey at the Bat

The Outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play.
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, if only Casey could get but a whack at that-
We'd put up even money, now, with Casey at the bat.

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a lulu and the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey's getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despis-ed, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and the men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile on Casey's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand toungues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped-
"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one," the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;
And its likely they's a-killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two."

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in theis favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville--mighty Casey has struck out.

I Believe!

2005-07-11T08:03:00.000-07:00

It doesn't take much for a Cubs fan to revive their spirits. Call it blind faith. Call it superstition. Call it a blue "I believe" bracelet. Call it Old Style beer. Call it what you want, but the Cubs are turning things around.

Since my commitment not to check the Cubs website or to follow any news from the team nothing but good has happened. Derrek Lee has returned to the lineup and has raised his already league leading batting average and has tied the league lead in home runs. Nomar Garciaparra (arguably one of the best batters in the league and was leading the all star voting for a while even though he had only played 14 games early this season) is set to return from a 'season ending' injury on August 1st.

Better yet: the North Siders have won three straight since my decision to forego checking in on them every day. This only feeds my superstitious side. I hope that I did not make a mistake by checking in on them today...I will see how it goes. But now that we know that I am in control of their season I can revert to not following them at any moment so that they may continue their success.

Until then I will enjoy watching Lee and Ramirez suit up for the All-Star Game.

God, Medicine and Suffering

2005-07-09T10:39:00.000-07:00

Stanley Hauerwas first published Naming the Silences: God, Medicine and the Problem of Suffering in 1990. This book was republished in 2000 as God, Medicine and Suffering. Below is an unfairly brief summary of some of its key points.

Hauerwas addresses the objectified questions of theodicy. A theodicy usually revolves around attempting to answer the dilemma of how evil can exist despite the existence of an all powerful and completely good God. Some construe the book of Job to be such a theodicy. Another theodicy might be the Free-Will Defense which usually originates evil in the necessary free decisions of humanity thereby absolving God of responsibility. There are many more of these objective attempts at theodicy. Hauerwas, I think rightly, appears to be exasperated by these attempts. He states:

The question “Why does evil exist?” is asked as if it makes sense from anyone’s perspective. But we are not “anyone”; we are people who exist at this point in time, with this particular set of convictions, in relation to these friends and this community, and who have these particular hopes and desires. Only within such a context does the question of suffering become serious. We are, quite rightly, not interested in the theoretical issue of suffering and evil; rather, we are torn apart by what is happening to real people, to those we know and love. (2)

Rather than using theodicy as a tool to objectify suffering Hauerwas suggests that “our only hope lies in whether we can place alongside the story of the pointless suffering of a child…a story of suffering that helps us know that we are not thereby abandoned” (34). Consequently, it is the community of the sufferer and their narrative together that takes an increased role. For a Christian believer these narratives are closely wrapped up in the narrative of God and the new communal life he makes available in his kingdom. In fact, Hawerwas argues that for early believers suffering didn’t elicit questions of God’s existence or goodness, but rather, it elicited questions of practical response. Likewise, the laments of the psalmists were community protests against the pointlessness of suffering—they were practical tools of a community within the narrative of God. Hauerwas suggests that the concept that Christian beliefs are explanatory accounts sufficient to show “the way things are” was developed “when Christianity became a civilizational religion oriented to provide the ethos necessary to sustain an empire. Rather than being a set of convictions about God’s work in Jesus Christ requiring conversion and membership in a community, Christianity became that set of beliefs which explains why the way things are is the way things were meant to be for any right-thinking person, converted or not” (55).

Despite these efforts to show the way things are, Christians have not historically had a ‘solution’ to the problem of evil; “Rather, they have had a community of care that has made it possible for them to absorb the destructive terror of evil that constantly threatens to destroy all human relations” (53).

It is clear that something has gone decisively wrong for Christians when we underwrite the widespread assumption that there is a so-called problem of evil which is intelligible from anyone’s perspective—that is, when we turn the Christian faith into a system of beliefs that can be or is universally known without the conversion of being incorporated within a specific community of people. In effect, it is to underwrite the Enlightenment assumption that we are most fully ourselves when we are free of all traditions and communities other than those we have chosen from the position of complete autonomy (53).

It is this autonomous individuality that often characterizes our approach to medicine. While at one time it was a long death where one could make final preparations that was most desired, today many desire a short death in a car accident or in ones’ sleep. Rather than having an understanding of when to allow life to come to a close we are frightened by it. Consequently, medicine has become a sort of theodicy—an answer to the question of evil. We use medicine to keep people alive or to disguise the fact that we are dying.

I will close this blog entry with a final quote from Hauerwas regarding the pointless death of children struggling with tuberculosis.

I think that childhood suffering bothers us so deeply because we assume that children lack a life story which potentially gives their illness some meaning. In that respect I suspect we often fail to appreciate the richness of their young world as well as their toughness and resilience. But I suspect that what bothers us even more about childhood suffering is that it makes us face our deepest suspicions that all of us lack a life story which would make us capable of responding to illness in a manner that would enable us to go on as individuals, as friends, as parents, and as a community. I suspect that if Christian convictions have any guidance to give us about how we are to understand as well as respond to suffering, it is by helping us discover that our lives are located in God’s narrative—the God who has not abandoned us even when we or someone we care deeply about is ill (67).

North Side Woes

2005-07-08T08:30:00.000-07:00

The North Siders just lost their 8th straight. Their best player, D. Lee, is out with a sore shoulder. They just optioned two of their starting outfielders to triple A. It is July and Mark Prior has never had a winning record in July. And lastly (although I could easily go on), I have decided to stop following their progress--or digress--temporarily. It is not that I am not a fan anymore. It is just two disappointing.

I know. I should be used to this. After all, it is the Cubs. It has been almost 100 years since they have won a world series--the longest drought in baseball. Maybe it is the curse. That possibility makes me a little superstitious. Maybe not following the Cubs will bring good tidings somehow. Anyway, I have got to take a break. A North Sider can endure a lot--more than most sports fans--but this is bringing me down.

I hereby ban myself from the Chicago Cubs website--and from following any web links to news about the team--for at least two days.

'Knee-Deep' Relationships

2005-07-06T10:13:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago my great friend and brother-in-law-in-law (or whatever you call your sister-in-law's husband) wrote a blog about church called, stirring the pot 1. The blog entry 'stirred the pot' because it mused about a Church centered upon relationships rather than on buildings. Often times church buildings provide the space and structures in which to originate and maintain relational connections for Christians. What if this was not the case?

What if Church was only about relationships and had nothing to do with church buildings? What if a common church building did not exist for a group of Christian friends? (we are musing here) What if the things that are held as sacred along with certain faith practices and structures were determined by the depth of distinct relationships rather than the strength of certain denominations? If this was the case (I muse) then relationships would be dependent (even more so) upon their depth with one another for continued fellowship rather than the place at which they meet.

My brother-in-law-in-law referred to this depth of relationship as being 'knee-deep' in each others lives. This is a phenomena that he has never experienced in his Christian life with two possible exceptions. Only two times in his Christian life has he developed relationships with a group of believers that came close to having a knee-deep depth. I imagine knee-deep relationships as equal to volunteering to wade through quick sand. This would not be the same type of quick sand encounter that you see in Western movies--not the kind where earthy vines or horses' reins are dangling within grasp. It is the kind of quick sand encounter that is life giving--one surrenders life as they know it in a knee-deep relationship. Sadly, I think, most believers that I have met (and I would count myself among them) have rarely encountered this type of relationship with another person--much less with a group of people.

I think part of the struggle in being knee-deep in each other's lives is that we own so much private space and the public space that we share is too often sparsely and infrequently populated with each other's company. Even if I would invite someone to be knee-deep in my own life it would be a difficult task for a normally employed and otherwise occupied person to undertake. I think that any solution would have to involve a lifestyle change around shared spaces, public and private.

I began to ponder life-style changes for the sake of these types of relationships a few years back. Dorm life in college often leant itself to knee-deep relationships whether one liked it or not. Likewise, living with a house-hold of bachelors also leant itself in those directions. However, now that I am married more drastic measures are likely needed to make these relationships possible.

This past weekend my wife and I had some good friends from Chicago stay with us. It was a pleasure that we partake in about once or twice a year--each others company I mean. Admittedly we probably refreshed ourselves as well as wore ourselves out (having only 5 hours of sleep on the last night didn't help). It is easy to wear yourself out with people that you love and seldom see. It is impossible to get enough of them in one extended weekend so we cram as much knowing and being known as we can into that short time frame. I do not regret my tiredness at all. Maybe one of these trips we will pace ourselves, but I secretly hope not.

I mention this because I have only a small handful of friendships that I would voluntarily enter into quick sand. Figuring out ways in which to share public space might be the easiest task. My wife and I would choose our jobs, careers, place to raise our kids, homes and subsequent lifestyle around these relationships. I also, however, would permanently give up my private space to my Chicago friends (along with a few others). Yes, I would live in the same small house and share one small bathroom with them indefinately--although, we would have to learn to pace ourselves relationally. Even so, I muse that this would only create a more conducive setting in which we would be knee-deep in each others lives--the rest is up to us.

In this day--I muse--where individuality has taken its toll on our spiritual faith and practices, we need to begin to contemplate how to live knee-deep in our relationships with others. This will undoubtedly require sacrifice. It may even require the trading in of our freedom to do and own what we want for the freedom that comes from a deeper knowing and being known.

4th of July

2005-07-02T06:39:00.000-07:00

Have a good weekend! Next post will be after the 4th.

Beauty of God V

2005-07-01T09:23:00.000-07:00

This Beauty of God topic could really go on for a long time. There is so much more to share and so much more to summarize from the weekend that I spent in Colorado. However, I think that I will bring it to a close today with a personal musing about Andy Goldsworthy's Rivers and Tides.

Rivers and Tides is a documentary which follows Goldsworthy around as he creates his natural art. This is a film that may get some practical-producing type of people all worked up. One may hear this type of people yell, "get a life!" or "come on!?" or "I can't believe his wife lets him get away with this!"--if it were not for the healthy amount of money he makes doing what he does. My wife would generally fit this category of people. They are admittedly the people who actually get things done in life while their spouses sit around typing on blogs.

Goldsworthy essentially plays all day long in an effort to find meaning in nature. He plays in the mud, on the beach, in trees and in rivers. One moment from the film that has implanted its self into my memory is a time where he sets out early in the morning to build one of these egg or seed shaped rock formations for which he is well known. He uses a flat rock on the beach and attempts to finish before the tide comes in--it is a race against the clock. I was amazed as he slowly deliberates over each rock before setting it upon the others. My wife and I both were disappointed when the rocks shifted after a considerable amount of time and the structure fell over--four times. Each time the viewer could see the agony on Goldsworthy's face as he would look back at the quickly approaching tide and let out long sighs with his hands on his knees. He even contemplated giving up for the day. This was until, bent over on his hands and knees in front of yet another pile of stone, he realized out loud that each time he learned a little more about the rock with which he was working--and after all, that is what it is all about.

This is about the time that the practical people are befuddled by Goldsworthy and want to shake into him the idea that life is not about understanding how these beach rocks fit into an egg-shaped thing that will be swallowed up by the tide. I want to pause a moment to say that I have learned something substantial from this. I thought that this moment on the beach was about the egg-shaped thing, about the finished product, but it was about the rocks as well--even if the egg-shaped thing never came to be that day... I think that I have been in a rush much of my life to produce something...so much so that I haven't found meaning in the process regardless of the outcome.

There is a picture in this documentary of a man who seems to understand (maybe not in theological terms) that his life is a gift. Art is his nourishment and the land is its source. He gives himself to what nourishes him. One may look at his work process as impractical, as an overindulgence or as child's play (this impression wasn't far from even my own mind), but I now see it as an answer to the question of "why live." I, on the other hand, am pretty much out of touch with myself. I have not taken the time since I was a child to discover what it is that nourishes me--that makes me feel really alive.

In my own journey with life I have been told that being spiritual was how I would find nourishment. After all, it was said that mankind does not live on bread alone, but on the very words of God. And since much of our Christian practice maintains a definition of spiritual holiness as something other that what is human--something set apart and distinct--I have spent much of my life attempting to be something that I am not. I learned to see my childhood indulging as selfish. Doing what I wanted to do with my life was out of the question to many degrees--especially in an Evangelical ministry setting. To admit that Metallica's music did more for nourishing my life than did singing worship songs in church was an absurdity.

I failed to realize that I did not have to do something other than be what I was in order to do something spiritual. I was inherently spiritual. The things that captured me as a child were clues to what would nourish me as an adult--they are my own spiritual connection with God as I grow to acknowledge my life as a gift. It is partly in the process of this acknowledgement, rather than solely in the products of life, that I can say, 'Amen,' to Goldsworthy--that is what it is all about.

I could write for a long time about many of the things that I took away from this movie, but this discussion brings me full circle to answer some of the questions that I set out in my original Beauty of God post. I am satisfied with that.

Beauty of God IV

2005-06-30T00:00:00.000-07:00

Continued from Beauty of God III...

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Unfortunately, Fujimura may rightly suggest that Christians have largely abandoned these dialogues during the 20th century. The Church, by not having a vision for engaging what is unique about this atomic age, has left the culture (and original artwork) to those who do not know Christ. Fujimura encourages the Church to become a creative force in these cultural dialogues by blessing their children to go into the world to become the next Spielberg or Picasso. He dreams that the secular world can see the Church as a place where creativity flows—a place where they could find a safe haven in which to hone their own skills and ask deep questions. However, it is a difficult task for the Church—which wants to create a safety zone for themselves apart from the world—to be open to the possibilities that these outside forces may disturb the peace. Creative types often have all sorts of uncomfortable things to say about many topics, including the Church. Fujimura reminds Christians, however, that Paul urges the Corinthians not to separate themselves from the world, but to engage with the world. Fujimura, himself, sees visiting artists as an opportunity to listen and understand that they are bringing a wealth of information that the Church can tap into, learn from and communicate the gospel back. It is sadly ironic that Christian parents want their children to grow in fullness and in likeness with Christ—essentially asking that they be made into enormously creative creatures, that they move outside of their boxes and into the world—yet tell them, ‘no…that’s dangerous’ when they are ready to do that. Consequently, the Church often exiles their own children to other communities, like the gay community, that embrace their creativity. Fujimura declares that as the atomic-age world becomes increasingly dangerous, full of pockets of evil—the very place the Church’s children need to go—that God is already present waiting to reveal what it means to be a Christian in this time. Though the Church may have left the arts, God never did.

In conclusion, Fujimura suggests that the mission of the Church is not just to enter into the world and change it, but to embrace a deeper connection with God. The Church’s goal is not to make the world become more like Christians but for Christians to become more like Christ. For Fujimura truth and beauty go hand in hand because beauty is not merely cosmetic. True beauty is not a beauty of the surface, but rather, it is what goes beneath everything and actually is Christ holding the world together. God has ordained artists to speak to these things—the things that matter most: artists speak to the question of “why live today?” Fujimura’s answer to this question is to paint—to allow what is inside of him to come out.

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This concludes my summary of the interview with Makoto Fujimura. Tomorrow I will conclude this particular segment on the beauty of God by musing about Andy Goldsworthy's documentary, Rivers and Tides.

Beauty of God III

2005-06-29T07:05:00.000-07:00

continued from Beauty of God II...

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How is it possible to discover God in art from secular arenas or in abstract or impressionistic art? Fujimura does not address this question directly, but he does subtly suggest that we may not be able to discover beauty or a relationship with God through much of art if our concept of art is a didactic or an answer giving mechanism. Fujimura states that good art is a question mark. Fujimura may rightly suggest that many Christians tend to attempt to look beyond or cover over the suffering of the world. Artists, on the other hand are comfortable with suffering and are not afraid to look into a troubled world—a quest that raises more questions than answers both for the believer and the non-believer. Fujimura sees that God defined beauty for us in the life of Christ—a life rich in suffering. In the atomic age—an age where human ability to inflict suffering on a massive and instantaneous scale has been realized—artists grapple freshly with questions of identity, meaning and purpose. It is these questions that, once one learns to read art, can prompt a redeeming dialogue—a dialogue that the Church can also learn from and be stretched by as well as offer redemptive answers. Consequently, Fujimura says that the Church needs non-believing artists to learn and grow from. Fujimura prompts Christians to see stories of life as parables and to learn to see those parables in art. What are these parables revealing?

Many parables that can be found in 20th century, atomic age, art reveal an honest dialogue with the question of “Why live?” However, there are many parables with many themes. Fujimura credits Vincent Van Gogh with starting a parable that began to appear in the life of many artists. This parable is that of the church as old and dilapidated, painted with a sense of isolation. It is a parable of God’s spirit leaving the church and going into creativity and nature. One can imagine how the church could grow from entering into a dialogue with Van Gogh’s observations. Likewise, Fujimura suggests that a parable can be discovered in Picasso’s art. He notices that as Picasso painted many self portraits that they increasingly became profoundly empty, sad and a shell of himself. Christians can interact with this parable by seeing that when one focuses so intently upon themselves that they actually lose themselves. It is becoming increasingly important to learn how to dialogue with artists because it is the artists who have the language of our culture as advertisers, filmmakers, writers, musicians, etc. However, Fujimura states that Christians have not been able to understand how to negotiate a dialogue with the larger culture and are, therefore, a step behind in teaching their children how to live with conviction, faith and hope. It is only through an appreciation and understanding of cultural dialogues that Christians can enter into them to redeem them, twist them back, and make these parables complete.

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This Interview summary will be continued tomorrow with the question, "What is the role of the Christian Church in the world with regard to artists?"

Beauty of God II

2005-06-28T06:11:00.000-07:00

Please see the previous post, Beauty of God I, for an introduction to what follows.

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This begins a personal summary of an interview with Makoto Fujimura which was written with great input from an unpublished project memo (dated January 11th, 2005) titled: "Makoto Fujimura: Though the Church may have left the arts, God did not."

We began our time together by watching an unedited interview with Makoto Fujimura, an ‘abstract’ artist living in New York City. The first question addressed to Fujimura was loaded with assumptions that perhaps reveal some current trends in the Christian thought of much of America’s general Evangelical population. The question posed was, “What happened to Modern Art; what are you doing to bring it back to a focus on beauty and a relationship with God?” What is revealing about current Evangelical thought here is that beauty and a relationship with God seem to be contained within certain categories (perhaps existential, ontological or epistemological) that art must approach and operate within in order to be properly focused. If art appears to be operating outside of those categories, or perhaps even if the categories in which the art is functioning are ambiguous, then the art is viewed as distant from beauty and a relationship with God. Fujimura’s response contrasts with the assumptions apparent in the question. Rather than placing the emphasis on the artist to represent beauty and a relationship with God in some understandable way, he emphasizes that the readers of art are instead to understand where beauty and a relationship with God are in the art. This perspective burdens the Christian to learn the language of the artist rather than making the artist speak like an Evangelical, like a Baptist, for example.

Foundational to Fujimura’s understanding of art is the idea that all expression ultimately belongs to God; whether we are redeemed or not, art is ultimately God’s gift to all of humanity. Consequently, it is up to Christians to learn how to read art in order to experience God regardless if the art is from a believer in Jesus or not. Fujimura says that this gift of God is operating in all the galleries, museums and studios in the world even if the artist does not know it. He admits that the artist’s imagination can become twisted and the product of expression can be tainted, but that the task of the believer is to see through the art and discern what is good. A Christian can twist the imagination back to God, not by creating a certain type of Christian art, but by discovering God in all of art.

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This summary will be continued tomorrow starting with the question, "How is it possible to discover God in art from secular arenas or in abstract or impressionistic art? "

Beauty of God I

2005-06-27T12:53:00.000-07:00

This is an alert to what is upcoming. I had the privilege of taking part in a small gathering of 10 other people in Colorado. The purpose of this gathering was to discuss the Beauty of God. Included in the group of 10 were leaders of movements, leaders of international non profit organizations, writers, a poet, a professor, musicians and others. We met for three days to enjoy each other's company, enjoy music, enjoy art, enjoy food and corporately anticipate a greater understanding of the topic that drew all of us together.

Since this gathering I have been attempting to synthesize and process much of what had taken place during those days. I thought that I would share some of it with you this week. The next three or four days will be reserved for an interview with well renown artist, Makoto Fujimura. What you will read here, and hopefully comment on, is based upon my reflections upon viewing the unedited interview, reading interview transcripts, and our discussions pertaining to the interview. I think that there is much for us to muse about in what is presented--maybe you can help provide greater clarity to some of my thoughts.

Following these next three or four days I would like to share some of my reflections on a movie documentary that we watched together, Rivers and Tides. This film enables viewers to watch Andy Goldsworthy create his art. Watching this film in the context of the Beauty of God has had profound meaning for my own life and identity.

Until then, please browse their websites and see what they have to offer.

Grace as the Gift of Social Interaction

2005-06-26T09:26:00.000-07:00

It sounds wordy, I know...but it has to be mused about. Does it seem apparent to anyone else that there is a rather hefty bias towards legal metaphors when talking about grace? In referring to grace in a legal manner, grace follows a wrong action. In a sense, one must reflect on their 'wrongness' in order to more fully appreciate their 'rightness' in the light of grace. If this mentality characterizes our spirituality then we are in for an emotionally bumpy ride. We must feel bad about our transgression in order to feel good about our reception of grace. Consequently, Christian life has often turned into a drama of discovering guilt, confessing guilt, receiving grace, and convincing oneself of innocence. In fact, it is this model that popular tracts handed out by some Christians follow. It is by following this process that one gets 'saved.'

While there is some merit (I presume--I haven't actually thought of any) to this understanding of grace, I would like to 'tip the scales' towards a different metaphor. I would like to explore, muse about, grace as the Gift of Social Interaction--given prior to any wrong doing. In fact, wrong doing is not a legal concept, but a relational concept. Laws are merely societal tools for collectively agreeing upon what is relationally right and wrong. They are not the origin of morals but are guideposts in the morality of social interaction. Bear with me. The whole point of the Torah, the 10 Commandments, the laws of Israel was not to establish moral absolutes, but to govern the necessity of social interaction with each other and with God.

We humans discover ourselves in the face of the other. We come to know that we are good artists, basketball players, computer designers through the affirmation of others. This is how we are also comfortable or uncomfortable with our appearance and stature. We also attempt to control this developing self-identity by making some relationships close in certain ways and distancing ourselves from others in certain ways. Consequently, we live life with a constant anxiety--which we usually try to ignore--that propels many of our decisions and relational habits. We worry about what we know, how we should act, and what we should be. It is a Grace of Social Interaction that puts these anxieties to rest so that we are free to love and free to live. After all, it is our instinctual efforts to protect ourselves from these anxieties that limits our abilities to truly and vulnerablely be content with ourselves so that we can be wholly other-minded.

God's grace is to provide mankind with a divine social interaction that provides security and safety in which humans can be free from these anxieties and freely interact with God and others. I regrettably do not have time to go into an extensive biblical exegesis, but I believe that this is the underlying story behind the Garden of Eden, the 10 Commandments, God's relationship with King David, the prophets, Jesus' message, the gospel, and Paul's letters. Despite our best efforts to turn away from God, whether because we are deceived into believing that we can be something that we are not or because our existential anxiety is greatest when looking into the divine face or because of some other reason, God is continuously at work to open up space for us to partake in a divine sharing of forgiveness in the face of God. It is the possibility of anxiety-free relationship, of a special kind of Social Interaction, that is the gift of God's grace from the very point of creation. Indeed, it is an eternal gift existing in the midst of the Trinitarian relationship.

What is at stake is not simply a legal debt; what is at stake is a relational opportunity. I think that it is too bad if our churches preach a list of do's and dont's rather than preach about relational possibilities. After all, in Christ there is no law. There is freedom to be one's self rather than to have to control our relationships in an effort to protect one's self from our feared anxieties. Jesus' first recorded message in three out of the four gospels is that the Kingdom of God is here, repent and believe the good news. This is not a legal message of repentance--it is a relational one. The establishment of a Divine Kingdom ensures for believers that this divine sharing of forgiveness in the face of God is secure for eternity. Because we believe that the Kingdom of God has been established and will continue to be established in the future, we are free to relate to one another and to God accordingly in the present. It is this grace, this Gift of Social Interaction, that the thief on the cross recognized when he said to Jesus, "remember me when you come into your kingdom."

I know that I have created many generalizations with this post and have given few details, but hopefully I have whetted appetites to explore other understandings of grace than the predominate metaphor's of legality. Maybe there will be more to come in the future along these lines. I would like to flush out these ideas with greater concreteness and clarity, but would also like to muse about the implications of these thoughts sometime in the future.

Punch Drunk Love

2005-06-25T08:38:00.000-07:00

Laura and I rented Punch Drunk Love last night. I have been meaning to see it for a long time, but have never gotten around to it. It is one of those movies that I might recommend to some but not to others. It depends upon why you chose to see or choose not to see some movies. For instance, if you choose not to watch movies because of explicit language then you may not want to see this movie. I tend to choose movies based on how they make me think. If I leave a movie thinking about something useful that I haven't thought of before than I tend to like the movie.

Punch Drunk Love uses light, color, sound, and experience (among other things like camera angles, motion and scene transitions) to envelope the viewer in a profound story of redemption. During the first part of the movie you may feel like hitting a wall or screaming out loud--I think this is good. If you didn't feel like this then you may not be able to be redeemed along with the lead character, Adam Sandler. Sandler's character is not the only thing in the movie demonstrating redemption. The lights, colors, sounds and all the things I mentioned before journey with him and force the viewer into the same process.

Punch Drunk Love is about the potential for redemption when one encounters a certain type of love that grants another the safety in which they can truly and freely be themselves. It is about a love that gives us an answer to the question of "why live" and even to a more compelling question of "what is worth fighting for." Sandler's 'fight' against physical people can be paralleled to our struggled against our conscience and the lies that we believe about our own selves. This makes the work of love even more impressive.

It is important to recognize the love at work in this movie as contrary to the love often admonished in the public arena of tolerance. This love, although in a small part, is not afraid to establish healthy boundaries of right and wrong. It teaches good behavior as well as draws it out of one without overtly teaching. This love changes actions by informing but even more so by freeing. All in all, Punch Drunk Love is not a pleasant movie to watch. The viewer will likely feel as annoyed and frustrated and confused as the main character, however, don't despair; it is a redeeming movie to watch.

Christians will probably immediately draw connections between God and the romance in Sandler's life. While there are many appropriate reasons to do this, one should not be too quick to overlook the qualities of love itself that give strength and power regardless of its source. From this end, I give Punch Drunk Love 4 beers our of a 4 beer system.

Moss and Sosa

2005-06-24T08:30:00.000-07:00

I moved with my family to Minnesota from Illinois almost 18 years ago. My formative years in sports were already over--I had chosen my allegiance. Who can blame a kid that lived just outside of Chicago during Super Bowl XX? Da Bears! Who can blame a kid that grew up attending baseball games at Wrigley Field?

That being said, 18 years of Minnesota have somehow worked their way into my soul. I am a Minnesotan. Even though I still make a semi yearly pilgrimage to Wrigley field, I have grown to cheer for the Twins. I can't quite say the same for the Vikings, not because it isn't true, but because a Bears fan understandably has difficulty voicing those words. What unites me in heart with Vikings fans is a detest for the Packers. This is easier to say. This leads me to Sosa and Moss.

It was a tough off season for me. I understand that Sosa and Moss have their problems. While one corks bats and the other runs over traffic cops, they both seem to leave games early. This doesn't take away from the fact that they are two of the most exciting players to watch in sports. I know that the teams that are trying to win do not like a whole lot of additional drama to distract them off of the playing field. But this drama is part of what makes players exciting to watch--you never know what they will do. There is a part of me, deep down, that could identify with Moss mooning the Packer crowd. Part of me sighed with relief and said, "that is satisfying."

That being said, though I do not get to watch these players compete for my teams anymore, I must confess that my teams are probably better off. The Cubs will always be the Cubs--being their fan is never about the win-loss column, it can't be. The Vikings look to be in prime shape to win the conference and, despite loosing Moss, have had one of the best off-seasons in football. The Bears have yet to play with much consistency but look to be making some baby steps. The Bears woes are much easier to look beyond when one thing seems to be certain: The Pack will struggle to make it to .500.

Dunn Bros. Coffee Thug

2005-06-23T11:51:00.000-07:00

I was going to write about Randy Moss and Sammy Sosa today, but that will have to wait until tomorrow. Instead I will write about the Dunn Bros. Coffee Thug. He is about 6 feet tall, has short brown hair with a goatee. He was wearing a white t-shirt, although he has probably changed by now. When I first noticed him I remember thinking that he looked somewhat sinister, not so much in how he was dressed, but in his facial expression and in the determined way that he marched into my favorite Dunn Bros..

Some of the reasons that this Dunn Bros. is my favorite coffee shop are because it is open reasonably late, they roast their own beans in the store and they have live music every night. The music was really pretty bad last night. I have a corner that I always sit in...it is in the back by the stairs and under a big plant. I can observe the whole scene from there. I like to people watch. That is what I was doing when the Dunn Bros. Coffee Thug entered.

He entered by the front of the store and disappeared behind a wall that divides the shop counter from the main seating area. He reappeared in the back of the coffee shop in the corner directly across from my seat. The Dunn Bros. Coffee Thug had trapped an employee against the bean roaster and was swinging wildly with both fists. At first I thought that they were just being guys who were playing around--for fun. Then I thought, "that looks like it hurts." Presumably a large guy buying beans at the back counter thought so too. I noticed that he was staring at the skirmish for a second or two before it occurred to him to intervene. While the Large Bean Buying Man held back the Dunn Bros. Coffee Thug the Roasted Employee called 911. This was the cue for the Thug to flee. He ran past me and out the back door.

Meanwhile, the bad music continued to play and no body in the main seating area noticed a thing. They continued sipping coffee and reading their books. The Large Bean Buying Man merely turned around and finished paying for his beans before walking out of the store. I, on the other hand, began thinking about what role I would play in the next drama should the thug return better equipped--maybe with a 9mil. Semi automatic. I of course would catch him by surprise--no body expects the guys sitting in the corner to ever do anything...the corner guys don't want to be the center of attention.

It wasn't until six paramedics, three fire fighters and three police officers showed up in the small coffee shop that the patrons began looking up from their newspapers. The Roasted Employee had a puffy eye and irregular heartbeat but was in good hands. I sat there wondering what his bill would be for the five emergency response vehicles sitting outside.

The whole thing reminded me of the time I had a gun pulled on me at a suburban grocery store. My friends and I had just finished stocking up on toilet paper when a gunman pulled alongside our car and pointed a hand gun at us. Then they sped off. It feels surreal in that life goes on like normal but you can't shake the idea that something absurd just happened.

Dunn Bros. Chess Player

2005-06-22T08:10:00.000-07:00

I often study at a Dunn Bros. coffee shop at the corner of Snelling and Grand avenues. Every night there is live music that provides a needed creative distraction as I sort out ideas for papers. It is a friendly coffee shop with a lot of regulars. You never know who might start talking to you--one night we all played percussion for a visiting band. That being said, I usually like to keep to myself.

A couple of nights ago I was having a creative surge and was trying to finish up a paper that I was working on. I had one hour before I had to be somewhere else. I had noticed a chess player sitting at a table in front of me. He was very friendly--I thought he must have been a regular. He finally asked me if I wanted to play. I told him that I had to finish my paper. This began a sort of dialogue in which he would ask me a question and I would give him a one word answer and promptly look back at my computer screen. Normal people know what that means. I didn't want to talk.

He was fairly loud. I am fairly shy and there were a lot of people sitting around us. He finally found out that I was attending Bethel Seminary and working on a sort of theology/philosophy degree. He appeared disappointed when he found out that I didn't want to be a pastor. That surprised me a little. After an awkward silence he asked me what church I went to. I said that I didn't and looked back at my computer. I had no idea what I was writing about anymore--I was now fully distracted by the Dunn Bros. Chess Player.

Much to my growing discomfort I discovered that he wanted to talk about God...loudly. This is fine I guess. What bothered me was that he was identifying with me--and because he was so loud it was a public identification. He didn't even know me. All he knew was that I went to a seminary. He never asked me a single question that wasn't related to a point that he wanted to make. He was telling me how important it was that we build our lives on the rock of Christ. This meant that we had to surround ourselves with Christian friends and influences. He started telling me about this Christian coffee shop that I should go to--evidently because I was a Christian. He even told me about how Jesus surrounded himself with the 12 disciples who went and preached to the 12 tribes. In the middle of this he asked the girl sitting next to me if we were bothering her. "We!?" I thought. I am not doing anything. I just wanted to write my paper.

Admittedly I was groaning at my inability to love this guy. I was also groaning at being identified as part of what I call 'the Christian cult'. We have Christian music, Christian parties, Christian coffee shops, Christian book shops, WWJD bracelets, 'Got Jesus' t-shirts and who knows what else. The Dunn Bros. Chess Player didn't realize it, but the religiosity of Christianity was about to suck him in and never let go. Why can't I just be normal like the girl next to me who had long ago put her head phones on? Controversial, I know; but I really think that the religiosity of Christianity brainwashes people and then tells them that they must go back into the world to share their faith. Maybe the world is a place they should have never left.

Beauty of God

2005-06-21T08:24:00.000-07:00

I am not sure what I think about the beauty of God. I have many questions. I am growing, however, in my experience of the beauty of God—at least I think that I am. The Evangelical influence upon my Christian growth didn’t seem to leave room for much beauty. I was taught (or at least perceived that I was being taught) to focus upon missional products and results—experiencing the beauty of God was something that happened on an occasional camping trip or within some mystical spirituality. My whole life was oriented around these products and results. I grew in my character so that others would see and believe in Jesus. I read the bible so that I could be impacted in such a way that would, in turn, impact the world—at least my part of it. My life was full of these 'so thats'. Every thing that I did was so that something better (or more fulfilling, more desirable) would result. I recently was driving in my car and came across a Christian radio station that was introducing their next segment. I heard, “If you are interested in changing your world for Christ then you need to hear this message….” I turned it off.

I am a part of a group of believers who are all young couples. Four years ago the group started as a sort of self-help group for the newly married. While individuals vary drastically within the group, we have collectively (and intentionally) turned our focus momentarily away from the missional goals of life and refocused on the process of life. In fact, having babies, being depressed, switching jobs, moving from one place to another, being happy, reading the paper, paying the bills, hurting one another and being reconciled to one another has become our place in which to experience the beauty of God—the processes of these ordinary things have become the goal of our lives. I am not sure in what ways we experience the beauty of God and I am not sure that we know what we are doing, but we are learning. We sense that somehow God’s beauty and our spirituality are one in the same with the often mundane and ordinary processes of life.

I have come full circle in some ways. I even see God’s beauty (sometimes) in our fuddled attempts at theological frameworks and missional objectives. And yet, I am still learning how to know my self (and my self in relation to God and others) apart from finding such a disproportionate amount of fulfillment in the ends of ‘5-step’ solutions and missional ideologies.

about my first blog

2005-06-20T20:37:00.000-07:00

There is nothing more frustrating than working hours on a computer without anything to show for the effort. Well, maybe...but this has to at least rank above average on the frustration scale. I have negative knowledge about computer languages so I we will see how this blogging stuff goes. I may have many frustrating nights ahead...