Bless Me Father

“You can always count on Americans to do the right thing - after they've tried everything else.” Winston Churchill

I heard this quote on a television program last night on PBS and I have thought about it quite a bit over the last several hours. I wonder how true this statement is of our nation and of the church in America.

I tend to pay attention to what church's are advertising or the little sayings they put up on their marquees. Lately I have seen some interesting ones that have gotten me to thinking. A couple of weeks ago I saw this marquee that read: "Give your best to your church." Nothing about caring for the world or even Jesus, just give all that you can to the church. Maybe I am reading too much into this one, but it bothered me. "God has blessed us" read another. That's nice to know. Now, how are we being a blessing to others? As I was driving to work I saw an interesting marquee that read: "A caring listener is a rare treasure." This one has me baffled, since the denomination that this church represents is not known for its compassion. I enjoy being a confidant (as my personality profile suggests) and it is much easier to be one since I learned not to gossip. I think it is more that God has given me the power to be an empathetic listener and then to almost immediately forget what secret thing was just confided in me when the person leaves. I think this is a gift, maybe the spiritual gift of forgetting. Anyway.

I got to thinking about a time when I was in a real crisis of faith a few years back and wondering what direction I should take, or where the Lord would lead. I went and visited a Catholic priest because I thought that I would take a stab at the mother Church. That did not work out, clearly, but it got me to thinking about the struggles of being in full-time ministry. A full-time pastor or church staff member really has no one to confide in in most cases. He or she cannot confide to church members (who they probably see often in social situations) for fear that their secrets will be spread throughout the church. And all too often, a pastor cannot confide in colleagues or other ministers of the same denomination for fear of repercussions. If a church staff member is struggling with an issue of sin or a weight, he or she must keep up the appearance that all is well. Christians are victorious, after all and if our leaders struggle, then what does that mean for us regular folks.

When I was considering the Roman Catholic Church, one of the greatest positives about it was the rite of penance or confession. I really liked the idea of being able to go to a priest, tell him my troubles and struggles, and receive guidance and absolution. I understand that I can do this with the Lord, but it is so much easier when someone else is there to help you along. Some would tell me to confess to those I have wronged, and while it is true that I could do this, often it would open up wounds in the other person's life that never needed to be opened. I have often wondered if part of our penance for wrongdoing should in fact be having to live with the knowledge that we wronged someone, even though they do not know anything about it. In other words, I cannot confess and make myself feel better when I know it will hurt another person in the process.

I think my fear is that we all too often miss the humanity of a person in ministry because we are too focused on the spiritual side of the equation. I am reminded of stories of Bob Dylan and others who found the Lord during the Jesus Movement, but were driven away from the Church by people who expected more of them than they were able to handle. Evangelicals saw the star power of a Bob Dylan and wanted him to immediately take on the mantle of super evangelist to the world. And when he did not change his hair style and did not stop singing his hit songs, he was rebuked. And now where is he spiritually? Nobody really knows. How sad that the church often kills our wounded and eats our young. We can learn from our mistakes with people, but we do not get those opportunities back very often.

So my question is: How can we keep our standards of righteous living, without becoming so heavenly minded to be any earthly good? Maybe we can find a way to do this without trying everything else first.

Peace.

Thoughts on Fundamentalist Thought

CNN aired this interesting three-part documentary called Warriors for God this past week. Each evening's program dedicated two hours to one of the three major monotheistic religions: Judaism, Islam, and Christianity. While I thought the program was fairly unbiased, I know that many evangelicals would watch this program with disdain. There was a great interview with the author of The Myth of a Christian Nation, as well as some startling discussions with the late Jerry Falwell and Christian Zionist John Hagee.

But the interview with former President Jimmy Carter was striking to me. The program discussed how that he grew up in a Southern Baptist church and taught Sunday school and was the first "Born again" president to be elected by the religious right and the first the religious right turned against. President Carter commented on the sharp right turn the SBC had taken in the 1990s and how that he had separated himself from the church based on their stance against women in ministry and other social issues.

President Carter's most intriguing statement was something to this effect: "A Fundamentalist will never admit that he is wrong, because then he would have to admit that God was wrong." Does this mean that we cannot be assured in our faith? Or does this mean that we need to have the grace to admit that we do not always know the mind of God? Is God ever wrong or do we misjudge what the Spirit of God would say to the Church?

I have discovered that there are some Christians who would rather not be questioned about their faith, who would rather just be comforted in it. This CNN program put it clearly that for many people, the evolution debate is the crux of the faith issue. If Genesis is wrong than all the rest is wrong. I have long wondered why we get in a quandary over minutiae in the Bible, but have no problem glossing over the easy to understand portions of the Scriptures. Have we gotten so far from Christ's plan for the Church that we have become exactly who He preached against?

I wish that I had that luxury of being comforted by faith. I love the Lord and trust in Him, but I admit that I do not always trust the Church. I just wish that I could be as assured as I once was about things that really do not matter. At least then I was content in my obliviousness. And who were those sons of God and daughters of men mentioned in Genesis 6 anyway? I am afraid that if I do not find out today I will have a crisis of faith! ; )

Dark Night of the Soul

It is significant at this point in my spiritual journey that an interesting new book is being published about the faith and doubt of Mother Teresa of Calcutta. I was made aware of this book in the most unlikely of ways. I was up last night watching Bill Maher's Real Time political talk show. Now, Mr. Maher is not my favorite person in the world, and he has a real problem with people of faith, any faith. He is a devout atheist and makes no bones about his disdain for the religious right and people of faith in general. I listen to him fairly often, though, because I am interested in the views of people who do not agree with me politically or spiritually. I cannot learn about the world by speaking only to evangelical Christians. (Most of them do not live in the world anyway.) He mentioned the fact that Mother Teresa had serious doubts over about 50 years of ministry in Calcutta. She often questioned whether God was there at all. After having felt a sincere, nearly audible call to her ministry to the least of these, she almost immediately felt an almost physical barrier between herself and Christ. She often prayed, but felt no response or release. To Bill Maher, this was an indication that she had figured out that religion was ridiculous. To others of faith, this is a sign of even greater faith in the midst of serious doubt. A woman on the panel commented that most people of faith had times of sincere doubt. Mr. Maher could not understand this, but he is not a person of faith and maybe he is not supposed to understand.

I feel better in many ways to know that someone that I think of as truly celebrating the life of Christ and entering into a lifetime of true ministry had sincere doubts about God's presence in their lives. I can only imagine what it must have been like for her to see the poor and oppressed every day and wonder about God's presence in the mean streets. I can only wonder about what this might do to my faith. I have long believed, and often taught, that anything that is worth believing comes with a modicum of doubt built in. Those things that can be believed without any room for doubt are things that are not worth believing in. In this new book which includes a number of unpublished letters by the now beatified Mother Teresa, she explains her real crisis of faith. And this from a person that the world would never have believed she had doubts.

Since taking my personality test last week, I have thought a lot about Mother Teresa because she was on the list of folks who had my specific personality makeup (including Luke Skywalker, by the way). I thought, "you have got to be kidding. I am nothing like her." But it turns out she and I had this one thing in common. A sincere working out of doubt in our lives of faith. Granted, mine has been on a much smaller scale, but the questioning that she speaks of is not unlike my own. I think part of my doubts stem from issues that surround my personality type, a type which seems to have a problem evaluating accomplished goals positively. I am not saying she brought this crisis of faith upon herself, but I wonder if she might have been unable to accept positively the small steps we all must take in order to get where we need to go. She wanted to be at one with Christ in his sufferings, and, in the end, she may have gotten an answer to her prayer in a way she did not expect. She may have become at one with the suffering of Christ on the cross, when he cried, "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?"

My prayer is that I can be more productive even in the midst of doubt. That I can strive to look at these struggles as God's way of completing the good work He began in me. I must remember that this is a process that will not be completed until my life on earth ends. I will never arrive at a moment when I will be finished. And that is okay.

So, my question for you is: How do your doubts play into your life of faith? Have they caused you to re-examine your core beliefs? Has this been a positive or a negative experience?

For more on this story of Mother Teresa, here is a story from Yahoo! News.

The Swinging Pendulum

I think too much. Over the past couple of years, especially since my change of life, I have given a lot of thought to what is important to me, what I really believe. I have found that many things that were once of utmost importance have become lesser players, if not out of work actors, in my life's play. Many of them are still wonderful foundational tools in my life, but some are by far greater stumbling blocks.

I realize that it was long before I left the Assemblies of God that my personal pendulum began to swing a little more to the center (and then a little more). I remember a time when I would not read anything about the Bible that was not from my own small point of view. At the college we would always point out the Baptist or, God forbid, Catholic leanings of a certain author or presentation. We knew better than to fall for those tricks of the Enemy. But I began reading some things by folks who were Jewish and other who had been Christians but had since left the fold, and their writing got me to thinking about a lot of my beliefs. And, it turned out to be a good thing for me. I learned that some things we hold dear are not all that important and that all of our faith is just that--faith. I learned that I do not have to prove the existence of God, or the resurrection of Jesus. This is beyond the point. If something is to be believed, then intrinsically, it must be something that one can doubt. There is no faith without the possibility of doubt. If there is no possibility for doubt, than there is no need for faith. So there are many things now that I will not debate because I do not worry about those things anymore.

One thing that is still a hindrance to me from my growing up is what Gregory Boyd refers to as "the myth of a Christian nation." Just like with my uneasiness to read anything that might effect my faith in the negative, I enjoyed living in the delusion that the founding fathers of our country were all evangelical Christians and that it is only a recent phenomenon that evildoers have come into such prominent places of power. Just from the description of Boyd's book, The Myth of a Christian Nation: How the Quest for Political Power Is Destroying the Church, we learn a lot:

Arguing from Scripture and history, Dr. Boyd makes a compelling case that whenever the church gets too close to any political or national ideology, it is disastrous for the church and harmful to society. Dr. Boyd contends that the American Evangelical Church has allowed itself to be co-opted by the political right (and some by the political left) and exposes how this is harming the church’s unique calling to build the kingdom of God. In the course of his argument, Dr. Boyd challenges some of the most deeply held convictions of evangelical Christians in America – for example, that America is, or ever was, “a Christian nation” or that Christians ought to be trying to “take America back for God."

The back cover states:

The Path through Politics Is Not the Road to God. When the kingdom of God is manifested, it will wear the face of Jesus Christ. And that, says author Gregory Boyd, has never been true of any earthly government or power. Through close examination of Scripture and lessons drawn from history, Dr. Boyd argues that evangelical Christians who align themselves too closely with political causes or declare that they want to bring America “back to God” are actually doing harm—both to the body of Christ and society in general.Boyd shows how Jesus taught us to seek a “power-under” kingdom, where greatness is measured by sacrifice and service. There are no sides or enemies because we are meant to embrace and accept everyone. In The Myth of a Christian Nation, Dr. Boyd challenges readers to return to the true love of Calvary and the message of the cross—setting the “power-over” politics of worldly government aside.

My concern is that when the Church becomes too political we lose our saltiness. I think this is borne out in history starting with Constantine and the Roman Empire and in the deplorable state of the state churches of Europe. Again, I think we have become too concerned with our rights and not concerned enough about the world. I just can't seem to find where the Scriptures teach us we gotta fight for our rights. Maybe you can help me out on this one.

I am looking for a day when "the kingdom of this world is become the Kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ. And He shall reign forever and ever. Hallelujah!" I just have enough faith in Christ to allow Him to do this rather than attempting to make it happen myself.

Peace.

You've Got Personality

Okay, so I took these personality tests tonight. It was interesting. They told me what I already knew about myself. But it is good to see it in print. If you want to take the tests (Myers-Briggs and the Multiple Intelligences), go here. If you want to know what mine means go here.

Enjoy.

Pressing On Without Looking Back (Too Much)

I have had a weird few weeks. And I think I have finally discovered why I seem all out of sorts. I have been taking this herbal supplement to help with my blood pressure. It has been moderate for some time now and I was trying to deal with it in a way other than getting on prescription medication. The problem with the herbal remedy is that it was not really working (after almost a month on it) and it is/was making me very anxious and paranoid. I got to thinking about the last time I really felt like this for absolutely no reason and it was the last time I tried taking an herbal supplement (then it was to lose weight). I should learn from the past, but more often I am forgetful of such things. Oh well, I will eventually get to the doctor and decide where to go from there, but at least I will be back to my normal self and not quite so paranoid. Unless you have heard from someone that I should be paranoid. ; )

We had a great Sunday morning. My wife was the guest speaker for all three of our morning worship services. Our church does a special Education Sunday each fall before school begins. Usually they invite someone from the school board or another educational official in the community. But this year they decided to ask my wife to take part and she did a phenomenal job. Remember, we are Methodists, so we think it is wonderful to have a woman speak in the pulpit. At least I do. She spoke about Jesus, the Master Teacher and what He could teach us today. She talked about prayer and love, but the most striking point of her message was about how Christ teaches us to trust Him. Faith, hope, grace--these are things we say we have, but they are abstract, and no one can really tell if you have them or not. She commented about how that she grew up in a Christian home, went to a Christian university (even has a minor in Biblical studies), has a Christian home herself, but still she really did not understand what it meant to really trust the Lord. She talked about when her mom died that she hoped for the best, but really did not trust God. That is, until a couple of summers ago when she began to consciously pray that God would help her to trust Him and to abandon her desire to control her future. What she does not know is that I, too, was praying the same thing for me and for her. It was about that time that I began to seriously talk to her about the possibility of making a major move. You know, I tried to stay where I was. I even tried to become a Baptist. That did not work. So, the moral of the story was that she began to trust the Lord, and the more she trusted the more He provided for us.

Well, I needed to be reminded of this today. I have been worried about a lot of things, especially money lately. We took a large pay cut when we moved to Florida and everything here is MUCH more expensive than in Texas. It has been a struggle for me to remain focused on the task at hand. I am grateful that God has opened up a door for me to teach at the community college and to start teaching some voice lessons to make up for my lost income. I cannot say how thankful I am that He cares enough to open doors for me to serve in my gifts, but to continue to serve in my present capacity. It is encouraging to hear the voice of the Lord speaking to me through my wife. I am just glad He is there.

In other news: I am now only overweight rather than obese. I calculated my BMI and that was the good news. I guess I should be proud, but I realize I will likely never achieve the perfect weight for my height. I think those BMI folks are crazy. And this is not my herb-induced paranoia speaking.

I have watched High School Musical 2 two times now. I am afraid that my children are rubbing off on me. I am becoming a tween. But those songs are just so darn catchy. I think I need to go to Walt Disney World. You know, it is the happiest place on earth.

We dubbed our new wirehaired dachschund Winston. He is a good little dog, only messes in the floor every other hour. He does know what outside is for, I just think he is already trying to mark territory. We will see how long I can stand that without having him neutered. He is from a champion blood line, but I really cannot fathom breeding a dog.

And last, you know you are a Methodist when you watch Star Wars and reply to "May the force be with you" with "And also with you."

Peace be with you.

The Mystery of Youthful Potential

I realize that this blog has been a whining post for me for the last few weeks, so I guess it is okay to do it one more time and get it out of my system.

I have been thinking a lot about potential lately, mine in particular. I am beginning to wonder if I have outlived my youthful potential. I guess I am wondering if I lived up to it or not. Or do I still have time to live up to it if I haven't yet?

I realize that to much of the western world, I am still very young. And it is not that I feel so old, it is just that I wonder whether we can ever know if we have lived up to what we could be, or what teachers or mentors saw in us when we were youngsters.

I had too many people tell me when I was young that I was talented or smart or pretty (just kidding). And, though this was wonderful for the childhood or teenage ego, it does a lot on the adult psyche. For instance, I had this voice teacher in high school who was one of my greatest musical roll models. In fact, though I have had better teachers since, I still look to his example for my own voice students. He told me when I was 17 that by the time I was 35 I would be a tenor. Well, I am 35 now and though most people who listen to me sing would say that I am, I really think I just fake my way through the high notes. So, did I live up to this prophecy of potential? Inconclusive.

I think part of my problem has been a fear of peaking too quickly. I have blogged about this before, but it concerns me all the more the older I get. I guess there were things that I thought would not bother me when I got older. And that was just not true. Maybe I was hoping for a great shaft of light to tell me when I arrived where I needed to go. But the truth is, I don't really think it is about arriving. I think it is about benchmarks along the journey. I think at most of these benchmarks I have been where I needed to be for those times in my life. I guess I have always put far too much pressure on myself, more than anyone else did. I remember my third grade teacher (who was a chariskook) was deeply concerned for me that I put too much pressure on myself to succeed. I think I felt that if I disappointed my family by making bad grades or acting out they would stop loving me. Clearly, I was a first child and I see this fear in my oldest daughter to a degree (and so I try to convey to her that though it seems like we expect a lot from her, we love her no matter what). It is much easier to deal with it in someone else than it is to take your own advice.

This fear of peaking too early may come not from a sense of inferiority but a latent superiority. I mean, it was really an ego boost to be able to tell people I was an college professor at age 24. It was a lot of fun to be the youngest in the crowd. And maybe this is my aggravation--that I will likely never again be the youngster on the block. And maybe that is okay. Only God knows.

I am thankful that God still works through me despite my issues or psychoses. And I have plenty of them. I would be glad to give you a little dose of paranoia if you want it. ; )

Maybe I should just scream!

Mixed Signals

Have you ever had one of those weird weeks where most things were really good, maybe too good? I have been concerned about some personal things lately, and oddly enough an answer presented itself yesterday that normally I would have been inordinately happy about. I definitely see it as an answer to prayer, more the prayers of desperation rather than the "Dear Father" kind, but answers nonetheless. And really, I am very happy to have this "resolution" to a struggle that has bothered me for many months now. I guess my leeriness comes from my love/hate relationship with change and what this resolution will do to my life. I am sure I will find out soon enough.

I have thought long and hard about the note of encouragement I received from the woman on the back row of the church this past Sunday. I believe it was a prophetic word to me that I am exactly where I need to be. Not that I was worried about that, because, frankly, I am not at all. And I know I am where I am supposed to be. It is just nice to know that God thinks so too and loves me enough to tell me through someone who has no reason to tell me something other than the truth. I am awed by the fact that God was concerned about my feelings of malaise and gave me a heavenly pick me up (or something holy and not that cheesy). And besides this note, I heard some things spoken in the church that make me feel much better about our direction and not at all alone in my concerns. Again, I believe God knew I needed to hear some of these things. Anyway, thanks.

I have heard nothing but good things about my choir party on Saturday. The choir gave me a nice card with a French theme. It was nice. It is good to be back to my fall schedule of rehearsals. I have a lot of them, but I would rather be busy doing than busy planning (which everyone I work with thinks I love, but in actuality I hate, I am just good at it). I am looking forward to next week because I will start teaching my class at the community college. I am too excited about this. I am a little nervous the closer I get to it, but it will all come back. I did it too long to forget how. I really like the folks that I will be working with at the college. They seem like a lot of fun.

We got a puppy for our little girls today. He is a wirehaired dachshund who is as yet unnamed. He is a funny little guy and seems to be getting used to us okay. The two big girls and I went to pick him up in Pensacola this morning. I did not work today because in the first 4 days of the week I had already worked a week's worth of hours (and this does not include my full day on Saturday preparing and hosting the choir reading session and dinner). This happens a lot. My work week is heavily weighted to Sunday through Wednesday. Anyway, it took us all of 2 hours to drive there (longer than I had thought). We almost ran out of gas. We were five minutes late and the woman we were supposed to meet to pick up the dog was not there at our rendezvous place. I called her and she had been in a wreck just up the street. So, we went and found her, pulled in in front of her and picked the god up. Mind you, the Florida highway patrol was behind her (and the truck that rear-ended her). I felt like I was making a drug deal (or what I think that would be like) except that the police were there. It was weird, and I had this scenario play through my mind of being shot by the police trying to pick up a puppy dog. We got him home and he is funny to play with and watch. The big girls love him. Little miss Mad does not quite know what to think of him. She will come around.

So, my question is: Is it okay to have a TV show (or movie, or music group, or book) that we love but are embarrassed to tell anyone we love it? I know it is random, but my probing thoughts for the week are either too personal this time or were answered by the Lord through people unaware of their role in God's providential care of me and my mental health.

God grant me the serenity to get over myself.

PS: I now have 89 friends on Facebook. I am still addicted, but hopefully this too shall pass. Also, if you have a good puppy name, pass it along to me. I cannot come up with a proper name for this little angel. I want something literary or artistic, but not ridiculous. And not Max.

A Vision of Hell and of Hope

To say that this last week has been interesting would be one of the world's largest understatements. It has not been bad, it has just been one of those weeks (2 or 3 depending on when this one started) that I have taken everything personally, that I have been overly tired, and that I have just wanted to stay in bed.

Case in point: I had this choir party that I was hosting this past Saturday evening. We had a Parisian theme with big visuals of the Arc de Triomphe and the Eiffel Tower on the walls, and lot of posters of Paris and art books and all manner of Parisian fare. The centerpieces were Eiffel Tower tea lights. We had our fall music reading session before and several folks who had been out and about came back to the fold and I was thrilled. The dinner was wonderful. Our pastor grilled fillet Mignon and it was delicious and I don't mean good for a church party. I mean it was good. Everything went off without a problem until I started taking down my decorations. I had this peal and stick poster of the Eiffel Tower that was taller than me and as I was taking it off, it pealed off about a foot of paint from our fellowship hall wall. Not thrilled. Not that big of a deal, but considering that I am taking everything harder than normal this week, it was an aneurysm awaiting.

Until today. We were having some issues with the computer we use for our visuals for our church services this morning. But, thankfully, that was taken care of early, before church ever began. Only thing was that our media people were training some new folks to run our visuals and about a third of the way through the service, they just went away (the visuals, not the people). Well, you must understand that we are live on television at 11:00 and I had to make the decision whether or not I was going to say something to the media people from the pulpit or just let it go. Bear in mind, all the words to the hymns are on this screen for the choir and for me. Now, I take the words with me, but I do not have them memorized by any means. So, if I have to use the words, it means I have to look down and not out to the people and to the television audience. It was not good, but I decided to say something to the media tech and within a couple of minutes it was taken care of and we did not have to go the rest of the service with no visuals for the choir and staff. I was nice and made some funny comments about being live. Thank God were not live this Sunday. By some strange grace from God our signal was not being picked up by the TV station, so we were able to edit out my comments. I think the congregation thought it was funny (several stopped me and said so, by the way), but I left feeling that there were those who were not thrilled with me for saying anything about it.

We are the FIRST Church and there are a good number of people who, by God, think we should act like we are a FIRST Church. Most First churches are like this, a little more proud of themselves than they ought to be, and I chose a First Church because I knew I would be able to communicate better with this type of church than with a more working class church. But the problem is when we act like a FIRST church, we are not accessible enough to the people of the world to engage them in a way that they will want to come along on the journey to knowing Christ. It is probably just my problem and I am likely reading more into comments that have been made.

We do have to be concerned about our reputation in the community, but I have to wonder at times whether our reputation helps us or hinders us. I remember a conversation I had with a hair stylist I went to the first couple of months I was in Florida. She was quirky as most hair stylists are. She asked me where I worked, and when I told her, she proceeded to ask me if they knew who they had hired. I said I thought they did. She said something to the effect that they must be going in a different direction over there. I took this as a compliment that I was a normal person, not a churchy person. Now, I do not think that anyone I work with is too churchy a person. We are all normal folks who love God and our community. It is difficult, though, to outlive church stereotyping. I think we are concertedly working on this and one day we will be free of this baggage.

I had a woman slip me the kindest note of encouragement today at our contemporary service. I don't think she realized how much I needed that this week. She visits every so often, but is not a member of the church. She slips in the back and worships like nobody else is there. I so appreciate it when she is here. I do not have to work for her to enter into worship. She just exudes worship. I need more of those kinds of people. I know I should be able to worship and lead in worship without a visual stimulus, but it helps so much when the congregation is more interactive. It just takes time to train people to praise the Lord, even people who really love the Lord like my congregation does.

As you can see, none of these things in and of themselves amounts to much stress. That is why it is all the more troubling to me that I would be bothered by these things. I feel foolish, but at least I have the three people who read my blog to take it out on.

I was having trouble communicating with my choir on Saturday afternoon, mainly due to the fact that I had not slept well in days. But then I had a vision of hell from the night before. It was scary and demons were all around me. It was hell all right. It was Wal-Mart. At least my children were not there to witness it. I told you I was a bit of a snob.

Peace

It's All A Masquerade

I have had an interesting week. To say the least, it has probably been my most reflective week of the year in many ways. Now, don't get me wrong, I am content to be where I am and I enjoy my surroundings and the people around me everyday. But there has been something I just could not put my finger on. I guess it is what Kathy Bates' in Misery referred to as "the blues." You know, rainy days and Mondays and all that. A lot of what I have been reading has made me very sad for the state of the church in general, and I have somewhat internalized this angst to my detriment. Another part of this moodiness has had to do with several folks in the church dealing with familial troubles of one variety or another, and this has definitely taken its toll on my mood.

I had this orientation meeting to go to at the community college this evening to discuss the grading program and other classroom technology issues. It went well and I know I will enjoy teaching the course. Again, it is a course I could teach in my sleep with very little preparation. I know it is just my mood for the week, but I wanted to cry after I left the meeting because it felt so much like home. I know I am doing exactly what I need to do right now in my life. The church has meant the world to me and has given me a new lease on life. I no longer feel that I am stuck in a place where I feel beat down and that I can't do anything else, or that I have no choice but to take it like a man cause I will be there forever. I am more than grateful for that. But, as I taught the course on worship this past July and as I began my orientation and planning for my music appreciation course this fall, I am sadly aware of how much this is a part of my being to the core. I can only say, I miss it very much.

I guess this is one of the unknown to me reasons that I have been having such a melancholy week. I have found myself reconnecting with former students who I used to see everyday, but have not communicated with in several months. (I now have over 40 "friends" on Facebook. I am a little addicted.) I guess I just needed to connect with some younger people again because I miss that SO much. Now, granted, I am working with the youth at our church now and I really enjoy that (to my great surprise), but I just miss the almost on the brink of adulthoodness of college students and helping shape them into thinking people. I am hopeful that I can make teaching a more significant part of my life again, if only in a part time manner. I hope to be an influential instructor who helps his students enjoy the subject matter even if they do not intend to major in music.

But my melancholiness reminded me of my always big concern . . . that people will see me for who I really am. And that frightens me. I think we all put on a facade, and really I don't think mine is all that veiled. But as I sat in that meeting, and remember, I have a doctorate in music, went to very good schools, and have 10 years of experience teaching in higher education, I could not help but wonder if people were looking at me and wondering "Who is this fool?" I think it was just that I was out of my element, and when it came down to it, everyone was very kind, asked my opinion (I think to the chagrin of an older colleague), and they all seemed truly pleased to have me. And I was pleased to be had. I just worry to much about change even though I thrive upon it. It is also taking me some time to get used to finding jobs based solely on my merit without the assistance of a familiar support network to fall back on. Even when I worked at other community colleges before, I always could say that I was a full-time instructor at a university and, boom I was in the club. Now, I feel like an emeritus member. Or, like an old man who talks about when he used to do something. I say this a lot, but it seems like another lifetime ago, really.

Okay, enough blubbering. I just needed to get it off my chest. I feel much better now.

I am excited about this weekend because I am hosting a Choir Fall Music Reading and Fellowship Dinner on Saturday. I started doing this last year. We sing through our new fall choral music and our Christmas presentation and have a nice dinner afterwards. This year we are singing Camille Saint-Saens' Christmas Oratorio, so our dinner is Parisian themed (the composer was French) with large visuals of the Arc de Triomphe, the Eiffel Tower, etc. It should be very nice. Tomorrow I am going to spend the day with my little angels and do something fun like go to McDonald's and play on the playground or go to the beach and vegetate. I need some not thinking time.

So, my question is: Have you visited my Facebook? Please help feed my friendship habit! I need to be loved. ; )

We're All Born Weeds

As most of you know, back in February we bought the house that we had been renting. It is a nice little house in a nice, quiet neighborhood. But it was owned by two different people before we bought the house and used as rental property, so I believe we were the fourth family to live in the house and it was built in 2003! This means that the yard was a mess, and, honestly, we only kept it mowed and did nothing with the landscaping until we bought the house. Once we closed on the home, we removed all of the landscaping and started over. It looks nice, except for the grass. We have the worst weeds I have ever seen. They are these long weeds that my "green" mover which runs by man power rather than by gas or electricity (think Mike Brady's lawnmower or Beaver Cleaver's) will not cut. So, I have to mow the lawn and then go back and pull each weed by hand. It is a tedious process, but gives me a lot of time to think while I am doing it.

I usually find myself singing this little song that I used to sing called "Weeds." This song is a horrible little Southern gospel song that I used to sing as part of a comedy group called the "Happy Goofmans," a group that parodied music in the church. We poked fun lovingly at the ridiculousness of gospel groups. We would sing about the King James Version and long hair and clothesline preaching. But the "Weeds" song was a real song and did not need any changes. It said something to this effect: "I've been changed from a weed into a flower and placed in the Master's bouquet. Weeds, we're all born weeds . . ." and so on. It was horrible and really funny with the bossa nova beat we put to it.

I also think about the parable of the wheat and the tares in which Jesus tells His disciples that the gardener would allow the wheat and the weeds to grow together and then in the end separate them from each other. I think it is hard to know which one we are sometimes. Like the sheep and the goats that the Father will judge, both are people who are planted in the same place and allowed to grow together, but one set knows the Father, and, more importantly, He knows them. The other, though they are fed together, the Father does not know.

Over the last couple of days, I have felt like a goat, primarily because I felt like I was treated like a servant, and it bothered me. It bothered me, and it bothered me that it bothered me. As much as I like to pretend that I am a servant and want only what is best for the Kingdom, I still have to admit that I am a long way from it at times. I also have to wonder whether or not my desire to be a servant is not fueled by a selfish desire to be perceived as the best Christ follower, and thereby the biggest servant or martyr or at least the facade of such. I also need to work on my patience with the church. Just because I feel that I have been enlightened to areas in which we need to grow (and I need to grow), does not mean that I have nothing to learn from the church or from my experiences in my local body. I am really struggling with feelings of superiority and it is making me very angry with myself.

Dear God, please help me to be able to serve without hesitation or reservation. Help me to use all that you teach me about the Christ-filled life as a means to bring people to you and not to make me feel better about how spiritual I can be. Amen.

Confessions of the Deranged

I have to make a confession: I am now part of the Facebook community. I feel like a freak, but it is addicting. My college students always told me I should get one, but I poopooed them. Now, they are laughing "with" me and becoming my "friends." Oh well, most of my "friends" are in the teenage and twenty-something set. So what does that say about me?

Today was my 13th wedding anniversary and we took our children to the Olive Garden since that was the first restaurant we went to as a married couple.

Other than that, the day was pretty pathetic. I guess it was just a Monday, but I have a lot of faith in Mondays. It was just a little discouraging, but you know that happens every so often. Can't have every day be wonderful.

Here is a favorite video about Methodists by the great Betty Butterfield. Unfortunately, this drag queen knows a thing about churches. You should hear what she says about . . .

Wrapping it All Up

I have been reading Dan Kimball's latest book They Like Jesus But Not the Church and it has been good to read this. Like A Generous Orthodoxy, it makes me feel at least that my concerns for the church are not unfounded and that my rants are not without cause. In my last post, I thought I had found the scariest picture in the one where Jesus is holding a gun. I was wrong.


This is the saddest picture I have ever seen. Take a look at the website it endorses here. I cannot believe these are Christians (Baptists, actually). I was most amazed by the game that keeps the fags away from children. Whenever I think the Church is making progress, by asking the tough questions and trying to find answers, I am disturbed to find another group who are basically killing in Jesus' name. I guess my translation of the Bible says something that theirs does not. I guess I am naive to think that one day His kingdom will come and His will will be done on earth as it is in heaven. But I have to hope.

Although I work in "organized religion," I want to do my best to avoid the pitfalls that Dan Kimball suggests most people who are into Jesus, but do not like the church think the church is about (political agendas, homophobia, judgmental and negative attitudes, suppressive of female viewpoints, arrogant about other faiths, and full of fundamentalists). My problem is that I work for a church and it takes most of my time during the week. So what can I do to be intentionally missional and be a part of my community? First, I am going to teach a class at the community college. Although this is something that will pay me some money, it will also allow me to be around non-Christians again and get their perspectives on things. I did this before I moved to Florida and it was wonderful. I made relationships with a group of young Buddhist men from Nepal who were funny and would tell me a lot about their faith (mainly because I asked). It was significant to see their faces light up when someone was interested in them and where they were from rather than just about "how do you like America?" But I did not try to proselytize these guys and some would think that I failed in my mission to reach people. Some of us plant and some of us reap. Hopefully there will come a day when these guys have another interested person bring them to a full knowledge of Jesus. I just tried to live like Him and I hope they saw that. I have found that when we stop long enough to acknowledge the people in our lives, they are more than willing to be helpful, kind, and tell you their story. People are dying to tell their stories, but we have to be prepared to listen to them. Enough preaching.

I took my family to Mexico Beach on Friday morning. It was a little rainy, but we chose a place that was just on the edge of a very dark sky. I still got a little sunburned, even though it was not really bright. The girls had a great time, especially my little Mad who is becoming a water baby. We bought her a toddler bed at the church's big garage sale. This will replace her baby bed soon. I am a little sad that she is probably the last baby we will have. I guess I will get over it.

Saturday I had to sing for the funeral of our church organist's sister. As I have said before, I could nearly make a profession out of singing for funerals. I guess I do a good job because half of the crowd at each funeral that I do stops me afterwards to tell me they want me to sing at their funeral. I guess I am flattered, but it is a little morbid.

Sunday is always a hectic day. I did not sleep much Saturday night so I was not at my best. Doing three services each Sunday morning (2 Traditional and 1 Contemporary) and holding rehearsals before and in between makes for a really tiring day. By noon I have already been at church 6 hours. Then I come back about 3:00 to prepare for the youth to come practice for their service at 5:00. So four services on Sundays for me. It is a long day. This week marks my last week before I get back to "normal" after a summer hiatus of sorts. Besides my four Sunday services and rehearsals, I will have my regular worship team rehearsal, plus my choir rehearsal, handbell choir practice, and my senior ladies choir practice. And in less than two weeks, I will start teaching my class at the community college (and I am hoping to take on some new voice students). One good thing about this last funeral was that I got to sing for some of the local high school choir directors, so maybe I will be able to use this as a contact to gain some more students, get a little money, and be able to hear what young people are thinking these days.

Since I started this blog with a tragic picture, I wanted to end with an uplifting one. My two littlest angels dancing in the wind. They are my strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow. Tomorrow is my 13th wedding anniversary. She is still my favorite person in the world, and, thankfully, a willing companion on this wild ride that neither of us expected, but are grateful for all the same.

Peace

Putting the "Fun" Back in Fundamentalism

I saw this little advertisement on the back of a bus stop bench for a Unitarian Universalist church in Valdosta, Georgia earlier this week. It read:
"NOT HELL, JUST HOPE AND COURAGE."
I have thought about it a good bit since then. I wonder, is hell all the people of Earth think the Church has to offer?


This may be the most frightening picture I have ever seen~Jesus with a gun. I think the original caption read: "When Jesus knocks on the door of your heart, He doesn't take 'No' for an answer." Where does one come up with this type of theology?

And last, have you seen the video of the Jewish reporter who went to visit John Hagee's pro-Israel convention? If not, take a look here:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/max-blumenthal/rapture-ready-the-unauth_b_57826.html

And I was worried that Christians had a bad name in the world.

I'm glad God loves us, but He has too. ; )

We're Only Human After All

I am often surprised to find that other people think the same way about the church that I do. Again, as I mentioned in a previous blog, I have a tendency to think that I am the only one going through "the change" of church life. I know this is not true, but it feels that way a lot of the time. This is definitely the case for my journey to the postmodern world/emergent church or whatever you want to call it. I finally read Brian McLaren's A Generous Orthodoxy which I should have read years ago, but just did not want to. Why would I not read a book that pretty much describes my feelings about faith and the church and where the world is headed? Precisely for these reasons. I knew what the book said, because I have said many of those things in churches, in the classroom, and with like-minded friends who are/were worried about the state of the modern church and what on earth could happen next. The thing is, I have been dealing with these struggles since the early 1990s, so I guess I was emergent before I even knew how to define what I was feeling.

As a youngster growing up in the Assemblies of God, we were big on spiritual gifts. And because I could clearly see many problems and struggles within the church, I thought I had a prophetic gifting. I no longer believe this is my gift, but it led me to be very concerned about where we were headed, but with no real answer to the question. Some of the questions did not exist for me back then. In looking back over my short adult life, I have noticed several turning points that brought me to divest myself of most of my modernist leanings that I once held dear (especially my love for easy answers to "biblical" questions).

1. After graduating from high school (private, Evangelical school) I went for two years to an Assemblies of God college. So, for all intents and purposes I never gave myself the opportunity to be around people who did not at the heart agree with most of what I believed. UNTIL, I went to real university. For the first time, I was around non-Christians, people who smoked and drank (GASP!), Roman Catholics, and gay people. I mean, my voice teacher and my accompanist were both gay, so I had to be around them every week quite a bit. There was no getting away from it. I found that within the course of the two years that it took me to graduate from university, I was beginning to see a change in how I thought about the world. A face was growing on the body of the sinners I never met due to my inability to engage the world.

2. During graduate school, at Southern Methodist University, a very liberal school, I was around not only musicians, but theology types who did not believe at all what I believed. I remember taking a course on Russian Orthodox music and liturgy. I fell in love with the liturgy and symbolism of Orthodoxy. I still love it and, in fact, my office is filled with icons from the Greek and Russian traditions. One day we were discussing the legend behind a certain icon of the Theotokos (mother of God) and I commented that I thought it was a bunch of malarkey. The professor, one of my favorites to this day, asked me if I believed the stories of the Bible. I told her I did because they were in the Bible. And she looked me in the eye, smiled and said, "Well, I'm not going to go into the fact that there are two Creation accounts, ... Why do you believe the Bible to be true?" I told her I took it on faith, because it was the Bible. And she said that that was exactly how the Orthodox believers took these stories. A student behind me in the class muttered that he did not believe any of that s*** (and he was one of the theology students). It was eye opening in many ways. I also had the opportunity to visit an Episcopal Church to sing the Exsultet for Good Friday and the Easter Service. My wife went with me and she felt very uncomfortable with the ritual (which I loved, but I wish they had told me when to genuflect during our processional) and the fact that a woman came and encouraged her to take Communion with the wine smell still heavy on her breath. It was not time yet.

3. After graduate school, I immediately thrust myself back into the world of the Assemblies of God by teaching at an AOG university. It was good for me in so many ways. I learned to teach and to think about what I believed in what I thought was a safe environment. But my time away from evangelicals (and Pentecostals) brought a different spin to my belief system. I remember preparing for a church music history course, one for which I wrote a textbook, and in so doing, learned a lot about church history. I began to look at what the early church actually believed, not from the standpoint of how we read our own stories back into history, but from the vantage point of what they actually had to say themselves--about worship, practice, and doctrine. It was incredible, and scary all at the same time because I began to question many things that I held dear throughout my life. I mean, what would my grandmother think if she knew I questioned the whole idea of dispensational eschatology or that I was wavering on whether or not one had to speak in tongues to receive the baptism of the Holy Spirit or that I began to see wonderful faith moments while attending Mass or that I had begun a meaningful dialogue with a United Methodist Church?

I have to admit that I went and visited an Orthodox priest (and a Roman Catholic one to boot) to get some advice about what I was feeling. I did not feel that I was in a place to safely experiment with my faith. We were told to keep it simple. Prepare church leaders. You do not want our future pastors to be asking the hard questions when they need to tow the line for their flocks. The Orthodox priest (complete with long beard and cassock) gave me some of the best advice I have ever received. He told me to wait until my wife was ready to make a change. I am grateful to Father John for that. The Catholic priest was just so amazed that someone from my background would even be asking these questions about apostolic succession and other things I had learned about. In the end, I think we have chosen a better path for our family.

Ultimately, I realized (and taught my students) that there are wonderful traditions within every church/denomination. I loved the charismatic flavor of my Pentecostal heritage, the Bible-loving Baptists, the liturgy loving Anglicans, the multi-sensory approach to worship of the Orthodox, the mysticism of Roman Catholics, and the social activity of the Methodists. I needed it all in order to fully realize God's plan for all creation and specifically for me. This was not the stance of someone who needed to tow the party line and it caused a great misery upon my life and my family's life. It could not last forever and now, sitting on the other side of the struggle, I am glad it did not last forever.

The hard thing for me now is that I work within a church that is still heavily rooted within the modern paradigm and it is sometimes frustrating to worry about issues that do not worry some (and to not worry about issues that others seem to be worried all too much about). I believe it takes all kinds, so it is likely that these areas are still important, even if they are not important to me. What I do not want is to become so enamoured by the trendiness of the emergent conversation that I can no longer function within the modern church. I do not want to become arrogant about how God has changed my life and way of thinking. Jesus is about humility and grace (there I go with the grace card again) and I want to be about those things. I love my church and where I am planted for now, and I completely intend to stay within the United Methodist Church for many years to come, so these comments are no indicator of unhappiness or restlessness in the least. I just think that wherever I am, I will be a catalyst for thought-provoking discussion and change. It is horrible and wonderful all at the same time. As Vincent Donovan was quoted in A Generous Orthodoxy:

The day we are completely satisfied with what we have been doing; the day we have found the perfect, unchangeable system of work, the perfect answer, never in need of being corrected again, on that day we will know that we are wrong, that we have made the greatest mistake of all (Christianity Rediscovered, 146).

In the end, I guess I never read McLaren's book because I could have written it. I am glad that I bit the bullet and read it, if for no other reason, I can say that I am not alone in this journey. I just want to love God and love the Church (and some times it is hard to do the latter). But as someone told me many years ago when I would complain about the church, the Church is the Bride of Christ, and therefore beloved of Christ. So, it is not my place to speak ill of the One Christ loves.

So my question is: How can we love the Church, still speak of her illnesses and idiosyncrasies, and not devalue her relationship to Christ?

Additionally: Can you count the number of missional catch words I incorporated into this blog post? And which ones do we hate now? I get behind and forget.

Peace

A Funny Little Story About Hymns and Praise Songs

By Author Unknown

This is an old "forward" but funny with a kernel of truth.

An old farmer went to the city one weekend and attended the big city church. He came home and his wife asked him how it was.

"Well," said the farmer. "It was good. They did something different, however. They sang praise choruses instead of hymns."

"Praise choruses?" asked the wife. "What are those?"

"Oh, they're okay. They're sort of like hymns, only different," said the farmer.

"Well, what's the difference?" asked the wife.

The farmer said, "Well it's like this ... If I were to say to you, 'Martha, the cows are in the corn,' well that would be a hymn. If, on the other hand, I were to say to you, 'Martha, Martha, Martha, Oh, Martha, MARTHA, MARTHA, the cows, the big cows, the brown cows, the black cows, the white cows, the black and white cows, the COWS, COWS, COWS are in the corn, are in the corn, are in the corn, in the CORN, CORN, CORN, COOOOORRRRRNNNNN,' then, if I were to repeat the whole thing two or three times, well that would be a praise chorus."


As luck would have it, the exact same Sunday a young, new Christian from the city church attended the small town church. He came home and his wife asked him how it was.

"Well," said the young man, "It was good. They did something different, however. They sang hymns instead of regular songs."

"Hymns?" asked the wife. "What are those?"

"They're okay. They're sort of like regular songs, only different," said the young man.

"Well, what's the difference?" asked the wife.

The young man said, "Well it's like this ... If I were to say to you, 'Martha, the cows are in the corn,' well that would be a regular song. If on the other hand, I were to say to you,

Oh Martha, dear Martha, hear thou my cry
Inclinest thine ear to the words of my mouth.
Turn thou thy whole wondrous ear by and by
To the righteous, glorious truth.

For the way of the animals who can explain
There in their heads is no shadow of sense,
Hearkenest they in God's sun or his rain
Unless from the mild, tempting corn they are fenced.

Yea those cows in glad bovine, rebellious delight,
Have broke free their shackles, their warm pens eschewed.
Then goaded by minions of darkness and night
They all my mild Chilliwack sweet corn chewed.

So look to that bright shining day by and by,
Where all foul corruptions of earth are reborn
Where no vicious animal makes my soul cry
And I no longer see those foul cows in the corn.

Then, if I were to do only verses one, three and four, and change keys on the last verse, well that would be a hymn."

A "Wild" Adventure

Well, I took a little vacation these past couple of days. It was interesting. As you know, I live in a fairly touristy area of northwest Florida. We are within a short driving distance to Alabama and Georgia. So, we decided to go to Georgia for a couple of days and take in an amusement park that is about three hours from our house. I say with some regret that I am getting old, because the vertigo will just not go away after riding the rides. This visit to the amusement park only solidified my knowledge that I live in a Redneck haven. I commented to my wife that I thought the place we went was worse than where we live. The look on her face told me that this was indeed where we live.

My oldest daughter is getting to an age when she would rather ride bigger kid rides than the little kid rides with her younger sister. So that means I get to ride with her. We had a great time, but this was the first time I had been on real rides (with one minor exception) in many years. About a week before my wife and I were married, we went to a carnival in her hometown. We bought an armband so we could ride all the rides as many times as we wanted. Well, there were two problems with this plan. 1. We decided to eat chili dogs at the Dairy Queen before we went to ride on these rides. 2. While riding the second ride, a girl threw up on herself behind us. You know, it was one of those "octopus" type rides that turns and spins you in the other direction. Well, her vomit hit her on the way back around. I vowed I would never ride rides again and we went back to her house and laid very still till I could muster up the strength to drive to my apartment. Well, never say never. Now that I have children, I am learning the art of compromise with myself. I just wish the floor would stop spinning.

I think I am a little jaded, too. Who am I kidding? I am a lot jaded, but I guess I feel bad about it now. After we had ridden several rides, we ate lunch and went to see a patriotic song and dance show. I guess this was one of those calls for "singers who can move well" as opposed to "dancers who can sing" because the dancing was not all that good. And, well, the singing was not great either. I guess I am just a harsh critic. Somebody asked me last week if I went to such and such concert or hard seen a certain band in concert before, and they were surprised that I had not. I told them I just don't go to concerts much. And I think I stopped going because they were so expensive, and I was never really satisfied with what I got for my money. Well, I must admit that I had low expectations for this last little show I saw and said expectations were met. I will say that the young men in the show wore these tight stretchy pants, and I was afraid that one of my daughters would ask me about a certain mouse that needed to stay in the house. Thank God for small favors, as none of them asked. We are safe for a little while at least.

Please excuse the following rant. When did it become appropriate to hoot and catcall at a performer to show that we support them? I used to complain to my college students all the time that this was inappropriate behavior, especially in our daily chapel services. But I could not put my finger on where I heard people do this for the first time until yesterday. It was dancers. When I was a kid, my sister took dance lessons and she would have to perform quite a bit. And the dance instructor and her cohorts would "woo" them on to their best performance ever. I remember thinking they were on crack, not knowing what that was at the time, but sure that these women were on it. Probably, I just thought that's what "sinners" did. I was very judgmental. But can you blame me? They were dancers for crying out loud! I guess it is so much a part of our culture now that I seem to be a fuddy duddy when I don't hoot at someone. If you want me to hoot at you, you better be pretty darn good! I am getting into crazy talk now, so I will leave this wild rambling.

Monday marks 13 years of marriage for my wife and me. I never thought that I would be sitting here in Florida, married this long, with three beautiful, Methodist children. Whenever I think differently, I look at my children and remember God must love me. Even when I do not always like myself, God has been all too gracious to me. I think this is one of the reasons why grace is so important to me today. Without it, where would we be?

And they really are beautiful!