Leap Day Postings Don't Come Around Every Year

Well, it is February 29, 2008. Nothing really interesting to comment on or report other than Leap Day. I spent most of the day teaching voice lessons and giving advice to college students. And I had another funeral. You know, if you change the letters of funeral around you get "real fun." This one was at 6 pm! I have never in my life been to a funeral at night. The family was very nice and grateful for my time. I just told them it was what we do. I had to miss a fish fry at Emma's school, but life goes on.

This weekend I will be singing with a semi-professional choral group in Panama City (Saturday) and in Santa Rosa Beach (Sunday afternoon). I got guilted into it by the director and several of my choir members who are in the other group. I will have a brief rehearsal with them Friday evening and then basically sight read Faure's Requiem and some other choral works. So it looks like a longer than average weekend for me. Fun.

As for other news~ Nothing earth shattering to report. Happy leap day!

Politics of Hope

When did it become unAmerican to be idealistic? When did it become unpatriotic to hope for something better than the way things have always been?

I have not been an avid Obama fan and I wonder about the substance behind some of his idealistic speeches, but I have to wonder why it is that so many attack him on the one thing that he is bringing to a new generation of American voters--hope. I mean, each of the other candidates has raked him over the coals because he is hopeful about changing America. Senator Clinton spoke about how Obama expects angelic choirs to begin to sing and everything will be new again for America. Now, I understand that she is trying to make a distinction between herself and Obama, when there are relatively few differences between their stances on any issue, but I think it is sad when a leader with hope for the future is seen as less than capable of leading because of his hope. True, there are a lot of things that need work--a lot of work, but sometimes people need a little hope in order to face the problems that lie at the door. I think it may be time to be hopeful again.

A couple of Sundays ago we were talking about D. L. Moody and a young minister he met in England while on a preaching crusade. He encouraged the young man to visit him in Chicago, thinking he would never come. Shortly after returning, Moody got word that the young minister was coming for a visit and wanted to preach. Moody, who was going to be out of town during his visit, did not know what to do except allow him to preach once. After returning home, Moody asked his wife what she thought of the young man. She told Moody that the young minister was better than Moody himself. He preached on John 3:16 and focused on God's love rather than the peoples' sinfulness. By the time Moody returned, the young man had been packing in the crowds every night for almost a week never preaching on another text but John 3:16. Moody was alarmed and wanted to put a stop to it, but his wife reminded him that we all know how bad things are. Sometimes we need to be reminded of how good God is and how much He loves us.

I may get grouchy with myself a lot and expect more from myself than from anyone else, but I really want to believe in hope--hope in God, hope for the world, and hope for our nation's place in the world.

"Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow, blessings all mine with ten thousand beside."

I Wish We'd All Been Ready

Sad to say, Larry Norman died on Sunday morning. He had been ill for many years. Larry was, of course, the grandaddy of the contemporary Christian music movement (for good or bad). I used to talk about him quite a bit in my history of church music course at the college. His music was such an integral part of the Jesus movement and so encapsulated his era. He was influential in the lives of other significant musicians of the time including Randy Stonehill and Keith Green. I wish that Christian music had been able to stay free from the commercialism that has overtaken it and remained true to Larry's vision of what modern music with a Christian message could be. He definitely was not a perfect vessel, but he asked the important questions and tried to find answers for his day. And 36 years since "Only Visiting This Planet" was first released, it is still a work to be reckoned with.

Running on Empty (a. k. a. Going Through the Motions)

This last week has been a blur. Thankfully, due to some events in the community that many of my choir members were involved in, several of my regular rehearsals had to be cancelled. It gave me some time off which was nice, but it ended up being put to other uses. Madeline was sick most of the week. We took her to the doctor four times in eight days. Thursday, the doctor wanted to send her to the hospital because her cough was so bad. She asked me how long it had been like that and I told her a week. It was like that when we brought her in the first time. Frustration. I could not imagine taking my two-year-old to the hospital. Fun. She is getting better. In the midst of these trips to the doctor it decided to rain here and never stop. We had a nice little flood on Thursday, so much so that the schools were closed on Friday. So, we had everyone at home, Maddie and mommy sick, and me still trying to get over my illness from the last two weeks. Stressful. Friday was also my father's 60th birthday. Saturday was a wasted day at home, except for our family outing to Sam's. At least church went well today. No coughing my lungs up during services this time around.

I have been thinking a lot about emptiness lately, spiritual or otherwise. This is likely something I should not discuss here, but here goes. I have long worried that very little truly brings me pleasure. Since "music" is my chosen profession, I think most people think it delights me to sing all day long and to listen to music all the time. The truth is, music is a job to me and I get tired of it easily. Granted, I would rather work in music than be a plumber, but I find myself going through the motions because it is what is expected of me. This does not mean that I do not find any joy in it, sometimes, I even find great joy. But I look at people like my father who do music only as an avocation, who seem to derive such great pleasure from it, that it makes me a little sad that I do not get to experience it in the same way.

But there is always this thought in the back of my mind that I am not giving all of myself to anything. I have deliberately chosen a profession that does not require me to think very much. I am creative within a certain frame of reference and never beyond that. I have chosen to be in places where I can be considered forward thinking without having to commit to seeing that completely through. The truth is the college where I gave ten years of my life was not exactly cutting edge (but, to be fair, academic music does not pride itself on being up to date anywhere, especially considering academia's penchant for musical museum pieces). And no church is totally interested in giving up the framework that bestows upon it self-identity as a church (why would we try anything else when we have always done it this way?).

Sometimes it is easier to be a visionary than to be a pioneer. I don't know if this is a bigger indictment on me or on the community that created me.

Some would tell me that it is better to be a visionary even if the vision is never realized. But I am beginning to wonder if the path of unrealized vision is actually a path to insanity. I have been told that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results. Well, what happens when you expect no results? When we expect little or no results, we are not devastated by the lack of change. I am coming to believe that God gives us vision(s) in order to see them fulfilled, and when they go unrealized they become fodder for the Enemy to use against us. And then comes the question: Would it be better to be mediocre, to live without vision than to see the dream go unfulfilled? To never know beyond the surface or never look beyond the next hill? I think it would be worse to have known these things and then to lose them, but I wonder what it is like for those who never know them? Is life somehow easier when you don't have to think about every action or motive?

Funny thing is that, on the whole, I am as happy as ever right where I am. I just wonder if I will ever be happy to just be happy. I spend far too much time inside my own mind and this is likely not the healthiest thing for me. But I know nothing else, and sometimes the Devil you know is better than the Devil you do not know. And, I am on such good terms with my own personal devil that to lose him--I wonder if I would lose myself. And maybe that is the point right there--fear of losing self when that is the one thing that Jesus calls us to do.

Sometimes I hate this blog.

RE: Publicans

How difficult is it for someone who is an encultured evangelical Christian from birth to truly feel a part of this world? I have been thinking about this a lot lately. Evangelicals are taught from the earliest stages of life to come out and be separate from the world. "Don't even do anything that the world might consider fun." How then do we enter a world that we have never really been a part of? For all the talk of the emergent/missional church, and all the literature that is written directed toward making the church more accessible to nonchurched individuals, how does someone like me inact these things in my own life and in the church? No matter how much I try to lose the stereotypical "Christian" look, I still come across as a minister to most people. My only saving grace on this front is that I have this gift that makes people tell me everything about them. It is a real conversation starter.

We talked about Pharisees in church on Sunday because we were looking at John 3. Nicodemus was a Pharisee who came to Jesus by night and you know the rest of the story. I was thinking the whole time: "If Jesus came to us today and told us to do things a different way, we would probably look at him the way Nicodemus looked at Jesus back then. The "are you kidding me? We have always done things this way" mentality.

I find myself in this camp often and I hate to admit it. As much as I talk about change, I loathe it just as much. I am constantly in search of calm, but I rarely get to hold onto it for long. Although, right now, for the first time in some time, I feel an odd sense of settledness. I guess I am really a Pharisee when it comes right down to it. I want Jesus to work within my own religious framework. It seems to work for me. Why can't it work for Jesus?

I am reminded of the parable in Luke 18 about the publican and the Pharisee. I like the word "publican." It sounds so much better than just a "sinner" or tax collector. What was his story? His prayer? "Have mercy on me, a sinner." The Pharisee was just thankful he was not like the publican and started to count the ways they were different. And these areas were all good, religious things that we should do. But whose prayer was heard? Jesus said the publican went home justified before God. "For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted." Isn't this the crux of Jesus' teaching? He came to raise up those who had no voice and to call into question those who think they have it right. What does this mean for those of us in vocational ministry?
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In other news: No significant news to report on the home front. We continue to battle the allergens. I am fine until I get up to sing and then I cannot stop the coughing. I am hopeful that I will be better soon since I refuse to go to the doctor. I have been asked to sing in one of the semi-professional chorales. I want to help out, but my illness is keeping me from committing fully. Today is one of those days that I hate--a holiday without presents and no mail on top of that. I hate not getting the mail. I may have to go buy a magazine and put it in the mailbox. I worry myself sometimes.

Peace

Sick of Being Sick

Well, it started almost two weeks ago when Emma had to stay home from school because she was sick. Then Madeline got sick (a little). And since Wednesday I have been coughing my head off and wishing my head would go back to normal. Living in northwest Florida, there is no off season for allergies, so I end up with a sinus infection about every other month. Upper respiratory issues are a major problem for someone in my business. A parishioner, who happens to do the weather for one of our local television stations, asked me last month what happens when I get sick. He had been sick several days in January and could hardly talk, so it was a timely conversation. I told him I just have to muddle through. I hate being gone on a Sunday, so I did my best today. Though, after coughing throughout the entire middle service, I really wanted to say "Hey people, get me some water. Can't you see I am about to start coughing up blood?" Maybe I just covered it so well that they did not notice. Fat chance. I came home, had lunch, and slept for four hours. I am sick of being sick.

Saturday I spent the day judging district solo and ensemble contest in Panama City Beach. For my first couple of years here, no one in the musical establishment of Bay County gave me the time of day. A lot of it has to do with having no one in the area who knows you are not a crackpot. Well, now it seems I have become the beau at the ball and people are raving about my vocal coaching and what I have done with my choir and now I am being invited to sing or judge or whatever all over. It is nice. And even though I do not feel the need to be stroked very much, it does feel better that people are getting to know and appreciate what I have to offer. I have also become acutely aware of how high school students react to me and my sense of humor. It is wild. It is like I have this instant rapport with them. So, if the world came to an end and I had to teach in a high school, I believe, for the first time, this would not be horrible. Let's hope this does not happen any time soon.

I remember when I moved to Texas from Oklahoma and how difficult it was to start over again. A well-respected youth minister in the Oklahoma City area gave me some wise counsel that I did not follow. In many ways, I was hot stuff in the area Assemblies of God, even as a young person. And he told me that it would be better for me to stay in the area, go to school there, and remain working in churches there because I had built a big platform for ministry there already. Everyone knew me. I liked that, but I still moved away because I thought it was the right thing.

However, right is not usually the easiest avenue to walk down. After a year of being in Texas, I was ready to move "home." Starting over is the worst for someone like me because I hate having to prove myself again and again. What was nice about that move was that I ended up taking the job teaching at Southwestern and that came with an automatic, built-in platform.

Several years ago when I began to wonder if I would spend the rest of my life in the fellowship of youth, I started talking to a lot of different Christian leaders. One such individual was this man from Florida who was part of a group called the Charismatic Orthodox Church. He was the leader of this new church and one of the most intuitive people I have ever spoken to. He talked about the importance of a platform for ministry, that if you do not have one, no one will hear your voice even if you have a direct line to God. He told me it would be better to stay within the place that I was because I had a platform for affecting change in more lives where I was.

I wonder what significance there is in not listening to the greater part of wisdom and leaving good enough (or bad enough) alone? I have often spoken of change as the greatest constant in life. We hear so much about change these days with the Obama and Clinton campaigns. I hear ministers talk about change, as long as it is not only change for change's sake. So change is on everbody's mind. Clearly, since I moved I have had to reestablish a reputation and relationship to a new community each time. And, though I do not care for this process, it always seems to come.

I guess what I am getting at is, God raises us up for whatever task He requires of us and gives us the platform we need to see His will accomplished. I am glad to be in a place of acceptance in the church and in my community and I look forward to this new season and where this may lead. So, two years in and I feel more at home than I thought I might when I left the comfort of the world I had always known and a well-built platform for ministry. I am thankful that He begins a good work in us and is faithful to complete it, whether or not it is where or when or how we might have dreamed it would turn out.

Learning to Lie

"One of the benefits of working at a church is that you learn to lie well." Anonymous

Today marks the second anniversary of my move to Florida and my change of life direction. A times it is still hard for me to believe that this happened; however, it has been long enough that I have begun to forget much of the "feeling" of what was before. I still remember all of the lessons I learned, both good and bad, but just like, no matter how hard you try to remember a loved one who has died, as time goes on, you begin to forget what their voice sounded like. All in all, I still think this has been the best thing that I have ever done for my family. We still have our struggles and anyone who thinks that moving even a good distance from "home" will remove his problems is fooling himself. Problems go with you wherever you live, because they are a part of you, and until you deal with them, no mere change of scenery will make a difference.

I have thought a lot about people who have been influential in my life this week. I remember the last time I saw this man who was a big part of my early performance life. He was the founder of this children's musical group I was a part of back in the early 80s. It was in the safety of the cocoon that he created that I was able to learn to perform and gain some self-confidence that I so desperately needed and could not find at school. He was a great supporter of me "career" and kept in touch with me for many years. He and his wife came to my senior voice recital and I did not see him again for years. Until one day back in 2005 I ran into him again (eleven years after I had seen him last) in Branson, Missouri at a restaurant. I went over to him, by this time 80 years old, and introduced myself. He did not recognize me, but his wife did and through her conversation began to explain to me that he did not remember much these days. I was a little sad, but I understood that life goes on, whether we want it to or not. (Really no point to this story other than nostalgia.)

I have also thought about those folks who spoke into my religious life, and I wonder if they would be pleased to see what I am doing now. Many of them would be very pleased, I am sure. But there are those that I still wonder about, who I fear must think I have become what they so feared back in the day--a Methodist (read: not a real Christian), and a "liberal" (gasp). Of course, to me, these are silly things. And this idea of my being a liberal, as defined by some of my forebears, is more of a moderate than anything else (you know, someone who is interested in things that Jesus talked about). I wonder about the dreams others dreamed about and for me and whether or not this change of direction has been more painful for them than for me. But maybe the person I worry the most about is me?

My internal paradigm has shifted so much over the years and sometimes I wonder if this has all been for the best. I believe I was right to make these internal changes, I believe they were ordained by God, but my definition of what is "right" has changed. And therein lies the frightening part. I am thankful for the more fundamentalist leanings of my early life because I think they helped keep me on the straight and narrow. They definitely gave me a love for the Scriptures and for the Church, but I really do not want to submit my children to the same worries that I lived with every night, concerned about going to hell in my sleep. I guess I want them to know the truth and love Jesus and His Church, but not have all the baggage that tends to be a part of the culturally American evangelical church. Maybe I should get over myself and allow God to dream new dreams for me, even better than I dreamed before. If this doesn't work, I guess I should try to learn how to lie better. After all, I do work at a church.

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In other news, we had the dog "fixed" today. I have relented to keeping the dog, despite the fact that he has been marking his territory in the house and actually bit a hole in the wall. Yes, a hole in the wall. Hopefully, Winston will be a much happier puppy now. But, he still has other things I can have removed if he gets on my last nerve much more. ; )

The Hard Part is Acting Like Jesus

Today was one of those weird Florida days that started out a little cool and cloudy and ended up warm and sunny. This weather probably will not last long, but it is nice that we get some respite from the cold, well, Florida's version of cold anyway.

I took my lunch break and went for a 3-mile run. I am really getting into the swing of this running thing. Then I went to get a little lunch and drop off a jacket (the one from the movies) at the dry cleaners. It just so happened that I passed by one of the biggest churches in town that is in the middle of this huge building project. It is a conservative, evangelical fellowship. They must be doing something right, because they continue to grow and expand their ministries. People are excited to be there and invite their friends. It is great.

Recently, I was watching this church on television and their pastor was talking about the presidential race. Funny, he made pretty certain who he was not voting for without even saying her name. But his most intriguing point was that at least one of the candidates was a postmodernist. He said it with such disdain. And then he went on to explain that a postmodernist is someone who does not believe in any absolutes, that whatever you believe is fine for you. He may have been talking about the presidential candidates, but his subtext was pretty clear: That emergent church you may have been hearing about is just the same--postmodernist mumbo-jumbo from people pretending to be Christians, but they don't stand for anything. I was a little offended, especially since I think most younger people in the world are "postmodernists" and how can we reach people if we close the curtain and pretend that it is okay to leave them alone. As long as they leave us alone, we can pretend to be the church and just send them on to hell where they belong.

I have come to the realization that many evangelicals are okay with certain groups going to hell, you know homosexuals, abortion doctors, Mormons, Muslims, etc. "They are going to hell because of the decisions they have made." Forget the fact that many of them may be going there because of one of us and how we showed the love of Jesus to them (enter picketers: "God hates fags" etc.). It is much easier for us to allow them to go to hell than it is for us to worry about them. Why, when we have more important things to worry about like the color of the carpet in the sanctuary or whether or not we use regular or decaf in the church lounge.

I also believe that there are many evangelicals who like being told they are going to hell, or at least warned about it at every possible opportunity. I think in some ways, this is why many evangelical churches are thriving today. We live in a world of uncertainty, some of which is truly uncertain and some of it is merely fearmongering. Uncertainty helps us to find religion, but all too often it is fear of the unknown that pushes us over the edge. I lived for most of my life in fear of the rapture or that I would somehow unknowingly sin, and damn my soul to eternal hell. I even worked on my weeping and gnashing of teeth. I am pretty good at it and have a side of guilt to spare even today.

Back to my hypothesis that evangelicals like being told about hell a lot: Evangelicals tend to be very anti-Catholic, but they do many things that I would consider Catholic. For instance, fundies think that confession to a priest is evil, because only God can forgive sins (forget that verse in John 20 where Jesus gave the disciples the power to forgive sins). The worst part according to the evangelical mindset is the belief that Catholics can do some "Hail Mary's" and be forgiven, but usually the sinner returns to his sins next week because he can always go to confession and be okay. But consider that in many churches there is an altar call each service for confession and repentance--all good things. But has it ever occurred to anyone that we often like to be reminded of just how sinful we are, then be given the opportunity to confess and repent, and then go about our merry way with never a thought to true discipline and change?

I think most of this goes back to fearmongering or the escapist mentality that many churches teach. I am sorry, and part of me wishes these were true, but these worries get us so far off the path that Jesus laid out for us that I am afraid soon we may not be able to even find the path. Time and time again we spend more of our time worrying about things Jesus never mentioned even one time (homosexuality or whatever) rather than spending any time on the things he mentioned over and over again (poverty, bringing the Kingdom of God to fruition).

It is easy to call ourselves Christians when we think have our theology right and are living lives untouched by the world. The hard part is acting like Jesus.

Fumbling Towards Tolerance

It has been several days since my last entry. I have often thought of things to blog about, but seldom seemed to have the time to put my thoughts into words. Since Christmas, things here have been odd. I have had weeks of paranoia, followed by weeks of great joy, followed by weeks of utter disbelief. But these are normal for me, usually. In the end, the better days have won out. Partly, this is due to my return to an exercise regime. That always makes my mood much better. In fact, this afternoon I ran four miles and burned over 1000 calories. I am determined to lose the rest of the weight I need to lose. I am determined to be sexier at 36 than I was at 26 (which would not be difficult at all).

This weekend has been one of the most child-friendly weekends we have had in a while. Friday, we took the girls out of school early and drove to Destin to see the Hannah Montana movie. I was the only man there. I guess I love my girls more than most daddies. We had a good time, with one major exception. We did not change Madeline's diaper before we got out of the van in Destin (about an hour from home) and, unbeknownst to me, she had wet through her clothes and onto my shirt and dry-clean only jacket. She had a change of clothes. I was not so lucky. I had to go to the restroom, clean my shirt and jacket, and dry off using the hand dryer. Fun. But, all was made better since we stopped for dinner at P. F. Chang's in Sandestin on the way home.

Saturday, we made our weekly trip to Target. We are boring. Sunday, after church, and after my "run" we took the girls to the Lynn Haven park. We decided not to go to the part that has the very lifelike depictions of human anatomy on the playground equipment. It really is a nice park, it is a wonder they have not done something about the anatomy lesson.

While we were at the park, Emma got to play with one of her classmates, who just happens to be Muslim. Although we live in a fairly out of the way place, we have a large Muslim population here. Most of our doctors are Muslim, many from Pakistan. I don't really remember ever coming into direct contact with Muslims until I moved to Dallas when I was 22 and lived next door to a Muslim couple. We lived about a mile or so from the largest mosque in the Dallas area and could hear the call to prayer some of the time. Once we moved to Waxahachie, we never really saw any Muslims, not really. Then we moved to the boondocks of northwest Florida and they are everywhere.

I cannot say how good I feel that my daughter has befriended a girl who is "different." Although she does not wear one to school, she did have a head covering on today. But Emma did not seem to think anything of this. They played and had a good time being girls. Nothing else. I know that one day she will be much more tolerant than I ever was as a child (or am now) because she has come into contact with other cultures and is not afraid of them. I have talked about the struggles of multiculturalism, but when we do not know any different, the struggle seems to evaporate. And isn't it amazing how more fearful we become as we age? Children tend to look at the things that are similar (okay, maybe not at first, but they sure get there quicker than adults do), rather than spending too much time on the things that make us different.

Last week I saw another protest by fundamentalist Christians in front of a clinic that provides DNA service; not an abortion clinic, mind you, just a walk-in clinic. They had their hateful signs about people going to hell and all that good stuff. I must admit I get a surge of adrenaline when I see these people, but this is usually followed by such a strong sense of remorse. I won't labor over this, but I am glad that my children will never know that type of intolerance.

Tolerance gets a bad rap because evangelicals tend to think that tolerance is just another way to say we accept everything the "heatens" do. I think this is just a cop out for not trying to understand people of divergent beliefs or of no belief system. I think it is a way to say "I am so holy because I know the truth." But how often does knowing that truth seem to be enough? Just living "holy" and keeping ourselves from the "world" is considered living a godly life. I am willing to admit that I do not always live the faith out as I should, and maybe, that is worse than having a divergent belief system or only a moral system. I wonder who is the goat and who is the sheep?

I heard a professor talking about one class that she used to teach in which students had to choose a religion to discuss. She said that they always wanted to choose Islam, because they have five major beliefs and it is easy to explain. Christians always had a hard time putting their faith into easily digestible words. This is scary to me, but I have heard this much of my adult life. Evangelicals know what they don't believe in, but what they do believe is trickier. You know, the old "we don't drink and we don't chew and we don't go with those who do."

Maybe, we have distorted the message of Jesus so much that even the "chosen" don't really know what he said. I had a parishioner come into my office and say that they used to believe something very strongly, but then they started really studying it and reading what the Bible has to say about it and they realized that it was not true. And this was a lifelong believer, who was sincere in her faith.

I guess I just want to get back to the basics of what Jesus had to say and what the authors of the New Testament thought important enough to write about, and be done with it. Well, maybe not that part about women being silent in church, or being saved through childbirth, or slaves being submissive to their masters. I'm afraid some of these folks who wrote the Scriptures were people, and not very tolerant at that.