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!

I Guess I Am Not Alone After All

I seem to always feel that I come to decisions in a vacuum, that no one else is going through my life problems or crises. Of course, this is not true, but on the inside looking out it often feels that way. A very alone feeling, and much of this sense of abandonment has fostered the questions I ask on this blog.

For many years I questioned the validity of some things that occur within the Pentecostal~Charismatic movement. As most of you know, I grew up firmly entrenched in the Assemblies of God. In fact, when my first daughter was dedicated to the Lord, we made reference to the fact that she was the fifth-generation of my family (and of my wife's family) to be Pentecostal. The irony in this statement now that we are now members of the United Methodist Church, that I intend to begin the process towards ordination as a deacon in the United Methodist Church, and that we had each of our three daughters baptized into the United Methodist Church does not need to be mentioned.

I am a firm believer in the modern-day manifestation of the gifts of the Holy Spirit and have seen them legitimately purveyed by many wonderful people. The problem I always had was the amount of significance that was placed on the gifts of the Spirit, particularly the gift of speaking in other tongues(a gift that I would place way down on the list of gifts that I would want to use). I used to teach a course on church music history and we would discuss issues like the manifestations of the Holy Spirit in our churches, or more particularly the lack thereof. I would ask questions like "What do we do when we are at a point in our history when the Holy Spirit does not move like He used to?" "Have we gotten to a point where the founders of the Pentecostal (and charismatic) movement never thought we would be?" Of course, my answer was that we were in a place that was beyond the scope of where the early pioneers of the Pentecostal outpouring thought we would be in the 21st century. In fact, I don't think any of them thought there would be a 21st century because of Christ's imminent return.

For these and other more significant theological reasons, I decided several years ago that I would likely leave the Assemblies of God one day. It took some time and the perfect timing, but that day did eventually come. But it was one of the hardest decisions I ever made, because I felt like the Assemblies of God were the only ones who were even close to having it right theologically for so long--and you don't abandon your mother. I also knew that all of the support system I had developed for 30 years would disappear over night for all intents and purposes. You know, when you leave the Pentecostal church to go to a non-Pentecostal, mainline denomination it is nigh unto growing horns and hooves. Many of my old friends are still in occasional contact, but I get the feeling that they are grieved because God moved me in a different direction than they would have wanted. They are glad I am happy, but I have somehow missed the boat or worse, abandoned ship when they needed me the most.

And then there were the questions like: "Do you really want to raise your children in a Methodist church?" My response to one of these kind souls was something to the effect of "How Pentecostal are Assemblies of God churches these days?" "Well, I guess you're right about that, but at least there is the possibility for the Spirit to move." Indeed.

I have now been made aware of a large number of people who refer to themselves as Post-Charismatics. I wish I had known about these folks earlier. It may have made my transition, well not any less painful, but at least a little more comforting. Rob McAlpine will soon publish a book about his struggle in leaving the Vineyard fellowship and the overarching reasons why people leave charismatic fellowships. In a short article for Next Wave E-zine from March 2006 (where was I?) McAlpine says:

In some ways they are very akin to the postmodern people I meet who are open to God but indifferent or hostile to church. These self-described post-charismatics are open to the working of the Holy Spirit, but due to excesses and abuses that they have seen or experienced, they are skeptical and even wary of ministries that are charismatic. Further, there are some who have come to a place where they overtly reject – or passively neglect – the more obvious supernatural workings of the Spirit.

It would probably be more accurate to call these people “post-HYPE”. They are tired of hearing great stories about the good old days, jaded from hearing too many prophecies about the great move of God that seems to always be just around the corner, fed up with exaggerated or even fabricated stories of healings and miracles, and disillusioned with a view of spiritual formation that is lived through a weekly crisis moment at the front of the church.

Broadly speaking, there are four major areas that come up repeatedly as reasons for post-charismatics pulling away from their Pentecostal, Charismatic, or Third Wave roots. The four areas are:

1. Abuses and elitism in prophetic ministry, coupled with a “carrot and stick” approach to holiness that many find legalistic, manipulative, and repressive

2. The excesses of Word Faith teachings (health and wealth, prosperity doctrine) which clash with the emerging generations’ concern for a biblical approach to justice and ministry with the poor

3. Authoritarianism and hierarchical leadership structures that exist more to control people than to equip the saints for works of service

4. An approach to spiritual formation (discipleship) that depends on crisis events – whether at “the altar” in a church service, or in a large conference setting – but either neglects or deliberately belittles other means of spiritual maturation (ie. spiritual disciplines).

I think at some point in my life I have complained about all of these issues. Now, I do not want anyone to think that now that I have joined the United Methodist church that I think the grass is greener on this side of the fence. All churches have their problems, but at least I am not having to pretend that things are going on when they are not. I do not have to stir up passions in order to get people excited enough so that they think the Holy Spirit is moving them. I still want people to get excited about Jesus, I just do not have the baggage that comes along with trying to create the presence of the Holy Spirit (no shaking, or getting fetal in an attempt to appear super-spiritual).

I love the charismatic side of my life and am most thankful for the opportunity I had to enjoy that type of church and ministry. It has opened my eyes to so much, to think bigger about what God can do in the lives of people. But I needed some balance and I think I have found that.

And it is good to know I am not alone in this post-charismatic world after all.

Mistakes and Memories

I had this weird experience last night. We were at church because a children's evangelist/musician was in concert. Oddly enough, he and the young woman who sings with him were from Oklahoma. How odd is it to run into someone from Oklahoma in northwest Florida? It is fairly out of the ordinary--except for people who were stationed on an air base in Oklahoma and now live in Panama City. As much as I try to get away or repress my Okie days, I guess you can never get away from where you came from. In fact, the longer I am away from Oklahoma the happier I am to be from there.

I have been thinking a good bit about growing up in Oklahoma City lately. As much as it seems like a totally different life, so much of my personality and decision making ability is based on my life there, even 13 years after leaving the windy state for good. It is funny that lately my wife and I have been nostalgic for "back in the day" times. We realized last week that next year we will have lived as long after high school as it took us to graduate. When we met, we were 19 years old and our greatest frame of reference came from high school and life with our families. Today, our frame of reference has a lot more to do with each other and our present realities than our growing up life. We do things quite a bit different than either of our respective families, but both of us are thankful that we had predominantly mellow environments in which to grow. We hope to give this type of atmosphere to our children, even if we live a long way from our families.

I admit that most of the memories that have stuck with me are not the most joyous ones. I remember an episode from my high school that was to this day the most painful growing experience of my life (and that is saying a lot). I learned a lot about grace that day, though I did not know that's what was happening. I guess the little grace that was shown to me that day would speak to me in such a way that I would never want to do that to anyone else. I think most of the folks I am around on a daily basis think I am a bleeding heart, always wanting to extend mercy for the tenth or eleventh time and this is not completely true. I am all about justice, I just rarely want to be the one to extend justice to anyone.

As I have mentioned often here, this blog is a means to help me understand myself and my world better. I heard this quote from James Joyce's Ulysses that startled me and put a cap on my feelings about learning life: "What incensed them the most was the blatant jokes of the ones who passed it all off as a jest, pretending to understand everything and in reality, not knowing their own minds." I never want to be this person, who has to pretend to get the joke or to understand the newest trendy thing. I do not want to make that mistake.

Speaking of mistakes, Joyce also wrote: "Mistakes are the portals of discovery." How true this has been in my life. I often wish that we could learn without the pain, but the pain builds in us a character that I would never trade. Thank God for the pain. I mean, how could we ever serve as counselors to those who are dealing with real pain without having suffered through our own?

So my question is: How have your mistakes been a portal of discovery for you?

And one other thing . . . Do you know what the difference between and Arkie and an Okie is? An Arkie has one mattress tied to the roof of his car. But an Okie, he has two. ; )

Peace

A Year in Cyberspace

Well, this week marks my one year anniversary in cyberspace. I think I have learned a lot about myself in these 18 months of change and relocation. This blog has been an important part of dealing with these changes. It has definitely been cathartic, if nothing else.

We had a quiet day today. I got up as usual and ran on my treadmill, though not quite as much as I have been running most mornings (only 35 minutes today). I am getting used to taking my herbal meds. My wife and I took our girls out for lunch and then we went and looked for Parisian posters and the like at Hobby Lobby. I am planning a Parisian party for my 2nd Annual Fall Choir Music Reading Session that is coming up in a couple of weeks. I have already gotten some big visuals of the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe. It is going to look like a prom. I think my people will enjoy it. I continually have to come up with new things now (which is really good) because I have already used a lot of my B. F. ideas (Before Florida).

Speaking of before Florida, we went to a bookstore today and for maybe the first time since I have been here, I had a wildly familiar, homey feeling. It was like for once, I could not remember what it was like to live somewhere else. Huh. That this feeling seemed oddly appropriate was what caught me by surprise. Thank God for those "he hath made me to forget" moments. I told my wife before we moved that home was wherever she and my daughters were, and now it is true.

We may try to take a short little vacation this next week since it is the last week before my wife goes back to work teaching. I remember how much I enjoyed this time as a student and as a professor, the anticipation of new learning. It has been weird for me to be out of the loop of teaching, but soon enough I will be back in the classroom, if only on a part-time basis. I am sure it will be fun, even if I never really read the textbook.

The picture is one of my little Mad who is 20 months old today. She was only 3 months old when we moved, so she is as close as we will likely get to a native Floridian.

So my question is: What have you learned about yourself over the last year? I hope it has been a year of adventure and awakening. Mine sure has.

Peace

My name is Brandon and I am a NERD

I was reading this article in GQ Magazine about getting over trying to be cool. It was funny. This man was 39 years old and still worrying about the latest bands or pretending the Fellini films are interesting. I spent a good bit of my life pretending to like things because I thought they would make me look cool. The fact of the matter is that no matter what I do or what I listen to or how I dress, I am still a big ol' nerd. Now, don't get me wrong, I am a very witty and artistic nerd who has exceptional people skills. I guess you might call me a well-adjusted nerd, but a nerd nonetheless. This "struggle" has come back to the forefront of my mind since our student ministries pastor has asked me to attend the National Youth Workers convention later this fall. Am I cool enough to go?

After a while, it just gets tiring to keep up the charade of faux coolness. I mean, it was something when I was teaching at the university because my students would bring me the latest bit of whatever and that kept me in the loop. Now, recently I have begun to work with the under 18 crowd and will soon be teaching at the community college (I got word that my class has made for the fall, so there is no going back now) so I may become cooler by association, but that is not really my own coolness now is it? Like many of my posts, this ephemeral desire to be cool and my resolution that it is too fleeting for me to worry about, goes back to my issues with being liberated from the fears that I have carried with me most of my life that I now feel I have abandoned. Praise God for that!

Speaking of coolness by association, have you heard about this study that says obesity may be socially contagious, that if you are around obese people you are likely to be obese yourself and think that one can be fatter than they should be. I am in the wrong profession because most ministers are overweight. I think most people think I look thinner than I am because they expect their ministers to be on the heavier side of healthy. And on that note, I have discovered that my blood pressure is higher than it should be. A couple of days ago, I took it at Target and it was high. Now, it is more moderate, where it usually is, but still higher than it should be. So, I have joined the crazy herbal folks and I have started taking an herbal supplement that is supposed to be guaranteed to lower your blood pressure. We will see. If I grow a third nipple or an eye on the back of my head as a result of my homeopathic remedy, I will let you know. I must admit that I am frustrated by this turn of events. I have a long family history of heart problems, but really thought they would bypass me. And, besides all that, I have lost 65 pounds, drink a gallon of water everyday, exercise for 45 minutes a day, and very seldom use salt. I guess we cannot get past our genetic code. I hate genetics.

Back to being a nerd: I have decided to embrace this part of my life. I admit I like to read books about archaeology and Biblical history. This alone is enough to make me a nerd. When I plan a vacation or trip, I plan it so that I can go to a good museum rather than a good beach (now, this one is not as nerdy because I go to the beach every week or so now). I would much rather watch the History Channel than ESPN (I could care less about any sport). I read the New York Times every morning. Does this make me a nerd? I prefer a trip to the bookstore than a trip to the mall. I used to try to care about sports, but that has become way too tiring to keep up and I believe this makes me a nerd. I would much rather have a conversation about politics (a little left leaning) than a conversation about NASCAR and this makes me a nerd.

So I am coming out as a big ol' nerd, one who is content to be the life of a very witty, well-spoken party. Vive le nerd!

BTW~I am NOT a dweeb or a geek and there is a big difference between a nerd and one of these poor, unfortunate souls. I do not speak Klingon or Elvish. I do not dress up like a hobbit or a Vulcan. No pocket protectors here, thank you very much. Though there was a time when I though mispronouncing words in foreign languages was funny (and I should never have mentioned this because it only solidifies my claim to nerdiness).

So, my question is: Are you still the coolest thing on earth or have you embraced your inner nerd. If you have embraced your nerdier nature, I have some lovely adult contemporary music for you to listen to.

Peace

Loving Our Mother . . . Church

I am concerned by recent declarations and decisions made by Pope Benedict XVI and where he is leading the Roman Catholic Church. I want to say unequivocally that I love the Roman Catholic Church. Whether we like the things she has done, she is the mother church of all Western churches. We would not exist without her. But lately the Pope has been making some other than kind comments about other churches.

Several years ago, Pope John Paul II seemed to be very interested in ecumenicism. He spent a good bit of his time making overtures to Lutherans and Anglicans and historic trips to Orthodox countries in the name of church unity and peace. This was one of the most significant things to come out of the Vatican II Council (and the use of a revised, vernacular Mass liturgy). I was moved to see the leader of the Greek Orthodox Church pray the Lord's Prayer with the Pope--something that was considered nigh unto a heresy for Orthodox believers. At least it was a start. But as the Pope began to age, he began to become more traditional in his statements about Protestants, calling them "lesser brethren."

Now, Pope Benedict has gone against these great decisions of Vatican II. A month or so ago, in an attempt to appease a very traditional Catholic group, he distributed the Tridentine (Latin) Mass to all priests and encouraged them to use it if there were enough parishioners who wised to to have a Latin Mass celebrated in their parish church. Prior to this ruling, bishops were given the right to determine whether or not the Latin Mass would be used. Now any priest can decide to use it or not. Now, I enjoy the Latin Mass. One of my fondest Christmas memories was when I was in college and sang a midnight Mass on Christmas Eve. It was all in Latin and wonderful. But I can't imagine doing this every Sunday. At the time I read that the Pope would allow the Tridentine Mass to be celebrated, I was intrigued. Then it got worse.

In an alarming move, Pope Benedict made a recent statement that (1) only Catholics are true Christians; (2) other Christian denominations are “not true churches”; and (3) all non-Catholics lack the “means of salvation.” So, we have gone from "lesser brethren" which I could live with, to completely outside salvation. This is not only alarming, but very disheartening for someone like me who has taken so much from the Catholic faith. I am very ecumenical in my faith, having taken from many traditions--Roman Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican, Pentecostal, and Methodist. I used to teach a course on church music history and we studied the liturgies of all of these traditions. It was amazing how much Scripture is involved in each of these liturgies. The Spirit of the Lord is truly in these places where His name is glorified and His Word spoken. It is just sad that the Pope has taken the "mother church" back a thousand years. It is as if the Reformation never happened. And even worse for Catholics, it is as if Vatican II never happened.

I am trying to understand all of this and I think that the reason we say we are the only true church or that we become more dogmatic about the least little thing, is that we are insecure about where we are going or what our place in the evolving world will be. You know, the Church of Christ and other Fundamentalist groups have long preached that they are the only true church. But the truth of the matter is the church is wherever we gather together in Jesus' name. I guess I am naive enough to believe that a time will come when the Church will be one again. I wish it were today, but it looks further away today than it did just a few years ago.

So my question is: How do we pray for the unity of the holy, universal Church when we have enough problems with unity in our own fellowships?

BTW, I think that Benedict has the best style of any recent Pope. I mean, the Holy Father wears Prada and Gucci for Pete's sake. I love the hat!

Martyrdom, or Just Plain Martha

Servanthood for servanthood's sake has been continually on my mind lately. Since I am often reflective, intentions become important. I think that most of the time my intentions are good and I do my best to consider what other peoples' needs are and try to meet them before they ask. I do not expect people to do work that I can do myself.

Well, this past week we have been talking a lot about Mary and Martha at church. Its the same old story, Mary sat at Jesus' feet and Martha got upset that she was not helping her prepare the meal. Jesus, of course, commended Mary for seeking the higher purpose of worship rather than the menial tasks of her sister. Did it ever occur to us that what Martha was doing was what was expected of her? Funny thing is, I think I try really hard to do the things that are expected of me. Is it a bad thing to take care of the business of ministry?

My wife and I play this game I like to call "Who's the bigger martyr?" She will say something to the effect that she does this, this, and that. And I say well, I do blah, blah, bliddy blah. We both are really busy people (we work and have three small children and try to have a life as well). I think we just want for the other to acknowledge the other's contribution to the greater good. I mockingly refer to this as martyrdom. You know, doing something by myself that I could get others to help me with, but refusing help because it makes me a bigger martyr. But is this servanthood or just another way to make myself look like a servant? I guess it is about intentions.

My pastor spoke on Mary and Martha this past Sunday and mentioned that though we often look at Martha with disdain, she was the one who sought out Jesus. She was the one who invited Him into their house. She was seeking the greater good, but got caught up in the business of ministry. How much did this sound like my good intentions? Unfortunately, quite a bit. We like to look at Martha or Peter or Thomas and say, "I would never act like that if I had the opportunity to be with Jesus." But the fact is, we can all become too busy about the Father's business to see the Father.

So my question is: How can I know if I am a servant or just a "martyr"?

Beautiful Disaster

I was saddened to read Saturday that Tammy Faye Bakker Messner had gone to be with the Lord after an extended battle with colon cancer that had spread to her lungs. I do not remember a time when I did not know who Tammy Faye was. I always thought she was the biggest nut in the world. In an earlier life, I thought she was probably the Devil incarnate and she and her husband would get theirs. Funny thing is that when they did, in fact, get theirs I felt no sense of just recompense. And the further I get from those long ago days (twenty years ago now), the more compassion I had for her and for the manner in which the PTL ministry fell from grace. It is amazing how far from God we can get when we are sincerely trying to do what we think He wants. It was not too long ago that I mentioned the passing of Rev. Jerry Falwell and there must be some sense of irony that these two seminal figures of the late 1908s televangelism scandals died within months of each other.

What I have learned is to respect those I do not understand. I never got Tammy Faye or her overly emotional way of life, until I saw her on "The Surreal Life" with the likes of rapper Vanilla Ice and porn star Ron Jeremy. It was fascinating to watch her with these people who were by no means believers. She was gracious and compassionate and completely honest about her faith. I think she was a shining light to these people of what Christ in a person can do. She was also open to the gay community who embraced her as an icon. She said something to the effect that God made us all from the same dirt. It is amazing how powerful words can be, but even more powerful an act of kindness, with no expectations or conditions. Though most people could not see past her makeup, she really loved God and loved people.

We had a funeral for a man that I have only known for 18 months. He was probably the first person I met when I moved to Panama City. He sought me out to introduce himself and to offer his services. He told me that if I ever needed anything, he would work to get it for me. That if he couldn't raise money for the music ministry of the church in a short period of time, he was no good to me. Now, this man did not really attend the church all that often. His wife was there every Sunday and they both came to the fellowship supper we have on Wednesday evenings, but I rarely saw him at church. Now, the funny thing is, this man embodied what is good about the church. In fact, he was the church to many people that he met. Now, he smoked like a stack and he drank for a lot of years before he asked the Lord to help him quit, things that most evangelicals would look at and call sin. But he was compassionate and kind, and he would tell you the truth which is a gift to anyone. He overtipped waitresses and hugged people in restaurants. He showed Jesus to a lot of people. He was the church, a new definition of church, and now he is a part of the church triumphant.

So my question is: How can I better demonstrate the love of Christ in a way that is not biased by my own preconceptions of church or what Christians ought to be like?

My prayer is that I do not merely have good intentions to live the Christ life before the world, that I would not want to be a servant to demonstrate just how much of a martyr I can be, but that I would truly, undeniably surrender to a love that will not let me go.

BTW~Have you heard of Jon McLaughlin? He's not the coolest thing I have ever heard. Plays the piano and sings. Kinda like Jon Mayer, but a much better voice and some great lyrics. He's a Christian, though most of his songs are not about God. So, if you are looking for a "Jesus count" it would be really low. ; )

Complaints for the Week

I am having an interesting week. Two people in the church community have died, and several are gravely ill, so it looks like I will have a few funerals next week. I have a wedding rehearsal Friday night and a wedding Saturday morning. I worked from home Monday planning music for the fall and Christmas. This is always something I hate, but once I am finished I can relax and just make minor changes as I go. I guess I really have an administrative gift. I sure do wish that I had one of the interesting gifts, but I guess God knows what He is doing.

I got my hair cut short (for me) on Tuesday. Problem is, I colored my hair a couple of weeks ago and since I got my hair cut, some of the color is gone, especially in this place on the back of my head that is gray. It looks like I walked into a paintbrush. I have had it since I was 17 years old, but it has gotten bigger recently and I have decided I do not like being old so I colored it. Now I have to decide what to do about it. Seems like it will be aggravating to keep coloring it. I have gone on far too long about something ridiculous.

I went to the beach with my wife and children on Wednesday morning. I know that I put a good bit of sunscreen on, but I still got sunburned. I am a little uncomfortable, but I will get over it. I love the white sandy beaches that are so close to my home. I go to the beach and wonder how I could have lived anywhere so far from the water for so long. Although, I do wish it were not so hot and humid (already in the 90s). I am fearful of August and September temperatures.

I had to move out all of the sound equipment we use in our contemporary service to prepare for this wedding on Saturday and that is one of my least favorite things to do. I hate it. I wish we had a place where I could leave these things up and not bother with them every other week. I stubbed my toe today in the choir loft moving chairs to prepare for the string quartet that will play for the wedding (they are accompanying my musical selections as well). Remember, I wear flip flops a lot (BTW, I have upgraded to some very stylish Kenneth Cole "sandals"), so when I stubbed my toe I did it for real and now it is a little bruised.

On Wednesday evenings I have been leading the general Bible study on Biblical patterns of worship--mainly defining worship and praise and what our responsibilities are. This has been nice and has reminded me that I did love to teach once upon a time. I had forgotten how easy it was to get up in front of a class and just go for an hour. I guess I will see how much I still like teaching for real this fall when I start teaching a music appreciation class at the area community college. In fact, tomorrow morning I have to go and pick up my course materials and be finger printed to begin working next month. (I have never been finger printed before that I recall).

This will be the first time in 18 months that I have taught a college course and I guess I am a little nervous. I am not concerned that I will connect with the students and I am not worried about the subject matter. Frankly, I think I could teach the course without a textbook. I guess I am just concerned to be concerned. Again, anytime there is a change in my life it gives me cause for reflection. I hate being reflective. Every little thing has to mean something. It goes back to that thing about not believing in blind luck or something. Every thing that happens to us is for a reason to teach us something and I hate it, but I am always looking for the teaching moment.

Being reflective also makes me prone to a touch of depression now and then. But, I think for once in my life I have a handle on this one. I have been very commited to "running" (or at least my definition of running) each morning and that has made me feel better. And there is less of my fat self than there was a few months ago, so I have to remind myself that when I eat right and exercise I feel better physicaly and emotionally. But even more so, I am trying to allow God to teach me without having to go through the doubt phase. This is a tough one for me, but I am working on it. You know, the "Be anxious for nothing" bit. Now, I think doubt is a good thing at times. We do not need faith for something that cannot be doubted. A lot of this has to do with the downsizing and mellowing that my move to Florida has been. And I guess my biggest concern about teaching again is that it will lead me down a path that I do not want to follow. However, I feel that this time around the teaching will not be about identity for me, but for fun and a little extra money. When your identity is not wrapped up in what you do, I think you are a healthier, more well-rounded person. A whole person.

So my question is: What is it that keeps you from being a whole person? And why haven't you done anything about it? You might want to look in the mirror.

When It's Time to Change

I have decided that most of us are not inclined toward change of any kind. I feel that I have been through a good number of changes over the last year, most of them I have discussed on this blog, so I am not afraid of change. But that is not really being inclined toward change, is it? I mean, though I thrive on change and enjoy the blessing that comes as a result of my willingness to allow God to change my life, my circumstances, my level of commitment, I really cannot say that I like it.

And why is it that when we see people changing, we become concerned about their direction or what they're doing. For instance, today I went to visit a woman who was dying. That's a pretty big change for her and for her family. The family is having to readjust to life without mom. But they will have to adapt in order to survive without her. Visiting with this family reminded me of this time five years ago when we lost my wife's mother. It was one of the most difficult experiences I have ever lived through. I had never really lost someone that I was close to, and the devastation I felt from her loss was more for the fact that my children (at the time, child) would never know her. But the sad truth is that I was upset for the change it would bring in my own life and in the life of my wife. People say you get over the loss of a loved one and they are liars. We never get over these losses, but we must learn to adapt and live on. And having now experienced the loss of some of the most significant people in my life, I have a better insight into dealing with the grieving processes of those in my congregation. As I have said before, I have served in more funerals since I moved to Panama City than I did in the rest of my life combined.

Another example: I was walking by my pastor's office door and noticed him cleaning out his office. My first question to him was "Are you trying to tell me that you are ready to leave?" (No) "Are you dying?" (Not today) Why is it that we assume that change is bad? Even dealing with death has its benefits. We learn so much from the grieving process about ourselves and about our faith. We discover whether or not we believe we will be in the presence of God when we die or that if we believe we will see them again.

Change has been a constant companion to me in my adult life. Growing up, leaving home, and moving on--all of these are things that we have to do in order to continue to grow. When we stop changing, we start to die and I think that is one of my biggest concerns for the church. We are more concerned about keeping things or programs that no longer speak to anyone because they are dear to us. But we long stopped asking if they were dear to God.

I am teaching a Bible study on worship patterns and one of the main questions I ask is "If worship is truly for God's pleasure, then why does it concern us if we do not receive anything from it?" If it is truly about God, then our desires are really irrelevant. But the problem always comes back to us. True worship causes us to change. We can get away with pretending to live a Christian life, but we cannot fake being a worshiper because this means that we have to allow the Holy Spirit to confront us. And that means we have to change. That means we have to actually put our faith into action and not just talk about it.

So my question is this: "If we are not able to worship, then are we actually just in the final stages of a cancer that will inevitably spiritually kill us?"

Raising the Dead~with a Side of Servanthood

"The church is like someone who is in a coma. We know they probably won't recover, but we still get excited when they squeeze our hand." I heard a pastor friend of mine say this last week and I have thought long and hard about this. I know this was a comment made of frustration, but I wonder how far from the truth it really is. Working on a church staff, we often get excited over the least little thing. If there are 50 more people in the 8:15 service, we think we need to start a new service to facilitate all of the people. If one person comes down to the front to pray, we are having revival.

Now, I truly look for the positive in most things. This is a difference from my former life that I am continuing to cultivate. But I do think we do not give our congregations the benefit of the doubt on a lot of occasions. We tend to think they will consistently disappoint us because they are not spiritual enough. I am finding that I learn a lot from listening to just what God is doing in the lives of my "less-than-spiritual" parishioners. It makes me remember that only God can judge the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.

So, the question is: Are we dead yet? And if we are dead, how do we give the church the Sixth Sense treatment?

Several months ago I heard this in a sermon: "You know you are a servant when you are treated like one and it does not bother you." I do not usually remember sermons. I hear at least three or four on Sundays alone and by the time the last one comes along, I am really tired and done. I think I am a little A-D-D when it comes to sermons. My mind is constantly in motion, just ask anyone of the guys I work with, and it is hard to turn this off when I am supposed to be listening to the sermon. But this one stayed with me, I guess because it cut me to the core. I like to think of myself as a helper.

I took a spiritual gifts inventory(thanks Tim), and my strong suits were helps, administration, and creative communication--so I like to think I am a servant. I work in a church for crying out loud. But the servant test came a couple of weeks ago when I found myself tearing down tables and chairs to prepare for a youth service. Yes, I work with "youth" now and this is one of the more rewarding parts of my week. But the work that Sunday afternoon was taxing and came after I had already been at church for eight hours. I found myself wanting to complain that the tables had not been taken down by the folks who were "supposed" to take them down. Don't we have people to do this kind of thing? Don't I have more important things to do than to tear down tables and set up chairs so that a bunch of kids can have a quality worship experience without having to worry about setting up for themselves? I quickly came to the realization that I did not. No matter how I try to convince myself of something different, if I ever get too good to clean the church, then I am not a servant worthy of my hire.

So the question follows: How long does it take to become a servant and not realize you are one?

The End, 2012 Style

Have you heard the latest rumblings throughout the New Age world? Well, the latest to come into mainstream society's radar at least. It seems that back in the heyday of Mayan culture in Mexico, their leading prophets predicted the ending of an age or an apocalypse or whatever you want to call it that would culminate in December of 2012. So for the last 30 years a dedicated few have been spreading the news that the end was near and now they say it is barely 4 years away.

I always like a good end of the world story. It was fun growing up in an apocalyptic world where every event in the Middle East or every rumbling of war was another signal that the end was near. Now, I believe that Jesus will bodily return to the earth and reign over us all, its the rest of the Left Behind stuff that I am not so sure about. I just think that everyone likes a good apocalypse or the idea that all the bad folks in the world are gonna get theirs in the end. I think it is significant that the Mayans, centuries before they ever encountered a European person, had apocalyptic tendencies. I guess this means that this type of end times scenario strikes a chord in the hearts of people the world over and throughout all times.

I wish that we could lead people to a knowledge of Christ's ability to radically change their lives, rather than having to hold the end of the world and hell over their heads. Now, I believe in hell (no thank you, Bishop Pearson), but I think that living for Christ ought to make our lives better and that should be a good enough reason for us to follow Him. I think the church for too long has held hell over peoples' heads, and thereby miss the mercy that Christ wants the church to show to the world. It is hard to be salt and light, when we are policing the world. I think the problem is that most people really do not want to commit to Christ. They want to come to church and feel bad about themselves and get right with God again, so they can go out and do the same thing again next week. It is an endless hamster's wheel. If it were not for hell, I am sure there would be fewer folks going to heaven. But that's really sad--to serve Christ only to miss hell. I think that misses the point of doing justice and loving kindness and walking humbly with God.

I also think it misses the point that we are to work out our own salvation with fear and trembling. I mean, how much easier is it if your church gives you a list of things you can and cannot do. Only wear this type of clothing, only cut your hair if you are male, don't go anywhere the world might be lurking. I think that is one of the reasons why the more fundamentalist and Pentecostal denominations continue to grow--because they give clear cut answers. One of the things I like most about being a Methodist is that there is more of a free exchange of ideas and more tolerance for ideas other than one's own. This is good and bad. Good in that we can discuss issues without branding the other a heretic. Bad in that sometimes the only common ground we find is in agreeing to disagree. And sometimes it simply means that rather than coming up with a statement of faith, we tend to leave that for another day.

Well, I hope the countdown to 2012 is a fruitful one for you. Martin Luther said that if he knew the world would end tomorrow he would plant a tree. Maybe I will do the same. And hopefully, it will bear much fruit.

Peace

Painting in Broad Strokes

I have always thought of myself as a detail person. If you have visited my office (either in my church or at the university in my prior life) you would think that I am organized beyond measure. I do like order and I like everything in its place. But I am finding that in the church, there are always those who like order a little better than me. I guess in some ways I have always known this, but I am only now allowing myself to admit that I am a broad strokes painter. Although I am conscientious of detail, my main goal is to make sure the end product is successful, whether this is a musical presentation or a class or whatever. I realized this more fully the other week when I was confronted by a parishioner on Sunday morning (the worst possible time) about an issue that was really insignificant to me at the time. Each Sunday, I arrive at my church about 6:30 a. m. and am fully engaged in preparations and worship ministry until our three services are finished around noon. So, my time is very limited to actually deal with people and their issues. How sad is that? The time when I have the greatest opportunity to make an impact on people, my most significant point of contact with most of my parishioners during the week, I have to worry more about the greater good of the whole than of the one. I guess it is the nature of the beast.

Well, the story goes I really did not have time to deal with the situation, and it really was not important to the full exercise of worship for that Sunday morning. I was frustrated with this person for bringing this non-issue to my attention at my busiest point of the morning, but I realized then and there that there are a lot of things that I do not worry about because they are too small for me to deal with. I think most church leaders tend to be big picture people and we need those in our congregations who remind us of the minutiae, even if we consider these people all too negative in their approaches to our ministries.

I am reminded of a guitar player from a church I was involved in almost ten years ago. I had been asked to visit the church and consider joining the staff as a part-time worship leader. The worship ministry was fairly large with a ten-piece orchestra besides the guitars, drums, and piano of the worship team. This guy was one of those who was always worried about every little detail and at the time I just was not a detail person when it came to worship music. Frankly, I did not think it was very difficult to perform and I did not need very much practice to make my part presentable. When you spend your life making your living from music, your approach to it is very different than if you are not a "professional." And, as you recall, I am a snob and so any music that I do not have to practice is not difficult (to me). That is not to say that I think we should have classical music in all of our services. I mean, how accessible is that? Granted, my choir performs a good bit of classical literature, but this is usually for very special traditional services. I digress.

I think that guitar player hated me because I would always tell him not to worry about this or that. I don't think my words were consoling to him at all. I sure had a lot to learn about leadership and coming along side someone and bringing them along with you. I think I still have a lot to learn about that.

Again, I think it all comes back to broad strokes or the big picture or whatever you want to call it. People in ministry tend to see the whole picture better than most of our congregations, but we have a hard time explaining our vision in a way that others can grab hold of it. I am still working on toning myself down enough that I do not lose people along the way. I have gotten good at this on the traditional side of my musical life (choir anthems and hymns), but I am still working on the "contemporary" side of things. I admit that I get bored quickly with new worship music and need to continue to learn new songs in order for these services to be refreshing to me. But, I also need to remember that it is not all about Dr. Keaton and I have the responsibility to lead my congregation into deeper worship, even if is with the same 20 songs. If they can learn to worship, then the song repertoire does not matter.

Dear Lord, help me to hear your voice, even in the grating sounds of those I do not want to listen to. It may be that your still, small voice comes from the most annoying person I know.

Peace

P.S.:This is Madeline and me in front of the only Del Rancho restaurant in Texas. It made me think happy thoughts about Oklahoma and I very rarely do that, mainly because I have blocked most of it. Props to anyone out there from Oklahoma. Somebody's gotta live there. ;)

The Kind of Faith Hillary Has

It has been interesting to watch this election cycle get into full swing. Over a month ago, when I was in New Orleans, I happened upon a CNN interview with the leading Democratic Presidential candidates discussing their faith and how this plays out in their political lives. Truth be told, I was impressed with all of their answers. Barack Obama talked of coming to faith as an adult. John Edwards talked about how prayer and faith became especially important during the trying times when he lost a child and when his wife was diagnosed with cancer. And Hillary Clinton talked about teaching Sunday school and the importance of learning forgiveness. Clearly she was talking about the missteps of her former President husband and the very difficult and publicized (dare I say politicized) events that followed. In a nutshell, she stressed that one does not get through a situation as devastating as that without faith. Listening to her, I felt for her and respected her all the more.

It is interesting that for most evangelicals, Hillary Clinton is anathema. She is the great evil that Revelation speaks of. In a recent article in the New York Times an evangelical Christian referred to the faith like Hillary's, a "faith that believes in everything but God." I must admit that a few years ago I would have been in that camp. But I am beginning to understand how God works in our lives a little better and I am learning a lot about dealing with my own preconceived notions and prejudices about people. What is striking, and completely hypocritical of most of us, is that we want to judge others by their actions, but we want others to judge us by our intentions. In other words, we want for people to look beyond our human foibles and see how God is at work in our lives, but we cannot give the same grace to anyone else, especially someone in the public eye as often as Hillary Clinton.

In another recent NY Times spread, evangelicals were complaining that the Republican field was not conservative enough, and the candidates who were conservative were not really viable, electable candidates. Most are one of the following: pro-choice, or pro-Iraq war, or in favor of gay marriage or whatever. The most significant thing to me was that the evangelicals (in Iowa, at least) felt it would be better to have a Republican, even if he was not ideologically conservative, than to have a Democrat at all. I wondered, should the Devil run, would they vote for him rather than for Hillary?

Personally, I don't love any of the candidates, but I am willing to admit that the Republicans just don't get it this time around. And, maybe we need a change of course or a different set of eyes looking at some of our problems to find the answers. Maybe these answers will be God's answers if we are smart enough to see them and He just might work His will in this country through a Democrat, one with a faith that may not match ours, but may just be as authentic as ours.

How would you vote? How would Jesus vote?

My name is Brandon and I'm a Snob

Well, this last week my parents came for a visit. We just saw them about a month ago, but this will be the last time we see them until Christmas. We had a good time taking them to all of the touristy sights around where we live. Since we live so close to the Gulf of Mexico, we took them to the beach and on a tourist cruise of our bay area. Besides going to the beach, we do very little that could be construed as touristy in our area. I guess when you live in a place that is filled with "attractions" they become a part of the scenery. I must admit that I still love the sight of the water. Maybe someday it will not captivate me so much.

I came to a realization about myself over the course of last week's events: I am a snob. I guess I have always known this, and part of the reason I became a United Methodist as opposed to another denomination is that I would be more likely to be around people who are like me. What an indictment against myself that statement is! I don't know how many times I pretend that I am apostolic and want to venture into unknown territory, the truth is I would rather stick to my own. I never really felt at home in the Pentecostal church, partly because they did not take too kindly to educated folks or people who pushed them to think some of the time instead of running with their emotions. I remember some of the most educated people I knew who would act like they did not know a thing when they got up to preach. It was all about making sure that the congregation knew they relied on the Holy Spirit for their sermons rather than on good Bible study habits, etc. As if preparation is not a spiritual gift worth developing. I guess one of the scariest things for me as a music professional was that it was becoming all too clear that the only thing the Pentecostals wanted in their worship leaders was a 20-something, scruffy looking guys with flip flops and a guitar. Flip flops aside, I do not fit that stereotype, but it was becoming more prevalent each year. I always wondered if this trend was truly an attempt to be more conscious of the culture or if it was a way to pay a younger, less experienced person less money. So in my mind, though I believe God was in my decision to change denominations, I felt like there was nowhere for me to go and remain in the Pentecostal fold . . . and I was only 33 when I left.

I have always envisioned Methodists as people who were more educated than Baptists or Pentecostals, but less liturgical than Lutherans or Catholics. And since I have always been a structure guy, it seemed like the natural evolutionary step for me. Ms? Betty Butterfield calls Methodists "poor man's Presbyterians, or Episcopalians who got tired of squatting, or Baptists who had gone back to drinking and did not want to be judged. Methodists are just typical." I don't know that I completely agree with this, and since the quote came from a drag queen . . . I digress.

Okay, so I am a snob. This truth kept coming back to me when I was out showing my parents a good time this past week. Well, they do not call northwest Florida the "Redneck Riviera" for nothing. (I mean, we have a convenience store where you can get beer on tap. What's up with that?) After taking our little cruise out to one of the islands just off the coast, I asked my mother if she knew why they called it the "Redneck Riviera" and she laughed, because they were thick as thieves. I am sure that most of these folks were wonderful people who work hard and love their families. I imagine many of them make more money than I do (I am in "the ministry" for Pete's sake). But I could not feel a greater sense of distance from these people than I would if you dropped me off in Saudi Arabia dressed like Michael Jackson (think burka, not "Beat It"). And this is where I come from really. I just do not understand this culture at all. I do not get NASCAR. I do not understand why anyone would continue to proudly display the Confederate flag on their trucks, or T-shirts, etc. Every time I see that flag, I want to say: "The war's been over for 150 years and you lost. Get over it." And how offensive is this to the large African American population we have in our area? I just do not get it.

And more significantly, I do not know how to communicate using their language. Sometimes I notice people just stop to translate what I am saying to them. For example, while I was on this touring ship, I was standing in "line" at the concession stand to get the entire family a hot dog and some bottled water. Well, it ended up that I got to the front of the line before someone who was really in line longer than I had been. I told the woman at the counter "I believe this gentleman was here before me" and pointed the man next to me. He looked puzzled and I told him to go ahead of me. Either he did not understand me, or he was so shocked that someone would be kind enough to be honest, even when that meant I would have to wait. I thought it was the latter and I felt bad. Anyone who would be in such a hurry to get a hot dog is in a hurry indeed. Have we lost all sense of decency and decorum in America that when someone is courteous it does not compute?

Now, don't get me wrong. I love my church and the ministry I perform there. But, again, the people to whom I am ministering are not the type of folks who mostly inhabit my neck of the woods. Remember, I chose a church that was like me and where my family would feel most comfortable. What does this say about me?

I am really feeling the challenge to get out of my comfort zone again and try to understand my culture better. If I am ever to be a true witness I need to learn how to speak the language of my fellow northwest Floridians. Maybe this is a greater indictment of the church in general since we train our children to speak a language that no one understands and to socialize only with those who believe as we do and go only to those places with ties to our churches. Fear is a great motivator, but I am looking for that "spirit of power, and of love, and of a sound mind" that the Apostle Paul promised us would replace our spirit of fear. Maybe it is easier to live in fear. At least we know what that feels like.

Peace