To Be Part of the Ocean

I'm sitting at the soundboard at the Front Porch, a concert is underway, and I just finished the last pages of Mitch Albom's 1997 book, Tuesdays with Morrie.

It's gotten a lot of acclaim, this book has. Everybody who reads it speaks highly of it, as a heart-wrenching account of an author's renewed relationship with a favorite professor in the midst of his ALS death throes. It's a true story, and it wants us to know that you're not ready to live until you're ready to die.

Personally, until the very end I wasn't that touched. No doubt it's well-written, sensitive, and thoughtful. But I considered putting it away several times before I reached the end, because all its platitudes about life and love and relationships and facing the end seemed a little cliche to me. A little overplayed... lacking poetry, poignancy, or both.

I think there may be a reason. Having spent my whole life in the Church, the subject of death is not entirely uncommon. Even if it's not a pleasant topic, it's nevertheless quite prescient to the church's theology. And for all its failings, somehow the Church did manage to instill in me a strong impression of the importance of love, relationships and living selflessly.

I was forced to consider the perspective of those raised without those insights. Those who may bristle at the raw consideration of death, and who have few opportunities to realign their thoughts to what is eternal. For them, I suppose I'm not surprised that Tuesdays with Morrie would be such an impactful book, and a truly beneficial one at that.

These were my thoughts at the half-point. But like I said, as it reached the end I started to feel differently. One passage that forced me to stop for a moment was a story told by the old professor himself. It was about a wave riding along the surface of the water, enjoying life. Until he notices what's happening to the waves ahead of him, as they crash violently on the shore. When the wave begins to panic, the next wave over comforts him by the notion that he is not a wave at all, he is part of the ocean.

As I said, this made me stop. Does it seem as silly to God for a human to fear the death that lies ahead, as it seems to a human for a wave to fear the shore? I've read a little about Buddhism lately, and their concept of "no-self". It is the process of getting rid of self-thoughts, to understand that "self" is an illusion, and that it is our membership in the universe, in humanity, in family, that really matter.

Don't think I'm buying into all this wholesale, but it is certainly stretching me.

And the whole topic brings me back over and over again to my nearest experience with death. About a year and half ago, just after our third wedding anniversary.

My wife Christina had an uncle who was essentially her father. Andrew Myers was brilliant, and proportionately eccentric for being brilliant. Few people have ever possessed greater potential. He was a doctor, and in his younger years gained a quick reputation in the ER for instant diagnosis. It was almost a shining. He could look at you, and tell what was wrong right away.

Although I never experienced this firsthand. My only hospital experience with Andrew Myers had him on the other end of the stethoscope.

As I said, it was about a year and a half ago. Andy's wife had just passed away six months prior, and he took a long downhill slide as a result. We all worried quite a bit about him... One might expect a bout of depression in his situation, but something else was bringing his health down drastically.

It didn't take long for his doctors to discover the cancer. Lung cancer. Our guess is that he knew he'd had it all along, but wanted nothing less than to be a cancer patient, subjected to wave after wave of destructive radiation. So he did what he could to alleviate the pain, and live his life while he could.

Fast-forward to the hospice room. When he was diagnosed, there was no doubt things would progress quickly, so there were few surprises that led us to this place... Christina and I together at Andy's side, or a fraction of Andy, anyway. The man we knew as a tall, robust individual was now a wisp of a man, with pure white hair and cheeks sunken severely beneath the oxygen tubes.

By many standards, I live a pretty colorful life. But it's also been fairly sheltered. In other words, until this point I'd never really witnessed death. Never really been there in the moment. And honestly, I could not have asked for a more precious introduction to humanity's greatest fear.

Andy had been mostly comatose during his short visit to the hospice, punctuated with short periods of looking around, or eking out a word or two. But in his final day, there was little to speak of. Christina and I stayed nearby, talking to him, holding his hands, and sharing warm conversations with friends and family who stopped in to visit.

The hospice nurse was nothing short of astounding. She was one of the most compassionate, encouraging and informative people I've ever encountered in the health care field. She told us how it would end. And we watched as it all unfolded.

His breathing became slower and slower, degenerating into intermittent gasps. And several other symptoms of passing matched the predictions perfectly.

But one blessing came to us that we didn't expect. Despite Andy's steady and unresponsive descent into darkness, his soul found the strength right before the end to open his eyes, and his mouth, as if he were witnessing something truly amazing. We held his hands a little tighter and smiled sadly to be part of such a breath-taking moment.

Then he closed his eyes again, to finish his breathing. The gasps got more and more sparse, and began to lift his chest as the effort became more and more intense. Then his chest would collapse, his chin would rise, the air would rush in sharply, and his body would rest for five seconds before it happened again. Then it was ten seconds. Despite their intensity, the breaths were thinning, and finally one gasp stopped midway, before Andrew Myers' body descended heavily into his bed. Christina and I squeezed his hands and looked at each other with emotions that don't fit into categories.

The nurse had asked us to inform her the moment he passed away, so I gave my wife a kiss and walked out into the hallway. I didn't have to walk far, because she was right nearby. Like I said, she was a wonderful nurse. She told me that we could take as long as we wanted with him before they began preparing his body for the funeral home. I questioned her about it, and she said some people take hours.

I returned to the room, and Christina and I sat and talked gently about Andy... trying to recall some of our happier moments with him. It seemed strange, mentally, to have casual conversation while a corpse is within arm's reach, but it also felt right in a way. I think we felt his presence more now, than we did when he was alive but comatose.

We prayed, and remarked to each other how relieved we were to know that Andy was with his Savior, whom he'd trusted in life. For although we mourn, we don't mourn like those who have no hope.

As I watched, and absorbed this new experience, and as I sit here to write out the story behind it, I am still a wave on the sea. I am moving, always darting in and out, never losing sight of the rocks ahead of me. But I am also part of the ocean, part of the larger picture that now holds Andrew Myers in the depths of its peace. Sometimes my heart can accept this, and sometimes it feels overwhelmed.

But despite the chaotic, the foreboding, the unknown, I can rest assured that in Christ, no fear is necessary. The sting of death is gone.

Rise

into a forgettable space
we enter our feet, our knees
some other parts
feeling rather beige, off-white
like the walls

into a utilitarian space
we bring our raw materials
lugged about throughout the week
the month
don't ask
it's unspoken

there is a layer of shimmering humanity
that hovers close to God
and soaks up his light
refracting it a billion ways
it stands for his honor
and falls for his glory
it shivers with anticipation
at every resounding word

but here we meet
far below
looking up
knowing what could be
frowning at the distance between

so in spite of ourselves
and because of ourselves
we take one step forward
we take one step upward
and rise


+

West Bank Choppers (and Gougers)

Things are getting a little crazy... not a good environment for avid blogging.

I'm very busy at my new job. Things are great... in fact, a little too great. I get a bonus for each hour I spend doing graphic design work for our clients. And I have so much design work to do in the next week and a half that I'm not sure if I can finish it all. It's like the nets that were so full of fish they were breaking.

And our Sunday Worship Gatherings are packing out. A similar problem, I suppose. But the whole idea of what we're doing on Sundays at the Front Porch is to have an intimate, relational, comfortable environment for people to open up and feel like they really matter to each other. But when you start running out of chairs and start feeling tempted to set them up in rows instead of around tables, the very success of the effort can be its own demise.

Last Sunday I talked about the Sermon on the Mount. I made a couple of points that I don't hear bandied about much:

1) I don't believe Jesus was "preaching" to the crowd. I believe he was retreating from the crowd, and instructing his disciples. By "disciples" I mean not just the 12, but those who had made some sort of sacrifice to follow him. I think if you read the accounts carefully in both Matthew and Luke, you will see why I believe this. But I think it's important, because it explains why the Sermon on the Mount looks more like a list of instructions, and less like an inspirational oratory.

2) I think I have an actual explanation for one of the weirdest things Jesus ever said, in Matthew 5:29, 30... "If your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off... if your right eye causes you to sin, gouge it out... Every commentary I could find says basically that Jesus was emphasizing to us the true danger of sin, and the seriousness of avoiding that which can lead us into it. But that just sounds lame to me, like the answer of someone who doesn't really know, but has to act like they do anyway. My point is, Jesus just got finished talking about committing adultery (or murder) in the heart. He is teaching us that all sin really occurs in the heart, and what our hands or our eyes do is just an outworking of sin, or a manifestation of sin. When he talks about your right hand causing you to sin, he's referring to what he said earlier about murder, and how the sin is actually occurring in your heart, not in your hand. Same thing with the right eye, and adultery.

Jesus is mocking those (the Pharisees, primarily) who try to blame their sin on their appendages, suggesting that if they just removed those body parts, they could be free of sin. Thus he re-inforces his antidote to legalism by reminding us that sin occurs in the heart, at the deepest part of ourselves, where only God can truly judge us.

Later on that evening, after the Super Bowl, my friend Phillip (who heard my shpiel earlier that morning) asked me about my assertions on that passage. He said he believed that Jesus was also saying that we should try to avoid the things that may cause us to sin.

Although I do believe it is wise to understand what things bring temptation into your life, and to structure your life in such a way to minimize temptation (I do this myself) I cannot believe that this was even one of Jesus' points in Matthew 5:29 and 30. And this is why: Jesus takes great pains to contradict the legalism of the Pharisees, and one of the greatest Pharisaical blunders is to mandate the creation of giant hedges around the law. Meta-laws, if you will, that purport to erect an insurmountable shield to God's actual laws. This is taking the wisdom of avoiding temptation to a ridiculous extreme, that creates a tremendous burden on people who are simply trying to live their lives.

Despite this burden, the common people actually admired the Pharisees. They were it. Nobody needed to be told to try and avoid temptation... the true sin in that culture was to believe that there were humanly possible ways to be sinless and perfect, and the result was a truly insidious type of legalism, that deserved all the ridicule Jesus could muster.

I can actually image the raucous laughter that might have ensued as Jesus mimed out the cutting off of a hand, or the gouging out of an eye, as if such self-mutilation (also referenced by Paul, although of a much more... ahem... personal... variety) could actually bring about righteousness. Jesus took their error to its natural, logical conclusion, and exposed their absurdities. And he actually did it many times throughout his ministry.

Jesus would like to thank you for reading... you've been a wonderful audience. Don't forget to tip your waitresses.

Some Thoughts on Merge

I'm gonna tack on another post about Merge to share with everybody some of my thoughts about it so far, and thoughts from a few others who have come multiple times. Two days ago was our fourth Sunday to do Merge in the morning. Turns out my neighbor Andrew is a great jazz guitarist, and he paired up with me to lead the music. He also plans to do it next week. After the Thankgiving holiday, I plan to add some hand percussion, and hopefully some female vocals.

The discussion was about the 10 plagues in Egypt, and how Jesus shows up in the baking of unleavened bread, and the slaughtering of the spotless lamb to save the Hebrews from the Angel of Death. And we had a comfortably large group, not the biggest so far, but probably a tie if you don't count out-of-towners or one-time visitors from other churches.

My thoughts about counting:

I'm finding it harder to stick to my commitment to not count people. I've done well not to count them during the gathering, but afterwards I tend to rehearse my memory of all those who came, and count them up then. In a way, that's not so bad, because it forces me to try to remember each individual who came, and remember their names if I can. As long as I can do it that way, I don't see a problem with counting. But if it gets too large for me to do that anymore, I think we should just guesstimate. I don't want us to do any actual counting, or to entertain questions like "So what are you runnin' these days?" My desire is to share our estimates with those who would honestly like to understand the atmosphere of our gatherings, and what they're like, but not to share them with those who want to gauge our "success" by numbers.

My thoughts about the name "Merge"

I'm thinking very strongly about getting rid of it. As it is, people know they're coming to the "Front Porch" and many of them also know they're coming to "Merge". But I think very few people have any idea what "The Core" is. I believe we're causing confusion. Chances are, within a few weeks, we'll just start calling our Sunday morning thing "The Core Worship Gathering" to simplify things for everyone. Maybe "Merge" will "re-emerge" at a later time, who knows.

Now I want to share some other people's thoughts. Jessica is one of my favorites, because she has come all four times since we began it, and next week will be watching the kids. She's a student at Missouri State. Nate is awesome as well... I met him at the Drury University Student Fair, and he's hung around pretty consistently. We've also jammed on guitars, and I'm determined to get him in on the music part of our worship gatherings soon.

From Jessica:

Yeah, I definitely love Merge. It has been cool to be there from the beginning of the Sunday morning gatherings. I really feel like it is genuine community, and I am all about that. I think the atmosphere is really great, and the people that I invite always really like it.

My friend that I had with me this week was Larry. He was one of my first friends when I came to college. He is a really great guy. He plans on going to seminary after he graduates and serving as a missionary in Japan. He is so passionate about Japanese culture.

But, yeah, I really like Merge. I think it is really inviting for everyone...believers, non-believers, people who aren't sure what they are. I am learning a lot from the discussions. I love the series that we are doing right now. Isn't it great to...you know...actually talk about JESUS, not Paul or Moses or Jessica. I just like it a lot. I also really like the fact that different musicians come in every week to help. I think it is great to see different people, and it may help from some people getting burnt out by doing it every week.

Ryan's response: I agree that it's great to talk about Jesus. But at the same time, I like to talk about Jesus in relation to everything else. I like to talk about Jesus AND Paul, about Jesus AND Moses, or about Jesus AND Jessica, if you know what I mean. As far as the music goes, I do hope it stabilizes at least somewhat. But the variety is definitely good, and I hope we always have some of that.

From Nate:

I really like it. It seems to be a lot more personal than other places that I've gone to. I also like how open ended it is: the different "modes" of seating and involvement, the fact that we can add our own comments, and just the atmosphere itself create a truly personal and worshipful experience. One thing that I've been thinking about are the discussions. I know we're covering the foundations and history of Jesus, but that's not really what is important. And, when one focus of such a worship gathering is to draw non-Christians to a deep and meaningful relationship with Christ, and when just the Old Testament and such are presented to them, all they would see was a history lesson and not the salvation that was established later. I know you talk about Jesus in them, but not really specifically about what he did. Not to say that these messages are not uplifting and purposeful, but they tend to seem more like a bible study and not like a outreach tool. I don't know, just sending some thoughts.

Ryan's response: Thanks also for the critique about the discussions. The Old Testament is a tough nut to crack, and I want to help people a little bit by showing them how Jesus shows up in it. But I definitely won't claim that I'm knocking it out of the park. We'll just be in the OT for one more week, and then we'll be in the gospels for three or four months.

Snippets from QAF

Last night's QAF Session was truly amazing. We had between 7 and 12 people there, as there was always some coming-and-going.

The quotes that follow are not guaranteed for accuracy. That, and privacy, are two reasons I don't credit the source of each quote. Some quotes are actually mash-ups of the comments of two or three different people. At one point, I name the speakers A,B,C, etc. to help explain the flow of conversation.

The central question was "Who is God?", but as you'll see, the discussion ranged pretty widely.

"I don't think you can prove God doesn't exist. I don't think you can prove anything doesn't exist. I could say 'There's no such thing as unicorns' but unless I could scour every inch of the earth at once, I couldn't prove it."

"I'm an atheist. I don't think God would let things get this bad."

"Maybe it's our fault things are so bad. We Americans could just give up ice cream and use the money we saved to completely eliminate poverty in the world."

"If life somehow spontaneously evolved from non-life, it would also have to immediately develop a complex system of reproduction in order to continue life."

"God wanted to create creatures that would love him. But love doesn't mean anything unless there is the free will to not love."

"Gender is a physical designation. God is not physical, he is spirit. God chose to spend 33 years as a male person, and be confined to that for awhile, but if God were confined in his essence to a gender designation, then he could not be the creator of gender. If that's the case then someone else created gender... and that creator would be the real God.

A: "I don't know who my dad is... I don't believe in God."

B: "Maybe those things are connected."

C: "I think my dad is perfect, but I think God is an asshole."

B: "That blows my theory."

D: "My life was perfect, but then I woke up and some doctor was telling me that I was paranoid schizophrenic. I have excruciating headaches every night, but I don't think God is an asshole."

A: "I do!"

E: "I thought you didn't believe in God."

A: "I guess I do. But I don't like him. I don't like him for making you schizophrenic."

"People pre-judge me because I'm a double minority. I'm black, and I'm a woman. Everywhere I go I try to present myself in a way so people don't judge me by their stereotypes."

"I'll never understand why God went through that kind of pain for my sake. I'll never understand how he could take the most powerful bond in the world... the love between God the Father and God the Son, and rip it in half to save me."

"It's like that Petra song... 'Would I die for a person like me?'"

The Discovery Sessions

Within a few weeks/months The Core plans to start a small group to study and discuss what it means to follow Christ, at the most basic level. Chances are it will meet Wednesdays at the Front Porch, from 7:30 - 9:00 pm. The best title I can think of for a group like this is a "Discovery Group" since I want both newish believers and seekers to feel welcome, and be able to benefit. I'm posting here my preliminary ideas for the content of each week so I can get your thoughts about the material, and about whether the word "discovery" is kind of cheesy, or "modernistic". The reason the content consists entirely of questions is not so I can be the "answer man", but so that people can really add to their perspectives to the whole experience. Although we will accept, and even embrace, uncertainty when it seems spiritually appropriate, Biblical truth and certainty will not take a back seat.

Week 1 - What is the Bible?

It might seem a tad fundamentalist to start right off talking about the Bible, but unless we establish it as a foundation for our spiritual knowledge and dialogue, everything else we talk about will be based on mere human ideas and theories.

-Who wrote it?
-What part has God played in its authorship/compilation/translation?
-What do we mean when we say its authoritative and inspired?
-What is the role of the Old Testament in our lives? The New Testament?
-What parts of the Bible should we consider "binding"?
-How does the story of God play out from Genesis to Revelation? What does that have to do with my own story?

Week 2 - Who is God?

To embrace mystery and uncertainty right out of the gate, we will talk about the Trinity. The Trinity defies modernistic, scientific analysis, and lays a good groundwork for our discussions about God. If we could analyze him, and fully understand him, then we should worship someone else. But he has revealed enough to us for us to have a relationship with him.

-What is the Trinity?
-Did God really create the universe? How did he do it?
-How is God like people? How is he unlike people? Is God male/female/neither?
-What are the essential characteristics of God? Can he contradict himself? Can he limit himself?

Week 3 - Who is Jesus?

The entire Discovery Group series is for both believers and unbelievers. Although no one will be pressured at any point into making a personal decision, week 3 will be a prime opportunity for unbelievers to seriously consider surrendering their lives to Jesus.

-What does "Son of God" mean?
-Why is it important that Jesus was born to a virgin? Why is it important that he never sinned?
-What did Jesus do on earth? Why did he have to do it?
-What did Jesus teach? Why?
-What's with all the miracles and healings?
-Did Jesus really raise himself from the dead? Why is that so important?
-How did Jesus' culture (Israelite) play into his life and mission?
-What is Jesus doing now? What will he do in the future?
-What does Jesus expect of me? How should I respond? What is Baptism?

Week 4 - Who is the Holy Spirit?

All denominations believe in the Holy Spirit, and the vast majority agree about the essential nature of the Holy Spirit. Controversies will be lightly discussed, but not debated. For example, tongues, baptism in the Holy Spirit, and the femininity of the Holy Spirit.

-Is the Holy Spirit a "thing", or a "being"? A "he", or a "she"?
-What is the Holy Spirit's relationship to the Father and the Son?
-What role did the HS have in the Old Testament? The New Testament?
-What role does the HS have today? In my own life?
-What does the "baptism of the HS" mean? What's with the speaking in tongues, and other strange things?

Week 5 - Who am I? What is humanity?

In order to round out an understanding of the God - man dynamic, we need to understand our place in creation, fall and redemption.

-What were we created to be?
-What happened? Why is everything so terrible now?
-What is God's plan for the human race? What is salvation? What does it mean to have a relationship with God?
-How do I fit into all this? Does God have a specific plan for me, or the same for everyone?
-How do I exercise my talents and passions? What are "spiritual gifts"?
-Why can't I stop doing things I know are wrong?
-How do I deal with other people when they hurt me?
-Does Jesus promise to "fix" my life?

Week 6 - What is the Church?

Week 6 will emphasize the universality of the Church--that all who believe, and are covered by the blood of Christ, are brothers and sisters in him, and thus, members of the same Church. The local church will be introduced as a practical manifestation of the global Church. Unity will be emphasized (through love, not compromise) and divisiveness will be condemned.

-What does the word "church" mean? What does "Body of Christ" mean?
-Was it really God's idea?
-What is the "true" Church? Why all the denominations and divisions?
-What are the main purposes of the Church?
-What is the leadership supposed to look like?
-What are we supposed to do when we get together? What is Communion?
-What is my obligation to the Body?

Week 7 - How should we relate to the World?

A new believer often needs a period to separate from the worldly culture around him or her. But there comes a time when re-entry is essential. And understanding of the nature of this relationship is vital to make sure a believer becomes an influencer to the world, and not a spiritual victim of it.

-What are the Two Greatest Commandments?
-How do we go about loving our neighbors as ourselves?
-What is the Great Commission? Am I supposed to be a missionary?
-How do we go about making disciples?
-How do I spread Jesus' message without being a bigot/jerk/nuisance/failure?
-How much of the world's culture should I reject? How much can I integrate into my faith?
-What can I do about social injustice and suffering in the world?

I Got Soul, But I'm Not a Soldier

This Sunday we're having our last Sunday-evening Merge gathering (starting October 28 it will be weekly, and take place on Sunday morning.) And for the occasion, I wanted to present a message/discussion called "I Got Soul, but I'm Not a Soldier", about basing our spirituality on Christ's love instead of a defensive, combative religion often presented to us by a majority evangelical sub-culture. When I really looked at the lyrics of the song by The Killers entitled "All These Things that I Have Done" I was amazed. I'm going to comment on them intermittently. Here goes...

When there's nowhere else to run
Is there room for one more son
One more son

Here's a man who's reached the end of his rope, and is asking to be let into God's family. Although he doubts if he'd be accepted as a child of God.

If you can hold on
If you can hold on, hold on
I wanna stand up, I wanna let go
You know, you know - no you don't, you don't

He's in a state of paradox. He wants to hold on to his life as he knows it, but even more, he wants to stand up and let go of everything, you know? No... you don't know.

I wanna shine on in the hearts of men
I wanna mean it from the back of my broken hand

There's an overwhelming desire to escape the darkness... not only to live in the light, but bring that light to other people's hearts as well. There's also a longing for authenticity. To take what he knows (the back of his hand) even though it's broken and shattered... and to let that be his platform for vulnerability and healing.

Another head aches, another heart breaks
I am so much older than I can take
And my affection, well it comes and goes
I need direction to perfection, no no no no

His desire for redemption comes not only from his own condition, but from the pain he sees all around him. But he doubts his ability to really help, because he's old and worn out, because his love is inadequate and inconsistent. He's crying out for some guidance and support.

Help me out
Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You know you got to help me out

This is the desperate prayer of a man backed into a corner... begging God not to ignore him.

And when there's nowhere else to run
Is there room for one more son
These changes ain't changing me
The gold-hearted boy I used to be

He used to be a good kid... probably raised in Church. But after "falling from grace" he hasn't heard any advice yet that's worked. All promises, no delivery. Some people have tried to return him to the ranks of Christianity... to recruit him back to the team, but what they're saying just doesn't ring true.

Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You know you got to help me out
You're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down

Still conflicted, he wants Jesus to come in and rescue him, but he knows that Jesus can't doing it without bringing himself down. In other words, his Savior will take his place at the guillotine.

I got soul, but I'm not a soldier
I got soul, but I'm not a soldier [x10]

With an actualization of his own spirituality, he is proud to say he has a soul. He realizes that he's worth something after all. And yet, he refuses to join the ranks of the "us-and-them" subculture that raised him. Now that he's aware of his soul again, this time he wants to use it to bring love, joy, and peace... to "shine on in the hearts of men".

Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You know you got to help me out
You're gonna bring yourself down
You're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner
You're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down

Over and in, last call for sin
While everyone's lost, the battle is won
With all these things that I've done
All these things that I've done
If you can hold on
If you can hold on

He's redeemed... he's rescued. Sin's grasp on him is fading fast. But the duality remains. Everyone around him is lost, but he feels a personal victory. He's no soldier, but he's won a battle in his heart against the multiplicity of wrongs in his past. And now, finally, he's got something worth holding on to.

A Post-Modern Righteousness

C.S. Lewis is always good for a painfully simple, yet completely overlooked insight.

If there's one thing that our culture likes to fight, it's the idea of commandments, righteousness, or thou-shalt-nots. Fortunately, I think post-modernity is starting to grow out of the idea that rules are stupid and useless, and there's no such thing as real truth. That proposition is just flat-out self-defeating (as many Christians have clumsily pointed out over the past ten years, either with some cliche question like "so there's absolutely no absolute truth?" or by stealing somebody's iPod and scolding them when they get mad.)

So by now I'd say that most people are okay with the idea that there are some good rules out there. But the thing is, they have to be reasonable. You have to be able to explain to them in very practical terms why such-and-such is forbidden, or mandatory, or whatever.

And in some ways this is an abandonment of the spirit of post-modernism. It is a concession. Not because post-modernism is essentially relativistic and mushy, but because such intense practicality, and such a mathematical approach to morality, is essentially modern, and did not really exist at all before the Enlightenment.

Some Christians would like to see post-modernism defeated, or extinct. Personally, I have a lot of hope for it. I think it has a certain latent power to re-align our cultural mindset to biblical constructs, and repair the damage done by the Modern Era. Not by itself, of course, but it is a good container for such a movement, in my humble opinion.

So what's a post-modern to do with all these rules that Christianity tries to impose on us? Do we retreat to modernity and filter out those which seem to have no practical, logical bearings? Or do we appeal to spirit, to love, to mystery, to antiquity? Take a look at this verse ...

"If you love me, you will obey what I command." -Jesus speaking in John 14:15

And this is where C.S. Lewis comes into it. In his science fiction book entitled Perelandra (which I blogged about a few weeks ago) the main character, an earthling, is talking to the female lead, who is like the plant Venus' version of Eve. She is being tempted by Satan, in the form of another earthling, to disobey God's only commandment to her. Much like in the story of Eve, this monolithic Venusian Don't does not make any real sense. There is a statutory consequence (death) but no logical consequence. And because of this, she begins to consider disobedience an option.

But the main character, in a stroke of true post-modern beauty, pleads with her to respect the commandment. He says (to paraphrase), "You have said that you love your God... and that to live in obedience to him is a joy. But what is love when it's easy? If he commanded you not to cut off your hand, you would gladly obey... but not necessarily out of love. You would obey because you clearly understand the consequences and pain that would result from disobedience. Therefore, genuine love does not occur. Perhaps God has given you this commandment as your only real opportunity to love Him. Because trust only comes into play when you don't understand things fully for yourself. And love is dormant until you make a choice that is unpleasant or illogical."

Some people do what they want because they want to do it. And I actually respect these people... at least they're honest. But so many who claim to follow Christ reveal their true motivations by shaping his words to fit their lives, and not the other way around.

Some have tried to throw off the shackles of modernity by rejecting rules entirely, and discovered the futility of such an approach. If you are one of those people, now preparing to click your shackles back in place, let me plead with you to reconsider... to make the wild, irrational move of putting actual trust in God, even when you don't see the reasons behind his requirements.

This, to me, is the heart of righteousness. Not to be show-offy or pious... but for your heart to be so broken with the love of God that you are completely at his disposal. Righteousness rings harsh to a lot of people, because the prefix "self-" has been unwittingly applied to so much of it. But I want to be the kind of righteous person that never causes the word "righteous" to arise in people's minds.

I just want people to think, "Man, he sure does love God. Apparently he really loves me, too." That's righteousness.

Omniscient

You say you're omniscient.

You say there's nothing that escapes your notice... nothing you cannot understand.

At one point maybe you decided there were a few things outside your experience, so you came down and did that, too. Now we're supposed to find complete comfort in the totality of your purview... that no matter what we find to complain about, you've got it whipped.

You say you've suffered far beyond the trials of any mortal human. I'll grant you that. Your capabilities are infinitely higher than mine... your pain is infinitely more painful, and your joy infinitely more joyful. How can I argue? Why should I compare myself to you at all?

Because you started it.

You made me in your image. You said that you could relate to all my temptations, because you've been there. You, sir, have invited the comparison, and now I feel like it's falling apart.

Because you don't know what it's like to screw up.

Sure, maybe you do, in some impossible realm that will forever escape the grasp of my consciousness... some alternate universe where something is beyond you. But how can that be anything but nonsense to me?

You say you are the "Friend of Sinners", but I imagine a homeless man being befriended by the president of a seminary, or a leper by Mother Teresa. I'm thankful for the kindness, but sometimes the gift feels like cold comfort. Yay... I have a pity friend.

Because ultimately, I am pitiful. Even in your most pitiful moment you were heroic, earth-shattering, compassionate, praiseworthy. Your most pitiful moment was, indeed, your most beautiful moment.

But when I am a loser... I am just a loser. When I make a fool of myself, I am just a fool.

So what do I want? To pull God down to me? To shrink his head? To yank my rescuer out of the boat so I can drown in good company?

If I wasn't pitiful when I started writing this, surely I am now.

Birthlight

We are all born once
into the pale glow
of fluorescent tubing
and flickering darkness
bathing the foreheads of
mad scientists
in lieu of OBGYNs.

Some are born a second time
into the sunlight
and everything is different.

None of Your Beeswax (or, Waning Eloquent)

Take heed, ye blog readers, to sacred Scripture, and let us hear the words of the Lord.

"Take a sharp sword and use it as a barber's razor to shave your head and your beard. Then take a set of scales and divide up the hair. When the days of your siege come to an end, burn a third of the hair with fire inside the city. Take a third and strike it with the sword all around the city. And scatter a third to the wind. For I will pursue them with drawn sword. But take a few strands of hair and tuck them away in the folds of your garment. Again, take a few of these and throw them into the fire and burn them up. A fire will spread from there to the house of Israel."

Thus saith the Lord.

Let it not be said that I, Coreman, preach only vain philosophies and intangible precepts. Let it neither be said that I brush away the commands of Almighty God for the sake of poetic figuration or "cultural relevance". As I once observed so crudely adhered (and crudely phrased) upon the fender of an automobile, "God said it; I believe it; that settles it." Indeed, I adhere to a literal reading of scripture, much like that store-bought automotive paraphernalia.

Therefore, in the interest of obedience to our Sovereign Lord, I will lead by example. I will find a sword at some local goth emporium, then shave my face and head with it. I will then burn some, scatter some, and tuck the rest away, God be praised. And I expect that you, my loyal blog readers, if you be loyal indeed, will do the same.

OK, that's enough of that. Hopefully you've gathered that I'm not making fun of those who read the Bible literally, but I am challenging you to realize that not every Bible command is directed at every Bible reader.

One pet topic of mine that serves as an example of this is Tithing. It seems to me that the only time you'll hear the word "Malachi" mentioned from the pulpit is in a sermon about giving to the church (typically delivered during budget shortfalls.) The passage is Malachi 3:6-12, and you don't have to read it very carefully to see that God is having a conversation with the "sons of Jacob", otherwise known as the Israelites. They had been in the practice of ignoring God's command to bring tithes and offerings into the storehouse, and God was angry (though even in his anger, he promises amazing blessings if they will turn and obey.)

Is there still something very important for us in 2007 to learn as we read this passage? By all means, yes. Can we glean spiritual truth from Ezekiel 5:1-4, quoted above? Definitely. God's Word is eternal, and no matter how much or how little is written to us, it is all written for us. On the matter of giving, it is easy to see from the entirety of Scripture that God wants us to be generous, both sacrificially and joyfully. Isn't that enough? Why should we have to perilously re-contextualize an otherwise obscure passage to make people understand why they should give?

I've got another favorite example of latching onto a scriptural command that doesn't apply to you. When I think of it, I am reminded of the old beer commercials where the guys in a bar are divided into two factions, bellowing back and forth "Great taste!" and "Less filling!" Except in this scenario the men and women are split down the middle of the sanctuary, orthodox synagogue style, shouting "Wives submit to your husbands!" and "Husbands love your wives!"

When I read the third chapter of Malachi, and see in verse 6 where it says, "So you, O descendants of Jacob..." I immediately think, "OK, the stuff coming up is addressed to the nation of Israel, and is probably not intended to be a universal precept. So when I read it, I should not automatically presume that God's precise intention for my life is contained here, but I should ask him what he wants to teach me through this."

This is what should happen when you read Ephesians 5:22-28. If you are a man, and you read verse 22, which begins with the word "Wives," you should realize that this command is essentially none of your business. And women should do the same with verse 25 and following.

Just imagine if those of us who are married took that energy we normally spend wishing and complaining about how our spouse isn't being obedient to God, and re-focused it on actually being obedient ourselves?

What if we husbands could manage to just plumb forget how our wives are supposed to treat us? In fact, let's do it right now. (I would make a similar admonition to you ladies, but I plumb forgot what I was supposed to tell you.)

Normally at this point, I would close out the post with some pithy one-liner, but all I can think about is how I'm supposed to love my wife as Christ loves the Church.

Um, so yeah... love your wife. If you have a wife. If you are a wife... you're on your own, I guess. Also if you're single. Sorry.

The Nooma Sessions: 001 - Rain

Our small group, called "Re:Group" has begun watching the Nooma video series in our Sunday evening gatherings. I plan to post here each week with a description of each video, from Nooma's website, plus a review of the video, and an overview of the discussion that followed our viewing. I hope you enjoy it.

Things don’t always work out the way we want them to, or the way we think they will. Sometimes we don’t even see it coming. We get hit with some form of pain out of nowhere leaving us feeling desperate and helpless. That’s the way life is. Still, it makes us wonder how God can let these things happen to us. How God can just stand by and watch us suffer? Where is God when it really hurts? Maybe God is actually closer to us than we think. Maybe it’s when we’re in these situations, where everything seems to be falling apart, that God gets an opportunity to remind us of how much he really loves us.

Intended Audience: Anyone and everyone, but particularly helpful for those struggling with doubts about God's goodness.

Review: As you can see, this is the first Nooma video, and it gets the series off to an excellent start. It is emotional and touching without being cheesy or cloying. The music and videography are fantastic. But it is still clear that they have yet to hit their stride. Rob Bell, while poignant and passionate, is still fairly uncomfortable in his delivery. He stumbles a bit in his memorization, and uses a few words in distracting ways, such as a constant use of, "It's intrstng..." spoken really fast. And he uses the unmodified word "scriptures" instead of "Bible" for some reason, as if there were no other scriptures besides the Bible. His mannerisms also suggest that he is still getting used to talking to the camera. From a presentation point, we can see that Nooma started off pretty literal with their segment titles and imagery. It's called "Rain" because the video is mostly about rain, and there's a picture of an umbrella on the cover. In subsequent segments, the titles and imagery are much more intriguing and implied, which I like. But all these things are very minor. "Rain" is truly a wonderful experience.

Re:Group Discussion: We had a very intimate dialogue following this video. We gave some testimony, and talked about how God is interested far more in our character than our happiness, and how it is trial and suffering that brings about character in our lives. On the other hand, it is often when we have hit rock bottom that God uses an unexpected blessing to turn us around, because "it is his kindness that leads us to repentance." We discussed the redemptive nature of suffering, as we commit to live our lives for others, and not for ourselves. Thus we can become co-laborers with our brothers and sisters as they suffer, because we have been there. And we can encourage others to look for the redemptive purpose of their own suffering, although we should recognize the difference between a time to counsel, and a time to comfort.

We read Psalm 124 to understand God's desire to rescue us from trouble, and Job 1:20-21 to understand how to worship God even when he did not rescue us. We also considered the declaration of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, who said, and I paraphrase, "Even if our God does not save us, we will still not bow down to a man."

We recognized that, as we go through trials, it is so important to understand that God treasures the moments that he can love us through them, and that, if we are mature in our faith, we can look back at them later, and treasure them as well.

Next Week, June 24: Merge - a community worship gathering, at the Bellwether gallery

July 1 Re:Group gathering: Nooma 002 - Flame

God the Father, God the Son

There is a reason why so many preachers focus so heavily on the New Testament. It's the same reason that people publish pocket New Testaments, but decide to throw Psalms and Poverbs in for good measure.

I understand those little things are designed to be compact, but they still bother me a little. Sure, when you're talking about scripture you can pick out whatever verse or chapter suits your topic, without quoting the entire thing. But to print and bind a book called the Bible, while leaving out the "less important" half just seems a little, I don't know... haughty.

But it's not just that it's deemed less important. It's a real stumbling block, both for unbelievers and seasoned Christians... even preachers. And that's why they tend to avoid a lot of it. Sure, it has a lot of great stories, and those are easy to pick out and use at one's convenience, but even then you have to gloss over some gory details. Noah's Ark seems like a happy little story until you realize that it involves the violent destruction of more people (and animals) than all the most gratuitous Hollywood action movies ever made. Read some other examples here.

So it is nothing new to Christianity to have a tenuous relationship with the Old Testament, and to have our doubts about the God presented in it.

The result for many has been to see Jesus as the rebellious hero... a sort of Robin Hood figure. He noticed his dad was behaving pretty harshly, so he snuck out of his room in the middle of the night, climbed down the tree and incarnated himself into a human before papa could notice his absence. Then he systematically revised God's moral code, gave him a P.R. makeover, and died so that people would actually have a shot at appeasing an otherwise impervious deity. In other words, Jesus double-crossed his Father, to our great benefit.

I can understand why people would want to believe this. But it's not hard to see how incompatible it is with the most well-known verse in the Bible: "For GOD so LOVED the WORLD that he GAVE his only-begotten Son..." That doesn't sound like Jesus sneaking out the window to me.

Yesterday was, as you know, Father's Day. And I took the opportunity to think about our relationship to God as our Father, and about some of the words we use to describe that relationship. Fear, for example.

Think about what a "good father" really is. It's not the same as a "cool dad", is it? Not to say that a good father can't be cool from time to time, but the two concepts are certainly not synonymous. A good father does what is best for his children, whether or not they find it pleasant. And a good father will even, in a way, be feared by his children. He will never inspire terror, but shouldn't a child have to think twice before disobeying out of fear of angering his father? One step further... shouldn't a child possibly even fear that his father will require him to do something unpleasant, or move the family to another city, where their lives will be uprooted?

There is a fine line between healthy and unhealty fear. If the child is afraid to approach his father, or losing sleep worrying about what he will do, that is over the line. The fear should be just enough for the child to realize, "Wow... my dad is in control of my life. He can do whatever he wants with me. But you know... he loves me, and I trust him. Even if he causes me pain, I know it's for my good." (Assuming the child is mature enough to really grasp this. Most adults aren't even there yet.)

Although you can't put a price on a love like this, it is not the fullness of love that we need as humans. We also need tenderness and compassion. We need someone to come alongside us in love, in addition to one who condescends in love. A good father recognizes this, and (using the father-daughter example) will do his best to make sure his daughter marries a good man, who can give her the other half of love, that cannot come from a father. In older cultures, the father would literally give his daughter a husband.

When I started to think this way, it made much more sense to me how God the Father and God the Son truly are compatible. The Father loves us in a fatherly way... a way that can inspire fear, reverence and awe. And the Son, our bridegroom, loves us in a husbandly way... on our own level, having been born as a man, he loves us firmly, yet gently.

And I believe we misunderstand God entirely unless we can see the broad smile and happy tears on his face as walks us down the aisle, and gives us away to his only Son, our bridegroom.

Insofar

I only gain my life insofar as I lose it.

I am only exalted insofar as I am humbled.

I am only victorious insofar as I am surrendered.

I am only strong insofar as I grasp my weakness.

I am only healthy insofar as I am broken.

And I can only lose my life... I can only be humbled, surrendered, weak and broken, and therefore exalted, victorious, strong and healthy... insofar as I stop starting all my sentences with "I".

Church of the Open Mic

It was our fourth time doing it, and we were starting to feel comfortable.

But our monthly Open Mic Night is engineered to be unpredictable, not comfortable. And you'd have to a zen master to not wonder each month if anybody would even come... if the food would go bad before you could eat all the left-overs yourself... if the posters you put up all over downtown would mock you until they got replaced by "Battel of the Bands" or "Have you seen this dog??!?" several days later... if you would have to wonder what you did wrong... and if the whole vision is even worth the effort anyway.

Those were the premonitions at about 7:15 that Saturday night, May 5, 2007... when we were 15 minutes into it, and two people had shown up. We did our best to cheer ourselves up. "It's Cinco de Mayo... everybody's pub-crawling and wasted by now. It's ArtsFest weekend... everybody's watching 10 year old cloggers and buying knick-knacks on Walnut Street. It's Springfield Symphony's free-concert-in-the-park night... everybody's groovin' to the oboes."

"We just have too much competition tonight, that's all," we told ourselves. But all that food... and all that work. I noticed a stack of Open Mic Night leaflets on the table, and asked Phillip if he wanted to join me in passing them out around downtown. He said sure... couldn't hurt.

The first people we came to were college preps sitting out in front of a loft building at College & Market. They were, shall we say, not interested. At least not in anything non-alcoholic. Not even dark yet, and they were all plastered. If you need proof, one of them said I look like James Blunt. 'Nuff said.

After that it was a mixed bag. Some sounded excited, some threw our leaflets directly on the ground, some said nothing. On South Ave, right across from the Front Porch, Phillip got to talking with a couple of guys who had a serious interest in The Core. And I met a guy nearby named BroJo who wanted to come to Open Mic right away. So Phillip stayed to chat a bit, and BroJo and I walked on back to the gallery.

We found that not much had changed there... we were now up by one guest, and down by one leader. I started to talk seriously about taking all the food and heading down to the Square, where all the people were. But just a moment later, Vernon showed up... sweet Vernon. Last time he brought his guitar and did some retro music. This time he brought his violin to do some really retro music... meaning, classical. Then Phillip got back, so we went ahead and kicked it off.

First I played an original song... screwed it up a bit. Then a comedian got up and gave us a few yuks. Then a guy named Patrick, who's been showing some interest in the things of The Core lately, shared his "slam" poetry, which, apparently, is a lot like hip hop without the "music". Very ghetto-swagger kinda stuff coming from a very (by his own admission) white guy. But to be honest, he had some pretty quality rhymes... poignant and heartfelt, to boot.

In the middle of that, two guys came in with a guitar. Andy and Tad. Andy said he'd like to have some mic time.

Vernon got up with his violin and played beautifully. Such elegant music in such a humble environment reminded me of a story I read in the Washington Post about world-renowned violinist Joshua Bell, and his experiment to play his $3.5 million Stradivarius violin for 45 minutes at the busiest subway stop in Washington, D.C., to see if people would recognize genius out of context (although Bell rejects the word "genius" for himself.) I felt inspired by Vernon's performance to get up and tell the story. I asked if anyone knew who Joshua Bell was, and Andy, who I just mentioned, raised his hand and informed the group. I told everyone that, as it turned out, almost no one gave any notice to Bell or his violin playing... as 1,000 people quickly passed him on their way to somewhere. I encouraged everyone to recognize genius and beauty even in the blandest circumstances, or the most mundane schedules.

Four more young people walked in.

Phillip got up and welcomed Andy Zipf to the mic. Andy Zipf??? Is that who this guy was?

I started to adjust the microphone for him, and he said he would be fine without it. That was an understatement. He told us he had seen our flyer at the MudHouse, and, since he was going to be in Springfield for one more evening in the middle of his tour, he wanted to play a venue that was low-key and intimate.

Wait... He's on tour??? "Where are you from?" We asked.

"Washington, D.C. That's how I knew Joshua Bell... I've seen him play there."

So Andy started to strum his old Martin Guitar and opened his mouth to release his crystalline tenor voice. I don't want to say he "sang" because singing involves lung power and diaphragm and larynx. But none of that seemed to be involved here. His music was the sound of his soul rising... just waiting for his mouth to open.

Phillip later admitted that when he returned from passing out flyers that he was "in a piss-poor mood." I could relate. At the beginning I felt like I might be OK emotionally if Open Mic Night was a failure, but it was hard. I knew that God had every right to set us back a bit and teach us a lesson about perseverance and trust. But listening to Andy Zipf, I felt God speak to my heart and say, "No lessons, Ryan. Not tonight." I think Phillip was starting to come around, too... not to mention everyone else in the room.

After a few of Andy's songs, we took a little break, and I talked to the four young-uns who had just come in. One of them was named Danielle, and she said she was thinking about getting up and sharing something... not a song, not a poem... just some thoughts that had been on her heart. So I put her on the list to come up shortly, before she changed her mind.

After ten minutes or so, I broke the ice again by reading an original poem called "Life Sensory", and a past post from this blog, "I Am a Hypocrite", to set the tone for our theme, "AuthentiCity." Then Danielle came up.

I wish I could remember every word she spoke. I wish I had recorded it. But I remember her heart... her sadness at all the people who get up, go to work, come home, watch TV, go to bed... all the people who never really live their lives... who never discover what it means to be human. Throughout several confessions of "I don't know where I'm going with this," she asserted her commitment and passion to rise above the common error of missing life. I did remember one line she spoke, "I am glad that I'm able to have my heart broken." Here is a non-Christian, by her own admission, who has spun extemporaneous poetry to the words of James, "rejoice in many trials." To be human is to smile and to laugh, but also to cry and scream. No one should wish away these things... the essence of joy is to embrace them all.

Phillip took the microphone when she was done, his face red. "That is what tonight is about. That is what we've wanted all along... for people to share from the depths of their heart. That is authenticity." He was crying, and I think all of us were moved. As I said, this was our fourth time to have Open Mic, and we had always tried to set the tone for people to feel free to get up and just share... not to entertain, but just to share from their hearts. We love all those who have participated, and have learned and grown from each one. But Danielle was the first person to really, really get it. Praise God.

Among all this were a few beautiful and unlikely partnerships. Andy asked Vernon to improvise on the violin during one of his songs. Patrick asked Andy to provide background music for his rhymes. The spontaneity and community of it all was just breath-taking. Andy Zipf said it himself, "You guys should be thankful to have a community like this."

Tad, who had come with Andy not planning to share--"I haven't played the guitar for three years," he said--eventually decided to do it anyway. For some reason he picked up my guitar instead of using Andy's. He was welcome to it, and it sang beautifully in his lightly trembling fingers. Although his delivery was humble, even bashful, his worship was not. It was a very quiet expression of a very bold heart, fervently seeking the presence of God.

Vernon and his solo violin returned to the mic, with a disclaimer. "I haven't really worked this one out, yet... so bear with me. I can't believe I'm playing this in public." But he did.

And it was great. Most of it.

He stumbled even farther into the piece than he expected to. But when he was done, he was done. And we applauded him heartily, as he deserved.

I had to get up and say something. "I have to wonder," I said, "what our communities... what our families, our lives, would look like if we were always this... generous with each other. Danielle says, 'I don't know where I'm going with this, but...' Tad says, 'I haven't played in three years, but...' Vernon says, 'I haven't worked this all out yet, but...' It's that word 'but' that makes such a difference in people's lives. What if the people who approached us could know that we accept them in advance? How different could things be? We all know by now how talented Vernon is. But we've shown him that he doesn't have anything to prove. We love Vernon's talent. But not nearly as much as we love Vernon... and Danielle... and Tad."

That was the gist of it anyway. Like I said, I didn't record this event, and chances are that I was not quite that eloquent. But I felt eloquent. I think everyone did that evening. I guess that's what true community does to you.

I called Andy back up to the microphone to finish off the evening. He played three more songs, bringing us into the singing on one of them--"Add some harmony, if you like," he said. And all of us... Christians, Buddhists, Atheists, Agnostics... I believe we were all in a state of worship.

You may wonder about that, but I'm convinced that everyone has the ability to worship God in one form or another. It may be either vague or specific, mysterious or practical... but even those who don't know his name can find themselves in a moment of otherness... a moment of certainty that it's not about them; that there is a higher good, and a greater purpose. My prayer is that those experiences will build up in all of us, and lead us closer to a real knowledge of who God is, and what he's done for us. But in the meantime... don't miss those stunning moments that tie us together as spiritual beings.

I looked around, and there were more people present than ever before.

Andy finished his singing, and Phillip wrapped it up for us. After talking to a few people, I noticed that Danielle and her friend Katie had left. So I stepped out the door to see if they had gotten far... they hadn't.

"Hey you guys," I shouted. "Thought you could get by me, huh?"

"No, sorry... you were talking, so we just..."

"Well, I had to say thank you because, well... I don't want to be one of those pastors always throwing scripture at people, but you know in James where it says 'Rejoice in many trials', well, you've finally put a face on that for me."

Danielle said she was grateful to have been able to share, and that she never does that sort of thing. That she was just feeling it out to see what the spirit in the place was, and then, just... went for it.

"I'm not religious or anything, I mean... I believe in God," she said.

"This may sound strange..." I muttered, "but I think you've helped me understand Jesus better."

Danielle was almost beside herself. But I was telling the truth. "Thank you," she gushed, "That... that means so much to me."

Christina had caught up to us by now. "I think that was the most spiritual experience of my life," she said. She had been thinking about her friend Melanie, whose birthday was that day. She was one of those people who lived life exuberantly, and gave of herself extravagantly. Melanie died in a car accident at the age of 19, three years ago. "I just... I knew she was there with us."

____________

On the evening of May 5, we had an experience that is likely to make us anticipate our Open Mic events more eagerly in the coming months. We'll be tempted to tell everyone how Andy Zipf came, and so you can never know what minor celebrity you might see at Open Mic Night. We may be tempted to start arranging for them to be there when they don't seem to arrive on their own. I could see us screening the participants to make sure they can provide us with a certain quality experience. After all, if people start to come expecting something... we need to give it to them, right?

Wrong. I will make no guarantees for June's Open Mic Night. There might be a hundred people show up, and then Sufjan Stevens pops in. There might be zero except for a first-year accordion student. I can accept that, because as soon as we start programming it, we lose on two counts... the result becomes fake, and the premise--that magnificent premise of spontaneity, of foregone acceptance, of community--is lost.

So whatever God has in store for us, all I can say is, well... bring it on.

I Am a Hypocrite

The whole world looks like wood to me.

Oh, I hear the snickers… the put-downs, the wisecracks. And you know what? I don’t care. They can laugh all they want. What good are their opinions anyway? Splinters in their eyes… every one of them. What chance do they have of seeing me clearly anyway? They’re nuts. They’ve got splinters everywhere.

“Hm… Coreman?”

“Yes.”

“Can I show you something?”

“Yeah, fine.”

“You see this mirror, here?”

“What are you talking about… that two-by-four?”

“You mean… this… two by four?”

“Where do you get that? And where did that mirror come from?”

“This board was IN your eye. See, it’s got a few of your eyelashes on it.”

“Well, what happened to all the stuff that was in your eye?”

“There wasn’t any… you were looking at this board.”

“oh.”

And everything falls apart. All my life I’ve been complaining with the best of them: “The Church is full of hypocrites!” Some of us complainers simply got fed up and left. Others were like me, and decided that the Church didn’t have to be full of hypocrites... those aren't the real Christians anyway. So if we start a new church with real Christians, bingo. Hypocrite-free.

But now I’m holding this two-by-four in my hands. And I realize that, when I left the old crowd to start fresh, I inadvertently brought one hypocrite with me. And standing in front of the mirror now, it’s all too obvious.

Donald Miller is famous for saying, in his book Blue Like Jazz, that “I am the problem.” After spending numerous months gaining a reputation as a socially conscious activist and political protester, he realized that he should rather be protesting himself, holding up a cardboard sign emblazoned with those four self-incriminating words.

Roger Moran, the man indirectly responsible for sending hundreds of new readers to my blog last week, is guilty of blind antogonism and divisiveness within the Body of Christ. He pulled out his rhetorical claws, and went for the jugular.

He attacked with error. I, in turn, retaliated with accuracy. But it was not Truth. The Truth of Christ cannot be couched in retaliation, defensiveness and pride.

I was talking with my dad (a fellow pastor and fellow church-planter) last weekend about what it means to be a pastor. It dawned on me that, although God calls certain individuals to be pastors, he does not promise us extra righteousness, and he certainly does not expect us to find it on our own. And honestly, even a pastor who is paid full-time to do nothing but study, preach, pray, and shepherd his people has no real hope for a superior holiness. Yet that is what we have come to expect from our spiritual leaders. To be a cut above… a little lower than the angels, and a little higher than the bourgeoisie.

But not only is such a notion silly, it is reckless. Isn’t it obvious that pastors feel this pressure building up, this performance anxiety to be a poster-child of godliness?

In the end, I decided that all we have is humility. All we have is repentance, accountability, brokenness. We cannot be superior, nor should we strive to. There will always be lay people more surrendered than us, more prayerful than us, more obedient than us. And there will always be grievous mistakes in our lives, straining to be confessed. It is not until we give up our pride of position and let them out that we can welcome authenticity into our lives. Perfection awaits us in the by-and-by. Let's embrace vulnerability and authenticity in the here-and-now.

Every church should have a perfect leader. We just have to let the Perfect Leader lead.

Working On Your Serve

So you want to be a servant...

What's the opposite of classify? Declassify, of course.
What's the opposite of regulate? Deregulate.
Humidify? Dehumidify.
Sensitize? Desensitize.

What about Serve? What's the opposite of that?

In the late 1780s, America's founding fathers were trying desperately to get our government off the ground. But it wasn't until 1791 that the first ten Amendments to the Constitution were ratified, and America had its Bill of Rights. This acheivement served to overcome the final obstacle to a stable and workable government uniting our 13 original colonies, and the Bill of Rights is now recognized around the world as a uniquely American document.

I think everyone I know would agree that the adoption of the Bill of Rights was a triumphant moment in American history, and indeed a turning point in the civilization of humanity.

But it also has a lot to tell us about our character as Americans. Our nation was founded on the idea, among others, that all humans deserve to have certain rights and opportunities. Thomas Jefferson called them "unalienable." The framers of the Constitution broke them down into three categories: Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness (a modification of John Locke's list- Life, Liberty and Property.) Then, the Bill of Rights put them into lawyerspeak for time immemorial.

And lo and behold, it stuck. 215 years later, what better way is there to identify an American in a crowd than to find the one demanding to get what he deserves (or more precisely, what he wants.) As a nation, we are so focused on our rights that it has become impossible to understand the true character of Jesus.

If you are always thinking about how you can serve others, you are a SERVANT.
If you are always thinking about what you deserve, you, my friend, are a DESERVANT. You are the opposite of what Jesus was, and is calling you to be.

Take a look at Philippians 2:5-7 in the Message.

Think of yourselves the way Christ Jesus thought of himself. He had equal status with God but didn't think so much of himself that he had to cling to the advantages of that status no matter what. Not at all. When the time came, he set aside the privileges of deity and took on th