Unexpected Grief

Recently I got word that a good friend of mine had passed away in Waco, Tx. He was 44.

Tony was such a dear friend that my kids called him "Uncle Tony." He had a contagious smile and a great laugh.

He loved God, life, and people.

We don't know why he died.

They found his body on Dec. 28, and he had apparently been dead for several days. No signs of forced entry or criminal activity. Tony was simply dead. As of today they don't even know how he died.

The shock of hearing about a friend's untimely death (is death ever timely?) is bad enough, but this sudden bit of bad news has hit me harder than I would have imagined.

You see, grief came knocking on my door, and he was not expected.

I wasn't prepared, I didn't know how to act or what to say.

When my father died, I had seen his slow deterioration and was not surprised.

Tony is my age (or close enough). He was relatively healthy and happy.

Grief often shows up at the most inopportune time. He is seldom a welcome guest and even more rarely an invited one. He walks in unannounced and tries to take over the household.

Grief immobilizes you. It makes you stop and hurt.

I guess grief is useful, but when you are experiencing it you just want it to stop. You want the uninvited pest to go away.

I am grieving for the loss of my friend. Although, to be honest, I am probably grieving more for my own sake than his. I will miss Tony. A part of my life has been taken away without my permission. I have been reminded that I am mortal and temporal.

I am not infinite.

To borrow from Robert Browning Hamilton:

I walked a mile with Pleasure, She chattered all the way; But left me none the wiser, For all she had to say. I walked a mile with Sorrow And ne'er a word said she; But, oh, the things I learned from her When Sorrow walked with me!

I must admit that Sorrow has often enriched me in ways that Pleasure never did, but in all honesty I enjoy Pleasure's company more. It is true with most of us humans.

Of course, I guess we don't appreciate Pleasure as much as when we have walked with Sorrow.

Grief has come to me, he came uninvited.
We will walk a while, probably in silence.
At the end, I will still miss my friend, but I will cherish life more.
I hope.
Grief is not my friend, but he helps in some ways, I guess.
Grief came knocking on my door, and I didn't check to see who it was before I answered.
Now Grief is a guest in my home.
How long he'll stay is anybody's guess.
He'll leave quietly one day and the only evidence that he was there will be the memory of our missing friend and a few tear-filled tissues.

Grief will go, but hopefully he will leave me wiser and more grateful.

I miss Tony.

This topic is heavy, I think I want to put it down now. Sorry for being a bummer!

Thanks for reading!

Failure vs. Competency

Romans 9:6—“But it is not as though the word of God has failed.”

1 Corinthians 14:12—“So with yourselves; since you are eager for manifestations of the Spirit, strive to excel in building up the church.”

2 Corinthians 3:4-6—“Such is the confidence that we have through Christ toward God. Not that we are competent of ourselves to claim anything as coming from us; our competence is from God; who has made us competent to be ministers of a new covenant, not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.”

“Failure!” How I hate that word. I guess deep in my own heart and mind I fear it more than anything else. I don’t want to fail; I don’t want to be a failure.

The word itself is threatening. It is harsh. “He is a failure” we say about someone who has not lived up to the potential that we saw in them. He failed—at business, at love, at sport, at play. None of these things are considered praiseworthy.

No one wants to be a failure.

God doesn’t fail. His word succeeds; it does what he sent it to do. The word of God has not failed.

It doesn’t matter what the world may look like, it doesn’t matter even the circumstances around us. God’s Word has not failed. Things will work out just as God predicted. He is not unaware.

He has made us competent.

Not failures, but competent.

Because his promise is true and will succeed at what it is sent to do, we can be confident in this thing—God has not called us to fail as his ministers, as his servants, as his children. We are competent to the task he has called us, not by virtue of our own abilities, but by virtue of the Spirit of God which he has given to us in a lavish manner.

Nothing comes from us. We cannot claim that anything we have or even own came from us. Everything comes from the hand of God, the same hand that makes us competent in his service and by his grace.

Competent! I am not a failure in God’s sight. I am competent by Christ. Competent by the Spirit of God. I can do what he asked me to do. I am competent as a minister of the new covenant.

Sometimes it is difficult to see the competency that God s working in us. Sometimes we only see failure and disrepute. But God is faithful; he will do what he said he would do. Paul reminds us in 2 Corinthians 3 that God is able to make us competent to perform the tasks to which he called us.

Competent! Capable! Able!

In Christ, I am competent.

It is a good thing to know. It feels good to hear it. By God’s grace we are competent to fulfill the tasks to which he called us.

We can go and teach. We can win souls, we can baptize, and we can do whatever we are asked to do. We are competent.

Thanks be to God for his inexpressible gift!

Thanks for reading!

File it under "Dumb Criminals"

Hey y'all:

I wanted to share a story that happened right here in central Virginia. You can find the whole news item in the News and Advance online here:

More Charges in Christmas Barrage

.

The story is that a certain fellow who lives near Liberty University received a birthday gift of "homemade liquor and 5,000 rounds of ammunition" for Christmas. After drinking a few rounds of his homemade brew, he decided it would be fun to shoot up the neighborhood ("Drinking and Shooting don't mix" and "Don't Shoot Drunk." Ads for Moms against Drunk Shooting--MADS). At any rate, his neighborhood included the above mentioned school and the River Ridge Mall.

Neighbors called the police who tried to contact the fellow by phone. He wouldn't answer the phone. In fact, he came out of his mobile home onto his porch and fired his gun into the air as the officers watched!

Unfortunately for him, his homemade liquor dulled his senses.

Evidently when he came out onto the porch to shoot his gun into the air, he inadvertently locked himself out of the house!

Can you say "Nowhere to hide?"

Needless to say, the police took the drunk shootist into custody and charged him with several felonies.

I guess the reason he locked himself out of the house was because he left his keys with his designated driver. Who knows?

I tell this story as evidence of how dumb humans (all of us!) can be.

Most of us reading this story chuckled at the man's ineptitude, but we aren't much different.

We persist in our own sins and selfishness, brandishing our self made guns at our Creator while drunk on the homemade liquor of our own arrogance.

We think we can outwit God just by avoiding answering the phone when he calls.

We think we can be "responsible" with our sin, that is, do it only so much so that "it doesn't really hurt anybody."

In reality, our selfishness has made us drunk. Our sin has made us stupid!

We can't see the damage we do when we choose to go our own way, drink our own brew, shoot our own guns without any thought of others around us.

Professing ourselves to be wise, we become fools.

Jesus reminds us that if we really want to have an impact on the world (besides being drunk with our own sin and shooting everyone in sight with our own self-righteousness, that is) then we really should learn to serve others. That's right, we should seek to make the least among us (the least glamorous, the least successful, etc.) the most important. We should take the servant's towel and wrap it around our waists, we should wash the stinky, dirty feet of the person we would normally not even notice. We should serve others instead of drinking ourselves into oblivion on our own importance.

We need to be like Jesus--willing to die for those who really don't deserve it.

I don't want to be drunk on my own selfish ideas.

I want to sober up with service. I want to learn to love my neighbor properly.

Thanks for reading!

"Indian Summer" or thoughts for a warm January day. . .

Today is one of those days that (if it occurred in November or December) my parents would call an "Indian Summer." The temperature here in Lynchburg is around 65 degrees, the sun is out, and a slight breeze is blowing. It puts me in mind of those days just before summer when you could finally put the top down (if you had a convertible) or just roll down your windows and cruise. It is perfect for a country drive with some '70s rock and roll (I'm thinking Lynyrd Skynyrd, but right now I'm rocking to DeGarmo and Key--a Southern rock Christian band from the late '70s and early '80s).

At any rate, the weather puts me in a spring like attitude. I don't want to argue theology or talk shop at the seminary, I want to bask in the wonder of this creation God has graciously given us. I want to sit in the sun, have a fond memory, listen to oldies . . . I just want to drink in life and all the full malt goodness it offers today.

Yeah, I'm kinda goofy. I know. But I love these days. I think about the first time I'd go barefoot in Millington, Tennessee after winter had finally relinquished its cold grip to spring. The grass would be moist, there would still be little bite in the air, but the breeze is warm enough to be in shirt sleeves. Think drinking a nice cold soda after a long hot day of baseball. There ya go! Let your mind wander!

Okay, that's far enough.

You can come back now.

Isn't it amazing how weather can affect our thoughts and emotions?

This complex ecosystem into which God has placed us really is in many ways an ideal location. I am grateful to God for his grace in creation.

Well, I gotta go back outside.

Thanks for reading!

The mystery of Christmas

A little over 2000 years ago, a tiny child was born in the bleakest of conditions. Oh, he wasn’t the only one born in a bad state. In fact, in some ways, he was one of the lucky ones. He and his mother actually survived childbirth and thrived. Still, this story is unique and amazing on several levels.

First, this child would literally change the way time is reckoned in the world. His life and abilities would so impress generations of others that a brand new movement would be created, one that would radically change the very face of the earth (sometimes for good, sometimes for bad). His name would become recognized among the names of the greatest of humans, yet he never forgot his humble beginnings or lost a sense of who he was.

The second thing about this child is tied to the first in that this baby, this helpless lad full of spittle and mush, was born as the very Son of God. When Mary held his little head to her breast, he drank human milk. Yet, he was (and is) the God of the universe. Can you picture this simply ridiculous, yet somehow poetic scene? God, who calls the stars by name, pressed to the human breast for sustenance. Humble, yet almighty, is how most folks would no doubt recall this child.

A little over 2000 years ago, God proposed that the only remedy for the human condition of sin would be if he humbled himself, stepped out of eternity and into human flesh, and suckled at Mary’s breast in preparation for the greatest, most impressive conversion of all. God, in Mary’s arms, toddling around Joseph’s shop, learning to talk, learning to walk, tasting and touching things with human hands. As the Psalmist says in Psalm 139, “such knowledge is too wonderful for us, we cannot contain it.”

God knew that the only way to redeem us was if he did it himself. Haven’t you ever had that thought? You know, the one where you say, “If I want something done right, I’ll just have to do it myself?” Imagine God having that thought about bringing us back to proper relationship with him. Imagine again that the only way he knew he could do that is if he came to earth as a baby. Think of it—how vulnerable the almighty God was at that moment, how paradoxical that the God of all creation had to learn to walk! And why did he put himself in this situation? Out of his inexpressible love for each of us he acted in this manner.

He became insane that we may be sane. He became flesh so that we might walk in the Spirit. He became sin that we might be righteous. He became poor so that we might be rich. He became a toddling, dribbling, helpless babe so that we could become mature humans in the image of almighty God. What wondrous love! What humility and service! How then can anything he asks of us be too difficult?

Lord, in this Christmas season, remind me of your sacrifice and love so that I might be a light shining in darkness to others. May the grace of God and the peace of Christ rule in my family and my life.

Thanks for reading!

Some random quotes

Here's an observation from a friend about Christmas--"Isn't it funny that we honor the God who left it all to become poor for our sakes by giving each other motorized tie racks?"

I'll go one better--Isn't it ironic that Jesus left it all to become sin for us so that we can buy each other expensive gifts and ignore the hungry and poor in our midst? Sorry, I couldn't resist.

Here are your random quotes:

St. Francis of Assisi—“The safest remedy against the thousand snares and wiles of the enemy is spiritual joy.”

Mr. Holy-Man in John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress—“There are two things that they have need to possess who go on pilgrimage—courage and an unspotted life. If they have not courage, they can never hold on their way; and if their lives be loose, they will make the very name of the pilgrim stink.”

“If you say that man is too little for God to speak to him, you must be very big to be able to judge.” Blaise Pascal

“All great change in America begins at the dinner table.” Ronald Reagan, 1989

John Wayne, as Davey Crockett in the movie, The Alamo—“There's right and there's wrong. You gotta do one or the other. You do the one and you're living. You do the other and you may be walking around but you’re dead as a beaver hat.”

Thanks for reading!

What's playing in my office . . .

Currently on the old CD player are the following:

1. Sixpence None The Richer--"Collage: A Portrait of their Best"
2. David Crowder Band--"Can you hear us?"
3. Silers Bald--"Real Life"

Alternative music rocks!

Thanks for reading!

God's kindness . . . a brief rant

Ps 25:4-10

4 Show me the path where I should walk, O LORD; point out the right road for me to follow. 5 Lead me by your truth and teach me, for you are the God who saves me. All day long I put my hope in you. 6 Remember, O LORD, your unfailing love and compassion, which you have shown from long ages past. 7 Forgive the rebellious sins of my youth; look instead through the eyes of your unfailing love, for you are merciful, O LORD. 8 The LORD is good and does what is right; he shows the proper path to those who go astray. 9 He leads the humble in what is right, teaching them his way. 10 The LORD leads with unfailing love and faithfulness all those who keep his covenant and obey his decrees. NLT

Where are words?

Where shall I find a vocabulary worthy of the kindness of God?

Where can I find the language necessary to thank God for his faithful love, for his mercy, for his lovingkindness?

In every generation he has shown himself not only merciful, but faithful to the children of Adam and Eve. Sons and daughters have often received of his grace great rewards and mercies, yet so often we have ignored them, even in some cases despised them.

God in his patience has waited, he has held out empty arms to us, longing for his arms to be filled with grateful, even playful children.

He longs for us, and we despise him

He loves us, and we hate him.

He waits, we run.

The story of humanity from Genesis to Revelation is that of a patient Father searching for his wayward children. “Adam, where are you?” God continues to cry even today.

And we continue to hide—in our arrogance, our wrongful actions, and in our hurtful ways. We would rather be “right” than reconciled. We would rather be “esteemed” than accepted.

We are jerks, total idiots.

Why does God love us?

Why does he continue to show us patience and kindness?

I don’t pretend to know, but I am learning to be grateful that he does.

“Jesus loves me, this I know, because the Bible tells me so.”

What a great idea! I’m glad God thought of it. I hope in some way I can live worthy of it.

Thanks be to God for his inexpressible gift!

Thanks for reading!

What Middle Earth race are you?

This will be interesting for all you Tolkein fans out there. There is a web site that offers a test to show you to which Middle Earth race you may belong. You can find the site at What Middle Earth Race Are You?

Here are my results:



Thanks for reading!

Nothing in particular

I wanted to let everyone know that I will be away from my computer for the majority of this week, so I will not (in all likelihood) be posting much to my blog. That being said, here are some bits and pieces of rambling.

I've been seeing some cool advertisements for the C. S. Lewis movie coming out soon. In preparation for it, I have been listening to the Chronicles of Narnia on CD. I just finished The Horse and His Boy, and there is an interesting interchange between Aslan and the boy Shasta in which the boy asks Aslan for information regarding his friend. Aslan responds by saying that he will not tell the boy anything about his friend. His reason is this--"I only tell each person their own story." Some of you are no doubt aware that I have an interest in the idea that God is telling our story. In one of my first posts to this blog, I mentioned the writings of John Eldredge (especially his book Epic) as influential on my thoughts regarding our lives as God's story (for more on the idea, see my post here Our Stories Matter). At any rate, the other day I was listening to some old T-Bone Burnett music. On his "Talking Animals" album, he has a song entitled "The Strange Case of Frank Cash and the Morning Paper." Here are the lyrics:

it was late september two years ago
frank cash was down on his luck
he'd made a killing at churchill downs
and that left him somewhat thunderstruck

so he rented a place down on lonely street
he was looking for somewhere to hide
the paper showed up at the door every day
and he'd go through the classifieds

then one morning he turned to the sports page
and he noticed that something was strange
the race results were from the day before
but the football scores were from next week's games
frank felt a scared and a little deranged
but a switch board lit up in his brain

that sunday he watched in amazement
as the scores flashed by on his tv set
monday morning he ran for the paper
and made it to the phone and began placing bets
he put ten thousand that night on the jets
ten grand he didn't have on the jets

it happened like that the whole season
he couldn't even count all the money he'd made
he started buying italian women and shoes
which he kept on a sprawling estate on the lake
and by that i don't mean by the lake
i mean ON the lake

he waited all summer for the football to start
the maiden brought him the paper every day
but all he could find was yesterday's scores
the damned paper had ceased to prognosticate
then a look of horror crossed his face
it finally dawned on him but too late

his rolls hit the pavement at a hundred and twenty
heading for lonely street
he rang the bell and a john walker answered
frank pressed his luck against the door screen

frank asked if he still got the paper
john walker said "what do you care?"
frank answered "i need to see the sports section
just for a minute" and john walker stared

frank tried to push through the doorway
john pulled a real forty-five
the dogs were all barking as the rolls pulled away
john walker was no longer alive

the judge looks down through his bifocals
the peers of the jury squirm in their seats
the courtroom is silent except for his footsteps
frank cash is about to speak

and frank says:

your honour and ladies and gentlemen of the jury
all this has been happening to me because of this guy
named t bone burnett. he's been making all this up
and i just want to say i don't believe in him
in fact i don't even think he exists and not only that
BUT THIS SONG IS OVER

frank got a suspended sentence
the jury ruled it was self defense
they ignored his statement
on the grounds it didn't make any sense

frank cash had a pretty good year
considering the dizzy chain of events
that paper was never delivered again
but i gave him back all the money he'd spent

and he married a woman with a lot of soul
and his first son will become president
if you see him tall him i said "hello"
and that i'm happy to be able to call him my friend

Burnett examines some interesting themes here, but the one that got my attention is the idea that God is telling our story (or writing our song), and not only can we be aware of it, but we can also ignore it or choose not to believe it.

Did you get that point?

We are aware that there are forces acting on our behalf (and sometimes against us), but we simply choose to ignore that fact. We simply do not believe it.

Is God busy writing our stories? If so, what does that tell us about our dreams, our desires, our choices?

Are we locked in a song like Frank Cash? Are we, like Shasta in The Horse and His Boy , merely driven by circumstances beyond our control?

If so, how is it that we can choose to deny those forces? How is it that we can choose not to beleive in them?

I will be dealing with some of these issues in my philosophy class soon. As I think about them, it is fascinating to think that God is writing a story about me, but that in some small ways I may also have the privilege of composing some part of that story with him. What an opportunity to be co-workers with God!

What kind of story am I writing?

What about you?

Thanks for reading!

Professing to be wise . . .

Hymn: Dear Lord and Father of Mankind, by John G. Whittier

“Dear Lord and Father of mankind,
Forgive our feverish ways!
Reclothe us in our rightful mind;
In purer lives Thy service find,
In deeper rev’rence praise.

“In simple trust, like theirs who heard,
Beside the Syrian sea,
The gracious call of the Lord,
Let us, like them, without a word,
Rise up and follow Thee . . . .”

Romans 1:22 struck my attention today. Paul is writing to a congregation who doesn’t know him, and he appears to be explaining his preaching of the gospel. At any rate, in a section dealing with the sinfulness of humanity and our seemingly incessant idolatry, Paul makes the following statement—“Claiming to be wise, they became morons.” Actually, modern English translations usually use the word “fools,” but the Greek verb here has at its root the source of our word “morons.” The Greek version can be translated variously as “fools, foolish, stupid, silly, insipid, or tasteless.” These words call to mind some aspects of modern Western culture, don’t they?

Seriously, I think it is highly ironic that Paul is comparing self-proclaimed wisdom to stupidity. “Professing to be sages, they became morons.” Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? We’ve all been there, proclaiming our incredible abilities far beyond those of mortal men and women. We are the best at what we do, why shouldn’t everyone consult us? We know what we’re talking about, right?

Then, in the back of our minds somewhere, we hear the sanity of God’s grace whispering, “Professing to be wise, they became fools.”

If we are honest and sane, we will admit that we did nothing to earn what we have. We are not the greatest nor the brightest, we are humans who sometimes think too highly of ourselves. We are morons. We are (or, at least, can be) fools.

Thank God for the wisdom of grace. Thank God for sanity poured out in a bludgeoned and bloody sacrifice on a cross on Calvary. Thank God for his inexpressible gift of grace through his son, Jesus Christ.

I don’t want to be a moron.

Thanks for reading!

Some news items from National Review

Three members of Bucknell College’s Conservative Club were dressed down for their use of “offensive” language. Their offense? In an e-mail promoting a speaker, they wrote, “Where were you during the months following September 11? Major John Krenson was hunting terrorists” in Afghanistan. The offending part isn’t immediately clear, but it turns out that in the cosseted world of Bucknell the phrase “hunting terrorists” is verboten. University president Brian C. Mitchell called it “unfortunate language” and said that he wished to “prevent this from happening again.” Got it: Next time, make it, “Krenson was trying to start a useful dialogue on sensitive issues with freedom fighters subjected to U.S. imperialism.”

An interesting example of cultural cross-fertilization showed up on our TV screens the other day when Martha Stewart, our national icon of middle-class domesticity, played hostess on her talk show to rapper and pop-music entrepreneur — he is the founder of Bad Boy Entertainment — Sean Combs, a.k.a. “Diddy.” Mr. Combs taught hip-hop slang to Ms. Stewart, and watched with approval while she rapped: “It’s Miss Martha from Jersey City / I’ll bake you a cake and make your crib look pretty . . .” Ms. Stewart’s venture into street culture seemed to us to fall into that category of performances famously remarked on by Doctor Johnson: It was not done well, but one was surprised to find it done at all. We doubt Ms. Stewart will have much of a career as a rap singer. The other side of the exchange was more promising. Mr. Combs learned how to make Chinese dumplings, how to personalize wrapping paper, and the proper way of watering house plants, accomplishments that will no doubt enrich his future life, broaden his horizons, and elevate his standing among his peers.

On October 3, 1995, O. J. Simpson was acquitted of murdering his ex-wife, Nicole Brown Simpson, and her friend Ronald Goldman. On September 30, 2005, Simpson was back in Los Angeles, autographing sports memorabilia for a horror-movie convention. “I don’t keep these dates in my head,” Simpson remarked of the near-coincidence, no doubt because his pursuit of the real killers has been all-consuming.

From National Review, OCTOBER 24, 2005, VOL. LVII, NO. 19

Thanks for reading!

The worth of a blog

My blog ain't worth much evidently. There's a blow to the head! Ah well, I'll write anyway.

My blog is worth $0.00.
How much is your blog worth?

Some thoughts and Sarah Kelly

This week has been a bit of a blur. I've been a bit overwhelmed in my mind and heart by circumstances and events, some of which are quite beyond my control. I haven't quite been sure how to put things into perspective lately. My heart hurts for friends in Waco, my mind swirls with a hundred possible scenarios to make that hurt go away, and yet I know that sometimes life just has pain. The hope that comes to me first looks a bit like the sun at dawn. It peeks over the fog and the dark clouds of the night. It seems almost timid, not sure whether or not to make its presence known. Then, the bright light pierces some part of the darkness. That little bit of light brightens the space, makes it seem lighter, more accessible.

Hope has been like that to me the past few days. By God's grace I see hope peeking into a dark time of life. The sun has not fully risen to its zenith, but there is a shaft of light shining into a dark place, making it livable and alive. In the midst of this darkness, I have taken solace in some music. One song that has encouraged me is "Take Me Away" by Sarah Kelly. It can be found on her album by the same name. Here are the lyrics:

no more weary teary eyes
just sunny skies
never have I felt so alone
my how I've grown
maybe that's the way it's supposed to be
as I'm walking down this street
maybe if it's just you and me
we'll never even miss a beat
maybe

Take me away
Take me away
All that I love is you, is you

captured by your love
I'm such a fool for you
the day you laid your hand upon my heart
tore my world apart
there's been so many times that I have prayed
to hear you speak my name
and though I've never seen you face to face
I search for you everyday

Take me away
Take me away
All that I love is you, is you

come what will and come what may
I know your love will remain
through the joy and through all the pain
I surrender and it makes me want to fly

Take me away
Take me away
All that I love is you, is you

I have this sense that God is there. He cares. I want to run away to him, to be in his lap for a few minutes. I want the ugliness of this fallen world to disappear, just for a minute. I want to experience the joy of Narnia without any evil. I know that a day will come, a day unlike any other, a day when we can tread the streets with no names and find what we are looking for. That hope is what drives me today. I'm not depressed, I'm sad that the ugliness of this world necessitates the death of so many who are too young to die. Kyle is an isolated event and a friend, but he isn't alone in the tragedy of human existence. God is beyond that tragedy. He is there. I turn to him, he is my hope. Without him, it just isn't worth the work, it isn't worth the effort, I'd just stay in bed.

Thanks to God for hope, thanks to God for his inexpressible gift. The sun will rise, life will continue, good will happen. Joy comes in the morning. I look forward to joy.

Thanks for reading!

Tragedy

Today I am in a rather somber mood. I received an e-mail from a friend in Waco, TX (Hello Kyle!) regarding a tragic event in the life of many Baylor students and the Waco Christian community at large. I'm not real clear on all the details, but I wanted to write my friends in the blogosphere to ask your prayers for this situation. Here is the story:

Yesterday morning (Sunday, October 30), University Baptist Church in Waco was getting ready to observe a baptism. As the pastor, Kyle Lake, began his descent into the baptism pool, he evidently reached up to adjust a microphone used for baptisms. The microphone caused a spark of some sort that resulted in the electrocution of Pastor Lake. Emergency help was summoned, but Kyle was declared dead at 11:30 a.m. at Hillcrest Baptist Memorial Hospital. He leaves a wife and three young children.

Kyle Lake was not a close friend. I knew him from my work as a bookstore manager. He was loved by many, at any rate, and he died at the age of 33.

33?

You gotta be kidding me, right?

Regular readers here will know of my grief over the loss of a cousin this past summer (You can read it here if you missed it--It isn't Fair. The feelings are the same now as then). Drew was closer to my age, but he was still young.

I feel so (what's the word?) angry, upset, sad. . . . I'm not sure what to say.

I'm still confident in God's character.

I know God is faithful and good.

But this whole thing just seems so wrong.

I hate death.

Yes, I hate it.

On the day when Death and Hades are kicked into the bottomless pit, I will stand and cheer. I will dance about wildly, flinging my arms and body in all sorts of direction in praise of a great accomplishment--greater than any touchdown, homerun, or pay raise. I will celebrate madly the final death of Death. I long for the day.

I know, I know, it's time to turn off the rant. Please pray for the Lakes and the others from UBC and the surrounding community who are hurting now.

Thanks for reading!

Some rambles about T Bone Burnett songs . . .

I'm kinda in a funk today, so instead of rambling aimlessly, I thought I'd offer some thoughts on the songwriting of one T Bone Burnett. Burnett is married to the former Leslie (now Sam) Phillips, and he is not only a prolific songwriter, he is quite a producer as well. At any rate, he put out an album in 1988 entitled "The Talking Animals." On this album are two songs I want to share with you. The first one (called "The Wild Truth") is about human need for truth. Here are the lyrics:

you never said it was a bed of roses
but you never said it was a bed of nails
you never told me 'bout the rubber hoses
or how unsteady were the justice scales

i need the wild truth

on the street there are a billion people
they got no love, they got no hope
they got no youth, they got no beauty
they're looking backwards through a telescope

they need the wild truth

whatever happened to the man walking down the street
with his hands in his pockets whistling a tune?
science fiction and nostalgia have become the same thing

i don't know how to make any choices anymore i mean,
who do i vote for? i get the feeling that as soon as
something appears in the paper it ceases to be true

i have to meet the man who can crack this world of justice
like a safe. someone with the courage to allow room for
good things to run wild

into the wild truth

we don't need no voodoo stories
from no magic president
who tries to make a dream a fait accompli
by using phantoms for his evidence

we need the wild truth

i tell a hundred thousand lies that twist me
into the noise where i hide my sin
my shame and scandal pull me down and kiss me
i can't live a life that might have been

i need the wild truth

are we supposed to take all this greed and fear and hatred
seriously? it's like watching dust settle it never changes
it's too consistent

mercy is not consistent it's like the wind
it goes where it will. mercy is comic, and its the only
thing worth taking seriously

i need the wild truth

This song strikes me as though the writer is seeking for something to make a difference in his life. Kind of like "I still haven't found what I'm looking for" by U2, this song says that we need something that will not only take us by surprise, but that will also make sense of the nonsense around us. We need "wild truth" that turns our evil into good and our anger to mercy. We need Mercy, we need Grace, we need the Wild Truth.

The second song is "Relentless" and is about love. You may want to debate with me regarding the origin of the love in the song, but I think the writer is talking about both the love of God and love between humans. Let me know what you think.

i stand and tremble in the driving rain
while your love rages like a hurricane

i can't break the silence as you still the wind
but i can hear you breathing underneath my skin

i am relentless almost senseless you are relentless

i reel and stagger in the blinding light
while your love flashes like a lightening strike

so i find the darkness where i grow afraid
but i cannot shake you and the blackness fades

i am relentless almost senseless you are relentless

you are relentless
this mercy convulses my pride
you are relentless
i find you wherever i hide
you are relentless
i have got nothing to win
and so i give in

i run and stumble as the mountains shake
while your love blazes like a world in flames

to shoot all fear into the desert sky
as stars fall like water through the dead of night

i am relentless almost senseless you are relentless

Thanks for reading!

The human dilemma . . .

Today I wanted to offer you something to think about that comes from Francis A. Schaeffer. I've been perusing his The God Who Is There lately, and I came across the following material that I found both shocking and culturally relevant to post-modern Christians in a twenty-first century world. Let me know what you think. The quotes below come from pages 193ff of Schaeffer's book.

The historic Christian position is that man's dilemma has a moral cause. God, being non-determined, created man as a non-determined person. this is a difficult idea to anyone thinking in twentieth-century terms because most twentieth-century thinking sees man as determined. He is determined either by chemical factors, . . . or by psychological factors . . . . In either case, or as a result of the fusion of these two, man is considered to be programmed. If this is the case, then man is not the tremendous thing the Bible says he is, made in the image of God as a personality who could make a free first choice. Because God created a true universe outside of Himself (not as an extension of His essence), htere is a true history which exists. Man as created in God's image is therefore a significant man in a significant history, who could choose to obey the commandment of God and love Him, or revolt against Him. There is no reformed theologian, however strong his reformed theology might be, who would not say that Adam in this way was able fundamentally to change the course of history.

This is the wonder of man and the wonder of history. . . . Man can understand and respond to the One who, having made him and communicated with him, called upon him to show that he loved Him by simple command, 'Don't do this'. . . . This is the infinite-personal God calling on personal man to act by choice. . . . He could so act by choice because he was created to be different from the animal, the plant and the machine.

To ask that man should have been made so that he was not able to revolt is to ask that God's creation should have ceased after He created plants and animals. It is to ask that man should be reduced to machine programming. It is to ask that man should not exist.

If one begins to consider the Christian system as a total system, one must begin with the infinite-personal triune God who is there, and who was communicating and loving before anything else was.

That's a lot to take in for one day, but I wanted to add a postscript. This morning in philosophy class I acknowledge that the only true knowledge of God begins with God's initiation. That is, God is reaching out to me to communicate to and relate with me. That is the record of Scriptue, and, I argue, the record of human history and experience. I cannot come to God on my own abilities or knowledge, even though those things may be gifts from that same God. No, the only way to have a relationship with God is through the initiative he shows to us all in the grace of Jesus. Chew on these things for a while and let me know what you think.

Thanks for reading!

T-Shirts . . .

Today I wanted to post the lyrics from a song by Derek Webb. The song is entitled "T-Shirts (what we should be known for)" and comes off of Derek's "I see things upside down" album. The song is a take off of John 13:34-35. Good stuff! Chew on this:

They'll know us by the t-shirts that we wear
They'll know us by the way we point and stare
At anyone whose sin looks worse than ours
Who cannot hide the scars of this curse that we all bare
They'll know us by our picket lines and signs
They'll know us by the pride we hide behind
Like anyone on earth is living right
And isn't that why Jesus died
Not to make us think we are right

Chorus:
When love, love, love
Is what we should be known for
Love, love, love
It's the how and it's the why
We live and breathe and we die

They'll know us by reasons we divide
And how we can't seem to unify
Because we've gotta sing songs a certain style
Or we'll walk right down that aisle
And just leave 'em all behind
They'll know us by the billboards that we make
Just turning God's words to cheap cliches
Says "What part of murder don't you understand?"
But we hate our fellow man
And point a finger at his grave

Chorus

They'll know us by the t-shirts that we wear
They'll know us by the way we point and stare
Telling 'em their sins are worse than ours
Thinking we can hide our scars
Beneath these t-shirts we wear


So, what do you think?

Thanks for reading!

What is my problem? Some rambles . . .

I sit here listening to the greatest hits of DC Talk and grading Philosophy worldview papers, but my mind continues to wander to other things. What is my problem?

I have tried for almost 2 weeks to get through the worldview of Augustine. Heck, it took three classes to cover Plotinus, and only God knows how long I took on Aristotle. I certainly enjoy the discussions we have in class (if any of you are reading this post, thanks for asking questions, it makes my day!), but some days I get bogged down in (what seem to me) unnecessary details.

Ever have one of those days?

Like Wednesday, we had a great discussion of the old "free will" versus "sovereignty of God" debate. I don't know if we settled anything, but I think we as a class framed the argument well and asked the right questions. Maybe some of life is simply a mystery to which we can't always find specific answers. Heck, I'm a philosopher, I ought to know this stuff! What is my problem?

I understand that I am human, I am not perfect. I know that the search for Truth (with a capital "T") is a lifelong pursuit. Dang, if it was easy, then everyone would do it, right? I guess today I am just a bit anxious that I didn't offer help in pursuing the issues. My desire is to provide a place where questions can be considered with openness, honesty, and reason. I want to help others to think critically about the important things in life--especially the things of God.

Hey, don't we all want to be the hero? Right?

Is this thing on?

Is anyone out there?

Sometimes I think I hear God in the back of my mind whispering encouragement. He offers tantalizing evidence of his love and watchcare by quietly speaking in the darkest reaches of my heart. I hear it, but sometimes it is too faint. I run to look at it more closely, yet I often take a wrong turn. Anyone else ever feel that way?

What is my problem?

It is Friday, I want to go home and play with my kids, and I'm feeling too introspective.

God help us when we get too introspective.

A note of interest that relates to nothing above--on Monday a friend of mine will come by the house to build a sukkoth to celebrate the Jewish feast of Tabernacles. My family will join his family (hi Joe!) and others (Hi Wayne!) to offer thanks to God for his provision for us. I'm looking forward to it. Wednesday night I had the privilege of participating in Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement) services with the same folks. It was quite impressive.

To think that God cared enough for me to provide a covering for my relationship to him. He loved us in such a manner as to give us a relationship with him through the sacrifice of his own Son. When I get down or introspective (like today), it is good to remember this fact. God loves me! Yes, he loves you too!

I may not know what is my problem today, but I know that God loves me. Thanks for listening to me ramble.

I appreciate you all.

Thanks for reading!

Problems with the media, reality TV . . . and more Muggeridge

Those who are familiar with Malcolm Muggeridge already know that he was a journalist. If you didn't know that, you may wonder how it is possible for a journalist to be a Christian (grin), but that's a discussion for another day. The fact is that Muggeridge was a journalist, and in his lectures that later became the little book, The End of Christendom, Muggeridge notes some problems with the media. Here is the quote from pages 38-39.

"A strange thing I have observed over many years in this business of news gathering and news presentation is that by some infallible process media people always manage to miss the most important thing. It's almost as though there were some built-in propensity to do this. In moments of humility, I realize that if I had been correspondent in the Holy Land at the time of our Lord's ministry, I should almost certainly have spent my time knocking about with the entourage of Pontius Pilate, finding out what the Sanhedrin was up to, and lurking around Herod's court with the hope of signing up Salome to write her memoirs exclusively. I regret that this is true. Ironically enough, as the dramatization of the public scene gains impetus, so we move farther and farther from the reality of things and become more and more preoccupied with fantasy."

That last line gave me pause. Here is Muggeridge, speaking in 1978, addressing the problem of news and reality. I understand this paragraph to be saying that even in '78, Muggeridge saw signs of the media's "dramatization of the public scene" as opposed to the straightforward reporting of "the reality of things." Is this some kind of reference to "making the news" versus "reporting the news"? Perhaps, but more to the point is the reference to the danger of becoming "more and more preoccupied with fantasy." This remark certainly sounds a lot like "reality" TV, doesn't it?

Think about it--we neglect our "real" lives to tune in to shows that purport to show us "reality" on TV. Yet these very shows are more interested in the dramatization of an "unrealistic" setting than in offering us "reality." We strand a bunch of people on an island, encourage them to stab each other in the back, film the results, edit that film, and then call it "reality!" Does anyone else appreciate the irony?

We take the desire among most humans for a loving relationship, find some single guy, set him up with a choice of several gorgeous women, and then film their responses as the fat hits the fan. Then we call it "reality" TV!

We put a bunch of has-been celebrities together in a house, encourage them to participate in shenanigans, then we call it "reality."

Why are we obsessed with this stuff? Could it be that our own "reality" is so mundane that we want a substitute reality for it?

We all know that (like TV wrestling) most of these "reality" shows follow a script and are edited to elicit a certain response, yet we persist in calling them "reality" TV!

Muggeridge was practically prophetic here. Look at the major cable "news" networks--don't you see basic "dramatization" of events instead of a reporting of "things"? Why does the coverage of MSNBC, CNN, and even Fox look the same? We are living in the age of reality dramatization predicted by Muggeride almost 30 years ago!

What do you think?