School lunch

I'm back on the school lunchroom social circuit. Last Friday I joined a 2nd grader from church at her school for lunch. She invited me. That makes me way cool. :) As I stood there waiting for her class to make its way down the hall, I took note of the huge banners that hung on the wall. They had big words printed on them, like integrity, cooperation, honesty etc. and included stick figures depicting the honorable trait listed. Some of the stick figures were kind of funny looking...maybe even scary looking. As I stood there looking at those banners, I began to wonder if having those banners up really instills those values in kids. Do posters advocating Respect really cause more respect to be given? I wonder.

I also continue to wonder why the lunch room always has to be so quiet. I mean, aren't those kids expected to be quiet and attentive all day long? Couldn't they have 30 minutes to just laugh and be silly with their friends? I'm sure from the perspective of the teachers, it can get old to hear the yelling and loud voices day after day, but I wonder if that's really the kids' problem.

Today I ate at a middle school. Middle schoolers are great. They'll talk to you just because you're there. I get the occasional, "Who the heck are you?" but mostly the kids sitting with my youth just include me in the regular table conversation. Today was college spirit day, so students could wear college jerseys and even hats. Lots of Vols and other SEC schools represented, but a few Big 10 and ACC folks, too. I don't think I saw one jersey/hat from a Big 12 school. That's a real shame.

On a totally unrelated note, I'm really loving life in Nashville right now. There are a number of reasons for that, and I won't go into them all here, but I just want folks to know that I'm enjoying myself and really feel like I'm in a good place.

Tuesday night at Fido

Well, folks...here I sit at Fido (not Fido's) at 10:00 on Tuesday night. I'm here with a friend who was in desperate need of internet access so she could finish some work. We're definitely the cool cats sitting across from each other and both typing on our laptops, although we're not totally cool because we have Dells. Here at Fido (and most coffee shops for that matter) you pretty much need a mac to be totally cool. I swear the music skips and the entire place turns to look when I pull out my Dell. It's like those Visa commercials where the guy tries to pay in cash when everyone else is using their Visa card. And no, I'm not being sponsored by Dell and Visa to place their products in my blog.

Sitting here "late" at night reminds me of freshman year of college when I spent hours upon hours "studying"/hanging out at Rockin' Java on the main square in Kirksville, MO. Rockin' Java changed names a couple of times while I was at good old Truman State University, and I'm not sure it even still exists, but it was one of my late night haunts. I mostly drank italian sodas and the occasional mocha. I'm not sure I was all that productive there, but I loved the atmosphere and it gave me a reason to take a walk and clear my head from time to time. Shout outs to Molly Nahm, Amy Maslan, Colleen Reid, and anybody else I used to go there with. I remember nights when it was snowing outside and I so didn't want to make the trek back to campus. I wished there were underground tunnels from Rockin' Java to Centennial Hall.

There's a guy over my right shoulder who looks like a portly Art Garfunkel...mostly because of the crazy hair, but also because of his nose. I wonder if he ever gets the "hey, you kind of look like Art Garfunkel." In high school, when I had hair down to my shoulders and a one inch goatee, people used to tell me I looked like the lead singer of Spin Doctors. That guy and I have both since cut our hair. I saw the Spin Doctors at a club here in Nashville last year. It was kind of surreal. I felt like more people should have been wearing army boots, blue jeans, t-shirts with a band name on them, and flannel shirts tied around their waists. Apparently that's not cool anymore.


Why coffee shops? Why are they the place to go and hang out? We didn't have the wireless free internets back in the day, but we still went to Rockin' Java to study. What's that about? Is it the groovy music? Is it the caffeine? Is it the mix of cushy chairs for those who want to lounge and the hard wooden tables and chairs for those who really need to stay awake? Yeah, why coffee shops?

Why bottled water is lame

So, bottled water really bothers me. It bothers me that people buy it by the case, drink half of a bottle, and then throw it away. It bothers me in so many ways. Here's an article from The Week that made my day: The High Price of Bottled Water.

Check it out and let me know what you think.

What's up with the word "Beautiful"?

So, I was cruising around Nashville and Brentwood today, and I flipped to our local Way FM radio station. You know, the one with uplifting music that's safe for the whole family? As if safety is our call as Christians. But, that's another issue for another post. The song that started as soon as I flipped to The Way was Beautiful One by Jeremy Camp. Here are the lyrics to the chorus:

Beautiful one I love
Beautiful one I adore
Beautiful one my soul must sing
Beautiful one I love you
Beautiful one I adore
Beautiful one my soul must sing

As I listened, and actually caught myself singing along, because, let's face it, Jeremy Camp is catchy, I stopped to wonder why "beautiful" seems to be such an important praise song word these days. David Crowder Band's There is no one like you begins like this:

You are more beautiful
Than anyone ever
Everyday You're the same
You never change, no never

Again, an emphasis on God being beautiful. Now, I'm pretty sure that both Jeremy Camp and David Crowder are singing about God as Trinity, and not singing specifically to their boyfriend Jesus, because that would be utterly ridiculous, seeing as Jesus was despised and the prophets talk about him not being beautiful. But even singing about God's beauty sounds strange to me. Why would beauty even matter? Is this one of those "allowing who God is to redefine a word" kind of things? Well, I decided to come back and do some work with a concordance. Just how often is God called beautiful in scripture?

Um, how about never. That's right, not once is God referred to as beautiful. God's word is called beautiful. God's holy mountain and zion are called beautiful. Kings and messengers are called beautiful. There are a lot of beautiful women in Scripture. Wisdom is called beautiful. There are some beautiful garlands being placed on heads. There are even some proverbs and prophetic words that deride beauty as something not to be pursued. But God, in God's self is never called beautiful. I suppose if you want to take the 5 or 6 times the lovers in Song of Solomon call each other beautiful as justification for all this talk of God being beautiful and whatnot, well, I guess that's OK, but not really.

So, what does it say about the contemporary Christian music movement that beauty has become a definitive description of who God is in God's very self? What about one's faith would lead them to perceive God as beautiful? Even if we grant that God might be beautiful, how does that redefine our cultural norms about beauty? Might beautiful be kind of a charged word to use?

OK, enough cynicism for today. As always, comments that help to clarify and enlighten are always welcome and encouraged. Peace to you all.

A prayer for world unity

This prayer from Zaire is found in the Prayers for the World section of the Book of Common Worship: Daily Prayer edition. I found it to be especially poignant in light of current world events.

O God,
you love justice and you establish peace on earth.
We bring before you the disunity of today's world:
the absurd violence, and the many wars,
which are breaking the courage of the peoples of the world;
militarism and the armaments race, which are threatening life on the planet;
human greed and injustice,
which breed hatred and strife.
Send your Spirit and renew the face of the earth;
teach us to be compassionate toward the whole human family;strengthen the will of all those who fight for justice and for peace;
lead all nations into the path of peace,
and give us that peace which the world cannot give.
Amen.

Amendments Five and Six

Amendment V

No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime, unless on a presentment or indictment of a grand jury, except in cases arising in the land or naval forces, or in the militia, when in actual service in time of war or public danger; nor shall any person be subject for the same offense to be twice put in jeopardy of life or limb; nor shall be compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself, nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor shall private property be taken for public use, without just compensation.

Amendment VI

In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to a speedy and public trial, by an impartial jury of the state and district wherein the crime shall have been committed, which district shall have been previously ascertained by law, and to be informed of the nature and cause of the accusation; to be confronted with the witnesses against him; to have compulsory process for obtaining witnesses in his favor, and to have the assistance of counsel for his defense.

So, these are Amendments five and six of the Constitution of the United States of America (bold emphasis has been added by the editors here at Renderings). As I hear more about this Padilla case, I wonder if the Bush administration has read these two amendments. I mean, three years of sitting in solitary confinement while the government searched for enough evidence to try him? This guy is a citizen of the United States! Is that what the military is overseas protecting? The right of our own government to deny a U.S. citizen due process and the right to a speedy and public trial? Regardless of whether this guy is guilty, I think it's a shame that he was treated as guilty before being proven innocent. Strike, oh, a million against Bush and Darth Cheney.

Missouri State Fair 2007

That's right, folks! It's State Fair time in the Show-Me state, and for one glorious day, I was there. My Mom and Dad and I loaded into the white Buick LeSabre and made the one hour trek to Sedalia, MO, the home of the Missouri State Fair. We spent the day walking from place to place, including stops at the commercial buildings, which are now air conditioned (I mean, what's up with that?), the highway patrol building, the conservation department (see pic of Smokey the bear below), the swine barn (where we saw goats being judged), various agriculture buildings, and a mule barn with no mules (sad day).

Now, as some of you may know, my favorite part of any fair is the food. Here's the rundown of the food I ate while at the Missouri State Fair:

• Chocolate Milk at the Farm Bureau building
• Hard boiled egg soaked in something sweet at the Poultry tent
• Pork burger at the Pork: The Other White Meat tent
• Funnel cake from a stand
• Beef jerky from an agricultural building
• Budweiser Select from the All American beer tent (lots of bad country being pumped through the speakers there)
• Chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream from the American Dairy Association building

Things noticably missing from my list:

• Fried twinkie. Apparently these aren't as readily available as they were two years ago.
• Huge Mountain Dew logo tub filled with Mountain Dew. I saw them being carried around but never bought one.
• Corn dog. Had the opportunity but was full.
• Frozen lemonade.

All in all, an excellent day at the fair. Here are some pics from the day (including one of the amazing hat that I bought).

Mom communes with the llamas

Me with Smokey the bear. Only you and all that good stuff.

My new Missouri State Fair 2007 hat. Come on, you know you want one.

Me with a red tractor. Enough said.

Mom with Otto (the Missouri Highway Patrol talking car). He remembered her.

Me and Dad having a beer.

Landscapes matter

The space teaches and landscapes matter. As a midwestern child at heart, I find the landscape of midwestern farmland to be extremely comforting. While driving from Nashville to Columbia, MO this past weekend, I drove through some of that comforting farmland. There were no mountains to break one's view...not even small hills. Nothing but corn and soybeans and wheat for as far as the eye could see. Various shades of green, brown, tan, and yellow marking crops in various stages of growth and development and harvest. Cingular/ATT wireless commercials abounding as trees, adjacent crops, telephone poles, and even houses lined up to signify more bars in more places. In midwestern farmland, the tall stuff is so conspicuous. The things that used to dominate the higher echalons of the midwestern pastoral landscape were church steeples, water towers, and silos...mostly silos...fewer water towers...scattered steeples. All three representing sustenance of one sort or another. The things that protruded from the ground and dwarfed the ever growing stalks of corn and wheat represented nourishment of both the body and the soul. There's something to be said about the waters of baptism and the wheat that is used to make bread for holy communion and the church where these holy sacraments live and dwell and challenge and sustain...yeah there's something to be said, but I'm not sure what it is. Silos, water towers, and steeples, oh my. Those used to dominate the landscape and draw the eye, and they still do, but now they share the skies with cell towers. Actually, the cell towers dwarf the silos and towers and steeples just as they used to dwarf the corn and the wheat. Cell towers always in view. I suppose they represent an element of sustenance...the sustenance of communication with loved ones. But somehow they jar the eyes as they stand there in the midst of all the other landmarks of the midwestern landscape. Question: What do the protruding, tall things say about a culture?

I really love the midwestern landscape. I love seeing the patchwork quilt of crops. I love seeing the barns and silos of varying size, shape, and color. I love seeing that old church off in the distance that probably stood long before cars were whizzing by on an interstate highway. I love the occasional cattle that stand there chewing their cud and whipping their tails to chase away flies and gnats. I love being able to see to visual infinity...being able to see rain coming from miles away...being able to see the shadows of large masses of clouds as they meander by overhead...being able to see so far. I really do love the midwestern landscape.

Perseverance of the Saints

On Monday afternoon I made a pastoral visit to Ms. Mary Smith. She's an 87 year old lady who is a total pillar of the body of Christ as it's found at 3077 Hillsboro Road. She's the woman at Harpeth who lovingly prepares the communion elements the first Sunday of every month. Unfortunately, on Saturday night, she took a spill and dislocated her shoulder, so she was unable to make it to church to prepare the elements this month. Then, on Sunday afternoon, she found out that her sister, who had recently moved to hospice card, had died. Thus the pastoral visit on Monday afternoon. When I asked her how she was doing, she recounted her fall and told me that The Lord must have been with her on Saturday night, because it could have been so much worse. As the conversation shifted to the loss of her sister, she expressed sorrow in losing her sister, but also expressed great joy in knowing that she was in the loving arms of God. So much faith...faith that isn't about theological assertions or formulas or doctrines...faith that simply trusts in God to be good, because, "Alan, God has always been so good to me." In the previous two days, she has fallen, dislocated her shoulder, hit her face on the way down, and lost her sister, and she sits there and genuinely professes "God has always been so good to me." Amazing...absolutely amazing. I pray that I might have that kind of faith...faith that simply trusts in the goodness of God and proclaims it, even in the midst of hardship and adversity. Thanks be to God for Ms. Mary Smith.

At the 'netta

So, I'm currently sitting in the lobby of the Historic Inn here at Massanetta Springs. We're in the middle of our second week of middle school conferences. It's been an amazing experience serving as the keynoter for the conference. Thanks to the help of a ten member team of youth "enablers," I think the keynotes have gone well and have been well received. The theme for this conference has been Signed. Sealed. Delivered. and our key scripture has been Exodus 3:1-12 (Moses and the burning bush). As last week was unfolding, I remember experiencing many blog-able moments but never really had the time to sit down and get them out. Now that I'm just chillin' out, it seems that my memory has failed me for the most part. Here's what I do remember:

• It's fun to simply play with middle schoolers. They're not "too cool" yet. Seeing the many games being played during station rec reminded me that I need to mix up the games back at Harpeth.
• Speaking of Harpeth, I find myself really missing "my" youth. As fun stuff is happening, I wish I could share it with the youth that make up my daily life back in Williamson County. More than ever, I'm committed to getting youth to Montreat next year.
  
• The enablers here are amazing. Enablers are hs youth who apply to serve as leaders for the middlers who come here. They really take a lot of initiative and make this conference run. It reminds me that youth really can take a huge part in leading if given the right training and adequate opportunities.

For now, that's all I've got. Maybe I'll find time this week to blog as stuff happens.

Summer chaos

So, I'm sitting at Fido (not Fido's, as I have recently learned) on a Saturday afternoon, frantically trying to pull my disparate thoughts together for the sermon I'm supposed to preach tomorrow. The text is Luke 7:36-50 if anyone happens to read this today and have thoughts. You know, in some ways, preaching is easier now that I've been doing it once a month for two years, but in many ways, it's just as hard as it ever was. For my great love of "the word" and liturgy and language and worship, I have hard time getting it together for "the sermon." Somehow it feels more and more false. I suppose I'm not saying anything the emergent folks haven't already been saying for years now, but there it is.

On a totally unrelated note, I'm staring summer chaos in the face. Bible school starts on Monday, I leave for a mission trip on Friday, return on a Sunday10 days later, and then leave for Massanetta Springs the day after that. Will I still be standing on July 13th? "I will, with God's help."

I haven't been home to CoMo since Christmas. By the time I get back there in August or September, I believe I will have been away longer than ever in my life. I know that the visits will be fewer and fewer as I put down deeper roots here in middle Tennessee, but sometimes I just want to walk out the front door of 1714, hop on my bike, and ride downtown for coffee at The Coffee Zone, lunch at Shakespeare's, and a stroll through Cool Stuff just to see what they have.

Back to the sermon..."Open my eyes that I may see" and all that good stuff.

Two totally unrelated thoughts

Totally unrelated thought number one: In the past few days, I've come across the term Bible believing Christian or Bible believing church a couple of times. Honestly, I really dislike that term Bible believing. I'm not exactly sure why. I think those who use it would say that a Bible believing Christian is one who believes that the Bible is true (maybe even inerrant) and that it's God's word to us. They might even use a capital W in word. I guess part of my objection to the term is the same one raised by Luther (or some other reformed theologian) that said that Christians are sometimes liable to worship the manger instead of the baby in the manger (the manger being the Bible and the baby being Jesus Christ). In the end, I don't place my faith and trust in Scripture, but in the loving arms of the One who we encounter in Scripture. Do I think the Bible is true? Yes. Do I think it's inerrant? No. Do I believe in the Bible? I'm not sure. I'm just not sure believing in the Bible is semantically correct. Now, I know I'm opening the door to be called a heretic and a (oh my gosh, the biggest insult some can think to give) a liberal, or a relativist, or some other label, but I'm willing to take that risk. Somebody help me see why Bible believing is something I should embrace.

Totally unrelated though number two: What's up with stars like Lindsay Lohan and Britney Spears popping in and out of rehab like it's a bed and breakfast? Is rehab really something you do for a week and then check yourself out of? What leads stars like that to seek the highs of cocaine and/or the numbness of alcohol? Where are these stars' friends? I mean the real friends. The ones who know them deeply and intimately. Do they have those people in their lives? Living as one who is "recognized" by everyone but not "known" might have something do with the destructive behavior. I find myself being frustrated by people like Lindsey Lohan who complain about how difficult their lives are, and yet in the grand scheme of things, they have it so great. It's all relative I suppose. Does the church have anything to offer these self-destructive starts? How do we minister to such people? How do we offer an alternative narrative to those entrenched in the world of stardom?

Waiting for somebody to push him

This past weekend, my sister and her husband came to visit. We explored Franklin and Nashville, heard some live bluegrass, went to church, visited The Hermitage (the home of Andrew Jackson), and went to the zoo. While we were at the zoo, we were watching some sort of monkey (it had another name, but I can't think of it right now) play in it's paddock. One of them jumped on a swing of sorts, you know, the type with the log tied to trees with rope. A little girl was sitting there watching and said, "Hey, that one's waiting for somebody to push him." For some reason, that struck me as really great. How many times have we been sitting on a swing simply waiting for somebody to push us? Sure, swinging by yourself can be fun, but it's so much more thrilling to have someone pushing you as you scream, "Higher! Higher!" And then there's always the unexpected halt in the midair as the person pushing grabs the chains of the swing. So many metaphors for life there somewhere:

• Going out and coming back in.
  
• The first push to disturb inertia being the most difficult.
  
• Getting into the rhythm of life.
  
• Little nudges in the midst of the motion of life.
• Being willing to sit there and wait for somebody to push you.

For today, my mind is settling on that last one. This past Sunday at church we talked about going (or shuv-ing if you're into Hebrew), and David used the analogy of not being able to steer a parked car. But sometimes, in the midst of a go go go society, maybe we need to simply find a nice park with a swing that's completely still and simply sit there and wait for somebody to push us. Maybe we spend too much time trying to push ourselves and so we miss the joy of feeling the loving hands of God on our backs as we squeal with delight. I don't know...Maybe I'm making too much out of a little girl's comment, but I like thinking about that swing with God pushing me higher and higher.

Thoughts on worship...

So, I ran a half marathon last weekend. More on that when I have some pictures to share. For now, though, I'm reading Leaving Church by Barbara Brown Taylor. It's brilliant, as most of her writing is. Anyway, I just read this paragraph about worship and I think it captures some of the thoughts and meditations I've been having for the past 6 months or so:

If this terrific mystery is not apparent to most people sitting in the pews, then there are at least two things wrong. One is that worship has become too tame, and the other is that those who come have stopped bringing their own fire. The two may even be related, but neither is easily solved, nor am I sure that many people want them to be. Tame worship is easier to agree on than any other kind, and bringing fire requires a lot more energy than simply showing up. When life is pretty good and church is pleasant enough, who needs resurrection?

Wow! "Tame worship is easier to agree on than any other kind, and bringing fire requires a lot more energy than simply showing up." Do we who plan worship settle for "tame worship?" Do the masses who come to worship bring fire or simply show up? Who needs resurrection indeed? Powerful thoughts and a powerful question.

Thoughts on violence

So, this past Sunday was one of my weeks to preach. It was just that time in the rotation. It was when it worked out with my schedule and with David's schedule. I spent a better part of last Monday morning reading Acts 9:1-19 (Saul's blinding experience on the road to Damascus). For some reason, I left my e-mail alone and didn't really touch base with the outside world until I got a phone call about the killings at Virginia Tech. I had just spent two hours thinking about call narratives and suddenly I knew I would be spending the week re-imagining the sermon as my community and I faced the violence of 33 dead at Virginia Tech. As the week went on, I kept clinging to the call narrative, because, let's face it, preaching about violence isn't exactly easy. But, after a couple of great conversations with my friend Emily, I decided to tackle the violence of Cho Seung Hui and hold it up next to the violence of Saul and the violence in our own hearts. Tough subject matter. Anyway, after swimming around in that water for awhile, I've come up with the following conclusions (always tentative) and questions:

• When we persecute anyone, we persecue Christ (Acts 9:4-5)
• All of us are capable of doing violence to others, and sometimes we do it in the name of justice
• Violence is never OK, even in the name of justice (sorry, no just wars for me)
• We need to be more like Ananias who reached out in reconciliation and love to one who had done violence to people he loved and might have done violence to him (Acts 9:17)
• Why is called a massacre when people die on a college campus but simply violence when it happens in a market in Baghdad?
• Why do we change the channel when the media tells us how many people have died in Iraq, Palestine, Israel, Sudan, etc. but rush home to watch never ending coverage of the Virginia Tech shooting?
• Why does the Virginia Tech shooting bother us more than those who die everyday in the war in Iraq?
• Shouldn't Christians care equally and be equally outraged?

All of this is just the tip of the iceberg of my own dealing with the current issues of violence in our society and in the world. Comment as you choose. I welcome all viewpoints. I really do ask questions in seek of answers.

Welcome to 30

That's right, folks. I've come around the bend and have joined the ranks of those who have lived for at least 30 years. I'm 30 years old. How is that possible? I can't say that 30 feels any different than 29. Anyway, here are some pictures from my birthday celebration up in Media, PA.

Andy, Wes, Me, Laurie, Shelli, John

Me and Laurie

Me and Wes

Me, my three chins, Weicher, and Shelli at the top of the Rocky steps in Philadelphia.

Timeless books

Hey gang. I just finished a book called An Ethic for Christians & Other Aliens in a Strange Land by William Stringfellow. It was first published in 1973 and yet is so apropos of 2007. Basically, Stringfellow posits that America is living under the delusion that it represents Jerusalem/Israel in the vision of the apocalypse, when it actually embodies Babylon. He asserts that death is the true idol and ruler of principalities and super powers. Anyway, near the end, as he's concluding that there really isn't hope for America to ever overcome the rule of death, the calls for Christians to live as kingdom people. Here's what he says:

In the face of death, live humanly. In the middle of chaos, celebrate the Word. Amidst babel, I repeat, speak the truth. Confront the noise and verbiage and falsehood of death with the truth and potency and efficacy of the Word of God. Know the Word, teach the Word, nurture the Word, preach the Word, defend the Word, incarnate the Word, do the Word, live the Word. And more than that, in the Word of God, expose death and all death's works and wiles, rebuke lies, cast out demons, exorcise, cleanse the possessed, raise those who are dead in mind and conscience.

Wow! This is a book that could seriously have been written last week. Stringfellow raises thoughtful questions about the power of death in the military complex in the United States and how it pervades all parts of American culture.

On a note that I think is related, I attended a middle school motivational talk about bullying today. The school is planning to implement a big anti-bullying campaign next year. It sounds like a solid program with intentional times of community between students and teachers. I wonder, though, about the hypocrisy of the drivers of a parking lot full of SUVs with W stickers sitting around in a middle school library bemoaning the act of bullying as our President uses the tactics of a bully to impose his agenda on nations around the world. Doesn't our condescending rhetoric about Israel, Palestine, Iran, and Iraq sound like bullying? Bullying is bad...unless our government does it in the name of peace. Any thoughts?

Palm Sunday Hymns

So, on Sunday (Palm Sunday), as I was singing All Glory Laud and Honor, I took special note of the refrain:

All glory, laud, and honor to Thee, Redeemer, King!
To whom the lips of children made sweet hosannas ring.

"Interesting" I thought. I never noticed that bit about the lips of children ringing out Hosannas. I mean, we always do the Palm Sunday parade with children, and this year, at Harpeth, we bordered on being Pentecostal with our shouts of Hosanna and Amen, but I never noticed that emphasis in that old classic hymn.

Then, later in the service, while we were singing Hosanna, Loud Hosanna, I noticed that the whole first verse was about little children singing Hosanna.

I stood there feeling like an idiot for never noticing that it was children who were standing along the route to Jerusalem. Did the gospels emphasize the throngs of children and I missed it. Pretty lame for a youth and families minister not to notice such a thing.

Well, upon further inspection of Scripture, it isn't until Jesus goes into the temple, after the triumphal entry that Jesus is confronted with children in the temple singing Hosanna. Of course, the Pharisees don't like it, and Jesus rephrases Psalm 8 by saying, "Out of the mouths of infants and nursing babies you ahve prepared praise for yourself."

So, while the time frame is a little bit out of sync, I'd like to give props to the 19th century hymn writers who sought to emphasize the importance of children in this narrative. In the midst of Palm Sunday parades, may our ears be specially tuned to the voices of the children who sing with joy and excitement...the children who sing out loud with no regard to whether it sounds pretty or whether it's "proper." Hosanna indeed!

Taking flack

Now that I'm looking at the word "flack" I'm not sure that's how it's spelled, but whatever. The title of this post indicates the flack I've taken from a few of you Renderings readers for not posting in awhile. I do apologize. I've been entertaining family or been out of town for the past 2.5 weeks. So, here's some thoughts I had last Saturday as I was staring out my bedroom window:

As I look out my window I see one tree with little white blossoms and tiny green leaves announcing the arrival of spring...and this juxtaposed against the tree next to it that's still clinging desperately to brown shriveled leaves of the 2006 variety. I wonder if the students/youth/teens that we minister to and with have both of these trees inside of them. Sometimes they're so excited about new things, new life, new seasons, new desires, new whatever but at the same time they're afraid to let go of the old and desperately cling to what used to be the new. And aren't we all like that to some degree? Don't we all have both trees inside of us? I wonder if these trees might provide good questions for daily examen. What new life is God calling into? What old life to you desperately cling to? Spring is such a visible example of our transition from old life to new life. We're so close to the Hallelujahs of Easter morning, but we still have to face the Hosannas of Palm Sunday and the tears of Maundy Thursday and Good Friday and the deep deep sorrow of Black Saturday. So, yeah, two trees.

Tests in English

After being thwarted by Mayor Bill Purcell in their efforts to make English the official language of Nashville, proponents of such ridiculousness have proposed a bill that would require all drivers license tests to be taken in English. I mean, seriously? Why is this such a big deal, people? Is it about terrorists? I'm sure that they're just lining up to get drivers licenses. Is it about making some statement about the importance of the English language? If so, maybe we should address all the misspelled and grammatically incorrect signs I see all over the place, or maybe outlaw text-ese. I just don't understand why we can't let people take exams in their native language. What does it hurt? What is it about people speaking Spanish, French, German, Swahili, Arabic, Russian, whatever that make people so uncomfortable? Can the metro city council spend some time on issues that actually matter, like, oh, homelessness, poverty, hunger, crappy public transporatation, etc.?