A visit from Jimmy and Anna

A few weeks ago, my sister, Anna, and her husband, Jimmy came to visit. I thought I'd post some pictures from our time together. It was really great having them visit. While they were here, Jimmy took a look at my the power line coming to my dishwasher. I hadn't been able to use it for over a year, because there was no power getting to it. Well, in an evening, Jimmy installed a new power outlet and installed a regular plug on the dishwasher so I could use it again. He's the man. Anyway, here are some pics:

Slugs

Yesterday morning, I heard this piece on NPR's Morning Edition: Slugging to Work

For those of you who don't want to go read the whole article or listen to the segment, the basic gist is that in Washington, D.C. there is a system of car-pooling called "Slugging." The "slugs" wait in a line, and folks who want to be able to drive in the HOV lane pull up and call out where they're headed. The first slug in line who is going there hops in and they ride together. Here was the kicker for me: They don't share names, personal information, or really engage in any sort of meaningful conversation.

When I finished listening to the segment on the radio, I felt sad. As the report mentions, there are people spending hours of their lives in the confined space of a car with other people and they aren't connecting on any level deeper than a slug connects to a piece of driftwood as it floats down the river. While I understand the realities of a world where people have limited time for relationships, I think I'd have a hard time being a slug.

So, I wondered later, why is that any different than riding the bus or on a plane while listening to my ipod and reading The Atlantic? Somehow it feels different, especially if it's just the driver and the slug in the car together. What kind of meaningful relationship opportunities could be lost because of rules of disengagement?

Anyway, the story made me sad.

Recouping the cost of my seminary education

Last night I joined some friends for Team Trivia at a local pizza joint. This particular team of folks has a pretty good record at Team Trivia. Seldom do we finish out of the top three, and we often win. This week we were struggling a bit and were right in the thick of things leading into the final round and final question. Twice during the evening, information garnered from being a seminary trained member of the clergy came in handy. The first question came early in the evening, while the second was the final and decisive question that allowed us to bury everyone else by 20 points, thus allowing me to recoup $25 of the cost of my seminary education in the form of house cash.

So, Renderings fans, here are the questions. The answers will follow tomorrow:

1. One word may be used to describe the following three things:
1. A holy sacramental bread
2. What a parasite feeds off of
   
3. Alex Trebek

What is the word?

2. The last book of the New Testament is called Revelation (the guy running trivia said "Revelations" but I let that slide). What else is the book of Revelation called?

Please hold off on answering in the comments section so others may have the fun of trying to figure it out.

Last Sundy

Last Sunday, Mother's Day, was a day full of random thoughts for the publisher of Renderings. Here are my random thoughts/happenings in a quazi timeline:

• 8:30 As I was making announcements at our early/breakfast service, I couldn't keep my mind on the announcements. I was mostly distracted by all of the people who were talking while I was trying to make announcements about stuff like, oh, Confirmation Sunday, Graduating Senior Recognition Sunday, when we go to one service for the summer. But then, as I was making announcements, I saw someone drinking from a tumbler mug that I could swear was my WPLN mug that I received for pledging. As I'm asking for other announcements, I keep a darting eye on the mug, all the while thinking, "Is that my mug? Did I use it last week and it made its way into the assorted mug collection? Surely she didn't take that from my office? Maybe she pledged to WPLN, too. I'm being ridiculous. Still, I'm checking that out after worship." Yeah, who knows what other announcements were made. In the end, as I was leaving to teach Confirmation class, I saw that it was a mug of the same color and type, but with some other logo on it. Yes, in all of my attempts to "figure it out" there was a possibility I never considered.
• Lesson One: You can think something to death and still not find "the truth."

• 9:45 I began Confirmation class 15 minutes late, hoping that the entire HALF of the class that was absent would show up. No luck. This was the last class before the actual day of confirmation, and half of them simply weren't there. Apparently one family had a crisis involving a cat that got away, one kid sheepishly comes in after his covenant partner went looking for him, and, well, the last one, who knows?
• Lesson Two: Not everyone takes things as seriously as I do, and that bothers me more than it probably should.

• 1:00 pm I was on my way to the car to leave for Missouri after eating lunch with my lovely girlfriend, and she asked if I wanted to run in the mall to buy some sort of fancy deodorant. "This is a search and destroy mission," she said. I decided that this was an invitation I should say yes to. We made our way to the fancy store, bought the deodorant, looked at some lamps at Restoration Hardware on the way out of the mall and then had the awkward kiss and hug in the parking lot. Upon telling this story to my Mom, she said that "Do you want to come with me to buy deodorant?" translates to "I want to spend 10 more minutes with you before you leave."
  
• Lesson Three: Girls are funny.
  

• 4:30 pm I stopped at Kentucky Exit 3 on I-24, because that's a cheap gas exit. I decided to hit the BP instead of the Pilot this time. The BP ended up being much smaller, but whatever. I decided to buy some coffee for the road. In my attempt to "Go Green" I brought in my travel mug. I tried to buy some cake in a cup, you know, french vanilla cappucino, but it was out. Figures. After loading up on some flavored coffee-mate and coffee, I got in line behind the 8 people who had come by to buy gas and other things in the 5 minutes it took me to pour my coffee. I stood there watching as person after person actually pays for the gas they've already pumped with cash. I didn't even know you could do that anymore. After standing there for 10 minutes, I was determined never to come back to the localsville BP. Then, when I put my coffee and my Little Debbie Star Crunch on the counter, it rings up as 50 cents or something like that. I ask the woman behind the counter if she got my coffee. "Yeah," she says "coffee refills are 27 cents." I'm gonna stop there every time from now on. Talk about rewarding folks for going green.
• Lesson Four: Patience is a virtue I need to cultivate.

I eventually arrived back in Columbia, MO safely and had a wonderful time wishing my Mom a happy Mother's Day and Birthday (yes on the same day this year). It's amazing how many little lessons one can learn in a single day.

I was on my way home from my favorite Nashville coffee shop (Fido) today, and I saw this sign at the gas station around the corner. That's right, folks, Regular gas now costs an arm, Middle level gas costs a leg, and Premium will actually cost you your first born child. I definitely chuckled as I drove by.

Seminary: Moses style

OK, so for all of you seminarians and previous seminarians out there who complained about all the hoops we had to jump through (and there were numerous ridiculous, sometimes seemingly fire-lit hoops), at least Moses wasn't still in charge. I don't think I've ever paid attention to this little passage from Exodus. There is seriously some crazy stuff in the Bible:

Exodus 32:21-29

²¹Moses said to Aaron, "What did this people do to you that you have brought so great a sin upon them?" ²²And Aaron said, "Do not let the anger of my lord burn hot; you know the people, that they are bent on evil. ²³They said to me, 'Make us gods, who shall go before us; as for this Moses, the man who brought us up out of the land of Egypt, we do not know what has become of him.' ²⁴So I said to them, 'Whoever has gold, take it off'; so they gave it to me, and I threw it into the fire, and out came this calf!"

²⁵When Moses saw that the people were running wild (for Aaron had let them run wild, to the derision of their enemies), ²⁶then Moses stood in the gate of the camp, and said, "Who is on the Lord’s side? Come to me!" And all the sons of Levi gathered around him. ²⁷He said to them, "Thus says the LORD, the God of Israel, 'Put your sword on your side, each of you! Go back and forth from gate to gate throughout the camp, and each of you kill your brother, your friend, and your neighbor.'" ²⁸The sons of Levi did as Moses commanded, and about three thousand of the people fell on that day. ²⁹Moses said, "Today you have ordained yourselves for the service of the LORD, each one at the cost of a son or a brother, and so have brought a blessing on yourselves this day."

I mean, the Levites basically wreaked some major havoc on the people of Israel for their idolatry. They slaughtered people! I don't care how many ords I had to take; that is some bad ass shit (and yes, I just cussed on my blog...I think this is one of those times when the emphasis is worth it).

If I were independently wealthy

So, if I were independently wealthy, after I paid for clean water for the world, and set up endowments to fight hunger and poverty and AIDS and other awful things in the world, I would totally endow my local NPR station so that they never had to do fundraising drives. I hate fundraising week on NPR. Please, some totally wealthy person in Nashville, endow WPLN with a bajillion dollars so I never have to hear again how important my support is. Oy!

Can you believe this?

The 10:30 worship service at Harpeth is our more "traditional" service, complete with a ringing of the Harpeth bell and moment for silence after we make announcements and share prayer concerns.  Well, yesterday there was a new family visiting Harpeth during the 10:30 worship service.  As everyone else bowed their heads for the moment of silence, the mother of said family said to her little boy, "this is quiet time," to which he responded in a full voice, "I don't wanna be quiet."  Then, as we all stood to sing our first hymn, he said, "I don't wanna stand up."  At this point, half the congregation was chuckling and most of the choir at the front of the sanctuary was trying not to lose it.  When we finished singing that first hymn, the little boy proclaimed, "Can you believe this?"  as if to say, "Isn't this awesome!"  It was a wonderful moment in Harpeth history.  I'm still laughing about it, but not only laughing.  I've also been thinking about it.

I think that little boy was totally excited about a place where everybody sings and where a violin plays along and where there's standing up and sitting down and all kinds of other stuff to see and do.  I wonder when was the last time that any of us regular worship attendees just took a moment to say, "Can you believe this?"  Can you believe that all these people are here to worship God?  Can you believe the amazing lyrics of that hymn we just sang?  Can you believe that we get to share in a ritual of breaking bread and pouring juice that goes all the way back to Jesus?  Can you believe that we dare to put water on people's heads and proclaim to the world that they are children of God?  Can you believe all of this?  That little boy helped me to experience worship, not so much in a new way, but in a re-newed way...a way that marvels in the glorious nature of worship.

Stuff I've seen/heard lately

There are so many times during the day when I see/hear random stuff and do a little commentary on it in my brain.  Today's post is a collection of some of the recent stuff I've seen/heard.

Red mini-van with a spinner rim on the back right tire and no hubcap of any kind on the front right tire-I didn't see the left side of the car, but I'm gonna go ahead and give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that those tires had spinners.  But, come one.  A mini-van with spinners?  I feel like that's a bit ridiculous.

Click on this link to hear a very moving story on npr.org: Report: American Death Toll in Iraq War Hits 4,000:  It's about a Major in the Army who was recently laid to rest at Arlington Cemetary.  Something about this story nearly had me in tears.  4,000 of our soldiers dead...that number doesn't even include the Iraqis who have lost their lives in this senseless war.  It just makes me so sad...

Billboard with this slogan: Loans For the Wealthy.com.  Yes, a website solely devoted to helping the wealthy get more money.  We don't bother to loan money to poor people, because, you know, they'll never pay it back anyway, and wealthy people need more advantages in this world as it is.  Add to this my daily drive by Legends Ridge, a huge suburban neighborhood with mansions scattered on a verdant hillside, and I wonder if anybody's paying attention.

OK, that's all I can remember for now.  Here are some pictures from Guatemala for those who really look at blogs for pictures and not the ramblings.  :)

Slacker

Yes, I'm a slacker. I haven't blogged in a month and a half, or something like that. I keep meaning to, and then, well, I don't. Here's a quick update before I head to Guatemala for a week:

• My lenten discipline this year has been to write a letter to someone every day except Sunday. I haven't been as "disciplined" as I'd like, but it's been fun thinking of folks to write.
• I drove to Davidson, NC on Wednesday and my care was covered with salt and other gross stuff. I was going to get it washed when I got home. God decided to do it for me. It rained most of the way home, so now my car looks beautiful. I thought that was cool.
• I'm headed to Guatemala tomorrow with the Presbyterian Student Fellowship from Vanderbilt University. Look for pictures from that trip soon.
• I went to London at the end of January with my Dad. I posted pictures on my Facebook, but not here. I guess I'll put those up when I do the Guatemala pictures. Going on a vacation with my Dad now that I'm kind of a grown up was really cool. If any of you get the chance to travel with one of your parents, take it. I can't imagine that you'd ever look back on it and say, "Wow, I really wish I would have stayed home and worked that week."
• I'm reading The Golden Compass trilogy right now. So far, I have no earthly idea why the crazy conservatives have been on the rampage about it. I'll let you know what I think when I'm done.
• OK, now get off my case about not blogging. :)

Adventures in Missing the Point: Worship

I'm close to wrapping up Adventures in Missing the Point by Brian McLaren and Tony Campolo. It's a great book that takes a look at a variety of theological/ecclesiological/practical topics and challenges the way we have typically thought about such things. I think this would be a great book to do for Sunday school or an adult book study. It includes great discussion questions at the end of each chapter.

Anyway, today, as I was reading the section on worship, I came across these words by Brian McLaren:

Worship leadership that fails to explore new territory (but rather dispenses products designed in an industry that has as its unspoken aim to deliver a good feeling 52 times a year) can inadvertently lead us not into worship but into temptation. And that's missing the point.

For some reason, I found these words to be particularly profound. He goes on to challenge those who claim that worship is all about attaining "The feeling" or "The High" that comes from encountering the presence of God. I often wonder if, in the course of 52 weeks in any given year, we worship leaders are intentional about exploring the depths of spiritual expression as found in Scripture. To be sure, the Bible isn't just a long list of people for whom life is fabulous and joyous. Do we avoid lament Psalms because people might leave worship feeling blue? Do we stay away from the Prophets because they sound too political, and we might offend someone? Do we go for the "feel good" moments instead of the "faithful to the text" moments? Definitely some questions to keep me thinking for awhile.

In Today's World, the Well-Rested Lose Respect

This morning, when I got into my car at 8:30, after sleeping in on my day off, this newspiece began to play on NPR: In Today's World, the Well-Rested Lose Respect.

For those of you who don't want to follow the link and/or listen to the 8 minute story, the basic gist is that sleeping less has become a certain badge of honor in our contemporary culture. People brag that they only need five hours of sleep, when in reality, they probably need more. This story also addresses the prevailing myth, propagated by morning people, that success and productivity are directly tied to getting up early, even if it means losing sleep.

As someone who much prefers to get up between 8:30 and 9:00, I can tell you that I am often a victim of prejudice at the hands of the early risers. Somehow I'm seen as lazy or non-productive because I don't want to be up before the sun. I can tell you that on more than one occasion I've wanted to say mean things to those who chastise my desire to be well-rested. I mean, especially considering my occupation, what good would it really do for me to be up at 6:00 everyday. Are the youth at Harpeth clamoring for theological inquiry and pastoral care at 6:00 am? I doubt it. Is the Holy Spirit more likely to breath inspiration into Scripture at 6:30 am? Doubtful.

Anyway, it's good to hear that there's some scientific basis for my claim that being well rested has its advantages in overall productivity. Perhaps my next blog entry can be about my concerns with "productivity" as the gold standard by which our lives should be measured. For now, though, I think I'll enjoy my day off.

Mr. Alan

When I was home for Christmas, I was telling a story about the amazing, brilliant, precocious Lucy King and I quoted her as calling me "Mr. Alan." My family all chuckled. You see, in the midwest, we don't call adults by Mr. (insert first name). If we use Mr. or Ms. or Mrs. we use their last name. Otherwise, we just use their first name. This causes me to wonder why, in southern culture, adults are called Mr. or Ms. or Mrs. First Name. Is it a hybrid of respect for authority and familiarity? Anybody have a good answer for that?

Last Sunday's sermon

I'm not usually one for posting my sermons online (mostly because I know there are a dozen people who are better preachers than I am out there reading this), but I've received some good feedback on this one and thought I'd throw it out there:

The Story Goes On
by Alan Bancroft
Preached at Harpeth Presbyterian Church 12/30/07

Isn’t Christmas a lovely time of year? There are presents to open, cookies to eat, friends and family to see, parties to attend, songs of cheer and joy to listen to, twinkling lights to see on houses and on trees. Christmas really can be a lovely time of year. We love watching the redemption of Ebenezer Scrooge in A Christmas Carol and the Peanuts gang make a lovely Christmas out of a spindly tree. We think about Rudolph and Frosty and Santa and oh, of course, Jesus in the manger…God with us…joy to the world…peace on earth…all that good stuff. And then we come to church on the last Sunday of the year and we get slapped in the face with this story of Joseph and Mary fleeing in the middle of the night, with Jesus in their arms, for fear of infanticide at the hands of Herod’s men. Some of you might want your money back, and I wouldn’t blame you.

This is one of those stories we don’t like to tell very often. I didn’t check for sure, but I doubt it’s in the scope and sequence for our workshop rotation Sunday school. Most of the time, we read about the shepherds, then the wise men, then something about Jesus being smart in the temple as a kid, and then, wham! Jesus is in Galilee preaching and teaching the good news.

But, I have a feeling that the early hearers of this story, probably Jewish people…Jewish people who knew the stories of the Hebrew Bible, those early hearers would have found this story quite fascinating. In a short ten verses, Matthew manages to evoke some of the greatest stories of the Hebrew Bible. Before I read it, I asked you to put on your Hebrew Bible/Old Testament listening ears. Did you hear anything? Did you hear echoes of the great dreamers of the Old Testament like Abraham, Jacob, Joseph, and Samuel who are told by God to go somewhere? Did you hear the echoes of the story of Moses and the liberation of the Hebrew people as Joseph fled to Egypt? Did you hear the cries of the Hebrew women of Moses’ time as Pharaoh murdered the innocent children so that the Hebrew people might not become too powerful? Did you hear the voice of the prophets who promised hope for people who were exiles in a strange land during the Babylonian occupation of Israel? If you didn’t, you must not be a very good Jew.

This story not only hearkens back to the history of Israel, but actually foreshadows what is to come in the life of this infant who is whisked away in the middle of the night. Just as Herod was threatened by the rumor of a new king being born, the people in positions of authority and power when Jesus is an adult will be threatened by the many ways in which Jesus threatens the status quo. Jesus will spend his life under threat of destruction, and, even though it may seem strange to talk about it the Sunday after Christmas, we know that the powers eventually succeed in taking Jesus out and shutting him up, even if only for a little while.

You see, that’s what people like Pharaoh and Herod and Pilate do. They go to any length to hold onto the earthly power that they’ve been given. They will dismiss those who ask too many questions about the least of these and the way they’re treated. They will actually destroy those who claim an authority and power that doesn’t bow down to their own. That’s what the powers do. In the case of today’s story, Herod hears that one Hebrew child will grow up to be a king and the son of God, and when the wise men refuse to come and give him the exact identity of the child, Herod decides it would be better to destroy every child two years and younger in and around Bethlehem. Take a moment and think about that. Every child under the age of two was torn from the hands of its mother and mercilessly slaughtered. For years and years to come, the absence of any children of those ages would be felt. Imagine if every year, for 12 years, two grades of children were missing. It’s gruesome. It’s awful. It’s unimaginable. How could people in that time be so evil and twisted and unconcerned for the welfare of innocent children? It seems unfathomable to us, and yet…and yet, folks, every generation of powers does it, and the powers are still doing it today.

Some of you lived through World War II and saw the abominations of the Holocaust, and after that horrible atrocity, the world said, “Never Again,” but it keeps happening. A couple of weeks ago, I asked Ooney Dreher, who is deeply involved with the Nations Ministry Center, to give me some insight into the story of the Burundi people who have been resettled in Nashville over the past year or so. Here’s what she had to say:

This past summer, over 100 people, men women and children from Burundi, were resettled in Nashville. They came from a refugee camp in Tanzania but that is not where their story begins.

Burundi is a small country in Africa, next to Rwanda and Uganda. In 1972, the government ordered politically motivated mass killings and chaos ensued. Families were torn apart as everyone literally ran for their lives. With crazed militants bursting into homes, the people of the villages scattered, ruining families and leaving many with no family at all. A group of wandering Burundis were accepted into a Rwandan refugee camp. Over the years, new families were formed from men, women and children who arrived with no one. These people adapted and made the best of the crowded, minimal camp. They rebuilt their lives and regained order and routine. The ugliness of their past became a memory but the loss of loved ones remained fresh.

Twenty years later, in 1992, the Rwandan genocide happened. Again, these refugees found themselves running for their lives. Unable to understand why this was happening, they scrambled and eluded the crazy men with guns again. This time a group of the Burundis’ found a refugee camp in Tanzania. Again, they settled in and made their new homes. The Tanzanian government offered them some primary schooling primarily to teach them Swahili so they could communicate with government officials. These refugees were not allowed to work, or leave the camp so they kept themselves busy with gardening and bartering goods for services. The UN brought in 3 meals a day, and the refugees learned to survive…again…in tents and overcrowded conditions.

This past summer, the United States offered refuge to over 300 Burundi refugees from the Tanzanian camp. The Tanzanian government wants to reclaim the refugee camp site for their own people. There are many refugees in this camp from all over, but the Burundi group are unique because they have no homes to return to. They are a generation or two removed from actually living in Burundi. Most of them have been born into or have only known refugee camp life. Some of them remember their Rwandan experience, and most of the adults speak of the loss of children, parents and extended family with an eerie detachment, as if they are quoting history, because senseless death is such a reality for them.

Friends, this oppression and slaughter of the Burundi and Rwandan people is what the powers do.

Many of you have probably seen Save Darfur signs around Nashville. The current crisis in Darfur began in 2003. After decades of neglect, drought, oppression and small-scale conflicts in Darfur, two rebel groups – the Sudanese Liberation Army/Movement (SLA/M) and the Justice and Equality Movement (JEM) – mounted an insurgency against the central government. These groups represent agrarian farmers. These were people who saw that the government of Sudan was selling all of the nation’s oil to foreign countries and failing to use that money on behalf of the Sudanese people. When they called for liberation and justice and equality, the central government of President al-Basihir responded with brutal force, by supporting local militias who rape and murder people suspected of supporting change in Sudan. Many people still live in fear of their homes being destroyed for no other reason than the powers asserting authority. World aid organizations estimate that 500,000 Sudanese have been murdered and nearly 2.5 million people now live in refugee camps in the bordering countries of Chad and the Central African Republic. This is what the powers do.

Just this past week, Bennizier Bhutto, who was a voice for democracy and justice in Pakistan, was murdered as she called for free elections. This is what the powers do.

Our story for today tells us that God, in Jesus, was forced to leave his home and live in a country where he didn’t look like anyone else, where he didn’t know the language, where some of the people still thought of his people as slaves, and where his future was uncertain. Even when Jesus’ family was able to return, they didn’t really get to go home for fear of being found out. Think about it: It would be pretty obvious if they moved back to town and Jesus was the only kid within a two year age range. Having experienced all of that, I wonder if God doesn’t have a special place in God’s heart for the refugees of Burundi and Rwanda, and Darfur. I feel quite certain that God looks at the state of affairs in Africa and cries long, heaving, sobbing cries.

And you know, I believe God invites us to mourn as well. I wish, in my preparation, deliberation, meditation, and prayer over this passage, God had sent me a revelation of what to do about Burundi and Rwanda and Darfur, but that didn’t happen. I did see three things in this passage, though, that, I think, offer some hope:

One: God refuses to let foreign occupation, genocide, or any other violence thwart God’s plans on earth. God is determined for the incarnation to reach its fulfillment in the teaching, preaching, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Whether it is through dreams, hasty trips in the middle of the night, or maybe even our own participation in seeking justice in the world, God fulfills God’s purposes.

Two: As I looked back in Jeremiah to find the original context of verse 18 where there is said to be weeping in Ramah, I found these wonderful words of God in response to the lamentation of the mothers of Israel in the midst of exile:

Thus says the Lord: Keep your voice from weeping, and your eyes from tears; for there is a reward for your work,

says the Lord: they shall come back from the land of the enemy; there is hope for your future,

says the Lord: your children shall come back to their own country.

As I think about the millions of refugees living in camps and who have made their way to other countries, I cling, even if slightly, to these words of hope…these words that God promises to fulfill…these words that assure the mourning mothers of refugees and exiles that they will eventually get to go home and live peacefully.

Three: The story goes on. The story of Israel goes on. The story of the Christ child goes on. The story of the followers of the way that become Christians goes on. Just as Jesus finds himself fulfilling a dozen stories from the past, so do we find ourselves in the story of God’s designs and dreams for creation. We find ourselves as people called to respond to God’s dreams as we search for the image of God residing in everyone who is a refugee or an exile. Despite what the powers do, the story of God’s steadfast love and abundant mercy goes on and on and on. Amen.

Christmas cards revisited

First of all, thanks to everyone who has been offering thoughts on my previous post about Christmas cards. As I would expect from such quality people, the comments have been insightful and have caused me to think quite a bit. While I'm still not sure that Christmas cards en masse are my favorite thing, I received a Christmas card today that actually brought me to tears, so I stand convicted by those of you who are making the claim that Christmas cards are a way to reach out and touch someone in a special way. Here's the inside of the card:
In case it's hard to read, the note on the left hand side says, "Alan, I opened this card and knew that it was made for you. Keep working and praying for it. Peace, Mr. Peeler."

James Peeler is one of my go-to guys in the youth advisor team at Harpeth. The guy is always willing to lend a helping hand. He went on both of our summer mission trips last summer and was always a voice of support and comfort at times when I most needed that voice. During my time at Harpeth, I've walked alongside James in the death of his Mother and his Father. As some of you know, I sign my e-mails with Peace. I often challenge the youth (and adults for that matter) to think about the peace/shalom that God offers and how we might live as peaceful people. Anyway, James has noticed that during our time together and thought of that as he was signing Christmas cards, and for that, I am extremely grateful.

So, Christmas cards aren't all bad. :)

Christmas cards

OK, I'd like to know how much folks spend on Christmas cards every year. Beginning about two weeks before Christmas, I receive three or four cards a day in the mail. I should keep track of the postage folks have collectively spent sending me Christmas cards and pictures of the family at the beach. Now, I'm not one to get into the whole, "Jesus wouldn't do that" stuff, but I'm beginning to wonder about the stewardship of Christmas cards. Here are some reasons I think folks might want to re-consider the whole Christmas card thing:

• The trees we kill with all those envelopes.
• The envelopes and cards that people don't recycle.
  
• The extra work for postal workers who are already over burdened during Christmas was extra packages and whatnot.
• Does everybody in your address book really want to see you and the family at the beach?
• The chemicals that go into developing the pictures that go with the card.
  
• The time you spend addressing cards.
• The money you spend...it could go for something else like food banks, heifer project, or Salvation Army

In line with that last thought, I wonder what would happen if everybody in a given congregation would take the money they usually spend on sending Christmas cards, pool it together, choose a charity or worthy organization, and send them the money. What if everybody donated the x number of hours they usually spend addressing Christmas cards and helped to feed the homeless, or read to children, or a variety of other service projects?

On a lighter note, I hope my Mom doesn't read this, because she works for Hallmark. :)

Merry Christmas everyone!

irony...or something

irony=being given a multi-tool pocket knife for Christmas and then realizing you could really use a multi-tool pocket knife to open the ridiculous package the multi-tool pocket knife is in. Seriously.

It's a silly thing

Weather really is a silly thing. Here I sit on the porch of Bongo Java next to the campus of Belmont at 8:30 pm on December 11th and I'm wearing short sleeves because it's something like 65 degrees outside. Meanwhile, folks back in Joplin, MO are still without power because of snow and ice storms over the weekend and continuing sub-freezing temperatures. Wild stuff.

So, yesterday I was driving to work and I was eating an apple and I had a thought (yes, only one). I wonder if talking on my cell phone while driving is really any more dangerous than eating an apple while driving. I mean, while I'm on the phone, the phone stays stationary, and I'm able to watch the road. But, when I'm eating an apple, I'm always looking down to figure out where to bite next. I just kind of wonder.

vs

Does faith matter in politics?

As I was eating breakfast this morning, I read the half page "Controversy of the Week" section in The Week (seriously, everybody should subscribe to this magazine...it rocks) that asked the question "Mitt Romney: Does it matter that he's Mormon?" It raised the question of whether Mormonism is a cult and mentioned some of their more outlandish beliefs, such as the ability of human beings to evolve into gods. Now, I'm pretty skeptical of the Mormon faith and do not grant the Book of Mormon the same authority as the Bible, but let's not act like Mormons have the market cornered on wild stories and strange customs. The Bible is full of "ridiculous" stories and claims. I mean, we Christians go to church every Sunday and worship a guy we claim rose from the dead. We put water on people and say that it represents something powerful. We break bread and drink juice or wine and call it the body and blood of Christ...but not really (but really if you're Catholic). The claims of any faith are not logical. Our religion doesn't make "more sense" than that of the Mormons. Faith isn't often about what "makes sense."

Finally, has the gospel been tamed so completely that we really think that devotion to our country is more important than devotion to the gospel and the kingdom of God? I say it often, and I'll say it again: Our ultimate allegiance is to God's kingdom, not the kingdom of the United States of whatever. Don't hear me say that I think religious law should be the law of our land. I don't think that. I do think, though, that when people of faith are faced with discrepancies between God's law and the law of the land, serious consideration should be taken as to what law one is going to follow. What if all the Jews and Christians in the U.S. observed jubilee? That would be amazing!

Simply put, I really don't give a lick what faith someone claims to have as they run for public office. I want to know how he or she is going to live out that faith in the way he/she governs. I want to knowhow someone plans to provide liberty and justice for all people (whether it's "under God" or not). I want to know how someone plans to care for the least of these.

Somebody has to be on the take

Seriously? The Cotton Bowl? Kansas goes to the Orange Bowl? Tell me how Kansas gets a better bowl game than Missouri when MISSOURI KICKED THEIR JAYHAWK TAILFEATHERS ALL OVER THE PLACE!!! I seriously don't understand. We got hosed. Somebody must be on the take. Seriously.

My day yesterday

Yesterday started off a decent day. Sure, I had to get up before the sun to be at the airport for a 7:00 am flight, but I had a delightful ride with my girlfriend and had time to grab a mocha and a muffin from the coffee beanery. I greeted a fellow Mizzou fan as we boarded the flight and I settled in with my ipod, Scene newspaper, and novel for the two hour flight to Houston on my way to Tulsa and eventually on to Joplin, MO where I'm officiating a wedding this evening. Oh, but not so fast, Renderings fans. After taxiing onto the tarmac, our pilot received word that there was low visibility in Houston, so we would be delayed by 30 minutes. Well, 30 minutes turned into an hour, and then, Mr. Pilot came back on to say that we would be returning to the gate, because it would be another hour before we could take off, again, because of bad weather in Houston. I'm realizing at this point that my connecting flight is scheduled to depart approximately 20 minutes before we're not schedule to leave Nashville. I stand in line with all the other "my connecting flight will be long gone when we get to Houston" folks. I'm assured that I will be on the next connecting flight.

Fast forward to 10:30, when our flight finally departs Nashville. I'm doing the math again and realizing that my new connection is supposed to be at 12:40 and this is a two hour flight. Yes, you guessed it, by the time we landed and I waited for my updated boarding pass, and made my way to Gate B84, the 12:40 flight was already boarded and taxiing away. Ah, but there's a 1:00 you can catch. It's in an adjacent terminal, but if you hurry, you should make it. I flash my half marathon running skills and approach the gate by 12:50 only to see on agent and a very dead looking gate area. "Oh," Ms. Escobar tells me, "that flight was moved to gate B84." "I was just there," I say. "They sent me here. The screen here says there's a flight at 1:00 at this gate." "The screen in wrong," Ms. Escobar says, "and that flight is now closed. We'll put you on the 2:30 to Tulsa." "Great" I say.

So, now I'm definitely going to miss the wedding rehearsal of the wedding I'm officiating. Great. I resign myself to the fact that I'm simply a victim of all this airline travel hullabaloo I've been hearing about. Frustrating, but what can you do.

Baggage issus: I arrive safely in Tulsa and make my way to the baggage claim and wait eagerly for my grey/blue suitcase to come sliding up the conveyer belt. Alas, the big metal beast stops, the screen reads "Last bag placed on belt" and my bag is nowhere to be seen. Perfect. I go stand in line at the Continental service desk (Continental is now on my "no fly" list by the way...more on that later). There's a guy in front of me who's in the same position I am. We've been standing in lines together all day, beginning in Nashville. "Well," the Continental agent says, "it looks like your bags came in on the 1:00 flight. They ended up being delayed and didn't leave Houston until 3:30, but it just arrived, so your bags should be upstairs now." Sure enough, there they were. Now, this turn of events makes me wonder how it is that I was turned away from the 1:00 flight at 12:50 if it didn't leave until 3:30, but I like to take some pleasure in thinking that I may have avoided another hour and a half on a tarmac by taking the 2:30.

Finally, I picked up my rental car, made the two hour drive to Joplin and arrived in time for a lovely rehearsal dinner. Yes 13 hours after I left my house yesterday, I finally arrived at a destination to which I could have driven in approximately 9 hours.

OK, so here's my Continental is on my no fly list. I get that there are delays and that you can't fly into someplace with zero visibility. Totally get that. But, I approached the counter to ask about my connecting flight, the agent didn't give me the new flight number or gate number. She simply said I'd be on the next flight out. Then, when we all got off our plane, you know, three hours late, there were absolutely no agents standing by to help us find our way. Then, when I finally wait in an eternal line and get to the front and hand my three hour expired boarding pass to the agent, do not condescendingly tell me that I missed the flight. Yeah! No shit I missed the flight. Your airline got me here three hours late! Fix it! Call down to the gate and ask them to hold the flight. And then, don't send me to three different places for a flight that was in the original place I looked. Communication people! I know you have stuff on your computer. Anyway, the delays can't be avoided. I get that. But when you have planes full of people in tough spots, don't treat us like the bad guys. Call in extra help. The only person who gets any props is Ms. Escobar and her supervisor who was standing there. They actually said, "We're really sorry for the inconvenience." A simply apology goes a long way in my book.

OK, enough ranting an raving. All is well here in Joplin. Looking forward to the wedding.

Happy Advent!

Mizzou #1

That's right, sports fans! The Mizzou Tigers are #1 in the BCS! Unbelievable! I never thought I'd see the day when Mizzou would be the top football team in the country. I'm totally psyched about a potential trip to the national championship game. How awesome would that be. Here are some pictures of our star players.

Chase Daniels

Martin Rucker

Save you it will not

So, I was in the bathroom last week and came across this ad:

Now, besides the fact that one can't even use the bathroom anymore without being bombarded with advertisements that try to convince you to buy stuff, I found this ad to be particularly ridiculous. I'd just like to go on record as saying MONEY WILL NOT SAVE YOU!!! What a farce. What idolatry. Maybe I should sneak in there and replace it with an add that says:

Save your money, you Fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you.. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be? (Luke 12:20).

Do I put money into an IRA every month? Yes
Do I spend money each month on a car payment and a house payment? Yes
Do I accumulate stuff on a regular basis? Yes
Do I trust in all of these things to bring me "security" and salvation? Absolutely not

Money: Save you it will not.

Irresistable Revolution

I'm currently reading The Irresistable Revolution: Living as an Ordinary Radical by Shane Claiborne. It's definitely rocking my world and making me ask a lot of questions I don't always encounter here in Williamson County. Here's a paragraph I came across this morning that made me nod vigorously and say YES. This is found in the midst of a discussion about Jesus' conversation with the rich young ruler in Matthew 19:16-30, Mark 10:17-30, and Luke 18:18-30 where Jesus basically tells the rich man that he must sell all he has and give the proceeds to the poor in order to "inherit the kingdom." Claiborne is skeptical of the way many preachers clean this text up or contextualize it to simply mean "Don't worship money," even thought that's not what Jesus said. In response to our desire to stay rich and not make anyone uncomfortable with whatever level of wealth they've attained, Claiborne says this:

In our culture of "seeker sensitivity" and radical inclusivity, the great temptation is to compromise the cost of discipleship in order to draw a larger crowd. With the most sincere hearts, we do not want to see anyone walk away from Jesus because of the discomfort of his cross, so we clip the claws on the Lion a little, we clean up a bit the bloody Passion we are called to follow. I think this is why the disciples react as they do. They protest in awe, "Who then can be saved?" ("Why must you make it so hard? We need some rich folks here, Jesus, we're trying to build a movement.") And yet Jesus lets him walk away.

I have often wondered if a radical obedience to the gospel of Jesus Christ is really all that "seeker sensitive." It's awesome to hear someone else articulate that wondering.

Golf carts

So, we pastor types usually get one day during the week off because Sunday is a working day for us. For the past year or so, I've been taking Thursdays off. I find that I'm better about actually taking the day off than I did when my day off was Friday. Anyway, yesterday, on my day off, I decided to go play golf. My golf game has really dropped off in the past few years and I'm determined to get back to at least bogey golf by the end of the year. Now, I'm a bit of a golf purist in that I walk and carry my clubs whenever possible. I really don't like using a golf cart. It throws off my rhythm somehow. I really love that time of walking in between shots. If I've hit a marvelous shot and hit the green or placed the ball in the middle of the fairway, I have time to admire my skill. More often, though, my ball is in the rough, or the sand trap by the green, or maybe even about to roll into a pond. In this situations, as I walk in between shots, I have time to shake it off, clear my mind, and decide how best to recover. I just really love walking and carrying my clubs. Well, yesterday, I got behind a group of three players (a threesome in golf parlance) who were sharing two carts. No matter what anyone tells me, I'm convinced that two people walking will play faster than two people sharing a cart. I stood and watched as these guys would drive to one side of the fairway for Duffer One to hit his shot and then drive to the other side of the fairway for Duffer Two to hit his shot. Then, sin of sins, they would drive up the middle of the fairway in their cart. Hello!! We have all of these dumb cart paths all over the place for my golf ball to ricochet off of. Why don't you use them? By the end of the round, I had to force myself not to watch the ill used carts ahead of me. Yeah, I really dislike golf carts. I'm now reminded of a time when I was playing a round of golf with my friend Jeff. We were walking and carrying our clubs and were playing fairly well. We were ahead of pace and actually had actually had to wait on the group ahead of us a couple of times. On the 8th hole, as I was preparing to chip on to the green, this bozo in the twosome behind us (both with their own cart), comes driving up to tell us to hurry up. I almost turned around the hit the ball right at his face. I should have told him to drive on ahead and tell them to hurry up, or better yet, I should have told him to get his lazy butt out of his cart and walk and carry his clubs and see if he could finish 18 holes without having a heart attack. But, instead, I simply pointed to the group ahead of us on the 9th hole who were just hitting their second shot and said, "Sure thing, buddy." There's a whole other blog post here about taking time to actually enjoy what you're doing instead of always being in a rush to finish, but I've rambled on long enough. Thank God for a beautiful day and being healthy enough to get out there and enjoy creation by chasing a little white ball.

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.