. notes, overtones & resolutions .

Seeking a Biblical and Efficient Way of Fighting Poverty

2012-02-13T23:14:00.003-05:00

It seems there's a lot of burdening and delaying debates within the American churches right now about why/how to combat poverty. Sometimes the call is a just brushed off as a political agenda or a guilt-trip. Others wonder what the government's role should be (if any), while others argue if the amount of doctrinal/evangelical content in the charity. Still others check motives for potential egoism. Some people are just too intimidated by the daunting call.

I give props to the latest issue of Christianity Today, particularly how, in the cover story, these questions are well-answered and we can be rightfully inspired.

"The church can never match the sweep of national and global initiatives. But if the poor will be with us always, until the Second Coming, it is also true that bureaucratic and impersonal government will be as well. When it comes to caring for people as individuals in their uniqueness, the government is the clumsiest tool imaginable.

"Ah, but people—those precious individuals embedded in a unique family and community—they are right in the church's sweet spot. No government can touch what the church can do here.

"So while the government makes needed sweeping changes, the church is there to pick up the inevitable pieces of people trampled by government regulations, of people who get left behind, of people whom the government treats as mindless sheep, but whom the church knows have a Shepherd."

You can read the rest of the story here.

It Sometimes Helps to Give Our Daughter Her Veggies

2012-02-10T16:03:00.000-05:00

Age 3 can be very pivotal. At least it was for me. It was when I was 3 years old when I first asked my mother from the front yard, with a tone of intense curiosity, "Is God real? And He can see me right now?" My older daughter is 3 right now, so I'm little apprehensive as I prepare myself to answer the craziest (yet sometimes significant) questions and continue to mold myself as a parent, since her permanent memorability is developing. We pray with them, and prayerfully teach them, discipline them and inspire them.

Still, I sometimes see a little hope. We watched VeggieTales: Rack, Shack & Benny recently (a children-friendly version of the persecution of the Biblical characters Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego in the 3rd chapter of Daniel). We came to the apex of the story (around 1:45 in this video), when the protagonists get dropped into the furnace and they're saved from the flames. As the fire went out and was replaced by the radiant white glow of God's glory, intimidating "Mr. Nezzer," my older daughter gasped, smiled and said, "God is saving them."

So, in a world where people (rightfully) fear the growing media and other cultural trends having a negative impact on the youngest of children, some Truth is being learned by our older daughter.

A Little Known and Underrated Resource for Worship Music

2012-02-09T16:19:00.000-05:00

When I was in intern at a jingle shop in Nashville, I attended a Reformed University Fellowship group (RUF for short) at a nearby Presbyterian church. It was led by the RUF leader of Nashville's Belmont University, Kevin Twit. He's a theologian and a Top 40 guitarist to boot, and he introduced me to Indelible Grace Music.
Indelible Grace Music is a ministerial music movement that takes the text of classic hymns and adds a beautiful acoustic accompaniment (and often a new melody). It is very popular, for example, among Christian college students who yearn for the dense theological poetry of hymns with a more musically "organic" feel. Indelible Grace has released seven CD's (and they're on iTunes) and has free audio samples and sheet music on their website. Being based in Nashville, they've also featured some known names in Christian music (e.g. Jars of Clay's Dan Haseltine, Derek Webb).
I've involved Indelible Grace's songs as offertories on occasion, and it's always been a worshipfully meditative time for many. More info can be found here.

P.S. Kevin Twit also was the one who introduced me to Settlers of Catan . . .

Random Thought: Christians are to Be Inspirationally Boring

2012-02-08T17:03:00.000-05:00

Occasionally, I wonder if I should apply for the weight-loss reality gameshow, The Biggest Loser. I could stand to lose a few pounds, and if I was willing to share my calorie-burning journey on national television, it might be a great opportunity to lose some weight and maybe make some money.

However, I somewhat doubt I’d get accepted, namely because I wouldn’t provide the drama they’re looking for. I’ve been through intense body composition programs before, so I know how to grit my teeth and get through tough workouts. If the show’s producers are hoping the boot-camp-style program will provoke and film an emotional breakdown or any emotional vulnerability from me to help garner ratings, they’ll be sorely disappointed. I’ll fail workouts, but I won’t cry.

It seems that readers and viewers somewhat enjoy scandalous failure, drama and depravity. You don’t often see breaking headlines about how happy celebrity marriages are, or even highlighting even the littlest good news (especially in the tabloids). This is why and how mature Christians can be inspirationally boring.

In a chaotic world of cynicism, drama and failure, Christians‘ lives should be exuding lives of righteousness, contentment, hope and joy. During difficult times, Christians show diligence, perseverance and selflessness rather than complaints and types of abandonment. Christians should be willing to take such Christ-like values of love and selflessness to the martyrdom of their reputation, if necessary (better that than a publicized scandalous fall from grace), being tried and tested and being known as the “real deal.”

May we all continually strive to be boring together.

Please Pray for Romania

2012-02-06T22:47:00.000-05:00

I want to encourage prayer for the country of Romania right now as it seems they are going through some of the worst political turmoil since the revolution against communism in 1989. The prime minister and his cabinet have stepped down to help "defuse the tension."
Three years ago, I had the opportunity to do mission and charity work in Romania, serving in children's camps, performing in orchestras and preaching the Gospel. I spent a few nights in Bucharest, including the first church built since communism's fall. I still remember the look and size of the main capitol building.
More details here.

Congrats to the Giants.

2012-02-05T22:45:00.000-05:00

I wanted to post this before, but it seems more appropriate now.

Today's Silly Friday: Vegetables Vilify Vicious Vigilantes?

2012-02-03T15:45:00.001-05:00

Below is the trailer to the upcoming VeggieTales DVD, Robin Good and His Not-So-Merry Men. Could be interesting if they take a small (but rightful) stand against vigilante-ism, seemingly rebuking a popular hero. I know I'm interested in seeing the DVD.

Probably the Best Bumper Sticker in All of History

2012-02-02T18:32:00.002-05:00

. . . but it could only be rightfully be purchased and toted by one couple in all history.

Super Bowl: Making the Most of the Most Football-less Game

2012-02-01T15:58:00.001-05:00

I . . . don’t completely enjoy the Super Bowl. And this is coming from a guy who reads sports blogs everyday, organizes NFL draft parties, and even wrote of my NFL addiction a year ago. Granted, part of it is that I cheer for an NFL team that’s lost four Super Bowls and hasn’t been to one in decades.
I love watching football. Unlike other professional sports, it has just the right level of captivating intensity. The playoff rounds are in singular games (not series) that occur on weekends, so there’s a low commitment level. I think those reasons alone are why the NFL (at least in the regular season) is the most profitable professional sport.
And then there’s the Super Bowl. To me, the Super Bowl is the grand finale of the dramatic storyline of the season. But it more seems, at this point, like a circus of glitz and pop culture kitsch. If the Super Bowl was a NASCAR automobile, the glare of the plastered ads would blind people from seeing the car doing any racing.
Just last night, as my wife and I were enjoying Hulu.com and one of the ads was its voting event on the best upcoming Super Bowl ad, with the opening tagline (slightly paraphrased): “You won’t remember the game, but you will remember [the ads].” The ads have become more sophomoric and raunchy. I remember many more Facebook posts on Christina Aguilera’s botch of the national anthem or the Black Eyed Peas‘ disappointing half-time show than anything football-related. (Also, my musical side has never enjoyed the halftime show, save for U2’s tribute to 9-11 victims and Big Bad Voodoo Daddy’s brief swing revival). Yet, all these caricatures (and even social/political platforms) jump on the bandwagon to attract more viewership of a 60-minute game further expanded beyond three hours.
I really just want to watch the game.
Also, the amount of money that gets poured into this Bowl is extreme. There is no contest between what people spend (in money and viewership) on the Super Bowl and what people spend on the NBA Finals, World Series and Stanley Cup combined. Its nearest competitor is NCAA Football, and at least a portion of the profits go to the school’s underfunded programs. There’s been economic analyses after this past Super Bowl that don’t paint the NFL quite as charitable.
Nonetheless, it is the clash between two very talented football teams, and I won’t want to miss it. I will, however, want to miss everything else. And I’ll strive to have a streak of biblical stewardship in my celebration of the big game.

Scott Hamilton in "I Am Second"

2012-01-30T15:21:00.003-05:00

"The only true disability in life is a bad attitude."

Scott Hamilton is a gold medal winner, a cancer survivor and a tumor survivor. He talks about his journey on iamsecond.com.

Check out the video.

In Memphis, a Different Meaning to Teaching Ministry

2012-01-27T16:25:00.003-05:00

In light of all the heated chatter that happens over education, I thought this was an encouraging read.

"In the basement of a church in the heart of Memphis, Tennessee, a group of Christians believes public education in American cities does not have to continue as is. They are not activists or government officials. Nor are they protestors or reformers in the traditional sense of the word. They are teachers and those training them."

Read the whole article.

The Value of Truth in Today’s Recession

2012-01-26T17:48:00.000-05:00

As the Oscars approached last year, my wife and I finally rented and watched The Social Network. I wasn’t too interested, but I mainly felt I had to see it because a few commentators were predicting that Jesse Eisenberg’s portrayal of Facebook co-founder Mark Zuckerberg was more Oscar-worthy than Colin Firth’s portrayal of King George VI in The King’s Speech (we were pulling for the latter).

The Social Network purports to tell the story of Facebook. Almost no names or places are changed, and it concludes with little epilogue subtitles just before the credits roll. The movie showed a lot of unpleasant discord in the social circles surrounding Facebook’s birth, with Zuckerberg the main victor emerging from the costly dog-eat-dog war with figurative blood on his hands. I understand the danger that surrounds a proverbial gold mine (I remember Steinbeck’s The Pearl), but I left that movie thinking: Should I, even with having a free Facebook account, support a corporation with so much moral/ethical questionability in its roots? And with a co-founder so arrogant and uncouth?

As it turns out, the movie’s script is far from historic. Virtually every real figure in the story stated that the emotional drama surrounding Facebook’s origins is very overplayed. I’ll let the historians take it from here, but what I found the most interesting (both as a pastor and an artsy person) was screenwriter Aaron Sorkin’s response to all the chatter.

"I don’t want my fidelity to be to the truth; I want it to be to storytelling. What is the big deal about accuracy purely for accuracy’s sake, and can we not have the true be the enemy of the good?"

Really? I don’t know too many people that weren’t remotely disappointed to find out the vast amount in historical inaccuracies in inspirational movies like Braveheart. In a world of agenda and old wives’ tales, I think people want to know what’s real, even if it’s not as eye-catching or profitable.

I don’t know how much Sorkin represents modern culture, but I hope it’s not too much, because the box office holds much more sway over what is seen as real or true than most scholars and actual truth-bearers.

All Dogs Go to Worship?

2012-01-25T11:52:00.000-05:00

I read about this in a local news pamphlet in a coffeeshop yesterday (ironically after I took my daughters to Petsmart). Apparently, a Presbyterian church in Los Angeles now holds services that are, simply put, "dog-friendly." And they're not alone.

I'm no veteran pet-owner, but I'm all about creative communication and community outreach. However, the ramifications here, in theology/culture, are a bit eerie, to say the least. Perhaps we should consider another option while contemplating how to reach out to the dog lovers of the world.

Read Albert Mohler's take.

Teaching Your Daughter About Football

2012-01-23T08:30:00.000-05:00

During the AFC Championship game yesterday, I had somewhat of a chance to teach my 3-year-old daughter about football.
I explained that this was a game between a bunch of people named "Mr. Raven" and another bunch of people named "Mr. Patriot." The people named "Mr. Raven" had a picture of a bird on their hat with a big yellow "B." I told her that a patriot is a soldier and that all the people named "Mr. Patriot" were wearing blue and silver.
Then the object of the game. When it was the Patriots' ball, I said to my little girl that they wanted to "move the ball all the way over there" (pointing to the in-zone off-screen), but Mr. Raven, however, wanted to stop them and take the ball away.
"I can get Mr. Raven another ball after the game," my daughter said in response, offering a peaceful compromise.
How could I argue with that?

Level of “Real-ness” in Struggles and Joy

2012-01-19T18:56:00.000-05:00

We had just two days of intense workout for Principles of Body Composition, a popular boot camp of a class at my undergraduate. For many of us out-of-shape students (myself certainly included), it was a sweat-breaking, muscle-fatiguing, even nauseating experience. During class, our professor sat down and opened up the floor, anxious to hear, emotionally and physically, how people were feeling. I remember sitting sorely and categorizing the responses.

One fellow out-of-shape raised his hand and just said, “It hurts. It really hurts.” He went on to talk about how, due to fatigue and soreness, it was a painful ordeal over the past 48 hours to climb in/out of bed, etc., and the diet was strict. There was never a mention of hope or resolve.

One of the class’s few in-shape (and quite already-athletic) members raised his hand and smiled at the professor, saying, “It feels good to go in that gym and kick butt.”

But there was one reply that pointed me out. Smiling, he said, “This morning I saw James walk up the front stairs to Schell Hall. I was far away, but I could tell it was a torturous task. I was cheering him on, thinking to myself, ‘We’re all in this together. We can do this.’”

Now, if you were in my class, which reply would most inspire you to venture further into this challenging adventure of physical refining and lifestyle discipline?

This came to mind, because as the Church, in the post-secular world, orients more ministerial philosophy around sincere community and more personal discipleship/evangelism happens in cyberspace, a somewhat strange question comes up in the mind of pastors and bloggers: How “real” should I be?

How vulnerable should I be in my writing? How much should I let me people know about my doubts and struggles, if at all?

It’s a good question.

Sidenote: I do want to point out that it’s more of a modern question, meant more for bigger churches and the blogosphere, where such life privatization is actually available. In smaller churches and close communities like ones I’ve served in, each life (struggles, joys, everything) was naturally, not voluntarily, an open book. All things pent-up eventually, and sometimes, unfortunately, found their way to the surface. It was also through that tight and seeming secret-free community that many lives were refined.

The truth is, for good and bad reasons, being “real” gets an audience. I’ll give the bad news first.

Why “being real” is bad: A soliloquy without a glimmer of hope or joy in the hands of a loving Sovereign God isn’t inspiration. It’s commiseration, and it can easily turn into a contest of who’s gone through the most and/or who’s sinned the most, counteracting the very relational and selfless effort that discipleship is meant to be. The Christian is called to a lifelong process of conquering their own sin, temptation and doubt, yet I’ve seen “real” blogs and books that don’t put any light at the end of the tunnel, and whose doubts and struggles may make their leadership and example questionable.

Why “being real” is good: We serve a mission-field marred by the “prosperity gospel,” who’s seen the rise and scandalous fall of wealthy pastors with plastic smiles that drilled the idea of a direct correlation between faith and wealth. We just can’t tout the Christian lifestyle to involve material, relational or physical prosperity when it’s quite the opposite. This is why some Christians think that some pastors and bloggers that are only positive and happy in their communication are unhealthfully isolating themselves from real local problems or their own, when some people are desperately looking for an imitate-able example of how a Christian leader handles real problems.

So, I guess it’s a balance.

Looking back to my Principles of Body Composition class, it wasn’t the despairing and fatigued classmate who inspired me to finish the course. Nor was it the un-phased jock. It was the friend who acknowledged the struggles of the class, but emphasized perseverance and community toward the common goal.

Sounds really familiar.

Observing the Way of Dr. King

2012-01-16T15:40:00.002-05:00

I'm currently reading through John Piper's Bloodlines, where he takes a seeming drastic step from his usual hermeneutic and writing style and writes about the Gospel and modern racism. In the early chapters, he gives a very well-deserved nod to a eerie and almost prophetic quote from Martin Luther King, Jr.'s "Letter from Birmingham Jail" regarding the Church's obligation against systemic injustice . . . and how it fails. It's a good quote for reflection as we remember King today and our calling as advocates of the life-giving God.

"There was a time when the church was very powerful. It was during that period when the early Christians rejoiced when they were deemed worthy to suffer for what they believed in. In those days the church was not merely a thermometer that recorded the ideas and principles of popular opinion; it was a thermostat that transformed the mores of society. . . They were small in number but big in commitment. . . They brought to an end such ancient evils as infanticide and gladiatorial contest. Things are different now. The contemporary church is often a weak, ineffectual voice with an uncertain sound. It is so often the arch supporter of the status quo. Far from being disturbed by the presence of the church, the power structure of the average community is consoled by the church's silent and often vocal sanction of things as they are."

Tebow and the Theology of Football

2012-01-12T17:20:00.002-05:00

The 2004 season was one of the better years to be a Minnesota Vikings fan. At the time, I had a close friend on my dorm floor who was a quick-witted aspiring journalist and a Packers fan. Of course, we would trash-talk and duke it out. Also, being students at Christian college, we did, in a humorous and non-serious manner, purport our respective football teams, for various reasons, as “God’s team,” and therefore all losses and disappointments had some type of biblically-analogous reason. For example, my friend often compared the Packers’ woes with the suffering of Job, arguing that championships tenfold will come to those who are patient and humble (this certainly seems more tenable today). I, on the other hand, compare the Vikings’ dramatic narrative of the past several seasons with the early monarchies of Israel, how they suffered due to top-down corruption but can rebuild under grace and new leadership.

This anecdote came to mind, because theology of football, if there is such a term, is becoming more of a popular topic. Tim Tebow is far from being the first self-dubbed follower of Christ to also gain positive attention as a football player for the NFL, but he’s seemingly the most outspoken (and therefore most covered) about his faith in a world arguably more cynical, divided and politically-charged. He doesn’t put up phenomenal numbers (what first-year starter does?) and he hasn’t yet won over John Elway, but he led the Broncos to win many more games and to their first playoff berth since 2005.

And he thanks God for it. Like grace before a meal, he sees victory as a blessing from God and an opportunity for further stewardship.

The problem is that both Christians and the un-like are interpreting a bad theology of football. One blogger commented, “Is God now a Broncos fan?” It seems to some (e.g. the Baltimore Ravens‘ Terrell Suggs) that God’s favor and power are upon the Broncos as it’s the only explanation/miracle why a team and QB with unimpressive numbers can make it to the playoffs. Others wonder what type of God Tebow worships, since He seems to be investing His omnipotence in empowering a struggling football team led by one of His followers, but not so much world hunger or systemic injustice. Many, also, are making a direct correlation between Broncos‘ success and Tebow’s “terms” with God, as if only God could let the Broncos lose if Tebow simply hadn’t prayed enough, etc.

Needless to say, we’ve gone unhealthfully far from the playful football theology of my college years. There’s two quick points I need to make, both as an NFL fanatic and a pastor.

God does not “take sides” in a football game. Neither should Christians. This doesn’t mean that we, as Christians, can’t cheer for our regional team in good fun, but it does mean that we can’t attach the image of God to a person or organization in a way where God’s very essence and divine will is readable and understood through football statistics. (No, I’m not a fan of the name “Jesus” being on Tebow jerseys). A Christian can’t deny that God has a hand in the world that is the NFL, but (unless perhaps someone shows me, in the Bible, where God made an Abrahamic covenant with the Broncos) we can’t assume a legalist spiritual correlation between Tebow’s spiritual life and the team’s success, especially when there are NFL players/coaches with more experience in the sport and in the faith whose teams have losing records. The will of God is a bit more complex and cryptic than this.

When Jesus said that the “rain falls on the just and the unjust,” He was encouraging Christians to be the first to, in a chaotic and hostile world, to love their enemies. Yet, Christian Tebow fans like to take sides. Some extreme fans, strangely, see Tebow’s success on the field as a validation of everything they have in common in with him, even the faith itself. That’s a lot riding on his young shoulders. What if he becomes a “draft bust”? What if he gets caught in a scandal?

We need a better vision for the “successful NFL Christian superstar.” To paraphrase Paul, Tebow’s struggles are not just against pads and secondaries. The off-field lifestyle of the NFL player, being the most lucrative professional sport, can (and often has) become one of greed, materialism, complacency, crime and all the decadence the salary can afford. This is where Christian leaders in the NFL (e.g. quarterbacks, coaches, team captains, etc.) can stand out in their team-building, didacticism, morale-boosting and charity.

It truly fascinates people how Christians can reject the NFL’s unbiblical cultural norms and still succeed in the league (e.g. Tony Dungy led the Indianapolis Colts to a Super Bowl victory without ever raising his voice), but also how they spend their time/money off the clock. Tony Dungy serves as a national mentor to prison inmates and also to men aspiring to be better fathers. Kurt Warner fundraises and donates to hospitals and works for Civitas International, helping the developmentally disabled. The list goes on.

If a Christian NFL player strives for true biblical living, all the while rejecting the unhealthful, egotistical and materialistic lifestyle stereotypes, no on-the-field disappointments can truly be a blemish on God’s name. If, however, a Christian NFL player is all mouth and no actions (on and off the field), distinguishing himself positively, then there’s even more bad football theology to deal with than the current.

Happy Birthday to Kaylee, Our Feisty, Self-Owned Pop Singer

2012-01-06T10:39:00.000-05:00

My younger daughter is two years old now.

When my wife first found out she was pregnant with her, she couldn’t (and didn’t want to) believe it. After all, her husband was trying to finish his last year of grad school and didn’t have any job prospects. Nonetheless, the OB/GYN office (who had delivered Abby just six months earlier) consulted her over the phone and told her that four positive pregnancy tests mean she should schedule her first appointment. Christina didn’t tell me about it until the evening after my graduation ceremony.

Kaylee was our pleasant surprise.

Props to my wife for carrying Kaylee in her body through several flights, two moves, and a business visit to Colorado, where we (over)worried that the altitudes low oxygen would stunt her growth. Beforehand, she had one cyst on her brain that stayed a tad too long. It caused a bit of a temporary scare and required Christina to sit through some genetic counseling, but Kaylee turned out fine.

Kaylee was born in the same hospital as her mother, in Delaware. Abby’s grandmother stayed with Abby in our house as we made a late night drive to the hospital during Philadelphia metro’s all-time worst winter. As with Abby, I texted the manager at my new Starbucks to request a few days off. The rest happened so fast. Kaylee was born into our close-knit church plant family, and Memaw and Geepaw were just ten minutes away, so we had plenty of loving visitors.

I always figured Kaylee as the physically stronger one, because she was born after I had mastered the art of swaddling blankets. She had to break herself out of some tight papooses. There’s one picture of when I swaddled her, sitting in an easy chair in our parsonage after a long day of coffee-making, and we both fell asleep. I guess we could say we were, as father and daughter, together dealing with the overwhelming parts of life.

Kaylee was only five months old when our family was called to Wisconsin. Now she’s a talkative explorer with her own distinct opinion (often distinct from her sister’s). She learns and remembers songs very well.

Kaylee, I love how your face lights up and you rest your head on my shoulder when I get you out of your crib. I love that you’re passionate and zealous (even though I need to redirect that every so often). I love your eagerness to learn and be yourself, and I hope you never lose your love for singing. I love your grace with your older sister. It’s my privilege to raise you, and you’ll never lose my love and support as a father.

Developing the Skin of a Rhinoceros

2012-01-05T15:37:00.000-05:00

I once remember sitting around a table with an experienced pastor who said, “One needs the skin of a rhinoceros.” Tough skin. Fairly impervious to hurtful words, etc. I’m still praying and trying to develop that within myself, and I feel many Christians here ought to follow suit if they want to be impacting their community for Christ. Doing such will be difficult if one struggles to maturely handle persecution.

We should never be surprised by persecution. Jesus himself warned us about it, and all the Church’s founders experienced it. But persecution isn’t just a test to see if a Christian will denounce his/her doctrine. It’s also a test to see if said Christian will stay true to the values found in Scripture, namely grace, humble servanthood and biblical love.

Yes, I know (and am heartbroken, too) about the mockery Tim Tebow receives, the sitcom GCB, and the various ventures to remove religious imagery from the public square. One can’t deny that, as a Times columnist once said, our country’s strive for equality has a “blind spot for evangelicals.” There’s inequality in America. Believe me, I get it. But I really doubt airing concerns on television will change that.

How we respond to persecution is key in our strive for contagious Christ-likeness. Old Testament law virtually forbade retaliation, and punishments were very mild compared to other Ancient Near Eastern cultures. While the Romans persecuted and inadvertently eroded Jewish traditions and pride, Jesus spoke with a strong theme of loving non-resistance to evil. One intrigued atheist wrote of the early Christians in Rome, “They are mocked and bless in return. They are treated outrageously and behave respectfully to others.” Despite the failures of the Church, Christians have a subtle history, based on the exhortation of our doctrine, of standing out in love and grace amid violent dog-eat-dog societies.

And we need to show that love and grace during our seemingly many opportunities in persecution.

Let’s bless in return. Let’s not complain when we sense condescension from the media (Tebow didn’t). Let’s refrain from any aggressive knee-jerk reactions that fight to put our loving Christ’s name back in department stores during Christmas season. Let’s avoid giving any type of heated and disrespectful rhetoric, even if it’s ironically meant to preserve the Church’s reputation as a mature and loving community. A gracious, slow-to-anger, rhinoceros-skinned response of servanthood will help us to rightfully stand out as a Christ-like community.

But we don’t do this. Church leaders spend more time on Christian and conservative talk shows talking about the persecution we suffer in this country, rather than talking about how we’re looking to better pray for our leaders and love our neighbors. When we seem unforgiving and embittered in our persecution, no matter how just and righteous the cause, we’re not portraying ourselves as Christ-like, or even biblically loving or gracious.

Usually, as it turns out, our soapbox plan backfires. We shoot ourselves in the foot. The book/movie The DaVinci Code, as historically unfounded as it was, would not have had as big an impact on perceptions of textual criticism as it did if we hadn’t constantly ranted about it in the press. We portrayed ourselves as paranoid with a weak faith. Rob Bell’s book Love Wins would not have impacted the doctrine of Hell so much if there weren’t so many unwarranted, public, condemning tirades (from within the Gospel-sharing community!) on cyberspace. The media feasted on this fiasco and said that two-thousand-year-old theological views were being shaken (when they weren’t), and we looked irritable and unaware of our own theology.

In contrast, imagine if we, as Christians, didn’t retaliate or rashly react. Imagine if a Christian selflessly spoke against the persecution and neglect of others (e.g. the poor, the sick, the widow, the oppressed). Imagine if a Christian responded kindly to persecution and continued submitting, respecting, and praying for the sometimes disagreeable government, all the while serving and advocating the less fortunate, truly striving to be, as Paul calls it, “blameless and pure children of God.”

Let’s strive to be “not of the world” in how we react when we’re persecuted, mocked, or seen as less than equal. Our faith, from which flows our biblical, loving and charitable lifestyle, is meant to survive persecution and temptation from its own maturity and empowerment from Scriptural Truth. It needs no favors from the government or its resident cultural perception. It also will call us to a life of humble servanthood and at least some suffering.

And it will require us to have the skin of a rhinoceros.

Actually, God was Always Good: a review of Is God a Moral Monster? by Paul Copan

2011-12-21T16:18:00.001-05:00

The Old Testament’s stories and laws have become a hay-day for all those cynical of God and His followers. In a society that strives for equality and peace, why would one consider the input of those who uphold a book that primarily tells stories of a God who seems to perpetrate, support, or at least allow barbarism, weird legalism, racism and genocide? Many would say such a God is a hypocrite, or he mellowed out between the Bible’s Testaments. From 20/20’s comparison of the Old Testament with Islamic terrorism, to the closing monologue of God on Trial, all the way to the arsenal of the New Atheist movement (including frequent quotes from the late Christopher Hitchens, who Copan mentioned we should pray for, due to Hitchens’s then-diagnosis of esophageal cancer), the pre-Christmas God is getting quite the bad rap.

And many Christians don’t know how to respond. Some Christians tend to ignore the Old Testament. Some act as if God did go through some type of change in personality or even the mode of salvation after Jesus’s birth. Some proudly confirm all the cynics’ allegations against God, painting Him as sadistic and power-happy and contradicting verses about His character in both Testaments. None of these approaches are biblical.

But if you’re someone that takes on a lot of doubt about the character of the God of the Old Testament, whether it’s persecution or self-imposed, this book is for you. Paul Copan, in his book Is God a Moral Monster?, is very thorough, historic, and biblical in his effort to rightly portray God as the Sustainer and impartial Valuer of human life, as well as the Bearer of wisdom for righteousness and cultural flourishing.

Copan, curiously, opened the book discussing the New Atheist movement, namely establishing the problem I mentioned in the first paragraph of this review. He explains his paradoxical friend/foe relationship to various of the four prominent New Atheists (he’s had and enjoyed Daniel Dennett’s company) and gives the reader a taste of their rhetoric. Copan rightly asserts that the issues of the Old Testament should not be “shoved under holy rugs” by uninformed Christians (20).

Copan does well to slowly walk us deeper and deeper into the issues at hand like stepping a hot tub. He starts with the accusation of divine arrogance, and then he eventually addresses the alleged ethnic cleansing in the end of Part 3, which takes the biggest portion of the book.

The answers to most of the hostile inquiries of the Old Testament God’s character involve exegesis and require a better understanding of Ancient Near East history and literary style. As it turns out, some of the prominent New Atheists‘ arguments have a bit of what C.S. Lewis would call “chronological snobbery” and they lack the aforementioned understanding. I can’t go into detail here, but once rightful context is established, the purpose of the “weird” laws of the Torah look similar to the New Testament’s principles of discipleship and selfless cultural flourishing. And amid the barbarism and chaos that was the other Ancient Near East, understanding its history and literature, the armies of Israel look the most just, humane and, in some cases, virtually pacifist.

When I read through Francis Chan’s Erasing Hell earlier this year, I positively reviewed it as a layman’s reference on the doctrine of damnation. Is God a Moral Monster? is also best used as a reference guide, but arguably removing “layman” from the description. This book took me a while. Copan is very meticulous and thorough (he probably referenced every Old Testament verse anybody ever had a problem with!) in the body of this book. He categorized them well, and some topics take up multiple chapters.

If there’s one thing that’s lacking in Is God a Moral Monster?, it’s Copan’s modern contextualization of divine national judgment (160-161). I wish he had further unpacked that a bit more, given the explicit expansion of the Gospel to the Gentiles, the diverse modern connotations of “nationality” and the increasing transience and individualism in Western society. Some more could have been shared, especially with Westboro Baptist on the prowl, proclaiming divine national judgment upon -well- almost every nation in the world.

Otherwise, I am planning on keeping Copan’s Is God a Moral Monster? on my shelf. It was a long but very encouraging read to understand the New Atheists’ misunderstandings of the biblical text and, more importantly, my God who was (and is) consistent and good.

Next: Lupton’s Toxic Charity or Piper’s Bloodlines

Gilly’s Choral Christmas Playlist, trk. 2: “. . . which was the son of . . .” - Arvo Pärt

2011-12-08T14:16:00.000-05:00

Believe it or not, we’re still in the Old Testament. Well, kind of. We’re in the New Testament’s account of Jesus’s genealogy, specifically, in the book of Luke. The genealogy, however, mostly consists of Old Testament characters.

I can’t remember where, exactly, I first found this choral work. Off the top of my head, I don’t know of any other genealogies put to music. The repetition of the text itself can provide many opportunities for minimalism, but that’s not the direction Pärt took. While a 20th century composer, he has an appreciation for some of the pre-Renaissance music that accompanied the ancient sacred liturgies he likes to write (e.g. the Magnificat).

I do appreciate the different chord textures and melodies Pärt gives to each member of the genealogy, giving honor to the genealogy and it’s ending member, Jesus Christ.

Enjoy!

Two Memories of Christmas Giving

2011-12-01T13:31:00.000-05:00

To Russia With Quacks

I was a 3rd grader in a Christian grammar school. Everyone in our classroom had a pen pal from a 3rd grade classroom in Russia, which was regularly visited by one of our students’ missionary parents. Our class was thrilled to have these distant friends. After a few months and a several letters, we were excited when we got to see a videotape tour of the class.

My Russian pen pal was named Maxim. In the video, his desk was right by the window, so I could only see his silhouette against the snow outside. He slowly stammered his English as he stated his name and mentioned that he liked Donald Duck. When it came time to mail them again, I remembered that I had a small plastic Donald Duck figure that I didn’t play with anymore, so I sent it along, only hoping that it would make him happy.

The next time my 3rd grade class heard from Russia, it was in the form of a big box of individual gifts to all of us from each of our respective pen pals. Apparently, they really liked the gifts we sent and wanted to give back. I received a small purple robotic figure and a knight on a horse, which I still have to this day.

But I remember what really stuck with me. As I panned across the room of my happy fellow 3rd graders, I saw their joy as, both simply and strangely put, creative and righteous. Our Christian grammar school had had costume parties with themes and Valentine’s Day parties where we gorge ourselves on candy and ice cream (also where giving cards to everyone was mandatory, lest someone feel left out), but this joy was different. It was the joy that came from an unexpected response to our act of charity. And it was a creative way to teach children the joys of giving while further introducing them to the world outside their own country.

Lesson Learned: It was a good example of the truth of 2 Cor. 9:6-11.

Stomping Goombas with Dad

One of the questions of empirical research that organizations like Advent Conspiracy ask, in order to encourage more biblical Christmas giving, is what your favorite Christmas gift was . . . ever. Usually one has trouble answering because fads quickly die. For those who do answer, “favorite” gifts are remembered usually because of a significant memory that was given with them, or because the material gift was, at face/monetary value, much more timeless (or at least enduring) than any short fad.

When I was asked that question during a Bible study, I thought about it for a short bit, and then said, “Super Mario Bros. 3.”

Of course, most gamers (especially the remnant of loyal Nintendo fans) will affirm Super Mario Bros. 3 for the Nintendo’s original 8-bit, two-button system from the 80’s as a significant and even foundational milestone in the development of action/adventure gaming, the “Mario” franchise and video games in general. Its themes and approach are regularly used even today. In its original cartridge form, it’s still sought out. Super Mario Bros. 3 is arguably a “timeless” gift, judging by the aforementioned criteria.

But, being in grade school, I didn’t understand all that. What I did understand, however, is that my adoptive father, who hadn’t even been married to my mom for even 18 months, was smiling and driving me to Toys ‘R Us to buy it. (As I recall, video games were a similar price back then, but the consoles were a lot cheaper).

So I had the gift of a loving relational investment from a member of my immediate family, and I had the coolest new video game. It was a good Christmas. If I only had the latter without the former, it wouldn’t be the same.

Lesson Learned: Give what lasts. It won’t be forgotten.

Gilly’s Choral Christmas Playlist, trk. 1: “A Spotless Rose” - Herbert Howells

2011-11-25T14:26:00.001-05:00

I’m a bit of an explorer when it comes to Christmas music. It feels like I’ve blogged about everything from Sarah McLachlan and Stephen Colbert to David Crowder*Band and Yo-Yo Ma’s duet with Allison Krauss. This year, I’ve decided to give a bit more of a nod to my classical side and attempt to make my conservatory alma mater proud. So . . . choir nerds take heed! This is for you.

During my years in the Chicago area, my wife and I decided to see St. Olaf’s traveling choir (a very excellent program) as they stopped for a concert at Fourth Presbyterian in Water Tower Place. The sanctuary in the middle of that flourishing tourist haven was visually stunning, and had quite the impressive acoustics. This concert is actually where I first heard the first two “tracks,” of this playlist, the first of which is “A Spotless Rose” by Herbert Howells.

A spotless rose is blowing,

Sprung from a tender root,

Of ancient seers foreshowing,

Of Jesse promised fruit;

Its fairest bud unfolds to light

Amid the cold, cold winder,

And in the dark midnight.

The rose which I am singing,

Whereof Isaiah said,

Is from its sweet root springing

In Mary purest maid;

For through our God’s great love and might,

The Blessed Babe she bare us

In a cold, cold winter’s night.

The text (Winkworth’s English version of the original German) is arguably based on a combination of Isaiah 11 and 35, where the prophet, using agricultural metaphor, foretells a time of redemption from famine and injustice, and this time of peace and flourishing would come from a descendant of Jesse: Jesus Christ.

Herbert Howells was a likable English composer among myself and my conservatory colleagues for his borderline atonality. He wrote much in the arena of church music, including a few Magnificats and the longest Stabat Mater.

Enjoy!

Brainstorming on How to Really Keep Christ in Christmas

2011-11-17T16:12:00.001-05:00

It seems to happen every year. Christmas season would not be complete without an issue/dilemma (or a few) of political correctness. This year it’s the naming of a tree in Wisconsin’s Capitol rotunda a “Christmas tree.” Religion is an undeniable part of history and culture. It’s just interesting that anyone (mostly because they lack a little historical and etymological knowledge) could think that it’s even possible to remove all traces of religion from the public square. I could go on and on about that.

Meanwhile, some have taken up political arms to “keep Christ in Christmas.” This is a good goal for the heart of every Christian: to strive for Christ-likeness in celebrating His birth. However, this cliché mainly seeks to keep Christ’s name (but not necessarily, inadvertently, His honor) in the holiday’s over-commercialization and appearance in the public square.

If we “fight” to keep Christ’s name and face upfront in the holiday season, yet still celebrate it as do the non-Christians, Christ’s name will be meaningless to them. To keep Christ in Christmas is to honor Him, and emulate the sacrifice, love and charity inherent in His incarnation and earthly life.

Christmas, in our country, however, has become diluted and drowned in countless traditions. The top lists of Christmas songs have no theological content. Kids behave themselves to get gifts from a creepy, legalistic old toy-distributor who employs elves and flying mammals (kinda sad since he’s based on the legend of a very charitable Christian saint). And it’s become a hay-day for smart retailers who stir up materialism, gluttony and greed. America spends about $450 billion on Christmas every year. In this economy, I’m sure a few could think of a more beneficial or God-glorifying way to use that money. Nonetheless, Black Friday shoppers have literally killed for great deals. Should any Christian want to attach Christ’s name to all that? We should really know what we’re “fighting” for.

Each Christmas, I try to discipline my mind to downplay the distractions of eggnog and ornaments and I try to remember the original Christmas. I think of the faith of a young married couple, originally pregnant out of wedlock, shamed and rejected by their community, who sacrificed time, energy and reputation to bear the child they (rightfully) believed was the Messiah. I think of how the God of infinite glory was born in a barn and His first “visitors in the hospital” were laughable lowly shepherds. I think about the patience of the faithful followers of God whose families waited through centuries of oppression for a savior.

But, most of all, I think about Jesus, who didn’t cling to His equality with God, veiled His God-ly attributes and came from the glory of Heaven to the muck of the earth, in human flesh, and lived an impoverished life of love, sacrifice, giving and Truth to His foolish and hurting children. It’s the most loving, sacrificial, relational and communicative thing that’s ever been done.

How do we celebrate the arrival of such a sacrificing and all-loving Savior? I’m not totally sure, but the hoarding of opulent food and presents doesn’t seem quite so appropriate anymore. Recently, there debuted a sermon series known as Advent Conspiracy, operating under the tagline that "Christmas can (still) change the world." They have plenty of ideas that arguably make the celebration of Christ’s birth more Christ-like, such as:

Spending less on gifts (think of it as a “possessions version” of fasting) to better focus one’s mind on God
Giving gifts to the poor, either directly or through supporting charities, sponsoring children, etc. Some have made donations in another’s name as their Christmas gift to that person to encourage charity.
Giving the gifts in other love languages. Material possessions aside, there are a lot of people (maybe even in your family and friends) that could use the intangible but eternal gift of a loving relational initiative, whether it’s words of affirmation, quality time, or even forgiveness. Many possibilities on that one.
General self-downplay of distractions from worship, which include some Christmas traditions, event and other related logistics, and the shallow over-commercialization that permeates the culture.

Yes, Christmas is a “time of giving.” But, using Christ as the model, it’s a time of sacrificial giving to those in need, not so much the time for the newest iPod. If we think of Christ’s incarnation as a template “gift,” we need to remember that His life and death were a sacrifice for the health (physical, relational and spiritual) of others, including those who didn’t love Him back.

Like I said, I‘m still brainstorming and trying to apply things myself, but I’ve thus far concluded that we need to, simply put, be more Christ-like (and less like a mere Christian version of the complacent American consumer) in order to truly keep Christ in Christmas.

*More information about Advent Conspiracy can be found at www.adventconspiracy.org.

Happy Birthday to Abby, Our Creative Trooper Princess

2011-11-14T12:26:00.000-05:00

My older daughter is three now.

Normally on birthdays celebrated over social media, people post baby/toddler pictures to show how much someone has grown, or “how far he/she has come.” I actually can’t help it but think about how far we can trace Abby back in our crazy and chaotic married/family life.

When I first found out my wife was pregnant with Abby, I was a seminary student scrambling behind a sound board at a church plant. When we went to Lake Geneva for our 1-year anniversary, Abby was a baby bump. Christina held her first baby shower while I was doing missions work in Romania.

It was a foggy damp night as we drove 20 miles through empty Chicago roads to the big hospital in Evanston, IL (home to the Big Ten’s Wildcats) for Abby to be delivered. She was the 2-week-old star of the Thanksgiving reunion as our parents and some grandparents from both sides of the family crammed into our quaint 2br apartment in a lower-income part of the northwest ‘burbs.

When I graduated from seminary, Abby was there. When we moved to Memaw’s house for lack of employment, Abby was there, sleeping in a playpen. And now she’s been courageously participating in the community of our new church family. She likes to dance and sing on the stages at church and wants to go to Awana and ballet class.

She was along for the ride of the adventurous and sometimes troubling transitions of our family’s life.

A little known story about Abby: Just a few months into Christina’s pregnancy, there came a day that her stomach was so sensitive that she couldn’t even keep water down. We took her to the emergency room late one night to get rehydrated with an IV. I sat and watched my wife sleep there in the half-room, worried about both her and my child in utero. We didn’t know what to expect when Christina was stabilized and a doctor came in to do a sonogram.

But what we saw was our little baby, bouncing around the womb and clapping her hands. “Oh, you’ve got a feisty one there,” the doctor smiled and said. Our Abby’s a trooper.

Abby, you are, stubbornly and willfully, our creative little drama-princess. I hope you never lose your imagination or your bleeding heart. I like it when you cuddle up to one of your parents or give your little sister a hug or some help. I like it when you sing and dance, or try different color dresses on your princess dolls. I like it when you take conversational initiative with guests and visiting family, sometimes even more hospitably than me. It’s my privilege to raise you, and you’ll never lose my love and support as a father.

Word Study: “Relevant,” and How We Need to Let It Be

2011-11-11T13:49:00.000-05:00

As a disclaimer to my fellow closet-seminary-nerds out there, this isn’t the type of word study from a Hebrew, Greek or Aramaic lexicon of the Scriptures that delves into exegetical and etymological studies. This is, rather, a deeper (and somewhat deconstructive) look into various words of modern Christian discourse. In other words, I’m re-evaluating the language of “Christian-ese.”

Today’s word: “Relevant”

It started off as a key element in church advertising. A cutting edge church would brag about its “relevant” messages. Caricatured examples involve frequent references to current events, pop culture and lingo, as well as a watered down and thinned out biblical portion. Many churches with this approach have done well to grow in their regular attendance. I mean, who wouldn’t want to hear an eye-catching and understandable message on a topic that very applicable to an individual’s life?

There are opposers, however. They (rightfully, I’ll add) question the predominantly topical approach and the shallow involvement of Scripture in sermons. However, the seeming “non-relevance” in what is often their approach (which I’ll get to later) does little to nothing for church growth and even discipleship.

My stance? Preach the Word, and let it be relevant.

I think the term is embarrassingly redundant. The Bible is relevant. All of it. To everything. When one looks at a box of mac & cheese and reads the caption “Made with Real Cheese!”, one would think, Of course it’s real cheese. As opposed to what else? Sadly, people have used fake cheese. We do not need to make the Bible relevant. We can only make it irrelevant. We need to let it be relevant.

We make the Bible “non-relevant” when we:

1. Treat sermons like classroom lectures. Having studied the Bible and theology in academic seminars in my undergrad and grad school, I learned the difference between education and edification. There’s a reason that, in seminaries, there’s a difference in pedagogy between preparing a sermon and preparing a lecture. Academic lectures are primarily meant to feed the mind, and, by New Testament standards, were never meant to be a primary part of gathering. Sermons, on the other hand, are meant to be a healthful and applicable interpretation of the Word that feeds the soul.

One animated missions/outreach pastor I once met spoke against his own received compliments, saying, “God doesn’t want to hear ‘nice talk!’ He wants your life.” We need to always remember to “not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says (Jas. 1:22).” Do we really apply the Word to our daily life and strive for biblical living? Or do we just peruse sermons (or even churches) like we’re auditing a class?

2. Drown the Gospel in temporal addenda. One reason that some people oppose any type of “relevant” message is because they see their own and familiar approach to ministry as more biblical with less or no “packaging.” The problem with this argument, however, is that the Gospel is always “packaged” in some way, and canonizing the cultural “packaging” makes the Gospel itself more implausible and “non-relevant” to others. “Relevant” services, arguably, are a seeming over-reaction to the American church’s aura of insistence that, to be a Christian, you must immediately wear certain professional clothes, appreciate only limited styles of music, speak and understand “Christian-ese,” attend weekly and seeming inapplicable theology/doctrine lectures, and sometimes a whole host of other extra-biblical additions that more than detracted from the life of Truth-inspired love and sacrifice we’re all called to.

The Gospel is transcendent and timeless. Influential ministers, musicians, ministry fads, kitschy cliches and extra-biblical traditions will all pass away, but the Word of God will remain forever. The communicability of the Word of God from the pulpit to wandering unbelievers is an arguable call Paul makes to the Corinthians. The Gospel, at its core, is a beautiful gift for all the world. Let’s not wrap up the message with any ugly “non-relevant” packaging.

Question of Relevance

So, how “relevant” is the Bible to you? You’d be surprised. Take for example, Jesus’s command not to divorce (Mt. 5:32). At first, one might brush it off after face value as just another taboo for those in struggling marriages, but it actually applies to everyone. Jesus was, in fact, speaking to a people who had (and used) the power to divorce at the slightest thing (e.g. my wife burned my supper!). Therefore, His command not to divorce isn’t a dispassionate and legalist statement, but rather an encouragement for more grace, forgiveness and love in marriage. This could apply to all relationships and friendships in general.

Hmm. That passage just became more relevant. I wonder what the rest of the Bible has to say.

Go Ahead. Go to Starbucks.

2011-11-02T17:17:00.001-04:00

There’s always a few questions with how Christians should use their money because there’s always paradox and/or tension. We ought to be frugal and charitable, but we can’t always trust what’s cheap. We try not to support business that fuels greed, materialism and other unhealthful mindsets. I’ve, personally, heard a lot of jokes at Starbucks’s expense, but I can tell you that I’d support a Christian that gets their coffee at Starbucks. Contrary to perception, buying from Starbucks is one of the most charitable everyday things an everyday Christian can do.

Now I know that Starbucks doesn’t always have the charitable aura. They multiplied (maybe even overpopulated) across the world and toted their endless possibilities for coffee-tailoring to fit your style. If there was to be a poster company for kitschy over-commercialization, self-serving materialism and corporate greed, both Christians and non-Christians would nominate Starbucks, along with McDonald’s and maybe a few other hackneyed chains.

But that’s an unfair stereotype of Starbucks. There’s a reason or two Starbucks has, unlike many other chains its size, made it onto Forbes and Ethixphere’s list of “most ethical businesses.”

Their coffee beans and food supplies are “responsibly grown” and “ethically traded,” supporting the farmers' businesses and communities across the world. Their paper is primarily recycled, and many stores give the leftover pastries to a local homeless shelter. Starbucks also supports various charities that don’t get much support, such as Ethos Water or the Red program.

And what also makes a business ethical is how they treat their employees. About five years ago, I put on a Starbucks apron (as many other seminary students did) looking only to fund my grad school living costs with maybe some pocket change, but I also learned how to better meet people and provide for their needs. Both of my daughters were provided the best local pediatrician care under Starbucks’s very affordable health insurance (and both of them were born during the economy’s downturn).

I worked at Starbucks for three years, and I still don’t like coffee. It isn’t the perfect business, but it’s not the scrooge that the cynics make to be, either. People may complain about their prices (and believe me, I got more than an employee’s earful when the cost of a drink went up a whopping 10 cents), but they can rest assured that it’s much more likely to fund a local nonprofit charity than a CEO’s personal jet.

Myself, I’m looking forward to a peppermint eggnog chai, and I’m very curious as to what charitable alliance they will promote this year.

Visiting the Billy Graham Library, Learning Spiritual Disciplines of a God-Empowered Legacy

2011-10-28T11:51:00.000-04:00

I recently took milady with me to a worship leader conference in Charlotte. We enjoyed the plethora of sugar in authentic sweet tea and the good taste of grits. My stomach needed a little time to adjust to the fried chicken and hush puppies, but by far the highest recommendation was to visit the Billy Graham Library. We had some spare time after the conference, so we went on over.

The free attraction features Billy Graham’s childhood home, moderately preserved and relocated just a few miles from its original site. It also features a large, comprehensive biographical museum, a bookstore, “Prayer Gardens” and the burial site of Billy Graham’s wife, Ruth.

I’ve spent most of my childhood as well as my undergraduate years just a few blocks from Billy Graham’s alma mater, Wheaton College, which also features a museum and many other honoring collections in their archives, but the experience of the Library gave me pause to think about, specifically, as a teachable pastor myself, how God was able to use Billy Graham to leave a legacy of love, evangelism and biblical influence that really won’t be matched for a while.

I took a few notes:

Simple, yet creative communication. Billy Graham always spoke biblical truth into the microphone. One of his signature phrases is “The Bible says . . .” He acknowledged the biblical reality of future judgment and wrath from God, but he, rightly (unlike textbook hellfire preachers) and certainly did not let that define God’s character. Graham’s been criticized on occasion that his “packaging” of the gospel is out-of-date, but as a student of cultural exegesis, as I watched Graham interviewed by various pop culture icons of the past and present (e.g. Woody Allen, Johnny Carson), I’d have to disagree. Graham also put his work early and often in newly-created television, and that helped his ministry like the Romans‘ roads. (Unfortunately, there’s so many more options in technology now and getting people’s attention is a bit more difficult).
He never took a strong political side. Christopher Hitchens, the celebrity atheist, would know if he did. Hitchens has a hobby of doing research on his opponents (who are mostly Christians with a proud political agenda) and ripping them apart in his writings. I’ve seen him do that to many, yet he had little-to-no political dirt on Graham who, for several decades, strived to follow 1 Tim. 2:1-2 and was a sincere and biblical friend to consecutive Presidents of all shades.
He was for unity. Graham didn’t want theological non-essentials to keep the Church from being united in its priority mission: evangelism and outreach. He worked with many Roman Catholics and also the Baptist churches that stubbornly insisted on baptism in their facility. (He’s, therefore, been baptized many times). The simple biblical-ity of his words and mission makes our bickering look embarrassing.
He was humble and prayerful. Graham’s always made strides to avoid mistakes and scandal. Every evangelistic “Crusade” was audited and shown in the local paper. Legend has it that decoy employees preceded Graham into almost every room to avoid a photo scandal. Graham has turned down opportunities and money, insisting on simple living in a smaller town in North Carolina. But when he was approached about mistakes he did make, he remorsefully acknowledged them. He doesn’t attribute his ministerial “success” to any of his felt qualifications, or even the aspects of his ministry I’m writing about right now, but only to the power of God. I’ll never forget his three steps to a successful “Crusade”: Prayer, prayer and prayer.

I left the Library very much humbled by the life of this exemplary man. He seems to shine like a diamond among many modern Christians that are known primarily for something other than preaching God’s love to the broken. It’s my hope that I (and many others) can strive to be more Christ-like as he was. And it starts with letting God do the work through you. Without you.

Thoughts and Some Babbling on Worship (and) Service

2011-10-21T17:42:00.000-04:00

In the debates over the philosophy of worship (I’ve been a part of a few), a fairly hackneyed tactic of research is to look into the etymology and history of the word “worship” itself. I say “hackneyed” because D.A. Carson, an authority on exegesis and its fallacies, has gone on such a mission and forewarned (in Worship By the Book, 14-15) that the journey will not reap an absolute and conclusive finding.

One of the alternate translations of the biblical terms for “worship” is, interestingly enough, “service.” It makes the term “worship service” seem a bit redundant. Of course, we may know the rightful cliche that a Christian’s worship is not limited to the musical gatherings of Sunday mornings, or even to any events under a church’s roof.

But how much do we really believe that?

Humble service to God is worship, and worship is meant to be a lifestyle. It is to flow like a fountain from our hearts in the forms of love, Truth and service to our fellow depraved man, out of celebration of the grace, love and hope we’ve received and want to share. This, in my opinion, shines the light of Christ to broken hearts and shows a more God-glorifying resolve than words sung in a private gathering of believers.

We need more of the former. We may believe that true worship isn’t limited to Sunday mornings, but we don’t act like it. I fear that, for many in this country, we have, in James K. A. Smith’s words, “appended a domesticated Jesus to our American dream . . . something we can add to our life without disrupting the rest of it.” How so? Well, to start off, we give stingy tips at restaurants, hang up on telemarketers, and give the same ungracious respect political leaders we’re called to pray for. These are just a few examples of how we are called to be counter-cultural, striving for the biblical model of love of all God’s creation, charity to the poor/sick/neglected and submission to the government.

Musicians also need to adapt a model of servanthood to their training and giftedness. We can’t expect to merely attach God’s name to musical prowess and expect ministerial results along with the amenities of a good musical performance. How different is such a “Christian” group, then? How about playing for a fundraiser for a hospital, charity or prison? How about giving away free food? How about attaching your relational love and care to the concert?

True worship is not just music and a Sunday morning. It’s a lifestyle of service. Not because you have to, but because you want to.

I recently went to a worship gathering held by one of the world’s premier worship-leading ensembles, Hillsong United. I gave them that introduction for good reason. Their songs reflect deep Scriptural Truth and poetry and professional musical execution and are played by churches worldwide. They preach the Gospel and encourage Bible-reading and church involvement. They’ve also fundraised for the diseased in Africa. In their recent tour, my wife and I were a bit disappointed they didn’t play a few of our favorite songs about salvation and heaven, but we sensed an obvious theme: service.

The songs they did choose had the following phrases in them: “our praise and all we are today, take it all,” “we’re giving it all away, we’re giving it all to go Your way,” “take my life, take all that I have, with all that I am, I will love you,” “the rhythms of grace overcome all of my ways, realigning each step everyday, to live for Your glory,” “I don't care what it costs anymore, ‘cause you gave it all and I'm following you, I don't care what it takes anymore, all day I’ll follow you,” “shine as the nations collide with your story, Your life on display, Your strength in our weakness,” “I give my life to follow, everything I believe in, now I surrender.”

Is more holistic service a seeming trend? If so, it’s good timing. The world is hurting. We all can talk about how worship is more than just on Sunday morning, and how we’re to “do it all for the glory of God.” Let’s start acting like it.

Where I Stand: Let Pastors Be Pastors, Churches Be Churches

2011-10-13T15:17:00.001-04:00

There’s been some talk within the new phenomenon that is the Christian blogosphere about highly influential lead pastors (namely, the recent Francis Chan and Rob Bell) who leave their churches, not necessarily due to a proverbial fall from grace, but for seeming more “positive” reasons.

Churchgoers in cyberspace have conjured many broad conclusions about the supposed biblical-ity and practicality of such a move. Some progressives seem to say it’s both a wise and tragic move, necessitated by the inability of church structure to meet the needs of the local culture. Others have strongly questioned why the priority of these more “positive” reasons are higher than that of the local church.

I really don’t think there’s a one-size-fits-all right or wrong answer to the dilemma. Every situation is different. Bell, for example, intends to bring his teachings to a “broader audience,” according to Mars Hill’s site. More recently, it’s been reported that he’ll have a speaking tour and then co-create a TV series. Chan, however, was and has been more vague about his departure from Cornerstone.

I think we (as the Church) need to let pastors be pastors, and churches be churches. Both cases in the biblical sense of the word.

First, the word “pastor” comes from the Hebrew term for shepherd. Sadly, its modern connotation smacks much more of “public speaker with a religious agenda.” In the New Testament’s church, the sermon was far from the predominant role of any church leader. It was much more the wise oversight of the spiritual health and growth of a small community. This involved relationship-building, counseling, conflict resolution, and spiritual leadership amid many pressing issues in addition to doctrine and its logistics. In short, when the Bible speaks of the Lord as Shepherd that pastors are to imitate, and analogically lists His provisions (e.g. green pastures, still waters), and when the apostle Peter calls pastors, as shepherds, to be “eager to serve,” is it really just referring to teaching?

I’ve served at churches where the senior pastor is, almost literally, a regular guest speaker. He has almost no visible friendship with the congregation, and the rest of the staff seems to scramble in preparation for his weekly sermon, as if rolling out a red carpet. I’ve also seen pastors who have a shepherd’s heart, but their church grows substantially, without branching off. More paid staff are hired to handle the logistics of a church with big numbers. It seems sometimes, that the pastor’s job description is more like that of a CEO.

For the sake of church health, a pastor that both teaches and shepherds should be allowed to do just that, and a qualified other can be appointed for the various other tasks, following the disciples’ call (Acts 6:2).

Secondly, churches need to be churches. They need to be defined with the headship of Jesus Christ and constant leadership regeneration. (They also need to be different than some businesses). They exist to be Jesus’s hands and feet, too, not just His mouth. It’s a bit eerie how, in ministry and in business, the definition of success sometimes seems similar. An individual church, in essence or practice, should not be defined by its leader. Otherwise, that leader will leave a big hole, maybe even taking the church’s foundation with him.

I think it’s obvious that, when an influential pastor leaves his church, sometimes it’s good; sometimes it’s bad. Some are called to teach, perhaps, exclusively, but some are called to shepherd. It’s hard to argue that you can shepherd while living out of a suitcase. However, I have one colleague who (similar to Chan) stepped down from his leadership position because he feared a “him-centered” church and wanted to pass on the proverbial torch to the trained leadership.

While the Christian blogosphere debates this (and many other things!) and likely does not come to an answer, I do believe that this issue brings into perspective our respective philosophies of leadership and ecclesiology. It’s my hope that we hold to biblical principles. Bottom line: the world needs more shepherd-like servants in the pulpit.

Thoughts?

Five Things I Wish I’d Listened to and Learned at Wheaton College

2011-10-06T17:58:00.001-04:00

Tomorrow, my wife and I head back to our ol’ stomping grounds. It was where we met each other. During the impoverished and nomadic years of grad school, we occasionally visited Wheaton College and felt unsettled, like college was so recent that we didn’t feel fully graduated. Now, however, since I have a job and toddlers who have walked the halls of my alma mater, and I’m being formally invited to Homecoming (it’s my 5-year reunion), I feel like an official alumnus. For the first time.

Dwelling on and anticipating the reunion, I know I can’t sum up the themes of my education. No doubt a lot has happened since I set foot on Wheaton’s campus as a timid and insecure music nerd, anxious to make new friends. I’d had enough relatives who had graduated from Wheaton to tell me that it isn’t perfect. I dined on a feast of musical education and my creativity blossomed. There were a few regrets and unpleasant experiences, though, where I feel Wheaton and I share the blame.

This post isn’t against Wheaton, however. These are important life lessons for the Christ-follower that the Wheaton experience taught (and can also be learned in many other ways), but I didn’t learn until later. This post, therefore, is a grateful thank-you to Wheaton and an encouragement to all wishing to educate and qualify themselves (in all senses of the word).

1) Scripture first. Period. The Truths and applications of the Bible take first priority in how we live in every aspect of our lives. Not just in how we choose candidates to vote for and what we do on Sunday mornings, but also how we answer telemarketers, obey traffic laws and treat people that don’t agree with us. In college, I was falling in love with the depths of essence of the Bible, but I wasn’t quite brave enough to live and speak opposed to the cultural status quo or even the unbiblical ways of parts of the Church on Scripture’s behalf.

2) The Church should never be complacent. It should always be growing in maturity and numbers, and should never be resistant to constructive criticism. Otherwise, it’s ignoring its biblical mandates. I’ve seen students grow up in mission trips overseas only to misunderstand both cultural exegesis and spiritual need in our very own country. Our own backyard needs the work of the hands and feet of Christ, and it will take more than the suburban and seeming lethargic approach we’ve been having. I didn’t hear these facts as much as a music major, but when I did, at chapels and from more mature friends, I stubbornly denied them.

3) You are not what you do. My journey to learn this nugget actually started at Wheaton, as I had a mildly-depressing quandary during my seeming failures in a very competitive program. I thought I was redeeming myself by trying to get better grades in grad school. I still hadn’t learned. Defining your existence and purpose on something earthly is precarious, at best. That foundation will crumble. Why not define your existence in the love and purpose of God? Many Christians today, though, have given into the temptation of defining themselves by their successes, even their work and sanctification in God’s name.

4) College is education, not a way of life. I know this applies, certainly, to many twentysomethings out there who treat life like a frathouse, but that’s not what I primarily encountered at Wheaton. There were students (myself included) who interpreted Jesus’s gift of “life to the full” as a call to make the most (practically and academically, not socially and recreationally) out of their college experience, and, for many, this turned into unhealthful and stressful over-production. Much of the strive was to counter the inevitable. There was likely never going to be another time, in my life, where I had so much resource, time and opportunity to qualify myself in so many ways. For example, I may never be able to write music like I did when I was studying at a Conservatory. But that’s okay. I’m using so many things I learned in college in my daily work and life.

5) Your college is like a family member. You aren’t perfect, and neither are any of your relatives. Despite faults, there’s gotta be the smallest degree where you’re grateful for them. How you treat them speaks a lot about you and how you emanate the grace of Jesus Christ. Myself, there were times I wanted to walk away from Wheaton and never look back, but now, as an alumnus, continually striving, by God’s grace, to be more mature and less complacent, I’m looking forward to the reunion.

The Worship Leader/Shepherd: The New Norm?

2011-09-28T18:11:00.000-04:00

I was excited, as an ambitious college student, to be sitting across the cafeteria table from an influential speaker in modern worship leadership. I wanted to pick his brain, and I was talking all about my plans to go to seminary, let deep theology inform my creativity, and my hopes to produce powerful services and programs.

“How’s your musical performance ability?” he curiously asked.

Suddenly, I wasn’t as verbose.

“Some people are looking for the next Chris Tomlin,” he continued. “You might want to keep practicing.”

I was a bit worried. I don’t play guitar, and I don’t have near the vocal range of Chris Tomlin. I lead from the piano, and I was entering the ringer with production/ideation as my strength, and musical/performance as my weakness. Don’t get me wrong; I’m all about musical excellence . . . but I’m not necessarily a stage presence kind of guy and I lead from a stationary instrument.

A lot has changed for me since that dinner, but my friend is absolutely right.

When classical music was (and still is, for some) the basis for a church service’s music, the pastoral aspects of that of a Music Minister or Music Director were rarely mentioned or noticed. The musical resume, however, got plenty of notice. Such churches were (and are) proud of their music guru’s status as composer-in-residence, conductor of a local orchestra, etc. This notion has carried through the addition of contemporary worship services, as they (a minority, in my experience) like to post about a worship leader’s experience in a traveling band, ownership of a recording studio, etc. In both cases, very little (if anything) is mentioned about said leader’s passion and intentions for their role and service to the church.

In some cases, a church’s musical excellence, in my opinion, is overstated (perhaps a better word is “advertised”?). Sometimes the reason that their pastor-like qualifications aren’t mentioned is because they have none. I’ve served under the leadership of worship directors with whom I’ve never even shaken hands. They run rehearsals without a smile, lead the congregation, ironically, in “community worship,” and then leave to get back to their choir, opera or band tour. But the music was more than excellent.

Is worship leadership simply just a change in venue? Is it simply musical accompaniment that used and interpreted differently by a certain crowd such as a church’s congregation? There’s so many churches that have simply hired musicians (professional singers, conductors or rockstars) to bring musical prestige next to the pulpit . . . because that’s sadly what some congregants only care about.

Yet have the proverbial winds changed? Some churches have seemingly heard the curious and cynic’s call away from facade and business-like ministry and to community and sincerity. There are more worship leaders who oversee more than musical logistics. These are more the type of worship leaders I meet at conferences. They preach, they reach out to their volunteers, they give to the congregants, they involve themselves and they see “service production” as a pastoral process. They have sacrificed musical dreams and even some of their musical reputation on the altar because they believe, first and foremost, in the mission of the Church.

Some aspiring worship leaders have asked me how to qualify themselves. I tell them that worship staffs at churches don’t need more theologians or rockstars. They need more shepherds. And not just in the church staff, but in every worshipper’s heart.

I once had an internship during college in worship leadership. The worship pastor (my mentor) had a strong electrical engineering background, you know, the type of person a right-brainer like me is supposed to hate. He wasn’t a strongly creative person or great guitarist, and he sometimes sang off-key. But, oh, did he efficiently and lovingly oversee and run an excellent, creative and culture-impacting department. His mentorship taught me a lot more than other internships I’ve had with much more musical mentors.

Why? Because he is a shepherd. And I hope to be one, too.

Individual and Community Worship, Working for the Both-And

2011-09-22T15:55:00.000-04:00

When programming services and special events in the church, often this question comes up: Is this a worship song? This is rarely a question of theological content. Rather, it mostly pertains to the sing-ability and play-ability of the song itself. There are many good songs out there with professional execution and poetic lyrics that are good songs with which to listen, meditate, pray, and sing-along, but to which few church ensembles can do proverbial justice. “Worship Music” has become its own genre at Christian bookstores in the last decade or so, and I would define it as music that is written for the purpose of corporate musical worship.

Now, how many of said worshippers, myself included, think about the entailment of the word “corporate” in that last sentence. Why don’t people simply listen to MP3’s at home?

Community worship, including and beyond the musical, has its roots in the Old Testament. For the Israelites and for many a millennium, it was more than just submission and praise to God. The words of Jewish worship songs contain poetic recollections of God’s faithfulness through the best and worst of times in the past. They sing, as a people, of their experiences, as a people, and God’s faithfulness, to His people.

Worship in synagogues seemed a celebration not just of God’s sovereignty, but their identity, as a community, in him. They sang the stories of Moses and David, as they’re not just their past heroes. They’re their blood ancestors. As Christians, thinking of the worshipping Church as a community makes for a more intimate and edifying worship experience, better understanding God’s bigness as He has worked beyond one worshipping soul, throughout geography and history.

We need to worship in community. We all have experiences of tough times and God’s faithfulness as churches and families. Recently, my wife and I held hands while being led in worship by Hillsong United in Milwaukee. We were familiar with the songs, how each song’s lyrics touched each other’s hearts, and what stories of sorrow and God’s faithfulness they brought back. It was a time of intimate community worship. At least in my life, it needs to happen more often.

However, we can fall off the other side of the proverbial horse. Worshipping communities can become self-content, cliquish and uninviting. Worship does not only look to the past experiences with God but also to the future and glory.

Corporate worship is not meant to portray the idea that a lone member of a worshipping community is simply an account number in Heaven. God’s love and work in humanity is both universal and personal. There are events, circumstances and other life aspects that not always shared by all of a worshipping community. This is why I often see people closing their eyes, raising their hands and maybe even relocating to a more empty part of the room during worship. God’s working in their heart in an idiosyncratic way.

At the same time, there’s some truth to the cliche that worship “is not about you.”

I’ve long believed that arts in the Church should be, at the very least, multi-functional. Corporate musical worship should encourage 1) celebration of God’s attributes, 2) communication and contextualization of His Word and 3) affirmation in our identity as members of the family of God. Our worship is to celebrate both family and individual, as well as welcome new individuals, so that this non-biological family that is the Church, will healthfully grow.

Sincerity in Worship

2011-09-15T14:52:00.000-04:00

Those that know me understand that I have a lot of qualms with Brett McCracken’s wrongfully reductionistic review of “hipster Christians” in his book, Hipster Christianity. I have long held many of the biblical values that hipster Christians rightfully stand for. And I developed my convictions for those values out of deep biblical teachings received in seminary and God’s working in my heart, not from simply a longing to be seen as “cool,” as McCracken and other cynics might judge. (And, I honestly don’t feel any “cooler” than I was).

Nonetheless, I will stand by one statement McCracken wrote for the Wall Street Journal, when it comes to our nation’s church reaching young adults. Speaking on their (our) behalf, he said, “We don't want cool as much as we want real.” He has an important point.

Many church families have adopted growth plans that are eerily similar to business models. They buy the latest equipment, play the latest songs, speak on current events, put on unpredictably creative services, and offer a plethora of appealing programs and many other amenities. Very much a philosophy of “if you build it, they will come.” Such aspects can certainly be helpful to true ministry, but they’re meaningless if we’re insincere and detached.

What does it mean to be sincere in church? Trying not to over-simplify, it means there is almost no difference between the way you are on Sunday (especially up front) and the way you are if someone were to visit your home or run into you at the grocery store. If someone is seen smiling and praising God on Sunday and then yelling at a waiter on Friday, that’s an inconsistency that makes a curious onlooker doubt the sincerity of the worship and, sometimes, the very character of God.

Sincerity is the opposite of insincerity, and we’re more familiar with the latter. Someone can vivaciously engage the congregation from up front, but is strangely wooden, unapproachable or even rude in person. Some of us might of had a conversation with a good smiler, honestly wanting to get to know them, but could tell they couldn’t wait to get home, stop smiling and move on. All across the church, there’s people who don’t smile enough, and there’s people who smile too much, in both cases for the wrong reasons.

What does this mean for musical worship volunteers (since that’s under my job description)? Let yourself be a bit more expressive. Discard any facades or felt obligations to overt and extra-biblical propriety. Don’t the words and truths of songs make you want to raise your arms, look to the Heavens and shout for joy? Don’t worry about being a distraction to others; monitoring that is the worship leader’s job. If you focus on the authenticity of your own worship to God, your sincerity will be seen and imitated by the congregation.

For everyone participating in musical worship, be honest with God. Don’t leave your burdens, qualms and doubts at the door so musical worship can be an easier emotional experience for you. Bring them forward, cast them at God’s feet, and let the sung truths, the love of the community, and the work of the Spirit work on them with you.

This is not call to extroversion or any tell-all confessionals, but a healthy degree of transparency in necessary for the building of community within a group of people, and this is true in worship and worship leadership. This is why most exemplary worship leaders today no longer eye the congregation with a exhorting smile like a children’s choir director. Rather, they’re raising their arms, and either closing their eyes or looking at their audience of One.

There was once a church that sang only original songs, and some of them might have been, musically, pretty bad. The laymen congregation chose the song list each week, and many loud singers couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. Plus, it might have seemed chaotic with all the animated expression during worship and the seeming disruptive loud praying. After all, this church could only meet in someone’s house. By many standards today, this church wouldn’t stand a chance.

But this church was from the first century in Rome. It was a sincere and loving community that grew, and was a part of the largest “religious growth” in history. So, what’s holding us back from being transparent and welcoming so we can all, as a community, celebrate the love of Jesus Christ together?

How are you really feeling?

Nostalgia, Good Distractions and Focused Worship

2011-09-08T16:44:00.000-04:00

During my second semester at a Christian college, an event-sponsoring committee produced a creative and brilliant idea into quite the attended bash: a full-blown rock concert where the repertoire was exclusively the Christian rock hits of the mid-to-late 90’s, with a few more throwbacks even further into the past.

Hundreds of young Christian collegians, myself included, scrambled into the small and dusty chapel building. This event likely garnered more attendance in the outmoded sanctuary than most other events, including mostly classical recitals and non-campus-wide worship services. Like I said, this concert was a hit. The vast and mosh-pitting audience was happily flashed back to junior high school memories as the peer-composed rock band cranked out tunes from the Newsboys’ “Going Public” album, dc Talk’s “Jesus Freak,” and they were some extra cheers for the surprising performance of Michael W. Smith’s “Place in This World.”

It’s rare, surprisingly, that you would see such a diverse group of collegial Christians in one room and so unified in enjoyment of and connection with the music and with each other.

But was it worship? Not so much.

Since I was there, and a happy attendant as well, I include my own heart in that assertion. Let’s take, for example, the Newsboys’ song “Spirit Thing.” It was played that night. It’s a great song that helped to teach me, in my adolescence, about submission to the work of the Holy Spirit in my daily life. I still have the chorus memorized:

It’s just a Spirit thing. It’s just a holy nudge. It’s like a circuit judge in the brain.

It’s just a Spirit thing. It’s here to guard my heart. It’s just a little hard to explain.

Now, I will confess that, during that song’s “bring-back” in that chapel, I was not thinking much about how I’m currently submitting to the Spirit’s influence in my daily life. And I don’t imagine that really anyone else was, either. We weren’t paying much attention, in our minds, to the applicable didacticism of the songs or, in our hearts, singing some of the God-attributive lyrics directly to Him as a prayer. We were rather bathing ourselves in a wonderful nostalgic experience, going back to the good times of junior high school.

Now a purposeful time of nostalgia is not, inherently, a bad thing in itself. But it is if it replaces and undermines what is meant to be a environment of corporate worship. This is because you’re not thinking about the lyrics, and you’re not communicating with God. You’re thinking more about the memories (even good and spiritual memories) that are brought back by that song or style. Just as poor musical execution and many other things can be explicitly “bad” distractions for a worshiping heart, fulfilled nostalgia can be a subtle “good” distraction.

And it’s really hard to argue against nostalgia, sometimes, because some people have wrongfully pinned down a certain musical style, worship philosophy, and/or various method as the singular functional way to lead worship.

What we need to do is check our minds during musical worship. What, exactly, are we doing? Are we focusing our hearts to use the words of the songs as an honest and direct statement to God, all the while listening to what He might say via the music, Scripture or a friend? Or are we privately analyzing the logistics of the service? Or are we remembering the good old days?

How distracted are we? How distract-able should we be? In our minds, are expectations for musical worship’s accompaniment and logistics so specific and absolute that our minds lose track of God easily?

When it comes to musical worship, it’s a big and complicated world. I say that because things are changing and diversifying to the point that even remembering the Christian music of my junior high years (15 years ago) was a true nostalgic experience. In high school, I could name every artist on the pre-dominantly pop/rock Billboard and enjoyed going to Christian rock concerts. Now, the Billboard is no longer filled with pop-rock artists (who I can’t even name anymore) but with rap and hip-hop icons who aren’t my cup of tea. The Christian music industry is arguably on a decline, but worship music (which I define as music written for corporate singing) has become its own genre. This is only scratching the surface.

Big changes. Lots of music. I’ve got a lot of history to learn and a lot of culture to keep up with and understand (I’m only 27 and I already sometimes feel “out of touch” in even understanding pop culture). There’s so many different types of people out there.

But every once in a while, I meet a holistic worshipper at my church. Someone that doesn’t care about style or even execution, but who will always use the theologically rich and deeply poetic lyrics of the songs I choose and reflect upon them, using them as an edifying conversation between him/her and God. Musically and logistically, I could really botch things up, but he/she doesn’t care.

That’s what a focused worshipper looks like. And that’s what we all (myself included) need to strive to be.

Death of the Consumer Church, pt. 4: Purposeful Family Reunions, not Extra-Curricular Activities

2011-08-25T18:08:00.000-04:00

EDIT: The review of Chan/Preston's Erasing Hell has been delayed because, ironically, it got erased from my computer.

It was a sad and humbling transition for my family and I. I didn’t have a full-time job, so I worked at a local coffeeshop for health insurance coverage and some pocket change while we all moved in with my wife’s parents, far from any place I, personally, had considered home. We had an uncertain future, almost no local friends, and we couldn’t afford anything.

We thought we’d attend a church plant in the area. It was led by my wife’s old youth pastor, and was in a denomination I respected. They met Sunday evenings in a rented and very traditional sanctuary in a blue-collar and shady neighborhood just outside of the crime-ridden portion of the general metropolitan area.

This church helped to define the aspect of community that should be found in more churches in our business-dominated nation. It was hard for any member of the community to compartmentalize or hide their life outside of it. It was a big deal (as it was usually because of concerning reasons) if someone didn’t attend a Sunday evening gathering. The pastor never said anything along the lines of “see you next week!” because we all knew we would have smaller gatherings and get-togethers at least four times again before the next service. After service dinners out (highly attended) were common. Community groups kept growing and reproducing. Social activities and parties between members were frequent. This was a church body that was much more like a family than members of a gym or country club. Whatever happened, we grew or bled as one unit.

Was it partly because of our small size? Yes. But it’s also because it was a community of like-minded people who vulnerably bear each other’s burdens of impoverishment, drug/alcohol addiction, broken relationships and other trials of life. They took seriously the New Testament’s call (from Jesus, Luke and Paul) to regular community and fellowship, and were willing to sacrifice a lot (and I mean a lot) to compassionately, not judgmentally, bring the Gospel message and biblical love to what was clearly a godless and penniless town.

My family and I were obviously excited to take part in every “church activity,” not out of a felt obligation or duty, but because it was an opportunity to be with friends and family, to serve and to be edified. Yes, the church was “all we had,” but, in contrast, all other activities outside of a day-job/school (which many were using to witness, etc.) seemed futile.

I invoke this true personal story because the consumer church (which we’ve been talking about for a few entries) is on the other side of the spectrum. Elsewhere, church involvement will find itself on a laundry list of other seeming extra-curricular activities, and it will have to compete hard to climb in priority. Some pursue heavy church involvement for the wrong reasons. Others scoff at it as a legalist method to feel holier-than-thou. But, for the stereotype that is the consumer church, the “commitment level” is on the checklist as they sometimes shop for churches because they want to know how much time involvement in a particular church will take away from the rest of their weekly lives.

Does that last sentence sound wrong? I think it should, especially from the perspective of the New Testament’s Church.

The Church, as laid out in the New Testament, has much more the essence and structure of a family, rather than a business. This is why it hurts when people leave. This is also because the Church itself is based upon a Truth that is meant to infiltrate and affect every aspect of one’s life (like a family identity/relationship), not just part of it (like a day job). It operates similarly to a family in that the more time, energy and sacrifice you give to it, the more you receive. Sometimes I miss out on some of my extended family reunions or communications. Do I, then, even have the right to complain about how disconnected or out-of-the-loop I feel at the next reunion? I wouldn’t even dare complain about how my family involves too much commitment or time.

Even though I have friends and colleagues who have sacrificed much (time, dreams, even financial stability) for service in the local church or some type of ministry, I’m not suggesting any rash decisions here. Simply put, church “activities” don’t even belong on the same list as Computer Club.

Reasonable, Relational, and Inspirational: a review of Tim Keller’s "The Reason for God"

2011-08-02T10:33:00.003-04:00

Apologetics seems a different animal these days. The most well-researched books are shelved equally alongside editorial fluff at chain bookstores, and sometimes well-researched arguments are useless in a world of relativism and relational-ity.

Enter Tim Keller, a pastor from Manhattan who differs in many ways from most the pastors that make headlines in media and Christian media. Described as “the pioneer of the new urban Christians,” (Christianity Today magazine) his ministry is in a geyser of new and pervasive cultural trends and thoughts, and is different from the suburban or small-town approaches that have come to define the stereotype of much of American Christian worldview. Keller is not politically argumentative. His congregation consists mostly of young singles and “nontraditional households (xiv).” When his church attendance exceeded capacity, the church reproduced and appointed new leadership, rather than building a megachurch or simulcasting campuses. His church’s worship music mostly consists of classical music, with the participation of Julliard students, etc.

Keller writes The Reason for God for “two kinds of people,” he told B&N Studio. It’s for the non-believers who have doubts that are, in Keller’s words, “passionate, well thought-out and deserving respect,” and it’s for Christians who want to gently and relationally approach those doubts with others.

In his introduction, Keller relays his testimony and the events surrounding his planting a church in the heart of New York City. He shows himself as someone that, in the past, struggled with doubt as far as the existence of God and the trustworthiness of the Church, as well as the arguments of secular humanist thought.

One of his main points (which is significant for all readers) in his introduction is that, simply put, things are complicated. Whether in debates on political thought, theological non-essentials (and even some essentials) or church practice, the answers, Keller argues, are not as black-and-white and simple as anyone believes. However, there’s an unnecessarily widening gap between opponents, both in relationship and the spectrum of thought. There isn’t explicit instruction, but Keller might be discussing this pending schism upfront to call his readers (both Christian and non-Christian) away from stubbornness and demonization and to more of a relational (yet not necessarily compromising) form of conversing and living.

Part 1 of Reason for God is structured by arguments against Christianity, all of which have surfaced in some form in his conversations with attendants (or would-be attendants) of his church in New York, and many of which have also been carried from skeptics of ancient philosophy to the leaders of the New Atheism. And like a conversation with a would-be Christian over a cup of coffee, he replies to the arguments gently, conversationally, and thoroughly.

One pet peeve among argumentative anti-apologists I’ve noticed is the notion that most to all of the defenses that Christians give are handed-down, quick-wit, simple cliches (and I’ll admit, some of them are). Keller, however, shows well that many of the defenses that non-Christians have are just as well. These are one-liners that don’t usually have too much substance or justification, but they sure sound nice to abruptly end a conversation, and they’re a pain for the opponent to unpack. As both sides are using seeming cheap shots, not only in debate but even in constructing worldviews, it’s another good reason to strive for a more relational form of conversing and living.

Keller, however, does make some assertions that might make some Christian readers uncomfortable. He affirms some students’ argument that religion is an enemy to world peace (4) (but he does not believe the same for orthodox Christian living, by itself). He also acknowledges the possible truth of theistic evolution. In the chapter that responds to church hypocrisy, he dips into the classic Reformed view of depravity, seemingly (in my opinion) having non-Christians to expect little success from Christians in their strive toward moral purity. I wish, obviously, he could have further unpacked the latter issue, maybe bringing Bertrand Russell’s arguments to the table or using the opportunity to explain the crucial difference between (I’m about to use theological jargon) justification and sanctification, which many of readers, more used to the “I’ll-go-to-heaven-because-I’m-a-good-person” misconception, won’t know.

After an intermission, we enter Part 2, where Keller discusses “The Reasons for Faith.” Although some portions of the chapters read more like a not-so-engaging philosophy textbook, Keller does well to maintain his conversational tone, and, through connecting his theological points to conversations he’s had in New York and to current issues, he makes the theological tenets of Christianity rightfully relevant to the reader, whereas a basic statement of faith (on which Part 2 seems structured) would come across much more detached.

Keller’s references (which he cites thoroughly) are very diverse in history, geography, profession and spiritual status. His “notes” for this book fill up a chapter’s worth of pages at the end. In Keller’s closing epilogue, like the rest of the book, he concludes with what he (and Christians) believe as truth and gently leaves the personal application up to the reader, whereas another apologetics book or tract would be more aggressive and impersonal with conviction.

In retrospect, I think there are a few more specific issues he would have tackled. Evolution is not the only snag in reconciling faith and science in many people’s minds today. Noah’s flood and the parting of the Red Sea are a couple others. I think it would have also been helpful to tactfully address the sinfulness of homosexual practice in the first section of the book, as that issue continues to make Christianity more and more implausible in Western society.

I am a bit sad that I’m typing this book’s review on its 2-year birthday, and that I hadn’t heard of it before. I wish this book had more attention. It stands out from most the popular moderns in Christian apologetics (e.g. Strobel, McDowell, P. Hitchens, Craig, etc.) not so much because of its substance or level of research (which certainly isn’t lacking), but because of its surprising relational and non-aggressive tone.

The book’s very title uses the word “reason,” not “proof.” This book is not written like an argument in a courtroom or a laundry-list-filled textbook. Nor does this book have any distant association to any type of non-Christian movement or person. Keller is clear that there is no intention or capability (anywhere) to prove anything (e.g. “Nothing in history can be proven the way we can prove something in a laboratory,” 219), but there are, for him and Christians, very convincing clues and very good reasons to believe in the resurrection of Jesus Christ and in the Truth of His words as found in the Gospels. Keller is not a lawyer or a professor by trade (though’s he qualified for the latter), rather a pastor. And because of that, readers will close the book and think that Keller lovingly hopes and prays that they will, one day, agree with the reasons and clues he sees, fully committing their lives to the love and service of Jesus Christ.

And they would be right.

You Might Live in Sheboygan Falls, Wi if . . .

2011-07-18T13:37:00.002-04:00

I love living in Sheboygan Falls. I've already lived in more than one place within the community, and I quite enjoy the town. I could go on and on about it, but I thought I'd have a little fun.

Admittedly, some of these are only understood if you live nearby, but some are typical small-town midwest stereotypes. What is true about each item on this list, however, is that I'm guilty of it.

Enjoy! Feel free to add more.

You might live in Sheboygan Falls, WI if . . .
-You’ve slept within a mile of famous golfers.
-The only line or rush at the post office is the five people waiting for it to open at 9am on weekdays.
-You don’t dare drive north on Broadway through downtown late on weekday afternoons. It’s the most congested time of the week.
-You make sure you have a good balance of Kohler and Bemis products.
-No one can beat Broadway’s popcorn, Firehouse’s pizza, or Parkview’s steaks. Hands down.
-You show up 15 minutes early to get a good seat for 5 minute parade.
-You eagerly attend an annual festival where thousands of rubber ducks are dumped into a river for a glacial race.
-You’ve walked to the downtown gas station to buy some snacks and soda, since most the stores and restaurants are closed at 5.
-You’ve taken your children to festivals involving outdoor pony rides, both in July and December.
-You notice the 10-degree temperature differences between you and your lakeside friends.

For God's Sake, Let Me Help!

2011-07-08T16:45:00.001-04:00

Self-congratulations on my first blog entry that’s entitled by a quote from Star Trek’s Dr. Leonard McCoy! In my defense, this was already a working title before I connected it with my Trekkie past. And such phrases have been used as titles before (see D. A. Carson’s book For the Love of God).

But I digress.

True story (but with names/places changed): A middle-aged couple, Wes and Kim, once leaders of a church plant in Seattle, had relocated to Baltimore. Wes now worked at a factory to support Kim and their teenaged children, but they still found ways to use the spiritual and ministerial gifts God had given them by serving in a growing church plant there in the Baltimore area.

Then their marriage hit a storm. They stopped coming to church. They slept in separate rooms, sometimes even separate houses. Mike, a pastor at the church plant who had been counseling them, couldn’t believe that Wes, a former pastor himself, would say such things about his own wife. Nonetheless, the small church plant came around Wes and Kim, prayed for them and helped them to reconcile.

A few months after the ripples of the struggles had settled, Wes and Kim wanted to, respectfully, leave the church plant’s fellowship and serve somewhere else. It wasn’t disappointment in the church plant’s community, services or even philosophy. With a renewed passion for their marriage, they wanted to “start afresh” in a new church family elsewhere. After all, this little church plant family had seen Wes and Kim at their worst, weakest and most vulnerable state, having helped them through their potential separation.

It’s interesting, because Mike thought that reasoning is exactly why they should stay at the church plant.

Wes and Kim remind me of a lot of Christians today that developed a talent for cover-ups. Whether it’s a sin they’re honestly struggling with, a travesty or an impairment, they strive for self-sufficiency and the impression that they’re doing just fine. Seems somewhat selfless, doesn’t it? Nobody wants to be a burden, and there’s probably bigger problems to deal with, right?

How much of such an effort is made out of pride?

We like to be seen as self-sufficient and professional, which isn’t surprising in a country that celebrates independence. In the Church, this cultural mentality has to collide with the Christian truth that all have sinned, making the congregation a mixed group of broken, dependent, needy people. This is exactly why the Church’s fellowship exists (Acts 4): to provide for the needy (spiritually, financially, everything) through God’s blessings.

The popular hymn “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” reflects on Phil. 4:6, and it goes into great detail about the “peace we forfeit” and the “pain we needlessly bear” because we do not pray. The popular three stanzas don’t address that the verse from Philippians encourages prayer and petition. If you have been blessed with the fellowship of a church that has offered to bear some of your burdens, please take them up on their offers. It helps you. It helps them. It gives glory to God.

I struggle with this, too, sometimes. When I’m sick, I tend to isolate myself from the family and sleep it off, get better on my own. I tell myself and my wife that I might be contagious and don’t want to be a burden, but it’s ultimately pride and manhood that I’m trying to prove. I needed help. I had to swallow a lot of pride, having a masters degree and a family of 4, to acknowledge, both to myself and to my in-laws, that I can’t financially afford to support my family right now . . . and I needed help.

Do you need help? Be honest. Has someone offered to help? Take them up on it.

Five Things American Christians Can Do Out of Love for Their Country

2011-07-04T00:26:00.000-04:00

I’ll admit it. I do love my country. There’s a lot to admire about the vision upon which it was founded. Amenities are enjoyable, and we’ve got a lot of great scenery here. However, I’m working on myself right now to love my country with a different and higher type of love, and not a shallow, obsessive, nostalgic, or conditional type of love I can be tempted to have.

    The biblical model of love, as described in 1 Cor. 13 and lived out by Christ and the Church’s founding fathers, is a powerful and selfless catalyst, and a willing martyr. I’ve been thinking a lot about true biblical living, and if I’m doing it.

    Going deeper into the quotable basics of the Great Commission and the command to love your neighbor, here’s five things (of many more I can’t produce right now) Christians can do out of love for their country, but often don’t.

5. Be a steward of your local environment. (Psalm 24:1) During Al Gore’s global
warming campaign and the release of the movie Inconvenient Truth, I participated in some online debates with peers. By no means am I qualified or planning to open up that can of worms here, but I found one knee-jerk argument disturbing.

    One Christian put forth the logic that, since God created the world (true), placed humanity to rule the world (true) and the world will be destroyed later anyway (true, depending on your view of eschatology and etymology), our treatment of the world is ultimately irrelevant. We can trash it.

    Where this logic fails is that Scripture doesn’t allow that type of logic when applied to how we treat our own bodies or our own money and possessions, even though all those are also temporal. The call to stewardship flows through Scripture, pertaining to the environment, our bodies, money, belongings and everything that was given to us to rule over.

    So please, invest in “green” and energy-saving technology on occasion. See what fruits and flowers can grow in your yard. Adopt a road. Recycle when you can, and don’t instantly scoff at every climatologist and environmentalist campaign. God made this planet for us, so let’s not make it look like we’re putting up our feet on the coffee table.

4. Support ethical businesses. (1 Cor. 15:33) We can talk endlessly about the “rat
race” that exists in America, and how people sacrifice healthful sleep, family relations and even their own values to get a higher income. I think, however, the same thing happens when we (even though we’re not looking for higher incomes), look for lower prices or a “steal.”

    Media piracy, for example, can contribute to job loss in Hollywood for the people that aren’t rolling in the dough. Other businesses may have made some unsupportable compromises to bring that price down for your convenience (e.g. child labor, malpractice in outsourcing, general unfairness to employees, etc.). We are a deprived species, so no business is morally flawless.

    Nonetheless, I’ve been striving to research what are the more ethical businesses, and I shop every week at the local farmer’s market (which also helps support the local economy). This is more for my sake than the unethical businesses (small boycotts alone won’t stop corporate greed), because I want to know that the money that I’ve been entrusted is being used in ways that reflect the values of the Giver, and I want to encourage the businesses out there that haven’t made huge ethical compromises to the way they do business.

    Won’t that be a bit more costly? Well, such is the Christian life. All-around.

3. Help the sick, poor and the oppressed. (Gal. 2:10, Jas. 1:27) My favorite undertone in the foundation of my home country is the preset that “all men (gender-inclusive) are created equal.” (This sentence was written despite the African slave trade being a hypocritical eyesore, which would be addressed later).

    The pre-Constantine church in Rome, likewise, affirmed the God-given value of human life. They were a voice against abortion, infanticide, misogynist attitudes (which were extreme back then). They were also a voice against the activities of the coliseum, where slaves, criminals, and even Christians themselves were brutally killed for mass entertainment.

    As much as our government today strives to uphold its founding ideal, I’m sure we can name people that are (wrongfully) considered insignificant. It’s a biblical mandate to care for the needy, whether through hospitality, giving and emotional support.

    I remember that the Good Samaritan, upon seeing a ransacked man, almost dead, lying on the side of the road, didn’t hesitate with any self-questions (e.g. was this man’s suffering just? Is this man righteous? Will he exploit my help?). He just saw it as a simple axiom: hurt needs help. Jesus deemed the Samaritan a good neighbor. Let’s strive to be good neighbors to our hurting region. No matter the source or reason for a sickness, impoverishment, grief or oppression, persecution or harmful neglect are not what Christians, who believe in the value and dignity of human life, should stand for.

    Invest in good charitable organizations. Buy from or donate to (without trying to get some money on Craig’s List first, like I used to do) the local thrift store. Generously tip the servers and all employees that make an effort. If you want to be more involved, volunteer at a soup kitchen or charitable organization. Share your resources.

    In the church of the book of Acts, most were poor, but there was “not one needy among them (4:35)” as they gave to the poor on a regular basis (2:45).

2. Give the government its owed taxes, honor, respect and prayerful support.
Peter and Paul had plenty of general disagreements with the government. After all, the Roman empire was a haven for what Christians (rightfully, I’ll add) consider vice. Prostitution and infanticide were rampant, and many of the citizens either devoted themselves to a certain other religion or sought out a more intellectual form of atheist wisdom. All the while, the corrupt (and often mentally ill) emperors either idly stood by or even encouraged the imprisonment, torture and death of Christians in particular.

    Yet, Paul (from prison) and Peter both write to us, admonishing us to submit to the law, honor and respect governmental authority, and even pray for the emperor and all those in authority (and I don’t think they meant to pray for their impeachment or death). This is not so much because of the minute fistful of respectable aspects of their government, but because they believed God is sovereign, and that He had placed them in authority (Romans 13:1).

    The founders of the Church had no political stake, so their response (a very effective one, I should add) to the failures of the government and the decay of morality and justice was action, namely evangelism and charity, which served as a catalyst (both earthly and spiritual) for many. Sure, the Church did speak against the government’s ways (as the Manhattan Declaration points out), but it was not their voice that defined them, which brings me to the last point.

1. Do more than just voice your values. Live them. I remember my 8th grade history teacher trying to illustrate the concept of democracy. He compared the government to a computer, saying that our government’s functions and services, in theory, was only to be utilized at our will. Political leanings aside, I look at history and am an inspired believer in church empowerment. Simply put, the Church shouldn’t need government stake or assistance to do anything.

    I was once privileged to be a part of a mature church plant in the Philadelphia area. I worked at a coffeehouse to make some more cash and pitch proverbial tents. The church I served was creatively charitable during the holidays. They served Thanksgiving dinners to low-income families. They threw a Christmas Eve service at a homeless shelter. They regularly built for Habitat for Humanity. These were all much more intriguing to my co-workers than any lavish musical production that the larger churches were offering.

    Give financial support or volunteer at either a crisis pregnancy center or a child and family association. Help shelter and encourage a brave newly pregnant girl from judgment and difficulty. Consider adoption of an abandoned child. We could reiterate point 3 here, too.

    It’s one thing to voice truth and values. It’s another to selflessly live them. We can better be Christ’s voice when we’re also His Hands and Feet.

The Prosperous Gospel: Thoughts on More Biblical Aspirations

2011-06-24T10:01:00.001-04:00

I was fired, and I was desperate to get a new job. But this wasn’t the right place.

It was one of the most depressing summers I had gone through. I was a college student at a respected university, home for the summer, but I had ended the school year with a low (and I mean low) GPA in a school where there’s sometimes pressure to “excel for God.” A good colleague had just died from a cliff-hiking accident. I had gotten fired from my first summer job, and I was having a lot of heated arguments with my parents, who continually encouraged me to get a job, continually reading the classifieds and looking to take almost any job.

Including this one. I sat in a motel’s conference room with a very mixed group from all sorts of qualifications and income levels as we listened to a suave and witty man in a suit attempted to give motivational speeches about how your life could change if you join the team that sells air filters. Whenever someone from the class ever admitted any self-doubt to the task, the aforementioned sales trainer would then tell an inspirational “little-engine-that-could” story. The topper of these stories was about how a blind man used his salesmanship and diligence to climb the ladder of so-called success, best described by the opulence of his new house, which apparently featured motion-sensor water fountains along the front sidewalk. It was a flamboyant, almost kitsch-like, example of a textbook “rags-to-riches” story.

The first day and 8 hours of training left me with a jittering headache and a little bit of nausea as I drove my little brother to junior high youth group that night. I resigned from the job training the next day.

I’m not meaning to put salesman down (I worked as a telemarketer for 2 years), and I don’t want to discourage anyone’s perseverance in their career. It’s just that I can’t help notice the tendency of inspirational stories to lean toward financial blessing as the goal, and it’s spilled into churches‘ stories.

From the southeast coast to the northern California, I’ve heard some pretty cool stories about how churches grow from a a fistful of families in a Bible study into a resourced megachurch. Willow Creek, for example, is named after the movie theater its founders first rented to hold their church services in 1975. Now they are a multi-campus church (their home facility has about 24,000 weekly attendants) and an association with worldwide influence and resource. Harvest Bible Chapel went from 18 people meeting in a high school to nationwide church planting.

I’m not putting down these ministries. I have friends in the leadership of both of them and my wife and I have regularly attended their worship services in the past. My main question is to ask, when one reads a story like that, how do you define the “success”? Is it the financial stability or even overflow? Is it the attendance numbers? The recognition?

It shouldn’t be.

The pre-Constantine church in Rome had its members (not merely idle “attendants”) grow like wildfire. They didn’t have the money or political stake for a larger facility, so they delegated more leadership and found more houses volunteered to hold their gatherings. To the outside world, there were countless misconceptions floating around, as biblical teaching was being confused with Jewish sects, Gnosticism and even cannibalism. But to those who knew the church’s people, it was a community of loving, sharing and joy, a voice for the oppressed women, the unwanted unborn, the sick and the poor, and individuals willing to die for the Truth they proclaim. They had no opportunity to rely on political stake, an overflow of wealth or a respectable reputation. Nonetheless, lives where changed, and the family grew.

So, it wasn’t so much rags to riches, but to flourishing.

As a church in the West, we’re challenged to look beyond our culture’s views of success as defined by reputation, popularity and wealth to a different kind of prosperity. God loves small beginnings (Job 8:7, Zechariah 4:10) but looks for a different type of ending. In the Christian’s mind, King David should not be remembered for his wealth (Solomon was richer, but considered it meaningless) or his military aggression (Saul was arguably more violent, but he disregarded God), but instead for his heart: a heart that sincerely followed after God and His will.

As we daily review our checkbooks, let’s continue to keep’s God’s will at heart, and see what He can make flourish.

Where I Stand: If Minnesota Doesn’t Want the Vikings, They Shouldn’t Have Them.

2011-06-23T12:16:00.001-04:00

Yes, I am a Minnesota Vikings fan, generational and nomadic, with no roots in the state of Minnesota. And yes, it’s been a rough year. More than my rival team fans can actually imagine.

I moved my family to eastern Wisconsin, home of the Vikings’ embittered rival Packers, during the debacle that was the 2010 season. The season that started off with Super Bowl aspirations, but ended with ten humiliating defeats, a scandalized quarterback, a fired coach and a collapsed stadium. Oh, and the Packers won the Super Bowl. Their fans, whom I live around, still have happy circle dances around me. My life is daily and lonely martyrdom.

On top of that, there’s still the chance that the Vikings won’t make any headway through Minnesota’s government to build a new stadium in the metropolitan area, potentially leaving their 30-year-old shack for the shiny new stadium . . . in Los Angeles.

So yeah, it’s been a rough year.

What’s happening with the stadium? It’s complicated and embarrassing. The Vikings, as their vice president would confirm, have done everything the state has asked for approval, and things have largely been looking good for a new stadium to be built in the nearby suburb of Arden Hills. However, opposition has risen, both from Viking haters and fans alike. Haters don’t realize the cost of losing a profitable NFL team. Some Viking fans don’t want to pay the cost (a small tax increase?) of keeping them. This opposition (even though some of it wants the Vikings in Minnesota) could certainly hinder the stadium bill.

My thoughts? If Minnesota doesn’t want the Vikings, then they shouldn’t have them.

My late father found the Vikings during his grade school years in Duluth. He carried his fan-hood to eastern Tennessee, to Chicago, and then to Dallas before he passed it to me. I, then, carried it back to Chicago, then to Iowa, Philadelphia and now, Wisconsin. Only on occasion have I been able to visit the Vikings’ home state and attend their games. Though I’m a proud part-Scandinavian, I’ve always liked Minnesota because of the Vikings, not the other way around. This does set me apart from Viking fans who, upon the team’s departure from the state, would sell their memorabilia on eBay.

So, if the Vikings are no longer in Minnesota, where does that put me? It’s a good question.

I have many Packer friends who are hermit-Wisconsinites, and they, trying to convert me (as they have succeeded with other newcomers), have asked what it would take for me to become a Packer fan. I replied, “If the Vikings and the Chicago Bears ceased to exist, then maybe I’ll consider.” (Some close friend Bear fans rather suggested I become a Detroit Lions fan first). I do also have friends from the east coast who are Indianapolis Colts fans, following the Colts since they left Baltimore, surprisingly not cheering for the Ravens. And I don't even want to scratch the surface of loyalty issues in Ohio.

So, which route should I take? If the Vikings become Los Angeles’s team and keep their name (how much Scandinavian heritage is in southern California?), should I follow? Should I wait for the state of Minnesota to realize their error and build another football team in a few decades (like they did with other teams)? Or should I consider the Vikings and my generational fan-hood a retired cause and honor the rest of my Chicago roots, becoming a full-blooded Bear fan?

Time will tell, but I’d rather not consider any of those options.

Counting the Cost: Life, Death, and the Cross to Bear

2011-05-27T16:02:00.001-04:00

I’ll admit it. I still have a tendency, in my mind, not to truly count costs. My wife will sometimes point out that I’m a bit optimistic about how much we will have to pay for something (e.g. a trip, a new appliance, etc.). But I’m also working on my ability to count the cost of what my Christian (literally “little-Christ”) life entails, and what it will entail in the future.

I’ve been very sadly reminded of this thought because there are a lot of heavy hearts both in my church and my family right now, as (I’m sticking with the analogy) we’re looking at many very big bills. With teary eyes, we’re looking at a lot of loss in the near future. These circumstances have led my wayward self back to seeking God’s Truth for hope and comfort. Like an icy hot balm on a bad burn, my journey has been both assuring and challenging.

There’s two things I’m striving to remember.

1) Death is an enemy that God will, quite passionately, defeat (Ezekiel 18:32, 1 Corinthians 15:26).

John 11 tells us the story of Lazarus’s resurrection. It’s an interesting chapter as it contains, in most versions, the shortest verse in the Bible (v.35, “Jesus wept”). This has caused the occasional question as to why Jesus is weeping. Was it sad disappointment in a lack of faith by Lazarus’s family members? Was it mere shared grief, even though Jesus planned to soon raise Lazarus from the dead? Most versions don’t quite give justice to verses 33 and 38, which help us understand why Jesus was weeping.

Keep in mind that funerals of the Ancient Near East are far from the quieter and “professional” ceremonies we have here in the modern West, where you can barely hear more than a sniffle. If the immediate family makes it through a ceremony without crying, some may say that they are “taking it well.” It was quite the opposite for Lazarus’s burial. They don’t hold back. Loud mourning and wailing is accepted, even encouraged. Sometimes there are even hired mourners, I imagine, to lead people in mourning as would someone in a corporate worship experience.

According to the original Greek of verses 33 and 38, Jesus was not merely “deeply moved.” He was outraged. So, Jesus’s aura at the burial was a combination of rage and weeping. Why?

Because death is not what he wants for his children.

Death, as Jesus could painfully and angrily see, was reigning with explicit gloom and despair all around that burial site. And Jesus conquered it.

Death is one thing that only God can conquer, and he has more reasons and authority to do so than anyone. I sometimes forget this. I complain to God about a certain person’s passing or loss, feeling as if it was wrongful or ill-timed, appealing to God as if he doesn’t quite understand the significance of a certain factor or issue, or as if he doesn’t quite have the full perspective (or at least my perspective) as he lets tragic things happen in this world. What? Am I crazy? I can easily hear him say, “You think I don’t know?”

Another significant verse in John 11 is verse 25, where Jesus gently tells a grieving Martha, “I am the resurrection and the life.” God is life, eternal, and that’s what he wants for all his children, and he has conquered death. As much as there’s been talk in recent theological and church circles about how the “full life” Jesus brought begins on earth, we need to remember that all the sufferings (and all the righteous pleasures) of this planet can’t compare to the eternal afterlife God wants to lovingly give his children, which brought me to the next point.

2) This world is not meant for us, so our lives will involve sacrifice and suffering (John 15:19, Romans 8:17).

I recently sat in on a conference where Phil Vischer, the creator of VeggieTales, made a point about the inherent suffering of the Christian life, exploring the true meaning of the cliche “taking up one’s cross,” a phrase found in three of the four Gospels.

“If you’re a 21st century Illinoisan, you respond, ‘Okay, I’ve got my cross. Where are we going?’ If you’re a 1st century Palestinian, you know exactly where you’re going. You’re going to die.”

The world hates Christians, and we’re also in the crosshairs of the demons who, as with Job, seek to sadistically disprove God in your mind and disprove you, by whatever means necessary.

Our very Savior was a commoner who was framed and brutally executed. The founding fathers of our Church spread Truth and love like wildfire, in spite of the vicious Roman government, and many were painfully killed. During the Black Death, many Christians risked their own lives to treat or transport the sick. Many heroes of the Reformation lived in hiding and in poverty and were burned at the stake, all the while fighting church corruption and standing for Truth. The number of converts to Christianity in China only grew faster than the number of executions Mao arranged. Today, as always, Christian missionaries, even their infant children, are killed on the mission field. Brave souls in the Middle East accept Christ into their hearts, knowing full well that, because of that exact decision, they will be disowned by their family, and then hunted and killed.

Needless to say, it’s not always “your best life now,” as Joel Osteen would say.

So, have I counted the cost?

Maybe I’m being naive in my optimism. Sure, I’d love it if all my remaining relatives lived what I would deem as long, full lives. I’d love it if I didn’t have to bury my wife or children, and if my daughters never broke my heart. That I’d die painlessly after a full-life of righteous blessing and productivity in God’s name.

But the Bible has never promised me any of that. How many people do I know that have had the life described above? When I wish and hope like that, I might be getting too attached, strangely, to the world.

Friends, for the sake of our own health, the work of the Church, and the glory of God, we need to surrender and trust to His will, wisdom, and love. He has overcome death, and he can help us to do the same. Death is menial compared to the life and glory God has prepared for his loved ones.

And I’ll be the first to tell you that I struggle to grapple with these truths.

Keeping in Touch, Keeping it Real

2011-05-13T12:42:00.000-04:00

(Due to blogger.com's having technical difficulties, the previous entry "Death of the Consumer Church, pt. 3: A Better Apparatus" was deleted, but it will be re-posted next week.)

Imagine you’re betrothed (or remember your betrothal). Unfortunately, you live a good day’s trip away, and you and your future spouse are both quite busy in your respect lives. Because of this, you have little time together, and the time you spend together is mostly, if not completely, spent on the overwhelming plethora of wedding plans: recruiting for the head table, choosing flowers, china sets, honeymoon fares, etc.

    After what seems like a very long engagement, it’s finally a week away from the big ceremony. Your spouse, however, seems to be getting cold feet. After all, it’s been months since you’ve had a conversation with him/her that didn’t mostly involve apartment-hunting, building your registry or updating the guest list. You haven’t been able to talk about what’s been happening elsewhere in your busy lives, much less go on a date. You now feel disconnected and distant, emotionally . . . and you’re about to spend the rest of your lives together.

    “But, I don’t understand,” you might protest. “I lovingly spent so much time, energy and money into preparing us the perfect ceremony.” Doesn’t seem to matter.

    Sadly, it’s sometimes the same way with one’s relationship with God. We, as the Church, are the bride, preparing fervently for the Marriage of the Lamb. Let’s not forget to keep in touch and keep close with the bridegroom Christ. We spend all our time studying God’s words, trying to keep all His commandments, and serving Him in all ways possible. These are all good things, but a relationship consists of more than these.

    Pastors and leaders also struggle with this, becoming like the Martha of the Bible, and I include myself in this struggle. My relationship with God, in my life, has dealt with temptations to be academic or work-related, sometimes to the point where I don’t talk to God while I’m on vacation. I, too, need to rest and pray more to keep in touch with God.

    It’s downright humiliating how simple prayer is, and how available God is. Whenever I’m feeling a bit disturbed or depressed, how long is it before I say, “You know, I haven’t talked to God about this”? How arrogant and foolish I am to only resort to prayer as a foxhole, when I finally think that my problems and obligations can‘t be handled alone by my capable and arrogant self.

    God has overcome. He’s stronger, and He cares. Talk to Him. He’d love to.

Death of the Consumer Church, pt. 3: A Better Apparatus

2011-05-11T16:58:00.000-04:00

It was a very exciting time for a Associate Pastor of Adult Ministries. He had been launching evangelistic programs and services for years, all of which failed to gain momentum, but this one seemed to have unprecedented potential. He had a good team of energetic seminary students that shared his vision, and everyone would work to produce a Saturday-night service geared toward young families. It quickly evolved into, in essence, a church plant that met within its own mother church’s facility.

Among the seminary students, the main teaching pastor was an eloquent speaker and aspiring shepherd. The worship pastor was experienced, passionate, and also a technological genius. I was their service producer.

It was my chance. Having just graduated from a Conservatory of Music, and enjoying how my seminary studies were informing my creativity, I brought a wagonload of ideas for what new and exciting elements could contribute to a truly worshipful and God-glorifying experience, and it was thrilling to see some of my visions come to fruition.

This young church plant, however, for lack of attendance, was put to rest after less than two years.

Why? The explanation is complex, but not unreasonable: miscommunication, leadership turnover, and the financial struggles of the mother church. It’s not as if my creative ideas were unappreciated . . . by the few people that attended the services. But I did learn an important lesson with the sinking of that ship:

“Attractive services” have their limits.

That is to say, that services that build themselves to attract “seekers” purely by gaudy production and sometimes theological and ecclesiological compromise are largely failing in their strive, as particularly evidenced by my experience. Originally, when I typed that last sentence, I really wanted to downright say that “attractive services” don’t work. But I can’t speak for everyone.

I don’t say this to be insensitive. It was a tough lesson for me, too, because this was pertaining to the very job description of my own seeming future. Our church, however, was ten minutes away from a famous venue that hosted people like Tony Bennett, Jennifer Hudson and Yo-yo Ma. A composer-in-residence that owned his own recording studio attended the mother church. What would I have to offer for programming in a church service that would “attract” someone in such a pre-dominantly secular and elitist community?

Let me say it again: “attractive services” have their limits.

What seemed the best apparatus for growing a healthy church (and what we largely didn’t have) was the excited congregation member. We needed people that saw our little runt of a church, despite its flaws, as a God-blessed family. We needed people that believed in our church family’s potential to touch our hurting towns and change lives so much that they invited all their friends to be a part of this church family. These “seekers” would be impressed, not so much by the attempted pizazz of the service production or the seeming relevance of the sermon, but more so by the loving and giving lifestyle and of the obviously-close community that is the church family, operating both in and out of the building where they meet once a week.

This is the mark of a disciple, and it’s what we can offer amid far more impressive concerts and productions. It’s, unfortunately, what the consumer church has lost. The stereotypical consumer church looks to attract into the doors with impersonal means, offering sometimes unreasonable amenities. Attendants of a consumer church can take a drive-thru and comment-card approach, having no independent desire to volunteer or serve. After all, that’s what the pastors are for, right?

When Simon Peter wrote to Christians, calling them a “holy priesthood,” he wasn’t just referring to the leaders.

This, to me, is the most burdensome effect of the consumer church: the pastors are left to do the work that should also be done by congregation members (e.g. evangelism, discipleship, hospitality, community-building and other forms of service and leadership).

The consumer church has made the church (and everything it stands for) into a product that we need to sell in order to raise our numbers. The New Testament has a much different vision of how the church family is to healthfully exist, grow and reach. It involves more sacrifice and grace, but its rewards far outweigh what . . . really shouldn’t be considered “costs” at all.

Thursday of Holy Week – The Passover; Mark 14:12-26

2011-04-21T13:43:00.001-04:00

Below is the fifth of a series of Holy Week daily devotionals written by a member of our church:

Making a covenant represented an unqualified, total commitment of one person to another – unconditionally, totally, eternally. At the last supper Jesus explained that he was initiating a new covenant in his own blood. He became the true Passover lamb. All sacrificial lambs had to be absolutely free of defects, as a symbol of the one who would come to truly pay for sin. Christ, who lived a sinless life, willingly allowed his body to be broken and his blood to be shed as a substitution for us. Take time today to thank the Lord for initiating the covenant with mankind, and then fulfilling it in His blood. Throughout the day, contemplate Christ as the spotless lamb.

Wednesday of Holy Week – The Alabaster Jar; Mark 14:1-9

2011-04-20T12:30:00.002-04:00

Below is the fourth of a series of Holy Week daily devotionals written by a member of our church:

This woman displayed her love for Jesus lavishly and expressively. She poured the perfume on him as a symbol of her deep devotion and love for Him. Today let us consider how we can pour out our love and devotion to our Lord. Spend time meditating on how much He loves you and perhaps express to God how you love him in a demonstrable way, possibly writing it down in a letter or singing a song. In your own unique and personal way pour your love on Him.

Tuesday of Holy Week – The Greatest Commandment and the Widow's Mite; Mark 12:28-31, 41-44

2011-04-19T13:43:00.002-04:00

Below is the third of a series of Holy Week daily devotionals written by a member of our church:

The most important commandment involves loving God with everything. This passage begs the questions: Do I love the Lord with all my mind? All my Heart? All my soul? All my strength? What does this look like? It looks much like the widow in the second passage who loved the Lord so much that she “gave all she had” and was commended by Jesus because she did not give out of her wealth, that is, just a part of what she had, but out of her poverty, everything she had. Commit today to love the Lord with all that you are.

Monday of Holy Week– Clearing of the temple – Mark 11:15-19

2011-04-18T16:00:00.000-04:00

Below is the second of a series of Holy Week daily devotionals written by a member of our church:

The house of God, the temple had strayed from its original purpose. The people had allowed many practices and things inside the temple that shifted their focus from The Lord. Just as Jesus cleared the temple we need to clear our hearts of the things that take the place of trusting in God – the habits and rituals that fill our life and remove our full attention on Christ. Let us ask God to reveal to us the things in life that shift our focus, and then with God’s help, let us drive them out and give the Lord our full attention.

Modern Palm Sunday, In the News

2011-04-16T22:55:00.000-04:00

Nashville, TN (AP) -- I-65 will never be the same. The serene and scenic highway that runs south from near Chicago’s congested web to the southern tip of Alabama is soon to host a social celebrity’s grand entrance into Nashville, and many don’t simply know what to make of the whole phenomenon. The “celebrity’s” name is Josh Daub. He is a Christian, what we might call a “conservative evangelical.”

Originally from the very small town of Hiawatha, IA, he had come very quickly to national attention. Not only was he a riveting preacher on tour who walked the walk, he was proactive in whatever community he stumbled upon. Reports and investigations have shown that, when Mr. Daub visits a town, he usually gives a few sermons and does some counseling, but more unexpectedly, he rallies and leads his new congregations to action. Even after he leaves, his congregants remain committed visitor-volunteers to homeless shelters, child and family associations, crisis pregnancy centers, tutoring schools and prisons. One police officer from Kansas City reported that four ex-cons now attend his church. A teacher from the South Side of Chicago claims that she’s started to get calls and wealthy donations for a new school to be built, saying they were encouraged to do so by Mr. Daub.

If you visited any village where Mr. Daub had just been, you would sense positive change. As the rest of the media has followed his movements (double-entendre fully intended) for the past three years, they’ve found that the towns he’s visited, because of the hope and inspiration he’s given the citizens, have stabilizing economies. Statistics of poverty, illiteracy and crime have gone down, and the immeasurable auras of morale and community have gone up.

But little is known about Mr. Daub before he was spotted on the media’s radar. He has no formal education in theology, public speaking, engineering, economics, culture or social work. Those outspoken and well-versed thereof (especially in theology) have challenged him and his works to frequent debate, but to no avail. His positive influence and large appreciation seem to speak for themselves. All the while, he seems to know how exactly to best give what he calls “new life” to whoever he sees, both on earth and what he believes to be eternal life, through the Gospel message of Jesus Christ. Understandably, church attendance has also gone up.

Here north and outside of Nashville, a large group of people, numbering about 108,000, are waiting alongside I-65 for him to arrive in his humble ’89 Civic. This group from across the nation includes everyone from homeless people, telemarketers, a few CEO’s, pastors, and construction workers. They’ve actually covered the road with tarp and some of their own clothes. They’ve brought homemade welcome signs and seem very unified in their anticipation, as if they were all from the same town, one that Daub visited.

Nashville was once arguably the Christian capital of the nation. Now known for country music, it has lost much relevance in the cultural and political evolution in the country. It is now in Washington’s spotlight.

What will the rest of the country make of this event? Some believe that Mr. Daub, while his social work and charity has done undeniable good for portions of the nation, is only another conservative evangelical, spouting intellectual nonsense and, like some Christians, hoping for a restoration of Christian-inspired government that he supposedly misses. Others believe, though that he is of a line of innovative ministers of God’s Word that actually can and do “change the world,” and in a good way.

However Nashville and the country respond to Mr. Daub and his message over the next week will reveal much about us, and maybe humanity as a whole.

Happy Anticipated Birthday to My Car; How God Guides Me

2011-04-12T22:17:00.003-04:00

(Just a disclaimer. If I was to presume stereotype, then almost no humans of the female persuasion would enjoy this next article. Consider that a warning.)

I really treasure my car. It’s been my faithful steed through more miles and circumstances than its predecessor. The reason I’m posting about this is because my ’02 Camry (“Misty,” as I once named it . . . her) is approaching the mile count where she will have had more miles with my at the steering wheel than her previous owner. She will be, more technically, mine.

March 2007. I was a betrothed, first-year seminary student in the north ‘burbs of Chicago, living with two college friends. At the time, my ’91 Camry (“Bluebell”), which had served me well in high school and college, was starting to really show its age. I couldn’t rely on it for big trips, and I knew that even more travel was imminent in the next few years. Bluebell retired and I sold her to an employee at my grad school for $200. Before she retired from my service, though, she passed the torch.

I found Misty, of all places, on the tacky and sometimes shady online classifieds known as Craig’s List. She was for sale from a man in a fairly close-by suburb and evidently had had a very healthy upbringing.

I actually bought my new car while my fiancee was on her college spring break, and it was already my job to pick her up from the airport. I decided to pull out my choir tux, put on think black gloves and pretend to be a limo driver, holding up a paper sign with “Christina Gilliland” (not her name yet) scribbled in Sharpie while she came down the escalator at the airport.

Little did I know how far my car would go at the time, having to tag along for all the unexpected turns our married life took.

The image above is a rough map of where my car (not me, just my car) has been since I’ve been driving it. (I was unable to include an anniversary trip to Lake Geneva and our attendance of a wedding of some grad school friends in Oshkosh). Each squiggle has a story (some are boring), whether it’s a road trip, a move, etc.

There is a certain degree where looking at that map, for me, is looking into my past and my journeys. There were many surprises, some good, some bad, but God worked them all out. I pray to continue to look upon further journeys with that attitude. Sometimes it's helpful to look at different types of maps.

400 Years (or hours?) of (blogging) Silence

2011-03-27T22:55:00.000-04:00

Dear treasured readers (both of you!),

I'm sorry for the time of no new blog entries. Understandably, Lent is a very busy time for any pastor that oversees music in the church. If you live in our area and would like to learn more about what's going on at our church, please feel free to check out the Facebook Fan Page to the lower right of this entry, or click on "Sheboygan eFree" link above.

Lack of blogging does not mean a lack of thinking. I do hope to post more often in the future, with some less verbose posts, and this will certainly my one Google subscriber (hi, wifey!) happy.

In the meantime, rest assured that I am not suffering some bad case of writers block or going through some quandary of the purpose of blogging, going on a leave of absence from this blog, perhaps never to return.

I'm just busy, and, strangely enough, blogging (though sometimes strenuous) is something I miss doing.

Hopefully you'll hear from me soon.

-James

Death of the Consumer Church, pt. 2: Creating an Epidemic of Grace

2011-03-04T00:06:00.000-05:00

“Whatever happened to porches?” my friend said.

I was a leader in a church plant in an East Coast community with very urbanized and congested housing, and our particular geographical mission field struggles with poverty and crime. My friend was the church treasurer and longtime resident of the general area. And he was on to something.

“You see, with porches, you get to know your neighbors. The entire street becomes a close community, and you have the opportunity to share Christ. Nowadays, people just go in and out of their houses with barely anything to say. Whatever happened to porches?”

I understood what he meant. My middle and high school years were lived in a serene Iowa subdivision where porches were a dying breed. It seemed that the only neighbors of ours to bravely step outside their haven of privacy were parents to watch their kids play, and they became good friends with my family. Otherwise, my own street somewhat had a ghost-town feel. Waiting for the school bus or taking walks, I sometimes had to remind myself and have faith (without any evidence) that many of these houses did have people living in them.

It’s somewhat depressing that so little connection and community had taken place with so many houses. In the six years I lived there with my family, we barely knew that one of my school bus classmates had a mother who was struggling with alcoholism. Or that another home on our street was suffering a nasty divorce. What else might have happened? It was hard to tell, because you could only know so much about some of our neighbors when you can only see what cars are parked outside the opaque garage, what decorations, etc. are outside the shuttered windows, what yard (or realty) signs are displayed, and what they use to mow their lawns.

One of the available amenities of the American Dream is privatization. Some people brag about their neighborhood’s firm security, even with gates. At the thought of the presence of a generous fruit basket at their doorway (as a neighborly gift), these people would say, “How could I take unpackaged and unmarked food from a stranger?” Shows what’s happened to neighborhood community.

For me, it was a bit of a surprising contrast to one of my years of newlywed/grad-school life, when my wife and I rented in a lower-income apartment complex by an expressway in the northwest ‘burbs of Chicago, where balconies are stacked and aligned closer to each other than even the best porches. We knew would have had to be complete anti-social enigmas to not at least befriend our neighbors in such a context. The couple above us struggled with communication in their marriage. We once babysat the daughter of the couple below us while they took their other child to the emergency room. We offered and gave food, toiletries, and even money to other neighbors when they needed it.

The question that keeps coming to my mind is: what would living near a Christian be like? What would they know about you, other than that you’re off to church for a few hours on a Sunday morning? How would they have the impression that you follow a God whose Greatest Commandment includes the charge to “love your neighbor as yourself”?

It feels a bit awkward to leave those questions unanswered. The basic truth is that Christians believe in life and joy, and ought to share it with their hurting neighborhood that needs it, sometimes badly, most times silently. From a Saran-wrapped plate of cookies to hosting a family while their house gets blasted with pesticides, you’d be amazed what can happen with an epidemic of grace.

I try to imagine in my neighbor’s mind, completing the following sentence:

“My neighbors are Christians, therefore . . .”

-they will dress up and rush off for a few hours every Sunday morning
-they will never give a complete sentence to a salesman or door-to-door Mormon
-they will help shovel the snow off others‘ driveways and bring them food when they’re ill
-they will notice and help nab vandals of my property in my absence
-they’re always give kind words and generous tips to the pizza delivery boys
-they’ll have the most morale and spirit at our otherwise-dreary block party

Fill in your own blank, but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and questioning myself as to how biblical living might have to part ways with the American dream, how we can live selflessly, and, with Christ’s help, bring life to the full.

Bud Grant, Sandals and Car Keys

2011-02-21T21:21:00.000-05:00

I will almost never post about what my daily life is like, but this story bears repeating.

To out-of-state readers, a snowstorm made a sweep over the northern majority of Wisconsin. It dropped about ten inches of snow in about ten hours and canceled my church’s evening service. Nothing shocking. As soon as I found out we were snowed in, warm and cozy, I changed into comfortable (but certainly non-seasonal) khaki shorts and my Donkey Kong t-shirt.

That evening, despite the plows not being able to quite keep up with the blustery thick snow, Christina still wanted to visit our good friend, Kim, across the unlit backroads on the outskirts of town. She felt safer if I would drive her, since I had learned to drive in the frozen tundra of Iowa. Christina’s mother was staying with us, so she could watch our girls while I dropped off Christina at Kim’s.

This is where the story starts to get more interesting.

Most fans would agree that the best head coach to ever grace Minnesota Vikings football was Bud Grant. He was known for the “Purple People-Eaters” who dominated offensive lines, but he was also known to wear a short-sleeved polo during games at the Vikings’ roofless Metropolitan Stadium. Year-round.

(By the way, my older daughter started singing the Vikings fight song a few days ago. I’m so proud!)

So . . . yeah. I wanted to be a tough temperature-resistant northerner like Bud Grant. I wanted to be adventurous. I drove Christina to Kim’s house in the blizzard only wearing shorts, a t-shirt and sandals.

We pulled up to Kim’s house. I locked the car and left the emergency flashers on. Her driveway was yet to be shoveled, so that made for a painful time for my feet as I walked (scrambled, actually) Christina up to the front door. One of my sandals actually came off my bare foot and I had to fetch it.

After I spent a few minutes in Kim’s house with her and Christina (letting my feet warm up), I felt in my pocket that my car keys were missing. Not good. They must have fallen out of my pocket during the scramble to the door and were somewhere in the foot of snow in the front yard.

What could I do? Christina had left her car keys at home. We couldn’t ask Christina’s mom to come and pick me up, because she’d have to pack the sleepy girls and drive through an unfamiliar area during a blizzard. With shorts, a t-shirt and sandals on, I was in no shape to look for the keys in the snow. It looked like I was going to borrow Kim’s car and copy all my keys. I wasn’t going to be able to see my keys again until the snow melted a few months later.

No, fortunately, Kim lent me one of Marc’s coats and a pair of his boots, and I did find my keys close to one of the footprints I left. Otherwise, this blizzard would have been a lot more adventurous than I had wanted.

Two Books on Worship Arts that Came to Mind

2011-02-20T21:24:00.000-05:00

I never thought I was the type of person to do this.

Nonetheless, it’s a frequent question, both in a prospective pastor’s interview and even on a church website’s “get-to-know-the-pastor” profile. Books. Favorites? Recently read? Most inspirational or recommended?

I mostly have dodged such questions because I want to avoid a simple label, when my views on certain things (theological non-essentials, philosophy, worship and the arts) are a bit more complex in their development. However, the alternative to being “labeled” is being a mysterious question mark.

So, as best as I can, I’ll try to answer the question.

As I envision and program, transferring my learnings of Scripture into church service production, influential words from the following books still come to mind every week.

How to Read the Bible as Literature by Leland Ryken.

This book was required reading for an Old Testament survey class in my undergrad, and it’s actually one of the books that helped piqued my music-major-brain’s interest in biblical studies. I’d recommend it to any Christian (and even curious non-Christians), not because it helps you “get the most out of reading the Bible,” but that it helps you to realize what the Bible truly is: a bottomless well of poetic Truth, love and wisdom, beautifully and masterfully handcrafted by the most creative Creator God.

Through exegesis and explanation of literary devices such as genre and poetry forms, Ryken did well to inspire me toward a deeper appreciation, understanding and even love for the Scriptures, also clearing up the confusion of some misconceptions about certain verses and themes that Christians and non-Christians today hold even today.

Music Through the Eyes of Faith by Harold Best

This book, believe it or not, was something I read on my own time (for those who know me well, that’s a rare thing). But I was inspired to read it after having met Harold Best, a seeming creative genius whose tenure as Dean at Wheaton College’s Conservatory of Music was more than fruitful for the institution.

Out of all the works on worship I’ve experienced (e.g. Robert Webber, Tim Keller and even arts philosophers like Gadamer and Kant), Best’s writing best links worship to creativity and creation, answering questions that linger in my heart and in those of other artistically-driven people I want to reach. I’ll never forget his phrase, as he wants to dance and worship to “a Pentecost of musics.” Best’s work celebrates Truth and creativity, and brings one’s appreciation of the Creative God to another level.

These are just books that come to mind as described above. When it comes to other areas of theology, philosophy and church practice, other books come to mind. But that's another post . . . maybe.

St. Valentine and the Institution of Marriage

2011-02-11T16:24:00.000-05:00

“If you love her so much, why don’t you marry her?”

Such was the teasing phrase I frequently heard as a child, with that joking, sarcastic, nasal tone. What’s funny is that the frequency of this phrase’s use dropped dramatically once my peers and I approached puberty and actually started to better enjoy the company members of the opposite gender. Before that time this phrase mostly referred to toys, sports teams, video games, and other things that a kid like me might “love” but can’t ever marry. The thought of a child one day walking down the aisle with, for example, a Power Wheels car was a humorous image to share with many.

I have to give this phrase some credit, though, at least. Marriage is seen as the logical follow-up to falling in love. Not anything else.

It’s sad how separate the two ideas seem sometimes today.

Valentine’s Day can add itself to a list of holidays whose original event has been watered down by tradition and commerce. The history of the holiday is a mess to figure out how we went from Christian martyrdoms in Rome to Brach’s and roses, where Cupid flew in, etc. We didn’t really start passing out cards until the past century or so. I just find it fascinating that Valentine’s Day (Valentine is a common name for Christian martyrs in ancient Rome) is named for a martyr whose crime against Rome was marrying Christians (as aiding Christians was illegal).

In an ancient Vegas, Christians were hunted and sent to dangerous animals. Despite the corrupt and vicious government, they insisted on declaring their love for each other, before the eyes of God, with a covenant. A commitment. An investment. A risk. A sacrifice. A giving. Christians certainly believed in the sanctity and institution of marriage, and lived it, even if only quietly and illegally. If loving marriage was wrong, baby, they didn’t want to be right.

Times certainly have changed.

As we celebrate Valentine’s Day, let’s think about how we can honor the sanctity of marriage, husband to wife and wife to husband, living it from the inside out.

Three Reasons I (as a Vikings Fan) am Happy That the Packers Won the Super Bowl

2011-02-07T16:24:00.000-05:00

I’ve sometimes been told that I’m too cynical, that I need to loosen up and count the blessings in my life and make the most of everything. I thought I’d start with the fact that the Vikings’ worst enemy team, the Green Bay Packers, with effort and circumstance, won the Super Bowl this year. And I have the fortune to live an hour from Green Bay.

1) Emotional closure: Let’s face it. It was still about Favre. Once the face of the franchise, who helped develop the team into a regular playoff contender after a quarter century of mediocrity, he has possibly tarnished his legacy in the eyes of this generation by his three years spent playing for other teams. However, Packer fans have wanted to see him suffer further justice (vendetta?) for his crimes of loving to play football and being hopelessly indecisive.

Their relationship to Favre has been unnecessarily complicated. For example, they’d love to revel in the glory of their Super Bowl XXXI championship, but it was led by . . . Favre. They’ve wanted to move on, and the best way (along with seeing him fail) was to be able to revel in a glory without him.

The outcomes of the 2010 season and Super Bowl XLV achieved that. Aaron Rodgers has always been an exceptional quarterback, and Packer fandom largely ran to him in his first days as a starter like a recently-dumped girl runs to a new crush. Even though his stats, Hall-of-Fame eligibility, and overall legacy aren’t at Favre’s level yet (but they will get there someday), Pack fans have already elevated him above Favre, and even compared his beard with Jesus’s. Commentators seem to be developing a bias for him, too. Maybe he will be the next Brett Favre. (Who will be the next John Madden?).

All this to say, since the new Packers beat Favre (even though he was 41 years old with a breaking down body, throwing to a transient receiver corps and playing for a team going through a rough transition) and won the Super Bowl (even though it was a weakened AFC in an overall injury-ridden season of general mediocrity), they can feel better about themselves, and that’s good!

Favre is completely gone. The Packers have established themselves without him. The historic Bears-Packers rivalry has been restored and renewed. All these years of drama-queen-style embitterment and insecurity are over! Better that it happen sooner than later. Packer fans are much easier to live and work around now.

2) Wisconsin’s economy: I might have to get a little selfish here, but the truth is that, though I am a Vikings fan, I am a resident of Wisconsin and their economic well-being affects my everyday life.

Wisconsin has the largest debt per capita in the nation, when you calculate the ratio between the total debt and the population. They collect more than $1 billion in excise tax (mostly from smokers) and actually still owe the state of Minnesota $59 million. Thus to say, there’s a lot of work to be done.

However, the Packers‘ success has created more spending all across the country on gear (it’s spending to which I personally wouldn’t contribute), and it has helped the economic health of my state of residence. I can’t object to that.

3) Reconciliation with friend Bear fans: I’ll have to be honest when I say that the 2008-9 seasons were a bit of a rough patch in my relationship with Bears fans (and growing up in Chicago area, I have plenty). I do remember meeting the soon-to-be fiancee of a very close friend at a coffeeshop, and I had to let her know of my fandom right away, for the sake of their relationship.

The Vikings‘ dominance over the Bears and Packers the last two seasons did make friendships and relationships difficult as I lived as a Vikings fan in Chicago, but after this year, we can reconcile under the belief of a common enemy. What of reconciliation with friend Packer fans, you ask? It’s not an issue. They never seek it.

So . . . how’d I do?

Death of the Consumer Church, pt. 1: Diagnosing "Heart" Problems

2011-01-28T12:02:00.001-05:00

For many years as I studied the Bible and prepared to be in ministry, classmates and some cynical friends would tell me, “American Christians are a bunch of consumers.” A bit annoyed and discouraged, inwardly I would brush them off and deny the thought.

Then I took part in a deep study of Paul’s epistles and the early Church (pre-Constantine), and how to really (no, really) do church “by the book.” I felt I had been given a truly biblical vision and mission of the Church, and also an inspirational story of how God used it as His instrument in a historical story of countless people who came into God’s family. Then I looked at the current American Church, where I was studying to serve, and I couldn’t deny it anymore. Consumerism is an extreme problem in the American Church. It’s a growing cancer that will hinder the American Church to the point of disablement until it’s addressed.

Now, what is the consumer church? It’s more broad than some might think. When some hear the phrase, they think of:

1) Nit-picky Christians who peruse churches like shopping for a new car, trying to find the closest match to their self-tailored felt needs, which refer to anything and everything including specific theological non-essentials, programs, musical worship style and location.
2) The financial and moral corruption that comes from Christians being involved in commerce, the type of people that Jesus drove out of the temple.

These are just byproducts. Consumerism is not a matter of church programming. It’s a matter of the heart. Consumerism enters a church when attendants primarily go to “consume,” to receive, not to give, and when leaders of the church only further enable them.

Here, where everyone has the freedom to be the architect of their own destiny, businesses and even some politicians are successful in profit-making and campaigning when they cater to such worshipped individuality. Just how many advertisements use the word “you”? With the internet, cell phones, MP3 players and Kindles, it seems a growing portion of all purchasable products have become much more accessible, customizable, and privatized.

Including church.

If one had a late Saturday night, he/she can sleep in through the morning services and attend an evening service at another church to get the “spiritual fix.” Or one can stay at home and listen to a recording of favorite hymns or worship songs, and then catch the recording of a sermon online. A consumer also thoroughly enjoys the sometimes ridiculous amenities a church provides elsewhere (e.g. a fellow pastor received a recent complaint about the church’s videos not being in high definition). It’s sad how types of conveniences and extravagances climb our priority list.

Outside of materials and conveniences, the consumerism of our culture has spilled into relationships within the congregation. At even slight disturbances, will approach a church leader like the manager of a restaurant. People withdraw from circles of friendship, Bible studies, and even church communities themselves before the idea of reconciliation can cross their minds.

However, I personally feel that the biggest hindrance of consumerism upon the Church (and I’ll refer to this again later, using my personal journey) is carried by functional ministry itself. When the consumer comes only to “receive,” the very duties of the Church (i.e. teaching, hospitality, charity, fostering community, and even evangelism itself) are left to its leadership alone. This is not the way the Church was built to operate as laid out in the New Testament.

Now, it’s not the time to point a finger. The consumer Church is not a result of any particular flop by any controversial and assimilating type of ministry (e.g. Willow Creek’s “seeker” approach, Relevant magazine or the Emerging Church’s self-dubbed mission to the postmodern world). On the contrary, there is actually something to be said in favor of attempting to communicate the Gospel to culture. Sadly, within our country, consumerism has permeated, seemingly, congregations from every denomination and theology of culture. It’s arguably been a longtime problem for the Church in a land of freedom and prosperity.

I doubt, for example, it’s a threat for the growing Church in China, for example, where people mostly download Scripture off the web (smuggling hard-copy Bibles is illegal and risky) and they secretly meet in each other’s small apartments for worship, for fear of the government. I doubt, also, that consumerism and selfishness is a problem for the strong Church in Africa, where they worship, united, in huts and nameless buildings despite poverty, disease and some Muslim aggression.

The heart of the issue is that we live in a society with the elevated notion of self, the reluctance to commitment, the impersonal stinginess and the general materialism that all make the aura that is our consumer-driven world. This is a real threat, and it’s certainly not how the Church can flourish and bring life and light to itself and the dark and depressing world, as it was meant to do.

And I can only think of the word “flourish” when I think of what could happen if we start giving ourselves entirely and cheerfully to biblical living and to the Church. It’s an act of worship, where worship is not a weekly musical event, but a constant lifestyle.

Not for the sake of changing culture. But for the sake of changing lives.

Love for the Sacred Human Life

2011-01-19T15:05:00.000-05:00

    “So, you’re sure he’s the father?”
    “Uh, yes! He’s my husband,” my pregnant wife confirmed to the doctor, as he prepared to give her a shot. She was a bit annoyed and sad that such questions needed to be asked of all patients and that she had given an honest but, to them, a seeming minority answer.
    My wife and I had to face the sad reality that we were an unusual couple in the north suburban Chicago hospital. We were seemingly young to be having children, and we were having children while I was in grad school and washing windows for a living. My wife had a good job that she was leaving for the sake of the family, being always able to nurture our upcoming firstborn. We also surprised a few of the hospital staff with our decline to the pre-natal Downs Syndrome test, the information from which usually determines some couples to abort, which we would never do. We were, sadly, a seeming rare couple that was willing to put finances, goals, and other freedoms (some evil) on the altar for the sake of family. For the sake of sanctity of life.
    This certainly wasn’t the only way that my oldest’s birth portrayed to me the sanctity of life. There was also the magnificence. It’s amazing to think that she was once small enough to fit under my fingernail. Now she too big to even lay across my lap. I remember being in awe that, as soon as she was conceived, her genetic code was all in place, the details of which will only marginally unfold as we watch her grow. With the creativity beyond that of an artist and the precision beyond that of an architect, He knit each one of us together.
    Life is a miracle of God. It’s sad that it seems Christians are among the few to see it, and its irreplaceable beauty and value.
    Maybe it’s also because Christians better understand the alternative.
    The Bible is replete with stories where the essence of life is defended or even saved by a passionate God. God speaks in Ezekiel, saying that He “takes pleasure in the death of no one.” Jesus, who also declared that God is the “God of the living,” healed the sick and raised Lazarus from the dead, both outraged and weeping at witnessing the effects of death upon His children. The apostle Paul declares to those in Corinth that death is the “last enemy to be defeated.”
    Death is not what God ever wanted for His children. Life is.
    I recently stumbled upon a video on the internet entitled “99 Balloons.” It’s the story of a little baby named Eliot Hartman Mooney, a victim of Edwards Syndrome, born to a young Christian couple. Predicted not to survive even to birth, he continued to surpass expectations, receiving nothing but love, support and affection from his parents, their church friends and fellow patients in neonatal intensive care and their families. He lived ninety-nine days. At his funeral, the attendants released ninety-nine balloons. (Click here for the story).
    When I look at how I was taught the sanctity of human life, it wasn’t from first becoming a father. It wasn’t from the shouting by people that hold up signs outside abortion clinics. It wasn’t from inspirational stories of very fertile couples who (all the power to them) morally raise a large number of children. It was from watching my parents care for my mentally-handicapped little brother.
    And I’m reminded about the sanctity of human life from stories like Eliot Hartman Mooney. Any type of story that gets people to ask, “Why would a married couple, along with their friends, family and even their church, invest so much of their time, money and emotional energy into a child who would not live long to communicatively return their affection or make them proud with some adult-like accomplishment?”
    Because life is a sacred miracle.
    Believe in life. Pass it on.

Top Ten Signs you're an NFL addict.

2011-01-06T11:14:00.001-05:00

You might be an NFL addict if . .

10. You’re emotionally involved in each season’s storyline. Beyond your own team. And not just for the sake of fantasy football points.
9. All the people that came to the Super Bowl party that didn’t pay much attention to the season or just want to talk, eat and play games? You’d prefer they weren’t there.
8. The NFL is the only sport where you watch regular season games intensively (namely, not while doing the laundry). In all the other sports you watch (if any), you just read the papers or check the team websites until the playoffs start.
7. You really don’t care who’s going to be featured in the Super Bowl’s halftime show. It’s the time to refill on refreshments or switch parties.
6. You aren’t caught up in the drama and gossip of players’ off-the-field issues.
5. When you need to learn about a city’s culture, you first take a look at their NFL team’s fan base.
4. You wonder why other championship series need to drag on so long at seven games.
3. You talk about the NFL authorities and their decisions on regulation with the passion of Rush Limbaugh.
2. You celebrate the spring draft each year, hosting a party or going out to eat, as it’s a lone event in the long and boring off-season.
1. AFL? UFL? What are those?

I might come up with a few more. Feel free to add.

Christmas Letter 2010

2010-12-28T23:12:00.001-05:00

The family in River Park, October 2010

Hello, readers!
    As I (James) type this, I’m sitting comfortably on the couch on my weekly day off. The girls are napping and Christina is running a few errands. With some light rain and temps in the mid-40’s, it was very mild for a Wisconsin late-November, but the first snowfall made up for lost time, giving us 12 inches in three days, along with a big temperature drop and 50mph wind gusts.
    Time has seemingly flown a bit since our last letter, even though it was an atypical 18 months ago. I know I say this in each letter, but this year was even more adventurous, with more unexpected surprises. The good news is that we also have made successful strides toward a settled, normal life for our family. Hopefully, our next Christmas letter will be a lot more boring.
    When we last wrote you (June 2009), James had just graduated from seminary and was moving the family (Abby and pregnant Christina) to live with Christina’s parents in northern Delaware. Christina served as a substitute teacher while James transferred to a nearby Starbucks and continued his search for a church position. This search, while proactive, only resulted in second-round phone interviews and two visits (Virginia Beach and Denver).
    However, in November, Bill Heider, Christina’s former youth pastor and now senior pastor of local Crossroads Church, took interest in James’s qualifications and hired him as an intern. We were able to raise support (thank you to all who gave!) and even rent Mr. Heider’s mother’s nearby house (as she was on an extended vacation in Arizona). It was wonderful that we were able to house our growing family! We lived and hosted Thanksgiving, Christmas (’09) and church parties there while James worked three part-time jobs (Crossroads, Starbucks and TwoFish) and Christina regularly babysat. Though we were busy, we were able to have lots of fun family time and take advantage of our time on the East Coast (e.g. touring Boston and
Delaware beaches).
    On January 6, Kaylee Joy Gilliland was born in the same hospital as her mother, St. Francis in Wilmington, DE. After another overnight trip the hospital, Kaylee was born just 13 months after her older sister. She kept us up many nights, but her playful smile and energy is a blessing to our household.
    In March (’10), after James had updated his public resume and done some more networking, he was contacted by the Evangelical Free Church in Sheboygan, WI. After several phone interviews, James, Christina and 4-month-old Kaylee (who was cared for by visiting Grandma Gilliland) were flown from Philadelphia to Milwaukee as James was a candidate for the church’s new Pastor of Worship Arts. The Elders unanimously
voted to hire him the day we landed back in Philadelphia. For the past six months, we’ve lived in a quiet and peaceful historical-downtown outside the city known as Sheboygan Falls.
    James has been busy at work, overseeing the production of three different types of services each Sunday (traditional, contemporary and evening) as well as special events (concerts, fundraisers and dramas). He’s attended conferences in central Wisconsin and in Denver, and has done everything in church this year from hospital visits to dancing a polka as Martin Luther. James has also made some more initiative with going on creative dates with Christina or outings with Abby and Kaylee. He also is trying to make more time for video games. Don’t talk to him about any of his favorite teams of any sport, though. He’s a bit crabby about them this year.
   Christina did very well to tackle head-on the daunting double-duty of pastor’s wife and mother-of-two. Both in Delaware and in Wisconsin, she’s connected with other other mothers, and here in Sheboygan, she’s initiated a weekly “play-date” with other young moms that’s familiarized some with our church community. Christina, in addition to being a good homemaker, also has started her own piano/voice studio (visit the site at www.mrsgstudio.com)! On the side, she’s joined the prestigious Lakeshore Chorale and has already gotten two solos. She also likes to read, and has enjoyed a variety of literature this year, from devotionals on the Sabbath to Ted Dekker.
   Abby just turned two years old, and stands at the 91st percentile height and weight. She is very energetic and independent. She loves fruits and vegetables, still likes to read, quote the TV shows she watches to herself (mostly VeggieTales and Winnie the Pooh) and is starting to form her own sentences when she talks. Abby also seems to have a strong liking of music (we did not prompt her in any way, we promise you!) and will sing, dance, and/or react positively to most any type of music she hears. This next month, she’s signed up for her very first music class at the local recreation department.
   Kaylee is about to turn one year old. She is very playful and extroverted. She’s on the threshold of walking, having taken almost five consecutive steps frequently. Her desire for something has seemingly pushed her into learning a consonant (e.g. she taught her self “pah” for puffs and “ba-ba” for bottle). She has almost four teeth, but can serve herself those fruit/vegetable/grain puffs with the best of them. Kaylee is still a crawler, but she curiously climbs everywhere, including the stairwell. She’s not trying to sing yet, but she does wiggle in a rhythmic fashion when music starts playing.

   Other adventures of our family this year include a ferry trip across Lake Michigan, James playing a Christmas Eve service at a homeless shelter, our purchasing a minivan, Christina’s college house reunion in Malibu, lobster on Thanksgiving and a blizzard canceling church and almost stranding us our own house!
   We feel we’re finally on a road to getting settled and less adventurous. We do feel very much at home in Wisconsin, and back in the Midwest, only two hours from Wheaton, our alma mater. We do wish we could travel more, though, and see all of you! We’d love to hear from you. Hope you have had a blessed year from the Lord. Thanks for reading and a merry Christmas and a happy new year to you!

Grace and Peace,

James, Christina, Abby and Kaylee Gilliland

www.psalmistandcolumnist.blogspot.com
www.mommadaybyday.blogspot.com (Christina’s blog
has been reposted by EFCA Communications online!)

Gilly’s Christmas Playlist ’10 -- Track 3: “SMS (Shine)” - David Crowder*Band

2010-12-12T23:18:00.000-05:00

A Christ-less Christmas?

    I’m not, normally, someone to openly complain about how commercialism and the general goal of “non-religiosity” in the public square tend to downplay or even omit the true history of holidays. (Technically, even the word “holiday” should be in the crosshairs of, for example, the ACLU because it’s actually a compound word of “holy day,” which smacks of the pulpit). I’m in favor of “keeping Christ in Christmas,” not because of an argument about the Christian heritage of this nation, but because it seems, in my opinion, that the meaning behind holidays (even beyond “Christian ones”), that may have been influential and memorable, are now fading out of sight amid the blinding glow of commercialism’s politically-correct billboard.
    I think it’s because I’ve tried to imagine, this year, in my own mind, a Christmas without Christ.
    American Christmas traditions and commerce have done well, sadly, to achieve that. None of the “top 25” Christmas songs on the radio or billboards really mention Christ, and even in carols, some beautifully-written and densely-packed with crucial theology and “controversial” Truth, singers and listeners alike just let words like “Christmas” (literally, “Christ’s coming”) roll off their tongue without any thought, as they probably have been doing for years. To a strong degree, organizations that want non-religiosity in the public square can take a break. Christ’s name is in Christmas, but His presence isn’t in many hearts and minds.
    Still, myself, I find much difficulty getting into the “Christmas cheer” with a mindset where Christ is replaced by Santa, holly and sales. It’s hard to listen to the words of songs. It’s the most wonderful time of the year. Why? Cold weather can be miserable. Family reunions, if they’re pleasant, happen several times a year. I get more gifts on my birthday and can buy peppermint and eggnog year-round. Say ‘hello‘ to friends you know and everyone you meet. And ignore them until the next year?
    The American traditions of Christmas are getting more and more substantive, but it still seems like a shell of significance as compared to the event upon which it’s based.     The main way we can keep Christ in Christmas in our hearts is to understand what is biblical and what is tradition, because we all have such traditions. In and of themselves, they are not wrongful, but should they be placed above or against what is biblical, a red flag should be raised.
    I’ll go first.
    When I sing carols, what fills my mind? Is it the poetic wording of God’s gift of His Son to a hurting world, and my longing to be nearer to and imitating of such a wonderful God? Or am I thinking about how this song brings me back to my youth group’s caroling days, and how I got a Super Nintendo that year? Good times. Or am I thinking about how this particular arrangement and delivery could really use some more lower treble, and if they’ll go for the cool high note at the end? When I sit down to eat my Christmas dinner, will I approach the table as an opportunity to celebrate the family and blessings God has given me as He gave Christ, and how I can give as He gave? Or will I be secretly missing the taste of my grandmother’s delicious Swedish ham and meatballs?
    Even harmless traditions and distractions, when over-prized, can make a Christmas Christ-less in our hearts. Let’s try to avoid that this year.

“SMS (Shine)” by David Crowder*Band

    I’ve recently come to enjoy the work of David Crowder*Band. It’s rare for me to have any type of favorite, and I’ve just written about Hillsong United achieving that. DC*B (for short), this out-of-the-box electric rock band, is a comfortable number 2. They actually, in my opinion, outdo Hillsong United in general creativity, both in their musical style and lyric-writing, but the cost of this creativity is that their songs are less “sing-able” by congregations. Instrumentally, their songs are hard to execute for many worship teams. They also don’t quite have the stage presence of worship leadership as much as Hillsong United, and this leaves them on the fine line between functioning as a band that writes songs that congregations sing, or a band that writes songs that congregations listen to. In any case, they’re talented, and their work is irreplaceable.
    I was surprised to find out that, despite all their years in the field, their Christmas output was just one song, a rendition of “Feliz Navidad.” Until now. This song is not technically designated as a Christmas song, and the music video takes on a different theme, but the lyrics speak otherwise. The song “SMS (Shine)” features a “just-right” electric and balladic groove, with not quite enough tenderness to be a slow-dance song, but not quite enough oomph to be a nightclub beat. In the lyrics, David Crowder writes of his heart feeling overcome, and how he longs for “a sign, a hint” from God. Verse 2 and the bridge read:

“You sent a sign/the hint, oh whisper/human, divine/everyone is listening/death laid low/quiet in the night is stirring/all around the rush of angels/oh, the wonder of the greatest love has come”

    And the last chorus reads:

“Love has come, what joy to hear it/He has overcome, He has overcome”

Some fun observations from the Women’s Brunch:

2010-12-06T15:26:00.000-05:00

1) Humor columnist Dave Barry once recalled a family Thanksgiving dinner, where the kitchen was filled with the family’s women. All kitchen duties to prepare the big meal were delegated, and the cooks were diligently and intensely working in a eerily choreographed fashion. Dave Barry said he’d feel more comfortable walking into the control room of a nuclear submarine. After stopping by the kitchen to drop off my lunch while the Women’s Brunch meal was being so prepared, I know what he meant.

2) While working on Friday, the office bathroom was occupied, so I ventured over to the men’s room by the gym. It had been declared a second ladies’ room, but I was still allowed by one of the nearby ladies to go inside. This former men’s room was decorated a bit more and very fragrant, but the urinals were untouched. Later, I talked with some of the event coordinators, asking where I could go, should nature call while I’m providing jazzy ambience on the piano during the brunch. The women directed me to some abandoned bathrooms on the other end of the facility on the lower floor.

3) Did the women not know that the candy on some of the tables was not just for decoration? I knew, and maybe some of the bussers did, too. Delicious selection.

P.S. I spent some time conceiving (and I guess I’m not the first) a Men’s Brunch. Probably wouldn’t start until at least noon or 1pm. No servers necessary, as it’d be a generous buffet, filled with scrambled eggs with cheese, omelettes with peppers and onions (probably the entirety of the vegetable portion right there), brat sausages, chocolate covered waffles and strawberry cheesecake (for fruit nutrition). There would be no need for people to wait for equal shares before anyone got seconds. Tables would be decorated last minute with car parts and empty soda cans, and guests would be surrounded by flatscreen TV’s airing sports. Dressing up would be NOT encouraged. Speaker would be Kurt Warner, discussing how the new Batman Begins movie series addresses spiritual warfare. I guess I’ll have to pass this along Larry and Rob . . .

Gilly’s Christmas Playlist ’10 -- Track 2: “And On That Day” - Phil Keaggy

2010-12-03T16:31:00.003-05:00

Loving and Lightbulbs

I was doing some work from home this morning while my daughters watched VeggieTales: The Star of Christmas. I’m a huge supporter of the creative and ministerial duo that is Phil Vischer and Nawrocki, but this wasn’t my favorite of their Christmas repertoire. However, this time, I overheard a line from the dialogue that really stuck with me.

In the basic premise of the story, Bob the Tomato and Larry the Cucumber play Cavis Appythart and Millward Phelps, two musical playwrights in late nineteenth century London. It’s Christmas season, and they’re struggling to produce a blockbuster. Meanwhile, a nearby church is producing a Christmas pageant, featuring a special relic known as the Star of Christmas. The church is unknowingly making itself a competitor and finding itself in the crosshairs of the two aspiring playwrights, who successfully steal the Star of Christmas. (More spoilers ahead). It was the day before opening night, and it seemed the playwrights’ desperate actions were fruitful. But then a technical mishap started a fire which burned the theatre to the ground, and the two were arrested for their theft.

Though the now-imprisoned Appythart’s ethics and intentions were questionable at best, he still was making a soliloquy in his cell about how he had only hoped to “teach London to love.” The playwrights‘ cellmate, a longtime prisoner, inquired of them. When they told him of their production goals, he laughed uproariously and said, “You’re teaching London to love, with lightbulbs?”

It was a hard thing for me to realize in my studies to be a pastor in music. All the music, art, technology and general pizazz of a church have their limits. The resourceful Willow Creek Community Church well-developed the method of such an “attraction-al” church to grow its attendants and increase its ministry, but (as they probably will agree) it seems that approach has passed its prime. Ironically, as I’m serving in ministry now, I feel like I’m having to help people unlearn the consumer-like tendencies which the “attraction-al” church era had fueled so well.

All I want to do is teach London to love. And lightbulbs are useless.

But I learned a while ago to see beyond the lightbulbs of Christmas and into its true meaning. Christmas (literally meaning “Christ’s mass” or “Christ’s coming”) is God’s gift of love, and Christ commanded us to love definitively for Him (John 13:34-35). In essence, we are to “teach London to love.” Maybe not London, per se, but our neighbor (Mark 12:29-31). But lightbulbs won’t do that. We need to live and love by example.

Lightbulbs are pretty. Music can sound angelic, but if we don’t have love, it all turns into resounding gongs and clanging cymbals (1 Corinthians 13:1-3). Maybe that’s one way we can model the original Christmas, by teaching love.

And On That Day - Phil Keaggy

I remember one day my Christian elementary school was having a little book sale, and I spotted a Christmas collection two-disc set and snuck it into my mother’s shopping bag. It’s since become the prominent Christmas musical listening tradition in our family. This song is track 2.

While endorsements from Jimi Hendrix may be an old wives’ tale, Phil Keaggy is widely praised for his guitar skills. However, his technical skill doesn’t show so much in this track as does his devotion and gentle passion as a singer and songwriter. His voice is gentle, and his words avoid much “Christian-ese.” My favorite line from the song is:

“And on that day was put in motion/the means of our redemption”

Gilly’s Christmas Playlist ’10 -- Track 1

2010-11-26T15:29:00.003-05:00

Really, How Should We Celebrate Christmas?

Why and how do we celebrate Christmas? Each year, how do we acknowledge the unprecedented notion of love and connection that a God would step down from the sky into human flesh to help His people?

We all have an answer, sometimes a proud one, and the answers are very diverse. Even in a society that has long allowed workers and students to stay home to celebrate this certain holiday, there is deep disagreement on the basic questions of how and why. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be, for example, bumper stickers that read “Keep Christ in Christmas.”

Last year, the musical fad was Andrea Boccelli, as he brought his rich voice to a very unoriginal yet gaudy production of Christmas carols, from the poetic meditations on Christ’s birth (which few understand or appreciate) to shallow and playful songs like “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,” which he sang on PBS while surrounded by a bunch cute winter-bundled lip-syncing kids with braces.

More interesting last year was the seeming assault on the staunch materialism of Christmas in our society. I was then involved in a church plant, for example, which was going through the materials of Advent Conspiracy, an international movement looking to restore Christmas again to be “world-changing,” challenging the materialism and stinginess of typical Christmas giving and encouraging Christians to give compassionately as Christ (in his birth, life and essence) would give: to the poor and needy (in all forms of the words).

This idea was not limited to the church. Starbucks gave an increasing portion of their proceeds to help the AIDS crisis in Africa, and gave a free CD with any purchase of $15 or more. Talk show host Stephen Colbert wrote and performed “Another Christmas Song,” lyrics of which are a brash parody against how the commercialization of Christmas has jumbled or ignored its history and tradition and even blinded us to the Tiny Tim’s of the world. The bridge reads:

“Young ones starving on a dead-end street
Taped up tabloids on their frost-bit feet
Hear what they carol as they huddle for heat”

I think this theme (rightfully) should somewhat return this year.

In our strive to be like Jesus, if we were to model our celebration of Christmas based on the original event, the beginning of Christ’s physical presence on earth, what would it look like?

We’ll go further next week.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“The Wexford Carol” - Yo-yo Ma & Allison Krauss

I actually found this song two years ago from a “free iTunes pick” redeemable card. Ma uses his well-recognized cello skills to achieve a Uillean pipe-like tone, along with some guest instruments, to bring the tune back to its Celtic roots. Allison Krauss steps out of her typical folk and country self and brings her substantive straight tone to the table. The lyrics are a poetic delivery of the narrative of the Christmas story, and they open with a seeming call to worship for any Christmas season:

"Good people all, this Christmas time,
Consider well and bear in mind
What our good God for us has done,
In sending His belovèd Son."

Ode to Chai

2010-11-24T14:24:00.000-05:00

I haven't yet sent an application to The Food Network, but my primary (actually, only) area of (remote) connoisseurship is that of the chai tea latte. In the past half-dozen years, it's risen from a mere curiosity to my first-choice purchase at a coffeeshop, should they have it . . .

Living on a college dorm floor that was brimming with proud traditions, I was first introduced to chai in a little live music and coffeehouse setting on my floor known as Chai Lounge. It was in raw teabag form, black, hot and homemade, and very disgusting. Still, under peer pressure and wanting to honor my dorm floor's tradition, I forced myself to finish the whole cup.

It was actually because of the working man's need for caffeine that I further acquainted myself with the chai tea latte. With few exceptions, I don't acquire taste, which is why I struggle to gulp all forms of alcohol and coffee (yes, even after working at Starbucks for three years). Nonetheless, I needed a source of caffeine to energize myself for those 4am shifts at Starbucks and to prevent the headaches that would likely follow. Chai tea lattes to the rescue.

I prefer my chais with a complementary flavoring. Cinnamon, caramel and nutmeg help to make the chai concentrate, so additional flavoring would accentuate. Peppermint and toffeenut do well to tag along with chai's little tang, whereas vanilla, hazelnut and white chocolate tend to over-sweeten. Chocolate and coconut are love-it-or-hate-it, and fruit syrups or juice blends have never worked for me.

Stores vary greatly on how many or few options for chai are available. Tea bag? Latte (with tea bag or concentrate)? Blended with ice? Mixed with fruit juice? Unsweetened or only sweetened? I've yet to go to many stores, but I've been to a few. Here are some reviews:

Starbucks arguably has dominated the tea market among chain coffeeshops, primarily due to their business with the popular tea manufacturer, Tazo. Also, being my longtime employer, I've had a lot of exposure to their chai. It seems that the non-resale concentrate Tazo delivers to Starbucks is better than any other chai Tazo produces (e.g. the concentrate available in boxes at Barnes & Noble). It has become my standard for the right balance of sweetness and tang in the taste of a chai tea latte.

Caribou, for those unfamiliar, is growing chain of coffeehouses based in the Minneapolis metro and expanding to the Midwest and West. Their appeal is their more laid-back atmosphere and lodge-themed and serene interior design, contrary to the trend where quiet and peaceful coffeehouses become quick, loud, come-and-go fast-food joints. I find their chai a bit disappointing, however.

Below is a growing list of places where I've had a chai tea latte. Reviews are available upon request, as rare as requests may be. Operators are half-heartedly standing by.

Atrium Tea Room (Sheboygan Falls, WI)
Daydream Cafe (Sheboygan Falls, WI)
American Club place (Kohler, WI)
Weather Center (Sheboygan, WI)
Panera (national chain)
Chocolate Chicken (Egg Harbor, WI)
Brew-Ha-Ha! (regional chain, DE)
South Bend Chocolate Company (South Bend, IN)

My Underlying Hipster-dom and How It's Not What You Think

2010-09-18T09:41:00.005-04:00

Recently, Christianity Today, a magazine I’ve long respected and read, released a cover story on hipster Christianity by Brett McCracken. My wife was able to read through the article before I was, and, before I started reading it, she told me she felt we were very much “hipster Christians,” in terms of what we value.

After I read through the article myself, I realized that, strangely enough, we only fulfill less than half of the ascribed stereotypes in the article. Sure, I have a goatee and a Mac, and I like to work and meet in coffee shops (I only drink tea, even), but we have two little daughters and are settled down in an otherwise seemingly non-hipster lifestyle. What gives?

Having read other reviews, McCracken’s very definition and understanding of hipster Christianity is actually seen as incomplete and disorganized (is it a matter of style or belief? He doesn’t seem clear). I’m far from a sociologist or cultural analyst, but I feel that, while McCracken was able to give surface-level caricatures and some possible interpretations of “hipster-dom,” he did not accurately (or positively) portray much of an amount of the underlying values of a Christian hipster. Many of such are the values with which I resonate, based on my journey in ministry and my experience working with fellow hipsters.

Same as Always, Cultural Packaging is Bad

The driving question of Brett McCracken’s earlier book on hipster Christianity is: “[A]s messengers of Christ, are we to let the message speak for itself or must we adapt and package it for a specific context?”

What’s annoying to me is that this is not a new question. It was asked when Bill Hybels began Willow Creek’s “seeker”-oriented approach. It was asked when the pioneers of Christian rock music like Larry Norman and Petra emerged decades ago. I imagine this question could be traced back through many cultural shifts and ministerial innovations. It perpetuates because those who ask it fail to realize the following reality. “Packaging” is inevitable.

Jesus himself used parables dominated with agricultural metaphors and similes, knowing that his audience had a vast majority of farmers or those who understood the proverbial ropes of farming. Was He, then, guilty for “adapting and packaging” the message for a specific context?

Every delivery of the Gospel comes in a package. Even if you strip the packaging as much as you can by, for example, walking up to a complete stranger on the street and reading them the “Romans Road,” the message is still packaged by the translation used, the overall context of your delivery, your personality and self, etc. I could go on.

Yes, if the core message of the Gospel (not any cultural or theological addenda) is being compromised in the process of said packaging, then red flags should be raised. But packaging, in and of itself, is not wrong.

The question, actually, can easily reveal dangerous bias. Missionaries, for example, will utilize ethnomusicological studies to help put sacred text, liturgy or Scripture to the indigenous music of their mission field (which perhaps was previously used, by the way, for pagan rituals). Their ministry instantly becomes more effective. Christians in the States are very supportive of that method overseas, but when local believers seem to do similar for the sake of a subculture of a musical style which makes many uncomfortable (because of the actual musical approach and/or the philosophical/cultural connotations, as people often have trouble separating the two), there is little-to-no support. Rather, this typical and timeless question gets asked, biases are revealed and, as I’ll get to later, the very core intentions of those trying to fulfill the Great Commission are cynically questioned.

When you have two different packages delivering the Gospel without compromise, to assume one type of package (perhaps a longtime or familiar one) is “letting the Gospel speak for itself” and the other is wrongfully “adapted and packaged” only reveals one’s own preferences and potentially shows a belief in an en-cultured Gospel.

Just Trying to Be Cool and Rebellious?

The aforementioned doubting of intention has also been a common thread in all criticisms of “rebellious” movements within the Church.

It’s all a marketing ploy.

Just like all the other movements, this is just an effort to make church “cool,” completely submitting oneself and identity to the consumerist culture, “rehabilitating” the face of the church to fit an image more likable by disgruntled churchgoers and those they’re trying to reach.

Really? To virtually generalize the background of Christian hipsters, belittle ministerial intentions, and reduce their whole approach and philosophy into sounding like a selfish marketing strategy is a bit insulting, to say the least.

As a pastor and a service producer, I need to clear the misconception that there’s a fine black line between church outreach/evangelism and marketing/advertising. It’s actually a very gray and muddy line with overlap. People use marketing and advertising techniques when conceiving outreach initiatives and even sermons, and that’s okay. Where it crosses out of bounds and into the strive for “cool” is measured by intention. As McCracken himself estimated in another ranting article (this from the Wall Street Journal), the generation hipster churches are trying to reach doesn't “want cool as much as [they] want real.” And again, intentions are cynically (and unfairly) doubted.

Again, I can’t speak for all hipster Christians, and there are churches out there that do, in fact, callously dedicate their resources and energy to appeal and attract, all the while arbitrarily disregarding all church heritage, association, and biblical values, also letting the core of the Gospel and deep relational discipleship to be shallowed and watered down. Those churches need to heed some of McCracken’s allegations. But to consolidate, over-simplify and stereotype all culturally and philosophically dissenting movements (not just hipsters) within the American Church since the Baby Boomers into one box of rebellion, immaturity and ulterior motive is highly inaccurate, judgmental and unnecessarily divisive, and it’s what McCracken seems to do.

(I once remember reading a submitted complaint in Campus Life magazine, claiming that the Christian latin/rapcore group POD simply dressed in black, etc. to “attract” the secular crowd. It didn’t occur to this reader (and many others) that POD was not, in fact, home-grown clean-cut Christians “converted” to a certain culture (which is what McCracken seems to assert for all hipster Christians). Their frontman, Sonny Sandoval, for example, grew up in the gangs-and-drugs street life of San Diego. His musical preferences, lyric-writing, appearance and testimony are not an act. They’re all very real.)

In defending intentions, another reviewer of McCracken’s book (a writer for Wunderkammer Magazine) put it this way:

“ . . . it is not apparent whether these themes among younger Christians testify to a longing to be cool or indicate maturation. For example, McCracken devotes one chapter to social justice because ‘Christian hipsters’ have an ‘activist core.’ But does their interest in justice have anything to do with being a hipster? Or is it evidence that young Christians are rediscovering the importance of being a voice for the voiceless and taking seriously Christ’s call to be his hands and feet? Are young Christians reading Thomas a Kempis, Flannery O’Connor, C. S. Lewis, Henry Nouwen, and Marilynne Robinson because they are hipsters? Or do they read because they are hungry for beautiful and wise works of literature that will nurture their faith? Are young Christians demanding a more nuanced understanding of art because that is what hipsters do? Or is it that they are coming into a fuller appreciation for the complexities of the gospel and how they relate to creativity?”

Hipsters do have ministerial intentions, and their approach could also be out of a type of cultural celebration, not adaptation. And maybe Mark Driscoll could be talking about sex from the pulpit because he believes it’s something the church should further address, not because it’s a shock tactic to help fill the pews or rack up the website visits. The historical Church made great strides in evangelism when they hopped on board with the Romans’ roads, Koine Greek, and the printing press, but now parts of the American Church are doubting the productivity in the use of Twitter and Facebook.

Words That Shouldn’t Exist

McCracken also seems to have a particular pet peeve regarding buzzwords.

Yes, I would describe myself as “missional.” And I would describe the services that I produce and the sermons I write as “relevant.” I don’t like these words, though, and I wish I didn’t have to describe myself as them. I wish these words didn’t exist. They shouldn’t have to, but they do.

When a preacher, teacher, or any Christian looks at the revelatory, ingenious and transcendent essence of Scripture, is there really any effort at all necessary to “make it relevant” and applicable to people’s lives? From the poetry and stories of love and hope in the Old Testament to the stories of healing, rescue and commission in the New Testament, isn’t Scripture inherently relevant? And aren’t churches supposed to be inherently “missional”? Isn’t that part of their denotation and purpose? To me, the phrase “missional church” sounds redundant.

My Journey to Hipster-dom (Which Didn’t Happen as McCracken Would Guess)

Like hipsters, I have roots in a Christian home. Like McCracken, I have roots in the Midwest and an alma mater at Wheaton College. But I don’t feel that my journey to hipster-dom actually consisted of a conversion to hipster-hood.

I was a musician before I was a Christian, studying composition at Wheaton’s Conservatory of Music, ready to dedicate all my energy to the excellence and diversity of a worship arts department. The studies at Wheaton in philosophy of the arts, ethnomusicology, church music history and the general feast of music inspired me toward a musical holistic form of worship, hence what many see as my atypical taste in music and worship (with no particular fondness for Ancient-Future worship, Over the Rhine, Sufjan Stevens or anything necessarily “different” as stereotype would have it)..

Discarding my previous and immature (for me) vocational dreams of Christian rock stardom or film music composition, I felt called to bring my love for and training in music and the arts to Church. I felt, to better be qualified for serving the Church, I would go to seminary to learn more about theology, church history and practice, philosophy of worship and, of course, a deeper study of the Word.

God used my seminary experience to imprint the mission of the Church in my heart. I was so inspired, particularly, by the stories and ministry philosophy (not so much the liturgy and music, as stereotype would have it) of the apostolic fathers. I was awed by how they were able to change countless lives, despite governmental oppression and false teaching, in an ancient and larger version of Las Vegas. Their aggressive compassion, charity, social work and martyrdom-willingness fueled their evangelism like gasoline to a wildfire.

In essence, my “new” vision for ministry didn’t base from a rebellion, rather a rediscovery of the ways of old, arguably a renaissance.

Call to Unity?

Having been trained also for church planting, having served in church plants and emerging churches, I know my story is not a rare one among whom McCracken would describe as hipsters or those with hipster values. Many such hipsters, upon sharing this adventurous and biblical vision for ministry, face, for whatever reason, a lack of support from churches and feel (ironically, as some would think) betrayed. Some hipsters break off from the Church in their association (hence some rebellion). Others stay and try to seek unity (hence me).

St. Augustine is famous for his purposefully paradoxical quote, “The Church is a whore, and the Church is my mother.” I’ve seen dissenting churches and movements only acknowledge the former, while those who they seem to rebel against only acknowledge the latter. The mature Christian will acknowledge both, and not stop people from driving out demons in Jesus’s name (Mark 9:38-41).

As a pastor, I strongly value the cultural transcendence of the Gospel, cultural engagement in ministry, and aggressive charity and evangelism, not so much relying on political clout but God’s empowerment. Outer appearances and other characteristics don’t stereotype me as a hipster, but do these biblical values distinguish me as such?

My hope is always for unity under the common purpose and value: the cause of the Gospel. It’s the words of some hipsters and McCracken that only seem to divide.

Glory from Dishonor: How I Worshipped While Playing the Bad Guy

2010-08-24T15:11:00.004-04:00

My college’s choir (myself included as a bass) once had the great experience of singing George Handel’s Messiah, arguably the most famous work of sacred choral literature, in a professional setting. The conservatory where I was a student pulled out all the proverbial stops (bringing along all the choirs and the esteemed orchestra) and our very own renowned baritone was a soloist among the three other soloists who had traveled from outside the country, taking time away from their involvements in operas and other opportunities. The conductor was a famous alumnus who had brought along with him a few friend professional string players from his home in Paris.

Now, one wouldn’t have to be a nerd, per se, but if a conservatory student didn’t have at least a strong appreciation for the intricate details (theory, history, etc.) of classical music, it would have been a very boring curriculum. This being a Christian conservatory, many were also finding it to be a worshipful experience. Never before had many of these young followers of Christ participated in such a large professional ensemble working on a well-written yet complex musical interpretation of the life of their Savior. The finished work, as an act of worship, was arguably a taste of the grandeur of what some might think music sounds like in Heaven.

Myself, I was pouring through the text throughout rehearsals. It is pure Scripture, verbatim, and learning the various connections to the Old Testament and other interesting aspects of Charles Jennens’s libretto made this quite the devotional experience. I’d encourage anyone to look through it before and/or during a listening.

So, what was the most powerfully moving or worshipful portion of Messiah?

Perhaps, for some, it was the opening chorus of Part II, the glorious introduction of Christ as ultimate savior, as announced by the outspoken and feisty John the Baptist in John 1:29b.

“Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world.”

For many, it likely was the chori that spoke of Jesus as the suffering servant of Isaiah 53:4-5.

4Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.
5But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.

After all, it was barely a year after the headlining and controversial film by Mel Gibson, The Passion of the Christ, had reached theaters, so many singers and instrumentalists still had those gripping but historically-accurate images of Christ’s atoning sacrifice in their minds.

For me, it wasn’t the ever-so-popular Hallelujah Chorus, although our college had an annual tradition to sing that during the last chapel session before Christmas. The grand finale chorus that quotes Revelation 5:12-13, giving the highest glory to Jesus Christ as the sacrificial lamb and His freeing work, actually came in a close second.
It was rather the chorus where a suffering Christ seems to echo the poetic theodicy of the most Israel-famed member of his own genealogy, King David. There are several connections between Psalm 22 and Christ’s passion, and Messiah included Psalm 22:7-8.

7All they that see me laugh me to scorn: they shoot out the lip, they shake the head, saying, “8He trusted on the LORD that he would deliver him: let him deliver him, seeing he delighted in him.”

Verse 7 is a tenor solo. Verse 8 is the chorus that we were singing, and the theme of ridicule with which the soldiers and scoffers plagued Jesus during his physical torture.

That’s right. My most worshipful movement of Messiah was playing the musical role of the outright cruel and sacrilegious. Why?

Messiah, to get a bit technical, is a narrative, which, other than a musical or an opera, is the most musical form of story-telling. The prophets’ in their foretelling, and the actual people who were involved in Jesus’s life and the portion that wrote about it are the characters. My role was the villain.

Playing the bad guy gave me a powerful glimpse into the hostility and suffering that Jesus faced on our behalf, being tortured by these men. No doubt Jesus could see the passionate and energetic fire of Satan in their eyes. Satan was doing what he’s always done: instilling painful self-doubt and discouragement to anyone holding faith and taking action in God’s purposes. For me to not give this role justice is undermining to Handel’s work and downplaying of the suffering that Christ went through. Playing this role well was seemingly an act of worship leadership.

For him to overcome such emotional and physical torture, what strength! On our behalf, what love!

My assignment to seemingly sing against my Lord turned, actually, into an unexpectedly deep and meaningful worship experience, as it was for those watching all the actors play their respective roles. It was a lesson, for me, that God was seeking from me a more holistic type of worship. A worship that better understands God’s identity and will by seeing Him through different perspectives, and by operating through different mediums.

For once, playing the role of the devil’s advocate was honoring to God.

Top Ten Things We (as Big City Metro Folks) Like About Sheboygan County:

2010-07-12T10:36:00.002-04:00

10) “Rush hour”? “Congestion delay”? What's that?
9) It smells like a pleasant lakeside camp resort, all the way to Falls.
8) The low price of milk. I suppose there’s an abundance.
7) There’s always at least a few cows or horses to point out to our children from the highway.
6) The passionate sports fans. Oh, how I’ve missed taking part in rivalries with class. (P.S. Are you really going to let the treachery of one good player alter a 90-year-old rivalry?)
5) Lake Michigan scares away many bad storms.
4) Food. Especially if it had any connection to a cow.
3) All-around access . . . to the Lake, Milwaukee, Chicago, Door County, Green Bay . . . not that I’d want to visit the latter.
2) We didn’t have to give 5 proofs of address and ID and a pint of blood for library cards. Oh, there’s the Lake again. Isn’t it beautiful?
1) The welcoming small-town values community!

Freedom, Like All Gifts of God, Must Be Generative

2010-07-01T23:52:00.003-04:00

“I am an American.” I still remember the months after September 11, when the Ad Council released the message where Americans of all nations, regions, customs and accents proudly make that self-statement. At the end, the screen shows the Latin phrase “E pluribus unum,” translated, “Out of many, one.” Some say that it was a message to unite in light of the terrorists' attacks, but I thought it was also a reminder of the vision that the founding fathers had for this country all along: a land of freedom and justice for all, where basic human rights are not denied. People that haven't fought for freedom or tasted and experienced a lack of freedom have trouble understanding the beautiful essence of that vision.

I feel I've grown to know a lot more about my heritage as an American in the past few years, learning more about that vision. I first learned about American church history under Scott Manetsch, and last year I was delighted to become familiar with the works of David McCullough. Despite the mistakes in our imperfect humanity throughout history, I've come to more appreciate the freedom I've been given in this country, and for the vision.

I think the proper response goes further, though.

Last summer, my wife and I came to know the work and words of Randy Singer. Being a lawyer, an author, and a pastor in Virginia Beach, he's quite passionate in his work and words when it comes to all types of freedom and justice for all. In a recent sermon he delivered on a July 4 weekend, he opened by saying, “When it comes to freedom, many Christians here in the U.S. think that their job's done.” He went on to talk about how many other peoples in other parts of the world still have yet to experience the freedom we have.

This past Memorial Day, I posted, “perhaps the best way, as a Christian and an American, to honor and thank those who died for our freedom is to seek the freedom of others.” It was “liked” by a variety of people. It's debatable to an American whether or not it's our business to seek the freedom of other countries, but it seems plain and clear to me as a follower of Someone who continually frees me: the job's not done. I need to seek the freedom of other individuals.

Freedom for all those in China who can't proclaim or even know Christ for fear of the government.
Freedom for the little grammar-school orphan girl in Romania who, in a developed response to mission work and charity from a team I served with, offered herself sexually.
Freedom for all students and scholars in Canada, where Christianity's designation as a religion continues to threaten and debunk its accreditation.
Freedom for all those in Port-au-Prince, who were oppressed and impoverished even before the earthquake arrived.
Freedom for all the single mothers in Uganda, who usually lose their home, their money and all their children's hopes for education due to illegal property seizures.
Freedom for the growing number of teenaged prostitutes in the United States.
Freedom for all the villages across the globe with contaminated drinking water, as water-borne illness fatalities have now surpassed that of all wars.
Freedom for all the poor children in India, forced into sex trafficking.
Freedom for all the spiritually-confused in South America and the Middle East, and freedom for all the spiritually-dead in North America, Europe and Japan.

Believe me, I'm grateful for the freedom I've been given as one born in America. My wife's late grandfather was one of the brave souls who stormed the beaches of Normandy and brought home some sand in a jar. The fact that I can proclaim what I believe as a Christian without fear of prosecution or arrest is a wonderful amenity to one who feels called to be a pastor, as well as my inalienable rights. These are privileges that our founding fathers (of the Church, not our country) didn't have, and they still brought the freedom of Christ to many lives.

But I can't help but also think of the freedom that Christ gave me with His death on the cross and His redemptive work in my life. We can all name the various metaphorical slave traders of our modern day. We ought to continually seek our freedom and the freedom of our modern day slaves.

Faith is a gift from God. Once we receive it, we're called to develop it in others. (Matthew 28:19-20)
Feeling loved by God, we're called to love others. (John 13:34)
The best form of leadership is the type that develops other leaders. (1 Timothy 4:11-15)
Having been given freedom, we're called to seek the freedom of others. (Prov. 31:8-9, Gal. 2:10, Jas. 1:27)
Like the old hymn says, “You want to pass it on.” (1 Peter 4:10)

This Independence Day, I'll be counting my blessings as an American Christian and renewing my vows to preserve the vision of our Founding Fathers. But I'll also be celebrating my freedom. All of it. And I'll be contemplating how I can seek to share it with those who still need it.

Because the job's not done.

Hillsong United: Worship Music for the Future?, pt. 2. . . The Sound

2010-06-21T11:07:00.000-04:00

This past summer, Nancy Beach, one of the authors and creative pillars of Willow Creek’s resourceful and resourced movement in American churches, was the unofficial hostess of their annual Arts Conference.

It was the second session. Hillsong United had just led the attendants in worship, and now Joel Houston (their rhythm guitarist and lead worshiper) and Darlene Zschech (worship pastor emeritus of Hillsong Church) were the featured interviewees. Joel sat there on his bar stool, casually, with a winter hat, claiming to have had a bad hair day, as Nancy Beach asked Joel and Darlene questions about worship and service production.

Then came the turn for questions from one of Willow Creek’s worship leaders. Once this young man had the microphone, the audience could tell that this was a prepared and pressing question for Joel: “How did you guys [Hillsong United] come up with your sound?”

No doubt the sound separates Hillsong United from others. They’re comfortably in the heavier side of pop rock. The band that’s currently traveling is armed with a pair of electric guitars, one acoustic (Joel Houston), two instrument-less singers, drums, bass and keyboards. The acoustic guitarist, one of the electric guitarists, and the two instrument-less singers take turns leading songs.

Joel Houston, who admitted his felt mere adequacy in singing, leads many songs with a commanding voice, both taking the stage inserting his gentle acoustic guitar input with grace. Jonathan (an instrument-less singer) and Jadwin (an electric guitarist) with their slightly more substantive voices, lead with energy, while the versatile Brooke Fraser (an instrument-less singer) sings with both the gentle agility of Sarah McLachlan and the loud passion of Pink.

The instrumental sound gives many nods to the foundational pop rock structure of U2, but they use their additional instruments and resources to take it another step with further involvement of distortion guitar and diverse synthesizer input, thereby adding touches of alternative and modern electric rock. Hillsong United’s chord progressions are often unpredictable and their melodies often walk the line of sing-a-bility, setting them more apart from the rest in the worship music genre.

To return to the opening story, Joel honestly answered that their sound somewhat evolved from their compilations of ideas, seemingly that the “end product” sound that many worship leaders admire was more and better than what they had in mind. Hillsong’s sound is not encompassing. It doesn’t expand into nods of different era, genre or ethnomusicology and wouldn’t fit well into a service of strict “blended service” preferring congregants. The main aspect of Hillsong United’s sound alone, though, that helps them live toward the second part of their own name, as I’ve said, is their professionalism.

But their music is just one pillar. Their lyrics are another . . .

A New Father's God-given Perspective

2010-06-20T07:04:00.001-04:00

As a child, I was particularly jealous of every mother on each Mother’s Day and every father on each Father’s Day. They seemed to get the royal treatment: breakfast in bed, special recognition in the morning sermon, lots of nods and applause on the TV, big time discounts in retail stores and local restaurants, and, of course, generous gifts and affirmations from friends and family. Certainly not that they were undeserving, but I perhaps envied that different style of celebration. In response, I invented my own holiday, Brother’s Day, held on the second Sunday of each August, where myself and my two little brothers would buy gifts for each other (as for getting the rest of the aforementioned royal treatment, I was working on that). It started out well, as my little brothers were too young at the time to have gainful employment, so the task of buying gifts for me was naturally given to my parents.

Here I am, fifteen years later. I’m a father, already slowly turning into the hard-to-buy-for dad I tried not to be. If one of my little girls followed in my footsteps and proposed the existence of a Sister’s Day, I’m not sure what my reaction would be. (Sadly, Brother’s Day never got off the ground, and I never heard back from Hallmark on it, either).

I would think that the biggest thing that fatherhood contributes to your relationship with God the Father is perspective. Now, you might think that my purporting such an analogy in which I represent God is nothing short of prideful. On the contrary.

It’s very humbling.

Once I knew that I was, in part, responsible for the upbringing of a clean-slate human being, all my flaws, hypocrisies and my potential future mistakes surfaced in my mind. How can I be a dad? I wouldn’t wish my mistakes and some of my experiences on anyone, and now it could happen to the very people I’m called, both by God and by state law, to nurture, through my bad example and influence. Though I felt ill-equipped and even hazardous, I was a role model to a human being.

As my first daughter learned to crawl, I could at least comfort myself in what I knew I could teach her: the basics of not to touch the stove, knives, electrical sockets, etc. Beyond the normal desire to explore, our daughter is like her parents in her self-driven independence, for better or for worse. And it’s amounted to a few daughter-parent conflicts and episodes of tough love where we have to remove her from reaching a potentially harmful toy or leave in her crib to “cry it out.” She really doesn’t understand that we know better than she does what’s better for her.

And then there’s rebellion. Last night, in fact, she refused to go to bed. She stood up at the end of her crib for almost an hour, shouting, almost waking up her younger sister. Our occasional scolding visits seemed futile, as she just smiled and giggled after we forcibly laid her back down. It can be hard to keep your love for a child unchanging when they’re defying, inconveniencing or even hurting you, but your obligation to them is unchanging as well.

But, oh, do I love to brag about her. My oldest is only nineteen months old, but she can already sing songs, dance and count to ten. You will never (aside from her younger sister) find a more intelligent, artistic or beautiful little girl. You can’t ever persuade me otherwise. Maybe I’m biased, but she’s my little girl.

God the Father, on the other hand, given His holiness and purity, is quite the sufficient role model. God the Father, given His knowledge, experience and perspective, knows a lot better than we do what’s better for us (I tend to have trouble with that one). God better tolerates and unconditionally loves us despite our most disrespectful rebellion. And, oh, does He love to brag about us.

This regularly gives me some proper perspective.

Personal-ism vs. Individualism: a quick thought

2010-06-16T17:29:00.003-04:00

As with all expository (non-topical) studies and messages, you look upon a passage of Scripture and you end up scratching the surface of a lot of topics, potentially opening up many cans of proverbial worms. Even just a single passage of Scripture can't be confined into one "moral of the story." Such is the way with it being of God and it being the also the voice of human experience.

This was certainly the case with Pastor Dr. Gary Hylander's recent message "The Critical Question," based on Mark 8:27-9:1. It's a very remarkable point in the life of Jesus and the story of the disciples' development. One could easily use this passage, as Dr. Hylander did, to at least give a nod to:

-the Church's relationship with culture
-the deity of Christ
-the social and political climate of the time
-the Messianic expectations
-philosophy of evangelism

and . . .

-the personal nature of one's faith and relationship to Jesus

It's the most recent I've been thinking about, because I recently read this article in Christianity Today. Certainly, there has been a strong push for individualism in pop culture, and it's somewhat reflected in the contemporary worship scene.

I've been thinking about how there's a balance between how God's love is extended to the individual, but we still need community. We need to be personal and individual, but not selfish. Thoughts?

Hillsong United: Worship Music for the Future?, pt. 1

2010-05-26T22:23:00.002-04:00

It’s a seeming tumultuous time for music in modern history, both for the music industry (as disc and download sales continue to decline) and the philosophical evolution of the arts (as it still processes postmodernism’s explosive impact and commercialism’s epidemic). Many worshippers in American churches, likewise, have followed the consumerism of music in their weekly Sunday services, choosing for themselves from a great variety of “worship styles.” The invisible lines of division created by the “Worship Wars” still exist, pulling communities apart. Contemporary Christian worship may have become its own invested sub-genre within the past few years, but it’s continually losing its appeal to new generations, and as much as I personally enjoy the music of Indelible Grace, I doubt its approach has the allure and substance to fare in such a diverse jungle of a musical world.

How Christian musicians, pastors and all those concerned about the above could, should or likely will respond to such problems can be the topic for a thesis that I’m probably too unqualified and lazy to write, and I also see, right now, no ultimate solution. I do take a lot of comfort, however, in the works of some self-dubbed “guys and a girl from Australia,” known as Hillsong United.

Before I talk about Hillsong United, I need to introduce my former self. If there ever was a snobby cynic to draw the sword against contemporary worship, that was me five years ago. I was a conservatory student studying music composition, and I had a hobby of leading myself in worship in front of cyberhymnal.org and my guitar (many floor-mates often joined me). I couldn’t have cared less about contemporary worship, as it generally seemed to have 1) low musical standards (pop rock that still hadn’t moved on from the 80’s), its boy-band-like vocals (otherwise it would have appealed to more guys), teeny-bop lyrics (far from the theological richness and poetry of hymns and spiritual songs), and the one-track emotional theme (happiness and praise, even if in denial of burdens, etc.). Keep in mind that while, now, I regularly and sincerely worship at “contemporary” services, the aforementioned are criticisms that I haven’t redacted. In college, I was seeking a higher stand for worship in musical excellence, lyrical and poetic truth, and in the conversation one has with God during the experience.

My stubborn and stark stance on this issue was a topic of debate between my girlfriend (now my wife) and I. I couldn’t bring myself to the same point as (insert author here), as my studies in church music history revealed similar musical and philosophical flaws in hymnody. Studying world music and the philosophy of the arts developed in me a miniature vision for a type of worshipful unity of believers achieved by celebrated and true excellence and diversity in the worship arts. For this vision, I found a little bit more interest and a lot more capability from the “contemporary” or “blended” crowd, of course, when they were willing to bravely deviate from the above consumerist compromise.

So why would I, seeking to holistically worship with musically holistic means, like a mediator dove in the line of fire, so wholeheartedly recommend Hillsong United?

The attempted answer is in pt. 2.

Prelude and Invocation

2010-05-19T16:42:00.003-04:00

Hello all readers,

My name is James. I have the great privilege of serving Sheboygan eFree and the rest of Sheboygan County as the church's Pastor of Worship and the Arts. As I launch this blog, I will soon be living in the Sheboygan area with my wife and two daughters.

This blog will serve a few purposes that I have in mind. The primary function is to be an outlet for my meditations and writings. I like to think, and sometimes my thinking is a bit random, so the topics may be a bit diverse. There will be a strong theme, however, in the integration of God, culture and the arts. This blog is appropriately titles "notes, overtones, and resolutions," not only for its musical double entendre, but also for three corresponding reasons:

notes - I may be a leader, but I am also a student . . . in God's lifelong curriculum toward holiness and righteousness. This blog is not so much to be seen as an imparting of wisdom, inspiration and academics from a retired veteran of worship leaders. Rather, it's to be seen as a journal of someone sharing your journey. This isn't necessarily what I would submit for the final exam in life. It's just notes.

overtones - I'm not an overly talented or very passionate research writer. Nor would I enjoy using allotments in cyberspace to tell you elaborate and menial details of my day using few capital letters, punctuation, complete words or sentences. I may have an occasional opinion, but it's delivered with tact and spunk, and it will never be unbiblical.

resolutions - The basic end to all my thoughts, as perhaps earlier implied, is a resolve and a step forward in the journey of holiness and righteousness, giving glory to God. This is done, whether in sadness or joy, in an act of poetic and sincere praise.

Hence, the hybrid of a psalmist and a columnist.

I'm starting this blog's chapter and coverage of this journey by posting some oldies (I don't want to call them "goodies" just yet). There will be some new additions soon (e.g. a Facebook page, a playlist, etc.), but please continue to read my notes, overtones and resolutions.

-James