It's obvious that John Kerry was the winner of tonight's debate. I hope this evening's broadcast gave people a vision of what an asset an articulate communicator and thinker would be in the White House. W, on the other hand, appeared like he had suffered a stroke or something.
I came away from the debate believing Kerry could repair some of the damage done to America's relationships in the international community. It's a sad commentary on the current administration when cooperation, dialogue, and attempts at peaceful conflict resolution sound like revolutionary new concepts.
I was very taken aback when early on in the debate President Bush said that as a country we must "consistently stay on the offensive." Is that really the best future that he can envision for our world? Is that the kind of country we want to live in? I realize that we need to defend ourselves, but our president seems like he has an overwhelming desire to use force to advance somewhat vauge goals. Sometimes it wasn't clear if he thought he was running for President of the United States or President of Iraq...
I'm glad that they got the terrorism and Iraq questions out of the way in this first debate -- that allows them to discuss domestic issues next time, which I have found to be sorely lacking in campaign coverage so far.
Thursday, September 30, 2004
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Review: The Essential Spider-Man Volume 4
In its heyday of the sixties, Marvel Comics stood head-and-shoulders above its competitors in the publishing field. When other comic publishers were content with churning out formula plots and uninspired artwork that hadn't changed that much since the 1940s, Marvel had the cleverest plots by Stan Lee and dynamic art work by the likes of Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko. This "what-will-they-think-of-next" quality keeps me collecting every reprint of this stuff I can lay my hands on.
After reading the first three volumes in its series I had really high hopes for the Essential Spider-Man Volume 4, but it never really delivers the goods. This volume covers the time that Stan Lee, writer extrodinaire, was relinquishing his role as the sole creative force of the comics empire, and boy does it show! In twenty-two issues of this comic no significant new characters or plot developments occur. It's so much that it's bad -- it's just tired. The stories seem to have fallen into a rut with Jameson ranting about Spidey, Gwen being miffed with Peter, Aunt May being worried, and Peter feeling like a schmuck at the end of the day. Ironically, Spider-Man's adventures had become formula, just like the competitor's comics from which it had drawn readers away. My advice is to stick with the first three volumes.
After reading the first three volumes in its series I had really high hopes for the Essential Spider-Man Volume 4, but it never really delivers the goods. This volume covers the time that Stan Lee, writer extrodinaire, was relinquishing his role as the sole creative force of the comics empire, and boy does it show! In twenty-two issues of this comic no significant new characters or plot developments occur. It's so much that it's bad -- it's just tired. The stories seem to have fallen into a rut with Jameson ranting about Spidey, Gwen being miffed with Peter, Aunt May being worried, and Peter feeling like a schmuck at the end of the day. Ironically, Spider-Man's adventures had become formula, just like the competitor's comics from which it had drawn readers away. My advice is to stick with the first three volumes.
Sunday, September 26, 2004
Things Left Undone
Life is a delicate balancing act. Some days are easier to balance than others. I seem to pay for it mostly between the hours of 10 pm and 6 am. I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping lately. When I do sneak in a few hours of sleep, invariably I awaken with some task already on my mind. (That makes me wonder -- does my subconscious grind about deadlines and projects all night?)
In the Book of Common Prayer, there's a line that says we have left undone those things which we ought to have done and it made me think about all the stuff that I've left piling up in my life: applying to graduate school, keeping in touch with out-of-town friends, submitting feature articles for publication... I really felt like I needed to take some positive steps to snap myself out of this funk. Two things came to mind pretty quickly: a broken step and a leaky faucet. They both had been in need of attention for quite some time, but I had been putting them off because I'm not much of a handyman.
I started with the step. All I had to do was nail it down, right? So I nailed it down only to discover that it wobbled just as much as before. It turned out that the nail was too short. Whoopsie! So I went to the hardware store to buy some long screws to fix the step. I came back from the store, got out our electric drill only to discover that the screws were still too short. Darn. They looked so much longer in the store. After a second trip to the hardware store for the longest screws they sold, the step was secure! It wasn't pretty, the producers of Trading Spaces won't be calling me anytime soon, but at least I don't have to worry about someone breaking their neck on our property it anymore!
Pretty please with myself, I decided that it was time to take on my second project: the dripping faucet. Although I'm pretty hopeless around the house, even I know that a leaky faucet just needs the washer replaced. So I carefully removed the faucet to get the old one out. Everything was looking fine until -- WHOOSH -- a geyser of water shot out of the sink. This is the same exact plumbing problem we've all delighted to hundreds of times in countless Three Stooges shorts. The geyser was actually hitting the ceiling and then running down the walls to soak every single thing in our kitchen. Having lived through the experience, let me tell you it's a lot funnier when it's Curly's fault.
After a few more pointless trips to the hardware store for the wrong stuff, I finally discovered that the faucet had been damaged beyond repair in the tsunami. While I just stared at the carnage that was once my kitchen sink, Lamont snuck off to the other room and discretely phoned my mom's boyfriend, who installed a brand new faucet that afternoon.
I had lived with a drippy faucet for months because I was too embarrassed to let anyone know that I didn't have the faintest clue how to fix it. The wobbly step should have been taken care of months before, but I was afraid I'd mess it up. But in just a few hours, both problems were solved. It made me think. Were either of these projects worth months of worrying? I don't think so. It felt good to have them finally taken care of.
It goes without saying that I slept pretty good last night.
In the Book of Common Prayer, there's a line that says we have left undone those things which we ought to have done and it made me think about all the stuff that I've left piling up in my life: applying to graduate school, keeping in touch with out-of-town friends, submitting feature articles for publication... I really felt like I needed to take some positive steps to snap myself out of this funk. Two things came to mind pretty quickly: a broken step and a leaky faucet. They both had been in need of attention for quite some time, but I had been putting them off because I'm not much of a handyman.
I started with the step. All I had to do was nail it down, right? So I nailed it down only to discover that it wobbled just as much as before. It turned out that the nail was too short. Whoopsie! So I went to the hardware store to buy some long screws to fix the step. I came back from the store, got out our electric drill only to discover that the screws were still too short. Darn. They looked so much longer in the store. After a second trip to the hardware store for the longest screws they sold, the step was secure! It wasn't pretty, the producers of Trading Spaces won't be calling me anytime soon, but at least I don't have to worry about someone breaking their neck on our property it anymore!
Pretty please with myself, I decided that it was time to take on my second project: the dripping faucet. Although I'm pretty hopeless around the house, even I know that a leaky faucet just needs the washer replaced. So I carefully removed the faucet to get the old one out. Everything was looking fine until -- WHOOSH -- a geyser of water shot out of the sink. This is the same exact plumbing problem we've all delighted to hundreds of times in countless Three Stooges shorts. The geyser was actually hitting the ceiling and then running down the walls to soak every single thing in our kitchen. Having lived through the experience, let me tell you it's a lot funnier when it's Curly's fault.
After a few more pointless trips to the hardware store for the wrong stuff, I finally discovered that the faucet had been damaged beyond repair in the tsunami. While I just stared at the carnage that was once my kitchen sink, Lamont snuck off to the other room and discretely phoned my mom's boyfriend, who installed a brand new faucet that afternoon.
I had lived with a drippy faucet for months because I was too embarrassed to let anyone know that I didn't have the faintest clue how to fix it. The wobbly step should have been taken care of months before, but I was afraid I'd mess it up. But in just a few hours, both problems were solved. It made me think. Were either of these projects worth months of worrying? I don't think so. It felt good to have them finally taken care of.
It goes without saying that I slept pretty good last night.
Saturday, September 25, 2004
Cool Website: Fact Check
The rhetoric of this election year is enough to make this communications specialist crawl into an isolation tank and hide until after Election Day. Lately I've become addicted to FactCheck.org, a nonpartisan website that provides an amazing public service. The folks behind it actually take the time to check out the facts (accusations?) behind today's politcal advertisements, and then share the information with the unwashed masses. It's amazing how often a little perspective on the context of a statement makes all the difference in the world. Go check out the website now and marvel how both political parties are equally full of crap!
Friday, September 24, 2004
Reversal of Fortune
Halloween is right around the corner, at least that’s what my kids tell me. They’re already working on a route that will allow them to knock on the maximum number of doors in a two-hour period. They’ve begun testing the tensile strength of grocery bags to see which brand will withstand the most weight in chocolate bars. They’ve already informed my wife and I that we need to pick them up early from their respective after school programs and have dinner waiting for them on the table, so they can hit the streets at 6 pm on the dot.
While it’s a bit perplexing to me that kids who can’t remember they had a book report due until I’m dropping them off at school can put so much preplanning into one evening over a month away, I won’t discourage them a bit. After all, Halloween is for kids. As a grown-up my involvement has been curtailed into bumming the odd Snickers bar off of my kids. But I can watch H-- and N-- and remember how exciting the last day in October was for me as a little boy all those years ago.
The two most impressive things about Halloween as I recall them are the candy distribution system and the fashion show. There was something so perfect about being able to knock on someone’s door and have them hand you a treat, no questions asked. If everything in life worked that easy, this world would be a much more pleasant place to live. And it was always fun to see my friends unmasked at the end of the night. Usually I could guess who was who early in the evening by observing the gait of their walk or by listening to the sound of their voice, muffled as it may have been by a cheap plastic mask. But there were always a few who managed to somehow stay anonymous. Sometimes I was surprised to find out that Frankenstein was the kid from down the street who was scared of his own shadow or, even more disturbing, that the prom queen who had been shadowing our group all night was my best friend’s older brother. They say you can’t judge by appearances, and I guess that’s doubly true on All Hallow’s Eve.
Jesus’ teaching ministry must have appeared to people as if some crazy Halloween parade was snaking its way through the backwaters of Israel. The in-crowd got tricks played on ‘em, and the physically and spiritually poor who weren’t even usually invited to the party walked away with all the treats. And wise people couldn’t shake the sneaking suspicion that everybody’s masks were coming off before this whole thing was over. At the end of the night Jesus gathers them around the campfire for a chilling tale from beyond the grave. Hear the story of The Rich Man and the beggar…
"There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores and longing to eat what fell from the rich man's table. Even the dogs came and licked his sores. (Luke 16: 19 – 21)
Eighties music was just as much about fashion as it was about the songs. I recall Prince and the Revolution, all decked out in purple, putting on these over-the-top concerts. Well, purple was a sign of opulence long before his royal badness made it his trademark. In Roman times, purple came from an expensive dye that only the richest people could afford and wearing it was actually subject to government regulation as to who could wear it and how much they could wear. So when Jesus mentions that the rich man wore purple it means that he was wealthy—deliriously wealthy—and possessed influence and power. This man was filthy rich and didn’t lack for anything.
Contrast that with Lazarus, the other guy Jesus mentions. You couldn’t find another person more different if you tried. He’s homeless, he’s ill, and he’s starving. It even mentions that dogs came and licked his wounds—to our culture that would be like saying he had rats crawling all over him.
At this point in the story neither of the characters interact with each other. That’s because they’re separated by means of a gate. The rich man is on one side whooping it up at a dinner party. Lazarus is on the other side suffering from starvation and disease in the gutter.
The time came when the beggar died and the angels carried him to Abraham's side. The rich man also died and was buried. In hell, where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side. (Luke 16: 22 – 23)
Jesus should have been a writer for The Twilight Zone. He came up with these twists in his stories that would have given Rod Serling a run for his money. This parable isn’t any exception. A complete reversal of fortune occurs in the afterlife. The rich man is now the one in the place of torment; the beggar discovers himself as the guest of honor at a party.
We can’t assume that it’s because the man is rich that he finds himself in hell, because Abraham was wealthy and he is pictured as being in paradise. Neither does the story imply that the rich man committed heinous and evil acts. His only sin was allowing a beggar to starve to death when he could have prevented it.
So he called to him, 'Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.' (Luke 16: 24)
The rich man pulls rank; he probably doesn’t know any different. Even in hell he assumes that Lazarus is at his beck and call to serve him. By referring to Abraham as father, he’s not so subtlety pointing out that he’s a Jew—one of the chosen people. But pedigree doesn’t matter anymore.
"But Abraham replied, 'Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony. And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us.' (Luke 16: 25 – 26)
I was trying to work a conflict out with another person one time and it was obvious that it wasn’t going anywhere. I’ll never forget that this man ended the discussion by saying how is it that I can be wrong if God is blessing me so much? I hope that even the rosiest of circumstances would never prevent me from self-reflection. In the same way, the culture of Jesus’ day thought that if things were going good for a person that was proof that they had God’s favor. If someone was ill, poor, or experiencing a personal crisis they were assumed to have done something horrible to be so deserving of God’s judgment, and as such didn’t really warrant much consideration or compassion.
Have things really changed that much today? I don’t think so. We blame poor people for being poor. If she just got off her lazy butt and got a job-- ! Never mind that maybe she never finished high school. Never mind that childcare may cost more than the minimum-wage paycheck she’ll bring home at the end of the week. We’re so good at insulating ourselves from other people by pinning all their problems exclusively on personal responsibility. That’s a naïve view of life.
Most of us would never dream of attributing another person’s crisis to the judgment of God. But when the crisis is our own, it becomes a different story, doesn’t it? We assume that something dreadful in ourselves has caused God to abandon and make him deaf to our cries for help.
The other evening I took part in a spirituality program at Mount Saint Benedict Monastery. It was a reflection on the life of Thea Bowman, a remarkable African-American nun who radiated love for God and other people. Music was an important expression of Sister Thea and we were treated to a performance on videotape. It was an old Negro spiritual called Wade in De Water, and it contained a lot of imagery from Isaiah 43: When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. The song connected with me because I very much feel lost in the current of life these days.
Sister Thea described God as the one who troubles the waters to move us out of complacency and into another stage of life and development. That just blew me away. Over this last year I've seen the troubling waters in my life as something to be fought against and overcome. But to picture God himself as stirring up the water for a purpose was something that honestly had never crossed my mind. Saint Paul, who never seemed to have things going his way either, said it another way: we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him. It’s an important fact to hold on to, even if the present troubles allow us to do so by only be the slightest strand.
We’re told that a chasm kept the rich man and Lazarus apart. I don’t think it was something new to the afterlife. Truly, there always was a chasm separating the rich man and the beggar—a chasm of apathy. And that chasm still exists today whenever I am indifferent to the suffering of the people around me. The difference between myself and the rich man is that I still have the option to cross the abyss and treat a person with dignity and compassion.
"He answered, 'Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my father's house, for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment. '
"Abraham replied, 'They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.'
" 'No, father Abraham,' he said, 'but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.'
"He said to him, 'If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.' " (Luke 16: 27 – 31)
Abraham’s voice echoes down through the ages to me today. I don’t need a sign from God to convince me I need to help a person in crisis, because I’m already well aware of what the scriptures say about helping the needy. My problem is most likely is one of vision. Do I see the beggar outside of my gates? Or have I trained myself to not make eye contact?
Jesus once said that whatever we do for the least of people is also done for him. Mother Theresa demonstrated the love of Christ to thousands of people in the slums of Calcutta. Faced with an overwhelming task, she and her Sisters of Charity kept themselves centered by always reminding themselves, “We see Christ in the poor.”
After the resurrection, the risen Christ joined two of the disciples on a journey. They didn’t know it was him, though, even though they walked a number of miles together and talked together. It wasn’t until after they shared a meal together and offered this weary traveler a place to bed down for the night that they recognized him as Jesus.
Who is lying outside my gate? Let me pray for the compassion to cross that chasm and respond to my brother or sister, like me, created in the image of God.
While it’s a bit perplexing to me that kids who can’t remember they had a book report due until I’m dropping them off at school can put so much preplanning into one evening over a month away, I won’t discourage them a bit. After all, Halloween is for kids. As a grown-up my involvement has been curtailed into bumming the odd Snickers bar off of my kids. But I can watch H-- and N-- and remember how exciting the last day in October was for me as a little boy all those years ago.
The two most impressive things about Halloween as I recall them are the candy distribution system and the fashion show. There was something so perfect about being able to knock on someone’s door and have them hand you a treat, no questions asked. If everything in life worked that easy, this world would be a much more pleasant place to live. And it was always fun to see my friends unmasked at the end of the night. Usually I could guess who was who early in the evening by observing the gait of their walk or by listening to the sound of their voice, muffled as it may have been by a cheap plastic mask. But there were always a few who managed to somehow stay anonymous. Sometimes I was surprised to find out that Frankenstein was the kid from down the street who was scared of his own shadow or, even more disturbing, that the prom queen who had been shadowing our group all night was my best friend’s older brother. They say you can’t judge by appearances, and I guess that’s doubly true on All Hallow’s Eve.
Jesus’ teaching ministry must have appeared to people as if some crazy Halloween parade was snaking its way through the backwaters of Israel. The in-crowd got tricks played on ‘em, and the physically and spiritually poor who weren’t even usually invited to the party walked away with all the treats. And wise people couldn’t shake the sneaking suspicion that everybody’s masks were coming off before this whole thing was over. At the end of the night Jesus gathers them around the campfire for a chilling tale from beyond the grave. Hear the story of The Rich Man and the beggar…
"There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores and longing to eat what fell from the rich man's table. Even the dogs came and licked his sores. (Luke 16: 19 – 21)
Eighties music was just as much about fashion as it was about the songs. I recall Prince and the Revolution, all decked out in purple, putting on these over-the-top concerts. Well, purple was a sign of opulence long before his royal badness made it his trademark. In Roman times, purple came from an expensive dye that only the richest people could afford and wearing it was actually subject to government regulation as to who could wear it and how much they could wear. So when Jesus mentions that the rich man wore purple it means that he was wealthy—deliriously wealthy—and possessed influence and power. This man was filthy rich and didn’t lack for anything.
Contrast that with Lazarus, the other guy Jesus mentions. You couldn’t find another person more different if you tried. He’s homeless, he’s ill, and he’s starving. It even mentions that dogs came and licked his wounds—to our culture that would be like saying he had rats crawling all over him.
At this point in the story neither of the characters interact with each other. That’s because they’re separated by means of a gate. The rich man is on one side whooping it up at a dinner party. Lazarus is on the other side suffering from starvation and disease in the gutter.
The time came when the beggar died and the angels carried him to Abraham's side. The rich man also died and was buried. In hell, where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side. (Luke 16: 22 – 23)
Jesus should have been a writer for The Twilight Zone. He came up with these twists in his stories that would have given Rod Serling a run for his money. This parable isn’t any exception. A complete reversal of fortune occurs in the afterlife. The rich man is now the one in the place of torment; the beggar discovers himself as the guest of honor at a party.
We can’t assume that it’s because the man is rich that he finds himself in hell, because Abraham was wealthy and he is pictured as being in paradise. Neither does the story imply that the rich man committed heinous and evil acts. His only sin was allowing a beggar to starve to death when he could have prevented it.
So he called to him, 'Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.' (Luke 16: 24)
The rich man pulls rank; he probably doesn’t know any different. Even in hell he assumes that Lazarus is at his beck and call to serve him. By referring to Abraham as father, he’s not so subtlety pointing out that he’s a Jew—one of the chosen people. But pedigree doesn’t matter anymore.
"But Abraham replied, 'Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony. And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us.' (Luke 16: 25 – 26)
I was trying to work a conflict out with another person one time and it was obvious that it wasn’t going anywhere. I’ll never forget that this man ended the discussion by saying how is it that I can be wrong if God is blessing me so much? I hope that even the rosiest of circumstances would never prevent me from self-reflection. In the same way, the culture of Jesus’ day thought that if things were going good for a person that was proof that they had God’s favor. If someone was ill, poor, or experiencing a personal crisis they were assumed to have done something horrible to be so deserving of God’s judgment, and as such didn’t really warrant much consideration or compassion.
Have things really changed that much today? I don’t think so. We blame poor people for being poor. If she just got off her lazy butt and got a job-- ! Never mind that maybe she never finished high school. Never mind that childcare may cost more than the minimum-wage paycheck she’ll bring home at the end of the week. We’re so good at insulating ourselves from other people by pinning all their problems exclusively on personal responsibility. That’s a naïve view of life.
Most of us would never dream of attributing another person’s crisis to the judgment of God. But when the crisis is our own, it becomes a different story, doesn’t it? We assume that something dreadful in ourselves has caused God to abandon and make him deaf to our cries for help.
The other evening I took part in a spirituality program at Mount Saint Benedict Monastery. It was a reflection on the life of Thea Bowman, a remarkable African-American nun who radiated love for God and other people. Music was an important expression of Sister Thea and we were treated to a performance on videotape. It was an old Negro spiritual called Wade in De Water, and it contained a lot of imagery from Isaiah 43: When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. The song connected with me because I very much feel lost in the current of life these days.
Sister Thea described God as the one who troubles the waters to move us out of complacency and into another stage of life and development. That just blew me away. Over this last year I've seen the troubling waters in my life as something to be fought against and overcome. But to picture God himself as stirring up the water for a purpose was something that honestly had never crossed my mind. Saint Paul, who never seemed to have things going his way either, said it another way: we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him. It’s an important fact to hold on to, even if the present troubles allow us to do so by only be the slightest strand.
We’re told that a chasm kept the rich man and Lazarus apart. I don’t think it was something new to the afterlife. Truly, there always was a chasm separating the rich man and the beggar—a chasm of apathy. And that chasm still exists today whenever I am indifferent to the suffering of the people around me. The difference between myself and the rich man is that I still have the option to cross the abyss and treat a person with dignity and compassion.
"He answered, 'Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my father's house, for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment. '
"Abraham replied, 'They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.'
" 'No, father Abraham,' he said, 'but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.'
"He said to him, 'If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.' " (Luke 16: 27 – 31)
Abraham’s voice echoes down through the ages to me today. I don’t need a sign from God to convince me I need to help a person in crisis, because I’m already well aware of what the scriptures say about helping the needy. My problem is most likely is one of vision. Do I see the beggar outside of my gates? Or have I trained myself to not make eye contact?
Jesus once said that whatever we do for the least of people is also done for him. Mother Theresa demonstrated the love of Christ to thousands of people in the slums of Calcutta. Faced with an overwhelming task, she and her Sisters of Charity kept themselves centered by always reminding themselves, “We see Christ in the poor.”
After the resurrection, the risen Christ joined two of the disciples on a journey. They didn’t know it was him, though, even though they walked a number of miles together and talked together. It wasn’t until after they shared a meal together and offered this weary traveler a place to bed down for the night that they recognized him as Jesus.
Who is lying outside my gate? Let me pray for the compassion to cross that chasm and respond to my brother or sister, like me, created in the image of God.
Thursday, September 23, 2004
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you.
When you're in ministry, you have to find ways to rest and recharge. Most of my pastor-friends golf. I don't own a set of clubs, so I hang out at Mount Saint Benedict Monastery instead. Last evening's spirituality program was a reflection on the life of Thea Bowman, a remarkable African-American nun who radiated love for God and other people. Music was an important expression of Sister Thea and we were treated to a performance on videotape.
It was an old Negro spiritual called (I think) Wade in De Water, and it contained a lot of imagery from Isaiah 43: "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you." The song connected with me because I very much feel lost in the current of life these days.
Sister Thea described God as the one who troubles the waters to move us out of complacency and into another stage of development. That just blew me away. Over this last year I've seen the troubling as something to be overcome; I've pictured God as a neglectful lifeguard content to let me go under for the third time while he suns himself on his perch. But God himself stirring up the water for a purpose was something that had never crossed my mind. Where is God stirring up the water in my life? What am I learning in the midst of all this churning? What current does he seek to place me in? Will I fight the current or go with it? So much of the misery in my life seems to stem from wanting to wait out the troubling so I can stay exactly where I'm at.
We had a time of meditation where we sat in a circle and Sister Carolyn shared some words from A Retreat With Thea Bowman and Bede Abram: Leaning on the Lord. Then we sang a Children Go Where I Send Thee as a group, with a couple of us at a time going into the middle of the circle to "wade" our hands in a bowl of water. I went up with Cal, a Presbyterian minister and author that I had met at dinnertime.
The evening made me think of a quote by Bruce Lee, but I was too embarrassed to share it with anyone: "Be like water making its way through cracks. Do not be assertive, but adjust to the object, and you shall find a way round or through it. If nothing within you stays rigid, outward things will disclose themselves. Empty your mind, be formless. Shapeless, like water. If you put water into a cup, it becomes the cup. You put water into a bottle and it becomes the bottle. You put it in a teapot it becomes the teapot. Now, water can flow or it can crash. Be water my friend."
It was an old Negro spiritual called (I think) Wade in De Water, and it contained a lot of imagery from Isaiah 43: "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you." The song connected with me because I very much feel lost in the current of life these days.
Sister Thea described God as the one who troubles the waters to move us out of complacency and into another stage of development. That just blew me away. Over this last year I've seen the troubling as something to be overcome; I've pictured God as a neglectful lifeguard content to let me go under for the third time while he suns himself on his perch. But God himself stirring up the water for a purpose was something that had never crossed my mind. Where is God stirring up the water in my life? What am I learning in the midst of all this churning? What current does he seek to place me in? Will I fight the current or go with it? So much of the misery in my life seems to stem from wanting to wait out the troubling so I can stay exactly where I'm at.
We had a time of meditation where we sat in a circle and Sister Carolyn shared some words from A Retreat With Thea Bowman and Bede Abram: Leaning on the Lord. Then we sang a Children Go Where I Send Thee as a group, with a couple of us at a time going into the middle of the circle to "wade" our hands in a bowl of water. I went up with Cal, a Presbyterian minister and author that I had met at dinnertime.
The evening made me think of a quote by Bruce Lee, but I was too embarrassed to share it with anyone: "Be like water making its way through cracks. Do not be assertive, but adjust to the object, and you shall find a way round or through it. If nothing within you stays rigid, outward things will disclose themselves. Empty your mind, be formless. Shapeless, like water. If you put water into a cup, it becomes the cup. You put water into a bottle and it becomes the bottle. You put it in a teapot it becomes the teapot. Now, water can flow or it can crash. Be water my friend."
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
A Very Wookie Christmas Part Two
I spent the better part of the day waffling around about whether I wanted to spend the money on the new Star Wars Trilogy boxed set. Well, the fan-boy part of me won out over the cheapskate part and I found myself in the electronics department at the Lakewood Wal-Mart. Because it was the first day of release, Wal-Mart was selling it for only $34.80, which made me feel a lot better.
I'm not going to go into an analysis of the story or the historical significance of this movie. I'm just going to assume that you already agree with me that these are three of the most entertaining films of all time. Now that we got that out of the way, I can just give my opinion of the DVD set.
My verdict: FREAKIN' AWESOME. The remastering job is incredible -- the films look better than they ever have. The color saturation is just perfect, the image is sharp, and there aren't any dust or speckles on the film. I read that Lucasfilm went through the trilogy FRAME BY FRAME and cleaned it up for the DVD restoration. My son and I watched Star Wars tonight and it looked like it was only shot last year. It's money worth spent on some movies we'll watch over and over!
May the Force be with you!
I'm not going to go into an analysis of the story or the historical significance of this movie. I'm just going to assume that you already agree with me that these are three of the most entertaining films of all time. Now that we got that out of the way, I can just give my opinion of the DVD set.
My verdict: FREAKIN' AWESOME. The remastering job is incredible -- the films look better than they ever have. The color saturation is just perfect, the image is sharp, and there aren't any dust or speckles on the film. I read that Lucasfilm went through the trilogy FRAME BY FRAME and cleaned it up for the DVD restoration. My son and I watched Star Wars tonight and it looked like it was only shot last year. It's money worth spent on some movies we'll watch over and over!
May the Force be with you!
Sunday, September 19, 2004
Quote of the Week; Psalm 22
I wanted to have a Biblical quote this week, so what better place to look for inspiration than the Psalms? I once met a pastor who had spent over two decades in hospital ministry. He told me that his many years in crisis care to individuals taught him that the twenty-second Psalm is just as important as the twenty-third. I can see where he's coming from -- the 23rd Psalm expresses our deepest longings for a personal God; the 22nd Psalm is the expression of raw terror that comes from our fears of abandonment in a time of crisis. It's real, and asks why me why now why this to a God who seems to not be paying attention. But sometimes ya gotta just let it out, right? - I.F.
PSALM 22
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?
O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer; and by night, but find no rest.
Yet you are holy, enthroned on the praises of Israel.
In you our ancestors trusted; they trusted, and you delivered them.
To you they cried, and were saved; in you they trusted, and were not put to shame.
But I am a worm, and not human; scorned by others, and despised by the people.
All who see me mock at me; they make mouths at me, they shake their heads;
"Commit your cause to the LORD; let him deliver— let him rescue the one in whom he delights!"
Yet it was you who took me from the womb; you kept me safe on my mother's breast.
On you I was cast from my birth, and since my mother bore me you have been my God.
Do not be far from me, for trouble is near and there is no one to help.
Many bulls encircle me, strong bulls of Bashan surround me;
they open wide their mouths at me, like a ravening and roaring lion.
I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax; it is melted within my breast;
my mouth is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to my jaws; you lay me in the dust of death.
For dogs are all around me; a company of evildoers encircles me. My hands and feet have shriveled;
I can count all my bones. They stare and gloat over me;
they divide my clothes among themselves, and for my clothing they cast lots.
But you, O LORD, do not be far away! O my help, come quickly to my aid!
Deliver my soul from the sword, my life from the power of the dog!
Save me from the mouth of the lion! From the horns of the wild oxen you have rescued me.
I will tell of your name to my brothers and sisters; in the midst of the congregation I will praise you:
You who fear the LORD, praise him! All you offspring of Jacob, glorify him; stand in awe of him, all you offspring of Israel!
For he did not despise or abhor the affliction of the afflicted; he did not hide his face from me, but heard when I cried to him.
From you comes my praise in the great congregation; my vows I will pay before those who fear him.
The poor shall eat and be satisfied; those who seek him shall praise the LORD. May your hearts live forever!
All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the LORD; and all the families of the nations shall worship before him.
For dominion belongs to the LORD, and he rules over the nations.
To him, indeed, shall all who sleep in the earth bow down; before him shall bow all who go down to the dust, and I shall live for him.
Posterity will serve him; future generations will be told about the Lord,
and proclaim his deliverance to a people yet unborn, saying that he has done it.
PSALM 22
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?
O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer; and by night, but find no rest.
Yet you are holy, enthroned on the praises of Israel.
In you our ancestors trusted; they trusted, and you delivered them.
To you they cried, and were saved; in you they trusted, and were not put to shame.
But I am a worm, and not human; scorned by others, and despised by the people.
All who see me mock at me; they make mouths at me, they shake their heads;
"Commit your cause to the LORD; let him deliver— let him rescue the one in whom he delights!"
Yet it was you who took me from the womb; you kept me safe on my mother's breast.
On you I was cast from my birth, and since my mother bore me you have been my God.
Do not be far from me, for trouble is near and there is no one to help.
Many bulls encircle me, strong bulls of Bashan surround me;
they open wide their mouths at me, like a ravening and roaring lion.
I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax; it is melted within my breast;
my mouth is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to my jaws; you lay me in the dust of death.
For dogs are all around me; a company of evildoers encircles me. My hands and feet have shriveled;
I can count all my bones. They stare and gloat over me;
they divide my clothes among themselves, and for my clothing they cast lots.
But you, O LORD, do not be far away! O my help, come quickly to my aid!
Deliver my soul from the sword, my life from the power of the dog!
Save me from the mouth of the lion! From the horns of the wild oxen you have rescued me.
I will tell of your name to my brothers and sisters; in the midst of the congregation I will praise you:
You who fear the LORD, praise him! All you offspring of Jacob, glorify him; stand in awe of him, all you offspring of Israel!
For he did not despise or abhor the affliction of the afflicted; he did not hide his face from me, but heard when I cried to him.
From you comes my praise in the great congregation; my vows I will pay before those who fear him.
The poor shall eat and be satisfied; those who seek him shall praise the LORD. May your hearts live forever!
All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the LORD; and all the families of the nations shall worship before him.
For dominion belongs to the LORD, and he rules over the nations.
To him, indeed, shall all who sleep in the earth bow down; before him shall bow all who go down to the dust, and I shall live for him.
Posterity will serve him; future generations will be told about the Lord,
and proclaim his deliverance to a people yet unborn, saying that he has done it.
Saturday, September 18, 2004
Books Worth Reading
I love books. If I had to choose between my DVDs, CDs or books, I would choose my books in a heartbeat. I'm a cheapskate who will stand in the men's department repeatedly questioning myself if I really need that pair of tube socks, but I have never regretted buying a book. And if I had to choose between books and sex, well, I'd choose sex. That would be a no-brainer. But I'd go book shopping afterwards.
Someday I hope to own a home large enough to have a room that will be exclusively devoted to a library and reading. And at the rate the Experiment House clan are collecting volumes, it will soon become a necessity! Here are a few that I've really enjoyed lately:
The Core Realities of Youth Ministry was the book Mike Yaconelli was working on when he tragically passed away last autumn. While part of me wishes that his last book would have been a more autobiographical volume along the lines of Dangerous Wonder or Messy Spirituality, I think that a book about youth ministry is fitting end to a career devoted to impacting the lives of teens. This book isn't so much a how-to as a how-to-be book. Mike had seen it all in his 42 years of working with young people, and in this book he pulls no punches. He doesn't outline yet another sure-fire program to grow your church, he shares his thoughts on some guiding principles that should be in evidence in healthy youth ministries. Mike's enthusiasm and passion for youth and youth leaders is in evidence on every page. Recommended reading.
Frederick Buechner is my all-time favorite author and I always keep one of his books in my reading rotation. On the Road with Archangel is a charming little novella based on the Book of Tobit in the Apochrypha. The best praise I can give this book is that it made me smile when I was going through a particularly unhappy time in my life. Read it and you'll smile, too. The final line is the most memorable ending to a book that I've ever read, but resist the temptation to look because you'll spoil everything!
I love a good scary story, so it's been great this last year to discover the books of Charles Williams. War in Heaven is part detective story, part supernatural thriller, and a lot of fun to read. After reading three books by this author I'm amazed that he is still relatively unknown. I'm surprised that some enterprising film maker doesn't buy the rights to his books dirt cheap and make some mind-blowing scary movies.
In a time when Christ's message of grace and redemption has all been snuffed out by tradition and rule-keeping, The Ragamuffin Gospel is a breath of fresh air. Author Brennan Manning candidly share his struggles with self-hatred and writes about the love of God with deep gratitude. Every time I finish a book by Brennan Manning I wish that I could put a copy in the hands of everyone I know. This one is no exception.
My biggest pet peeve about the church today is that it's more interested in indoctrination than experience. Stories of Emergence collects people's experiences of the "a-ha moments" when their perspective on faith, life and themselves changed and the ensuing fallout. The book offers no easy answers, and by no means will you reach the same conclusions as everyone profiled therein. It's a thought-provoking book which has made me consider how willing I am to live out my faith, even when it puts me out of step with the church culture at large and even my own notions of being a good person.
Someday I hope to own a home large enough to have a room that will be exclusively devoted to a library and reading. And at the rate the Experiment House clan are collecting volumes, it will soon become a necessity! Here are a few that I've really enjoyed lately:
The Core Realities of Youth Ministry was the book Mike Yaconelli was working on when he tragically passed away last autumn. While part of me wishes that his last book would have been a more autobiographical volume along the lines of Dangerous Wonder or Messy Spirituality, I think that a book about youth ministry is fitting end to a career devoted to impacting the lives of teens. This book isn't so much a how-to as a how-to-be book. Mike had seen it all in his 42 years of working with young people, and in this book he pulls no punches. He doesn't outline yet another sure-fire program to grow your church, he shares his thoughts on some guiding principles that should be in evidence in healthy youth ministries. Mike's enthusiasm and passion for youth and youth leaders is in evidence on every page. Recommended reading.
Frederick Buechner is my all-time favorite author and I always keep one of his books in my reading rotation. On the Road with Archangel is a charming little novella based on the Book of Tobit in the Apochrypha. The best praise I can give this book is that it made me smile when I was going through a particularly unhappy time in my life. Read it and you'll smile, too. The final line is the most memorable ending to a book that I've ever read, but resist the temptation to look because you'll spoil everything!
I love a good scary story, so it's been great this last year to discover the books of Charles Williams. War in Heaven is part detective story, part supernatural thriller, and a lot of fun to read. After reading three books by this author I'm amazed that he is still relatively unknown. I'm surprised that some enterprising film maker doesn't buy the rights to his books dirt cheap and make some mind-blowing scary movies.
In a time when Christ's message of grace and redemption has all been snuffed out by tradition and rule-keeping, The Ragamuffin Gospel is a breath of fresh air. Author Brennan Manning candidly share his struggles with self-hatred and writes about the love of God with deep gratitude. Every time I finish a book by Brennan Manning I wish that I could put a copy in the hands of everyone I know. This one is no exception.
My biggest pet peeve about the church today is that it's more interested in indoctrination than experience. Stories of Emergence collects people's experiences of the "a-ha moments" when their perspective on faith, life and themselves changed and the ensuing fallout. The book offers no easy answers, and by no means will you reach the same conclusions as everyone profiled therein. It's a thought-provoking book which has made me consider how willing I am to live out my faith, even when it puts me out of step with the church culture at large and even my own notions of being a good person.
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
Shrewd, Dude!
The internet. Ten years ago, I had never heard of it. Now I can’t imagine what it would be like to live without it. Back in the dark ages it used to be cool to come home from work and find a letter or postcard in my mailbox. But today, I get lots of mail and the mailbox is my computer. I don’t have to drive to the mall to shop—I can log into amazon.com and select books until my debit card cries for mercy! I even find myself using the reference room at the library less and less because many of the same tools are available to me just by turning on my iBook. I can save money on my phone bill by instant messaging my friends who are away at college. To show you how far this computer thing has come, I don’t even have a thermometer outside my window anymore—my computer is in constant contact with the National Weather Service and constantly displays the up-to-date weather conditions in my menu bar.
As much as I love technology, I have to be honest with you. It’s amazing to me that any of it works. You gotta hand it to the people who write the computer code that make all these neat programs. I don’t have the aptitude for that kind of job, but I wish I did sometimes—a good code writer makes around $70,000 a year. That’s not to say that they have it easy. They’re highly skilled, and have to put in a lot of twelve, sixteen-hour days staring at a monitor.
I just read a story about a shrewd programmer in San Francisco who had his fill of the grind. So he outsourced his job to a guy in India. He e-mails India the instructions in the morning; India e-mails him the code back in the evening. So this programmer has cut his day down from sixteen hours to around two. He just needs to check the Indian’s code and communicate with his boss. He’s happy—he pulls $70,000 a year for working ten hours a week; the guy that actually does the work is happy because he gets a $10,000 cut, which is about eighteen times what the average per capita income is in India. Is this an example of a good work ethic? No. But you got to admit, we all get a kick out of stories where someone who pulls one over on the boss.
It wasn’t any different in Jesus’ day. Slaves outnumbered free men in the Roman Empire and a lot of jokes and yarns revolved around the theme of the ignorant boss getting his comeuppance by a peon. Even Jesus was known to tell a funny story now and then:
Jesus told his disciples: "There was a rich man whose manager was accused of wasting his possessions. So he called him in and asked him, 'What is this I hear about you? Give an account of your management, because you cannot be manager any longer.'
"The manager said to himself, 'What shall I do now? My master is taking away my job. I'm not strong enough to dig, and I'm ashamed to beg—I know what I'll do so that, when I lose my job here, people will welcome me into their houses.'
"So he called in each one of his master's debtors. He asked the first, 'How much do you owe my master?'
" 'Eight hundred gallons of olive oil,' he replied.
"The manager told him, 'Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it four hundred.'
"Then he asked the second, 'And how much do you owe?'
" 'A thousand bushels of wheat,' he replied.
"He told him, 'Take your bill and make it eight hundred.'
"The master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly. For the people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light.” (Luke 16: 1 –8)
The parable of the dishonest manager. People say this is the most confusing parable of all. In fact, Saint Augustine dismissed it entirely saying, “I can’t believe this story came from the lips of our Lord.” Why do people have such a hard time with this parable? It may become apparent if I retell the story in a contemporary setting, with my apoligies.
There’s this guy that’s so rich he doesn’t even have to manage his own affairs. What he doesn’t know is that while he’s away in North Carolina golfing, the flunky he hired as his operations manager is just blowing his money. He’s buying new furniture for his office, he’s taking lots of business lunches and trips, and he’s driving around an expense new company car. That night when the rich guy is relaxing in the clubhouse, one of his friends from up north clues him in to what’s going on back at home. The rich guy whips out his cell phone and reads the manager the riot act. He tells him he’s gonna catch the first flight out on Monday and he’s going to personally audit the books.
This is bad news for the flunky. He can’t imagine having to actually work for a living in a factory. So he thinks, well, maybe I can make a good impression of some of the clients and maybe one of them will hire me. So he goes to the clients and rewrites their contracts—let’s ‘em off the hook at just 50 cents on the dollar. He’s a pretty popular guy all the sudden. And there are a lot less overdue accounts.
His boss comes back into town and checks the books. Everything looks good. And he’s like, oh, my mistake, I thought the company was making more than we are. Forget I said anything. And he gives the flunky a day off with pay. All that’s missing in this parable is a drummer hitting a rimshot.
But that retelling illustrates why people sometimes have a hard time with this parable? The main character is a slacker and a crook. And he comes out on top! The question that people have struggled with down through church history has been what in the world is the point of the story? Because it can almost seem as if Jesus is saying get ahead by being dishonest.
Of course that’s not consistent with what we know of Jesus’ character and his other teachings in the Bible. I think the real key is in verse eight: The master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly. For the people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light. The point he’s trying to get across is that worldly people are keener and more creative about accumulating wealth that than God’s people are about building His kingdom. The flunky was in a bad situation, but he turned it around and assured himself a good future. What are we doing as followers of Christ to influence our present situations towards the kind of future that God intends?
I kept stumbling over the word shrewd, so I looked it up in the dictionary to make sure I had a precise definition. Here’s what I found: Characterized by keen awareness, sharp intelligence, and often a sense of the practical. Those aren’t bad qualities to possess! Jesus continues on:
I tell you, use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings "Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much. So if you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches? And if you have not been trustworthy with someone else's property, who will give you property of your own? (Luke 16: 9 – 12)
When we sit down as a family to dinner, someone prays the blessing. Usually it’s my son. Sometimes we forget to pray all together, sometimes the prayer is heartfelt, sometimes an outside observer would assume that our prayer is just some kind of minor superstition that we observe out of habit. But there’s a real point to saying grace, even if it gets glossed over sometimes in our rush to diminish our hunger—everything that we have is a gift from God. There have been other religions that believed they had to placate the Gods to insure that they would have what they need, but the God as revealed in the Gospels provides for me even when I’m unaware of my needs. I’m very much the beneficiary of God’s property.
How am I managing it? What am I doing with my paycheck, and my skills, and my possessions, and my influence? Am I a flunkie, reckless and wasteful with my boss’ stuff? Or am I being trustworthy as evidenced by how I use everything I’ve been given to serve the people around me, and to bit-by-bit refashion the world into something a little more like God intended.
"No servant can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money." (Luke 16: 13)
When I was first married I had to work a bunch of part-time jobs to pay rent. Sometimes both bosses would want me to work on the same day at the same time. I’d have to choose between the two. Let me tell ya, it’s not easy trying to keep two different bosses happy. It’s so much better to just have one commitment.
It’s not just our work schedule that we have to prioritize. Everyday we have to decide if we’re going to be more devoted to the Creator or created things. Because it’s going to make a difference in the kind of people we are. In turn, it’s going to make a difference in the kind of world we live in.
Henri Nouwen was a Catholic Priest who left a teaching career at Harvard to work at a community where people with developmental disabilities live with assistants. Here are his musings on where we should invest our energy:
“Our lives as we live them seem like lives that anticipate questions that never will be asked. It seems as if we are getting ourselves ready for the question ‘How much did you earn during your lifetime?’ or ‘How many friends did you make?’ or ‘How much progress did you make in your career?’ or ‘How much influence did you have on people?’ or ‘How many conversions did you make?’
“Were any of these to be the question Christ will ask when he comes again in glory, many of us could approach the judgment day with great confidence. But nobody is going to hear any of these questions. The question we all are going to face is the question we are least prepared for. It is: ‘What have you done for the least of mine?’ As long as there are strangers; hungry, naked, and sick people; prisoners, refugees, and slaves; people who are handicapped physically, mentally, or emotionally; people without work, a home, or a piece of land, there will be that haunting question from the throne of judgment: ‘What have you done for the least of mine?’”
In just a few short years, the internet went from a novelty item to a necessity. You’d better believe that if I had the gift of foresight I would have invested my money in amazon.com or Yahoo. Christ told a weird story to a group of religious people to give them insight into where to invest their lives. And the story still speaks to us today.
The future isn’t in stuff. It’s in God’s Kingdom. And we’re being trustworthy when we use the things God blesses us with to provide for those less fortunate than ourselves.
As much as I love technology, I have to be honest with you. It’s amazing to me that any of it works. You gotta hand it to the people who write the computer code that make all these neat programs. I don’t have the aptitude for that kind of job, but I wish I did sometimes—a good code writer makes around $70,000 a year. That’s not to say that they have it easy. They’re highly skilled, and have to put in a lot of twelve, sixteen-hour days staring at a monitor.
I just read a story about a shrewd programmer in San Francisco who had his fill of the grind. So he outsourced his job to a guy in India. He e-mails India the instructions in the morning; India e-mails him the code back in the evening. So this programmer has cut his day down from sixteen hours to around two. He just needs to check the Indian’s code and communicate with his boss. He’s happy—he pulls $70,000 a year for working ten hours a week; the guy that actually does the work is happy because he gets a $10,000 cut, which is about eighteen times what the average per capita income is in India. Is this an example of a good work ethic? No. But you got to admit, we all get a kick out of stories where someone who pulls one over on the boss.
It wasn’t any different in Jesus’ day. Slaves outnumbered free men in the Roman Empire and a lot of jokes and yarns revolved around the theme of the ignorant boss getting his comeuppance by a peon. Even Jesus was known to tell a funny story now and then:
Jesus told his disciples: "There was a rich man whose manager was accused of wasting his possessions. So he called him in and asked him, 'What is this I hear about you? Give an account of your management, because you cannot be manager any longer.'
"The manager said to himself, 'What shall I do now? My master is taking away my job. I'm not strong enough to dig, and I'm ashamed to beg—I know what I'll do so that, when I lose my job here, people will welcome me into their houses.'
"So he called in each one of his master's debtors. He asked the first, 'How much do you owe my master?'
" 'Eight hundred gallons of olive oil,' he replied.
"The manager told him, 'Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it four hundred.'
"Then he asked the second, 'And how much do you owe?'
" 'A thousand bushels of wheat,' he replied.
"He told him, 'Take your bill and make it eight hundred.'
"The master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly. For the people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light.” (Luke 16: 1 –8)
The parable of the dishonest manager. People say this is the most confusing parable of all. In fact, Saint Augustine dismissed it entirely saying, “I can’t believe this story came from the lips of our Lord.” Why do people have such a hard time with this parable? It may become apparent if I retell the story in a contemporary setting, with my apoligies.
There’s this guy that’s so rich he doesn’t even have to manage his own affairs. What he doesn’t know is that while he’s away in North Carolina golfing, the flunky he hired as his operations manager is just blowing his money. He’s buying new furniture for his office, he’s taking lots of business lunches and trips, and he’s driving around an expense new company car. That night when the rich guy is relaxing in the clubhouse, one of his friends from up north clues him in to what’s going on back at home. The rich guy whips out his cell phone and reads the manager the riot act. He tells him he’s gonna catch the first flight out on Monday and he’s going to personally audit the books.
This is bad news for the flunky. He can’t imagine having to actually work for a living in a factory. So he thinks, well, maybe I can make a good impression of some of the clients and maybe one of them will hire me. So he goes to the clients and rewrites their contracts—let’s ‘em off the hook at just 50 cents on the dollar. He’s a pretty popular guy all the sudden. And there are a lot less overdue accounts.
His boss comes back into town and checks the books. Everything looks good. And he’s like, oh, my mistake, I thought the company was making more than we are. Forget I said anything. And he gives the flunky a day off with pay. All that’s missing in this parable is a drummer hitting a rimshot.
But that retelling illustrates why people sometimes have a hard time with this parable? The main character is a slacker and a crook. And he comes out on top! The question that people have struggled with down through church history has been what in the world is the point of the story? Because it can almost seem as if Jesus is saying get ahead by being dishonest.
Of course that’s not consistent with what we know of Jesus’ character and his other teachings in the Bible. I think the real key is in verse eight: The master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly. For the people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light. The point he’s trying to get across is that worldly people are keener and more creative about accumulating wealth that than God’s people are about building His kingdom. The flunky was in a bad situation, but he turned it around and assured himself a good future. What are we doing as followers of Christ to influence our present situations towards the kind of future that God intends?
I kept stumbling over the word shrewd, so I looked it up in the dictionary to make sure I had a precise definition. Here’s what I found: Characterized by keen awareness, sharp intelligence, and often a sense of the practical. Those aren’t bad qualities to possess! Jesus continues on:
I tell you, use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings "Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much. So if you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches? And if you have not been trustworthy with someone else's property, who will give you property of your own? (Luke 16: 9 – 12)
When we sit down as a family to dinner, someone prays the blessing. Usually it’s my son. Sometimes we forget to pray all together, sometimes the prayer is heartfelt, sometimes an outside observer would assume that our prayer is just some kind of minor superstition that we observe out of habit. But there’s a real point to saying grace, even if it gets glossed over sometimes in our rush to diminish our hunger—everything that we have is a gift from God. There have been other religions that believed they had to placate the Gods to insure that they would have what they need, but the God as revealed in the Gospels provides for me even when I’m unaware of my needs. I’m very much the beneficiary of God’s property.
How am I managing it? What am I doing with my paycheck, and my skills, and my possessions, and my influence? Am I a flunkie, reckless and wasteful with my boss’ stuff? Or am I being trustworthy as evidenced by how I use everything I’ve been given to serve the people around me, and to bit-by-bit refashion the world into something a little more like God intended.
"No servant can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money." (Luke 16: 13)
When I was first married I had to work a bunch of part-time jobs to pay rent. Sometimes both bosses would want me to work on the same day at the same time. I’d have to choose between the two. Let me tell ya, it’s not easy trying to keep two different bosses happy. It’s so much better to just have one commitment.
It’s not just our work schedule that we have to prioritize. Everyday we have to decide if we’re going to be more devoted to the Creator or created things. Because it’s going to make a difference in the kind of people we are. In turn, it’s going to make a difference in the kind of world we live in.
Henri Nouwen was a Catholic Priest who left a teaching career at Harvard to work at a community where people with developmental disabilities live with assistants. Here are his musings on where we should invest our energy:
“Our lives as we live them seem like lives that anticipate questions that never will be asked. It seems as if we are getting ourselves ready for the question ‘How much did you earn during your lifetime?’ or ‘How many friends did you make?’ or ‘How much progress did you make in your career?’ or ‘How much influence did you have on people?’ or ‘How many conversions did you make?’
“Were any of these to be the question Christ will ask when he comes again in glory, many of us could approach the judgment day with great confidence. But nobody is going to hear any of these questions. The question we all are going to face is the question we are least prepared for. It is: ‘What have you done for the least of mine?’ As long as there are strangers; hungry, naked, and sick people; prisoners, refugees, and slaves; people who are handicapped physically, mentally, or emotionally; people without work, a home, or a piece of land, there will be that haunting question from the throne of judgment: ‘What have you done for the least of mine?’”
In just a few short years, the internet went from a novelty item to a necessity. You’d better believe that if I had the gift of foresight I would have invested my money in amazon.com or Yahoo. Christ told a weird story to a group of religious people to give them insight into where to invest their lives. And the story still speaks to us today.
The future isn’t in stuff. It’s in God’s Kingdom. And we’re being trustworthy when we use the things God blesses us with to provide for those less fortunate than ourselves.
Monday, September 13, 2004
Whatever happened to Geranimals?
Geranimals made my style conflicts disappear when I was an early elementary girl with pigtails and a bounce in my step. I could look into my closet and know that the lion shirt would match the lion pants, skirt and jeans with the little lion emblem on the back pocket. How simple dressing for school used to be! Today we need Clinton and Stacie from TLC"s "What not to Wear", to assure us if we match and are stylish enough for the office. Back in the day - all I needed were my clothes from Sears with the Geranimals animals and I was a regular fashion diva!
I was in the middle of school clothes shopping for my 11 and 7 year olds when I remembered the beautiful simplicity of Geranimals wear. I think my Mom used to buy me several interchangeable Geranimal outfits, along with new underwear, T-shirts, socks and shoes and boom - school shopping was done.
Nowadays things like school shopping are not so simple.
I hit the end of summer sales with my pre-teen daughter and this was a successful trip. By the time we scoured through 4 stores and endless clearance racks, we managed to buy some basics as well as some essential pieces for the fall. It came to my understanding that every girl in middle America has to own a poncho this fall. Luckily, we found one at Sears (gasp!) that fit both my budget and my daughters fashion sense. Child number one - 65% shopped for.
Child number two is generally really easy to shop for. I think it's because when you're shopping for boys jeans and you aren't sure of the size, you can find those jeans with the half elastic that hold them up if they are a little big or stretch if they are a little small. Truth be told after a summer of running, playing and growing I came to find out ( after buying clothes by educated guesses) that they don't make half elastic jeans for boys larger than a size 8. They do make half or husky jeans - but the sizing is so random it is almost impossible to shop for a child without them trying everything on. So after finding almost everything I needed for child one, I was disappointed when everything I had purchased for child #2 was grossly over-big. I had to return every last item and go home empty-handed for child #2.
For the next few weeks, I enlisted help from my family and friends. "My son will have no jeans to wear to school if you don't help me find an 8 1/2 or 10 1/2." My mother in law, who is a great blessing to me, found a track suit that fit my son. But even with her years of shopping savvy behind her, there were no jeans for my little guy to be found. So for the lack of geranimals, I resolved to purchase several sweat suits that my seven-year-old could ram around the second grade in, and I found two sweat suits he could wear to school.
About a week later, a friend of mine gave me some hand me downs from her son. I was pumped because I knew there had to be some perfect size 10's in those two white bags of clothes. I tore into the bags, sorted out the jeans, had my son try every pair only to find that out of fifteen pairs of jeans, only one or two fit.
What is Mom of two growing kids to do?
I wasn't sure, so I went shopping for socks, T-shirts, and underwear.
For those of you that don't have kids, the underwear and school supply shopping is the very last bit of school shopping that most parents do. I don't know why we don't shop for underwear first, but that is just the way it's done. In the midst of getting my daughter and son's finals shopped for I decided to take on last look in the boys section of Kmart and Walmart. To my great dismay, all of the 1/2 sizes were gone, and I was having to come to terms with sending my son to school on the first day as a phys-ed teacher.
As I took one last look at the boys clothes, my eyes scanned a rack of summer jeans that I hadn't noticed before. The jeans were on sale and hidden between the 7's and the 18 1/2' s was a pair of 8 1/2 tan jeans. My son wasn't with me to try them on but before anyone could say husky - the jeans were in my cart. The last five minutes of school shopping was a blur to me.
It suddenly seems that every item that I needed was right in front of me. Two more pair of jeans with a wallet and chain attached (another must have - only for all middle american boys) A shirt that had "Brazil" printed on it and a plaid button down shirt that matched the tan jeans all piled into my happy little school shopping cart. School shopping was now complete.
My 11 year old looked really cool on the first day of school. She wore a red angled skirt, red and black rock-n-roll T-shirt, black poncho, thick black belt and Chuck Taylor hi-tops. I think she felt confident as she walked into school for the first day.
My 7 year old also looked great for day one of second grade. He wore black baggy jean with the wallet and chain, the "Brazil" shirt, and his new Reebok sneakers.
We all like to make a good impression on the first day of school. Even seven year old boys like to look "cool". I just wonder why Geranimals aren't cool for kids to wear anymore? Kids feel this pressure to dress in name brand sneakers and hoodies today, when I was proud to have picked out my outfit and match all in the same day. Maybe it was a simpler time, but I miss something about the ease of that childhood moment.
After all the fuss of getting first day outfits together, we have settled into the second week of school and my kids aren't thinking so much about what they're going to wear, but if they got their homework done and the book bags ready for the next day. So far, my daughter's favorite piece of new clothing is a zip up hoodie with electric guitars on the front and my son's is (you guessed it) his red sweat suit. Simplicity of dressing isn't only something that I enjoyed as an elementary school kid, I think it's something kids still desire today. If only I wasn't so easily caught up in my own standards for brand names it's possible that they might still make Geranimals for me to wear. Let's see, do I want to wear the yellow lion or the orange tiger to school tomorrow? Cheers Geranimals, I'll be missing you every time I go back to school shopping.
I was in the middle of school clothes shopping for my 11 and 7 year olds when I remembered the beautiful simplicity of Geranimals wear. I think my Mom used to buy me several interchangeable Geranimal outfits, along with new underwear, T-shirts, socks and shoes and boom - school shopping was done.
Nowadays things like school shopping are not so simple.
I hit the end of summer sales with my pre-teen daughter and this was a successful trip. By the time we scoured through 4 stores and endless clearance racks, we managed to buy some basics as well as some essential pieces for the fall. It came to my understanding that every girl in middle America has to own a poncho this fall. Luckily, we found one at Sears (gasp!) that fit both my budget and my daughters fashion sense. Child number one - 65% shopped for.
Child number two is generally really easy to shop for. I think it's because when you're shopping for boys jeans and you aren't sure of the size, you can find those jeans with the half elastic that hold them up if they are a little big or stretch if they are a little small. Truth be told after a summer of running, playing and growing I came to find out ( after buying clothes by educated guesses) that they don't make half elastic jeans for boys larger than a size 8. They do make half or husky jeans - but the sizing is so random it is almost impossible to shop for a child without them trying everything on. So after finding almost everything I needed for child one, I was disappointed when everything I had purchased for child #2 was grossly over-big. I had to return every last item and go home empty-handed for child #2.
For the next few weeks, I enlisted help from my family and friends. "My son will have no jeans to wear to school if you don't help me find an 8 1/2 or 10 1/2." My mother in law, who is a great blessing to me, found a track suit that fit my son. But even with her years of shopping savvy behind her, there were no jeans for my little guy to be found. So for the lack of geranimals, I resolved to purchase several sweat suits that my seven-year-old could ram around the second grade in, and I found two sweat suits he could wear to school.
About a week later, a friend of mine gave me some hand me downs from her son. I was pumped because I knew there had to be some perfect size 10's in those two white bags of clothes. I tore into the bags, sorted out the jeans, had my son try every pair only to find that out of fifteen pairs of jeans, only one or two fit.
What is Mom of two growing kids to do?
I wasn't sure, so I went shopping for socks, T-shirts, and underwear.
For those of you that don't have kids, the underwear and school supply shopping is the very last bit of school shopping that most parents do. I don't know why we don't shop for underwear first, but that is just the way it's done. In the midst of getting my daughter and son's finals shopped for I decided to take on last look in the boys section of Kmart and Walmart. To my great dismay, all of the 1/2 sizes were gone, and I was having to come to terms with sending my son to school on the first day as a phys-ed teacher.
As I took one last look at the boys clothes, my eyes scanned a rack of summer jeans that I hadn't noticed before. The jeans were on sale and hidden between the 7's and the 18 1/2' s was a pair of 8 1/2 tan jeans. My son wasn't with me to try them on but before anyone could say husky - the jeans were in my cart. The last five minutes of school shopping was a blur to me.
It suddenly seems that every item that I needed was right in front of me. Two more pair of jeans with a wallet and chain attached (another must have - only for all middle american boys) A shirt that had "Brazil" printed on it and a plaid button down shirt that matched the tan jeans all piled into my happy little school shopping cart. School shopping was now complete.
My 11 year old looked really cool on the first day of school. She wore a red angled skirt, red and black rock-n-roll T-shirt, black poncho, thick black belt and Chuck Taylor hi-tops. I think she felt confident as she walked into school for the first day.
My 7 year old also looked great for day one of second grade. He wore black baggy jean with the wallet and chain, the "Brazil" shirt, and his new Reebok sneakers.
We all like to make a good impression on the first day of school. Even seven year old boys like to look "cool". I just wonder why Geranimals aren't cool for kids to wear anymore? Kids feel this pressure to dress in name brand sneakers and hoodies today, when I was proud to have picked out my outfit and match all in the same day. Maybe it was a simpler time, but I miss something about the ease of that childhood moment.
After all the fuss of getting first day outfits together, we have settled into the second week of school and my kids aren't thinking so much about what they're going to wear, but if they got their homework done and the book bags ready for the next day. So far, my daughter's favorite piece of new clothing is a zip up hoodie with electric guitars on the front and my son's is (you guessed it) his red sweat suit. Simplicity of dressing isn't only something that I enjoyed as an elementary school kid, I think it's something kids still desire today. If only I wasn't so easily caught up in my own standards for brand names it's possible that they might still make Geranimals for me to wear. Let's see, do I want to wear the yellow lion or the orange tiger to school tomorrow? Cheers Geranimals, I'll be missing you every time I go back to school shopping.
inFATuated
Today is a holiday, but it's not on any calendar, except the one on my Palm Pilot. Today is D-day. "D" stands for diet, and September 13, 2004 is the day I weigh myself and reflect on my accomplishments. I began my diet and exercise program on May 13 with a goal of getting down to 260 pounds.
No, that's not a typo. My goal was to drop down to 260 pounds, which should give you an indication what a tub-o-lard I am. The day I started my diet I weighed 303 scale-crushing pounds. So let me go find out where I'm at today...
[Like a battleship launching itself out of port, I.F. lurches his considerable bulk across an ocean of carpet. His destination: The Scale Islands.]
Okay. I'm back. I missed my goal, but I did drop 28 lbs. to 275 lbs. Which is pretty good, because I gave up on the whole diet thing at the beginning of July. (The weight loss clinic I signed up with closed it's doors a few weeks after I joined. It's as if they took one look at me and decided they weren't up for the challenge.)
I planned to write a lot of funny stuff in this paragraph, because I assumed that I had gained all my weight back, but I can't think of anything funny to write about losing 28 lbs.
So what did I learn from this experience?
That's it for my D-day reflections. I'm off to eat an ice-cream sandwich!
No, that's not a typo. My goal was to drop down to 260 pounds, which should give you an indication what a tub-o-lard I am. The day I started my diet I weighed 303 scale-crushing pounds. So let me go find out where I'm at today...
[Like a battleship launching itself out of port, I.F. lurches his considerable bulk across an ocean of carpet. His destination: The Scale Islands.]
Okay. I'm back. I missed my goal, but I did drop 28 lbs. to 275 lbs. Which is pretty good, because I gave up on the whole diet thing at the beginning of July. (The weight loss clinic I signed up with closed it's doors a few weeks after I joined. It's as if they took one look at me and decided they weren't up for the challenge.)
I planned to write a lot of funny stuff in this paragraph, because I assumed that I had gained all my weight back, but I can't think of anything funny to write about losing 28 lbs.
So what did I learn from this experience?
- I learned that I am a fat, fat man, because only a fat, fat man would be pleased that he was weighing in at only 275 lbs.
- I still lost 28 lbs. even though I only gave the diet a halfhearted effort. Makes me kind of wish I had stuck it out.
- My self-esteem is tied to my weight. When I thought I had gained all my weight back I felt awful. When the needle on the scale pointed to 275 I felt like a smokin' hot stud.
That's it for my D-day reflections. I'm off to eat an ice-cream sandwich!
Saturday, September 11, 2004
Know, My Name Is Lost
In a country of over 294 million people, it stands to reason that a few of them would get misplaced now and then. The FBI alone maintains approximately 800,000 missing person files. To put that number in perspective, imagine that there wasn’t one single soul in all of Chautauqua County. Then imagine five counties of the same size, all deserted. It’s a mind-boggling exercise. My calculator tells me that, on average, 1 person out of every 400 goes missing.
But the loss isn’t really something that you measure by numbers, because how could you ever count the tears shed or the number of sleepless nights experienced by anguished families, desperate for a glimpse of a loved one who has, for all intents and purposes, simply vanished? Missing persons. There’s something about the very nature of that kind of loss with which we can all empathize.
A month ago very few people in Jamestown had ever heard the name Yolanda Bindics, but she’s on all our minds very much these days. Our thoughts and prayers go out to her and her children. Even the most cynical among us hope that our darkest suspicions or fears will be proven wrong, that the whole thing will turn out to be some simple misunderstanding. Imagine the joy that would spill over this town.
Can it really be true that 800,000 people are nowhere to be found? And if it’s really possible that children, mothers, brothers and friends from anywhere can go missing, is it possible that I can be lost?
The religious elite thought Jesus had lost his mind. It was the only explanation for what they saw before them. Yesterday Jesus had been a guest at their banquet—didn’t that ignorant carpenter realize what an honor it was to be among great teachers and philosophers? Apparently not, because he had behaved like an ill-mannered oaf. And now just look at the winners he’s having dinner with tonight…
Now the tax collectors and "sinners" were all gathering around to hear him. But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law muttered, "This man welcomes sinners and eats with them." (Luke 15: 1 – 2)
Good religious people would have never been seen with the motley crew that had assembled around Jesus, let alone eat with them! A tax-collector was a traitor, after all. And sinners weren’t just guilty of breaking the moral law—they had no regard whatsoever for ritual purity either. If you risked sharing a corner booth at Applebee’s with this bunch of lowlifes, chances are you’d end up consuming some “untithed food.” To the Pharisees, Jesus was doing something completely irresponsible for someone who claimed to be so godly: by sharing a table with those kinds of people, he was demonstrating that he accepted them. And that was a crazy thing to imply—there was even a popular saying in those days that went there will be joy in heaven over one sinner who is obliterated before God.
In response to their grumblings, Jesus sets down his cheeseburger and tells them a few stories about things that are lost and things that are found.
Then Jesus told them this parable: "Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Does he not leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, 'Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.' I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent. (Luke 15: 3 – 7)
Some parables are easier to figure out than others. This is one of the easy ones. The Shepherd is God, the lost sheep is a person who has a spiritual awakening, and the friends and neighbors are God’s people. But don’t let the parable’s simplicity throw you—this short little story conveyed a Copernican shift in the understanding of God’s nature to the people listening.
Even if the religious elite bickered about just what exactly constituted repentance, they did have a concept of God’s forgiveness for the repentant. But Jesus talked about a God who wasn’t content to sit around and wait for the repentant to come groveling to him—he diligently sought out the lost to bring them into his kingdom! Just in case they don’t get it, he takes a swig of Mountain Dew and then sort of repeats himself:
"Or suppose a woman has ten silver coins and loses one. Does she not light a lamp, sweep the house and search carefully until she finds it? And when she finds it, she calls her friends and neighbors together and says, 'Rejoice with me; I have found my lost coin.' In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” (Luke 15: 8 – 10)
It makes perfect sense that a poor woman is going to look for some misplaced money, just as it’s easy to comprehend why a shepherd would search for a helpless lamb. But the most religious people of all were completely perplexed as to why Jesus would break bread with some people who had become lost in the shuffle of life. The Pharisees’ piousness had become a barrier that separated them from the very people who were in the most desperate need of finding God.
There are as many different ways of being lost as there are people. Just like a sheep, some people wander away through simple ignorance. Others are like the coin that goes astray through the carelessness of others. But in the end it doesn’t really matter where a person went adrift or what the circumstances were that set them upon that course. What’s important is that God hasn’t given up on them.
A flock isn’t whole when there’s even one sheep missing. A person isn’t financially secure when she’s missing a coin. And God’s kingdom isn’t complete while there are still missing persons.
But the loss isn’t really something that you measure by numbers, because how could you ever count the tears shed or the number of sleepless nights experienced by anguished families, desperate for a glimpse of a loved one who has, for all intents and purposes, simply vanished? Missing persons. There’s something about the very nature of that kind of loss with which we can all empathize.
A month ago very few people in Jamestown had ever heard the name Yolanda Bindics, but she’s on all our minds very much these days. Our thoughts and prayers go out to her and her children. Even the most cynical among us hope that our darkest suspicions or fears will be proven wrong, that the whole thing will turn out to be some simple misunderstanding. Imagine the joy that would spill over this town.
Can it really be true that 800,000 people are nowhere to be found? And if it’s really possible that children, mothers, brothers and friends from anywhere can go missing, is it possible that I can be lost?
The religious elite thought Jesus had lost his mind. It was the only explanation for what they saw before them. Yesterday Jesus had been a guest at their banquet—didn’t that ignorant carpenter realize what an honor it was to be among great teachers and philosophers? Apparently not, because he had behaved like an ill-mannered oaf. And now just look at the winners he’s having dinner with tonight…
Now the tax collectors and "sinners" were all gathering around to hear him. But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law muttered, "This man welcomes sinners and eats with them." (Luke 15: 1 – 2)
Good religious people would have never been seen with the motley crew that had assembled around Jesus, let alone eat with them! A tax-collector was a traitor, after all. And sinners weren’t just guilty of breaking the moral law—they had no regard whatsoever for ritual purity either. If you risked sharing a corner booth at Applebee’s with this bunch of lowlifes, chances are you’d end up consuming some “untithed food.” To the Pharisees, Jesus was doing something completely irresponsible for someone who claimed to be so godly: by sharing a table with those kinds of people, he was demonstrating that he accepted them. And that was a crazy thing to imply—there was even a popular saying in those days that went there will be joy in heaven over one sinner who is obliterated before God.
In response to their grumblings, Jesus sets down his cheeseburger and tells them a few stories about things that are lost and things that are found.
Then Jesus told them this parable: "Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Does he not leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, 'Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.' I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent. (Luke 15: 3 – 7)
Some parables are easier to figure out than others. This is one of the easy ones. The Shepherd is God, the lost sheep is a person who has a spiritual awakening, and the friends and neighbors are God’s people. But don’t let the parable’s simplicity throw you—this short little story conveyed a Copernican shift in the understanding of God’s nature to the people listening.
Even if the religious elite bickered about just what exactly constituted repentance, they did have a concept of God’s forgiveness for the repentant. But Jesus talked about a God who wasn’t content to sit around and wait for the repentant to come groveling to him—he diligently sought out the lost to bring them into his kingdom! Just in case they don’t get it, he takes a swig of Mountain Dew and then sort of repeats himself:
"Or suppose a woman has ten silver coins and loses one. Does she not light a lamp, sweep the house and search carefully until she finds it? And when she finds it, she calls her friends and neighbors together and says, 'Rejoice with me; I have found my lost coin.' In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” (Luke 15: 8 – 10)
It makes perfect sense that a poor woman is going to look for some misplaced money, just as it’s easy to comprehend why a shepherd would search for a helpless lamb. But the most religious people of all were completely perplexed as to why Jesus would break bread with some people who had become lost in the shuffle of life. The Pharisees’ piousness had become a barrier that separated them from the very people who were in the most desperate need of finding God.
There are as many different ways of being lost as there are people. Just like a sheep, some people wander away through simple ignorance. Others are like the coin that goes astray through the carelessness of others. But in the end it doesn’t really matter where a person went adrift or what the circumstances were that set them upon that course. What’s important is that God hasn’t given up on them.
A flock isn’t whole when there’s even one sheep missing. A person isn’t financially secure when she’s missing a coin. And God’s kingdom isn’t complete while there are still missing persons.
Wednesday, September 08, 2004
Quote of the Week: Making an impression...
"Stop trying to impress people with your clothes and impress them with your life." -- Richard J. Foster in his book The Freedom of Simplicity
Tuesday, September 07, 2004
Monsters! Cowboys! How Can You Miss?
First-time visitors to Experiment House are always impressed with my large DVD collection. At least, that is, until they get a look at most of the titles, which include:
The Thing With 2 Heads
The Giant Gila Monster
The Killer Shrews
The Abominable Doctor Phibes
Frankenstein Created Woman
While many of our guests are shelling out big bucks for another pointless "two disc special edition" of the latest Hollywood blockbuster, I can spend the same exact money and get two or four pictures from the drive-in era of yesteryear. So although it appears that I’ve put a lien on the house to fill my DVD shelf, that just isn’t the case. I just spend a lot of time slumming it at the $5 bin at Wal-Mart. Where I scored a copy of Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell, by the way!
With everyone else on a shopping excursion this afternoon I popped one of my favorite bad movies in the DVD player: Jesse James Meets Frankenstein’s Daughter. As you have probably gathered from the title, it’s a part of the James Gang’s story that usually doesn’t make the cut in documentaries on The History Channel.
The title alone is a classic. It sounds more like a parody of a horror film that would have appeared in something like Mad Magazine when it was still funny (meaning not in the last 25 years). But I imagine that the concept sounded pretty promising when this film was made in 1965, given the number of westerns that were glutting the TV airwaves and the popularity of monster magazines and toys on the market at the time. I can imagine a cigar-chomping mogul at “Circle Productions” slapping his head and exclaiming, “Cowboys and Monsters together would be dynamite!!!”
The movie looks and sounds like an old episode of The Cisco Kid, only with lower production values. All the hallmarks of the low-budget film are in evidence, including atrocious day-for-night scenes, actors who stumble on their lines but still make the final edit, and overbearing stock music. My favorite parts were:
The plot, such as it is, concerns Frankenstein’s (grand)daughter's attempts to create a monster for no discernable purpose. She experiments on a guy by putting him in a rainbow-striped helmet with neon tubes and a telsa coil sticking out of it. The 98 lb. weakling pretty much dies instantly. She decides that she needs a stronger body to work with, and into the movie strolls Hank, a member of the James Gang, who is as strong as an ox and unfortunately as dumb as one. That’s the first five minutes. Add in an Indian attack, some gunfights, and the requisite stock western characters and you can probably imagine the rest of the film yourself. Heck, you probably just imagined a much more interesting film that this one.
In its original release it was a double feature with Billy the Kid Versus Dracula. Fortunately the films did poorly enough at the box office that movie going audiences were spared Buffalo Bill Versus The Hunchback of Notre Dame or Annie Oakley Meets The Phantom of The Opera.
The Thing With 2 Heads
The Giant Gila Monster
The Killer Shrews
The Abominable Doctor Phibes
Frankenstein Created Woman
While many of our guests are shelling out big bucks for another pointless "two disc special edition" of the latest Hollywood blockbuster, I can spend the same exact money and get two or four pictures from the drive-in era of yesteryear. So although it appears that I’ve put a lien on the house to fill my DVD shelf, that just isn’t the case. I just spend a lot of time slumming it at the $5 bin at Wal-Mart. Where I scored a copy of Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell, by the way!
With everyone else on a shopping excursion this afternoon I popped one of my favorite bad movies in the DVD player: Jesse James Meets Frankenstein’s Daughter. As you have probably gathered from the title, it’s a part of the James Gang’s story that usually doesn’t make the cut in documentaries on The History Channel.
The title alone is a classic. It sounds more like a parody of a horror film that would have appeared in something like Mad Magazine when it was still funny (meaning not in the last 25 years). But I imagine that the concept sounded pretty promising when this film was made in 1965, given the number of westerns that were glutting the TV airwaves and the popularity of monster magazines and toys on the market at the time. I can imagine a cigar-chomping mogul at “Circle Productions” slapping his head and exclaiming, “Cowboys and Monsters together would be dynamite!!!”
The movie looks and sounds like an old episode of The Cisco Kid, only with lower production values. All the hallmarks of the low-budget film are in evidence, including atrocious day-for-night scenes, actors who stumble on their lines but still make the final edit, and overbearing stock music. My favorite parts were:
- The inability of the thunder sound effect to be in sync with the lightening.
- Acting so wooden the director could have just dressed up logs in cowboy hats.
- The exterior of Frankenstein’s Castle represented not by a model or even a matte painting, but by a watercolor. And a not-so-great one at that. I'm talkin' paint-by-numbers here!
- An eye-rolling performance by Narda Onyx, who plays Dr. Maria Frankenstein.
The plot, such as it is, concerns Frankenstein’s (grand)daughter's attempts to create a monster for no discernable purpose. She experiments on a guy by putting him in a rainbow-striped helmet with neon tubes and a telsa coil sticking out of it. The 98 lb. weakling pretty much dies instantly. She decides that she needs a stronger body to work with, and into the movie strolls Hank, a member of the James Gang, who is as strong as an ox and unfortunately as dumb as one. That’s the first five minutes. Add in an Indian attack, some gunfights, and the requisite stock western characters and you can probably imagine the rest of the film yourself. Heck, you probably just imagined a much more interesting film that this one.
In its original release it was a double feature with Billy the Kid Versus Dracula. Fortunately the films did poorly enough at the box office that movie going audiences were spared Buffalo Bill Versus The Hunchback of Notre Dame or Annie Oakley Meets The Phantom of The Opera.
Monday, September 06, 2004
That Was The Summer That Was -- Summer 2004
It seems like I was just blogging about how I couldn't believe it was Memorial Day and here it is already Labor Day. The trees are more aware of the calendar than I am -- as we drove home late last night from my mom's house we noticed that fallen leaves were already swirling around the streets of Warren. If that's not enough to convince you that summer is over, today we're driving back to my mom's house to help her take down the swimming pool.
The summer began with me acting in an official capacity for the church. I participated in the parade and Memorial Day ceremonies for Jamestown, NY. Sometimes I think I'm the most untraditional pastor in the whole city, so it was kind of surreal to find myself sitting in a classic car waving at the people lining the streets.
Lamont and I had one of our busiest weekends ever in June. Our denomination does a huge youth retreat every summer and we took a big group of teens from our church. It was a really positive weekend for the kids, and Lamont and I were very proud of the fact that we were able to not just convince "church kids" to participate, but also some young people that we became acquainted with via some social work.
We had no sooner said our amens at the Sunday morning meeting when we had to saddle up our rapidly-dying Neon and drive over a hundred miles to our graduation from Empire State College. We barely made it because we missed a turn and got ourselves lost. I'm not big on ceremony -- as any of my parishioners will readily attest -- and a busy weekend chaperoning youth seemed like as good an excuse as any to miss graduation. But in the end I was so glad I went. Even though I had already received my diploma in the mail, I didn't really have a sense of closure until I put on the robe and walked across the stage.
Our afternoon with Empire State College was only the first of many graduations that we marked in the month of June. We had two celebrations for the price of one during our week spent in New Jersey. One of parishioners graduated from a school of youth ministry, another was ordained as a pastor. Although things have been quite crazy as of late, Lamont and I consoled ourselves that our church must be doing something right, because neither of the graduates grew up in church or came from families that were particularly religious.
The end of the month saw four members of our church graduate from high school. It just doesn't seem possible -- it seems like yesterday that they were all timid little kids tiptoeing around the "big kids" in youth group. Now they're adults.
In between carting kids back and forth to camping sessions, we were able to sneak in a week of vacation together. It was nice -- sometimes you don't realize how much you need a break until you stop. Highlights included Old Fort Niagara, The Castellani Art Museum, and Genesee County Village and Museum.
Mr. X finally returned from his four-year stint with Wings Over the World. It was great to hang out together for most of July and August before he moved away to college, a whole hour away!!!
The end of July found Lamont and I at the retirement party for our beloved college mentor. P-- was an amazing instructor in a college known for its excellence in teaching, and we can't imagine what our education would have been like without her. Our prayers go with her as she goes on to write the Great American Novel.
The highlight of August was Teen Camp in Penn Yan, NY. Gathering a group of 90 teens in the middle of nowhere for five days without cable TV sounds like a recipe for disaster, but God made it so much more than that. People always say that the teenage years are the best years of a person's life, but I will contend to my dying day that young people are some of the busiest, most stressed-out people on the planet. Think about it:
It's not so much that the Experiment House crew were these spiritual giants that broke through to the young people as much as the five days of camp allowed them to stop and catch their collective breaths for a few days! The older I get the more convinced I am that God sneaks in while we're exhaling! I'm happy to be a small part of the camp's success.
Oh yeah, we finally replaced the Neon with a Toyata Matrix. Talk about trading up.
Summer 2004. That was the summer that was. Here's to fall!
The summer began with me acting in an official capacity for the church. I participated in the parade and Memorial Day ceremonies for Jamestown, NY. Sometimes I think I'm the most untraditional pastor in the whole city, so it was kind of surreal to find myself sitting in a classic car waving at the people lining the streets.
Lamont and I had one of our busiest weekends ever in June. Our denomination does a huge youth retreat every summer and we took a big group of teens from our church. It was a really positive weekend for the kids, and Lamont and I were very proud of the fact that we were able to not just convince "church kids" to participate, but also some young people that we became acquainted with via some social work.
We had no sooner said our amens at the Sunday morning meeting when we had to saddle up our rapidly-dying Neon and drive over a hundred miles to our graduation from Empire State College. We barely made it because we missed a turn and got ourselves lost. I'm not big on ceremony -- as any of my parishioners will readily attest -- and a busy weekend chaperoning youth seemed like as good an excuse as any to miss graduation. But in the end I was so glad I went. Even though I had already received my diploma in the mail, I didn't really have a sense of closure until I put on the robe and walked across the stage.
Our afternoon with Empire State College was only the first of many graduations that we marked in the month of June. We had two celebrations for the price of one during our week spent in New Jersey. One of parishioners graduated from a school of youth ministry, another was ordained as a pastor. Although things have been quite crazy as of late, Lamont and I consoled ourselves that our church must be doing something right, because neither of the graduates grew up in church or came from families that were particularly religious.
The end of the month saw four members of our church graduate from high school. It just doesn't seem possible -- it seems like yesterday that they were all timid little kids tiptoeing around the "big kids" in youth group. Now they're adults.
In between carting kids back and forth to camping sessions, we were able to sneak in a week of vacation together. It was nice -- sometimes you don't realize how much you need a break until you stop. Highlights included Old Fort Niagara, The Castellani Art Museum, and Genesee County Village and Museum.
Mr. X finally returned from his four-year stint with Wings Over the World. It was great to hang out together for most of July and August before he moved away to college, a whole hour away!!!
The end of July found Lamont and I at the retirement party for our beloved college mentor. P-- was an amazing instructor in a college known for its excellence in teaching, and we can't imagine what our education would have been like without her. Our prayers go with her as she goes on to write the Great American Novel.
The highlight of August was Teen Camp in Penn Yan, NY. Gathering a group of 90 teens in the middle of nowhere for five days without cable TV sounds like a recipe for disaster, but God made it so much more than that. People always say that the teenage years are the best years of a person's life, but I will contend to my dying day that young people are some of the busiest, most stressed-out people on the planet. Think about it:
- They have to maintain good performance in school
- They work
- They volunteer
- They participate in extracurricular activities
- They maintain an active social life
- They are at a point where they have to make big decisions (school, dating, etc.) that will have a huge impact on who they will become
It's not so much that the Experiment House crew were these spiritual giants that broke through to the young people as much as the five days of camp allowed them to stop and catch their collective breaths for a few days! The older I get the more convinced I am that God sneaks in while we're exhaling! I'm happy to be a small part of the camp's success.
Oh yeah, we finally replaced the Neon with a Toyata Matrix. Talk about trading up.
Summer 2004. That was the summer that was. Here's to fall!
Saturday, September 04, 2004
Made-For-TV Madness
When I talk horror films with other enthusiasts I always feel the need to point out that my interest in the genre wanes after the early seventies, when Christopher Lee hung up his cape and Leatherface picked up his chainsaw. Give me a Hammer or Universal film any day -- I wouldn't stop channel surfing for a moment to pause on Linda Blair puking green bile. I'd rather sit through the worst fifties movie that the gang at MST3K could dish up versus Jason hacking up camp counselors because they weren't virgins. (What's up with that recurring theme in slasher flicks anyhow?)
Although antichrists and psychotics crowded vampires and werewolves off of movie marquees seemingly overnight, any true-blue horror fan knows that no true monster stays dead forever. Instead the real fun horror made it to television in the 1970s. And thanks to the space-age miracle of the digital video disc, I can cook me up a Tony's pizza, put on a pair of corduroys, warm up the cathode ray tube and -- viola -- it's the age of sideburns and Watergate all over again.
I walked into my local Best Buy the other day fully intending to buy one of their exclusive Midnite Movies Double Features, but found myself at the checkout line instead with a double-shot of Darren McGavin. The Night Stalker/The Night Strangler were two highly rated TV Movies of the Week that were precursors to the show Kolchak: The Night Stalker.
I still scan the Sci-Fi Channel listings for the odd screening of the classic monster-of-the-week show. Although the series is still fondly remembered by baby boomers today, I have to admit that the TV movies just do the concept much better justice. In The Night Stalker, Carl Kolchak is a down-on-his-luck newspaper reporter who comes across a vampire in contemporary Las Vegas. In The Night Strangler, he matches wits with a century and a half old murderer in the underground ruins of Seattle.
The movies look gorgeous on DVD, especially considering their low-budget origins. Both films have their share of shocks, and Darren McGavin, playing the perpetual underdog, brings a fun sense of humor to the whole thing. Some of his lines were so funny that I almost squirted milk out my nose, which should give you an indication as to how hilarious they were because I wasn't even drinking milk at the time. Considering the double feature only set me back $9.99 at Best Buy, I feel pretty safe in recommending it to any horror fan.
Next up is a journey not only into sight and sound, but of mind... Er, well, almost. The Night Gallery (1970 - 1973) was Rod Serling's follow-up to The Twilight Zone. Season One -- plus the 1969 pilot movie -- is now out on DVD. I've enjoyed browsing through the gallery again, reliving so many nightmares of my childhood: dead men crawling out of graves... a killer doll... and strange paintings. I was pretty young when this show originally aired, so I'm amazed that I remember so much of it.
This is going to sound really weird, but the seventies setting really works against the show. Even though he says submitted for your approval just like he did in Twilight Zone, I just couldn't quite get used to seeing Rod Serling in living color, with sideburns and a groovy hairdo. It's the same feeling you get when you run into a coworker outside of the workplace, and they're wearing a pair of ratty jeans and a Rush t-shirt. I just couldn't shake the feeling that Rod had accidentally wandered into The Twilight Zone by accident on his day off.
One episode in particular suffers from seventies-itis... "They're Tearing Down Old Riley's Bar" is a gentle fantasy that would have been one of the classic black and white Twilight Zones. Touching story. Great acting. But I found it hard to take the dramatics seriously when they were delivered by a guy wearing a giant wide tie to a girl in a polka-dot mini dress. Sometimes the scariest thing about Night Gallery is the clothes! It got me thinking -- were all clothes in the seventies that ugly? Browsing through my childhood photos, I'd have to say YES!
My verdict? I'd pay my admission to the Night Gallery just for the nostalgia value alone. That said, while the show delivers some great moments, it's a little too inconsistent in quality compared to its big brother to win many new fans. But people wanting to relive their childhood should have no trouble shelling out the $40-$50 bucks to own the series on DVD.
The fun horror celebrated by magazines like Famous Monsters of Filmland didn't completely die out in the seventies. It just moved to the boob tube. I think I need to make another shopping excursion to Best Buy. I'll pass right by the axe-wielding psychopaths and demon-possessed killers. (But enough about the clerks...) I'll dig through the shelves to see if I can find some more made-for-TV madness like Gargoyles, Trilogy of Terror or Don't Be Afraid of The Dark!
Although antichrists and psychotics crowded vampires and werewolves off of movie marquees seemingly overnight, any true-blue horror fan knows that no true monster stays dead forever. Instead the real fun horror made it to television in the 1970s. And thanks to the space-age miracle of the digital video disc, I can cook me up a Tony's pizza, put on a pair of corduroys, warm up the cathode ray tube and -- viola -- it's the age of sideburns and Watergate all over again.
I walked into my local Best Buy the other day fully intending to buy one of their exclusive Midnite Movies Double Features, but found myself at the checkout line instead with a double-shot of Darren McGavin. The Night Stalker/The Night Strangler were two highly rated TV Movies of the Week that were precursors to the show Kolchak: The Night Stalker.
I still scan the Sci-Fi Channel listings for the odd screening of the classic monster-of-the-week show. Although the series is still fondly remembered by baby boomers today, I have to admit that the TV movies just do the concept much better justice. In The Night Stalker, Carl Kolchak is a down-on-his-luck newspaper reporter who comes across a vampire in contemporary Las Vegas. In The Night Strangler, he matches wits with a century and a half old murderer in the underground ruins of Seattle.
The movies look gorgeous on DVD, especially considering their low-budget origins. Both films have their share of shocks, and Darren McGavin, playing the perpetual underdog, brings a fun sense of humor to the whole thing. Some of his lines were so funny that I almost squirted milk out my nose, which should give you an indication as to how hilarious they were because I wasn't even drinking milk at the time. Considering the double feature only set me back $9.99 at Best Buy, I feel pretty safe in recommending it to any horror fan.
Next up is a journey not only into sight and sound, but of mind... Er, well, almost. The Night Gallery (1970 - 1973) was Rod Serling's follow-up to The Twilight Zone. Season One -- plus the 1969 pilot movie -- is now out on DVD. I've enjoyed browsing through the gallery again, reliving so many nightmares of my childhood: dead men crawling out of graves... a killer doll... and strange paintings. I was pretty young when this show originally aired, so I'm amazed that I remember so much of it.
This is going to sound really weird, but the seventies setting really works against the show. Even though he says submitted for your approval just like he did in Twilight Zone, I just couldn't quite get used to seeing Rod Serling in living color, with sideburns and a groovy hairdo. It's the same feeling you get when you run into a coworker outside of the workplace, and they're wearing a pair of ratty jeans and a Rush t-shirt. I just couldn't shake the feeling that Rod had accidentally wandered into The Twilight Zone by accident on his day off.
One episode in particular suffers from seventies-itis... "They're Tearing Down Old Riley's Bar" is a gentle fantasy that would have been one of the classic black and white Twilight Zones. Touching story. Great acting. But I found it hard to take the dramatics seriously when they were delivered by a guy wearing a giant wide tie to a girl in a polka-dot mini dress. Sometimes the scariest thing about Night Gallery is the clothes! It got me thinking -- were all clothes in the seventies that ugly? Browsing through my childhood photos, I'd have to say YES!
My verdict? I'd pay my admission to the Night Gallery just for the nostalgia value alone. That said, while the show delivers some great moments, it's a little too inconsistent in quality compared to its big brother to win many new fans. But people wanting to relive their childhood should have no trouble shelling out the $40-$50 bucks to own the series on DVD.
The fun horror celebrated by magazines like Famous Monsters of Filmland didn't completely die out in the seventies. It just moved to the boob tube. I think I need to make another shopping excursion to Best Buy. I'll pass right by the axe-wielding psychopaths and demon-possessed killers. (But enough about the clerks...) I'll dig through the shelves to see if I can find some more made-for-TV madness like Gargoyles, Trilogy of Terror or Don't Be Afraid of The Dark!
Friday, September 03, 2004
Today is September 3
I just had something very peculiar happen to me. Have you ever typed your name into the internet just to see what links pop up? I did that this morning. My web page came up, as expected, and also an interview I did a few years ago for a college newspaper. But another result came up that I had never seen before -- a link to a genealogy website.
It was my dad's obituary.
As I read down the obituary, I noticed that he passed away on September 3, 2001 -- exactly three years ago to this day. I'm no mathematician, but I'd venture to say that the odds of this happening are pretty astronomical.
Wow. Three years. I can't believe it's been that long. Do you know that every time I see a red truck drive up our street I still -- just for a moment -- think that it's him coming over to play with the kids?
I miss ya too, dad. I never knew you were so internet savvy.
It was my dad's obituary.
As I read down the obituary, I noticed that he passed away on September 3, 2001 -- exactly three years ago to this day. I'm no mathematician, but I'd venture to say that the odds of this happening are pretty astronomical.
Wow. Three years. I can't believe it's been that long. Do you know that every time I see a red truck drive up our street I still -- just for a moment -- think that it's him coming over to play with the kids?
I miss ya too, dad. I never knew you were so internet savvy.
Thursday, September 02, 2004
Read the Fine Print
A vacation should create many happy memories, and usually they do. Even if an afternoon goes a little wrong — let’s say a horrendously bad restaurant — it can become one of those stories that’s funny in retrospect, and therefore still a fairly happy memory. A coworker of mine had an experience that no matter how he looks at it will ever be looked at as a happy memory. In fact, this one experience was so awful, that it forever overshadows the good memories of that vacation.
He had decided to go on a cruise, but he didn’t have a lot of money to spend. He wasn’t encouraged as collected price quotes from different travel agents. But one day he was looking through a travel magazine and came across an ad that was offering cruises for fifty-percent less than the cheapest price he had found. So he booked his cruise and went on vacation.
The weather was beautiful. The food was excellent. He had a nice room. In fact, the vacation itself was exemplary until the very moment that he collected his luggage and was going to disembark. This is otherwise known as the moment he discovered the difference between a cruise and an all-inclusive cruise. In an all-inclusive cruise, he would have paid one price upfront before he ever left home. Instead, he found out at the end he owed a few hundred bucks in port charges (that’s a tax that’s levied every time your boat goes into a harbor). He also didn’t realize that it’s expected to tip the steward, the waiter, and the bus boy each about ten dollars a day.
My friend did eventually make it back on dry land, albeit a thousand bucks lighter. So you can understand why he breaks out into a cold sweat every time a rerun of The Love Boat comes on TV Land. The cruise was enjoyable enough; it just cost him a lot more in the end than he thought it would. His trip is a living illustration of the expression If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.
Jesus’ speaking tour has been a huge success. His message of second chances and compassion for the needy has really connected with a demographic that isn’t usually too interested in religion! Standing room only venues… The cover of Time Magazine… He even made the Wired list – they moved John the Baptist to Tired… They put his face on some Jesus is My Homeboy t-shirts. The establishment doesn’t seem too happy with ‘em, but then again, when was the last time the establishment did anything for you? While they’re spending time kissing up to Rome, Jesus is making blind men see, lame people straight, and demon-possessed people free.
Everybody wants to follow this guy. But what they don’t realize is that they’re following a man straight to his execution.
Large crowds were traveling with Jesus, and turning to them he said: "If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters -- yes, even his own life -- he cannot be my disciple. And anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. (Luke 14: 25 – 27)
Jesus was a carpenter, but personally, I think he would have made an excellent mechanic. He’s not the type to lure you in with a promise of a $12.95 oil change only to tell you that your brakes need replaced. Jesus’ teachings and acts of compassion were the best things that hit that enemy-occupied country in a long time. And people wanted to hang onto him with all their might. But Jesus knew that all too often the dark forces of this world rush in to snuff out whatever rare candle gets to burning. And he wants them to know upfront what they’re really getting themselves into.
Hate his father and mother. What do you suppose he meant by that? It can’t be that he’s suggesting that loyalty to him allows us to be cruel to our family, because Jesus’ ministry was one of compassion. In fact, there’s a story recorded in the Gospel of Saint Mark (chapter 7) where Jesus condemns a practice where a person could donate money or property to the temple and then neglect supporting his parents in their old age. We need to honor our parents. Jesus is using the word hate in an exaggerated way to get his point across, just like in the Sermon on the Mount when he says if your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out or if your hand causes you to sin, cut it off.
What he means by the word hate is love less. Some people’s family lives are better than others. Some family bonds are strong, others are tattered. In Israel, family was everything – it was the greatest source of pride – and a person’s loyalty to it was unwavering. Through thick and thin, right or wrong, a person stood with their family. And Jesus says you need that kind of loyalty and then some if you’re ever gonna learn anything from me.
In fact, an uncompromising commitment to following Jesus must be more important to a disciple than his own self-interest and even his own instinct of self-preservation.
I was so ripped at somebody the other day at work. I knew this person needed my help, so I decided that I was going to be as obstinate as possible. But then I remembered that I needed to forgive as the Lord forgave me. So I got off my butt and helped them. So if my grudge gets in the way of following Jesus, the grudge has to go. Whatever it is that gets between me and intimacy with Christ has to go.
"Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Will he not first sit down and estimate the cost to see if he has enough money to complete it? For if he lays the foundation and is not able to finish it, everyone who sees it will ridicule him, saying, 'This fellow began to build and was not able to finish.' (Luke 14: 28 – 30)
Let’s say you want to fix something up around the house. So you don’t plan anything for Saturday morning, you just go pick up what you need at the hardware store and you get working. You know how it goes, right? Sunday night at 10 ‘o clock you’re still messing around with the project and you’ve had to run to the hardware store three times to pick up more stuff! It’s always going to cost more and take more time than you think it will.
Faith in Christ isn’t a one-time event; Faith in Christ is a daily journey. Some days it’s a wonderful journey, and the winds at my back, and I feel like I can run the whole way straight to heaven. The sky grows dark on other days, and the journey is punishing, the hills almost impossible to climb. That’s why I so appreciate Jesus’ frankness in saying that it’s not always going to be easy, because sometimes the only thing that keeps me trudging on is my stubborn commitment that I’m in this with Jesus for the long haul.
"Or suppose a king is about to go to war against another king. Will he not first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand men to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand? If he is not able, he will send a delegation while the other is still a long way off and will ask for terms of peace. In the same way, any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple. (Luke 14: 31 – 33)
Pastor David Guzik writes, “In the parable of the tower, Jesus says ‘sit down and see if you can afford to follow me. In the parable of the king, Jesus says ‘sit down and see if you can afford to refuse my demands.’”
Back in the seventies there was a Broadway musical called Your Arm's Too Short to Box With God. What a true statement. He must conquer all to set us truly free. But I’m happy to say from experience that Christ offers highly favorable terms of surrender!
University of Southern California philosphy professor Dallas Willard writes:
In 1937 Dietrich Bonhoeffer gave the world his book The Cost of Discipleship. It was a masterful attack on "easy Christianity" or "cheap grace," but it did not set aside-perhaps it even enforced-the view of discipleship as a costly spiritual excess, and only for those especially driven or called to it. It was right to point out that one cannot be a disciple of Christ without forfeiting things normally sought in human life, and that one who pays little in the world's coinage to bear his name has reason to wonder where he or she stands with God. But the cost of nondiscipleship is far greater -- even when this life alone is considered -- than the price paid to walk with Jesus.
Nondiscipleship costs abiding peace, a life penetrated throughout by love, faith that sees everything in IIw light of God's overriding governance for good, hopefulness that stands firm in the most discouraging of circumstances, power to do what is right and withstand the forces of evil. In short, it costs exactly that abundance of life Jesus said he came to bring (John 10:10). The cross-shaped yoke of Christ is after all an instrument of liberation and power to those who live in it with him and learn the meekness and lowliness of heart that brings rest to the soul. . . . The correct perspective is to see following Christ not only as the necessity it is, but as the fulfillment of the highest human possibilities and as life on the highest plane.
He had decided to go on a cruise, but he didn’t have a lot of money to spend. He wasn’t encouraged as collected price quotes from different travel agents. But one day he was looking through a travel magazine and came across an ad that was offering cruises for fifty-percent less than the cheapest price he had found. So he booked his cruise and went on vacation.
The weather was beautiful. The food was excellent. He had a nice room. In fact, the vacation itself was exemplary until the very moment that he collected his luggage and was going to disembark. This is otherwise known as the moment he discovered the difference between a cruise and an all-inclusive cruise. In an all-inclusive cruise, he would have paid one price upfront before he ever left home. Instead, he found out at the end he owed a few hundred bucks in port charges (that’s a tax that’s levied every time your boat goes into a harbor). He also didn’t realize that it’s expected to tip the steward, the waiter, and the bus boy each about ten dollars a day.
My friend did eventually make it back on dry land, albeit a thousand bucks lighter. So you can understand why he breaks out into a cold sweat every time a rerun of The Love Boat comes on TV Land. The cruise was enjoyable enough; it just cost him a lot more in the end than he thought it would. His trip is a living illustration of the expression If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.
Jesus’ speaking tour has been a huge success. His message of second chances and compassion for the needy has really connected with a demographic that isn’t usually too interested in religion! Standing room only venues… The cover of Time Magazine… He even made the Wired list – they moved John the Baptist to Tired… They put his face on some Jesus is My Homeboy t-shirts. The establishment doesn’t seem too happy with ‘em, but then again, when was the last time the establishment did anything for you? While they’re spending time kissing up to Rome, Jesus is making blind men see, lame people straight, and demon-possessed people free.
Everybody wants to follow this guy. But what they don’t realize is that they’re following a man straight to his execution.
Large crowds were traveling with Jesus, and turning to them he said: "If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters -- yes, even his own life -- he cannot be my disciple. And anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. (Luke 14: 25 – 27)
Jesus was a carpenter, but personally, I think he would have made an excellent mechanic. He’s not the type to lure you in with a promise of a $12.95 oil change only to tell you that your brakes need replaced. Jesus’ teachings and acts of compassion were the best things that hit that enemy-occupied country in a long time. And people wanted to hang onto him with all their might. But Jesus knew that all too often the dark forces of this world rush in to snuff out whatever rare candle gets to burning. And he wants them to know upfront what they’re really getting themselves into.
Hate his father and mother. What do you suppose he meant by that? It can’t be that he’s suggesting that loyalty to him allows us to be cruel to our family, because Jesus’ ministry was one of compassion. In fact, there’s a story recorded in the Gospel of Saint Mark (chapter 7) where Jesus condemns a practice where a person could donate money or property to the temple and then neglect supporting his parents in their old age. We need to honor our parents. Jesus is using the word hate in an exaggerated way to get his point across, just like in the Sermon on the Mount when he says if your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out or if your hand causes you to sin, cut it off.
What he means by the word hate is love less. Some people’s family lives are better than others. Some family bonds are strong, others are tattered. In Israel, family was everything – it was the greatest source of pride – and a person’s loyalty to it was unwavering. Through thick and thin, right or wrong, a person stood with their family. And Jesus says you need that kind of loyalty and then some if you’re ever gonna learn anything from me.
In fact, an uncompromising commitment to following Jesus must be more important to a disciple than his own self-interest and even his own instinct of self-preservation.
I was so ripped at somebody the other day at work. I knew this person needed my help, so I decided that I was going to be as obstinate as possible. But then I remembered that I needed to forgive as the Lord forgave me. So I got off my butt and helped them. So if my grudge gets in the way of following Jesus, the grudge has to go. Whatever it is that gets between me and intimacy with Christ has to go.
"Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Will he not first sit down and estimate the cost to see if he has enough money to complete it? For if he lays the foundation and is not able to finish it, everyone who sees it will ridicule him, saying, 'This fellow began to build and was not able to finish.' (Luke 14: 28 – 30)
Let’s say you want to fix something up around the house. So you don’t plan anything for Saturday morning, you just go pick up what you need at the hardware store and you get working. You know how it goes, right? Sunday night at 10 ‘o clock you’re still messing around with the project and you’ve had to run to the hardware store three times to pick up more stuff! It’s always going to cost more and take more time than you think it will.
Faith in Christ isn’t a one-time event; Faith in Christ is a daily journey. Some days it’s a wonderful journey, and the winds at my back, and I feel like I can run the whole way straight to heaven. The sky grows dark on other days, and the journey is punishing, the hills almost impossible to climb. That’s why I so appreciate Jesus’ frankness in saying that it’s not always going to be easy, because sometimes the only thing that keeps me trudging on is my stubborn commitment that I’m in this with Jesus for the long haul.
"Or suppose a king is about to go to war against another king. Will he not first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand men to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand? If he is not able, he will send a delegation while the other is still a long way off and will ask for terms of peace. In the same way, any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple. (Luke 14: 31 – 33)
Pastor David Guzik writes, “In the parable of the tower, Jesus says ‘sit down and see if you can afford to follow me. In the parable of the king, Jesus says ‘sit down and see if you can afford to refuse my demands.’”
Back in the seventies there was a Broadway musical called Your Arm's Too Short to Box With God. What a true statement. He must conquer all to set us truly free. But I’m happy to say from experience that Christ offers highly favorable terms of surrender!
University of Southern California philosphy professor Dallas Willard writes:
In 1937 Dietrich Bonhoeffer gave the world his book The Cost of Discipleship. It was a masterful attack on "easy Christianity" or "cheap grace," but it did not set aside-perhaps it even enforced-the view of discipleship as a costly spiritual excess, and only for those especially driven or called to it. It was right to point out that one cannot be a disciple of Christ without forfeiting things normally sought in human life, and that one who pays little in the world's coinage to bear his name has reason to wonder where he or she stands with God. But the cost of nondiscipleship is far greater -- even when this life alone is considered -- than the price paid to walk with Jesus.
Nondiscipleship costs abiding peace, a life penetrated throughout by love, faith that sees everything in IIw light of God's overriding governance for good, hopefulness that stands firm in the most discouraging of circumstances, power to do what is right and withstand the forces of evil. In short, it costs exactly that abundance of life Jesus said he came to bring (John 10:10). The cross-shaped yoke of Christ is after all an instrument of liberation and power to those who live in it with him and learn the meekness and lowliness of heart that brings rest to the soul. . . . The correct perspective is to see following Christ not only as the necessity it is, but as the fulfillment of the highest human possibilities and as life on the highest plane.
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