Something to lighten the mood...

It’s been fun as my daughter Laura gets older (almost 9 and a half!) seeing her start to use things like instant messaging to great effect. A year ago she started trying to impersonate her mother while IMing me. (I caught on quickly. Becky doesn’t usually have typos.) A year later, she’s a lot better at the impersonation. (And has a lot fewer typos.)

I totally cracked up tonight when I saw the result of a Skype chat she had with my brother Ryan (who lives in London, England) earlier today. Ryan is well known for his silliness, and Laura comes by it honestly herself. Here’s the result:

I now know I must employ a sizable number of ninja warriors next time I make a cup of coffee and Laura’s around.

A story of two men

Yesterday I attended a church in another town which I have infrequently visited before. Circumstances allowed me to help lead music as a part of their worship team. After the service I was approached by two different older (60-ish) men. This story is about them.

The First Man

The first man that approached me had given a testimony during the worship service. He was overflowing with contagious joy and appreciation for what God has been doing in his life. While his situation is still not an easy one, he took the time to ask about my family and job, then asked how he could pray for me and proceeded to take my arm and pray right there and then. What an encouragement! As he walked away we both had smiles on our faces and grace in our hearts.

The Second Man

The second man approached me a few minutes later, and after thanking me for my participation, proceeded to tell me that I should be praying for the church. He mentioned his theological training and proceeded to explain how the church would be improved if “they” would “get a vision” for aspects of their ministry that mirrored his. I patiently listened and politely nodded as he went on. When he walked away we both had expressions of concern. His, no doubt, was for that church and its ministries; mine was more for him, who would seemingly look past the good things happening in the church (even that morning!) to “spiritually” complain to a stranger about the church leadership’s vision.

OK, so I lied up in paragraph one. This story isn’t really about them.

As I was thinking over these interactions a day later, the realization hit me like a ton of bricks:

I am the second man.

No, not all the time. And maybe not quite so obviously. But if I think and look back over my past year of on- and off-line interactions, and if I’m honest with myself, I’m the second guy.

I’ve been quick to complain, criticize, and critique. I’ve looked past the good things happening in my own congregation to pick at the nits that I’ve disagreed with. Rather than being thankful for what’s going on, I’ve relied on my “superior” theological knowledge (I am, at best, a well-read amateur) to poke holes too many places where the church didn’t align to “my vision” instead of just helping shore up the walls and foundations that truly might need a little help.

So let this serve as my public apology and repentance. (There are some private ones coming, too.) Where there are still correctives that should be made, may my first reaction always be grace and encouragement, and may I let the correctives wait for the right time and place.

Amen.

(And hey, kick me if you catch me straying from this, eh?)

Clarification, because a couple people have asked: this is a real story, and those were real conversations.

"To be astonishing seems to be the mark of God’s great acts..."

I’m sure I heard the name Marilynne Robinson several years ago when her novel Gilead won the Pulitzer Prize. She does live just down the road in Iowa City, after all. As I recall I even borrowed the book from the library and got bogged down in it pretty quickly. (Maybe I wasn’t ready for it a decade ago.)

Then last year on a whim I borrowed When I Was A Child I Read Books from the library; a slim volume of essays that turned into one of my favorite reads of the year. (I need to go back and read it again.)

Marilynne Robinson

Robinson’s writing reveals her as a delightful conundrum theologically. Raised Presbyterian, now part of the United Church of Christ, yet rather than embracing the theological ambiguity of the UCC she speaks fondly of John Calvin, clearly takes the Scriptures seriously, and reveals a deep humanism and care for people created in God’s image.

A recent interview of Robinson by The American Conservative prompted me to write this post, and it’s definitely worth a read. Robinson stakes her claim to ’liberal Protestantism’ that she describes as being ‘grounded in Calvinism’.

When asked her thoughts about the association of Christianity with the American right-wing, she said this:

Well, what is a Christian, after all? Can we say that most of us are defined by the belief that Jesus Christ made the most gracious gift of his life and death for our redemption? Then what does he deserve from us? He said we are to love our enemies, to turn the other cheek. Granted, these are difficult teachings. But does our most gracious Lord deserve to have his name associated with concealed weapons and stand-your-ground laws, things that fly in the face of his teaching and example? Does he say anywhere that we exist primarily to drive an economy and flourish in it? He says precisely the opposite. Surely we all know this. I suspect that the association of Christianity with positions that would not survive a glance at the Gospels or the Epistles is opportunistic, and that if the actual Christians raised these questions those whose real commitments are to money and hostility and potential violence would drop the pretense and walk away.

Strong stuff. And I love the spirit of what she says when asked about her views of the Second Coming:

I expect to be very much surprised by the Second Coming. I would never have imagined the Incarnation or the Resurrection. To be astonishing seems to be the mark of God’s great acts—who could have imagined Creation? On these grounds it seems like presumption to me to treat what can only be speculation as if it were even tentative knowledge. I expect the goodness of God and the preciousness of Creation to be realized fully and eternally. I expect us all to receive a great instruction in the absolute nature of grace.

I went to the library yesterday and picked up a copy of Gilead. It’s time to give it another try. Then it’s time to go back and find Robinson’s other novels and essays. We are blessed to have a thinker and writer of Robinson’s grace and skill sharing with us.

Losing something in the modernization

This past Sunday our worship team learned and led a new (old) song - Chris Tomlin’s arrangement of (and new chorus for) the old hymn Crown Him With Many Crowns.

www.youtube.com/watch

On the whole, I like it. If adding a contemporary chorus is what it takes to get us singing two and a half verses of densely-packed truth in a classic hymn, that’s a deal I’m willing to make.

Aside: the density of theological truth in this old hymn, when compared to what’s in most modern songs, is really stunning. But that’s a post for another time.

The one quibble I’ve got with Tomlin’s update to the hymn, if you’ll allow me to be pedantic for a minute or two, is in the updates to remove the archaic articles. Now, I’m not, in principle, against removing them. Thee, Thou, and Thy aren’t in common usage any more, and a careful update can give the classic text a fresh new feel. But the changes here aren’t so careful, or at least they’ve sacrificed accuracy in favor of rhyming schemes. A couple of examples:

From Verse 1, the original:

Awake my soul, and sing Of Him who died for Thee And hail Him as thy matchless King Through all eternity

And the update:

Awake my soul, and sing Of Him who died for me And hail Him as thy matchless King Through all eternity

That second line is a challenge to modernize, because getting lines two and four to rhyme really depends on having that long E sound at the end of line two. And replacing “thee” with “me” doesn’t actually change the theological content in any particularly objectionable way.

But it changes the perspective of the verse. In the original, the author calls his soul to sing, because Jesus died for his soul. In the update, the soul is called to sing because of the salvation of the author. A minor difference, but (at least to me) frustratingly annoying.

The second issue comes in what was the tail end of the fourth verse in the original, but which Tomlin has repurposed as a bridge in his version.

The original:

All hail, Redeemer, hail! For thou hast died for me; Thy praise and glory shall not fail throughout eternity.

And the update:

All hail, Redeemer, hail! For He has died for me His praise and glory shall not fail Throughout eternity.

And it’s the same problem - what the heck do you use to rhyme with eternity? A friend on Facebook pointed out that the problem (quite obviously, upon reflection) isn’t with rhyming ’eternity’. Doh!

This time I dislike the solution quite a bit more, because it changes the direction of the lines. In the original hymn, the hymnwriter turns to address Christ directly at the end. “All hail, Redeemer, hail! You have died for me!” But the reworking turns it into an account of Christ’s work rather than a direct stanza of praise.

Again, it’s still not wrong, but it really loses something in the translation.

OK, yes, I’m being pedantic. I’m still happy we sang the song, and I hope we include it in our regular song rotation. But I’m also still tempted to conclude that maybe the better lesson for the modern church would be to learn to sing and appreciate some of these classic hymns without forcing them to fit our modern musical sensibilities. Or maybe I’m just getting crotchety in my late 30’s.

I Rest in the Grace of the World

When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be, I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

--“The Peace of Wild Things” by Wendell Berry

[I needed this today. HT: Richard Beck]

The proper format for a sermon

A good insight here:

…a genuine sermon must begin with the first proclamation, with the proclamation of salvation. There is nothing more solid, deep and sure than this proclamation. Then you have to do catechesis. Then you can draw even a moral consequence. But the proclamation of the saving love of God comes before moral and religious imperatives. Today sometimes it seems that the opposite order is prevailing.

You’ve gotta love this.

First proclaim the gospel, the truth of God’s love and salvation.

Then do your doctrinal teaching.

Then draw a “moral consequence” - the “what to do”.

But get the order right.

This is just one piece of the wisdom from Pope Francis, as documented in this recently-published interview. It’s long, but a remarkable and highly-recommended read.

'Perfect' is just my pathetic attempt to hide

Comedian Marc Maron has a fantastic recent podcast episode where he interviews jazz pianist Ben Sidran.

In the midst of a long, fascinating discussion about jazz and rock music and the music scene of the 60’s and 70’s, Maron and Sidran has this interchange that’s really about more than just music [starting at about 36:20 on the podcast]:

Sidran: In jazz you can spend 8 hours a day blowing through a copper tube, right, and I promise you that after 10 years that tube will not change, but you will be totally transformed.

We’re transforming ourselves here, and you can’t do it if you’re not in public. If you can’t make your mistakes in front of people, it doesn’t matter, so what? You can’t make a mistake alone and you’re sitting there with friends - you gotta go out and hang it out.

Maron: That’s getting lost in the culture we live in now, across the board - there’s an expectation of quality content to be provided at all times, and if you do let it hang out and it doesn’t go well, you’ve got an entire culture of people who are gonna be ‘Aaah, he didn’t, you know, he let it hang out and he’s an a**hole, and it didn’t work’, and now that’s out there being misinterpreted.

Here we are as human beings looking for personal truths, willing to make mistakes in public and fight the good fight, and you’ve got a bunch of a**holes who are gonna be, like, ‘well, you didn’t quite do it, did you?’. Well that’s part of the thing! We’re at risk of losing what is organically human in the creative process.

Sidran: Well that’s the same thing in the music business, especially as you get further and further into digital technology, it’s possible to fix it. You know, just because it’s possible to make something perfect doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.

Maron: What is “perfect”, right?

Sidran: What is “perfect”. Perfect is just your pathetic attempt to hide in the technology, right? “Ooh, I made a mistake.” But the stuff that we love is, for me, and I’ll bet it’s the same in comedy - it’s not so much avoiding the mistakes but how you recover from mistakes.

Like if you’re in public and you do something and you didn’t intend to do it and the first thought in your mind is “shit, what did I just do?”, if you can train yourself to say “I’m gonna make something out of that”, in that recovery there is transcendence, and people have a sense that something magical just happened. It’s in the recovery. It’s not in being perfect, it’s in letting it all come through and using it.

Maron: Right, I love it. I never thought about it like that. Like every moment of misstep is an opportunity to transcend that moment.

There’s so much truth there, and the spiritual application isn’t far off, whether Maron and Sidran know it or not. Each of us as Christians have our own experiences of pain and failure to work through - some greater than others. (My mind immediately went to recent pieces from blog friends Aaron Smith and Zach Hoag, just two of many.)

And while our ultimate hope is for the day when Jesus will restore us from brokenness and transform us into something beautiful, new, and eternal, we see temporal glimpses of that transformation as God works in us now, in the responses that Maron and Sidner talk about here.

In the recovery, we see transcendence. Something holy working to heal and transform.

If you can’t make your mistakes in public, what does it matter? How much do I really believe in grace if I want to go into the studio and edit all the mistakes out of my life before I show it in public?

“Perfect” is just my pathetic attempt to hide. It’s not in being “perfect”, because perfect is impossible. Often due to my own failings - sometimes due to the failings of others who have hurt me. Where we see the transcendent, though, is when we let all of that through, and then see God working and shining through the brokenness.

One more fun musical post for the weekend

Louis Armstrong and Danny Kaye together on stage having far more fun than any two people should be allowed to have. How can you not enjoy this?

Bluegrass and Bach: Something Relaxing for the Weekend

It’s Friday headed in to a holiday weekend and I’m tired of writing about serious topics, so it’s time to share this video - a 6-minute PBS feature on mandolin player extraordinaire Chris Thile.

Thile, only 32 years old but long known for his bluegrass/folk/Americana, has recently released an album of Bach Sonatas and Partitas played on the mandolin. As you’ll see in the video - he’s fantastic, and Bach’s music translates remarkably well.

This album is available on Amazon and probably lots of other places. I picked it up this morning and I’m looking forward to spending some time with it over the weekend.

Recommended reading: Guilt Factories

My brother-from-another-mother Daniel Deboer has a great post up about what he calls “Guilt Factories” that’s worth reading. A snippet:

First you say that grace/faith is all that matters. Then you say that works flow out of grace. Then, as a result of that, you say that what God really cares about is your “heart”. Because if you heart is in the right place, your works are going to be in the right place too.

Then finish it off with a dollop of strictly enforced cultural norms, traditions, and piety. The piety is where it really gets intense, because the grace/faith you’ve been given is supposed to end up in works that are supposed to end up looking exactly like the received norms, the traditions, and the piety.

If you don’t have that piety, you don’t have the works. If you don’t have the works, you don’t have the faith. Either you (at best) have a “hard heart” or (at worst) are plain wolf among sheep.

That’s a Guilt Factory right there.

OK, that’s more than a snippet, but there’s enough more over on his site that if you’ve made it this far you should go read the whole thing.