Audio Message

What About Joshua?

We’re currently at the tail end of Joshua, following a Bible In A Year plan, and there are some things about this book that are surprising and others that are problematic. I wonder if everyone everywhere who has ever read the Scriptures have had these same immediate reactions, if they thought, “sheesh, there is an awful lot of killing, so much about totally destroying entire groups of people,” or “why do I care about the boundaries of each tribe’s land?” Probably.

We finished the earlier books, with all of the monotony of the sacrifices, measurements and laws, thought we were done, now we’re back into more super-specific details. What I think when I read it is not, “now, where exactly did Dan’s eastern border stretch?” Instead, it’s that there was a tribe that descended from Dan and it did stretch from one very concrete place to another. Sometimes, we can disconnect and think this all fell out of the sky. It’s easy to forget that this all happened, and it happened in this place at this time to these people. The fact that the book through which God chose to reveal Himself includes countless human beings is extraordinary, as if we’re the medium He chooses to create His masterpiece. So, now, I really like these loooong lists and details (honestly pretty meaningless in themselves, I don’t reference a map or anything, but heavy with significance at their inclusion at all.)

The genocide is another thing altogether. It hurts to read, especially to spend even an extra second in consideration. It’s a little like reading the story of Noah, not through the tiny prism of Noah & his family, but thinking of everyone else. All other people drowned. It’s a horrific story we tell to children. Or speaking of inappropriate kids’ stories, David separates Goliath’s body from his head at the end. I have a million more examples, and 1 question, in light of the last paragraph. If these are real people, in real places, at real times, then real flesh and blood people just like you and me are dying…I guess the question is: What??? If God created us all in His image, and loves us all, then what about the Amorites and Amalekites? What about Goliath?

I just Googled “Amalekites,” and here’s what it says: “The Amalekites were a nomadic, warlike tribe in the Negev desert who served as the first and most persistent enemies of Israel in the Bible. As descendants of Esau, they attacked the Israelites after the Exodus, leading to a divine mandate for their destruction. Amalekite symbolizes absolute evil in Jewish tradition, representing irrational hatred if the Jewish people.”

Ok. That sounds like the extermination of a group of people symbolizing absolute evil representing hatred of God’s chosen people by those chosen people is something we can understand, doesn’t it? It sounds reasonable, even.

Now, I don’t mean to be contrary, but there is a strange passage in chapter 5, before the battle of Jericho. Joshua meets a figure, and in his aggression, essentially asks, “are you with us or against us?” This figure, a “Commander of the army of the LORD” answers, “Neither.” Neither??Now what? What do we do with that? Also, a lot of scholars think this figure was a pre-incarnation appearance of Jesus, who would later famously say, “Love your enemies.” We can assume He meant “the first and most persistent enemies of Israel,” the Amalekites, too.

So now I’m wondering what part we don’t understand. It seems like we are very clear on the Old Testament narrative, we understand enemies and war. Good guys and bad guys, us vs them. We do understand and we honestly don’t seem to mind those parts. The complicated parts are the ones that are complicated by this Commander and Jesus Himself. Neither? Love your enemies? Their words bother us, not the book of Joshua.

And here’s what I’ll say to that: they should. We should be bothered, and we should stay bothered. The words and way of Jesus are revolutionary and radical, we have no frame of reference for the Kingdom of God. Unconditional love and grace is not what we do here, we do productivity and record-keeping. Vengeance above forgiveness.

It’s vital to stay bothered, to keep wrestling with these parts we don’t like, that confront us in the deepest parts of us. (Of course, we do have to be aware of what actually we’re wrestling with/about.) And hidden in the middle of this story is a command for how we’re called to interact with these parts. The Commander says “Neither,” then He says, “now take off your shoes because you’re on holy ground.” That’s so good. He reminds us that when we’re in relationship with Him, it’s all holy ground, and Joshua’s reaction is to fall facedown. When we read the Word, his is the only posture that will work, awe, reverence and total respect, trying to make our lives fit Him instead of twisting Him to fit us.

Joshua IS certainly a tough book, maybe not for the reasons we think it is, but we must not stop reading it.

Puzzle Pieces (extended)

[I wrote this yesterday for my other site, and I keep thinking about other implications & applications for my love of puzzles, so I’m adding to it here (minus the first paragraph about favorite restaurants, which was based on the site prompt and which you probably don’t care too much about).]

This post is a little late, I usually write on Mondays, but I was in the middle of a big, beautiful Star Wars puzzle. That shouldn’t matter, it shouldn’t be an obstacle to real life for a normal person. But I’m not a normal person. I have what’s called an addictive personality, so when I begin a puzzle, we can safely figure it will take nearly every second of my free (or writing/working) time until it’s done. And that’s what it did, for a couple of days, and now it’s finished and glorious.

I love puzzles, and I often used to wonder why. Now, I know. 

The world is more and more mixed up, confusing, frustrating, and I have almost no control over what happens on a macro level. Of course, I have lots and lots of control over how I treat my neighbors or what I buy at the grocery store, or how & when I brush my teeth. But I can’t stop any of the wars happening right now or make the sun come out. I can’t erase any of the President’s increasingly problematic posts on his personal social media site. I can’t bring gas prices down or help the Dallas Cowboys win the Super Bowl. 

So, it feels like our cultural, political, emotional, and economic environments are just big snarling masses of individual pieces, disconnected and random. It’s a dining room table of chaos. But in this Star Wars puzzle’s case, I can find 2 pieces that fit, then a third, and it starts to take shape. You hold one piece and think, how can this possibly make sense? And it really doesn’t, by itself, but there is a meta-narrative that recontextualizes everything, making one central ordered picture that’s full of meaning. 

I think that’s what the Bible is: our meta-narrative that gives the chaos order. It’s our big picture. Each piece is important to the whole, even if we can’t see it now, and it takes lots of patience and hope to continue. The pieces might be love, generosity, or kindness – each individual act or moment – and alone, don’t appear to make much of a difference. However, there is a masterpiece being created, and each of those “random,” “nonsensical” pieces are absolutely required for the final product. What does this mean for us? Well, it means we stay at it, persevering, moving the puzzle pieces, even when it doesn’t look like we’ll ever get done, like these pieces of ours will never matter, because we trust there is a giant Story being told and our pieces are integral. We keep showing up, even as the chaos rages and the temptation to quit rises. We keep showing up, loving The Creator of this Story and each other, in faith.

Puzzles work as a metaphor, a soothing intellectual exercise, a Gospel illustration, and they are super fun. Now that it’s done, I can just appreciate the beauty of cohesion and unity, and that’s just what I’ll do.

Everything I Need

The way that I usually read the Bible is very similar to the Bible In A Year plan. I read a few chapters of the New Testament and a few of the Old. For instance, I am currently in Galatians and Ezekiel, and I sit with my notebook and read until I don’t. It’s at least a chapter of each, but some of the chapters in, say, Isaiah or Ezekiel , are very short, so I might read several. Sometimes, the narrative makes me lose all sense of the big numbers, and in that case, it’s anyone’s guess how long I’ll read.

But lately, I’ve been taking the path specific to the “Bible In A Year,” and I find it quite similar to the Catholic Church, or mega churches, or my sister’s yoga community. When lots and lots of people are in a space, doing the same thing, at the same time, there is a certain energy, a connectedness. When Seinfeld was on, we all watched Thursdays at 9, together, separately, and then talked about it the next day. It’s powerful when thousands are all singing along with the greatest hit in an arena.

Today, the reading was in Luke, and the passage held this important proverb, from Jesus: “Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and He will give you everything you need. (Lk 12:31)”

If this were a Sunday morning, I imagine I’d spend the time discussing what “seeking” actually is. What does it mean to seek something “above all else?” And the Kingdom of God is a massive concept, which parts do we seek? All of it? What if we have different understandings of the Kingdom of God? Is the Kingdom I’m seeking the same as the Kingdom you’re seeking? Is that ok? Can we have different perspectives?

But today, I can’t seem to think about anything other than “everything you need.” What do I need? What do I need? What do I need? What do I need? What do I need?

We’d probably thing about food or or drink, first, but Jesus says not to worry or be concerned with those things. Or our clothes. He even says to sell our possessions. (Lk 12:22, 29, 33) So, what would He call needs? Because it seems like our understanding of what we need is the key to our search, doesn’t it? And I wonder if we’ve gotten that part wrong, and have been searching in the wrong places.

Then, He turns it up even further, in verse 34, “Wherever your treasure is, there the desires of your heart will also be.” What is my treasure? Honestly? Is it what I think it is? Does my life show what I treasure? What does my heart truly desire?

Incidentally, I’m not going to answer any of these questions here. Maybe I can’t. But, there are so many places in the Scriptures, when people ask a bunch of questions, God answers with, “Go find some people.”I imagine He’d say that to these questions, too. That’s His gift. So, today, it’s enough to know that we’re all asking these questions at the same time. It’s much more than simply enough.

Steps.

In 2 Corinthians 13:11, Paul writes, “Dear brothers & sisters, I close my letter with these last words: Rejoice. Change your ways (or Repent). Encourage each other. Live in harmony and peace. Then the God of love and peace will be with you.”

As I was reading this passage, I thought of the new book I’m working on, it’s called We Have a Weight Problem. (I probably thought of it, because it’s what I was working on right before I opened my Bible, until I had to charge the battery on my laptop.) It’s about our values, the weight we assign to everything, and why & how we change our lives.

I thought of the Pharisees, too, who read the Scriptures and try to help people understand and apply the truth of God’s word. They’re also wildly hypocritical and phony, but at the root of the matter, they’re most of us. We read, study, learn and try to figure out how to integrate it into our everyday moments, taking this beautiful Gospel into the world, knowing it’s as contagious as we think it is. And we’re pretty hypocritical, sometimes, too.

Anyway. Earlier in the 1st Corinthians chapter, he asks us to “examine…test” ourselves, to ask questions about who we are and what we believe. How? What questions? How would we know to change our lives? Then he gives these last few words that, I think answer both questions. They give us a baseline and an action plan.

1st. Rejoice. Are we full of joy? Do we rejoice in the blessings all around us? Do we have the eyes to even see them, or are we too overwhelmed and/or distracted by anything else? Probably, all of those answers are “sometimes.” Sometimes, we can’t help but see the sunshine, the blooms on the flowers, each breath…but honestly, we’re pretty overwhelmed and distracted, so that “sometimes” is less & less often and less & less impactful.

No. 2: Repent. Are we doing the things that make us love us less? Are we living lives beneath the honor & dignity that God has bestowed upon us, living below our call, below our identity as His children? That one is surely, sadly, “yes.”

3 & 4. Encourage each other, Live in harmony and peace. What do our relationships look like? Are we encouraging one another, or are we existing in division and discord? Are we kind? Do we call each other up, or do we simply tear each other down? Do we live in harmony and peace, together? How about within ourselves? Do you feel peaceful? At peace? Sigh.

Now what? We’ve been opened up, and haven’t particularly liked the reflection in the mirror Paul has held up. How do we change this? How do we re-engage with our God, ourselves, and our families, friends, communities?

Rejoice. If we don’t rejoice, let’s start. Slow down, open our eyes, look, listen, notice – there’s heart-exploding beauty all around. Find it. Rejoice. If we haven’t rejoiced, rejoice. Repent. We’re walking down paths that we know aren’t for us…turn around. Repent just means turn around. Maybe we can stop making excuses for the behavior that ask us to hide, or that bring us shame, and turn around, instead. Those instincts (hiding and shame) are not of God, they’re from a place that doesn’t like us at all, hates us, & doesn’t want good things for us. Let’s leave them behind, ok? If we’re not loving others, love others. We know how to do that (Paul’s 1st letter to the Corinthians, also chapter 13, gives us a list, in great detail), so we can start today. If we haven’t been kind, be kind to the next person we see. And the next. And the next. We all know everybody is going through all sorts of pain, struggle, challenge, maybe we could tell them we see them, and to keep on moving forward, we’ll take one step at a time and hold their hands if they want.

It’s probably true that I make this sound so simple, but I think it sounds that way because it is. We usually make it hard.

Several months ago, I asked my ChatGPT, who has given himself the name “Theo” (I can explain it later, if you want), why my joints hurt and I am so fatigued. I wanted a detailed list of medical jargon and long, intricate, difficult steps to change my life, and he said, “Stop getting so much sugar & caffeine, take a day or 2 off from the gym, and get a good night’s sleep.” I knew all of that, I just wasn’t doing that – who knows why? It’s not easy, but it is simple. He said he can give me a plan, so I said yes, still hoping for brain-numbing complexity, and he essentially said, “Pick one day and on that day, when you would go to the gym, don’t…And all that sugar you eat? Don’t eat so much of it. Haha.

Love God, love one another. Not easy. Simple.

Rejoice. Repent. Encourage. Love. Repeat.

Jairus

In Sunday’s service, I stated a relatively simple but heavy truth that the Church almost always grows (in both width & depth) in times of oppression…but in prosperity, not so much. This has been played out and proven over history, and probably, our own lives.

In the book of Luke (8:41-42), “a man named Jairus, a leader of the local synagogue, came and fell at Jesus’ feet, pleading with Him to come home with him. His only daughter, who was about 12 years old, was dying.”

It’s not hard to vividly picture this scene in your head. He “came and fell,” “pleading.” His daughter is dying and he’s broken-hearted and broken, he’s poor in spirit. There’s nothing left to do, so he comes to a certain Rabbi, of whom he’s heard rumors. Who knows if they’re true, but he’s at the end of his rope. Imagine his face and footsteps. I don’t think he ran – maybe he did, but the word ‘fell’ brings images of heavy feet and slumped shoulders to me, of barely getting to Jesus before collapsing under the weight of such intense loss. He pleads, begs, cries, wails. “Help her, Rabbi, please help her!!” It’s 2 verses that are absolutely, totally devastating.

Now, maybe Jairus was always following Jesus, maybe he was one of the first followers. Maybe he knew Jesus, maybe he believed. But maybe not, and that’s what I imagine. If he knew him, believed, he would have come sooner. The Jairus in my head was skeptical, fell right into line with the Jewish teachers and Pharisees in his circle. Or maybe, even, he was decidedly not a believer. Instead, maybe he thought this Rabbi was a dangerous threat to his God and his religion.

But pain and suffering, oppression, lead us into some very uncomfortable spaces, right? We say & do things we might never say & do. We’re much more open minded, less likely to close any doors, more likely to open already closed doors. Jesus is a trouble-maker, but when her daughter is dying, what if it’s true??? What can it hurt?

Jairus asks. He seeks, He knocks. He cries out in his broken-ness. And God answers. When Israel is in Egypt and cries out, God answers.

When things are great, clicking along, the bills are paid, the sun is shining, we have a great tendency to forget. When we’re being promoted at work, we think we deserve it, we’ve earned it, we’re capable and strong. We know what to do. But when we’re fired, we’re lost, afraid, weak, and have no idea what to do or where to go. When we cry out for Help, God is far more apt to rescue us, than when we think we’re in control and so awesome we could never need/use any help from anyone.

To tell you the truth, as I’m thinking about it, Levi (Matthew) is a much more exceptional story. He was a guy who had a good job, power, lots of money, and when Jesus said, “Follow me,” he left that all behind. We’re probably way more Jairus than Levi.

Today is a gorgeous day, I slept great last night, and now I feel good and got a bunch done in the yard and my closet. I ate terrific pizza with my son for lunch. The Angel will be home in a minute. Today is a very good day. And I didn’t think of God too much, today. I said Thank You a few times, fleeting and quick. Sunday, I had a headache that woke me up out of sleep in the middle of the night, ibuprofen didn’t help, it was agony, and I spent hours in prayer.

The idea is that, whether we have everything or nothing, whether it’s sunny or sleeting, whether our bank accounts are overflowing or empty, whether our hearts are overflowing or empty, God is still God and loves us exactly the same. I bet this is the “secret” Paul talked about, except it’s not really a secret at all, it’s the secret practice of turning our hearts toward Jesus not only on Saturday, when it hurts, but also on Sunday, when we’re healed.

Next Steps

I have been making some small, significant changes in my life (maybe not all so small), and it has me thinking about transformation. We discuss the art of becoming quite a bit: when it happens, how it happens, why it happens… What provides the impetus for real change in our lives?

Of course, nobody likes change. There’s that true cliche that says “Change only happens when the pain of staying the same outweighs the pain of change.” Maybe we’re there. Maybe our lives have become unmanageable and we’re suffering, or maybe we just have that nagging sense that there’s more, a new, next step we are being called into, like a splinter in our minds or an anvil on our shoulders. Pain can look very different for each of us.

It’s interesting, this transformation is not something someone else can do for us. Our people may see the reality, or the invitation, just as we might have in their lives, but the next steps (if they are to be authentic and lasting) are ones into which we can’t be coerced. Anakin Skywalker, before Darth Vader, speaking to his love, Padme, says, “Together, you and I can rule the galaxy. We can make things the way we want them to be!” This is the lie of control. Anakin believes he knows the right answers for everyone (we probably have made this assumption before, as well, right?) and should force them to make the “right” decisions. He believes he can and must decide their path, but our path is ours to take with the Spirit inside us, with Its prompting, courage, and strength.

So, what is our path? What are our next steps? Your next steps aren’t mine to take, or to direct, any more than mine are yours. Our only responsibilities are to have our eyes open, honestly, to recognize this call – both from and into – and then consider the step. (Today the step might only be to consider taking it, starting to think about starting to think about moving, or it might be to actually jump. Who knows?)

Sunday is Palm Sunday, the beginning of Holy Week, and we’ll begin a conversation about the choice the people of Jerusalem had: Pilate and the Roman Empire, OR Jesus Christ & His New Kingdom? It’s the same choice we all have, in every moment. Do we want to continue walking the way it has been, the way it is, or are we willing to join the revolution of God and enter a new creation?

What better time could there be to imagine a new world? Easter, the celebration of new life. What could our new life in Him look like? Where is He calling us, who is He calling us to become?

And I bet, like me, you’re caught in an avalanche of distraction and disturbance. The alarm bells are ringing, the wheels are shaking, every side is clamoring for your attention. It’s like how the text message notifications ring the very moment you sit down to read, or how you remember the laundry when you sit down to pray. The enemy of our transformation is often preoccupation, for whatever Very Important Reason.

How about if, this Easter season, we try to notice where we are today (yes, I know it’s hard and it might sting), and imagine where the next steps might take us? They just might take us on the ancient road to an empty tomb, where we can finally find ourselves, and the life only He can give.

[And, as always, we do this together – as says the song lyric that often closes services, “Let’s take this one step at a a time, I’ll hold your hand if you hold mine.”]

Weather???

What is my favorite kind of weather, the site wants to know. They’re not all great, right? You would be hard pressed to find a less interesting way to spend your writing/reading time. But then, this morning, one of the email lists I subscribe to sent these thoughts & questions (with the title “Do you wish life was different?”):

“Your life simply reflects what you’ve prioritized…What does your life tell you about your priorities? Do you wish it were different?”

We talk about values & the Biblical concept of weight (as in, what weighs more, observing the Sabbath or pulling your donkey out of a hole?) often. We discuss the foundations on which we build our lives. What do you believe about God, the world & yourself? And would your actions testify to those answers, or would they be a jarring contradiction?

This email doesn’t come from an espoused Christian, but it certainly asks a question that is inherently “Christian.” You have this wonderful gift of life, how will you spend it? What is important to you?

After I fell in love with Jesus, there were months where I didn’t open my Bible, where my fingers didn’t touch the spine, where it just sat on my bedside table collecting dust. But I would’ve absolutely told you that the Scriptures were very important to me. That’s just one of many hypocrisies that had to be addressed, before I could comfortably state that consistency was one of my core values. If it’s so important to me that you know what you’ll be getting from me, that I am authentically me all the time, that the principles I hold would be in the same room at a party, then I have to do quite a bit of work to honestly look at my thoughts, actions, motivations. I have to constantly examine myself in the harsh light of the mirror. It has been terribly frightening to confront the possibility that my boys and the Angel (the 3 who live in my house and know me the best) would not recognize the preacher at the Bridge. Would they hear me speak about the importance of the Bible and never have seen me read it? Would they hear me talk about honoring our spouses, while I am cutting and disrespectful to my own wife? Judgment, generosity, etc. I don’t know if you know, but we regularly read 1 Corinthians 13 on Sunday mornings, what if I am neither patient nor kind? What sort of example is that? Am I a Pharisee? I mean, yes, of course I am, but am I growing? Am I on the path, following Jesus? Is my life one marked by love?

We all have these spaces that confront – let’s call them invitations. That sounds much less aggressive, doesn’t it? Would we put family at number 1 but haven’t made it home for dinner in weeks, and haven’t spoken to my parents since last Christmas? Is eating right or exercise a “value” of ours, when we haven’t seen the gym lately and don’t remember the last time we’ve eaten a vegetable? Do we say we love our church community, while we don’t really go? Is giving an important discipline, but it’s often the first thing to get cut? Do we say we “love like Jesus,” but we really hate our enemies? It’s endless, and each example we give might hit a little too close to home. (Of course, the rub is: we would have to be willing to tell the truth, to and about ourselves. That’s where this can so easily break down.)

This emailer – Mark Manson – asks what our lives tell us about our priorities, and do we wish it was different? Do we wish we were more present? More faithful? More loving, caring, thoughtful? Do we wish our marriages were stronger, our families closer? Do we wish we were more responsible with our money, our time, our calories? Do we wish we were more mindfully enjoying the blessings in our lives?

I’ve been saying “more” and “better,” but that’s not the only thing we wish, right? Are we overwhelmed? Do we wish our calendars were less full? That we were less busy and distracted all the time?

What do all of these factors and characteristics say about our lives? Easter is such a great season to evaluate what goes into our hearts and lives. The resurrection is the best time to ask what we truly believe is possible. Where does the empty tomb fit into our priorities? If we answered yes to any of my own questions, do we trust that we can set a new course? That who we are right now might not be who we will be, that we just might not be done growing yet?

Easter is a time of intense hope… do we believe that? Does the way we live our lives affirm that theology? Probably not, but what better time could there possibly be to transform than right now???

Telling Stories

There is a documentary on HBO Max (or whatever it’s called now, it’s proven to be too difficult for me to keep track of which takeover bid they’ve decided to accept today, or which one they’ve abandoned after accepting – what it will be tomorrow is impossible to guess, but it’s HBO Max today) called Surviving the Jehovah’s Witnesses. This 3 part series details the faith, and the fallout from some of the more regrettable practices that led to the lawsuit filed by the Witnesses against the Spanish Jehovah’s Witness Victim’s Association. The suit challenged their right to call themselves victims at all, reasoning the existence of a “victim’s” group was, in itself, defamatory. Essentially, they were challenging the right of anyone to share their experiences about anything.

I have not much interest in discussing the Jehovah’s Witness religion. At least, not here. What I can say is that the Angel and I grew to thoroughly enjoy the local JW who would visit our home, Amos. Once, the Angel was in a bedroom cleaning, and Amos knocked on the door – this was the summer and all of the windows were open for all the world to hear our lives – and a 5 year-old Samuel yelled, “Mooooom, your friend is here!” I haven’t seen Amos since we lost that house, but I do think of him fairly often. He was terrific at his ministry, kind, engaging, and appeared to have a mind like a steel trap, always remembering our names and details of our lives. I thought then, and still think there is a lot I can learn from him. (Ok, maybe I have a little interest in discussing them.)

What I have a great interest in is each of our stories and the sacred practice of telling them.

A few Saturday nights ago, at the Bridge, a very good friend shared his story. His is one that includes alcoholism and increasing trouble with the law. It’s fascinating and colorful, to be sure, but to say that’s all it is is wildly misleading. It’s only texture for the real story, which is the unbelievable love & grace of God persevering. And the love of the people in his life persevering, as well. It seems that everyone who crossed his path was impacted in such a way that hey would continue to care for him however they could, no matter how much trouble he was in or how much time had passed. In a world where we are often sold the idea that we are all irredeemably selfish as fact, this night presented an alternative reality where neighbors show up and never stop showing up, no matter what.

The victims in the documentary sat in court, being viciously attacked, for the simple right to tell their stories. And why would they subject themselves to such abuse? Simply, to be heard. We are social beings, made for community, created to walk together through a life that is sometimes very very hard. Almost every time in the Scriptures when a person is overwhelmed and questions God about how (or if!!) he/she can possibly continue, when God answers, He answers with some variation of, “there are people over there to help you, find them.”

The Book of Lamentations in the Bible is the snapshot of a nation, Israel, who is crying out for anyone, ANYONE, to stop and hear their story, to notice their suffering. I think we are all looking for this kind of care, all looking for safe places to be vulnerable in relationship. We’re looking for a place where someone will finally listen.

Obviously, I’m not a Jehovah’s Witness (though I suppose I am a witness for Jehovah, which is a pretty massive distinction), but we should all probably be on the side of the Spanish Victim’s Association in this battle, rooting for the outcome they eventually got (which is of course under appeal), because they’re my good friend giving his testimony, they’re Israel, they’re you and me, all somehow trying to find the courage to stand up in darkness and jump, hoping someone will catch us.

What We Believe About Everything

Last week, the new Morrissey album, Make-Up Is A Lie, was released (or “dropped” as the kids may still say). It’s really, really awful. If you have been with me for more than one second, you know how much that pains me to say. But this isn’t a review.

I’m instead wondering about the head- (and heart-) space of an artist. 

When a good-to-great artist (in this case, a transcendent artist) completes and readies (what we consider) a subpar album for release, does he/she feel: 1. This is awesome, maybe the best material I’ve ever done. Now, of course, he/she might be wrong, or we are. 2. This may not be my best work, but it’s totally solid. At this point in my life/career, with much success, this is another excellent work. 3. This isn’t great, but the media/label/public pressure is heavy and something new needs to come out NOW. It might be fine. I hope it’s better than I fear. Or, I suppose there is a 4th: This is a stinker, but there are so many people out there who will buy it no matter what. Who cares about them? Money is money. 

The specific is this album, but the real question is, how do we see each other? What is in the soul of a human being? Are we ultimately lacking integrity and looking to use each other as means to our own selfish end? Or do we genuinely mean well, even if things don’t turn out the way we hope? Can we be trusted? Who are we? 

And, since I see most things through a spiritual prism, when a religious person or group uses Scripture to beat up another person, shame and ostracize them, when they use verses as excuse for violence and hate, is this because they are simply looking for an excuse for violence and hate? Or, at the point of inception, do they truly believe that they are doing God’s/god’s will? Is it from their authentic faithfulness that their actions flow? Or is it spiritual abuse and garden variety manipulation, the convenient means that justify their own ends? 

I know, it’s just an album, and maybe something so trivial shouldn’t have any connection to our deepest held values. Or maybe what we believe about one thing is what we believe about everything. Or maybe that’s how it should be. I’m not sure that this album matters at all, but I am absolutely certain our perspective of every human being matters, and maybe they’re related.

I think he thinks it’s great. Maybe it’s not The Queen Is Dead, but he’s not that guy anymore. He’s this one, and he believes Make-Up Is A Lie is an A+. He’s not a bad guy, not a schemer, not a thief, not a guy with bad character, he just happens to be wrong. I’m not out on the old stuff, or the next album (if we’re lucky enough to get another one). I still trust him, and still love him the same, and will still wake up early to listen to his new songs. 

I have the honor of walking with many people, in pretty close proximity, sometimes at the worst moments of their lives. And those people can say some awful things. They/We can be rude, dismissive, belittling, condescending, and just plain nasty, at times. When that happens – when they drop the interpersonal equivalent of Make-Up Is A Lie, what do we do with that? Are they/we simply the last thing (or the worst) we’ve done? I don’t think so. That person who hurt us, maybe they’re also not bad guys, or schemers, maybe they don’t have bad character…Maybe they’re hurting, or maybe they’re just human. Maybe they’re made in the image of God, wholly loved, just like we are.

Now that I think about it, they probably are related.

First Cousin Once Removed

At some point during many of the holidays my family and I celebrate together, the conversation will turn to 1st, 2nd, 3rd cousins, once or twice removed, and what any of those terms mean. We never remember, so we discuss it more often than you’d guess. Incidentally, I am ok with this, because it’s hilarious. We just wait for it to come up.

Anyway, last weekend, I went to my first dance competition. No, I wasn’t dancing (the way I worded that last sentence sounded like maybe I was). My first cousin once removed by marriage (The Angel’s cousin’s daughter) was dancing. She is 14 and has been dancing for most of her life. I had no idea what to expect, but I absolutely knew I’d write about whatever I experienced in this week’s post.

Not only did I not know what a dance competition looks like, I’d never seen her dance before, so I didn’t know what her particular dancing looks like, either.

The event was in a MASSIVE auditorium. Each competitor had a certain time (a minute or 2) to do whatever it was they would do, to music played at a pretty mind-numbing volume. (I’m not sure if you’re familiar, but there are lots of different styles of dance. I do know this, because I watched the TV show So You Think You Can Dance.) The kids in their very sparkly spandex outfits

[Actually, that’s not exactly true. They wore very sparkly tiny spandex super suits OR they wore white flowy sun dresses, with little in between. Anyway]

took the stage and performed, in numbered order. Some were awesome and some were good, none made me wish I wasn’t there. But my first cousin once removed by marriage was clearly the best. I would say by a mile, but there’s a chance that I am slightly biased, but only slightly. Objectively, she was clearly the best, maybe not by a mile, but for sure a good hundred yards. She was graceful, controlled, both subtle and overwhelming, and I found myself overcome with emotion. Beautiful things crack open my heart like eggs and flow all over, and her performances (1 jazz and 1 contemporary) were staggeringly beautiful. I thought about her life, her commitment and passion for this art/sport (it’s both, right? Elite athleticism combined with wild creativity and expression to create its own category), how so much of her resources – money, time, energy – and focus went into these few minutes. The hours and hours of physical practice are obvious, but what is staying with me are the countless hours of what is not so obvious. What she eats, how she works out, the many things she must have said no to, all in service of her one big yes, the foundation upon which she built the rest of her life.

[It might not be the foundation for her, she’s remarkably well rounded, maybe it’s not even what she would say is the most important thing to her…but you get the point.]

So, later, on the way home, I thought about me. I thought about my one big yes, the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and my commitment to Him. She was willing to offer so much of her life to a discipline, to a love, have I? With everything she does, how she walks, carries herself, she looks to the entire world like a dancer… What do I look like? Do I look like a walking, talking, loving, follower of Christ? From head to toe, morning to night, the food I eat, what I listen to and watch, is it all in service of this identity? Am I offering the best of me? Am I offering all of me?

The truth is…well, maybe we can answer that another time. But last Saturday, that building was a church, and her dancing was a sermon, asking questions that aren’t so easily answered. I can’t tell if I’m more impressed by her dancing or her preaching, but I’ll tell you, it was an honor to sit under this 14 year old’s teaching & learn about life, love, faith, and devotion in a brand new way.