The Mistake

A few weeks ago, my wife called me on my cell while I was at work. What she told me wasn’t expected. It wasn’t in the realm of reality. A young friend of ours had passed away.

That didn’t seem possible.

…

How?

He killed himself.

…

Another moment in my life that my brain couldn’t immediately process.

He and I weren’t what you’d call close friends. He was the husband of one of my wife's better friends. We had hung out a few times. I tried to be friendly. We even made a few plans that never materialized. It happens. 

I think that he felt we didn’t have enough concrete things in common. 

Still, I cared. I spent the next few days wrapping my head around the idea. Suicide was a big subject that week. Our pastor had shared the story of his daughter’s recent suicide attempt earlier that week. So suicide had been on my mind.

I have a suicidal past. I don’t care to go into too much detail, but I understand the mindset. I’ve been there. I’m not there now, and don’t believe I could ever get there again. I’ve finally lived too much life.

I just keep thinking that it’s a mistake. What my friend did, it's a mistake. And it sounds cliché to say, “It’s a permanent solution to temporary problems.” But that’s the truth. Life changes if you’re living it. If you don’t like what’s going on, if life is painful, you have to engage it in new ways until it changes.

I remember those times in my own life, the belief that the pain of today would surely greet me tomorrow and the day after. I’m guessing in those moments, he couldn’t see the beauty of life, feel the joy of some past event, or at the very least hold a bit of hope. 

My perspective now is that life is chock full of change whether you want it or not. If you’re not changing, if your life is static, you’re not living it enough. There are just all these opportunities out there waiting for you. If what you’re doing now isn’t working, do something, anything different.

As we walked into the funeral home for the viewing, I just kept thinking that we shouldn’t be there. He shouldn’t be there. He shouldn’t be dead. His wife shouldn’t be going through this. We shouldn’t be going through this. It’s a mistake.

They had all these photos of him, so much life pinned to those boards. There was even a photo taken just over a week before, a smile on his face, life apparent, alive. 

His family has chosen to keep the truth of his death a secret. They have a cover story. I understand why  this choice was made, but it still doesn’t sit right.

As family members came in that day and broke down, their grief was thickly sitting in the room with us. Then the cover story was shared. And they seemed to feel some relief.

I felt like a liar just being in the room with the truth of their emotions hanging so thickly in the air, and then the untruth being spoken to make them feel better. I surely would never say anything. But I felt complicit. 

I don’t think God punishes those that commit suicide any more than He punishes any sin. I’m betting God understands just fine why they’ve made the choice they’ve made. God understands better than those of us left ever will. God knows every pain we’ve ever suffered.

I do wonder if God ever shares what would have been with those that go this route. It seems like that would be cruel doesn’t it? That would be like hell, seeing what was waiting if they’d only held on a bit longer. 

I don’t know. 

I bet there's grieving and comforting going on. 

I pray my friend is being comforted and enjoying the love and grace that I know God to offer. I’m sorry that he couldn’t feel more hope.

I’m a little angry at him and a lot perplexed. I also believe that I’ll get to talk to him about it someday. And maybe we won’t even bother having the discussion because hopefully in those moments, it won’t matter.

Highlights and Thoughts Provoked from Mitch Albom's Have a Little Faith, In Random Form of Course

I wanted to try something new. I read a lot, and I always take notes. I'd love to share some of the points that really stuck out to me, some of the things that I'm still chewing on because of this book.

I'm going to try to paraphrase some of these things. I don't think posting these few quotes from the book will diminish the overall reading experience. The book is really about a journey. I don't think you can even say that it's about a journey to faith. The conclusion is really left to the reader in that respect. It's more like a journey through certain revelations for the author.

Most of these lessons I'm about to list are actually from Mitch's rabbi, The Reb.

• Things that grow slowly are more formidable. Things that grow quickly, crumble easily.
• If you're going to lead or teach people spiritually, there is no room for cynicism.
• Life holds a lot more hope when we believe God has chosen to answer our prayers negatively instead of believing He isn't out there listening in the first place, especially when sudden death or illness is concerned. I have atheist friends, and I wonder how they feel about things like this. If life is pointless. We're here by accident for no real reason. We die, and it's done, then how much more pointless is all this suffering?
• "The only tyrant I accept in this world is the still voice within." Mohandas Gandhi
• Olam Habah - the world to come. This sticks out to me because I recently read an argument that the Christian faith is a faith mainly concerned with the future. It's not about what we are, but what we're becoming. That's not to say that we sit back and let the future unfold, or that we're in any way responsible for creating the final outcome. By participating now, we're becoming now.
• The creation story that Judeo Christian traditions follow does not mention the word 'bad.' God did not create bad things. I study the creation story regularly, and this never occurred to me. I think he's talking about inherent goodness or badness here. We all have this choice. We weren't made bad.
• When you worry about God's judgement, you shouldn't worry about you versus the other guy. You should worry about God measuring you against you - how far you've come compared to where you were.
• Start any reconciliation with humility, "I've thought things over, and in some ways, you might be right." Even if you don't believe it. From my experience, this is great advice. I've often been labeled a diplomatic guy. I've helped facilitated a few reconciliations in my day, and I can tell you, humble keeps people listening. Anger does not.
• The take away from the book: Even if you're not actively seeking a faith, God, etc… if you know people that are obviously enamored with God, try to take some time to have a conversation with these people. You might walk away experiencing something beautiful. Ask them some tough questions.
• I'm starting a file of my own, titled simply, "God."

Other Random Thoughts, Non-book Related:

• Sorry salespeople out there, I hate the phrase, "It's a No Brainer." What it implies to me is, don't even bother thinking about all the angles. Just go for it. Living in this economy, no brainers often lead to more jobs for repo men.
• What's acceptable to wear after Labor Day? How about clothes? Don't we have enough to concern ourselves with already without worrying about whether or not white is acceptable? And Acceptable to whom?

Random Stuff on God, Faith, and My Kids

• If you were to start a file titled 'God,' what would you put in it?
• I should write a sermon on that one. Would you guys read my sermons?
• Have you ever had a week that seems to have a theme, like God is shouting something at you? For about a week now, my theme, the word that keeps being repeated over and over again in differing forms is: ritual.
• I'm reading more than one book right now. One is about the ways that we should approach Bible study. The other is about finding faith. They're actually, on the surface at least, oceans away from one another. One is more instructional. The other is more of a memior. They're both bringing me back to this idea of ritual, or habit.
• My own local pastor mentioned something very similar in his sermon last Sunday. He was talking more about habits that keep you growing spiritually, but to me, that's the same thing. Here's a link to that sermon - click here.
• Ritual. Ritual. Ritual.
• In the more memoir oriented book, the author asks a great question: If you wanted to connect yourself to anyone in the past through ritual, who would it be? Would it be a group? The idea being, you would mimic their behavior or rituals in hopes of seeing some truth that they obviously knew. In a way, ritual can be like time travel, you can connect with people that are no longer among the living.
• Ponder that for a month.
• In the same book, the author stopped running from God around the year 2000, the basic same timeline that I stopped running from God.
• Thinking this over, it's staggering to think about where I was then, at the beginning of faith, and where I am now. How many books have I read on the subject since then? How many articles? Not to mention all the things that have come and gone in my life: A house, two kids, a dream job gained and lost, a community of people I'm now connected with, friends come and gone.
• Staggering.
• The other book, the one that's just trying to lead to a more open minded reading of Scripture, it's a dense book. Full of tons of ideas and tangents, but they're all great fun and somewhat revelatory. It's hard to put down, but full of things that I could ponder for hours and hours on their own.
• One of the big ideas I think the author is trying to get at is the idea that we should take care not to make more of the Bible than we do God. Don't let the Bible itself become an idol to the point that we ignore what we know about God.
• If we know and experience God in a positive, loving way, why are we so easily convinced that God isn't loving when we encounter Scripture that appears to portray him as less so?
• He highly recommends further study, especially in regards to context, history, culture, and even possible problems with translation errors when we're talking about the English language.
• None of this is exactly new to me, but he does have some amazing illustrations that he uses to make his points.
• If curiosity has gotten the better of you, the authors I'm currently reading are Peter Gomes and Mitch Albom - again, in many ways, oceans apart. The books, The Good Book, Reading with Mind and Heart and Have a Little Fatih, A True Story. The latter is available right now at a local, going out of business, Borders store near you at a very reasonable price.
• I've gotten back in to some of my rituals this week.
• I may do another random post soon based on the Albom book. I'm only about a quarter of the way through the Gomes tomes, they're going to be a while.
• I like to face my fears. I don't want my life to be ruled by fear. Here's the thing though… I'm terrified of whales. I don't think I can face that fear. They're down there in the deep, big enough to swallow a person whole.
• My kids ask for broccoli when we're grocery shopping. I'm proud, but it's also weird. I'm sure it's our fault too.
• Has anyone else experienced this? We've bought about a hundred ink pens in the past two years. Do you think I can ever find one? My kids love to draw, so they're always snatching the pens, but what are they doing with them? Are they somehow falling into the foundation of my house? Is the upholstery of our couch packed with pens?

Our Social Self, Irony, Batman and The Matrix

Material Faith from Peter Rollins on Vimeo.

Ed's Story: Hope when Facing Death

Snipe. Snipe. Snipe.

• We arrived Sunday afternoon to Harrisville State Park which opens up onto beautiful Lake Huron. It had been rainy that day, so the white caps were coming in strong. It made for fun swimming.
• We weren't at the campground more than twenty minutes, and Owen's glasses were swept out to sea never to be seen again. We were so tired from traveling and so excited about the waves, we neglected to take the precaution of removing them before he went in the water.
• He was devastated.
• I, was not. I was already in full vacation mode. Nothing could remove my level of relaxation. They were gone. Let's not ruin the rest of the trip.
• He screamed at the water, "I need those to read!"
• My wife kept asking me if I was "really angry." As if I was hiding it well or something.
• Nope.
• Skunks. Skunks everywhere!
• Our first morning in camp was greeted with a tiny neighbor girl trying to get us to look at a jar. Her father asked, "Would you like your kids to come over and see our bat? We found him on our tent this morning. He's been acting kind of sickly, so we put him in a jar."
• Let me interject this tidbit: I'm paranoid and deathly afraid of the idea of rabies. Bats and Skunks are two of the most common animals to carry said disease.
• I shook my head in a negative manner, but I think the expression on my face conveyed much more. Shortly thereafter, the little girl returned. In a rather crestfallen voice she told us that the bat had been let go. I think the father realized handling bats, especially those "acting kind of sickly," was not a great idea for anyone.
• I actually felt a bit guilty for conveying so much with my face.
• My camping trip seemed to have a theme emerging - me facing my fears without ruining the vacation with fits of anxiety. I'm happy to say I conquered from beginning to end.
• I don't sleep well in strange places. It takes me a few days to settle in. So, I often don't sleep well when on vacation. The first night in camp wasn't too bad as far as noise was concerned.
• The second night, trains started going through. There are tracks in the front of the park, so we're talking less than a block or so from our site. I can't relay in words how loud their cautionary horns were. There were multiple trains that second night. Good times.
• You can successfully cook chicken noodle soup over a campfire. It was great!
• Those huge marshmallows that they sell now, you better have a good cooking fork. Once those things go molten, it's near impossible to keep them on a stick. They are perfect for smores though.
• Another tip: if they go molten and start to fall, DON'T TRY TO CATCH THEM WITH YOUR BARE HAND!
• When you get into small towns, like Harrisville, it's fun to visit their grocery stores. They're very different than the stores I'm used to. Their selection is small on most things. Harrisville has one grocery store, and I don't believe there's another grocer for at least thirty miles. Even in the neighboring towns, the stores are pretty basic.
• This IGA in Harrisville, they had a huge Michigan-based, micro-brewed beer selection. How very surprising. My wife and I love to sample micro-brewed beer. We drink about two bottles a week, and we share those two bottles. So, it's not about the buzz. It's about the flavor. We generally hate most big chain beers.
• They also had this rootbeer called Frostop everywhere I went up there. It's hard to find down this way, but I highly recommend it. They also make a Carmel Cream Soda that is like nothing I've ever drank before. 99¢ gets you a 40 oz.
• The first 40 I ever drank was a Cream Soda.
• The best part of my whole three-night camping experience: Taking Owen on a Snipe Hunt, just the two of us. Harrisville State Park has a great, semi-paved nature trail perfect for Snipe hunting in the dark. I told him that snipes were small, elf-like creatures with bright red noses. We walked about a block into the woods saying, "Snipe. Snipe. Snipe." After a while, I asked Owen if he'd remembered the cheese? Snipes won't come out if there's no cheese. We turned around, toward camp when the flashlight started to flicker. Did I mention the bats and skunks?
• Praying on a deserted beach with a full moon overhead, waves crashing just a few feet away - great experience!

Non-Camping Randomness:

• How can I put this nicely? Who loved the G.I.Joe movie? I was never a big fan, so this isn't a fanboy whine fest, but I watched the cartoon when I was a kid. I found the recent live-action movie comical on many levels, and I'm pretty sure it wasn't supposed to be. They're now making a sequel, and they've attracted some huge action-star names: Bruce Willis and The Rock. I guess it's a good sign. Maybe part 2 will be infinitely better.
• We were playing Apples to Apples with some friends the other day. Someone made the euphemism between coconuts and breasts. It wasn't me.
• The very next day we're driving on Miller Road, and for whatever reason, Gage points out Hooters. I think it was the owl that caught his attention. The boys wanted to know what kind of restaurant it was. I jokingly said they have coconuts. Owen replied, "They have milk in them!" Heidi and I laughed. The kids were puzzled.
• I never thought I'd do a post mentioning Hooters.
• I'm sure I'm guilty of not hearing the words coming from my mouth. Sitting at the play area in Genesee Valley Mall recently with the kids, a mom sits down near me. As her barefoot son runs up she says, "I sure wish you had socks to wear so you didn't have to walk around on this dirty flooring filled with the fungus of all these other barefooted kids here."
• Wow. So, my kids and the other children present were apparently quite dirty in her estimation, and she didn't feel ashamed at all to share that with the rest of us.
• She did leave pretty quickly after that, so maybe her words finally sunk in to her own ears.
• Before anyone points it out, I know, they're supposed to be wearing socks. I've also noticed that very few kids ever do in the Summer. Too many kids are wearing sandals.
• Socks and Summer do not go hand-in-hand.
• I like fish. I love pizza. I hate anchovies. Nasty.
• On a related, tongue-in-cheek note: I'm in mourning. My favorite pizza place in Davison, Rocco's Pizza, was sold last week. It's gone. Gone.
• I took the kids to a Vacation Bible School a few weeks back. I wore a t-shirt that says, "I don't go to church…" on the front, and "I am the church." on the back. It didn't wear it because I wanted to make a statement. It was really the only t-shirt I had clean that day. Every day there was this one lady that insisted I stay long enough to hear the opening worship songs. She said it was because she feared Gage would be more comfortable with me there, but I think she just missed the back of my shirt.
• Snipe. Snipe. Snipe.

Humbling Lessons

It was probably about four or five years ago that I decided I needed to be more actively helping people. That's when I started organizing street clean ups, diaper drives, donating to shelters. I wasn't doing this to impress God. I was doing it to know God better. If you want to see God, you find him in other people (my opinion).

For about a month, I'd get up and pray, "Lord, give me someone to help today." I'd go through my day, and people would literally show up at my desk asking for help. I WOULD TOTALLY MISS IT! They would actually use the word 'help,' and I would let it go over my head. I'd kick myself later on as the irony set in. People would say they needed help with work or with some home repair I was actually good at. Because I was looking for something grand, I'd overlook these little opportunities to be a good friend. It only made me more determined. I was going to help someone.

One morning, I prayed the prayer. I was alert all day. Nothing. It was freezing cold outside and sleeting as I left work.

I worked in downtown Flint at the time. It's a classic "downtown" with a main strip of older buildings, a few really tall ones. There are two busy times for Flint, the 8 a.m. influx and the 5 p.m. mass exodus. Traffic leaving the area is thick and cranky. 95% of people leave that area at 5 p.m. It's a ghost town after that. Most businesses, including restuarants and shops lock up shop at this time.

I was nearly to the freeway and freedom for the day. I passed a car that was stalled in the middle of the afternoon mess. It took me a few seconds, but I realized, here was a person in need. I turned around. Parked. Ran out into the traffic to see if I could help push.

It ended up being a young couple around 18 years old. The male was pushing. The female was steering. They had run out of gas.

At first the kid seemed surprised that I'd help. We had about a block to go before the gas station. Did I mention it was sleeting? Cars were honking at us. We were in the way of wall-to-wall traffic.

He started apologizing. He started degrading his girlfriend. It was all her fault. They had stopped at a friend's house for a quick exchange of some sort. They knew they were low on gas. He had told her to turn the car off and stay put. It took longer than expected, and when he came out, she had been circling the neighborhood. He started referring to her as "the dumb bitch." He continued to elaborate on his opinion of her and women in general. It wasn't pretty.

I tried to remind him that, if they were together, he must have some feelings for her. She must have some value. We all make mistakes. I shared that I have ran out of gas in the past.

He gave me a look like I was the dumbest person on earth.

There was a few minutes of silence after that.

As we pushed the car into the gas station, he turned away from me acting like I had never even been there. I told him to have a good day. He acknowledged me with a quick sneer, but didn't even say thanks. Apparently I was a fool for helping and a fool for thinking his girlfriend was anyone important.

I went home feeling like crap. On top of that, I got very sick the next day. I even had to miss work.

For weeks I thought about how crappy the experience had been. I had helped someone. It would have taken him much longer to push that car by himself. But it hadn't been a positive experience for either of us.

As time passed, I think I got the lesson. I can want to help people. I can even actually help them, but it doesn't mean they'll appreciate it. Does that mean I quit? I don't think that was the lesson. I think the lesson was to just reign in my expectations. Be realistic. Remember the type of world we live in. A good friend pointed out, perhaps the kid was just embarrassed. Perhaps my words even made him realize that it wasn't cool to bash someone he's supposed to love.

Others have pointed out, maybe I really helped the girl steering.

Or, perhaps it was totally pointless. I have to be willing to accept that because sometimes it might be pointless.

If I'm only helping others to make myself feel good, then my motivations are wrong. If I'm helping just to be a help, it shouldn't matter how I feel afterward or how they respond. I shouldn't be looking for a response.

Violence, Justice, Wrestling…

In the weeks that followed September 11th, 2001, many words escaped my lips that, even then, felt like they were being spoken by some anti-Brian. The words didn't feel like me. Other people told me as much back then.

I had been married for less than a year. Life was good for me. Planes crashing into buildings, that shook my world view, and I didn't like it. It opened my eyes to things I wanted to ignore. It opened up a reality I wanted to deny. I wasn't as safe as I had once thought. Fear, though certainly no stranger in life back then, seemed to grow legs in those days. I was sad too, but that wasn't as transformative.

Hitting that wall of reality made my tongue wag. I wanted justice. I wanted revenge. I wanted violence. I wanted blood. The words that escaped my tongue felt both wrong and right back then. They only feel wrong now. I feel too much shame to share them with you today.

The death of Osama Bin Laden should be something we all contemplate. This is a case where my faith butts heads with my patriotism. It's hard not to see the death of a violent person as a victory when he's caused you sadness and fear, but it's also hard to forget the lessons I've picked up on since then. Death removes the possibility of redemption as we know it.

Using violence to solve problems is easy, but I believe it costs us part of our souls. It's harder to avoid violence if it costs us our lives. So the question may be, what's more important our lives or our souls? Would we rather be a King Jr. or a Bin Laden?

My heart has changed. I feel now that my words were likely very similar to the words of those I sought to harm. I had become no different than my perceived enemy. They were killers, so I wanted them killed, making me a killer.

Justice is a tricky subject. It may sound cliche to say that only God knows the whole story, but I believe it. Even when someone is clearly committing acts of evil, we never know what every motivation might be. We think we do. Maybe there is no justification for evil, but maybe it's not right for us to judge anyway. Over and over again in scripture, God reminds us to be merciful.

I was a fairly new Christian back in 2011. I hadn't chased God much. There's been a lot of pursuit since then. Today, I can't see God being happy with further bloodshed. I can't imagine Jesus approving the outcome or methods. I don't think he wanted us to pray for enemies as we planned to shoot them in the head. It's hard to make a bullet loving.

I also became a father since 2001. My concept of love has grown in ways I can't put into words. If I love my kids so much that nothing they could ever do would take that love away, how much more does God love us? If God loves me, doesn't he love everyone, including terrorists?

If I find fault in a man because he caused so much death, how can I find comfort in even more death? To me, yesterday's death was just one more ugly event in a cycle of ugly events. I doubt the cycle has ended.

This world, this savage garden, it seems it will always leave me shaking my head in disgust, not just for the actions of others, but for the yearnings of my own heart. I thank God my heart is less stony today. I pray it's even less stony tomorrow.

One of my favorite moments from Poets, Prophets, and Preachers

Reconciliation as a Job

The following is a cathartic exercise (or maybe exorcise is better) of the mind for me. This idea has been intensely in the forefront of my mind this morning, and I need to get it in written form. I have to give it legs or I won't fully function in my normal day to day.

The ideas I'm expressing aren't my own. They've been presented over and over again in books and sermons. I'm just trying to put them in my own words.

My own thoughts might be incomplete by the end of the post, but I need to put them down, here, for now.

There's been a "controversy" lately about what hell might actually be, if it is at all. It seems like a lot of people have faiths that are very static. If you try to move or remove one piece, they act as if the rest falls apart. I think this is understandable, especially if you've grown up from an early age with religion and faith.

As someone that didn't, I try to keep my faith more flexible. There's a core, but the extended pieces aren't all that earth shattering. I like to question and wrestle with things. Even if I've resolved something personally, I like to think that I'm never beyond discussing and possibly questioning it all again.

So the whisperings have involved whether or not there is a literal hell. The suggestion has come up that the traditional view of fire and brimstone might be incorrect.

One of the most common responses in the past few weeks has been to quote John 14:6.

…

Jesus answered, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me."

…

Of course, there is more to the story than this one line. Jesus has just told his apostles that he's leaving, and they want to know how they can get to where he's going. He answers that he's going to be with God the Father. So, basically they're asking, how do we get to Heaven? Some would say that they're asking how they get in on what's coming next.

The assumption, and most common interpretation is that what Jesus says in his answer is that if you don't believe and follow him, you don't go to Heaven. Conversely, you must logically then go to hell(?).

What if that's not what he's saying at all?

What if what he's saying isn't a statement about us, but a statement about himself? Maybe he's saying "You want to get to God, and I'm going to get you there. That's my job!" He doesn't say he's doing this if you believe or do anything first. He's just taking on that role of getting people to God.

Throughout the Bible there are these scriptures about God wanting to reconcile all things to himself. Jesus is always talking about what God the Father has sent him to do. It's widely believed that this reconciliation is one of Jesus' primary responsibilities. If Jesus is a force of reconciliation, you might not need to follow him at all to actually tap into what he's doing.

It's also been suggested that people throughout history live out much of what Jesus taught despite never hearing of him. Perhaps what Jesus is saying in this line of scripture is that, if we're aligned with what he's doing, whether or not we've decided to follow him, we still get in on what's coming next because we're already helping to bring about the same results.

I don't think John 14:6 answers the question of hell. I don't think it even addresses hell at all. It certainly doesn't mention any of the common phrases that would be translated into the word 'hell' in English.

A Million Miles…

You can buy Don's book here, at Amazon.

A Great Book Now in Paperback

What story are you telling? from Rhetorik Creative on Vimeo.

Getting Burned by a Sermon

Peter Rollins has this way of building you up to something emotionally. When he gives a talk, he leads you down a path, and you think you know where it's going. Part way through, you're often angry or uncomfortable with what he's saying. Then, at the end, you often realize you had no idea where you were headed at all. It all makes sense in hind-sight and the emotional reaction you had was all part of the experience.

He gave a talk last week at Mars Hill in Eastern Michigan. It's a perfect example of his style. I urge you to check it out. You can download an mp3 or subscribe to the podcasts of Mars Hill.

http://marshill.org/teaching/2011/02/20/pyro-theology/

You should know that he's from Belfast, Northern Ireland. When it sounds like he says "zed," he means Z. He's also a funny guy. As inflammatory as he can seem on the surface, I have yet to disagree with him, and I always enjoy the wild ride of emotion.

Joan Jett, Hank III, Glasses, Randomness

• The political ads are killing me. I have to change the channel. They just seem much more extreme this year, like they're not holding back the crazier ideas.
• Our church is covering a book entitled, Emotionally Healthy Spirituality. We're not typically a church-wide, book-covering type of place, but right now our sermons and small groups are all centered around these ideas.
• One of the major themes involves learning to identify that part of you that usually has you concerned with what other people think. It's part of what the author calls a "false self." It's that part of you that gets anxious before interacting with certain people, wanting to have all the right answers and behaviors in order to impress. It's that part of you that doesn't really allow you to just relax and be yourself. I'm simplifying of course, but ever since getting into this idea, I've had that Joan Jett lyric playing in my head. "I don't give a damn 'bout my repu-ta-tion!" I can't seem to shake it. I really don't want to have to dig out Joan Jett CDs.
• She still puts on a great show however. Her new stuff isn't half bad.
• No. I'm not perpetually stuck in the 80's. I just went through a short phase a few years ago.
• Okay. I love my Cars greatest hits CD too and Jim Croce and The Cure…
• It is fun to attend Jett's shows and listen to the drunk, homophobic, old guys complain because they believe she's gay, suggesting she take a ride on their love train to "turn her around," and in the next breath, praise her for rockin' out. What would a concert be without drunk old guys?
• I recently went to see Hank III (Hank the third - Hank Williams Senior's grandson, Hank Williams Junior's son). My cousin, Jasen treated me to a ticket. Hank III has a diverse collection of albums. He started with an old country sound mixed with more modern, gritty themes, which I'm fond of. He has some albums that would more closely resemble modern hillbilly country - think rude and somewhat stereotypical. He also does country infused heavy metal.
• It was strange to see a mosh pit moving to the sound of fiddles. It was strange, but still appropriate.
• The crowd was just as diverse. Some people hated the older sounding stuff. They jeered at the instrumentals. I'm not really a fan of his metal sets, and some of the hillbilly stuff is just a bit too rude for me lately. It was great to see him live. He looks and sounds a lot like his grandfather.
• As an old concert veteran, I can tell you, when you see the guy wearing a confederate flag as a cape: That's the guy to avoid. Having witnessed it over and over again, the guy wearing a flag as a cape is most likely to continue his need for bold statements by punching innocent standersby in the face for little or no reason.
• The Machine Shop is a gem in this area.
• It's been a bad year for Halloween horror movies. I usually get myself into the spooky spirit by watching my old favorites. I decided instead to catch up on a few I'd missed. That's been a mistake. Apparently I missed them for good reason.
• I highly recommend the following modern gems: Splinter, Trick 'R Treat, The Mist, and The Crazies remake. Old favorites include: the original Halloween, Return of the Living Dead, Martin, Night of the Living Dead, and The Monster Squad.
• Did I mention that the political ads have been scary? One guy very openly stated that he wanted to get rid of the income tax. Sounds fine on the surface. Hey, less taxes, but isn't the income tax one of the few remaining mechanisms in place to somewhat level the field between rich and poor? If you earn more, you therefore contribute more toward running the country. Those who earn less keep more to survive on.
• He wants to replace income tax with a much higher tax on goods and services. They say this will initially cause most products to be priced so high that lower income families will struggle intensely, but "eventually the market will adjust itself" so $8 for a gallon of milk will just be common place.
• Owen's vocabulary is increasing by leaps and bounds. I think it's the glasses. He's also spelling words regularly.
• His glasses have had me down for a while. There, on his face, is a metaphorical reminder of all the bullying and torment I went through starting at his age. I'm just praying he escapes it, but more and more, he reminds me of myself.
• I chaperoned his first field trip a few weeks back. I was responsible for one other child. She just happened to be the girl he had mentioned having a little crush on. He was so shy. I had to coax him into talking to me that day. He seemed to be a bit of a loaner around the other kids too. I've got to think of a way to get him out of these habits.
• Gage has glasses too, but he doesn't need to wear his as often.
• Everyone is having babies again. I hope my wife doesn't get any ideas.

…Because I love my Babylon.

I love this song, and the entire Jacaranda album by Josh Garrels.

I did this lyrical breakdown as a graphic. The song is split into two halves.

The song is called, Zion & Babylon.

Click on the graphic to make it larger.

I live on both sides, but once I saw/felt/tasted/experienced Zion(Heaven) the value of anything on the other side diminishes quickly (and hopefully permanently).

You can listen to the song and the entire album, here.

The BM Fairy, Tea Partying, and The Cat in the Hat. My Random 2¢ this Week

• I'm still adjusting to Owen's school schedule.
• He didn't want to go back the second day. He didn't really have a concrete reason other than he seemed to resent the teacher's authority a bit. I had to dig out the old story my mom told me when I was his age. "If you don't go to school, Mama and Papa will get in trouble. The police will come and take us away for being bad parents." That actually did the trick.
• I asked him what he learned on his second day of school. His reply, "We learned that it's not okay to spit."
• The crossing guard is actually a hinderance to me. I find myself wanting to be polite by crossing the street with her assistance. In reality, it would be quicker and likely safer to just cut straight up the parking lot. It doesn't help that we're one of two families that actually walk our kids to school this year. She seems to know the other family personally. Dang crossing guard.
• Heidi commented that she thinks I get the boys up and moving way too early. I reminded her of all the "delays" that often come up when dealing with our children.
• I think we're going to have to start getting up even earlier. The Bowel Movement Fairy seems to show up about eight minutes before our latest departure window.
• All the other parents make me feel old. They're younger than me, but their kids are older than mine.
• Gage loves the buses. He races home shouting, "Come on! Come on!" He stands on the front porch and watches them drive past. It's like his own personal parade every day.
• Hurray for PBS. Another hit kids show started this season with The Cat in the Hat Knows a Lot About That. The cat is voiced by Martin Short. It has catchy songs. My kids love it.
• "Let's go-go-go-go on an adventure! The Thing-a-muh-jigger is up and away!"
• I locked myself out of the house a week ago today. It was a cold morning. I wore a jacket to drop Owen off and absentmindedly stuck my keys into the jacket. As I left the house later, I didn't need the jacket.
• On a related note, pay phones are almost non-existant anymore. Gage and I walked a mile before we found one. It was a crazy looking contraption owned and operated by a phone company I've never heard of. It was charging $1 per four minute call. The problem being, it never connected me with anyone, and it still kept my money.
• I ended up resorting to calling collect. Luckily my dad's answering machine recorded the computerized voice requesting his payment permission and my name. Not knowing exactly what was going on, he came running… without his extra set of keys.
• In hindsight, I should have asked one of my neighbors for help.
• On another related note, a cellphone might not be a bad idea. I hate just about everything about them. I already feel enslaved to this computer, email, Facebook…
• Luckily, we only pay $100 a year for the shared cellphone we already use. If we double that, we're still paying less in a year than many people pay for just a few months.
• I've heard a few stellar sermons lately. Here are a few links:
• Dave Flowers, our pastor at Wildwind Community Church did a great sermon called Love. And Hate.
• Mars Hill, a church closer to Grand Rapids, always inspires me too. Rob Bell hit one out of the park talking about the value of our older neighbors here. He references Trent Reznor and Johnny Cash too. The great story he tells at the end about last year's Pastor's Conference hit home. Having attended the conference, I had often wondered what happened to the pastor in the story. (I'm being vague on purpose).
• Peter Rollins joined him on this one. Rollins is one of my favorite speakers. Some see him as radical. I really don't see it. Maybe it's the accent.
• Warning: Political Material Ahead
• I noticed two guys on a street corner last Sunday. One of them had a bullhorn. The other had a very homemade looking, impossible to read sign. Later I heard that Sunday was the day many Tea Party members were holding curb-side rallies.
• I agree that neither Democrats or Republicans seem to be pulling off any miracles lately. I agree we might need more diversity in our political system, so I'm somewhat encouraged that a third, very slightly different party is at least winning some elections. I'm just really not encouraged by much that they're saying.
• I understand the fear that spend, spend, spend will have repercussions, but I want to hear what the alternatives are. I keep hearing that the Tea Party is unhappy with the current administrations ability to create jobs, which implies that they understand there is a lack of available employment opportunities. They then state that they're fed up with people on welfare and unemployment benefits because "those people should just get jobs." I don't understand that disconnect/contradiction.
• Yesterday they announced that poverty levels are extremely high and growing in our country. If we're going to stop "spend, spend, spend," spending less, what will be offered to these people? I sincerely fear that there are people out there that would be okay with "starve, starve, starve." A huge deficit is a bad thing for this country. I don't disagree with that, but leaving the economically lowest class to fend for itself would be worse in my opinion. It certainly wouldn't solve anything.

The church is a whore…

Disclaimer: Let me start off by saying that I know I'm not perfect when it comes to love/hate, grace/bigotry, acceptance/prejudice. I'm sure there are those of you that could point out some of my shortcomings when it comes to loving other people (and I would appreciate that by the way). The following is not meant to suggest that I've "arrived" or that anyone would mistake me for someone that has it all figured out. It's just a subject that's put my blood to boiling this week. Something I needed to write so maybe I can stop thinking about it quite so much this week.

"The church is a whore, but she is my mother." This quote is attributed to St. Augustine. I take it to mean that the church is messed up, but I love her perhaps because she made me what I am today. A friend of mine reminded me of this quote in an unrelated matter recently. It seemed appropriate for today's subject.

A few months ago famous writer Anne Rice announced that she was leaving the Christian church. She would still be following Christ, chasing after Him, spreading His love, but she couldn't deal with all the hate and dysfunction that she felt coming from her local congregations. Hatred and bigotry shouldn't run so rampant among people who believe that God is love. All too often it seems like it's okay to have ill feelings toward groups of people that don't believe the same things we do, or behave in ways we deem appropriate.

I should point out, to those that might not be familiar, that the term church can mean several different things. There are local churches, there are church denominations made up of hundreds and thousands of churches all over the globe, and there is the overall Christian church as a collective encompassing every Christian church all over the world. I believe Rice is severing ties with the overall church organization, or organized religion as some prefer.

I understood her point of view back then. I'm feeling it even more this week. Every channel you tune into is highlighting a single church that is planning on burning Muslim holy books on September 11th. They're also highlighting many other Christian pastors accusing Islam of being evil or a false religion. The overall message these people are pushing is that we're not a country with freedom of religion, and if we are, yours doesn't count.

There's also the churches that protest funerals carrying signs that claim God hates this group or that group. There are the Christian groups that seem to imply that abortion doctors should be put to death without exactly using those words.

Now, these are often the craziest of the crazy. It seems they always get the spotlight. You never see the countless positive things many churches, mosques, and synagogues do highlighted on the evening news. You usually only get the crazy crust, the fringe as some like to call it, spouting hatred and fundamentalism.

As a Christian, a Christ follower, there are these overarching messages that you would assume any Christian or church would adhere to: Love your neighbor. Love your enemy. Love each other. Don't judge. Don't condemn. God is love. God is forgiving. Not only share what you have, but give until you are denying yourself. Lose your life to find life abundant.

How do these messages translate into such negative actions? Burning the Koran? Denying people the right to build a building where they would seek out God? Co-opting funerals with God hates messages?

Even when the bigotry is on a smaller scale, how do you reconcile that with your faith when you encounter it in a church setting? I can testify to the fact that it does happen, even in the best of congregations. On a personal level, it's still very shocking to encounter. It's hard not to turn your back and hightail it out of that particular church, and maybe even that denomination.

The problem is, even in the best of churches, people aren't perfect, no where near. They're not supposed to be. They are supposed to be learning to embrace love and forget hate (I think there's an Ozzy lyric in there somewhere), but that takes time.

It's very hard when you're in a church setting (often outside of the actual church building and not on Sunday) with a group of Christians having just finished up a study of some sort on God's love and grace only to have a discussion start up that involves demeaning other groups of human beings simply because they are of a differing ethnicity or from a different geographical area. You have to wonder if you were the only one paying attention to the material you just covered.

I've often left those situations feeling that it was going to be difficult to return, to that particular setting or to even see those people on Sunday morning. It often bothers me for days. It's hard to take fellow Christians seriously when something like that occurs. Studying God's grace toward sin is difficult when you're expecting the people you're studying with to discuss how worthless certain groups of perceived sinners are shortly afterward.

I know people that would give a stranger the literal shirt off their back, but only if they were certain the stranger wasn't gay or a Muslim. You don't get this picture all at once of course. You see people do amazingly loving things, you marvel at their faith, and later you hear them say shockingly hateful words. It hurts, and it's hard, but you have to learn to extend grace in these situations. You have to just keep praying that their hearts continue to soften toward everyone, even their perceived enemies.

I've been lucky. I've found a good church. A church where I fit well enough. It's diverse, probably more so than most individuals realize on any given week. From one pew to the next you might find drastically different political views, different upbringing, different economic means, and different goals. It's a melting pot that seems to be stronger for its differences. Love and grace are evident. It's not perfect,. Our church suffers through its squabbles, but it has taught me that you have to hang in there. You see, those that hang on to old hatreds, they need those that have given in to love and grace. At the very least, they need you to be uncomfortably silent when off-color, unkind comments are made. It would probably be more appropriate to speak out, and in some cases I have - but it's hard. It's hard not to just jump ship, cut and run.

I understand where Anne Rice is coming from, and I suspect she'll continue to do good in this world, loving people, chasing after God. I can't give up as easily though. I pray there is hope even in the craziest of branches of this thing we call the church. I've seen hope in my branch. Since we're all connected, there has to be hope for the overall body. It's not easy. I was lucky to find a branch I could feel comfortable in. A good branch in my opinion.

A lot of people state that they wish more Muslims would come forward to speak out against the evil actions of a few, to speak out against terrorism. They say the lack of clear voices of opposition are evidence that the religion is itself in favor of such acts. Well, I'm guessing the same could be said of Christian churches that don't speak out against Koran burnings and Mosque protests. Let me be clear, as someone trying very hard to follow Christ, I don't see these things as loving. It's not loving our neighbors, and it's not loving to people we shouldn't see as our enemies in the first place.

I think we need to lock arms with those that are so often portrayed as our enemies and shout as loudly as possible that God is love, and no amount of anger, hate, or fear can change that. But that's just me. I'm just a little twig.

Randomness: August 26th, Owen Funnies

• Owen's eye is doing great! He's slowly gaining somewhat regular vision back. He may still need reading glasses, but that's nothing compared to what kids his age would go through thirty years ago.
• Surgery for both boys is coming up this next week. Any extra prayers would be appreciated. Anyone that knows Gage, you know we're in for a doozy of a week.
• We passed a funeral home in Mt. Morris last week. My mother-in-law stated that that would likely be the funeral home Owen's great grandparents would be using… when the time comes. Owen replied, "Are they going there today?"
• Yes, we laughed, and then prayed that the day doesn't arrive for years to come.
• Who knew loving your neighbor would involve butter?
• Should I clarify?
• The continued couponing often leaves us with a surplus of certain products. Prior to using coupons, we'd go through a tub of butter per week. Now, we're lucky to use one a month. I'm not sure why. I haven't figured that out yet. Butter is one of those things that you should never pay full price for. In fact, you should never pay more than about 29¢ for a tub. I've even gotten it for free. I'm trying to get in the habit of sharing our overstock with our neighbors. It keeps us… friendly.
• Coupons have also helped us donate way more items to local shelters. That alone will keep me going on this stuff. Being unemployed, I thought my giving days were over. Now, I'm giving more than I used to. Mysterious ways indeed.
• Owen came home from my dad's house last night. Apparently they had discussed beer (?). What is Sponge Bob teaching our kids again? Anyway, he randomly proclaims, as we sit down to dinner, that beer is illegal for kids to drink. We agreed, not really knowing where this was going. He kind of asked/stated that we were allowed to drink beer, and we explained that beer and alcohol were 'sometimes' things for us. Kind of like candy, alcohol is a sometimes thing. We really don't drink that often.
• He then asked for a drink. I remembered that he'd requested root beer earlier in the day. I didn't really think anything of it as I poured him a cup. I set it down in front of him, and he jumped up from the table. "I can't have that. It's illegal!"
• Did you ever notice how children prioritize their requests? They wait until they're in close proximity to you instead of when you are in close proximity to what they want you to do. For instance, waiting until you finally sit down to eat your dinner to ask you for a drink.
• If you're ever in the Peavyhouse Florida Room and it smells like someone used it as a bathroom, that would be my son Gage's doing. The initial success of his toilet training has become more hit or miss lately. If you're ever inclined to use the Peavyhouse Florida Room as a bathroom, they're surprisingly gracious about it. I'm pretty sure we're not getting invited over anymore.
• I've traveled up into the thumb (of Michigan) a couple of times this past week. I'm happy to see most of the area is still under developed. I can't wait to get back to hiking this Fall. I'm hoping to revisit Oscoda too.

Surgery Day Journal: Parenthood

From a journal entry: Monday, August 9th, 2010

Owen had his first eye surgery today. A hard day for us. We had to be to the Genesys Surgery Center (“The 600 Building”) at 6 a.m. Sleep wasn’t easy last night even though I felt pretty calm about what was coming.

We shipped Gage out to my parents’ house yesterday knowing that he would only add complications to an already complicated day.

Owen was thrilled to be awake so early. “It’s so dark out still,” he kept saying. He then told us stories about nocturnal animals including dinosaurs. I liked the one about the black T-rex that we needed to watch out for because he “eats all kinds of things.” I believe he was implying that we were included on the possible menu. It was all very random.

He was afraid of two things going in: The tube (IV) and the lasers that he thought would be shot at him. He was in good spirits in the waiting area. We were the first to arrive for the day. He enjoyed the fish tank.

Things got tense pretty quick when we went back into the pre-op area. He fought us on the one eye drop he had to get simply because the nurse said it might sting a little. It didn’t, and I wish she hadn’t even mentioned that part. It did dilate his eye rapidly.

She attached his blood pressure monitor without incident, but he freaked when she tried to attach his electrodes. She postponed them until after he was unconcious. They even gave him a huge lion balloon that floated in the room with us to calm him a little.

A young girl came in to get her tonsils removed. As we listened, we found we lived in a similar area. On Friday, Owen was stung by his first insect, likely a wasp or hornet due to the lack of stinger and multiple attach sites. This girl had been stung her first time over the weekend too.

The anesthesiologist was a fun guy, but Owen gave into fear when the guy started talking about going to sleep. That was enough to convince him that Owen needed a sedative to make sure he’d cooperate better. It made him loopy, but he was still pretty defiant. He moved around a lot more than he should have until they finally wheeled the bed away from us.

I had to hold back tears at that point. I hated that he had to go through all this.

Pam and my mom were in the waiting room with us. They must have recently remodeled the waiting room because they have a coffee and fountain drink bar there now. That was handy. It took about an hour for Dr. Stack to reappear with the good news that everything went fine.

Fifteen minutes later, they told us that he was waking up. He didn’t wake up happy. They had already had to re-tape his eye patch. He wasn’t opening his eyes, but he was combative. He wanted the patch off. As he awoke even more, he started to defy anything anyone said. Our nurse was convinced that we’d be in trouble if he had to wear the patch for 24 hours. I was worried too.

He wanted the patch off. He wanted the IV left in. He didn’t want a band-aid over the IV wound when the IV was out. He didn’t want his toy, stuffed wolf to wear a fake bandage, surgical mask, or hair net - which I thought was a great touch on the surgical staff’s part.

We left quickly after that. As soon as we were outside, all the fight went out of Owen. He was fine with the patch and everything else. He was still tired, but he stayed awake all the way home. He was pretty shaky for a few hours, not able to walk or sit up straight for very long.

So far, we’ve had no major pain issues. He’s annoyed by the patch, but he’s tolerating it fine.

We presented him with a toy, plush snake from the Rainforest Cafe in Great Lakes Crossing. He had seen it a few weeks back when he and I spent the day together down there. I traveled down there Saturday to pick it up. He seems to really like it. He says the snake looks angry. I told him it was really just concerned over his surgery. I then had to explain concerned, and then explain the word worried.

Owen’s energy level popped back up to normal quickly. He’s had visitors most of the day. Pam kept him the most occupied, which I’m grateful for. [Great] Grandpa and Grandma McBride brought him flowers and another balloon. My dad popped in with a Transformer. My mom is supposed to stop in later.

I don’t know how we’re going to get through this with Gage. We have a month to prepare, but it’s going to be hard. I don’t think he’ll tolerate the patch at all.

Heidi and Owen are napping right now. I’m very tired, but we have more company coming tonight. I’m behind on some other things too. Hopefully there’ll be more sleep tonight. We have to see the doctor in the morning to remove the patch.