time will fly away
it is given wings by the struggles of living among the dead and dying
it is consumed by the tangible intangible creatures who only crave more than they could ever take in.
then someone you love leaves, by choice or circumstance…
…and the memories - every last thing that you cherished about them -
they don’t change the vacancy in your heart.
(written for my friend Anna, on the anniversary of her father’s passing)
I’m having a dilemma of sorts.
This week I’m turning 35, and I realize as I sit at a Panera Bread in a town I don’t know (but will work in), that my parenting skills quite possibly suck. It doesn’t help that today is exactly the date that my adoptive boys have been home for FIVE months, that I have a household of four boys and a soon to be adopted daughter, and that I just might need to pull my head out of my ass long enough to develop a father-child gameplan.
I came to this disheartening revelation in something as holy (at least in theory) as a Bible study that I just started attending a few weeks ago. We were talking about where God “fits” into our level of things that we desire daily, and we had all come to the conclusion that He’s woefully low on the list. (As a quick aside, we’ve been reading Don Miller’s incredible book, “Blue Like Jazz“.) And while we all gave our deeply theological answers as to why that is, I blurted out something like, “What do our lives teach our kids about the character of God?” I don’t even know where that came from, but there it was. And by the disdainful look I got from everyone around the table (which was akin to as if I’d thrown a rotting fish on our breakfast table), I’d hit a sore subject.
Here’s what I mean.
My first-born son needed a spanking last night (yeah, we are a corporal punishment kind of family - and there are several reasons why). So, after he received his “fair share”, he was crying. And I’m OK with a little crying. Spankings aren’t fun events for anyone. And he yelled at himself for crying. I looked at him, and just wondered aloud why he thought it was necessary to stop himself from crying. His answer crushed my heart: “I want to show you that I’m brave.” Not the response I was looking for.
What message did I send to my little boy that made him think he had to be brave for me???
And the thought that I had almost a week ago thundered back into my head: “What do our lives teach our kids about the character of God?” I am struggling with this thought. It’s haunting me this week. He and I are going to spend some time together this weekend.
Just the two of us.
During our intermission at church this morning (you can tell that we’re a community chock-full of coffee addicts - we actually have an intermission in our service to GET MORE COFFEE), my pastor tapped me on the shoulder and asked me to read the Scripture verse of the day, and to encapsulate with words reminding our congregation at large that I was reading God’s holy writ - not an encyclopedia, a laundry list, or clever graffiti - God’s Word. I found the verse with a little fumbling (Peter likes to hide in the back, you know) and read it softly to myself so that I didn’t stumble over my words, and thus disengage the focus that should be placed on the Scripture to that stocky bald guy that couldn’t read two simple verses. While I read those verses, letting them linger on my tongue and in my mind, I came to a sad realization. Before I explain, here are the verses I read this morning:
“As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace: whoever speaks, as one who speaks oracles of God; whoever serves, as one who serves by the strength that God supplies—in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ. To him belong glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.” - I Peter 4:10-11
Peter is talking about something profound here - these unique things that God especially gifts to His kids to do work in His name. And these gifts are described as this - some people have a “word” ministry, meaning that they can preach well, teach well, encourage, and whatever other things someone who speaks well on behalf of God can do; and then there is a “deed” ministry, defined by folks who happily put shoulder to any task and joyfully execute.
So… why my sad disposition?
Well, I came from a place not too long ago that must’ve had a different understanding of those verses. And their understanding? Well, in the minds of a person or two that I talked with, those gifted with “word” ministry had better things to do with their time than shoulder a load that obviously belonged to those called to “deed” ministry. This all sounds very superfluous as I write it, so let me break it down by example.
I go to a church now that’s senior pastor preaches WELL. There is never a week where I don’t walk out with something fresh from his teaching. But this same senior pastor sacrifices much of his time during the week to the physical (and spiritual) needs of our church community and the city that surrounds us. He fills backpacks with food for the public elementary school that our church decided was the most needful - we found out that there were kids that shove their Friday lunches into their pockets so that they might have food for the weekend. So our church and pastor stepped up to the challenge of filling backpacks EVERY WEEK to make sure that those kids and their families don’t have to go hungry. If someone in the church is relocating, he’s the first guy to ask if he can help. If someone’s car is totaled in an accident, he lends his car (and I can PERSONALLY attest to this). And for a church that’s barely two years old, their presence in the local community and the world casts a long shadow that would be missed if the church left or our pastor walked away from the doing of Christianity.
In contrast, I was at a church before this experience whose best example of servant leadership was an associate pastor, a guy whose abilities spanned both sides of “word” and “deed”. But the senior pastor? Well, I was led to believe that “word” and “deed” are mutually exclusive, and really shouldn’t personally co-mingle. I would ask why this person never seemed to be at any ministry event that wasn’t a platform for him to speak. So the whole caring for widows and orphans thing - well, that was left to the “good folks” who felt the “calling” to care for widows and orphans. How about a short-term missions trip? Nope. Well, what about serving at the local orphanage? No… that’s the same day as my sermon prep, and I’ve got to be focused on that. Deliver holiday meals to the poor? Sorry - family is in town. Excuses ad nauseum.
My point is this: BASIC Christian service doesn’t really fall in the “deed” ministry category. Taking care of widows and orphans and the poor isn’t someone else’s Christian responsibility if you’re the senior pastor. A congregation will never breach the real gates of servanthood unless the person leading them has become a servant as well. As a pastor, the loudest most listened to message you’ll ever preach is the way you live your life. If your ministry life is too cluttered with the usage of your “gift”, take a step back and remember the basic tenets of the calling that you received - not as a pastor, minister, priest, etc. - but the calling that you have as a CHRISTIAN first. That calling cares less about your gifts and more about your heart anyway.
And for those out there that have forgotten that as congregants you have a job, this is a clear reminder: ALWAYS look for the fruit of the person leading you. Does it match with the BASIC calling on people of faith? If not, maybe IT’S TIME YOU SPOKE UP.
“How long do you put off thinking yourself worthy of the best things, and never going past the definitive capacity of reason? You have received the philosophical propositions that you ought to agree to and agreed to them. Then what sort of teacher are you still waiting for, that you put off improving yourself until he comes? You are not a boy anymore, but already a full-grown man. If you now neglect things and are lazy and are always making delay after delay and set one day after another as the day for paying attention to yourself, then without realizing it you will make no progress but will end up a non-philosopher all through life and death. So decide now that you are worthy of living as a full-grown man who is making progress, and make everything that seems best be a law you cannot go against. And if you meet with any hardship or anything pleasant or reputable or disreputable, then remember that the contest is NOW and the Olympic games are NOW and you cannot put things off any more and that your progress is made or destroyed by a single day and a single action.” - Handbook of Epictetus
Not every thought and principle in Epictetus’ little handbook is completely in line with a Judeo-Christian worldview, but this particular passage jumped out at me, and reminded me of a couple things - God’s mercy and His propensity to bless (or curse!) are renewed every morning. My tendency is to procrastinate about living, and focus my attentions on the dying of the day - the “just getting by” mindset, waiting for the struggle of the workday to end.
That is no way to live. Life is for living - Mailer puts it famously: “Every moment of one’s existence one is growing into more or retreating into less. One is always living a little more or dying a little bit.”
I want to live a little more every day, and spend less time procrastinating about being a better husband, a good daddy, a humble servant, a lover, a fighter, et al. It’s a process, sure. But the speed at which living life happens is dependent on my ability to submit myself to the notion of surrendering to the Life-Giver.
Just my random thoughts this morning.
Spend today LIVING.
My opinion doesn’t matter for too much, but to the players, to the movers and shakers, to the politico, to the strategists, to the ones whose plans constantly extend, to the ones who take joy in creating kingdoms on earth and neglect the one to come - this is for you.
“This line is metaphysical
And on the one side, on the one side
The bad have lived in wickedness
And on the other side, on the other side
The good have lived in arrogance
And there’s a steep slope
With a short rope
This line is metaphysical
And there’s a steady flow
Moving to and fro
Oh, look you earned your wings
Are you an angel, now
Or a vulture
Constantly hovering over
Waiting for the big mistake
Oh, my God, what have I done?
Oh, my God, what have I done?
Wouldn’t you love to be
On the cover of a magazine?
Healthy skin, perfect teeth
Designed to hide what lies beneath
I feel the darkness growing stronger
As you cram light down my throat
How does that work out for you
In your holy quest to be above reproach?”
“Magazine” - Pedro the Lion, from the album titled “Control“
Feel free to listen to the track in its entirety.
I’ve got a a few posts in the hopper waiting for a couple of things - some are waiting for me to get my editorial head out of my ass, others are waiting for me to come to a conclusion. And then there’s that promised review of Thrice’s “Alchemy Index” quadruple disc set - I have not forgotten about that.
To close this post though, I’m ending with Scripture, which is rare for me, as I’m of the opinion that God has enough “messengers” out there disseminating/distilling/dismantling some level of His truth, but I’m always brought back to the one integral maxim of Transcendr, that there is Something out there that is bigger than me. This is a message. And so, to quote a VERY wise man:
“Remember also your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come and the years draw near of which you will say, ‘I have no pleasure in them’; before the sun and the light and the moon and the stars are darkened and the clouds return after the rain, in the day when the keepers of the house tremble, and the strong men are bent, and the grinders cease because they are few, and those who look through the windows are dimmed, and the doors on the street are shut—when the sound of the grinding is low, and one rises up at the sound of a bird, and all the daughters of song are brought low— they are afraid also of what is high, and terrors are in the way; the almond tree blossoms, the grasshopper drags itself along, and desire fails, because man is going to his eternal home, and the mourners go about the streets— before the silver cord is snapped, or the golden bowl is broken, or the pitcher is shattered at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern, and the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit returns to God who gave it. Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher; all is vanity. Besides being wise, the Preacher also taught the people knowledge, weighing and studying and arranging many proverbs with great care. The Preacher sought to find words of delight, and uprightly he wrote words of truth. The words of the wise are like goads, and like nails firmly fixed are the collected sayings; they are given by one Shepherd. My son, beware of anything beyond these. Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh. The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgment, with every secret thing, whether good or evil.” - King Solomon, written in the 12 Chapter of Ecclesiastes.
I’m not quite sure what this means, but lately, I’ve been listening to a lot of the ridiculous eighties metal (and what might be considered “glam” metal) that I grew up on. It started with a couple of old Ozzy albums that a friend of mine gifted to me via MP3. Now, I think that there’s still some relevance to Mr. Osbourne - he still makes the headlines, even if it’s because he’s a drug-addled old man, who makes me laugh when he swears and picks up dog poo. Then I remembered some hidden away audio files - Metallica’s “Master of Puppets” and “Ride the Lightning” albums. So far, so good… right? Nothing too damaging to my cred for now liking indie/lo-fi rock. Yet.
And then it happened. Strangely - it was out of the blue, one Saturday morning as the kids were already bouncing off of each other and Heather and I were still bleary-eyed from lack of coffee. I was prepping for the recent weekend ritual of pancakes, when the craving hit: I needed some DOKKEN. And I needed it immediately. I needed some ridiculous George Lynch riffs on his custom skeleton ESP guitar, busting out “Mr. Scary” like it was 1987 ALL OVER AGAIN. I couldn’t resist the urge. And thankfully, the Pirate Bay made it totally possible for me to fulfill my overtly stuck-in-the-late-eighties-metalgeek needs. Yes, yes. I know. Someone reading this is wagging their head at me in shame. But, here’s my retort: I haven’t owned a cassette player in years to even play back the original TAPE that I purchased back in 1987. And, um, I can’t seem to locate the tape either. So… I’m sorry, OK?!? I ganked a BAD 80’s glam metal album from a torrent. I admit it. There’s something fundamentally wrong with me. But oh, the rapturous glee that I had the first time I got to blare “Kiss of Death” from the iPod in my car - words really can’t effectively communicate. We’ll just leave it with the little tear that formed in my right eye as I headed off to work, transported back to a time when I was more concerned about getting caught smoking than parenting 4 boys and being a good husband.
Does any of this qualify me to be a great reviewer of music?
Probably not.
Instead, I could have blabbered about my own musical past and recollect on the countless number of bands that I was in, back in that place called “the day”. That would have definitely given me more street cred. I could have mentioned that I was one of the original members of a band that eventually became “something” - it would have given me more name-brand recognition.
But, I don’t want to approach this additional Transcendr content like a wannabe has-been. I’m just like most of the people who read this blog; maybe a bit broken, maybe a bit frustrated, maybe a little afraid. And so, when I do review something, I am looking for it to transport me away from where I am right now, or confirm the fact that I’m not alone where I am. That’s what music and art and movies and even most books are supposed to do. And if those things instead confirm that you are indeed one of the crazy ones, then revel in your insanity for awhile with me.
Next week: we’ll talk about Thrice, and their quadruple-disc musical opus, The Alchemy Index, Volumes 1-4.
See you then?
I’m going to start a review section of books and music (and maybe even some movies) with the eye of a Christian who’s been burned by the Church, is over God’s “children” (aka His spoiled brats), and desires something a little deeper from the Source. I’m calling it “Perspectives from the Transcendr”.
Free thinking Christianity isn’t free. You’ll pay for it with your sanity, and by becoming a spiritual pariah.
Want to join me?
This particular post has taken me a long time to complete. That frustrates me to no end. On the flip side, I seem to find more evidence to lend credence to this article. It’s a Catch-22 that this post lingers, but I’m thankful for it, and soon you’ll see why.
So… to begin:
For the last 8 or 10 years of my life, I have been a card-carrying Republican.
There.
I said it.
Can we move on now? Please?
I’m here to tell you that there has been something skewed in the Republican party for awhile now, and since we’re looming closer to an election, I thought that I might address one aspect of where this party - at least for me - has gone off the rails.
I wonder how many of my brothers and sisters are able to recall the lengths that the our government and the media went to, in order to remind us all - especially in a post-911 world - that our president was a man of “faith”. There were images of the W praying. Everywhere. There were cameras rolling as the President thoughtfully engaged people (with that tell-tale furrow in his brow) on matters of God. Altruistic hugs and tears and touching words - all of it seeming to end with those three mantra-ish words: “God bless you…” Rumors circulated all over the internet about conversions that he instigated; some of the grist mill came dangerously close to calling him the Great Apostle of America.
Now, before I cause an uproar with any people of faith that somehow fell into my quagmire, let me just say that the intent of this post isn’t to judge the personal relationship that Mr. Bush may or may not have with Christ, His Dad, or the Ghost. I just want to jar you a little bit, and beg you to THINK before you go to the polls in November.
But first, a short history lesson.
(Unfortunately, there are many Christians who won’t pick up any book other than their Bible or other “approved” Christian literature (fiction, devotionals, books on daily living, prophecy, etc.). So there is a *vast* majority that will look at me with their own quizzical furrow when I mention the name of “Constantine”. And really, that’s a shame.)
Constantine was a brilliant strategist, a military might, and a political genius. He was also a Roman emperor in the early 4th century. The following quote is from Bruce Shelley’s book, “Church History in Plain Language“:
“Upon the death of Galerius (one of the reigning emperors at the time of Constantine’s succession), a struggle for imperial power broke loose. In the spring of 312, Constantine, the son of Constantius Chlorus, advanced across the Alps to dislodge his rival Maxentius from Italy and to capture Rome. It was a daring gamble; and when he came upon his militarily superior enemy at the Milvian Bridge, just outside the walls of Rome, he turned for help to the God of the Christians. In a dream he saw a cross in the sky and the words, ‘In this sign conquer.’ This convinced him to advance. When on 28 October 312 he achieved his brilliant victory over the troops of Maxentius, Constantine looked upon his success as proof of the power of Christ and the superiority of the Christian religion.
Some historians have considered Constantine’s ‘conversion’ a purely political maneuver. Plenty of paganism remained. He conspired; he murdered; he even retained his title Pontifex Maximus as head of the state religious cult.”
What Shelley doesn’t mention here is this: Constantine needed to muster some serious troops, and fast. He was outgunned and outwitted by his old nemesis, Maxentius. Realizing that he was in a territory populated with Christians apathetic to the Empire - after all, the Empire was the source of so much of their persecution - that quick military mind devised a fairly clever scheme: if he could just rally the Christians that surrounded him, he just might have a chance of defeating Maxentius. But how? Knowing from his experiences at court - that Christians were a “miracle-inspired” bunch - Constantine dredges up the most polarizing symbol of the early church: the Cross, and declares that it came to him in a vision, with the words “In Hoc Signe Vinces” - translated from the Latin: “IN THIS SIGN, CONQUER”.
And thus ends this little history lesson. The application?
In commentary that first appeared on his blog on August 16, 2007, Bill Moyers candidly spoke out against a different Texan than his usual target. This one? Karl Rove. But why is this relevant to our discussion about Constantine? I encourage you to read Moyers’ short commentary.
However, to briefly summarize:
Moyers postulates that Rove is at best (and by his own admission), an agnostic. The once great saint of the current administration may not even have a relationship with God:
“At his press conference this week he asked God to bless the President and the country, even as reports were circulating that he himself had confessed to friends his own agnosticism. He wished he could believe, but he cannot. That kind of intellectual honesty is to be admired, but you have to wonder how all those folks on the Christian right must feel discovering they were used for partisan reasons by a secular skeptic, a manipulator.” (emphasis mine)
Now, if you were a conservative Christian in 2000, and again in 2004, you knew that you had one responsibility: no matter what, George W. Bush had to be elected. And how did you get that message? Why, he was the “Christian” candidate! How else could right-wing conservatism hope to beat Al Gore, who was riding the tide of happy liberalism? More so, how else could he defeat even the oatmeal-ish John Kerry, in the midst of an “incursion” that was going poorly? Rove did what he knew best (again, as hypothesized by Moyers - this practice of appealing to the faithful got Bush elected twice to the Governor’s office in Texas) - pander to the Christians, make GW the next American Constantine, and know that if he played his cards right, and flew that Cross up when it was necessary, victory was destined to be sweet.
Did it work? History will be a better judge than I could ever hope to be. It sure seems like it though. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been left with that just-sucker-punched-in-the-stomach feeling. We’ve been had. And, as it’s destined to do, history is repeating itself.
Go back, review the footage and see if the things that John McCain says - the nominee that the religious right is propping up now (when just a scant few months ago, he was scorned by that same crowd!) - match what you as a person of faith WANT to hear.
Then ask yourself: Is this the heartfelt opinion of a man who is truly passionate about his faith, or is this the political maneuvering of yet another statesmen who understands, “In this sign, Conquer?”
“We’ll be fighting in the streets
With our children at our feet
And the morals that they worship will be gone
And the men who spurred us on
Sit in judgement of all wrong
They decide and the shotgun sings the songI’ll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around me
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I’ll get on my knees and pray
We don’t get fooled again!” - The Who, “Don’t Get Fooled Again”
So.
Which is the more “spiritual”? Is it:
a) Going to yet another church, in the hopes of finding something that might resemble home?
OR
b) Taking the car-full of kids to Chuck E. Cheese really early, and letting them goof off to their hearts’ content?
I know. There’s no real comparison between the two. I mean, seriously - isn’t Chuck E. all powerful?
Lately, I’ve been dealing with a problem regarding perspective. And it started with my glasses.
I’ve been actively wearing glasses since about the age of seventeen. And after spending years having to make the switch between sunglasses and my regular prescription, I took the plunge, got Transition lenses, and anti-glare coating, and the anti-scratch coating as well. It was ridiculous. I went to one of those 1-hour eyeglass stores. It took them 3 days. And $500.
About two months ago, the anti-glare coating started to scratch. And by scratch, I mean deep swirls and grooves making it difficult for me to focus on anything. I ended up with near-daily headaches, as my eyes constantly tried to adjust to my monitor, or traffic, or whatever it was just beyond the scratches.
I finally made an appointment to see an eye doctor - it’s been a few years since the last exam and all - and while I was waiting to see the doc, one of his assistants says to me, “You know, there’s a place just down the [insert major highway here] that can remove the anti-glare coating from your glasses. That’ll resolve about 99% of your problem.”
I made the quick decision to NOT spend a ton of money (that we really didn’t have) on a new set of lenses and frames. I went to a second eyeglass store and got the royal hookup. Not only was most of the anti-glare coating completely eliminated, but the optician did the service (over two hours of work!) for free. I was blown away.
Christians in my life seem to have similar problems with perspective, and EVERYONE ends up with a headache in that scenario. Lately, this has manifested itself on the specific subject of suffering.
Since making our move to Central Florida - away from “friends”, family, a successful business - literally everything we knew and loved - things have been difficult. And by difficult, I mean that painful question-your-sanity-on-a-daily-basis kind of difficulty. We took a fifty percent salary reduction because we were looking for a new adventure for our family - life, and the experiences that make it rich, are born and bred in risk. And we knew that we were taking a couple. One thing that we didn’t gamble on was the assuring words of an employer that STILL haven’t come to pass. My ability to make money is significantly limited by the mindset (which is neither good or bad) of the community I’m surrounded by.
We moved into a house that from the exterior, looked beautiful - no less than a dream - which promptly turned into one of the biggest nightmares that we’ve had to endure. It was infested with mold, managed by a woman who by all evaluation was clinically insane, and slowly sucked the life and happiness out of our entire family. Even the dogs.
So, five months after our adventure began, we were moving again.
In the middle of all of this chaos, I found my biological Dad - I haven’t seen him in over 30 years. And at the same time I also found out that I have 4 half-siblings. In an unfortunate twist of fate, they all live about 30 minutes from where we lived before the Central Florida adventure began.
Since this change in our familial direction, I’ve been betrayed by close friends (”godly” ministers), had my character driven through the mud, been financially and emotionally broken, and struggled with some serious anxiety. I even gave myself an ulcer.
Now, you need to know that I’m not telling you all of these maladies in a bid for your sympathy. I’m just setting the stage, so I’ll beg the court for patience.
I’ve had the Christian people in my life come to me, either casually or pointedly, to ask me one simple question: why don’t you give up and come home? “Aren’t you seeing the signs - God never wanted you to make this move, take this job, leave your friends, etc. Can’t you see that you’re suffering, and that your family is suffering along with you? You could alleviate all of this by simply coming back to your easy existence, back home!” If I only had a nickel…
Suffering.
That’s an interesting word.
In the theology that I learned (remember - I’m just credits shy of that degree), suffering is the preferred path. Hardship isn’t an unexpected outcome - it’s the goal, and what’s even more disturbing, it’s supposed to be embraced. There are accounts throughout holy literature that attest to this very maxim - suffering is a stamp of approval, a symbol that a divine task is at hand. Regrettably, American Christians have been fattening themselves at the table of Burger King spirituality: have it YOUR WAY NOW. At the earliest sign that something might go awry - give up, run away, change course, lay down your arms, whatever. For God’s sake - don’t ever fight or resist or revolt against the lowest common denominator of the human persona (that sickly sweet pride that’s always maneuvering you out of the way of confrontation). Heaven forbid that you might just have to spend time working some shit out. It appeases something foul in my nature when I surrender to circumstances. It’s the poorest example that I could ever give to my children. And yet, this is the common “prescription” (if you will indulge the analogy) from those influential Christians in my life. They’re all turning into *those* people: the ones that expect you to come to church pre-cleaned, dressed in your finest, prepared to encounter God’s white glove inspection of your appearance - even if your life is hellish at the moment. Because that’s reality, right? Certainly, Jesus behaved the same way…?
We’re not tough anymore. We’ve gotten so flaccid and had our wills atrophied to such an extent, that we’ve become cowering shrews. No one knows how to fight anymore, and we feel that it’s our responsibility to warn others not to do so as well. There’s a God-given right, for you! Where are the people who are pillars of strength and possess a little fucking fortitude? Where are the heroes? Have we shouted them down with our apathy?
I don’t want to live like that.
The character of my kids is at stake every time I look “suffering” in the eyes. What kind of men will they be, if they only ever saw their Dad back away from the most important fights? I shame my boys and my responsibility to parent them to be dreamers when I exit the battle when I should be sharpening swords. We spend an entire lifetime creating our perspective, without ever engaging ourselves enough to consider the implications of looking at life through that perspective (could we ever admit to being wrong?), and rarely - if ever - considering the perspective of the God who gave us life.
Our lives are lived in a valley of perspectives. Yours, mine, and the truth.
