I know some of you are wondering how you can help out the victims of Katrina. Christ's Church will be collecting a special offering this weekend, as many churches will most likely do. But if you want a more specific point of contact, the Journey Christian Church is a new church in the New Orleans area. You can read about what they;ve been going through on their website. Because of the infrastructure in New Orleans, they're having all people who want to donate funds through a church planting organization in California called Stadia. I would vouch for both of these organizations as places where your donations could be used for great good.
The Reason for the Seasons
It's almost official: summer's over. What a drag.With the launching of exploding projectiles on the banks of the Ohio River this Sunday night [try not to lose an arm, BCoates], summer officially comes to a close in the Greater Cincinnati area. True, we're about to embark on my most favoritist season of them all- the one I long for. I love it when the weather turns a tad cooler, the leaves begin to change colors and football rules the land. Fall's a joyful thought indeed, but not even a phosphorous waterfall cascading from a bridge can keep my mind from dwelling on the artic season to come. Autumn seems to evaporate all too quickly as winter enters the fray. Before you know it, it's freaking cold outside, your nether regions begin to freeze over and you long for the warmth of the sun. Fortunately though, it doesn't stay cold forever. Eventually the trees will turn green again, you'll begin to thaw out, and you can sense summer coming once more.
Despite all my whining, I love changing seasons. I wouldn't trade them for anything. Most people feel differently. Some people despise the changing seasons so much that they try to eliminate them from the equation. Observe these Northerners that move south to coastal regions with tropical climate. They think they're besting the system until something like a hurricane disrupts their lives. Then they long to be back north.
As I wonder why God gave his changing seasons, I keep coming back to this sense of longing that's within us; this innate desire for something more. Maybe it's just me, but many times I can't wait for the future because there's the chance it could be way better than it is now. I tie myself into a Scarlet O'Hara philosophy that believes, "Tomorrow is another day". However much we enjoy this present reality, we're hoping [or longing] that what to come will be even better. Of course, what we fail to think is that it could be much worse. But whether it's the weather [nice word selection] or one's financial situation, few people are content with now; we're never fully satisfied.
So is this longing, this lack of contentment, God's way of showing us that there's something more than this world? Are the seasons just another way that God has imprinted His message on our hearts so we can figure out that He's there? It's this longing for more, this uneasiness that it's not all right down here, that should get us thinking about who's running this world [for those of you not clicking yet, it's God, not the other guy].
I'm not going to take the time to fully work through this thought, but I hope you're able to track what I'm saying here: as much as I hate the thought of it getting colder, it serves a purpose. It's yet another window by which we can observe God moving. I believe God is the answer to this longing in our lives. However crazy the world is, it makes the most sense through Him.
And, if anything, we get to wear sweaters in the winter, and that's pretty cool. So praise the Lord and bring me a turtleneck. I'm ready.
The Hardcore Core
How did the church start?
The answer I learned in Mrs Elliot's fourth grade Sunday School class, was "with the Holy Spirit on the day of Pentecost." This Jewish festival day, almost two thousand years ago, was when the Holy Spirit first entered into the followers of Jesus, allowing them to speak the message of Jesus in foreign languages that they previously hadn't known. This display spawned the crowd to accuse the disciples of public intoxication, but Peter was able to parlay the charge of drunkenness into a sermon opportunity. The result: three thousand people were baptized in Jesus' name. You can read all about it in Acts 2:1-41.
But my personal answer to the "how did the church start?" question precedes the Pentecost experience. I like to think it occurred about ten days before that, as told in Acts 1:6-11. The eleven disciples [remember Judas was dead at this point] were with Jesus, grilling Him about the future of Israel. Jesus told them that His plans weren't limited to Israel, that they would take His message into all the world. No sooner did Jesus finish saying this and, better than the ending of a Las Vegas show, Jesus exits stage left [or I guess, more accurately, stage up], ascending into heaven. The eleven guys are left there, gazing up at the sky with no idea what they're now going to do. I've always wondered how long they stood there because God finally sends an angel to interrupt them and say, "Go do something already." Brilliant. I love to claim that as the beginning of the church because it was about people having no idea and God knowing exactly was to come. It would be His Church. That's how I'd say it started.
So years from now, the question might be asked, "How did Echo Church start?" And we'll be able to respond in a similar way: with eleven people having no idea what to do [figuratively] gazing into the sky.
We met last night as a core group for the very first time. Like I said, there were eleven of us there [Aaron's wife Dorota would've made twelve; she just left for a five week trip to her native Poland]. I wasn't quite sure what to expect, but it was awesome. We didn't do anything flashy; we just read some Scripture, chatted, and prayed. But it wasn't about what we did last night, it was about what happened. God brought some people with a similar passion together in the same room at the same time to begin something new for him. We were able to pray to Him for the community and what will happen in the weeks and months to come. Like I said, we come to Him clueless, acknowledging that this will be His Church.
The morning after, I'm still excited because it's more real now than it's ever been. One of the things I said last night was that, whatever the future holds for Echo, that we were there at the beginning. So as we continue on this journey and are able to have some "rear-view mirror moments," this will be a wonderful one.
So I'm cool with eleven. It's rather Biblical.
The answer I learned in Mrs Elliot's fourth grade Sunday School class, was "with the Holy Spirit on the day of Pentecost." This Jewish festival day, almost two thousand years ago, was when the Holy Spirit first entered into the followers of Jesus, allowing them to speak the message of Jesus in foreign languages that they previously hadn't known. This display spawned the crowd to accuse the disciples of public intoxication, but Peter was able to parlay the charge of drunkenness into a sermon opportunity. The result: three thousand people were baptized in Jesus' name. You can read all about it in Acts 2:1-41.
But my personal answer to the "how did the church start?" question precedes the Pentecost experience. I like to think it occurred about ten days before that, as told in Acts 1:6-11. The eleven disciples [remember Judas was dead at this point] were with Jesus, grilling Him about the future of Israel. Jesus told them that His plans weren't limited to Israel, that they would take His message into all the world. No sooner did Jesus finish saying this and, better than the ending of a Las Vegas show, Jesus exits stage left [or I guess, more accurately, stage up], ascending into heaven. The eleven guys are left there, gazing up at the sky with no idea what they're now going to do. I've always wondered how long they stood there because God finally sends an angel to interrupt them and say, "Go do something already." Brilliant. I love to claim that as the beginning of the church because it was about people having no idea and God knowing exactly was to come. It would be His Church. That's how I'd say it started.
So years from now, the question might be asked, "How did Echo Church start?" And we'll be able to respond in a similar way: with eleven people having no idea what to do [figuratively] gazing into the sky.
We met last night as a core group for the very first time. Like I said, there were eleven of us there [Aaron's wife Dorota would've made twelve; she just left for a five week trip to her native Poland]. I wasn't quite sure what to expect, but it was awesome. We didn't do anything flashy; we just read some Scripture, chatted, and prayed. But it wasn't about what we did last night, it was about what happened. God brought some people with a similar passion together in the same room at the same time to begin something new for him. We were able to pray to Him for the community and what will happen in the weeks and months to come. Like I said, we come to Him clueless, acknowledging that this will be His Church.
The morning after, I'm still excited because it's more real now than it's ever been. One of the things I said last night was that, whatever the future holds for Echo, that we were there at the beginning. So as we continue on this journey and are able to have some "rear-view mirror moments," this will be a wonderful one.
So I'm cool with eleven. It's rather Biblical.
Theft and Sensibility
It's tough to ignore the tragedy in the south in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. I've never seen such widespread devastation on American soil in my lifetime. It's time's like these that I love to see the church [universal] mobilize and reach out to those in need. It's a great testimony of Jesus.
I'm not sure how this might come out but I find it interesting that, with so much destruction and death around, the media have chosen to devote so much coverage to the looting going on in New Orleans. They're basically saying, "we can't believe that someone would take advantage of this situation and steal from stores." If you haven't seen it yet, I think Fox News is showing it on a loop.
You might think me crazy [apparently it's going around] but let me step out on a limb and defend these looters. I know all the arguments as to why their thievery is wrong, in addition to the obvious Ten Commandments reasons. Yes, the stuff isn't theirs in the first place. Yes, it's against the law. Yes, it's unfair to the store owners. Yes someone has to pay for it [we'll all be paying for it in higher insurance premiums and federal aid, whether or not these people steal]. But, then again, it's pretty easy for us to judge them while watching it on cable tv, lounging in our [dry] recliners.
But I find this situation somewhat different than others; this is not your normal looting situation. They're in the midst of a national disaster. Just check out the film they keep showing of the looters: they're not swiping TV's and stereos, they're taking food and clothes. After losing everything of the little that they had [25% of families there live below the poverty line] they're trying to survive.
So before you get all holier than thou and begin to pointing a finger honestly answer this question:
What would you do?
If your kids were starving, their clothes were ruined and it will take days for aid organizations to help you out, would you steal for them? Friends, I'm a minister. It's my job to take the moral high ground. But if all hope was lost and it was a situation between life and death for my family, I'm not sure I wouldn't be joining that mob.
So go ahead and rip me as a bleeding-heart liberal, but with all that's going on down there, you're telling me that this is the major problem? I'm not saying it's right, but I have a hard time saying it's wrong.
I'm not sure how this might come out but I find it interesting that, with so much destruction and death around, the media have chosen to devote so much coverage to the looting going on in New Orleans. They're basically saying, "we can't believe that someone would take advantage of this situation and steal from stores." If you haven't seen it yet, I think Fox News is showing it on a loop.
You might think me crazy [apparently it's going around] but let me step out on a limb and defend these looters. I know all the arguments as to why their thievery is wrong, in addition to the obvious Ten Commandments reasons. Yes, the stuff isn't theirs in the first place. Yes, it's against the law. Yes, it's unfair to the store owners. Yes someone has to pay for it [we'll all be paying for it in higher insurance premiums and federal aid, whether or not these people steal]. But, then again, it's pretty easy for us to judge them while watching it on cable tv, lounging in our [dry] recliners.
But I find this situation somewhat different than others; this is not your normal looting situation. They're in the midst of a national disaster. Just check out the film they keep showing of the looters: they're not swiping TV's and stereos, they're taking food and clothes. After losing everything of the little that they had [25% of families there live below the poverty line] they're trying to survive.
So before you get all holier than thou and begin to pointing a finger honestly answer this question:
What would you do?
If your kids were starving, their clothes were ruined and it will take days for aid organizations to help you out, would you steal for them? Friends, I'm a minister. It's my job to take the moral high ground. But if all hope was lost and it was a situation between life and death for my family, I'm not sure I wouldn't be joining that mob.
So go ahead and rip me as a bleeding-heart liberal, but with all that's going on down there, you're telling me that this is the major problem? I'm not saying it's right, but I have a hard time saying it's wrong.
Got a job!
I'm happy to announce that I won't be unemployed after leaving Christ's Church. Yesterday I was hired at the Panera Bread in Hyde Park. I'll do my training next Saturday morning and start regularly on Monday Spetember 12th. More on this to come in the weeks ahead.
Dumb
Since we've announced our move, we've had an incredible amount of encouragement from people, reaffirming the decision to start Echo. It's been incredibly reassuring since I feel that we're laying ourselves out and taking a risk. I cherish all the positive words but, like in everything in life, it's the negative comments that ring loudest in your ears. There have been people that have made some ridiculous statements [not about us personally, but about what we're doing]. I'd like to share one such conversation I had with someone a few days ago. Please understand before I get into this that I've dismissed the comments as ludicrous, but I think it could prove helpful to address some of the claims.
This person, a man in his fifties who could be perceived as a mature Christian, came up to me shaking his head. The first words out of his mouth were, "I can't believe you're that crazy." Obviously, he had no idea who he was talking to, but I let him continue with little interruption. I might not nail his exact words, but here's the first junk he said to me:
"I can't believe you're going down there to work with 'those people.' I work with 'those people' at my job. They're out of their minds. You need to be careful about that place because, believe me, the armies of darkness are taking it over. It's downright dangerous down there."
One thing I've learned over the years from living in a more prejudiced part of the country is that any reference made to "those people" is usually not meant to be about plumbers. The racist detection meter in my mind becomes to turn on in anticipation of a slur. But at this point, I'm still operating under the assumption that he could be referring to impoverished people. Sometimes people say things that don't come out just right and I try to give them the benefit of the doubt [for instance, as for the "armies of darkness" comment, I instantly thought of the Bruce Campbell movie that I first saw a couple of years ago with some friends in Florida. The best quote, "Gimme some sugar, baby"].
Anyway, I stop the guy and tell him that's exactly why we're going down there, to prevent the "armies" from taking over. We're going to set up shot, talk about Jesus and see if that changes the neighborhood. Unfortunately my racist detector was accurate, for he continued:
"You can try all you want, but I doubt it'll do any good. I know how those people are. And the worst are their ministers. I went to a funeral one time at a church down there and the minister said, 'the reason this guy died is because of whitey. And the only reason you whities is here is because you feel guilty.' So go ahead down there and try, but it'll be about impossible. And it's dangerous, too."
At this point I did my duty and beat the man to death with a shovel.
OK, no I didn't, but I sure did want to.
I actually stood there and pretended to listen to his comments while nodding my head. It took a couple of more minutes of listening to that crap before I could work my way out of the conversation and far away. No, I didn't refute him and you could say that I didn't do my part to correct a brother who was wrong. But I was so angry that I was either going to ignore him or tear him to shreds. And for the next two weeks I'm still a minister at Christ's Church and I don't want to do anything that would reflect poorly on the church. But if this were a few weeks from now, I might indeed have warmed the back of my shovel with his nose.
I don't have the energy to deal with this subject in this posting, but racism is one of the biggest problems the church faces. And, this is the worst part, it's taking place from within. Some of the most racist people I've met are regular church goers. It makes me want to puke. Like I said, gimme a couple weeks and I'm not going to have to take it anymore.
Until our churches repent and do their best to rid the racism within, how can we ever expect to experience the blessing of God?
This person, a man in his fifties who could be perceived as a mature Christian, came up to me shaking his head. The first words out of his mouth were, "I can't believe you're that crazy." Obviously, he had no idea who he was talking to, but I let him continue with little interruption. I might not nail his exact words, but here's the first junk he said to me:
"I can't believe you're going down there to work with 'those people.' I work with 'those people' at my job. They're out of their minds. You need to be careful about that place because, believe me, the armies of darkness are taking it over. It's downright dangerous down there."
One thing I've learned over the years from living in a more prejudiced part of the country is that any reference made to "those people" is usually not meant to be about plumbers. The racist detection meter in my mind becomes to turn on in anticipation of a slur. But at this point, I'm still operating under the assumption that he could be referring to impoverished people. Sometimes people say things that don't come out just right and I try to give them the benefit of the doubt [for instance, as for the "armies of darkness" comment, I instantly thought of the Bruce Campbell movie that I first saw a couple of years ago with some friends in Florida. The best quote, "Gimme some sugar, baby"].
Anyway, I stop the guy and tell him that's exactly why we're going down there, to prevent the "armies" from taking over. We're going to set up shot, talk about Jesus and see if that changes the neighborhood. Unfortunately my racist detector was accurate, for he continued:
"You can try all you want, but I doubt it'll do any good. I know how those people are. And the worst are their ministers. I went to a funeral one time at a church down there and the minister said, 'the reason this guy died is because of whitey. And the only reason you whities is here is because you feel guilty.' So go ahead down there and try, but it'll be about impossible. And it's dangerous, too."
At this point I did my duty and beat the man to death with a shovel.
OK, no I didn't, but I sure did want to.
I actually stood there and pretended to listen to his comments while nodding my head. It took a couple of more minutes of listening to that crap before I could work my way out of the conversation and far away. No, I didn't refute him and you could say that I didn't do my part to correct a brother who was wrong. But I was so angry that I was either going to ignore him or tear him to shreds. And for the next two weeks I'm still a minister at Christ's Church and I don't want to do anything that would reflect poorly on the church. But if this were a few weeks from now, I might indeed have warmed the back of my shovel with his nose.
I don't have the energy to deal with this subject in this posting, but racism is one of the biggest problems the church faces. And, this is the worst part, it's taking place from within. Some of the most racist people I've met are regular church goers. It makes me want to puke. Like I said, gimme a couple weeks and I'm not going to have to take it anymore.
Until our churches repent and do their best to rid the racism within, how can we ever expect to experience the blessing of God?
Beit Carr Expansion
I apologize if I haven't been able to contact you personally, but I just need to get the news out here:
We're expecting . . .
. . . a baby, not a puppy.
We found out a few weeks ago, but wanted to wait until we had been to the doctor to confirm it. Once we were certain, we started to let the news out. Friday night we went to Lexington to make the rounds and Saturday morning we woke up bright and early [6:00am] to return to Cincy to tell my parents. We even swung out to Bright, Indiana to tell my brothers in person, but neither of them were home; at least their wives were [sorry sis, but I just couldn't get to Indianapolis]. Since then, it's been a whirlwind, dropping the news left and right to anyone who will listen.
The baby should arrive in early April. So if you're tracking at home that's new church, new home, new baby. Yeah, I guess you could call us crazy to be leaving a family friendly community/church to move to the city, but we don't care. We decided we wanted kids before we even decided to plant the church. While beginning the plans to start the church, we discussed whether or not to put off having a baby. We decided that we still should trust God to provide and proceed as planned. Sure, the timing could be better, but when is it ever perfect? Like I said, we'll bank on God and see how it turns out.
Kelly is doing well. She hasn't had morning sickness, but gets sudden, insatiable urges to eat. Mark Mueller, an elder here at Christ's Church, said his wife Heidi was the same way. He used to keep food around in his pockets for emergency food need. I might have to do the same. Kelly's the champ. I'll do my best to be "the good husband" in the weeks to come.
Blogging note: I guess I should state that, since it'll be something like ten weeks before we'll know if it's a boy or girl, I'm not sure what to call it. Until then, I'll be using "the baby" as the specific noun and "it" as the pronoun. I find this better than using Kelly's current terminology [Peanut] and WAY better than mine [Viking]. This is not meant to imply that I don't believe that this baby is a human being [work through that double negative], because we do. But it takes to long to type he/she. So be patient with me till we figure it out.
I have about seven months to wax on about this, so I'll try not ramble on right now. We're just ecstatic. So I'll leave you with our baby's first picture [unfortunately, I think it looks like me]:
Ain't it cute?
We're expecting . . .
. . . a baby, not a puppy.
We found out a few weeks ago, but wanted to wait until we had been to the doctor to confirm it. Once we were certain, we started to let the news out. Friday night we went to Lexington to make the rounds and Saturday morning we woke up bright and early [6:00am] to return to Cincy to tell my parents. We even swung out to Bright, Indiana to tell my brothers in person, but neither of them were home; at least their wives were [sorry sis, but I just couldn't get to Indianapolis]. Since then, it's been a whirlwind, dropping the news left and right to anyone who will listen.
The baby should arrive in early April. So if you're tracking at home that's new church, new home, new baby. Yeah, I guess you could call us crazy to be leaving a family friendly community/church to move to the city, but we don't care. We decided we wanted kids before we even decided to plant the church. While beginning the plans to start the church, we discussed whether or not to put off having a baby. We decided that we still should trust God to provide and proceed as planned. Sure, the timing could be better, but when is it ever perfect? Like I said, we'll bank on God and see how it turns out.
Kelly is doing well. She hasn't had morning sickness, but gets sudden, insatiable urges to eat. Mark Mueller, an elder here at Christ's Church, said his wife Heidi was the same way. He used to keep food around in his pockets for emergency food need. I might have to do the same. Kelly's the champ. I'll do my best to be "the good husband" in the weeks to come.
Blogging note: I guess I should state that, since it'll be something like ten weeks before we'll know if it's a boy or girl, I'm not sure what to call it. Until then, I'll be using "the baby" as the specific noun and "it" as the pronoun. I find this better than using Kelly's current terminology [Peanut] and WAY better than mine [Viking]. This is not meant to imply that I don't believe that this baby is a human being [work through that double negative], because we do. But it takes to long to type he/she. So be patient with me till we figure it out.
I have about seven months to wax on about this, so I'll try not ramble on right now. We're just ecstatic. So I'll leave you with our baby's first picture [unfortunately, I think it looks like me]:
Ain't it cute?
"Come on, ride the train . . . "
I always found it fascinating that you could tell how old a tree is by counting the number of rings on it [by the way, apparently the study of tree rings is called dendrochronology]. Of course, in order to accomplish this, you have to cut the tree wide open and kill it. But at least you can do something to figure out it's age.
I always thought it a tad disappointing that you can't do the same with human beings. No, not cut them open with a chainsaw, but instantly tell how old they are. Just last year I went to a rated-R movie [Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, for you Focus on the Family types] and the girl behind the ticket counter asked to see my ID. "Are you serious?" I asked. She didn't say a word. Later I told Kelly that I couldn't believe she thought I was only seventeen. "Actually Steve,"she said, "if you were seventeen you could've gone in. That girl must have thought you looked sixteen." Brilliant. I'm closer to forty than to sixteen.
But I think I might have found a viable litmus test to figure out someone's age: take them to an amusement park and see how they react. Yesterday afternoon, Kelly and I took-off work a little early to use some free passes to Paramount's Kings Island [why isn't "Kings" spelled with an apostrophe?"]. What I discovered during our four hours there shocked me to the core. It was my tree ring moment, and even worse than the movie incident:
I think I'm old.
We decided that we were going to take it easy at first and walk around. We first rode the log floom or, how you might know it, "The Wild Thornberry's River Adventure." That cooled us down a bit. Then we worked are way past the Beast [yes, I understand that's blasphemy to you hardcore roller-coaster people, but work with me here], and ended-up in what used to be the old Coney Island area of the park. As we walked past the Zephyr, that ride with swings that goes round and round, Kelly suggested we go. I didn't worry about looking un-manly for riding this, but rather went along happily to enjoy the experience.
Well, that's when it happened. As the ride stopped I stood up and felt sick [spoiler alert: no chunks will be blown in this post]. I wasn't so much "throw-up"sick, but my head was spinning and I felt dizzy. Yep, after that I was done for the day. Fortunately, so was Kelly, so I didn't have to wuss out all by myself. We spent the rest of the time watching rides and doing all the "old people" activities like going to the top of the Eiffel Tower and riding the train. Honestly we had a wonderful time, but this has got to be a turning point in life.
Just a few years ago Kelly and I took a vacation to Cedar Point and spent three days riding rides. No problems at all. But then on our last trip to PKI [that's what everyone in Mason calls it] I got a little queasy after a full morning and afternoon of riding. And then there was yesterday. I looked around at all these parents taking their kids on rides and wonder if I'd be able to do it someday. I wonder how many of them fake enjoying the ride to give their kids the experience. Makes me respect them even more.
So even though I look sixteen, my amusement part rings show that I'm fifty-two. Maybe I should be looking forward to retirement.
I always thought it a tad disappointing that you can't do the same with human beings. No, not cut them open with a chainsaw, but instantly tell how old they are. Just last year I went to a rated-R movie [Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, for you Focus on the Family types] and the girl behind the ticket counter asked to see my ID. "Are you serious?" I asked. She didn't say a word. Later I told Kelly that I couldn't believe she thought I was only seventeen. "Actually Steve,"she said, "if you were seventeen you could've gone in. That girl must have thought you looked sixteen." Brilliant. I'm closer to forty than to sixteen.
But I think I might have found a viable litmus test to figure out someone's age: take them to an amusement park and see how they react. Yesterday afternoon, Kelly and I took-off work a little early to use some free passes to Paramount's Kings Island [why isn't "Kings" spelled with an apostrophe?"]. What I discovered during our four hours there shocked me to the core. It was my tree ring moment, and even worse than the movie incident:
I think I'm old.
We decided that we were going to take it easy at first and walk around. We first rode the log floom or, how you might know it, "The Wild Thornberry's River Adventure." That cooled us down a bit. Then we worked are way past the Beast [yes, I understand that's blasphemy to you hardcore roller-coaster people, but work with me here], and ended-up in what used to be the old Coney Island area of the park. As we walked past the Zephyr, that ride with swings that goes round and round, Kelly suggested we go. I didn't worry about looking un-manly for riding this, but rather went along happily to enjoy the experience.
Well, that's when it happened. As the ride stopped I stood up and felt sick [spoiler alert: no chunks will be blown in this post]. I wasn't so much "throw-up"sick, but my head was spinning and I felt dizzy. Yep, after that I was done for the day. Fortunately, so was Kelly, so I didn't have to wuss out all by myself. We spent the rest of the time watching rides and doing all the "old people" activities like going to the top of the Eiffel Tower and riding the train. Honestly we had a wonderful time, but this has got to be a turning point in life.
Just a few years ago Kelly and I took a vacation to Cedar Point and spent three days riding rides. No problems at all. But then on our last trip to PKI [that's what everyone in Mason calls it] I got a little queasy after a full morning and afternoon of riding. And then there was yesterday. I looked around at all these parents taking their kids on rides and wonder if I'd be able to do it someday. I wonder how many of them fake enjoying the ride to give their kids the experience. Makes me respect them even more.
So even though I look sixteen, my amusement part rings show that I'm fifty-two. Maybe I should be looking forward to retirement.
These [NIKE ACG's] Were Made For Walking
OK, before I start taking hits for this posting title, I want to remind you that Jessica Simpson merely covered the "Boots song" song for the Dukes of Hazard soundtrack. It was originally recorded by Frank Sinatra's daughter Nancy. So there, take that Simpson Family [note: this doesn't include you Nick, because you're a hometown guy].
Into day two of the car under repair. Yesterday I was able to get in contact with the company with whom I have the warranty. They were very nice over the phone, but will be sending a representative over this morning to inspect the engine. The engine is no longer in my Explorer; James from Kings Ford called yesterday and asked permission to remove it from the car. "Go ahead. Why not?" I answered. It's not like it'll ever work again. So as long as the warranty company takes responsibility, it's no big deal. We see if I have to play hard ball with them.
The past couple of mornings I've had Kelly drop me off at the UDF up the street so I can get my obligatory morning Diet Coke. I then walk the half mile or so down Mason Montgomery to the church. I'm really enjoying the walk. It's been rather comfortable climate-wise [no rain] and the sidewalks are in great shape. I just put in my earbuds, enjoy tunes from Coldplay and Mat Kearney, and watch the sun rise. I swear, the whole walking thing makes me feel urban. And I like it. I'd love to get a job working in Mount Adams when we move down there so I could walk to work in the mornings. Of course, I guess if I had to do this in the middle of January, I might be singing a different tune.
I always found walking somewhat boring and an inconvenience. I also thought it was the way you stayed in shape when you were too old to do strenuous exercise anymore. But when we moved to Landen, we had access to the beautiful trail around the lake and began to take walks. Either I've matured in the way I view walking, or I really am a wuss.
It's interesting that, after two days, I have yet to pass by someone on the sidewalks. This pedestrian pavement only periodically perceives people and predominantly those who plod along at a prompt pace [or you could say "only joggers use the sidewalks every once in awhile"]. I wonder why more people don't walk to work around here. I don't think it's for a lack of businesses; there are office parks all over the place. I guess it's just the nature of suburban sprawl: we don't live near where we work. That's too bad because there are so many advantages to it. I've used at least half of the gasoline I usually use when I'm driving during my walks. I'm such a conservationist.
Walking is another reason why I think I'll love urban dwelling. Walking gives you time to yourself. Walking slows your life down. Walking makes you think. All scary things, but maybe if we all did it a little more we'd be happier, less stressful and live a little longer.
Into day two of the car under repair. Yesterday I was able to get in contact with the company with whom I have the warranty. They were very nice over the phone, but will be sending a representative over this morning to inspect the engine. The engine is no longer in my Explorer; James from Kings Ford called yesterday and asked permission to remove it from the car. "Go ahead. Why not?" I answered. It's not like it'll ever work again. So as long as the warranty company takes responsibility, it's no big deal. We see if I have to play hard ball with them.
The past couple of mornings I've had Kelly drop me off at the UDF up the street so I can get my obligatory morning Diet Coke. I then walk the half mile or so down Mason Montgomery to the church. I'm really enjoying the walk. It's been rather comfortable climate-wise [no rain] and the sidewalks are in great shape. I just put in my earbuds, enjoy tunes from Coldplay and Mat Kearney, and watch the sun rise. I swear, the whole walking thing makes me feel urban. And I like it. I'd love to get a job working in Mount Adams when we move down there so I could walk to work in the mornings. Of course, I guess if I had to do this in the middle of January, I might be singing a different tune.
I always found walking somewhat boring and an inconvenience. I also thought it was the way you stayed in shape when you were too old to do strenuous exercise anymore. But when we moved to Landen, we had access to the beautiful trail around the lake and began to take walks. Either I've matured in the way I view walking, or I really am a wuss.
It's interesting that, after two days, I have yet to pass by someone on the sidewalks. This pedestrian pavement only periodically perceives people and predominantly those who plod along at a prompt pace [or you could say "only joggers use the sidewalks every once in awhile"]. I wonder why more people don't walk to work around here. I don't think it's for a lack of businesses; there are office parks all over the place. I guess it's just the nature of suburban sprawl: we don't live near where we work. That's too bad because there are so many advantages to it. I've used at least half of the gasoline I usually use when I'm driving during my walks. I'm such a conservationist.
Walking is another reason why I think I'll love urban dwelling. Walking gives you time to yourself. Walking slows your life down. Walking makes you think. All scary things, but maybe if we all did it a little more we'd be happier, less stressful and live a little longer.
Yikes!
There's so much I could write about today. So much, in fact, that I have designated this post as "Yikes." I had quite a few "yikes!" moments that I'd like to share with you. According to Merriam-Webster, "yikes" is "probably an alteration of 'yoicks'-- used to express fear or astonishment." Just thought you'd like to know.
Obviously, I'm still in a state of mourning after the ousting of Bob Huggins at UC. I was really planning on writing a lengthy criticism of President Nancy Zimpher [who really looked rattled at the news conference yesterday], but I'm going to hold back. It's not like Huggins ran an incredibly clean program; she had enough evidence to fire him with cause. I just hope she knows what she's doing because, unless she brings in a top-notch coach, she just cost herself a job. Good luck, lady. All I can say is, "Yikes"
I could also talk about the wonderful remarks by a Mr Pat Robertson concerning the President of Venezuela. Hugo Chavez is a tyrant of a ruler [which was quite visible when I was down in Venezuela last year], but you can't say things like this: "I don't know about this doctrine of assassination, but if he thinks we're trying to assassinate him, I think that we really ought to go ahead and do it." What a great example of spreading the love of Christ throughout the world: encourage the assassination of public officials. Yes, something should be done about him, but hearing a preacher encourage murder is a little icky. Yikes, sir.
But I had my own personal "yikes!" moment yesterday. As I was driving back to the Johnson house in the afternoon, just half a mile from their house, my Explorer felt like I ran over something. In an instant, the engine shut down [along with the power steering] and I had to maneuver my car off the major thoroughfare and into the parking lot of a business park. I popped the hood and could see that my engine belt was mangled around the center pulley of the engine; also, one of the pulleys was snapped. Fortunately, I have Micah Steele, car repair extraordinaire, on speed dial. He said to go up to the Car-X on the corner and see if they'll fix it. So I took a walk up the street and explained to the guy inside my problem. He was able to pull up a diagram of the engine and asked me to point out which pulley busted. Sure enough, it was the crankshaft. This would be a little more complicated than simply replacing the pulley: they could have to replace the whole engine.
I was actually handling it all pretty well considering this pretty sucky news. The Explorer's paid off. But fortunately, when I bought it, I went ahead and paid for the extra long warranty: the 10 year/100,000 mile kind. I have no idea why I did that [I never get the extra warranty on anything] but all this should be paid for. I'm sure I'll have to wrestle with Ford today to make sure they don't skimp out on the deal. So I'm not freaking out or anything, but I am in a some sort of stage of disbelief.
So all I can say is "yikes!" Yikes, indeed.
Obviously, I'm still in a state of mourning after the ousting of Bob Huggins at UC. I was really planning on writing a lengthy criticism of President Nancy Zimpher [who really looked rattled at the news conference yesterday], but I'm going to hold back. It's not like Huggins ran an incredibly clean program; she had enough evidence to fire him with cause. I just hope she knows what she's doing because, unless she brings in a top-notch coach, she just cost herself a job. Good luck, lady. All I can say is, "Yikes"
I could also talk about the wonderful remarks by a Mr Pat Robertson concerning the President of Venezuela. Hugo Chavez is a tyrant of a ruler [which was quite visible when I was down in Venezuela last year], but you can't say things like this: "I don't know about this doctrine of assassination, but if he thinks we're trying to assassinate him, I think that we really ought to go ahead and do it." What a great example of spreading the love of Christ throughout the world: encourage the assassination of public officials. Yes, something should be done about him, but hearing a preacher encourage murder is a little icky. Yikes, sir.
But I had my own personal "yikes!" moment yesterday. As I was driving back to the Johnson house in the afternoon, just half a mile from their house, my Explorer felt like I ran over something. In an instant, the engine shut down [along with the power steering] and I had to maneuver my car off the major thoroughfare and into the parking lot of a business park. I popped the hood and could see that my engine belt was mangled around the center pulley of the engine; also, one of the pulleys was snapped. Fortunately, I have Micah Steele, car repair extraordinaire, on speed dial. He said to go up to the Car-X on the corner and see if they'll fix it. So I took a walk up the street and explained to the guy inside my problem. He was able to pull up a diagram of the engine and asked me to point out which pulley busted. Sure enough, it was the crankshaft. This would be a little more complicated than simply replacing the pulley: they could have to replace the whole engine.
I was actually handling it all pretty well considering this pretty sucky news. The Explorer's paid off. But fortunately, when I bought it, I went ahead and paid for the extra long warranty: the 10 year/100,000 mile kind. I have no idea why I did that [I never get the extra warranty on anything] but all this should be paid for. I'm sure I'll have to wrestle with Ford today to make sure they don't skimp out on the deal. So I'm not freaking out or anything, but I am in a some sort of stage of disbelief.
So all I can say is "yikes!" Yikes, indeed.
Random Thoughts
Once again it's a Tuesday and I'm sitting in Panera, loving the Wi-Fi. I've been here since 7:30, enjoying my free time and the refillable beverages. I just realized that I really only have one more "Tuesday off" before I leave Christ's Church [because of Labor Day, I won't take a day off my last week]. I'm meeting Aaron for lunch in about an hour for lunch and there were a few random thoughts I wanted to share with you.
I'm addicted to reading other people's blogs. I've been able to fill a couple of hours reading blogs by religious/theological egg-heads. Really, y'all who read this should be thankful that I only get pensive every once in awhile. If I wrote some of the geeky stuff that some of these people write, you'd find other ways to occupy your time while searching the web.
Mozilla Firefox is cool. For some reason, Apple's Safari browser doesn't play well with Blogger. I downloaded Mozilla Firefox so I can blog without having to use html code. It's awesome because you can open multiple browsers in tabs at the top of the page. This way you can easily access numerous pages at the same time. I used to use it at church until we were banned because network administrators couldn't monitor it. There are a few rebels left at the church who have [against IT policy] Mozilla hidden on their computers. I refuse to rat them out [Minnie Clements!].
Diet Pepsi is horrible. How this beverage is still in existence bewilders me. That's the only bad thing about Panera: Pepsi products. Of course, if they had Diet Coke, I might never leave. Sure, I could drink Mountain Dew, but how healthy is that? I'm actually switching back in forth between tea and Diet Pepsi because it tastes so bad.
I pee alot when drinking caffeine. Sorry about the lewd nature of that statement, but it's the truth. I've had to use the bathroom three times this morning. Of course, with all the liquids I drank this morning [which I won't document for fear of being chastised by my wife] it makes perfect sense. Wait a minute, I'll be right back . . .
OK, that's better. Back to those thoughts:
Everything needs a charge. In anticipation of my day away from the house, I charged my cell phone, laptop and iPod. And I was afraid the rechargable batteries from the camera would die before I got Kelly's picture downloaded. If the power had gone out last night, I'd be screwed.
What are these people doing in the community room? I'm right next to that room at Panera that they let groups use. It's an ecclectic group of people of varying ages and sexes, all reading through some kind of notebook. It's not a book club and I can smell a Bible Study a mile away. I wonder if they're plotting out a world domination strategy. If so, I wouldn't mind joining their group.
That's all I have for now. I'll keep you posted.
I'm addicted to reading other people's blogs. I've been able to fill a couple of hours reading blogs by religious/theological egg-heads. Really, y'all who read this should be thankful that I only get pensive every once in awhile. If I wrote some of the geeky stuff that some of these people write, you'd find other ways to occupy your time while searching the web.
Mozilla Firefox is cool. For some reason, Apple's Safari browser doesn't play well with Blogger. I downloaded Mozilla Firefox so I can blog without having to use html code. It's awesome because you can open multiple browsers in tabs at the top of the page. This way you can easily access numerous pages at the same time. I used to use it at church until we were banned because network administrators couldn't monitor it. There are a few rebels left at the church who have [against IT policy] Mozilla hidden on their computers. I refuse to rat them out [Minnie Clements!].
Diet Pepsi is horrible. How this beverage is still in existence bewilders me. That's the only bad thing about Panera: Pepsi products. Of course, if they had Diet Coke, I might never leave. Sure, I could drink Mountain Dew, but how healthy is that? I'm actually switching back in forth between tea and Diet Pepsi because it tastes so bad.
I pee alot when drinking caffeine. Sorry about the lewd nature of that statement, but it's the truth. I've had to use the bathroom three times this morning. Of course, with all the liquids I drank this morning [which I won't document for fear of being chastised by my wife] it makes perfect sense. Wait a minute, I'll be right back . . .
OK, that's better. Back to those thoughts:
Everything needs a charge. In anticipation of my day away from the house, I charged my cell phone, laptop and iPod. And I was afraid the rechargable batteries from the camera would die before I got Kelly's picture downloaded. If the power had gone out last night, I'd be screwed.
What are these people doing in the community room? I'm right next to that room at Panera that they let groups use. It's an ecclectic group of people of varying ages and sexes, all reading through some kind of notebook. It's not a book club and I can smell a Bible Study a mile away. I wonder if they're plotting out a world domination strategy. If so, I wouldn't mind joining their group.
That's all I have for now. I'll keep you posted.
Worship Song Fridge Magnets
Kelly loves those fridge poetry magnets. When we finally get our own refridgerator again, I'll have to get her some of these.
School Daze
I woke up this morning for the first day of school.
For a week or so, the Johnson's have been telling us of their first day of school tradition when they take photos of their kids before heading of to school. Kelly and I found this fascinating, so we were up by 6:00 to witness the photo shoot. Kelsey was up, ready to start her junior year of high school and they now had the pictures to prove it. Melinda asked if we did stuff like this on the first day of school when I was growing up and I responded, "My mom was a teacher. It wasn't exactly the most joyful time in the house."
I'm not sure I would want to go back in time to remember my first days of school. The only "first day" I was ever excited about was my senior year of high school and that was because I'd never have to go through it again [I'm sorry but, in this instance, I don't think college counts]. In fact, I've never really liked school. This is interesting because I have a master's degree [which means I was in school a long time] and I absolutley love learning. But I hate school. Maybe it's because of all the useless stuff I was taught. Guess how much geology I've used in my adult life? If you answered "zero," you're being generous.
I've listened to the kids at church talk about what they do in school now and it's a joke. They take web design classes, everyone has a study hall, and they're always on some kind of early dismissal schedule. It's ridiculous. No wonder these kids love school so much: they do nothing and get credit for it.
So before I fall off this soapbox, I'll just let you know that the Johnson's inspired me and I took a picture of Kelly before she left on the first day of school this morning:
Yeah, I know, it wasn't her first day of school, but if I was going to a school and she was there, I probably wouldn't have hated it so much.
For a week or so, the Johnson's have been telling us of their first day of school tradition when they take photos of their kids before heading of to school. Kelly and I found this fascinating, so we were up by 6:00 to witness the photo shoot. Kelsey was up, ready to start her junior year of high school and they now had the pictures to prove it. Melinda asked if we did stuff like this on the first day of school when I was growing up and I responded, "My mom was a teacher. It wasn't exactly the most joyful time in the house."
I'm not sure I would want to go back in time to remember my first days of school. The only "first day" I was ever excited about was my senior year of high school and that was because I'd never have to go through it again [I'm sorry but, in this instance, I don't think college counts]. In fact, I've never really liked school. This is interesting because I have a master's degree [which means I was in school a long time] and I absolutley love learning. But I hate school. Maybe it's because of all the useless stuff I was taught. Guess how much geology I've used in my adult life? If you answered "zero," you're being generous.
I've listened to the kids at church talk about what they do in school now and it's a joke. They take web design classes, everyone has a study hall, and they're always on some kind of early dismissal schedule. It's ridiculous. No wonder these kids love school so much: they do nothing and get credit for it.
So before I fall off this soapbox, I'll just let you know that the Johnson's inspired me and I took a picture of Kelly before she left on the first day of school this morning:
Yeah, I know, it wasn't her first day of school, but if I was going to a school and she was there, I probably wouldn't have hated it so much.
Open the doors . . .
Yesterday Kelly and I had the opportunity to meet with the folks at the Walnut Hills Christian Church. The congregation was voting on the proposal by Echo Church to rent out their building on Sunday evenings as a meeting space. We were able to get down there to the church just after their service had started. I was excited for Kelly because this was her first opportunity to view the inside of the building; she later agreed that it was indeed a blessing to have found this place. We made our way to a pew in the middle of the sanctuary and joined them in their time of worship.I'll admit, it was a sparse crowd. There were twenty-four people there, including us. The people of the Walnut Hills Church would admit that they've been struggling as of late to find out exactly what God has called them to do. At such a discouraging time in their history, having a new church ask to move in and use their building could sound rather intimidating. But they embraced us with open arms. Literally. After the service, it seemed everywhere we turned we were getting hugged.
After the service we were invited to have lunch with church members in their fellowship hall; every week they have a meal after their service in case somebody of the street comes in and needs food. It wasn't something that we had planned on, but it was a good time. We sat at a table with people who have been at the church between twenty and fifty years. One of them said that even though their numbers aren't what they used to be, the spirit in the church is much better. It was enlightening to hear their perspective on how things were going.
So when it came time for the vote, they asked me to say a few words and answer some questions. I just laid it all out there: that we have no idea what we're doing, but we know that God was calling us to do something in that neighborhood. There were a few softball-like questions that followed ["Now what denomination are you?"] and that was it. When it came time for the vote, Kelly and I stepped out into the sanctuary and sat in the pews.
We sorta looked around at the empty room. I asked her, "Can you see it?" and she nodded. I guess if I were really marketing the Echo Church concept, I would've asked, "Can you hear it?" but I missed out on that one. After only a couple of minutes the chairman of the board came out and told us it was a unanimous vote: they're giving us [at least] a year to have our services there. It was an unforgettable experience. Once again, God moved and we were right there watching.
So with this out of the way, we can proceed with our first core meeting for Echo Church. If you're interested [or know of people who might be] in joining us on the ground floor of our new church, let them know. It's going to take place next Wednesday night [August 31st] at 7pm at the Walnut Hills Christian Church on 1438 East McMillan Street in East Walnut Hills.
Yep, that's where we'll be meeting.
You Can Go Home Again
We got a phone call yesterday morning from Shane; always a little bit of fear involved when you get a call from the guy who just bought your house. Fortunately, it was a good call; they had received some of our insurance mail [which is bizarre because State Farm has our change of address and has already forwarded mail to my parent's house] and he asked if we wanted to pick it up and stop by the house. So let me get this straight: we get a chance to see what you've done to the house since we left? You couldn't keep us away.
He left our mail in the mailbox, so we didn't have to come in. But as we pulled up front I looked at the grass by the garage. See, the day before we moved out, the POD people came to pick up our stuff. I received a call from the guy saying he had a slight leak with the hydraulic line on the machine that moves the POD. "No big deal," he says. "There's a little on the grass and some on the driveway. It'll wash out with the next rain." OK. I'm cool, until I see that the area in the grass was actually a five yard circle. At the house closing, I told Shane what the guy said and he was absolutely fine with it. Yesterday evening, when we pulled up, the circle was still there but all the grass was totally dead. I knew we had to go in. I was very apologetic about it, but shame said it was no big deal. Tomorrow I'm going to call the POD place to complain, so we'll see if that gets me anywhere.
So when we walked in you could see that they had cool taste. The place was awesome. All their furniture looks sharp and it fits well in the house. They've already painted the blue basement with a tan like color and it looks incredible. We enjoyed the blue basement, but they've made it look even better. That's the only painting they've done so far [yes, my red room still survives but its days are short]. They have a huge freakin' big screen in the den with surround sound hooked up to it. The place is like a movie theater. Ananda [hope I spelled that right] is Shane and Amy's beautiful little four year old girl and she's in what-used-to-be-Kelly's lime green room; we had painted it before we put it up for sale. It was a good time. We also had the chance to talk to them about neighbors, other people in the neighborhood, and the nuances of Landen living. It was a unexpected visit but it was awesome.
I was thinking, once again, how blessed we were to have such a great house selling experience. The house sold quickly and to a couple of wonderful, understanding people who love the house as much as we did. Yeah, it's tough to move on, but it's nice when God makes it this easy.
He left our mail in the mailbox, so we didn't have to come in. But as we pulled up front I looked at the grass by the garage. See, the day before we moved out, the POD people came to pick up our stuff. I received a call from the guy saying he had a slight leak with the hydraulic line on the machine that moves the POD. "No big deal," he says. "There's a little on the grass and some on the driveway. It'll wash out with the next rain." OK. I'm cool, until I see that the area in the grass was actually a five yard circle. At the house closing, I told Shane what the guy said and he was absolutely fine with it. Yesterday evening, when we pulled up, the circle was still there but all the grass was totally dead. I knew we had to go in. I was very apologetic about it, but shame said it was no big deal. Tomorrow I'm going to call the POD place to complain, so we'll see if that gets me anywhere.
So when we walked in you could see that they had cool taste. The place was awesome. All their furniture looks sharp and it fits well in the house. They've already painted the blue basement with a tan like color and it looks incredible. We enjoyed the blue basement, but they've made it look even better. That's the only painting they've done so far [yes, my red room still survives but its days are short]. They have a huge freakin' big screen in the den with surround sound hooked up to it. The place is like a movie theater. Ananda [hope I spelled that right] is Shane and Amy's beautiful little four year old girl and she's in what-used-to-be-Kelly's lime green room; we had painted it before we put it up for sale. It was a good time. We also had the chance to talk to them about neighbors, other people in the neighborhood, and the nuances of Landen living. It was a unexpected visit but it was awesome.
I was thinking, once again, how blessed we were to have such a great house selling experience. The house sold quickly and to a couple of wonderful, understanding people who love the house as much as we did. Yeah, it's tough to move on, but it's nice when God makes it this easy.
O Me of Little Faith
I'll admit: I was doubting this morning.
We only have a little more than three weeks left here at Christ's Church. Then I'll have to be making money at some other jobs. I've filled out some applications and have a possible lead for a supply preaching gig but, as of this morning, I have nothing. I know I still have some time left to nail something down but in situations like this, I like to know ahead what I'll be doing. That's what happens when I have too much time to think.
With this on my mind, I walked out of the Johnson's house this morning. And I just happened to look up [which, unfortunately, I hardly ever do] and saw this:
We only have a little more than three weeks left here at Christ's Church. Then I'll have to be making money at some other jobs. I've filled out some applications and have a possible lead for a supply preaching gig but, as of this morning, I have nothing. I know I still have some time left to nail something down but in situations like this, I like to know ahead what I'll be doing. That's what happens when I have too much time to think.
With this on my mind, I walked out of the Johnson's house this morning. And I just happened to look up [which, unfortunately, I hardly ever do] and saw this:
Pretty cool.
Now usually when I see rainbows I think of finding the leprechaun at the other end, an 80's doll that lit up, or chewy candy that produces colorful spit. But this morning I actually thought of the spiritual application and the reason God gave us rainbows in the first place.
"And God said, 'This is the sign of the covenant I am making between me and you and every living creature with you, a covenant for all generations to come: I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth. Whenever I bring clouds over the earth and the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will remember my covenant between me and you and all living creatures of every kind. Never again will the waters become a flood to destroy all life.'"
Genesis 9:12-15
No, I'm not worried about being flooded, but this still gave me some relief. The rainbow is a sign of God's grace, His caring about what happens in the world. And my current job concerns, albeit small in light of all the great problems in this world, are still important to God. It's funny that even though He has continually taken care of things throughout this entire process, I still need a reminder not to doubt.
Thanks God, it worked.
"Yes, that's the book for me . . ."
OK, I'm gonna get all theological on y'all. This is just my pre-post announcement to say that there's no cute story in today's post. I'm going double-barreled this morning.
I love the Bible, but I hate what people do to it. My buddy Tim came by yesterday. He's going to be teaching my Bible Fellowship classes on Sunday and wants to do a lesson on Bible translations. We talked for almost two hours about it and, by the time we were finished, I think he realized that covering the subject in just forty-five minutes would be almost impossible. There are so many issues when it comes to Scripture it makes your head spin. I don't want to bore you here; I just want to give you some thoughts to make you think about the Bible. Here are a few random thoughts on the topic:
It's All Greek To Me
A perfect God had chose a medium by which to communicate His message to the world. And in a fascinating move, He picked language and the written word. I find it fascinating because language is a very imperfect form of communication. Just think of how many people you come across everyday who speak the same language as you and you still can't understand them. Or do this: define the word "bat" or "right." Homonyms make language even more confusing, don't they? Also, language never stays the same but evolves over years. For example, the word "hip" is not necessarily a part of your body.
This is why I'm amazed when I hear people say that one English translation is the best or that God has endorsed a selected translation. No Bible that we hold in our hands will ever be devoid of someone's interpretation. Scholars who translate the original Greek and Hebrew words into a language all have certain biases that prohibit them from being 100% objective. Plus as every year passes, discoveries in the fields of archaeology and linguistics tell us more about Biblical culture, allowing us to better understand the original languages.
Let's be honest: the biggest case of this kind of "Bible worship" surrounds the King James Version. In 1611, when the King James Version was translated, they did the best they could with what they had. The KJV was a good start but, at the same time, it's not the apex of Bible translation either. By the way, the last people who felt that strongly about a translation of the Bible weren't exactly the friendliest of sorts. The protectors of the Latin Vulgate used to burn people trying to translate the Bible into English.
Now, with all that we know, we can do much better with Bible translation. That being said, just because the knowledge is there doesn't mean we always get it right. The new TNIV ridiculously messes with pronouns in it's translation trying to be more PC. That's just dumb. And in defense of the KJV, though, I must say that I'm impressed with how they translated literally 1 Samuel 25:22,34. Did you know that "pisseth" is in the Bible? Nothing like Biblical potty humor. Good show. Still, I think the best translations are still out there to be completed.
I guess I'm trying to say that part of our faith is believing that God has preserved His Word throughout the ages so that we can access it today. We still have the texts in their original languages with remarkable accuracy. If you're really serious about the subject and have never studied Hebrew or Greek, you should. There's a whole new world out there for those who wish to explore it.
Commandment 4 of 10
No, not the one about keeping Sabbath. If you take the Ten Commandments [Exodus 20] as Jews split them up [which makes "I am the Lord Your God" commandment number one (a division that I think we Christians should adopt because that first statement makes all the others important)], the fourth one is this:
"You shall not take the name of the Lord Your God in vain."
We usually interpret this as only referring to cussing with God's name, but that's a limited view. I believe this commandment is also a decree not to manipulate the Word of God, i.e., making the Bible say what you want it to say. I hear people all the time saying something absurd followed by the phrase, "and that's what it says in the Bible." If you ever say that phrase, you better be darn-tootin' sure that it really is in the Bible. Otherwise, you're a blasphemer. Be careful, little mouths, what you say.
God Revealed
I ask you, "What's the most important revelation God left us to help discover who He is?" You, prepared to give your average Sunday School answer, reply with, "The Bible." I would then tell you, "you're wrong."
Before Gutenberg's printing press, there was only one Bible per town. Even if people had Bibles to read, they wouldn't know how. We forget that the world has only experienced wide-spread literacy during the past two-hundred years. It's because of this that some in the Roman Catholic Church were able to manipulate people in the Dark Ages, teaching a voodoo type faith. The people depended upon the educated clergy to tell them the story in Scripture and many of them took advantage of the people. The Bible accessible to the masses is only a few hundred [or less] years old.
I would say that the most important revelation God left us to figure out who He is would be the world itself. God has spoken, for all to hear, though general revelation. The apostle Paul proclaims this at the beginning of his letter to the church in Rome. He writes that you can't look at the world and not know that there's a God [pardon my double negative]. So while the Bible is important to our lives, somehow people made it thousands of years without having their own copy. And despite all the abuses, Christianity survived. His Word is definitely powerful, but don't limit his Word to what can be printed.
All the Answers?
And you might not want to accept this, but the Bible doesn't have all the answers for your life. It just doesn't. Through examining Scripture you get a vivid picture of what God wants from you, but you still have to take the next step and exercise your judgment. It's called free will. There's a world of gray out there and God wants you to figure out how you're going to live in it. Great example in Acts 15 as the leaders of the church in Jerusalem are trying to figure out how to mesh Jew and Gentile Christians. In verse 28, in a reply to Gentile believers in the north, the leaders write, "It seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us . . ." Why did they write "to us?" Wouldn't God's Word have been enough? I think they're acknowledging here that they needed to make the decision while seeking God's guidance.
What I'm saying is that the Bible won't make all our decisions for us. It's a wonderful guide for what God wants, but we have to figure out how to live that out. And finally . . .
DON'T MISINTERPRET ME [like people do the Bible]
I might have written some things here you find heretical, but understand what I'm really saying. I love Scripture. It's the most powerful book every written, inspired by God Himself. When we start this new church, our focus will be teaching out of the Bible. We want people to be familiar with it and see what a difference the Word of God can make in their lives. I'm just tired of people using the Bible in ungodly ways. I'm not saying I have it all figured out, but I'm not sure any of else really do.
You don't mess around with the Bible. It's not a toy, it's a weapon used to cut people up. In the wrong hands, you can really do some damage. So stop playing with it. Get serious, get dirty, and learn what God is saying through this beautiful book.
I love the Bible, but I hate what people do to it. My buddy Tim came by yesterday. He's going to be teaching my Bible Fellowship classes on Sunday and wants to do a lesson on Bible translations. We talked for almost two hours about it and, by the time we were finished, I think he realized that covering the subject in just forty-five minutes would be almost impossible. There are so many issues when it comes to Scripture it makes your head spin. I don't want to bore you here; I just want to give you some thoughts to make you think about the Bible. Here are a few random thoughts on the topic:
It's All Greek To Me
A perfect God had chose a medium by which to communicate His message to the world. And in a fascinating move, He picked language and the written word. I find it fascinating because language is a very imperfect form of communication. Just think of how many people you come across everyday who speak the same language as you and you still can't understand them. Or do this: define the word "bat" or "right." Homonyms make language even more confusing, don't they? Also, language never stays the same but evolves over years. For example, the word "hip" is not necessarily a part of your body.
This is why I'm amazed when I hear people say that one English translation is the best or that God has endorsed a selected translation. No Bible that we hold in our hands will ever be devoid of someone's interpretation. Scholars who translate the original Greek and Hebrew words into a language all have certain biases that prohibit them from being 100% objective. Plus as every year passes, discoveries in the fields of archaeology and linguistics tell us more about Biblical culture, allowing us to better understand the original languages.
Let's be honest: the biggest case of this kind of "Bible worship" surrounds the King James Version. In 1611, when the King James Version was translated, they did the best they could with what they had. The KJV was a good start but, at the same time, it's not the apex of Bible translation either. By the way, the last people who felt that strongly about a translation of the Bible weren't exactly the friendliest of sorts. The protectors of the Latin Vulgate used to burn people trying to translate the Bible into English.
Now, with all that we know, we can do much better with Bible translation. That being said, just because the knowledge is there doesn't mean we always get it right. The new TNIV ridiculously messes with pronouns in it's translation trying to be more PC. That's just dumb. And in defense of the KJV, though, I must say that I'm impressed with how they translated literally 1 Samuel 25:22,34. Did you know that "pisseth" is in the Bible? Nothing like Biblical potty humor. Good show. Still, I think the best translations are still out there to be completed.
I guess I'm trying to say that part of our faith is believing that God has preserved His Word throughout the ages so that we can access it today. We still have the texts in their original languages with remarkable accuracy. If you're really serious about the subject and have never studied Hebrew or Greek, you should. There's a whole new world out there for those who wish to explore it.
Commandment 4 of 10
No, not the one about keeping Sabbath. If you take the Ten Commandments [Exodus 20] as Jews split them up [which makes "I am the Lord Your God" commandment number one (a division that I think we Christians should adopt because that first statement makes all the others important)], the fourth one is this:
"You shall not take the name of the Lord Your God in vain."
We usually interpret this as only referring to cussing with God's name, but that's a limited view. I believe this commandment is also a decree not to manipulate the Word of God, i.e., making the Bible say what you want it to say. I hear people all the time saying something absurd followed by the phrase, "and that's what it says in the Bible." If you ever say that phrase, you better be darn-tootin' sure that it really is in the Bible. Otherwise, you're a blasphemer. Be careful, little mouths, what you say.
God Revealed
I ask you, "What's the most important revelation God left us to help discover who He is?" You, prepared to give your average Sunday School answer, reply with, "The Bible." I would then tell you, "you're wrong."
Before Gutenberg's printing press, there was only one Bible per town. Even if people had Bibles to read, they wouldn't know how. We forget that the world has only experienced wide-spread literacy during the past two-hundred years. It's because of this that some in the Roman Catholic Church were able to manipulate people in the Dark Ages, teaching a voodoo type faith. The people depended upon the educated clergy to tell them the story in Scripture and many of them took advantage of the people. The Bible accessible to the masses is only a few hundred [or less] years old.
I would say that the most important revelation God left us to figure out who He is would be the world itself. God has spoken, for all to hear, though general revelation. The apostle Paul proclaims this at the beginning of his letter to the church in Rome. He writes that you can't look at the world and not know that there's a God [pardon my double negative]. So while the Bible is important to our lives, somehow people made it thousands of years without having their own copy. And despite all the abuses, Christianity survived. His Word is definitely powerful, but don't limit his Word to what can be printed.
All the Answers?
And you might not want to accept this, but the Bible doesn't have all the answers for your life. It just doesn't. Through examining Scripture you get a vivid picture of what God wants from you, but you still have to take the next step and exercise your judgment. It's called free will. There's a world of gray out there and God wants you to figure out how you're going to live in it. Great example in Acts 15 as the leaders of the church in Jerusalem are trying to figure out how to mesh Jew and Gentile Christians. In verse 28, in a reply to Gentile believers in the north, the leaders write, "It seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us . . ." Why did they write "to us?" Wouldn't God's Word have been enough? I think they're acknowledging here that they needed to make the decision while seeking God's guidance.
What I'm saying is that the Bible won't make all our decisions for us. It's a wonderful guide for what God wants, but we have to figure out how to live that out. And finally . . .
DON'T MISINTERPRET ME [like people do the Bible]
I might have written some things here you find heretical, but understand what I'm really saying. I love Scripture. It's the most powerful book every written, inspired by God Himself. When we start this new church, our focus will be teaching out of the Bible. We want people to be familiar with it and see what a difference the Word of God can make in their lives. I'm just tired of people using the Bible in ungodly ways. I'm not saying I have it all figured out, but I'm not sure any of else really do.
You don't mess around with the Bible. It's not a toy, it's a weapon used to cut people up. In the wrong hands, you can really do some damage. So stop playing with it. Get serious, get dirty, and learn what God is saying through this beautiful book.
"You clean the outside of the cup . . ."
If you're attentive enough every day can be a learning experience. Yesterday I was paying attention and I learned something that will forever change my life. Well, maybe it won't change my life, but it will keep me from getting sticky. And I hate sticky.Yesterday afternoon I decided to do some laundry. Yes friends, I do some household chores, I'm just selective about what I do. Laundry is the best chore in household cleaning; nothing else can compare to it. Laundry appears to be a laborious task while it's actually a piece of cake. Sure it takes a little work to lug the laundry to the machine but all you do is drop in the clothes with the detergent, press a few buttons and walk away for forty-five minutes. And to finish the job you drop everything in another machine for an hour. Then when someone asks what you're doing, you tell them you're hard at work doing the laundry while you're really watching Dharma and Greg re-runs, flipping through a People Magazine. Two hours later, you get clean clothes and a sense of accomplishment while you wipe the Doritos crumbs from the corner of your mouth. It's hard work being this pretty.
So anyway, as I ascended the stairs to do the laundry, I was totally unaware of the knowledge that was about to come my way. Melinda was showing me where the machine was [I had yet to do laundry at the Johnson's] and I started chucking stuff in there. As the machine began to fill with water I did my "pre-wash-clean-the-soap-cup-out" routine. Do you know what I'm talking about? I hate, after you use the detergent, the collection of gooey soap that accumulates at the bottom of the cup. So you try rinsing it out, but that stuff is caked at the bottom so you have to use your hands to dig it off. But if you do that, your hands smell like Tide the rest of the day. So you think about ignoring the problem, but it's worse if you wait. Then the next time you do the laundry you find the cup all sticky [did I mention that I hate sticky] and collecting fuzz and junk in it so that you're grossed out. It's a lose/lose.
Melinda sees me attempting to solve the great cup problem and offers her simple solution:
Why don't you just throw the whole cup in the machine? It won't hurt anything.
Absolute brilliance. I'll never forget where I was when this happened. And I'll never look at laundry the same way again.
So that's what I did. I just threw the cup in the laundry and, as you can see from the picture above, the cup was spotless. Such a small piece of information seems trivial, but I'll remember it the rest of my life. That got me thinking about little life lessons like that. Isn't it sad that you go throughout life not knowing all these tidbits of info that can make living more enjoyable? Perhaps we should start a forum where we can share this learned information. Allow me to offer two simple ones here. I learned both of these in college but constantly tell people about them for the very first time:
1) You might despise those little square napkins they give you at restaurants for your beverage. Inevitably, the napkin gets stuck to the cup, it becomes a soaked mess and you forget trying to use the fake coaster. Instead, when they first bring out your drink, shake some salt on the napkin. This forms a protective layer and your cup won't stick to the paper. Problem solved.
2) In a related tip, say when your food comes out, you want ketchup for your fries. You pound the bottom of the bottle like it's a disobedient child and still nothing comes out. I remember my dad would solve this problem by using a knife to guide the ketchup out. That just seemed plain wrong. Here's the proper way: on normal Heinz bottles, there's a raised "57" where the neck of the bottle begins. If you aim the bottle where you want ketchup, then firmly strike the 57, your tomato paste will come out with ease. It's just that easy. Try it out.
OK, so maybe you've been enlightened by reading this but now it's your opportunity to share with the masses your knowledge. Do tell. Anything that can keep me from getting sticky will be appreciated greatly.
It's All About People
Since I'm half homeless, I'm using the afternoon of my day off hanging out in Panera. I can sit here, surf the web and get continual refills on my beverages. And no employee hassels me for staying here. That's why I love this place and wouldn't mind working for a Panera: they care about people.This blog post by Seth Godin tells how paying even a little attention to what people want/need can pay off in huge dividends.
Get A Job
I have a Master's degree.
I'm not really bragging or anything [I mean it IS from the Cincinnati Christian University, so draw your own conclusions], but I wanted to make sure you knew that as I start telling you this.
I used the morning of my day-off to put in some job applications this morning at business establishments in the area where we'll be moving. In order to start Echo Church with a minimum of overhead, I won't be a full-time employee at first. We've figured out that the church will pay me a little at first, and I'll have a few other jobs on the side in order to make a living. Hopefully, I'll be able to find a church to preach at on Sunday mornings [since our church will meet on Sunday evenings] and that will bring in some income. But I'm still going to have to get a part time job to make ends meet. I really need a place where I can come in early in the morning, so I can have afternoon and evenings open to do church stuff. Pretty much, this limits me to coffee-shop type places.
First, I went up to Mount Adams because I could walk to work if I got a job up there. Unfortunately, there are only two possible places up there: a coffee shop that apparently isn't hiring now and United Dairy Farmers. I think I'd love working at a UDF, since I go there at least once a day. I'm not too sure that they're hiring right now either.
Then I headed up to Joseph-Beth Bookstore in the Rookwood Commons area where I've already applied on-line, to see what they'd say. They said they're going to start doing some interviews at the end of the week, so I left my business card with a manager. This would be my pick of the litter: a job where I'm around books all day long would rock. I stopped by the nearby Starbucks where they said they were hiring but they were out of applications and would be getting some in by Thursday. I'll go back there [and the 2145 other Starbucks on that street] a little later. Finally, I ended up at the Panera Bread in Hyde Park before calling it a morning.
So the most tedious part of this process was filling out the applications. They all asked the exact same questions from previous employer info to educational background. It was with a smug expression on my face that I would fill out the educational part of the application. "I have a Masters Degree," I thought to myself. "I'm the type of highly educated person this company would love to have." But the more I thought about, the worse I felt. If I were in an employers chair and came across and application like mine, I'd probably be skeptical. "I wonder if this guy's ever done a day of hard work in his life," they could question. Sure, higher education gets you a leg up in many professions, but it doesn't mean squat when it comes down to making a latte or cleaning a toilet.
Plus, all my expertise is in the ministry field. Unless a bagel tragically hits the floor and they need a funeral conducted for it, or a self-help book is in desperate need of some counseling, I'm not sure that my background will be that useful. I now find myself at the bottom looking up, hoping that someone is willing to take a chance on me. I'll admit, it's an intimidating and humbling process. And that's exactly why I need to do it.
Everyday people in this world wake up and go to jobs that they despise. How many people really get the opportunity to work at a job that they're passionate about? In ways I've never truly appreciated before, I've been blessed these past seven years. I've been paid to teach Scripture and tell people about Jesus. It's been a good gig. So now I'll get a chance to see how well I do in another setting. And no one will care about my experience or my educational background; it'll all boil down to how hard of a worker I am.
It almost makes me want to hide those degrees, so people don't judge me. I won't hide it, but I don't want people to judge me by it. It's a really good lesson for me. And I'm excited to see what else God teaches me. We'll see what happens.
I'm not really bragging or anything [I mean it IS from the Cincinnati Christian University, so draw your own conclusions], but I wanted to make sure you knew that as I start telling you this.
I used the morning of my day-off to put in some job applications this morning at business establishments in the area where we'll be moving. In order to start Echo Church with a minimum of overhead, I won't be a full-time employee at first. We've figured out that the church will pay me a little at first, and I'll have a few other jobs on the side in order to make a living. Hopefully, I'll be able to find a church to preach at on Sunday mornings [since our church will meet on Sunday evenings] and that will bring in some income. But I'm still going to have to get a part time job to make ends meet. I really need a place where I can come in early in the morning, so I can have afternoon and evenings open to do church stuff. Pretty much, this limits me to coffee-shop type places.
First, I went up to Mount Adams because I could walk to work if I got a job up there. Unfortunately, there are only two possible places up there: a coffee shop that apparently isn't hiring now and United Dairy Farmers. I think I'd love working at a UDF, since I go there at least once a day. I'm not too sure that they're hiring right now either.
Then I headed up to Joseph-Beth Bookstore in the Rookwood Commons area where I've already applied on-line, to see what they'd say. They said they're going to start doing some interviews at the end of the week, so I left my business card with a manager. This would be my pick of the litter: a job where I'm around books all day long would rock. I stopped by the nearby Starbucks where they said they were hiring but they were out of applications and would be getting some in by Thursday. I'll go back there [and the 2145 other Starbucks on that street] a little later. Finally, I ended up at the Panera Bread in Hyde Park before calling it a morning.
So the most tedious part of this process was filling out the applications. They all asked the exact same questions from previous employer info to educational background. It was with a smug expression on my face that I would fill out the educational part of the application. "I have a Masters Degree," I thought to myself. "I'm the type of highly educated person this company would love to have." But the more I thought about, the worse I felt. If I were in an employers chair and came across and application like mine, I'd probably be skeptical. "I wonder if this guy's ever done a day of hard work in his life," they could question. Sure, higher education gets you a leg up in many professions, but it doesn't mean squat when it comes down to making a latte or cleaning a toilet.
Plus, all my expertise is in the ministry field. Unless a bagel tragically hits the floor and they need a funeral conducted for it, or a self-help book is in desperate need of some counseling, I'm not sure that my background will be that useful. I now find myself at the bottom looking up, hoping that someone is willing to take a chance on me. I'll admit, it's an intimidating and humbling process. And that's exactly why I need to do it.
Everyday people in this world wake up and go to jobs that they despise. How many people really get the opportunity to work at a job that they're passionate about? In ways I've never truly appreciated before, I've been blessed these past seven years. I've been paid to teach Scripture and tell people about Jesus. It's been a good gig. So now I'll get a chance to see how well I do in another setting. And no one will care about my experience or my educational background; it'll all boil down to how hard of a worker I am.
It almost makes me want to hide those degrees, so people don't judge me. I won't hide it, but I don't want people to judge me by it. It's a really good lesson for me. And I'm excited to see what else God teaches me. We'll see what happens.