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Introduction To The House of Carr
Introduction To The House of Carr

Foul Ball

OK, I have to revisit this. I figured that Mayor Mallory's poor attempt at the first pitch on Opening Day would attract some attention, but I had no idea it would go this far. It was wall-to-wall on ESPN today and, apparently, it even got mentioned on CNN International. Before we proceed, you out-of-towners gotta check out the effort:

I've met the Mayor on numerous occasions while on his Young Professionals cabinet. He is a quality guy: very intelligent, well spoken, and he even has a great sense of humor. The way the political system in Cincinnati and Hamilton County is set up, the mayor of this city can only do so much to make any change around here. Mallory receives a lot of criticism for being ineffective when, the real issue is, the entire system needs total rehaul. I really doubt any mayor will make a noticeable difference until city and county governments are combined. Mallory's doing the best he can do with what he has.

That being said, I honestly think that brutal first pitch dented his reputation. You might not think that people are that fickle, but I believe they are. Prediction to pack away: the first pitch footage will surface again during the next campaign. And if he ever runs for higher office, he'll be known as "that mayor guy who can't throw."

Today the Mayor made the following statement: "All I know is Bob Castellini called me up and asked me to throw out the first pitch and you can't say no to that."

Um, yes you can. You open up your mouth, pronounce the hard "n" consonant followed by the "o," as in, "oh no, that ball is headed for the dugout."

One thing I perceived is that I didn't think the Mayor was that athletic. He's in great shape, but not necessarily an athlete. All Monday morning I was telling Kelly that it wasn't going to be a good move. Again, I am a prophet.

The Mayor is surrounded by a bunch of smart young guys who are incredibly proficient in their jobs. But I can't imagine that not one of them made sure to ask the boss if he could throw. There's no shame in admitting you can't. This is an instance where I say it's best not to try at all. I'm not going to be joining a hockey league with my friend Dale anytime soon. Sure, I love hockey, but I can't skate. I'm honest with myself about my abilities. And hopefully, I've surrounded myself with counsel that will let me know if I'm in over my head. Maybe it's a good lesson for all of us: do you have people around you who will bring you back to earth when you get caught up in your own hype?

I hope the Mayor can get past this event. In all likelihood, it'll probably be fine. But it could've [and should've] been avoided. Having to spend a day spinning a mishap like this is not time well spent.

endnote: I still laugh when I watch the footage. The best part is Eric Davis who was absolutely horrified.

Baseball Is Back

Tuning in to Fox Sports Ohio, we have great seats for Opening Day [and they're going to broadcast all but twenty games this year, so that's awesome]. Already saw Mayor Mallory butcher the first pitch, begging the question: if you know you can't throw, why offer to throw the first pitch of the biggest game of the year? And Adam Dunn already went yard, meaning he only needs a strikeout and a walk today for his natural trifecta. So we packed up the little girl this morning and headed to Over-The-Rhine to watch the Reds Opening Day parade. It's been about twenty years since I last saw the parade, and it was Kelly and Kaelyn's first. The weather was perfect and we had a blast. Here are some pictures of our outing. First, the cute ones:

And now for the other interesting things we saw:

A huge Pete Rose head , haircut circa 1978.

Nothing says "family friendly parade" like a strip club advertisement.

Nice to know that our tax dollars are going to Pimp The Air Force's ride.

And before I could post this, Adam Dunn hit his second home-run. He's now on pace to hit over 500 home-runs this year, allowing him to pass both Barry Bonds and Hank Aaron next year.

On The Back Side

I crossed over today. I knew it would happen. It was inevitable. I spanked Kaelyn.

*Sidebar: Now I know that some of you reading this might be appalled that I could do such a thing to our little girl. Before you go all Oprah on me, let's agree to disagree. I could easily mount a Biblical defense on spanking. It's all about how you choose to raise your children. This is how we chose to do it, so just respect that.

Anyway, Kaelyn has been fully sensing out her surroundings for a few months now. Off-limits for her is the television area, with the cable box and DVD player. Once she started crawling, she headed straight for it and we told her sternly, "no!" As she continued to progress, she realized it was wrong and would head towards it with a grin; she wanted to see if she would get away with it. We'd say, "no," she'd look at us, shake her head no, then proceed to go for it. At first, we'd just move her away.

Over a month ago, it was time that we let her know that we mean it. After the verbal warning, we'd grab her hand and smack it. It never phased her; I guess she still has those chubby hands that are pretty cushioned. But we continued to do it, nonetheless, hoping it would make a difference.

So while Kelly went to the hospital to visit a friend today, and me and the little girl were by ourselves, it was still same-old, same-old: Kaelyn heads to the TV, I say, "no," she looks at me shaking her head and does it anyway. I proceeded to smack her hand and moved her to the other side of the room. Without missing a beat, she crawled straight back to it.

I didn't plan on it, but it was finally time.

I picked her up and swatted her rear end a couple of times. She paused and looked at me and broke out into a huge cry. I held her for a few minutes, took her outside, and she was back to normal, happy and smiling.

Boy, that sucked. It's one of the worst experiences I've had with Kaelyn thus far. I always knew that this was how we'd raise our children, but I didn't know it would be this difficult.

I obviously love my little girl, so I don't want to hurt her. But I love her enough that I won't hesitate to spank her. We're at the beginning of a process to form her into the best woman of God that she can be. Even at this early stage of her life, she's learning. She's beginning to understand right and wrong. And she needs to understand that you can't get away with doing whatever you want in this world. Unfortunately, that means all of our experiences won't be just smiles and giggles. She's not going to like me all the time. But I can live with that.

This whole parenting thing is tougher than I thought it would be.

Now That's Biblical Imagery

My favorite part of Mel Gibson's Passion of The Christ was a scene at the beginning of the film. Jesus is praying in the Garden if Gethsemane before his arrest and interacts with Satan. While this exchange isn't exactly Biblical, it gets there as Jesus steps on the head of a snake. Although it's a metaphor, I find the visual compelling. That's why I thought Mars Hill Church in Seattle was rocking when they released the following graphic to advertise their Good Friday services:

I should have thought of that.

Going Simple

I haven't been updating the House of Carr website lately. I think it's because I wasn't thrilled with the way it looked. I decided I should just strip it down and go with a simple layout that would leave me more inclined to keep it updated. So if you don't normally go there, stop on by houseofcarr.com. At the very least, I have some more Kaelyn pics there.

"I'll Kill A Snitch"

It's not that I hate Peyton Manning, but I can't stand the Colts [nor could I stomach Tennessee]. But as a regular Saturday Night Live viewer, I was interested to see how he would do hosting this past week. I would claim that he was one of the best actor among all the athletes they've had on the show in recent years. Unfortunately, the writing was hideous this past week, even compared to recent standards. It was almost as if the material was below him.

There was one shinning moment, however. This fake United Way commercial still makes me laugh a few days later.

iTeach

I received a piece of mail today addressed to "Reverend Steve Carr." I'd never call myself that but I still get a kick out of seeing it in print. I mean, who would ever consider me as being revered? My wife knows the truth. I was asked a couple of weeks ago about my title. All of our publications list me as being a teaching pastor. I chose the title myself, and I did it rather intentionally. I did so because it best expresses my position in our young church.

First, I am a pastor. Do a Greek word study [or perhaps a geek word study] and you see the terms elder, pastor, presbyter, overseer, and bishop are used interchangeably; they all refer to a shepherd. That's my role at Echo: I'm supposed to pastor our flock. Currently we only have two pastors, but we plan on developing a larger group of shepherds over the next few years.

Second, the part of the job I'm more passionate about, I am a teacher. I guess I get that passion from my parents who both love to teach. It is my role to instruct our church concerning the Word of God. I take this responsibility very seriously. I spend hours each week in study so I can share a message each Sunday. You might not think this is much work, but presenting fresh and relevant information every week forty-plus times a year ain't easy. I love the challenge; there's nothing else I'd rather do.

One thing I've discovered since we started Echo is that I'm teaching much longer than I used to. I used to feel constrained when I spoke in previous ministries, afraid I would go over on time. Now, since our services last as long as we feel like, I teach until I'm finished; when I'm finished, I stop. This means I speak anywhere from forty minutes [my average] to just shy of an hour like I did yesterday. I suppose now that this info is out there, some of you won't be visiting Echo anytime soon.

You may reason that's why we've not experienced huge growth: because I preach way to long. I've found this to be untrue. Actually, people keep coming back despite my long-windedness. I believe people are more apt to embrace this longer preaching because of two things: 1) I do prepare a lot and strive to keep it interesting and 2) I teach straight out of the Bible.

People today are extremely curious about the Bible but know very little about it. This recent Time Magazine article verifies this, claiming that more public schools are offering Bible classes so kids will be familiar with the book. As a church that values depth, we take advantage of this. Echo is committed to unpacking the mysteries of Scripture every week. We might go deeper than some people prefer, but we'll never be able to get everyone up-to-speed with basic Christian theology in just one week. So why bother trying? There's nothing wrong with making people think hard about their faith, even if it takes weeks, months, and even years to develop.

I teach the only way I know how. And I'm having fun doing it.

I Am Jesus

No, I'm not José Luis De Jesús Miranda, but there was this one time I was Jesus. Yesterday the Enquirer posted an article about men who play Jesus in local Passion plays. They also published an article about the training that goes into such a role. It brought back memories of four years ago when I was Jesus in Christ's Church at Mason's Easter play. I sorta fell into the role. They were already a month into rehearsals when the guy playing Jesus dropped out. Dave, the music minister, knew I could act a little and asked if I could fill in. I figured I might as well give it a shot. I mean, what would Jesus do?

But it took a lot more work than I bargained for. I took over the role at the end of January, leaving me about twelve weeks to get ready. First, I started to grow a beard. I had never grown a full beard before, nor will I likely do it ever again; it was annoyingly itchy. Grizzly Adams I am not. I then proceeded to get in shape. I wasn't in horrible shape, but I didn't want people to see Jesus on the cross and ask, "is our Lord a tad pudgy this year?" So I had to tone up.

I hate working out, so my routine consisted of running and playing sports. I also altered my diet to help out the process. In addition to abandoning all sweets, I decided I'd try to keep a kosher diet [again, it's what Jesus would've done]. The "no crustacean" part wasn't a bother since I never eat it anyway, but cutting out pig from my diet was rough. For some reason it felt like everywhere we went during that time had bacon cooking. One time I ordered a salad for lunch and it was covered with bacon pieces; I picked all of them off. It was a sad, but I stuck with it throughout the duration. All I can remember is that after that last show, we headed to the local steak place where I ordered a huge plate of cheese fries. I asked for extra bacon.

Also, they insisted that I had darker skin. I wasn't about to go to a tanning salon, so I had to use that fake tan stuff. It absolutely sucked. It had a certain stench to it. And it got all over my clothes. Plus, you can never get a consistent coat with that stuff so I had to romp around town with a streaky orange hue. What really peeved me off is that for the performances they caked make-up on me to make me even darker. Still not sure why I had to fake, fake bake it.

Obviously, getting into character was difficult, but the most strenuous part was the cross scene. The elevated stage left me some 25 feet above ground level. I was tied to the cross and held on to nails that fit around my hands; there was an angled foot stand that allowed me to support my weight. There was a moment, when the soldiers lowered the cross into the hole, that the cross leaned forward, giving the sensation that you would fall forward. It took numerous rehearsals in order for me to get used to it.

And then there was the strain on my arms. For the cross scene I was up there almost 25 minutes. Even though my arms weren't holding me up, it was painful to hold them up. Every night was an ordeal. But that part of the experience is the most memorable to me. It really helped me appreciate what Jesus really went through on the cross. I was in pain just acting like I was crucified. The act of crucifixion was meant to be excruciating as well as humiliating. And Jesus endured it for us. It's unbelievable. My Jesus experience challenged me to reevaluate the way I sometimes flippantly thought about and spoke of His sacrifice on the cross.

I wasn't worthy. But none of us are. And that's the lesson I took away from that role. That's why Jesus is the most amazing figure in world history. And hat's why my life is consumed with following Him and teaching others to do the same.

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Invisible Children Screening

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In 2003 three guys at a Christian college in California went on a trip to Uganda, an African nation in the midst of a civil war. They took along some video equipment looking to record their trip. While there, they discovered that Ugandan children were being abducted in the middle of the night and forced to fight in the resistance army. The only way the kids could stay safe was to walk over two miles every night in order to sleep in a safe village. The guys were convicted enough that they wanted to expose the plight of these kids to the American public. The result was an independent documentary called Invisible Children.

I became exposed to this film a couple of years ago when a young lady in our college ministry exposed us to it; she actually went to Biola University with these guys. Since then, Invisible Children has spread virally and has made a huge impact in Uganda. While much has been done, there's much more to do.

Echo is hosting a team from the Invisible Children organization this Thursday night at 7pm at the Walnut Hills Christian Church to screen the film and explain their ministry. You could help us out by 1) attending or 2) encouraging anyone you know that would be interested to come. There is no charge for the event. Just come and see how you can make a difference from across the globe.

For more information check out the Echo website as well as the Invisible Children site.

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Was That Your Auntie?

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Killed a bug tonight. Killed it real good.

Normally I wouldn't boast about killing a bug. It is one of my assigned family responsibilities. We had a slew of bugs at our previous house so, whenever Kelly spotted one, I knew I needed to transition to Terminator mode.

We haven't had too many bugs here but about three weeks ago a cricket started to chirp in the basement. At first, I think we thought it was cute: a little bit of a country feel in the big city. We were out of town last week, so we were sorta hoping that he'd die or get laryngitis or something (I said "he" because only male crickets can chirp). But when we returned home, that bugger was still chirping for love in all the wrong places. And the tiled floor downstairs made it all the louder. It wasn't so cute anymore.

He was well hidden, maneuvering between our laundry room and under the refrigerator. I've spent a couple of minutes the past few nights searching him out to no avail. But after watching 24 tonight and seeing how nice guy Rick[y] Schroeder went into hardcore interrogation mode, I knew I had to catch the cricket.

Usually getting close to the cricket causes him to shut-up, but tonight he kept at it. I discovered that he was hiding underneath the drywall between the laundry room and kitchen. Clever boy, but not clever enough. I won't go any further into the details, suffice to say, the bug is no more. Victory is mine.

He was a worthy adversary.

Bob And Me

So this past week I was at a camp in southeastern Indiana for a minsters retreat. It was a little more than a camp, as it was the Country Lake Retreat Center- a first class facility. And it was a little more than a ministers retreat as it featured some exclusive mentoring time with Bob Russell. Bob recently retired as minister at the Southeast Christian Church in Louisville, a congregation with a weekly attendance of almost 20,000 people. More impressive than that staggering number is the way that Bob led the church towards such extraordinary growth. While many churches today are able to grow large with flashy multimedia or various programming, Southeast grew because of solid Biblical preaching. They're still rather traditional in their methodology, but God definitely blessed their efforts. I believe it was due to the humility and holy approach that Bob brought into that pulpit.

Their were only eight of us there this week, all of us church planters. This gave us incredible opportunities for personal interaction with Bob, a chance to see sides of him that few get to witness. The staff assisting with the retreat were amazing; first class in every aspect. And everything was paid for- food, housing, and recreation- because of the generosity of a man in California. We talked about leadership and had the opportunity to take behind the scenes tours Churchill Downs and the Louisville Slugger factory [at the bat museum, we were guided by the CEO and grandson of LS's founder, Jack Hillerich]. One night we ate at one of the swankiest restaurants in Louisville. Best steak I've ever eaten.

One of the surprising blessings of the retreat was the camaraderie that developed between us ministers. I had the chance to meet some guys from all over the country in all kinds of situations. Despite the differences in our backgrounds we had a great time of interacting, both joking around and encouraging each other. I know I'll keep in touch with these guys, looking forward to how God will work in their ministries.

I certainly had a great week of introspection. More than ever, I feel confident that Echo was what God needed from us. I'm actually reenergized and ready to get back to the work of our church.

It was very, very good.

Predictive Prophecy

I've pretty much decided that this week was shot so I'm settling in to watch some March Madness. So far, the brackets are in tact. But to tip my cards, I have Xavier beating the Buckeyes tomorrow night. I think OSU is suspect. Anyway, I glanced up at the TV to watch a commercial for the Major League Baseball 2K7 video game. It shows these in-game pictures of players like Derek Jeter and Dontrell Willis. I guess it's pretty cool; this is why I don't play video games.

But something else caught my eye.

The unstoppable power of my DVR allowed me to rewind and study the end of the commercial in slow motion. They were showing a team winning either the pennant or the World Series. And who was that team? The Cincinnati Reds.

Not sure if this is a good sign or the Madden jinx.

Back To Reality

The silence is broken. I'm back. I was out of town this week and have quite a few stories to tell. Perhaps one or two of you was curious as to why there were no posts this week. I'm just not one of those people who like to blog about their upcoming trips. Posting that kind of info on the web seems a little foolish. If I had written that Kelly and I would be out of town for a few days, what's to keep one of you from breaking into our house? You can't be trusted.

So we're back and I'll soon fill you in on our whereabouts.

And I have a gun so stay away from my house, robbers.

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Where Are You From?

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Cincinnati. And I mean it. I spent a portion of my days in the suburbs north of 275 along I-75. For years it was nothing but farmland, but now its pure suburbia.

Saw some interesting things. Drove past a plot of land destined to be the sight of a Bible church bordered by a Sikh temple and a Kingdom Hall on either side. Also saw a deer stand in the middle of a brand new subdivision.

Anyway, as this area continues to grow there's continued speculation that Cincinnati/Dayton will become a huge mega-region like Dallas/Fort Worth. This would make it the 15th largest metropolitan area in the country. But ask the people in the area where they live and you get a pretty consistent answer: Cincinnati.

I continually find this interesting in the midst of continual Cincy bashing. Everyone wants the benefits that accompany an urban metropolis but they don't want to acknowledge why it even exists. Take away the city of Cincinnati and suburbs like West Chester, Mason, and Florence don't exist.

All I'm asking is that if you're going to drink the cow's milk, at least feed it some grass.

Or some rural proverb like that.

Maybe it has to be your bull.