We love songs we can proclaim from rooftops with passion from our gut.
We love an anthem that rallies us around something, puts fire in our bellies, and stretches our vocal chords.
We love an anthem even when it proclaims confusion.
The song, “Some Nights” by fun could not be a truer picture of this time in history and could not have a more enticing, layered melody – a mighty furious, beautiful mess building our Babel.
In the music video, haphazard opposing forces roam while directionless firepower flies and the band pounds out their decidedly lost melody.
The song is certainly saying something.
Even as the chorus rumbles with heavy questions, we are drawn in to sing that something right along with them,
“Oh Lord, I’m still not sure what I stand for oh
What do I stand for? What do I stand for?
Most nights, I don’t know anymore…
Oh woah, oh woah, oh woah oh oh
Oh woah, oh woah, oh woah oh oh”
Some nights … most nights … I don’t know … luck … wish … who am I?
These are words that describe a generation, words that build the walls of our own Babylon. We have exiled ourselves from meaning and certainty and hope.
And then we made it an anthem.
This is the music of waywardness.
Our art reflects our hearts and in the mirror we see a despairing image. Makoto Fujimura, artist, writer, and speaker, says, “We, today, have a language to celebrate waywardness, but we do not have a cultural language to bring people back home.”
When the music of waywardness becomes the anthem of a generation, one must consider if the straining vocal chords declare a superlative-worthy message or if best is reserved for something absolutely certain.
It’s hard for me to imagine someone who welcomes death and darkness like I welcome light and love – someone who longs to be in utter, distant loneliness forever. There are such people and Cormac McCarthy introduced me to one such person last night in his screenplay, “The Sunset Limited,” an HBO film.
The entire film takes place in a cramped apartment where two men take ahold of the other’s worldview by the collar and give it a thorough shaking. Their lives could not read more opposite, but their human-ness keeps them in a wordy banter between death and life.
Several times it felt like the wind got knocked clean out my lungs, so direct was the attack on the anchor to which my soul is bound. After Black (played by Samuel L. Jackson) rescued him from a suicide attempt, White (played by Tommy Lee Jones) refuses to give up hope on one thing: giving up. He plans to end his life and finally find peace in the nothingness – the void, dark, solitary space beyond. Everything he valued in life as a respected professor revealed itself as an illusion and in his ‘enlightened’ state the only logical response was suicide.
The despair was palpable as White spoke – like death’s bony hand had already strangled the life out of him, twisting up his insides. When his eyes attempt to betray the death in his soul, his words pound harder the nails on his vacant coffin. Emptiness.
Black (Jackson) is a man of conviction and a self-proclaimed ‘outlaw’ when it comes to faith. He lives in a rough tenement, surrounded by junkies and crackheads, and claims to not have a single thought apart from his Bible knowledge. He lives simply, available and eager to be used by God in the lives of broken people. And White (Jones) would have nothing to do with his charity.
With the striking boldness of a man who has seen death battle in front of him all his life, Black debates the meaning of life with White (and on several occasions requests an everyman paraphrase). Though we are pulled this way and that, the end of the film closes without resolution. We suppose that White left the same man who walked into the shabby room, a pending suicide statistic. We suppose that, though Black is shaken, he remains faithful to the God who took him down to the train tracks the night before.
The irresolute ending feels like a rope unraveled. Brilliant dialogues pull the pieces apart across 91 minutes. In a last, desperate effort to reach White, Black responds to the man’s hope for the cold darkness of suicide,
“Maybe you could just keep that in reserve. Maybe just take a shot at startin over. I dont mean start again. Everybody’s done that. Over means over. It means you walk away. I mean, if everthing you are and everthing you have and everthing you have done has brought you at last to the bottom of a whiskey bottle or bought you a one way ticket on the Sunset Limited then you cant give me the first reason on God’s earth for salvagin none of it. Cause they aint no reason. And I’m goin to tell you that if you can bring yourself to shut the door on all of that it will be cold and it will be lonely and they’ll be a mean wind blowin. And them is all good signs. You dont say nothin. You just turn up your collar and keep walkin.”
― Cormac McCarthy, The Sunset Limited
Black suggests that if White’s life has brought him to make such a terminal decision as suicide, then he’s come to the end of himself. If there is nothing to salvage (nothing except death itself holds meaning), what could be lost in starting over but that which could be gained by starting over?
When White responds with probably the most horrifying monologue of the entire film, we can almost taste the human depravity as it drips off his lips. Void. Cold. Death.
And the viewer must decide what or who is capable of arranging the unraveled strands into something meaningful. The viewer must battle with his own demons and despairs when everything is shaken free of its settled skin.
The viewer must decide if he is the anchor or if the anchor is deeper than his frail, human skin.
Well, here are some links I’m rolling out on this Tuesday. I’m dragging my feet a bit, but I’ve got to run before I lose motivation. Check these things out, friends, and let me know what you think.
When I was growing up, I would pull out classical bundles of music from the shelves in the piano room and ask my mom to play. She would always say, “Oh, honey… it’s been so long. I don’t even know if I can play this anymore…” but I could always tell she’d give in to my request and let dinner or the dishes or the laundry wait a few minutes so we could revel in the classics. This piece from BrainPickings, “Tchaikovsky on Work Ethic vs. Inspiration“ brings me back to those moments in the music room, but not just because my mom worked hard at being a musician. Also because she worked hard at being a mom – inspiration came in both cases as a result of her work. This post is about a letter Tchaikovsky wrote to his benefactress and the whole thing is beautiful – please go read it!
Sometimes I don’t understand art, I’ll admit. But, maybe it’s the philosopher in me that loves what art says about who we are as a culture. Artists (and curators) kind of get to play the music that contemporary culture writes as it defines itself through values and norms. So, this piece in the NYT, “The Fine Art of Being a Curator” struck me because of what it means for the music. Ahem.. So, if culture decides what is important right now, artists translate those things to canvas, buildings, statues, etc., then curators get to decide what does the best job of playing the music. Maybe this is another post in the making. The article is really very straightforward – talks about how curators are becoming more established as a field. I just can’t help but ask, “Who sets the standards for good art?” But that’s probably because I’m not, “in the know” about these kinds of things.
What would you say if a doctor told you that you had a brain defect that saved your life? That’s nearly what happened for a young Aurora woman after she was shot at the theatre during the Dark Knight premiere. Read the story here, “A Smiling Providence in Aurora, Colorado“ from Denny Burk.
I love books and I love libraries – this post takes us inside the libraries of famous writers and I have to stop myself from drooling. Each nook looks so dreamy!
I like rap. This new album from KB “Weight of Glory” is pretty spectacular. I wanted to post a video that wasn’t all lyric, so check out this “behind the scenes” look at a young man who’s got serious talent and serious opportunity to bring the message of hope through his gift. Worth a listen, for real.
Here’s the video he talks about to the song, “Open Letter”
That’s all for now. I’m going to go pound the pavement on a night run.
I was gone last week in Michigan, but I tried to stay up on my reading. I slipped away a few times to work and inevitably ended up perusing Twitter and the blogosphere to find out what’s going on in the world. I think of my twitter account like one of those tickers that talk about the Dow Jones or Wall Street (I guess all that information flying across the screen is about the economy or something). Twitter is more my cup ‘o tea because it’s an aggregator of information of news in theology, arts, crafts, foods, and popular headlines. I don’t find everything there, but between twitter and blog posts sent to my email, I read a lot of content from a computer screen. Here are some of the things I’ve found.
How well do you know the saints? You know, the ones that get their soundbites memorialized on those inspirational posters with landscape scenery. How well do you know about their lives, their ministries, and their beliefs? Do you know them well enough to recognize when they are being misrepresented? St. Francis of Assisi is famous for saying, “Preach the gospel at all times. Use words if necessary.” There is one huge problem with this inspiration – it didn’t happen. Check out this great article, “FactChecker: Misquoting Francis of Assisi“ by Glenn T. Stanton to find out more.
This short article, “No Such Thing as the Gift of Evangelism” by Ed Stetzer exposes the excuses far too many believers use to ‘get out of’ sharing the gospel with others. I’m interested to know your thoughts – especially if you’ve taken a Spiritual Gifts Inventory that said you are not gifted in evangelism. Stetzer shares four proposals that I think are very helpful.
Have you ever wondered where the statistics come from that say a child in the foster care system requires 40 square feet to live in the state of Iowa (true story, I checked)? Where does research come from and why do we trust it? Who is checking and double checking the methods of the researchers and how many re-writes of the results happen before the public sees it? Here’s the biggest question: when we don’t agree with what research finds, is it bad research or just disagreeable results? A professor at UT conducted research of children of gay parents and came up with some very UNpopular results. A blogger wrote a letter and now the University of Texas is looking into his “questionable” ethics in the study. Check out this article from Denny Burk, “The Witch-Hunt for Mark Regnerus” and see if you can make sense of it.
This article, “The New Sexual Identity Crisis” from Jeff Buchanan (Executive Vice President of Exodus International) writes about the identity fragmentation that we see in regards to sexuality. Too many people have chalked it up to progress or trend or fad and not enough of us have taken a deep look at what it means for society and culture that we are a people so sexually confused. This article gives great insight.
In this video, Jonah Lehrer shares that “grit is the stubborn refusal to quit.” I love that. I can support 99% when it stands for good, old-fashioned perspiration. If you’ve got the time, his insights on creativity and how we get there are really refreshing.
I am a huge fan of the arts. HUGE. My mom is a music teacher, my dad’s family of 10 grew up performing, and I grew up on the stage with my siblings in church and school productions. This story in the Huffington Post, “Grace, Love, Courage: on Art, Artists, and Patronage” talks about one particular person and her support of the arts.
As always, I could give you more, but these should keep you pretty busy. Enjoy, folks, and don’t forget: knowledge is useless if it doesn’t result in acts of love. Even knowledge of what’s going on in the world should point us back to ways that we can serve and share the hope of the gospel.
Now concerning food offered to idols: we know that “all of us possess knowledge.” This “knowledge” puffs up, but love builds up. If anyone imagines that he knows something, he does not yet know as he ought to know. But if anyone loves God, he is known by God.
There’s a reason hope is described as an anchor in Hebrews 6.
We have this as a sure and steadfastanchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain,
(Hebrews 6:19 ESV)
An anchor is unmovable – it’s what holds the ship in place when the waves are doing their darndest to toss it out to sea. The anchor is solid, stubborn weight digging deep into the sand and there’s nothing slippery about it.
If this is how the Bible describes hope – sure, steadfast, and stored in the deepest place within us – why do we treat it like such a slippery thing? Why does our culture insist that hope is elusive and uncertain and temperamental?
This article, The Urgency of Hope by Chris Castaldo over at The Gospel Coalition captures this dreadful misunderstanding. He writes about the alarming suicide rates around the world and what we offer as substitutes for true Hope,
The great English journalist and satirist Malcolm Muggeridge, reflecting on forms of despair in the 20th century—particularly among proponents of Stalin in Russia and Western nihilists devoted to materialism and abortion—said modern man has a “suicidal impulse,” a type of self-hatred. This impulse has spawned a bewildering number of proposals to cure, or at least curb, the problem. Unfortunately, varied as they are, these remedies share a common thread: their ingenuity and power are limited to human resources.
We’ve replaced the anchor of hope with something like the Claw arcade game. The child stands and stares for several minutes with growing excitement – imagining the plush toy that could be hers in a few moments. Then, she puts two quarters in the machine and moves the joystick around tentatively, preparing to make a move. She starts to breathe faster as she decides to go for the pink teddy bear. With one last shaky breath, she pushes the read button and watches speechless as the metal claw descends on the mound of stuffed treasures. The claw grabs the pink teddy’s right ear and her premature delight comes out in a squeal… quickly silenced by shock as the pink teddy wiggles out of the metal grasp to land in the pile once again.
Nothing about the child’s hope to walk away with the plush, pink teddy is certain.
This kind of hope is slippery. We spend a lot of time trying to figure out how to hold on tight enough to keep it around for another day.
This kind of Hope is nothing like an anchor. The next verse from Hebrews 6 reads like this:
where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever after the order of Melchizedek.
(Hebrews 6:20 ESV)
There’s no speculation – nothing slippery or elusive about what Jesus did on the cross. Our HOPE is anchored in Christ’s definitive work on the cross. He went before as a forerunner on our behalf – He walked right into the punishment we deserved, suffered in our place, and then sat down because the work is finished. Our Hope is seated, like an anchor, at the right hand of the Father because He is so sure that our future is secure in light of His sacrifice.
No other message of hope will steady a boat amidst the waves. No other message will do.
If it’s hope you are looking for, don’t look to a politician or a parent or a partner unless you want to anchor your ship with another ship being tossed about. Don’t reach for a medication or a work promotion or a new burst of self-esteem unless you are confident your ship can survive the strongest storm sailing solo.
If it’s hope you are looking for, you will only find it in Jesus – seated like an anchor next to the Father without even the slightest chance of movement.
If it’s HOPE you are looking for, reach for the one that can be caught.
In the beginning, God spoke; at Mount Sinai, God wrote.
God’s relationship with humanity has always been understood through words. God very intentionally used language to communicate who He was, what He required, and the consequences of disobedience.
He did not merely paint a striking sunset followed by an unsettling thunderstorm.
He spoke.
Yes, His words carried the weight of canyons and oceans and galaxies far, far away. What came out of his mouth was not paintings, but real, vivid, breathtaking landscapes. God’s words wove intricate molecules together and held them there.
And then God reached his finger down and wrote a book, etched on two tablets. He did not draw a picture or send an instagram photo to the people of Israel who had just been rescued out of slavery. He wrote words.
What gives?
Words, it seems, are going out of style.
My generation is being romanced into image-only relationships where words are subliminal (if a picture is worth a thousand, why write at all?).
It is not that images or photographs or illustrations or cartoons are poor ways to reflect our Creator. Au contraire! This is exactly how we reflect God, because he’s given us the desire and ability to create in a way that points to His perfect Creative hand.
But God did not leave us to figure out His plan for redemption by viewing only his perfect and miraculous creation. He spoke to the people. He wrote out the law.
The redemption story jumping out from Genesis to Revelation is not a mystery because God used language to explicitly communicate His plan for salvation. We are not left standing in front of an abstract piece to interpret its meaning. He gave us Creation – beauty beyond belief – and then He spoke to us and explained the significance of our existence, the despairing end of our freely chosen separation from Him, and the hope of restored relationship in Christ.
He wrote it out.
And that is why words will never go out of style. God speaks with words.
Are we listening?
let LOVE fly like cRaZy
These thoughts come from my reflections on the book Lit! by Tony Reinke. Check it out for yourself if you want to understand why reading is so important.
Hey, friends! Here’s another short-list of things you should read/click/watch/do. I hope this Monday is anything but manac and everything wonderful!
This series on short-term mission trips from the Gospel Coalition is extremely helpful in giving some understanding to a really hard topic. Short-term missions is just something Western churches do, even if it doesn’t need doing. Read the first article, “Celebrating the Short-Term Missions Boom ” and then the second, “Why You Should Consider Canceling Your Short-Term Missions Trip .” There is a third on the way.
How many of you start books and never finish them? How many of you are “reading” 5 books at the moment and a few of those you’ve been “reading” for 5 years? This article, “Biblical Literacy Begins with Reading,” reveals a problem we may have thought little about. It’s not about getting the Bible into the hands of more people. It’s about teaching those people to obey (Matthew 28) by actually reading and understanding the Bible in a way that translates into life. But not the kind of reading that we do haphazardly – intentional, focused reading with accountability.
There are a lot of Christian books out there about how to be radical today – how to live simply, be significant, make a difference, and all that jazz. Micah Project, an organization I worked with while I lived in Honduras, is not a tagline, but a transformational ministry. Take a look at this video to see their story (narrated by a boy who went from street kid to professional through the power of Jesus).
And, just because I don’t want your Monday to drag, check out this article on the “awe of God.” It puts theology and Mondays in their rightful places.
It has been a LONG while since I posted links for “this & that.” I’ll just trust you’ve been doing your own sleuthing. In the chance that you haven’t, here are some things you should look up.
Friends, please watch this trailer for the documentary, “Captivated.” The lure of media-saturated living is so great and happened so subtly that we barely realize our bondage.
I mostly get my movie recommendations from the blogs I read and this post by Thabiti Anyabwilemakes me want to look up listings for Prometheus right away. Now, for finding the time to go to the theatre…
Oh, did you think eugenics was a thing of the past? This brilliant piece in the NYTimes, “Eugenics, Past and Future”reveals where the idea (because things like public policy always start with ideas and end up with society-altering implications) originated and which great minds were involved in its inception. Now, what does the conversation look like today? I wish there wasn’t one.
This timelapse video of Yosemite is breathtaking. Such beauty – really unexplainable beauty. If you’ve got 4 minutes, you won’t be wasting it by watching this video.
This is a hard story to read, so don’t click unless you are ready. It’s not one that is filled with hope in the last lines or rings of redemption – this story is streaked with pain. This freelance writer (and blogger) writes about her very real and frightful struggle with a daughter who has acute mental illness, “In the never after.“
Now, can I make a shameless plug? Um, I’m trying to … well, I’m trying to “be” a blogger. I guess I mean that in the sense that I’d love to have more “hits” and “pings” and all those things that make your readership grow. Not because I have something to say, or maybe it is because of that. In any case, I’ve been told one of the ways to find more readers is to have them “like” you on facebook. There is a facebook image on my sidebar and if you click on it, you can “like” my blog on facebook. There, I said it and I can’t give you anything for doing it. Just do it if you want to and don’t do it if you don’t.
It’s been awhile since a “this & that” post. There’s plenty to look at, click on, hear, watch, and do. Do as little or as lot as you wish, but whatever you do – let knowledge be something that produces action. It’s my hope that the more I know, the more I can translate that knowledge into love actions in a way that pleases my Lord. Just like all Truth is God’s, all knowledge is possible only because He’s allowed it to be so.
Andrée Seu is a woman I’d love to meet. This piece, “Under an Open Heaven,” seems to be a page right out of my heart. Here’s a taste, now please go read the rest!
My lover is the fresh wind of the Spirit, blowing through the rafters of my melancholy. My lover speaks of God “in season and out of season,” like Jesus at the well in Sychar, in his fatigue and hunger. There is no difference between his “religious” talk and his regular talk. He does not sound one way in church and another at the mall.
Walking with him I feel no sides, no floor, no ceiling, and everything all new: No past, no future. No rules but God’s. No servitude but to Him. No man-made impossibilities. We do the adventure called “where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.” Let me be blunt: This is fun!
If I could choose a conference to go to this summer (in addition to the Muslim Missions Conference in Dearborn, Michigan), it would be the gem of a conference in Florida – The Gospel Coalition Women’s Conference. The next best thing, of course, is to read/listen to everything. Carrie Sandom, hailing from the UK, will be speaking and here’s an introduction that makes me excited to hear more from her. “Learn the Bible to Teach the Bible” makes a bunch of sense.
Do you doubt that a landlocked country could surf waves? Doubt no more. This is really sweet.
Not to be “that kind of fan,” but Metaxas has proved himself as a brilliant writer and historian (Amazing Grace and Bonhoeffer). This article, “Spirituality as Parody” is definitely worth the read as well (and a lot shorter than Bonhoeffer).
So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
.
.
Practice resurrection.
(snippets from Wendell Berry’s 1973 poem, “Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front”from The Country of Marriage)
I’ve been meaning to read more of Wendell Berry and summer seems like a good time to “get around to it.” The vibrant green leaves and the smell of blooming peonies seem a fitting backdrop to his poetry. I map my runs to intentionally include the rowdy peony bushes on S. 3rd Street. I always “stretch” long enough to fill my lungs with peony air before putting my race face on again.
The smell of peony makes me sad for people who don’t lean over to breathe in their beauty.
And that’s why Wendell Berry’s advice to, “practice resurrection” is nestling nicely somewhere deep in my soul. We are so forgetful. We live like we don’t know we’re resurrected. We live like we’re not sure how this day will end. We live like Christ’s resurrection was too long ago to rearrange my daily toil. We live like all the wonder in the wind moving through the trees is something not everyone has the time to admire.
We live like we’ve forgotten how to practice resurrection.
We were dead in our trespasses and sins. Dead. Gone. Lost. Limp. Lifeless. Stuck. Trapped. Suffocated. Dead.
There’s no way to make that sound nice or easy. But if that were the end, I would have a hard time getting you to stop and smell the peonies.
But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved—and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.
(Ephesians 2:4-10 ESV)
But, God…
What a beautiful interjection!
What an altogether unexpected and undeserved display of mercy!
What glorious gratitude is birthed when life displaces death!
This is our resurrection. We are made alive together with Christ. We are raised up from the grave to sit with Him, to search out the immeasurable riches of His grace, to seek all the beauty of His face reflected in the glory of creation. This is our resurrection.
Practice resurrection today, friends.
Practice resurrection and do not forget.
Practice resurrection because, in Christ, life has displaced death.
MUSINGS IN THE MIDST 