Hunchback of Notre Dame

Tonight we're watching movies to get us ready for our Europe trip, and we just watched Disney's "The Hunchback of Notre Dame." I had forgotten the greatness of this movie.

As it started, we were all taken a bit aback by the darkness of it. But as Esmerelda took sanctuary in Notre Dame and prayed, not asking for herself, but for the outcast, for those she knew worse off than herself--juxtaposed in her duet with Frolo praying about his own self-righteous desire to either possess her or kill her "in holiness--it brought tears to my eyes.

The movie is about outcasts, about grace, about sacrifice. About justice.

Who is monster, who is man?

Wealth inequality in the US

This is a must-watch to get a basic understanding of wealth inequality in the US. I've not seen this good of a presentation around what we THINK is the reality compared with what we see as IDEAL reality and how they both stack up with what ACTUALLY IS REALITY.

http://youtu.be/QPKKQnijnsM

Wealth inequality in the US

This is a must-watch to get a basic understanding of wealth inequality in the US. I've not seen this good of a presentation around what we THINK is the reality compared with what we see as IDEAL reality and how they both stack up with what ACTUALLY IS REALITY.

http://youtu.be/QPKKQnijnsM

Book Review: Dirty God by Johnnie Moore

Most of the time, I love to be surprised. But I'm not easily surprised by a religious book anymore.

 The book I just finished is a wonderful exception.

Most of the 3.5 faithful readers of my blog will know that I'm a recovering fundamentalist. In my early 20s, my faith was a  somewhat radicalized one, in a judgmental kind of way. Grace was a theological concept to be debated, not a life to be lived and shared.

But what you may not know--what I have only recently realized myself--is that I'm also a recovering anti-fundamentalist.

You see, when I experience fellow followers displaying that same judgmentally immature faith that I had at 20, it frustrates me. It angers me. I hate the man-made barriers we have Pharisaically thrown up between God and the most vulnerable, "sinful" of people. But in my own desire to radicalize grace and oppose fundamentalism, I may have not shared the same grace I have received.

For we all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. All. Me too. But I've gotten away from the point of this post.

As a recovering anti-fundamentalist, the mere mention of Liberty University can raise my hackles. I've got some friends who went there and loved the place. It's probably a wonderful university experience in many ways. But I have a hard time getting past the fundamentalist reputation of Liberty having no liberty or grace. So when I received a copy of Johnnie Moore's "Dirty God" to review from Thomas Nelson, I was actually looking forward to reviewing a book that I probably had some issues with. Boy, was I wrong. This is a great book, and all the more great because it was written by a VP at Liberty. Johnnie (I hope I can call him Johnnie and that's okay, but I really don't know him at all) has written a book about God and grace that is excellent. Moving between his own experiences around the world, his wide reading, and his passion for an abiding grace in his own life, Johnnie makes an excellent case for loving God and especially for loving neighbor.

This book is well worth the time invested in reading. And he wrote an afterword just for me--at least that what it says. He challenges me to not just theologically understand grace, not even just to practice grace, but to be involved in a grace movement that changes me. But not just me, the circle of people around me. And not just them either, but the whole world. I finished this book just now, and needed to write this review immediately, but hopefully I can do just that: be a piece of God's wave of grace splashing and crashing around the world.

To quote the great French/British philosopher Jean-Luc Picard, make it so.

Mean what you say

Sometimes I wonder if people really mean what we say. I've had this thought twice now in the last 24 hours. The most recent example was this morning as I took my daughter to school, and was behind a pickup with a growingly popular bumper sticker in Texas. The sticker looks like the Texas flag with the word "Secede" emblazoned on top. Now, at the risk of outing myself and all Texans as blustery giants who are all talk and no action, let me say that I'm sure there are many Texans ready to back up the bumper sticker with a real vote (and action!). They would be ready to recreate the Republic of Texas in a heartbeat. But, I think, most of us--regardless of how we might feel about the federal government or the president, would see the negative realities of secession long before such a vote could be made. If we think that taxes are bad now, how high would they get if we have to provide for our own common defense, build our own highways, create our own free-trade agreements with surrounding states, patrol our own borders and the like? But I'm not here to argue for or against secession, I just wonder if the guy with the bumper sticker really means what he says. Then yesterday morning in church, we sang a song with these lyrics: "Yahweh, Yahweh, we love to shout your name O Lord." I honestly decided I couldn't sing those words. Because I don't mean them. Forget the fact that my logical brain keeps telling me that we don't really know how to pronounce the tetragrammaton (in Hebrew YHWH, often written in English as "Yahweh"), I'm just not that fond of shouting in general. Shouting names in random moments of worship is frowned upon in our culture, especially in libraries and elevators--don't ask me how I know, those records are sealed. (Okay, so maybe I sing loud in my truck, but that's beside the point here...) So I'm not here to argue against shouting God's name either. Or letting our culture's desire to label religious people as crazy define my behavior. The thought all this prompted in me is that we often say things we don't mean, just for the effect of it. I'm guilty. My guess is you probably are too. And this morning, I pondered the words of Jesus: let your yes be yes, and your no be no. Do I mean what I say? Do my words reflect my character? Are my words and actions in line with each other?

Aim at a Nearby Target

If you're familiar with Birkman as a personal assessment tool, then I'll tell you I'm green normally.

Green is sanguine. Green is the relational people-connector. Green enjoys attention and likes being the guy people want to invite over.

Green is my strength.

But under stress I'm blue. I withdraw, I need alone-time. I don't want to engage people.

I am, what my friend Wesley King once said, a "situational extrovert." Or in my own language, I'm a highly-relational introvert."

So what do you do when you're more blueish than greenish on a given day, working on a given project? I really think Roy Williams, the Wizard of Ads, hit the nail on the head in this post. In a nutshell, he says "aim at a nearby target."

We don't want to do things that feel aimless or pointless, so we end up doing nothing, and melancholy takes over. We spend a day doing nothing. Or a week. Or a lifetime.

But when the aimless, pointless blues creep in, don't try to psych yourself up for some great project you're trying to do. Pick a nearby, doable target; something that needs to be done (Roy's example is cleaning his office), and get it done.

This is one of the great pieces of David Allen's "Getting Things Done" system. If you organize your tasks by the context in which they need to be done (@Office, @Home, @Computer, etc) then you have a mix of tasks that need high energy and focus, but also many that you can do when you feel aimless and pointless. Things that need to be done but don't require a ton of concentration or mental energy. Keep a list of those things, and when the pointless blues arrive, pick one and do it.

You might find yourself better aimed, and more to the point.

Read the entire Roy Williams article here: http://mondaymorningmemo.com/newsletters/read/2023

Non-con doesn't work

The gun control "non-conversation" is turning into another pro-life/abortion rights "non-con." In both cases, each side reduces the issues to bumper-sticker rhetoric, shouts at the other side about "life" or "choice"--or "control" or "freedom"...

All the while we neither reduce the number of abortions nor the amount of people killed by guns. Until both sides are ready to really, actually CONVERSE, then conversation is apparently out of the question. And without conversation, very little meaningful change will happen. Meanwhile people continue to die, both before and after birth.

Is there a way for people who believe the 2nd amendment gives us the right to bear arms to stop talking about "cold dead hands?" Can we stop mongering fear? Can those who believe that government should strongly regulate guns stop talking about rednecks and Freudian psychological issues?

Facebook could be a place for a broad conversation.

Facebook has become a place for dropping rhetorical bombs that get "amens" from those who agree with us and unfriended by those who don't.

The gap between Americans MUST be bridged by someone. Actually I suppose it can only be bridged by a bunch of us. What can we do to have a real American Conversation about life or death issues like this?

What's your symbol?

"A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." John 13.34-35 ESV

The cross is the most recognizable symbol of Christianity. No, it doesn't always represent Jesus, but if it wasn't for Jesus it wouldn't be much of a symbol. It has adorned steeples, shields, hospitals, emergency response organizations, vampire-hunters, necks...

...and at one time, my chest.

Yes, one of those crazy things I did working with youth in my younger days was shaving a cross in my chest-hair. The first time I did it was at Kanakuk in 1987, when I shaved out a cross. Then a few years later I shaved everything BUT a cross. That was really cool.

And yes, I have a picture. I suppose I could post it if you really wanted...

Nearly everyone in world recognizes the cross as a symbol of Christianity. And it's a fitting symbol, what with the sacrifice Jesus made on it on our behalf and everything. He called us to pick one up (symbolically? figuratively? literally?) and follow him.

But if the cross is the greatest symbol of Jesus, then there's a close second. One that I've never seen sold in James Avery, never seen anyone put in their family crest. It's not on the steeples of any church. But it should be.

That symbol? The towel.

In the story I quoted above, Jesus has just washed the disciples' feet. And told them that if he's really their Master then they will do the same (Jn 13.14). And just before they walk out the door and head to the garden, he tells them once more: Listen, I'm about to be gone. We've been together for a couple of years now, and let me just tell you plainly. I've got a new command. Love each other. Love each other with a "wrap a towel around your waist and get your hands dirty" kind of love. Forget status, forget success. Forget position, except to be on your knees washing each others' feet. That kind of love.

If I could just follow that one command...

So when you pick up a towel, think about Jesus. Then think about who you need to love. Who is your "other"? Who has dirty feet around you?

Let's make a towel a symbol of our love.

Gun Control

[Note: I actually wrote this on 1/3/13, and I've had it in my draft folder since then, showing that even now I'm posting this with a little trepidation.]

I've been hesitating from posting on the gun control debate, because I know my position, unlike so many other things I think (he says with snarky tongue firmly planted in cheek) will end up bothering people on both sides of the debate. But perhaps it's a guy like me that needs to say what I think, in hopes that someone out there, anyone, will refuse to take offense and decide that we need thoughtful conversation on all this, not the political cannonballing that has become all too common in our world.

Let me say that my comments are in no way meant to be reflective of an insensitivity to any violence of recent days. I don't want to even pretend I know what it means to be personally affected by extreme violence like that the Sandy Hook incident. I share these thoughts as only my own attempt at formulating a framework for a dialogue around gun control.

1. I believe that the 2nd amendment does guarantee the right for me to own firearms.

2. I have lots of friends and family who own and safely use guns. I also have lots of friends and family who do not own any, and some who believe that no one should. My disagreement with any of them will not permanently rupture our relationship. Relationship trumps political position every time.

3. I think that context matters. It's difficult to overestimate the difference between urban, suburban and rural realities when it come to guns.

4. I think that there is a place for gun regulation. Yikes! I winced a little myself as I wrote that. But it's true. Before anyone (metaphorically of course) shoots my thought down, here's what I mean: nearly every one of us believes that weapons should have some regulation. And in case you want to argue otherwise, I'm going to ask this question: should we regulate who gets access to a nuclear weapon? Of course we should. I can't imagine a gun show or pawn shop offering a nuke to someone willing to pay for it. That example, albeit almost absurdly extreme (I say "almost" because there's probably someone out there who believes they could be a responsible owner of a nuclear missile), makes the point that some level of gun regulation can and should be discussed in our free, constitutional society.

5. Knee-jerk reactions on either side don't help the discussion. Neither do anecdotal stories that spin for one side or the other.

6. Brokenness is a reality we must discuss in all of this. I'm a fan of Jon Stewart, but he was dead wrong on this issue when he mocked Mike Huckabee's use of the word "sin" in describing the problem with violence in our society. Yes, we believers have too often allowed our words about sin to focus on sexuality, but the truth is that sin really is the brokenness of people who are not what they were created to be. We must have solutions that deal with this brokenness, and we must understand that apart from the radical grace of God the brokenness will continue to overwhelm even the best of us in one way or another.

7. Finally, let me say that I myself am conflicted about what I believe to be on the one hand a constitutionally granted right and on the other what best reflects the nature and character of Jesus of Nazareth. Others (including my friends Keith Giles and Terry Austin) have posted better blogs than mine about this, but it's fair to say that I both find enjoyment in the collection and discussion of firearms, and wonder what Jesus would or wouldn't enjoy about them. And I certainly hope that my heart is broken over sinful violence, just like I know his is.

I guess what I do know is this: It's time for us to find the places where we can come together on this, and not focus entirely on our disagreements.

2013 Goals

I think Jon Acuff is on to something here.

http://www.jonacuff.com/blog/why-i-quit-new-years-resolutions-and-what-im-doing-instead/