Bill Martin's Personal Ramblings

Someone (Worth?) Dying For

2011-08-09T14:47:00.005-04:00

Worth Playing?

As MIKESCHAIR releases their second full-length Curb Records CD, A Beautiful Life (8/23/11), there has been no small amount of chatter over the first single, "Someone Worth Dying For."

As this post is being written, the song sits in the top 20 on the monitored Christian A/C chart. Many of the strongest Christian radio stations in the country have added the song, but a few haven't. And their reasoning intrigues me: it's the song's theology. The problem seems to be in the word "Worth" in the title and chorus.

Stay with me for a little theology-breakdown.

Man-Centered or God-Centered?

If you had told me a decade ago that Christian radio stations might actually consider evaluating a song theologically and holding it off because it reflects a man-centered view of salvation, I would have sneered in disbelief. In fact, for at least the last 15 of my 25 years in this industry, I've been praying for artists, producers, labels, radio music directors and program directors to become more theologically aware and God-centered in the way they make, evaluate, and disseminate the music we all hear.

So, I love the fact that my peers are concerned that "Someone Worth Dying For" grounds God's saving grace on the intrinsic worth of humanity, as if God experienced cognitive dissonance, unable to bear the consequences of His own judgment on us--as if that motivated the cross OR that the song reinforces a therapeutic gospel: that Jesus died to fix our tarnished self-image. If only we could see ourselves the way He sees us! I love that some people don't want to play or listen to any song that misrepresents the character of God, the nature of human depravity and the sovereign grace of the atonement. But.

The problem is, they picked the wrong song to fight this battle.

Careless Exegesis

I hate to say it, but it's the age-old problem of careless exegesis: you read the title and think you know the message of the song. To break it down, the phrase "someone worth dying for" occurs in the chorus, just after these lines:

. . . I wanna believe,
Jesus, help me believe that
I am someone worth dying for

a simple prayer from someone who senses their innate unworthiness. Of course, the felt-need in the song is not a theological unworthiness (compared to the holiness and perfection of God) as it would (should) be in a sermon; it's an existential unworthiness, a feeling that, compared to everyone else, I don't measure up:

Am I more than flesh and bone?
Am I really something beautiful?. . .

The soul-vacuum the chorus expresses is clearly man-centered, but that same soul is brought immediately into a theological context:

. . . Yeah, I wanna believe, I wanna believe that
I'm not just some wandering soul
That you don't see and you don't know. . .

so that the soul's real problem is estrangement from God. That estrangement is recognized in the dramatic circumstance of the song and clearly emerges as the song's major theological theme. All of this is just the DNA of the chorus.

The Anatomy of Verses

As for the opening verse, the voice (narrator) paints a series of postage-stamp portraits of broken people: the wife waiting up at night / the man struggling to provide / the son who chose a broken road / the girl thinking (she)'ll end up alone. Each of these dramatic situations anticipates a response of the listeners in a popular audience, for whom the song is intended. Just like a trained preacher, the song studies its audience as well as its subject. And it directs all who have just been called out to a simple petition: God, can you hear me? / Oh God, are you listening?

I remember my own experience of coming to faith in Jesus Christ: one of the biggest transformations of my life happened when I realized that God knows my name! This is consistent with God's meticulous providence--his care of his creation and creatures, the sparrows, which are known and cared for by God, and which are used by Jesus as an illustration of the superior worth of men and women made in God's image:

Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows (Luke 12:5-7).

"Someone Worth Dying For," I contend, expresses a theology of human worth in this sense, NOT as a motivation for God's initiating the plan of salvation or saving any individual, a great salvation which is sola Gratia (by grace alone):

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast (Ephesians 2:8-9).

Crossing the Bridge

Nowhere in this song is salvation merited by human work or intrinsic worthiness. Witness the bridge, a key point in popular song construction which often expresses a new point or reinforces the main theme:

You're worth it, you can't earn it
Yeah, the cross has proven
That you're sacred and blameless
Your life has purpose

The affirmation of self-worth in "Someone Worth Dying For" is, I conclude, Christological, not anthropological (Christ-centered, not man-centered). And in case someone wants to be more exact, let me remind you this is poetry, not a sermon. Again, the dramatic circumstance of the poetry expresses the felt-needs of the intended audience, but it doesn't end there. Those needs are immediately brought into a theological, Christ-centered context where the riches of God's grace are presented as the answer to estrangement from God together with its fruits: self-alienation, self-hatred, and self-centered love (narcissism).

Just one more point. It is unfair to evaluate a product of composition in isolation from its context, whether it be the assumed meaning of a verse isolated from its inner and inter-textual setting or the supposed intention of a lyric isolated from the surrounding songs and the corpus of one's work. The songs immediately preceding and following "Someone Worth Dying For," which are "Save Me Now" and "You Loved Me First" clearly demonstrate the authorial intention of "Someone Worth Dying For." Clearly the author has the intent of "preaching" the Good News through this song.

A Reason To Sing

And that's what has me exercised that some are keeping the song off their stations or making careless comments on iTunes. Not because I don't agree with their theology, but their exegesis. In our efforts to reform Christian pop music, let's be careful to read the genre right (poetry, not sermon, essay or systematic theology) and put the themes, allusions, illustrations and metaphors in the right context.

If we need an example of truly man-centered theology in popular Christian music (including worship songs), unfortunately we don't have to look very far. Fortunately for MIKESCHAIR, they aren't on that list.

From Disaster to Hope: A Personal Perspective

2011-03-17T18:57:00.000-04:00

I’m not sure the date March 11, 2011 will emblazon itself on my memory like December 26, 2004. On both days, the earth shook, the deep awakened and swept thousands away. Both days can be quantified by earthquakes measuring nine-point-something on the Richter scale. Both quakes and resulting tsunamis set records in the number of deaths and did damage into the billions of dollars. But unlike the recent Sendai earthquake off the coast of Japan, I wound up in the middle of the recovery effort, thanks in large part to the folks I serve in The JOY FM community. Unlike this recent disaster, I can look back in wonder on what God did six years ago to bring glory and good out of tragedy.

A Tsunami of Support

On a cool January morning in 2005, I went on the air with my team, linked with other stations in our small, southeastern network, trying to raise $75,000 to build about a village-worth of permanent homes in South India, the third-hardest hit area of the 2004 Indian Ocean Tsunami. We announced the rebuilding effort as the result of having a local church contact within India who had connections on the coast to move in and rebuild small homes for families who lost everything. Pastor Paul had no idea, nor did we, that the small effort to rebuild a village was going to suddenly become a massive initiative to lead the country in restoration, setting the pace for government projects in several devastated areas.

By the time we got off the air, just after 10:00 a.m., we had received gifts and pledges totaling $720,000 – nearly ten times what we were asking! By the end of the day, the total was $1,000,000. I got to deliver “the check” personally, due to a previously-arranged trip to India. I presented it (symbolically) to Pastor Paul on the very beach where 60 families had just buried their loved ones. Initially, our presence there was suspect to the locals. Now, having returned five years later to see 650 permanent homes, I have been greeted with open arms.

A God-Thing?

To say “it was a God-thing” is almost profane. The sacred orchestration of so many pieces coming together in just the right way so that a legacy of Christian love and Gospel-giving (the Good News of Jesus’ redeeming love made tangible in bricks and sweat) is a holy witness to God’s good providence and His determination to “so love” the world (John 3:16). As one listener put it: “We wanted to rebuild a village, but God wanted to build a city!” Actually, He is building his kingdom there through the ongoing missionary efforts of many connected with the areas in which we have built “Homes of Hope.”

I don’t know what God is doing or what He will do in Japan. But I know this: a tragedy of any size—personal to global—is an opportunity to see the goodness of God in action. We can all do something that eases pain, feeds hunger, shares hope and saves a life.

To give to relief efforts in Japan, visit the dedicated JOY FM page: http://www.thejoyfm.com/headline/japanese-earthquake

To see videos from Bill’s trip back to India, visit the blog site: http://bricksandsweat.wordpress.com/

The Eschatology of Leaving Eden

2011-01-19T16:33:00.014-05:00

Yes, it was schtick.

But it was serious schtick. And since we had to move on quickly, I thought an explanation was fitting. Oh, in case you weren't there, Tuesday we tracked through Brandon Heath's new record, Leaving Eden, with the artist in our studio, revealing our favorite songs, sharing our enthusiastic perspectives on them, looking for any opportunity to get a rise out of Brandon or the audience.

My first favorite was the title cut. So was Carmen's. We decided to arm-wrestle for it on the air, she emoting her straightforward enjoyment of the "Oh" moments surrounding the bridge (literal lyrical "Ohs," a detail that would fly past most of us; not Carmen), I emitting my professorial perspective on the theological dimensions of the text. I think I said something like:

Brandon, I love how each scenario in the lyrics paints a picture of the eschatalogical tension that characterizes the Christian life, the tension between the now and the not-yet, and further, how the thrust of the song as a whole points toward the eschatalogical fulfillment of Eden as the New Heavens and the New Earth under the metaphor of "going home."

Well, I probably wasn't as clear as that, since Carmen was snorting, Dave was crying foul after the first use of the word "eschatalogical," and Brandon was thinking "I could have been anywhere today..." And, despite the fact that it's believable patter for me, the verbosity and pomposity were schtick, shooting for shock-value, which I seemed to squarely hit, judging by the reactions of my partners. But underlying my pompous performance, I was entirely serious. Let me get past the radio stuff to unpack what I said and why. We should start with Brandon's lyrics. Here's verse two and the chorus:

People are losing their homes to hurricanes
Old lady living next door forgot her own name
Teacher is hiding her Bible, but at least she's got a job
My local Salvation Army just got robbed

Feels like I'm leaving Eden
Feels like I'm leaving Eden
It's like I'm further away with every step I take
And I can't go back
‘Cause I'm leaving Eden

I'm going, going home

Let me speak plainly: I love this song! I think the music is great, Brandon delivers it with passion, and I even like the little "Ohs" that Carmen pointed out. But even more of my affection is reserved for what the song (secondarily) teaches.

Now, I know Brandon didn't sit down and say, "I want to write a song that teaches so-and-so," but still, the song comes from a perspective that is rich with insight into the Christian life. "Leaving Eden" is full of snapshots that portray life in a fallen world, broken, on the other side of the Garden: waving to a stranger who doesn't wave back, natural disasters, loved ones with Alzheimer's, a culture hostile to faith. This is the world in which we live. And like the best biblical wisdom literature, the song doesn't try to "fix" those dimensions of fallenness with a simple platitude or principle. Instead it portrays a God-given tension, the in-between state in which every Christian is called to live and walk by faith.

That in-betweeness is what I have in mind when I talk about "eschatalogical tension." Eschatology is the study of last things, things like the apocalypse, judgment day, the new heaven and new earth, etc. When Jesus showed up, the disciples all thought that's what He was there to bring. "The kingdom of heaven is at hand," he said! This is it! Rome will be overthrown. The righteous will be vindicated. Everything is going to be set right. Uhh... not exactly.

The kingdom of heaven, and thus the Christian life, is like a... well, it's like a pregnant woman, or like a baby growing to a mature man, or, better yet, it's like Jesus taught: like a man who planted good seeds in his field and then had to wait for the harvest. That's the Christian life. We are, as Luther said, like the crucified Jesus between Friday and Sunday, feet suspended between heaven and earth, already heirs of eternal life but having to go through the cross to get there. That's what the song portrays.

Even the little bridge-thing that uses "home" as a picture of fulfilled eschatalogical expectation serves to reinforce the present tension of living in the in-between! And then, the shameless reference to Dorothy clicking her heels together ("There's no place / no place like home"). Well, it's a ready allusion, wouldn't you say? Aren't we all hoping to find a way back home that will undo the effects of the whirlwind and put things right? That universal longing is what the song evokes for me.

We need more Christian songs like this, songs that draw out the longing for heaven, for ultimate fulfillment, yet leave us in the tension; songs that refuse to take us by some desperate construction down the yellow brick road only to find some poser behind a curtain. We need songs that reinforce the reality of the Christian life and encourage us to face the realities of the historical, biblical fall and its consequences.

Some folks who know the Christian music audience well would say "Leaving Eden" is not a good song for radio, because the message may be too figurative, and the "solution" to our problem is not presented clearly enough in the four minutes and four seconds of space the song fills with its images of brokenness and alienation. I disagree.

The hope is in acknowledging our problem, recognizing its source, or as Brandon discussed with his counselor, "grieving Eden," an idea that became the seed of the song and the record's title. When we get to the source of our pain we are driven to the answer. That's how the law of Moses leads us to Christ, serving as our tutor, pointing to its own origin and end. Eden is the genesis of repentance: when we finally acknowledge that we are by nature children of wrath, and the deepest source of our problem isn't our genetics, our environment or our lack of self-esteem, we can break free from the chains that hold us bound to sin, the fall and its consequences. But not fully. Not yet.

"Home" in the song is a picture of eschatalogical fulfillment. It's the place where everything Jesus came to start, to inaugurate, will be complete, finally finding its (and our) Divine Design. Did you ever notice that the Bible begins with creation and ends in a new creation? It begins in a garden and ends in a city, the New Jerusalem, the fully populated city of the redeemed. All that was broken will be whole again, and better. We who trust in Christ will be there, every tear wiped away, relationships healed, no guilt, no hiding. "Leaving Eden" points us to that fulfillment.

As Brandon says, "I can't go back," but that's okay. We don't want or need to go back to the Garden. Home, for the Christ-follower, is through Christ, following him in the daily-death of the cross (which gives context to our suffering) into his kingdom and ultimately to the fullness of the harvest, the banquet feast, the consummated marriage, the reason for leaving Eden; our the ultimate salvation and end.

To hear the entire conversation with Brandon, click the link below:
http://www.thejoyfm.com/asheard/2011-01-18

To America: Learn to Argue

2011-01-12T11:38:00.007-05:00

Just the other day, we had an argument, Carmen, Dave, Kris and I – a loudvoiced, passion-pushing barnburner. It was in McDonald’s. At one point Dave was defending his position at a loud volume, loud enough to embarrass Carmen and Kris. That was my favorite part (because every other time, it’s Carmen snorting until the kitchen has to ask if there are any loose swine they missed for the pork sandwich special ). Dave made his points forcefully and defended them well. I was on the offensive, drawn out by Carmen’s challenge to state my position on an issue, tackling a subject we have touched before but left on the surface, like an onion waiting to be peeled so its potency can be felt.

What were we arguing about? It doesn’t matter. The point is that we each had a different take, we deeply believed we were right (but not so much we can’t learn) and we never came to full agreement. And we were in the studio the next day, on the show, interacting personally as if it never happened, only with a deep respect for the complexity of each individual and a deeper praise to Jesus for choosing to bring us together as a team and as beloved brothers and sister. I think our country could learn something from our argument.

The political posturing and power plays that followed the tragic shooting in Arizona that left six people dead and thirteen wounded, including Rep. Gabrielle Giffords, is a sign that we-the-people no longer know how to argue. Let me offer a few principles that apply to argumentation in general in the hopes that they will add a sprinkle of sanity to our public discourse:

The principle of fairness – You can’t have a good argument if you are only interested in besting your opponent, no matter who gets slaughtered along the way. A decent argument begins by refusing to caricature your opponent’s position, by granting him or her an interpretation that tries to make sense of the position they are stating. To do this, you should practice re-stating your opponent’s position in a way he or she would agree with: “Yes, that’s what I am saying.”
The principles of sound reasoning – Good arguments can’t be built on passion or rhetoric (verbal flare), so we have to guard against arguments that make points based on:

a. The threat of force – If we feel strongly, we may express ourselves loudly or in a physically demonstrative way; that is fine, but taking advantage of an opponent by trying to dominate him or her with your voice or body is unfair and unreasonable. (Dave didn't violate this!)
b. The popularity of the position – It’s easy to take a stand on the majority position, which is why it was so hard for Christians to stand against the Holocaust in Germany. A position is right if it’s right, regardless of how many people think otherwise.
c. The popularity of the speaker – If this were the basis for making a reasoned argument, Carmen would win every time. She doesn’t (always). Who makes the argument has little to do with how sound the argument is, unless that person is an authority on the subject. Even then, his or her popularity doesn’t make the case.
The principle of arguing for truth, not victory – Jesus argued with the Pharisees. Paul argued with the philosophers in Athens. Arguments are good and godly, provided they are battles waged to bring BOTH you and your opponent closer to the truth rather than blitzkriegs designed for total destruction, where only you are left standing. Whatever I feel about Dave’s position, a perspective he and Carmen share on the issue we attacked, I learned a lot about the strengths and weakness of my own position, and I was driven back to my need to be able to articulate and defend why I believe what I do.

With these principles in place, individuals and groups (like Democrats and Republicans, for example) can argue loudly and forcefully, passionately disagreeing, and we will all come out the victors with the country still intact.

In terms of democracy, the worst thing that can come from the Arizona shooting is a new “politically correct” carefulness (read: censorship) rather than vigorous, even passionate public debate. I do find that very few politicians, entertainers or media commentators take the time or make the effort to argue fairly, reasonably and truthfully. Most are Machiavellian, preferring power to the pursuit of pure, precise propositions. And I don’t really think this blog post will change anything; still, I know things can change. I saw a living example in the argument my team and I had just the other day.

The New Covenant in the Old Testament

2011-01-02T22:07:00.003-05:00

I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring; he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel.

(Genesis 3:15)

I don't plan to keep doing daily entries as we in "The JOY FM" group read together, but it seemed important to follow up on a claim I made yesterday about the importance of reading the Old Testament. The Hebrew Scriptures, particularly the books of Moses (Genesis-Deuteronomy) stand in relation to the New Testament as that of roots to a tree. The flowering of Gospel promises in Christ is germinated from the seed and soil of God's acting and speaking, from Genesis 1:1 onward.

In the specific verse mentioned, Genesis 3:15, we have the Gospel in seed-form, promised by the same "voice" that spoke the universe into existence out of nothing. The promise was fulfilled in Christ's death ("bruise his heel") in which death itself was permanently robbed of it's sting ("bruise your head"). There is a sense in which the entire history of redemption is a working out of this promise.

But there is a larger structure of biblical dynamics revealed in this chapter: God, the Creator and Sustainer of life, seeks relationship with humanity even after the fall. The prohibition of humans from forbidden fruit is a clue that the basic contour of that relationship is a grace-based covenant of works. Immediately following our fall, God pursued a redemptive relationship, requiring animal sacrifice as a substitute death for treasonous Adam, offering promises and threatening punishments, providing a way for sinners to be redeemed by another Substitute's saving work on our behalf.

Our part in that gracious, redemptive relationship would be simply to respond in faith to the gracious, promise-keeping God, looking for the One who was progressively revealed as Savior.

We who are in Christ live in the fulfillment of this "Covenant of Grace," ratified by the death of Jesus, enacted by his resurrection and ascension, applied and administrated as the New Covenant by the Holy Spirit. Here is the foundation of our salvation and the relationship we have with God, right here in the opening chapters of Genesis.

(Note: Look at yesterday's post for info on "The JOY FM" Bible reading group.)

New Bible Reading Group

2011-01-01T12:10:00.007-05:00

For some time, I've been asked to do something along the lines of a daily devotional, possibly leading folks through the Bible in a year. I'm afraid I'm not up to either.

But, this year I'm trying something based on those ideas that combines both and doesn't require perfection of any of us. I've set up a YouVersion group called "The JOY FM." YouVersion is an online Bible resource with lots of English translations (I use the ESV, but recommend the NLT to those who struggle with formal-feeling language), audio Bibles, reading plans and apps for your droid, iPhone, and more.

The plan is to get a group of JOY FM listeners reading together, encouraging one another, establishing a daily Bible reading and devotion habit that doesn't require "perfect attendance." We won't be checking up, catching up or even trying to read every verse of every book in the Bible. In fact, I've chosen a Bible reading plan developed by the Life Journal folks for "youth and new believers." Hey, I'm a theology instructor with a Master's degree, but this plan is not beneath me. If I stick to it, I'll improve my own daily habit.

Why not get set up on YouVersion and join our group? Set up a free account, get a reading plan, join the group, give yourself permission to not try to impress God or others with "perfection," then start a new habit!

Here are some links:

YouVersion - http://www.youversion.com/
The JOY FM Group - http://www.youversion.com/groups/thejoyfm
The First Steps Reading Plan - http://www.youversion.com/reading-plans/first-steps-reading-plan/settings
My Profile and Notes - http://www.youversion.com/users/Goodmorningbill

We plan to set up a page at TheJOYFM.com to integrate this, and we also plan to include some of our on-air, 6:40 a.m. devotions as well.

Let me know if this is something you'd like to do.

Audrey and Dana On Words

2010-09-25T18:54:00.002-04:00

(A re-post of Audrey Assad's blog, "A brief word on words.")

Audrey Assad is as fine an artist with words as with her piano and a vocal score. I found this post from her and thought I’d combine it with the Trinity Forum post on Dana Gioia to make an important statement on a neglected subject. Language, including poetry, has fallen into disrepute and disrespect, out of favor with pragmatism because “mere” words have no cash value; reputation-ruined by postmodern skepticism, its smirking accusations of a text as a veil for power play. Language has also been assaulted, in my opinion, by the “clarity” requirements of modern prose which rob us of the best words in the brightest settings. If I have one wish for the rest of my vocational life, it is that God would give me the time, leisure, talent and support to write and, however possible, redeem language.

Audrey’s blog follows. First, here is a link to the Trinity Forum article on Dana Gioia, a Christian academic and poet, former head of the National Endowment for the Arts: http://www.ttf.org/index/update/september-2010-2/

The article in the Atlantic is well worth the read.

—— — - — - — - — - — -

audreyassad:

“Here is the One that I worship;
The Word, who wordless me leaves.
‘Tis in this bright Light that I linger;
A Light that shadowless be.
And I cannot serve another,
For it is I that belongs to He;
He, the One that I worship;
The Word, who wordless me leaves.”

I wrote this on a flight home today, thinking of poetry and song, and how lackluster our language is fast becoming. To this lover of literature, the manners of modernity seem monochrome, even in art. It is truly tragic.

John 1:1-5 says “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was God, and the Word was with God; He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.”

I would posit that, if one of Christ’s titles be “Word” — then little words are lent some echo of His dignity, His heraldic solemnity, His creativity. They, and language, which makes use of them, are of grave importance. If we do not steward them faithfully, we will lose sight of the heaven-opening, earth-shaking significance of Christ’s title of “Word”.

God spoke Himself to us.

My poetry is poor indeed; however, I can laurel it with this one small crown, that I care about the words themselves. These little garlands of letter and ink, these clusters of curves and lines, these tightly-knit trusses are my dear old friends, and I am compelled to treat them as such. Far be it from me to deny a word its dignity.

I may not have technique, or even style; but truthfully, I love words. And so, I write,

“Let us wreathe our words
Let us cloak them in courtliness
Let us weave them with cobalt and emerald and scarlet
Let them no longer languish and linger in common dress
No, let us garland our words
Let us garb them in golden thread.”

Seven Lessons of September Eleventh

2010-09-11T10:21:00.000-04:00

Note: This is a re-post from 9/11/08

Everybody has their own memories of the infamous events of September 11, 2001. I was working alone in my office when Kimberly called to make me aware that “something bad has happened in New York City.” She told me the media were reporting that a light plane had accidentally crashed into the World Trade Center, and it was on fire. I was concerned, but not yet alarmed.

Minutes later on the radio I heard what had actually taken place – that the strike on the World Trade Center was deliberate and coordinated with other targeted strikes that same morning. It wasn’t until I got home later that I watched the overplayed video loop where the second passenger jet, under control of an Al Qaeda cell, struck the south tower. Shortly after, both majestic towers were reduced to lower Manhattan rubble. I found myself in shock. I didn’t think it would or even could happen. None of us did.

What have we learned in the seven years since we, as a nation, were violated by the savagery of a few phantoms, whose shadowy presence remains despite efforts to erase them? I offer these seven lessons, which are really reflection-points to consider:

First, we learned that we as a nation were vulnerable. Americans’ retained sense of isolation from the problems of the world – an attitude of naivety many non-Americans consider arrogance – was shattered on September 11, 2001. We hadn’t been significantly attacked on our own soil since Pearl Harbor. Terrorism happens overseas! To many of us, it seemed like the end of the world was at hand when we saw the collapse of those towers.

Second, we learned we were strong. Almost legendary recounting of individual acts of heroism filled our collective consciousness. The “Let’s roll” spirit underscored our immediate response to the tragedy. Volunteerism resurged, as local police and other emergency workers took a leave of absence and traveled to New York City to participate in rescue, relief and cleanup.

Third, we learned we have both enemies and friends in this world. I’ll never forget the images of the candlelight vigil in London, attended by grief and tears. Other nations mourned with us. Nor will the images of burning flags or effigies of George W. Bush be easily washed away. Since September 11, 2001 the clarity of the line between friend and foe has been smeared by politics. Our military responses have been questioned, perhaps not without warrant. Yet many have lost sight of the fact that the first 2,975 casualties of the “war on terror” happened before any response could be made.

Fourth, we learned something about Islam. We learned that, like any major world religion, Islam is not monolithic. There is variety within Islam and in Muslim cultures. There are “denominations” and factions which collide, sometimes violently. We learned that not all Muslims are terrorists, rather that extremists would dominate Islam as well as the world, if allowed.

Fifth, we remembered what it was like to be at war again. The 1991 action of “Operation Desert Storm” played out like a reality based video game in the consciousness of many Americans. Real losses were minimal. By contrast, the “war on terror” has reminded us we can field a strong army without a draft. The thousands of volunteers starkly contrasts the hundreds of protesters who will neither fight nor support our national response. I suppose it has been so in every war since the Revolution. Free speech is, after all, distinctively American. Both sides in the counterpoint have reminded us that war costs a lot, and we had better be willing to pay the price than to enter the fray with anything less than 100% commitment and resolve.

Sixth, we just learned in a new poll that many outside the United States do not know who was responsible for the attacks. Conspiracy theories, prejudices and plain ignorance are behind the 54% who responded that the U.S. government, Israel, or “other” were behind the attacks.

Finally, we were graphically reminded that we as a nation are utterly dependent on the grace and favor of God for our very existence. We are contingent. Our walls are not impenetrable. Therefore, we must cultivate faithfulness and justice toward the vision and values that make us great, one of which is humility in knowing that “there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God” (Romans 13:1). We need to bow our knees, individually and as a nation, and ask God to help us do what is right in His eyes, to govern justly and to seek peace on earth for the benefit of all.

Aunt Judy's Chicken Pilau

2010-07-19T21:48:00.005-04:00

UPDATE: I FINALLY POSTED THE RECIPE BELOW!

Growing up in the south doesn't guarantee you'll grow up a Southerner, especially in Florida. I was born here, but reared on the gulfcoast, a blend of northeastern and midwestern culture. But my dad's family were reared in the Florida heartland, Southerners one and all. Aunt Judy was a beautiful southern lady whose cooking, it was said, could heal the sick. (Hyperbole is part of southern culture.) If you'd ever had Aunt Judy's lemon pound cake or her fried veggies, you might think you were healed, even as the cholesterol numbers rose.

But the dish I knew Aunt Judy best by was her chicken pilau. Peppery and soothing, the dish was a contradiction of flavors and effects. I loved it when dad imitated it, but pined for Aunt Judy's version, which I would beg for whenever we planned a visit to her home near Ocala.

Thankfully, she shared the recipe, at least how she remembered it, in a church cookbook before she passed from this life. So you can imagine how surprised I was when, seeking the correct spelling and pronunciation of "pilau," I googled it and found out it's not southern at all! In fact, the word is Persian in origin! It's been shifted and changed in several ways, as has the dish, which is essentially chicken and rice prepared in the stock, depending on the culture: African, Thai, Chinese, etc.

Here's a link to the meaning of "pilau."
Here's a sample of the way it can be prepared in different cultures.
Here's a great-sounding African version.

I have approximated Aunt Judy's version several times, including twice during my recent time-off from The JOY FM. Kids love it, with our without cheese. (I prefer without.) You can make a big pot of it and stretch it over several meals, but of course, because it's chicken, you don't want to hang on to it too long. Don't worry, it will likely disappear.

(As soon as I can put my hands on it, I'll print Aunt Judy's recipe below. No internet links for this one. Check back in a day!)

HA! IT'S BEEN HALF A YEAR, BUT HERE IT IS:

2 large fryers (3-4 lb)
3 cups rice, washed until water is clear
2 large cans Swanson chicken broth
1/2 to 1 cup cheddar cheese
black pepper

Cook chicken in broth until very tender (about 2 hrs). Remove from broth, de-bone, discard skin (some skin remaining is optional). Strain broth. Measure 6 cups of warm broth and add the rice to it. Cook rice and simmer a while. When rice is cooked, add chicken, lifting rice carefully to avoid mushiness. Add more broth if too dry. Grate 1/2 cup (1 cup if desired) cheddar cheese. Add to pilau with fork. Add black pepper to taste.

Serve with sweet gherkins if desired.

Note: some of this is improvised. Play with the ratios a bit until you get it tasting the way you want it to. I doubt Aunt Judy ever made it the same way twice.

What I Did on Summer Vacation

2010-07-18T23:27:00.006-04:00

I want to make the last two weeks seem like a real summer break. At this point, the best way to do that is to make Monday, the first day back at work, seem like the first day back at school. I think middle school was the last time I actually had a written assignment to share my summer vacation with everyone. In that spirit then, here's my first-day-back essay:

"What I Did on Summer Vacation"
by Bill Martin

For my summer vacation, I went... (no, strike that. I didn't go anywhere.) I slept in. The reason I slept in is because I stayed up late. Really late. Like an hour-before-I-usually-get-up late. This began almost immediately, proving that a morning radio personality schedule is an utterly artificial thing to me. After more than two decades, my native body clock has not changed.

Another thing I did on my summer vacation was to make a chore list. I made this list at the beginning, so I'd have a maximum amount of time to work on the projects I identified as needing done. I referred to that chore list several times during the first week (before I lost it) so I could refresh my memory of all the things that needed to be done around the house. Now, I need a new chore list, with the first item reading, "Find chore list." I did, however, think about the chore list several times.

I changed several light bulbs.

The second week of vacation, I got much more productive. I continued to think about my chore list and wrote a poem about it. In fact, I wrote several poems, read several poems, submitted several assignments to an online poetry class, listened to lectures from a Yale University course on modernist poets, won a couple of poetry contests, wrote an essay on the implications of the loss of logocentric assumptions in Western culture, worked on prose style and cumulative syntax, downloaded two online courses on the book of Ezekiel, began a study of that book, outlined a class on How to Be Spiritual in the 21st Century, outlined another series of lectures and began an explication of George Herbert's "Redemption," read William Carlos Williams poems to my two youngest boys, wrote two weeks of daily devotions for the three youngest boys, listened to a series on Mere Christianity, and bought a new book on literature from the Goodwill bookstore.

I dropped off several loads of toys, clothes, and household furnishings to Goodwill. That was my excuse to get into the bookstore.

I mowed my lawn.

(Mostly.) I broke my weedeater.

I played in an old guy vs young guy softball game. The old guys won. I'm not saying which team I was on.

I wasn't sore the next day, unlike most of my teammates.

I cheered for Adam and his AllStar team as they finished third in the county cup. Adam started at third base in every game and finished up strong at the plate, hitting a home run over the center field fence in the last game they played. I got critiqued by my wife for the way I talk about baseball.

I threw batting practice for Grady.

I went to a show that Will's band played. I picked up my daughter, Madison, from her youth camp. I watched shows and movies with Adam, Grady and Payton. I cooked lots of yummy chicken pilau (a family recipe). I never found out what "pilau" means.

I drank tea.

I played Bananagrams. Lots of Bananagrams. Lots.

I finally beat Kimberly. At least that's how I remember it.

I didn't get into arguments with my wife. Except maybe about a word (or two) she (may have) used in Bananagrams that isn't actually in any English language dictionary.

That's pretty much my summer vacation. I'm sure I've left some important stuff out, but after all, it's the first day of school and I don't want to spill it all on the first assignment.

A Reconciliation (of sorts)

2010-07-18T12:13:00.005-04:00

Dear Blog,

You and I have not been on speaking terms for a while now. When I saw you sign me out of my primary Google account every time I wanted to post here, I felt frustrated. I tried to reconcile the two of you, my primary account and yours, but that failed attempt only increased my feelings of frustration. I concluded that this relationship couldn't go on. I moved on in my heart to another blog. I'm hoping you'll forgive me and we can make this right.

You see, regardless of how much I have complained and tried to fix the un-fixable, you are still my blog. We have a lot of history. We've built some fine things together and made lots of friends. For these reasons I want to reaffirm that I am still committed to you. I have made peace in my mind with the difficulties this relationship presents. I am willing to allow you to sign me out of my primary Google account every time we talk. I have re-formatted your pages, updated your links, and I'm ready to go.

If you agree that this is best, I'll soon be making my first post: "What I Did on My Summer Vacation."

In hope of full reconciliation and a long-standing relationship.

Sincerely,
Bill

Why We Ask (Bill's Take on Share-a-thon)

2009-10-01T18:08:00.017-04:00

If you knew how much each of us doesn’t like raising money, you’d know what a miracle it is that we love Share-a-thon.

Share-a-thon (or “Sharathon” – there is no official spelling) is the on-air fundraising event that supplies support for The JOY FM, the listener-supported radio station where I work. Of course, it’s nice to have a salary. But if turning our show into a giant cash register for a week were only to pay our salaries and keep the lights on, I couldn’t do it. None of us could. Honestly.

We’ve all seen grinning televangelists whose emotional and overblown appeals only heighten their incredulous promises of leveraged miracles to those who give “sacrificially” (wheeling and dealing God’s grace: the more money, the bigger the miracle). We vomit in their general direction.

And while we’ve tried to avoid the association, we do get lumped-in with the charlatans from time to time. Still, we have to raise the money to operate. And radio ain’t cheap. It takes around 3.5 million dollars a year to run this place. We cover three media markets, or (as the car drives) over 200 miles north-to-south in Florida. The JOY FM is actually five separate FM stations with numerous, low-power “translators” that fill in the gaps. And we aren’t licensed by the FCC to sell any commercials.

Dave and Carmen (who have both been in commercial radio) regularly celebrate their freedom from playing to an advertiser and from skirmishes between the sales and programming departments. Non-commercial, listener supported radio is accountable to our listeners, not advertisers. A sense of shared ownership accompanies each gift of support. Besides, each supporter’s gift is an investment of trust.

We will never get over the fact that people voluntarily support the station. What? People willingly part with some of their money… because we ask them for it? It makes no sense! It shouldn’t work. It wouldn’t work unless there were something more to it than you can get from purchasing music on iTunes. JOY FM supporters are not consumers. They are partners in the truest sense of that word with the mission of The JOY FM. When they give a financial gift, they are investing in a relationship that becomes more valuable over time, yielding its profits in intangible benefits to themselves, the community and God’s kingdom.

Benefits become tangible in efforts like 20 Wishes, T-shirts for Turkeys, feeding the homeless, shoes for orphans, Homes of Hope for India, The Summer Cruise, and live broadcasts from your favorite artists' kitchen tables. These special programs and humanitarian outreaches are realized through The JOY FM community, not just through the on-air personalities. Community support engenders trust and enthusiasm from others, resulting in partnerships with record labels, artists, businesses and individuals who buy-in to the vision of our using our strength for service.

The bigger picture of the matrix of relationships that form The JOY FM community reveals the unquantifiable effects of daily encouragement, life-support and spiritual transformation. (We could tell stories…)

So, it seems to me when we ask for money, we’re really not asking for ourselves. It’s not the consumer cost-value equation. It’s a partnership to enable imitation of the life of Christ and instantiation of the Gospel. That’s why we ask. In the middle of a large support-drive for a mission to Jerusalem churches, Paul anchored his appeal in the giving-grace of the Gospel:

For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich. (2 Cor. 8:9)

Giving is a grace – an enablement by God made possible by the poverty of His Son. When we learn how to give, we experience the riches of God’s grace in Christ. That’s why we stress the blessing of God during these Share-a-thon appeals. It’s real.

That’s why we ask.

How Christlike I am Not

2009-09-08T14:06:00.004-04:00

On The Morning Cruise we've talked about Carmen's mom several times. The first weekend she was admitted to the hospital, my wife Kimberly and I were ready to drive to Tampa just to sit with Carmen, hold her hand. It's scary to watch your loved ones go through pain. We went through it in 2005 as my mother battled lung cancer. You don't need lots of well-wishers and miracle cures, you need a little understanding and a lot of support.

When Carmen's mom was diagnosed with MS, it soon became clear that their family would be looking at a drawn-out, daily wrestling rather than a definite cure and rehab. Since then, with failed treatments and a new strategy, starting today, using agressive and somewhat risky drugs, the battle has been worse than expected. And Carmen, strong as she is in her faith and character, is at times hanging by a thread emotionally.

You would think your closest friends, your teammates, would be able more than anyone to enter into your experience, feel your sufferings, empathize. But I find myself emotionally stunted, as I have so often in so many personal situations. In times when I should emulate Jesus, weeping at the tomb of Lazarus though he was about to raise him from the dead, I am like an emotional cripple. I've even faced this with my children, using the excuse at a tender moment when I feel their pain intellectually but not emotionally, "Daddy's cry-er is broken."

I'm sure this pychological phenomenon is ripe with possible pathologies. My disability probably has a name and is likely connected to my childhood in some way. But I'm not interested in that. It's also a pathology of sin, selfishness and a lack of Christ-imbued character. The bottom line is, I just want to be more like Christ, more naturally able to laugh or cry with Kimberly or Madison, able to feel the pain of a close friend like Carmen, rather than merely "understanding" it.

My friend Louis sent me a short, unrelated blog on the same subject. The Frost poem he referenced caught my attention (naturally!) and put these feelings into an exercise in self-examination. I boldfaced the two key lines:

I was leafing through my old book of Robert Frost's poetry last night, musing on the death of a friend from pancreatic cancer. I was drawn to "Out, Out", the title of which is taken from Macbeths' "Out, out brief candle" speech.

How cynical is Macbeth's speech! And in Frost's poem, the ending haunts... "And they, since they were not the one dead, turned to their affairs".

Our confidence is heaven, gained by Jesus sacrifice and the gift of faith is so out of congruence with the world. I think so much of the world lives as if our lives here are truly "a walking shadow... a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

Do we live before men so that they can see the hope that is in us? Is Jesus making a visible change in our lives so that we give hope to those in despair?

These are the questions that come in such a time.

Independence: A Thing of the Past?

2009-07-06T15:10:00.010-04:00

"What (do you think) is necessary for a nation to maintain its liberty?” I threw that question on the family lunch table on Independence Day.

This is dad’s idea of fun.

The teenagers, as you might expect, seized the opportunity for sarcasm with retorts like, “a Taco Bell on every corner” and “less of these kinds of questions!” But then Kimberly chimed in with, “How about people willing to pay the price for freedom?” and the conversation took on a more serious cast. Freedom, as we should all know, isn’t free.

But beyond the consideration of the price of freedom, my question had to do with maintaining independence. This question is important because every generation faces the opportunity to improve what is inherited. I worry that the America my children inherit and leave to their children may be less free, less independent than the America I inherited from my fathers. And it’s partly my fault.

I was taught the values and virtues of freedom and independence, which were inextricably American. America was “the land of the free and the home of the brave” precisely because we all loved freedom as much as life and had something worth being brave for. We knew we weren’t beyond reproach (this was the era of Vietnam and Nixon), but we still saw ourselves as the best experiment in liberty in world history, as possessing something that needed to be defended and preserved for the good of the world, not just ourselves.

My children are not learning the same lessons or inheriting the same values. Neither are yours. Our universities and academies have turned the self-critique of our democratic society into the rhetoric of self-hatred. My generation is staying silent while the flag of anti-Americanism is daily raised, anthemed and pledged in the media and in the halls of higher learning. The newly-enlightened oligarchy seem to be shifting the foundation-stones of our whole country. Hollywood is helping, by supplying the erosion of constant amusement together with destructive narratives condemning American institutions of both God and country (supply your own list of examples by visiting Blockbuster).

After a bit of reflection on the whole matter of maintaining independence, it seemed to me that I could identify at least three large ideas on which America as a free and independent nation rests. First, the kinds of foundational freedoms enumerated in the Bill of Rights seemed fundamental to our forefathers and should be considered the same by us. Freedom of speech, assembly, religion, etc. cannot be sacrificed without our independence being lost. Yet today, with various laws and proposals as well as the new bigotry and prejudice of political correctness, we have caused some of these fundamental freedoms to collapse under their own weight, exchanging rights for guarantees.

Second, being a nation of laws, organized around a constitution rather than a personality or a dynasty makes America one of the greatest political experiments in history. The conditions for such a nation to work have included a sense of personal morality and responsibility, along with the presumption of an adequately educated and informed population. We need to meet these conditions in every generation if we are to remain free and independent. Leaders and followers today place way too much emphasis on popularity and individual charisma. What we get, then, is snake-oil salesmen rather than statesmen. No wonder we elect them, then we want to stone them, a bit like the crowd who wanted to crown Jesus, then a week later shouted, “Crucify him.”

Finally, we need to remember that our sovereignty is derived, not intrinsic. We have the right to be independent because we have been “endowed by our Creator” with inalienable rights. Though the Declaration of Independence stops short of articulating a fully Christian perspective at that point, its language can be (and clearly was) read and understood in a Christian framework. Admitting the Christian character of colonial America is not, however, where the argument ends. For the genius of America is in informing an Enlightenment vision of liberty and freedom with the industry, morality, and shared culture of a godly people. That is why I cringe when I hear Christians responding to questions of liberty and maintaining independence with answers like “elect only Christians” or “get prayer back in schools.” Those are theocratic answers, not democratic ones.

Of all people since the first generations of Americans, we need to refresh the values and vision of Americanism in our own minds and in teaching our children. Americanism is not a term of intolerance and backwards bigotry, but rather of true independence and personal ideals. We are a nation of humility before God, laws over kings, and fundamental freedoms. If we can understand these things, embrace them and pass them on, then maybe there is hope for the next generation.

Eighteen Years and Counting

2009-06-10T12:48:00.011-04:00

There is no traditional gift for the eighteenth anniversary; you're supposed to make it to twenty for china. Twenty-five years starts the really good gifts: silver, pearl, ruby and so on. On June 7, Kimberly and I celebrated eighteen years. For us, it was signficant for reasons other than anniversary gifts. With divorce rates on the upward march, eighteen years of marriage seems to make us veterans who have survived a few battles. On the other hand, for our friends, many of whom have experienced broken relationships and divorce, it was an opportunity for muted celebration, tinged with self-reflection. One friend posted this comment on my Facebook page: Any secrets of longevity you want to pass on...?? This post is my reflection on her question.

Kimberly and I are really just beginning. I hope to be offering advice once we reach thirty-six years, forty years, not eighteen. Maybe that statement reveals an expectation and conviction my wife and I share: marriage is for life. We view being married as a covenant relationship, not a formalizing contract. For so many young couples, getting married merely validates their love and indicates the idealistic belief that they want to spend the rest of their lives together because they enjoy each other so much. The current norm, as I see living examples of it, is to share everything a married couple would, including a bed, before the contract is formalized. The norm Kimberly and I share is that marriage gives us the sacred right and the secure bond of entwining two lives together in a way that is unbreakable. That standard and expectation has guided us toward a "long haul" trajectory and protected us during hard times. The norm, however, has not been our consistent experience.

Complete vulnerability in this public forum is not possible: I won't detail our varied experience, but I will be open enough to confess that in these eighteen years we have been on the brink of a broken marriage more than once. Marriage, after all, may be a sacred covenant, but it binds together two sinners. My own sins have been the most prominent and damaging. Into a beautiful union I brought my separatist tendencies: selfishness, insensitivity, temper, insecurity, and more. Twice, our inability to get along has brought us to marriage counseling. (I would highly advice shelling out the money for qualified, sensible help as a safety net for a failing marriage.) A few times, Kimberly has had to decide, against all her feelings, to stay together. I have been hopeless a few times too. Neither one of us has wanted to settle for a lousy relationship just because we believe marriage is a sacred covenant. But both of us have benefited from going through the battles, letting them season us together rather than break us apart.

Like a crockpot stew, marriage seasons, mellows and paradoxically grows more intensely flavorful as two people endure the heat and pressure of common life. Children add to the mix. Our oldest two of five have reached the teenage years with typical challenges to family identity and unity. Still, we have unusually great kids (in my unbiased opinion) who are bringing us joy, despite the fact that the example we have set for them over the years is far from perfect. Kimberly and I are maturing as individuals too. Her words to me, that she is "the blessed one" for walking the aisle and taking the vows eighteen years ago, were better than any gift. They were the fruit of slow-cooked enrichment.

We have more miles to go, more battles to fight (hopefully more collectively than antagonistically) and more decisions to hold. Clearly, we have not been in this covenant alone. The Creator of covenant has unquestionably given us the strength of will, weakness of self and promised blessing to keep us together when everything else failed. The faith under which we sacralized our marriage has been our lifeline and tether. I don't pretend for a moment that Christianity automatically guarantees a divorce-proof marriage. But I do recognize and assert that not only the moral and social restraints but also the model and living example, along with the covenantal framework in which Christian marriage is embedded, have given us a frame to hold us together and a fortitude to make the long journey.

Here's to the hope, then, that Kimberly and I -- and all who enter the covenant of marriage -- will endure the distance and go for the gold, loving the race all the way to the finish.

Poetry and Philosophy

2009-05-01T14:05:00.007-04:00

There's nothing wrong with things. The world is largely made of things. We buy and sell and trade things. We watch things and type on things and eat things and move around in things. But life is more than things.

Ideas drive the world. They start as seeds in some brilliant mind, usually a mind that doesn't draw a hard line between ideas and things. Their ideas then spread to people whose chief concern is ideas, not things. Idea people usually live in universities and write books. Other people who love ideas but aren't professionals take those ideas and spin them out in some way: a book, a screenplay, a course, a poem, a policy or even a program. That's when the world of ideas meets the world of things.

It happens, then, in theaters, classrooms, boardroooms, talk shows, that ideas take concrete shape. If ideas stay in the ivory tower, they are useless; however, ideas are not useless simply because someone can't define their "cash value." Ideas ultimately create a matrix out of which cultures and societies are shaped and re-shaped.

That's why I love poetry and philosophy. Poetry interfaces the world of things and ideas with the eloquence of art. Philosophy proposes, analyzes, criticizes, and promotes ideas and their interface with culture and society.

Click here to have some fun with Bill trying to bring some poetry to his radio morning show.

Click here to listen to Bill read and appreciate the poems by Christina Rosetti and Gerard Manley Hopkins.

Click the painting below to watch the first of a three-part video of a talk I gave at the Christian Philosophers Society at USF (University of South Florida), Tampa.

If you're really into these ideas, there are two more parts to the talk. I delivered it to a small group of very interested and intelligent undergraduates majoring in philosophy, religion, biology, psychology, etc.

You can find them on Facebook.

If I have a passion for my generation and this moment in American society, it is for us to be more thoughtful, more aware, more appreciative of ideas, whether in their "raw" form, or shaped by poets, producers or preachers in ways that interface with the world of things.

Where Are the Reformers?

2009-02-17T15:32:00.015-05:00

During a Presidents’ Day weekend search for a TV special on Abraham Lincoln, I stumbled across National Geographic Channel’s “Prison Nation.” I was riveted to this documentary that told the story of America's troubled prison system where more than 2.2 million convicts live in a world of increasing violence, extreme crowding, rampant drug use and gang warfare. I couldn’t watch it passively; instead, I set my mind to a question: if Christ-followers are called to be salt and light in the world, where are the reformers of this generation?

Germany had her Luther, England her Wilberforce. Our most prominent social reform, the move from slavery to civil rights, was fueled by the Christian imagination of such figures as Harriet Beecher Stowe and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. These pioneers did not have an easy time with their causes and didn't live to see the fruit of their labors. Neither were their vocations the same. But I can't help but believe God might be calling and equipping someone in our generation to meet the challenges presented by the overcrowding, corruption and largely disappointing results of our current system.

By this observation, I don't mean to imply that Christians aren't active within the system. Ministries like Prison Fellowship and, locally, House of Hope, are doing great good. But it seems to me that the American penal system is overburdened by trying to solve social problems it wasn't designed to fix. From what I saw in "Prison Nation," many young men find themselves behind bars for misdemeanor crimes (drug possession, for example) where their need to survive hardens them. After three years, an average sentence for many first-timers, they are released into society as seasoned criminals. Add to that dynamic the national immigration crisis, and you wind up with a massive overcrowding problem in prisons and unsafe streets. I read that in California (where "Prison Nation" was filmed), the prison population was twice the operating capacity of most prisons. Standard prison ministries can't fix the problem. But they may provide a clue to where the answer lies.

Perhaps God will call someone already involved in prison ministry to think about the entire penal system on a different level. Maybe a guard, a lawyer, a judge, or an inmate will find herself or himself energized and equipped to read, study, get educated and get involved in real reform. It will take abilities and experience beyond what most of us have to effect a change in the system. But our Christian vision of spreading Christ's kingdom and promoting the message of redemption is the right place to start.

In fact, moving away from a redemptive vision of prison may have been where our trouble started. In a fascinating essay, James Beha develops a thesis, very relevant to the current question, that nineteenth century prison reform moved away from a redemptive model to one essentially therapeutic:

...major shifts within the criminal justice system and society at large led to the transformation of the concept of rehabilitation from a religious and spiritual process (“redemptive rehabilitation”) to a highly medicalized and rationalized process (“reformative rehabilitation”). This transformation was driven by a small band of social-scientific pioneers acting during a period of major social upheaval following the Civil War. (Beha, James J.,Redemption to Reform: The Intellectual Origins of the Prison Reform Movement(August 5, 2008), p. 774. Available at SSRN: http://ssrn.com/abstract=1204707)

Beha details this shift to demonstrate how it fit within the larger cultural shifts of the nineteenth century.

The prison reforms of the late nineteenth century were part of a much larger transformation in American society, which can be termed, following Professor Nelson, “the quest for a scientific morality.” This quest was related to two developments in the late nineteenth century: the move toward a more secular culture and a related move to greater bureaucracy and professionalization (Ibid, 783).

As a Christian, I react to Beha's description of nineteenth century reforms in two ways: 1) with a growing appreciation for the way any societal institution must adapt to changing needs and demands, and 2) with a sense of determination to do my part as a teacher and radio personality to call out whomever might answer the call to bring a Christian mind, Christian imagination and Christian ethics and values to this pressing problem. Maybe someone reading this blog will hear a much greater voice through my feeble reflection.

Talent, Character...Whatever Happened to Virtue?

2009-02-05T16:23:00.018-05:00

A phone call that never made it on the air got me thinking about virtue. The caller, a practicing Catholic, was reacting to a conversation that Carmen, Dave and I had about talent and character. Blogger Pete Wilson (a Nashville pastor) got us going on this subject with his post on the recent troubles of olympic swimmer Michael Phelps. Pete's point, the germ of our conversation, was that character is ultimately more important than giftedness because (as I read him) in times of stress, temptation, or relaxation our character rises to the top. For Phelps, character rising meant public exposure of "behavior which was regrettable and demonstrated bad judgment." For several readers of Wilson's blog, however, the flaw was not Michael's bad judgment but Pete's attempt at good judgment in pointing to Michael as an illustration of his point.

After our on-air rant, the caller voiced his disappointment that people, including those reactors we pointed out from Pete's blog (a cross-section of Christians, we assume) seem to be all-too willing to be selective with Christian virtue. Faith, Hope and Love, the three "theological virtues" in classical theological texts, are acknowledged, while other virtues are barely even recognized in Christian teaching. Prudence (proper judgment), temperance (restraint), fortitude (courage) and justice are terms so foreign they must be parenthetically defined when mentioned. Yet these four qualities of Christian character are so familiar to our Western forebears (Aquinas, Augustine, Plato) that we, devoid of teaching or talking of these "cardinal virtues," look foreign to them. Thus, Pete Wilson spoke a strange language for some readers when he exercised prudence in commenting on Michael Phelps.

Rejecting prudence in the name of love is commonplace: "After all, the Bible says 'Judge not'!" Nevermind that the difference between condemnation and discernment -- both synonyms for "judgment" -- is formal and material. The unpardonable sin (sorry, "mistake") in today's public discourse is judgment of any kind. If Michael Phelps or anyone else we idolize for talent's sake displays a public character-slip, we may lament it, gossip about it, ignore it, identify with it or forgive it, but we may not under any condition treat it as moral failure. We don't even have a category for moral failure anymore. There is no such thing as culpable sin, only commonplace mistakes. How could the eyes of love even recognize sin, we reason? Love so sloppily applied that it removes prudence is cannabalistic -- virtue devouring virtue.

Comments on public forums give concrete expression to the problem. And the irony is that, in the name of love the "haters" are demonized in the most vulgar, hateful terms, as this comment in a Dallas Morning News blog illustrates:

The haters - and if you're here bashing Michael you are hypocritical, sanctimonious, moralizing, jealous, vindictive haters, don't fool yourself by thinking otherwise - ignore the simple fact that people break "laws" all the time.

The contributor recognizes the hypocrisy of Phariseeism while ignoring his own hypocritical condemnation of those who mix moral discernment with love. Label it Puritanism and you might as well call discernment the unpardonable sin (ahem, "mistake"). By the consensus of comments on the news blog, moral discernment is the only sin there is. Lawbreaking is human. Pointing out that there are laws is Puritanical.

To be plain at the risk of Puritanism, I say there was nothing unloving about Pete Wilson's using Michael Phelps' poor public behavior as an example of our tendency to exalt giftedness over character. He stopped short of condemning Michael (temperance), yet he did not shrink from confronting his audience's idols (fortitude). He treated Michael's lawbreaking as a public character slip -- and it became public the minute his picture hit the press -- yet his point was not Michael's failure but our own in turning a fallible man into an idol. Michael can outperform anyone in the pool, but that does not make him a god. It does make him a public figure who would do well to consider the lesson Pete Wilson offered in his blog: talent sells, but character sustains.

A Six Year Old and a Smart Bomb

2009-01-26T08:01:00.008-05:00

As we sit at the two-top table in Chick-fil-a, we are not alone. Munching on his mayonnaise-laden chicken strip is my Payton, celebrating his sixth birthday with dad. Beside him, all around, in my pocket and in my head are the voices of those who want and need my attention. They are calling right now. I can't answer. I need this bit of my day to remind you and me of what we already know, what the farmer knows; the wisdom of the athlete, the artist. All tell us to make small deposits, seemingly insignificant, in something beyond ourselves that has not yet taken shape. Yesterday, that's the voice that won the contest – the voice I finally listened to at Chick-fil-a that told me to waste time with my child. It wasn't the first time that voice had spoken, though.

About a decade earlier I was doing something "important" at grad school,commuting to Orlando twice a week. As I drove toward another degree, Kimberly and I were raising two children, a boy and a girl and welcoming the third into our home. I had been fairly hands-on with Will, now 15 (then 6) and was enjoying his new stage of post-toddler independence as a pretext for making more time to study. Kimberly's home-work was just as strenuous and even more important, focused on the heart and heritage of our home. Wisely, one day she confronted me over the seemingly benign distance I had allowed between my firstborn and me: "You know, Bill," she began calmly, "Your son Will is a really cool kid. You should get to know him."

Have you ever heard of a smart bomb? A smart bomb is a precision-guided munition. With surgical accuracy, a smart bomb hits and destroys precisely what is targeted, no more. Kimberly's rebuke was like a smart bomb in my heart, aimed at my selfish inwardness. Conquered, my broken heart found new resolve to not let Will's childhood escape my notice. Last night I enjoyed the spoils of victory, sitting at the dining room table for an hour with Will and Madison (13) for a laugh-at-stupid-videos session initiated by them. A great waste of time. Smart bombs break our souls free from the dungeons of self-importance and feigned efficiency; a wife's wise reproof can turn us from the bondage of self-imposed routine into the "wasted" activity of liberated play with a six year old.

Now at the table with the other six year old, I am flooded with the memory of my previous indifference and the effect of the smart bomb. I am enjoying this interaction: Payton putting mayo on his chicken strips; Payton offering to share his waffle fries; trying to negotiate six inches of softswirl ice cream; lecturing dad on ethics ("cops can't get busted" / "ice cream has no laws"). What if I had missed this opportunity? Thank God for the wisdom of a wife who knows how to arm and aim a smart bomb. Thank God for this moment in which the important is not evident and the "waste" of time becomes the seed of a fruitful, future relationship.

Bill's Productive Day

2008-10-21T13:51:00.004-04:00

You ever have one of those days when you just KNOW what you've planned isn't going to get accomplished?

I have them regularly, but that's beside the point. Here is a good example usurpation by the Unplannable. It falls from the sky a like giant monkey wrench crushing the task list on your PDA, and then what do you do?

Well, if you are a radio morning show, you capitalize on the situation and find the time to produce random, pointless videos that give your listeners a behind-the-scenes glimpse into your world.

And just when you think you're doing something worthwhile, another member of your team (Carmen!) sets you up for maximal embarassment.

And catches it all on film.

Thank you YouTube.

New Gator Book Rocks!

2008-09-20T12:04:00.005-04:00

My brother, Buddy Martin, is an award-winning sportswriter with over 40 years' experience covering (among many other things) University of Florida football. Buddy has just completed and released his fourth book on the Florida Gators, Urban's Way: Urban Meyer, the Florida Gators, and His Plan to Win. I recommend it (would you expect otherwise?) not only for Gator fans, fans of Urban Meyer or readers of sports books, but for anyone wanting a bit of inspiration / motivation.

Those who know me realize I have just endorsed a book in a genre I never read and about which I know virtually nothing. If I had admitted enthusiasm about a new philosophy text (I'm reviewing a final draft for Greg Ganssle right now), a work of classic literature, poetry or theology, no one would think it strange. But a sports book? Buddy has written them before, and they were good. I digested them as best I could and moved on. I have always respected my brother's expertise. Moments in his prose remind me of our dad, a career journalist with a flair for tangents on the subject of Old Florida flora and fauna. But a sports book? I can't put it down!

Here's why: first, the author's perspective on his subject in this authorized biography of coach Urban Meyer is wholistic. Far more than braggadocio and endless statistical jargon, this book humanizes and contextualizes the story of a great winner, a driven, flawed man -- a husband, father, son, child of God, brother, apprentice and friend. From page one, the reader is thrust into the personal world of coach Meyer. We see him not as a calculating strategist, void of conscience, machinelike; we see him first in "The Cul-de-Sac of Champions," a domestic setting, learning from and exchanging ideas with his neighbor and fellow Florida (basketball) coach, Billy Donovan. Buddy offers a view of their relationship as one of the factors contributing to the record-setting 2007 simultaneous national championships: the BCS title in football, and the NCAA Mens Division I basketball championship.

Second, Buddy (a master biographer in this book) is a remarkable psychologist in exposing to the reader not just the habits, but also the drives, passion, principles and potential pitfalls of Urban Meyer's coaching plan. (Urban Meyer must be credited for his amazing vulnerability!) Meyer's approach to football is filled with gleanings for approaching life-goals, rasing children, and pursuing a career. Without intending, this book is therefore serviceable to those who peruse the shelves for self-help -- the practical philosophy of a neo-sophistical era to be sure -- and it is far better than the dumptruckloads of would-be-wise life-calculus texts, designed to make their authors rich and famous, precisely because it does in an honest, unforced, genuine way what the waxnosed sophists claim but fail to accomplish: offers a vision of a life well-lived!

I think some of my favorite moments so far, as I read Urban's Way, are those brief glimpses into the confessional, where Father Buddy is listening to a slice of self-doubt, a bit of critical concern expressed by a friend. The book thus transcends "how to succeed" trash in its inspiration and example for the reader. I am personally inspired. I will keep reading this one until page 336. Then, and only then, will I send my hardback copy back to my brother for his autograph.

Seven Lessons of September Eleventh

2008-09-11T15:16:00.009-04:00

Back To Your Corner!

2008-08-27T11:04:00.010-04:00

Interesting off-air experience on The Morning Cruise this morning: Dave and I picked up the phone during a song, just after a break we did on some remarks made yesterday by President Bill Clinton. Seems that the former President was quoted as recently throwing out a hypothetical: "Suppose you're a voter, and you've got candidate X and candidate Y. Candidate X agrees with you on everything, but you don't think that candidate can deliver anything. Candidate Y you agree with on about half the issues, but he can deliver. Which candidate are you gonna' vote for?" I paraphrased this, then suggested a universal experience. You know how you listen to something as it comes out of your mouth, and a half second later you say, "Whoops, that might be taken the wrong way!" Apparently, that happened to Clinton, who, realizing Senator Hillary Clinton was about to make her speech at the DNC said, "This has nothing to do with what's going on now." To me, the mishap seems very human and slightly humorous. Not so to our friend on the phone.

Phone rings, we answer: "Hi, The Morning Cruise."

"Hey. I've been listening to you guys for a while now. You really should stick to your mission and not talk about politics!"

"Uhhh..."

Click. Drone.

Oh well, it was a critical call. We get those from time to time. No worries. I do wish the guy had engaged us in conversation, though. Instead he threw the grenade and bolted (a common tactic in spousal communications, by the way, and not very effective). I don't know if he was angry, in a hurry, driving or just dropped the phone. Anyway, while I have no problem with this gentleman's distaste for our content, I do have a problem -- a big one -- with the underlying pre-supposition that a "religious" station should avoid certain topics of conversation. Now, I've been doing this job for a while, and I know there are certain topics that our target audience finds so distasteful they should generally be avoided. Politics is one of them. So why did I do this, and what's my problem with the caller's criticism? I did the story because while the content was politics, the subject was the universal experience of foot-in-mouth moments. My problem with the criticism is the implication that our mission disallows us to share an observation or opinion about what's going on in the world of U.S. politics, or any other "secular" subject, for that matter.

That mentality illustrates what's been wrong with American Evangelical Christianity for the last 80 years. Rejecting our call to arms in the culture wars following the Fundamentalist-Modernist controversies and the embarassing 1925 Scopes trial, we built ourselves a religious ghetto, safe from the messy conflicts in the real world "out there." I had a small opportunity today, as part of our mission, to counter that isolationist tendency. If you heard the break (around 9:25 A.M.), you know I was very careful to use the honorific titles President and Senator, I did not voice any partisan position and I used President Clinton's faux pas to illustrate something "we all do."

Don't you think we need Evangelical Christians to model respectful, engaged interaction with the real world machinations of our democratic republic? I thought Rick Warren did an excellent job of it with Senators Obama and McCain during the Saddleback Civil Forum. True, he was "civil," and roundly criticized for it in the unimaginative media. Yet hundreds of comments I read highlighted the beauty of a discussion with two political rivals that did not focus on rhetoric and rivalry, but substantive issues like character flaws, personal and national values and the dynamics of world leadership. I couldn't even tell if Rick was a Democrat or a Republican. I just knew he was interested and engaged. He had a platform, and he used it to benefit humanity -- everyone, not just the activist crowd.

There really is no interest on The Morning Cruise, or The JOY FM for that matter, in more political content or commentary. There are plenty of media outlets that can supply political news, views...bruise and snooze, whatever. What I am scrapping for in this rant is the right to perform our mission, "encouraging people and strengthening the church," by refusing to stay in the "religion" corner. The day any subect of real life in the real world (suited for our family audience) becomes in principle off-limits is the day we fail to fulfil our mission. Chuckling at our shared humanity encourages people. Demonstrating respectful, aware, engaged interaction with the leading news of the day equips Christians for dialogue with the real world and thus strengthens the church.

I only wish the gentleman who called would have been willing to have this conversation rather than simply relegate us to the well-marked, easy to manage corner of his mind reserved for "religion." God help us if we have to stay there.

The God Delusion

2008-08-09T18:49:00.014-04:00

The Richard Dawkins of The God Delusion is arguably the most unpleasant author in all of Darwinian scientific literature: intellectually superior and proud of it; a petty, unjust, unforgiving hatemonger; an angry, totalitarian elitist; a scolding, christophobic, classist, culture-killing, history-revising, misinformed, dis-informing, preening, self-congratulatory, pompous bully.

That, in a nutshell, is my evaluation of the persona of the narrator - Richard Dawkins - in The God Delusion. Can a Christian learn from such a hostile voice? Can the acclaimed author, the Charles Simonyi Professor of the Public Understanding of Science at Oxford University, the most prolific and powerful proponent of atheism in our day, be used by God to teach and chastise? God can make even an atheist’s rant into a song for his glory, and he has done so with Dawkins’s bestseller.

I found reading The God Delusion to be an experience that was offensive but also instructive, corrosive yet corrective and ultimately fruitful. And I believe any thinking Christian would profit from the exercise of working through Dawkins’s many arguments for atheism and objections to biblical faith.

Richard Dawkins is part of a company of visible and volatile atheists, the so-called “Four Horsemen,” whose coincidental attack on religion (predominantly American Christianity) was recently concentrated in a series of books released in 2006-2007. The God Delusion has been the most read, with over 1.5 million copies sold. God is Not Great by Christopher Hitchens, Breaking the Spell by Daniel Dennett, and Sam Harris’s Letter to a Christian Nation square the unholy quartet.

Dawkins’s principle argument (Ch 4 in the most popular American paperback edition - “Why There Almost Certainly Is No God”) rests on an unstated premise – a worldview pre-supposition of naturalism. I tried to take it apart and critique it in a talk recently given to my class in Christian Thinking at Cornerstone Church. The mp3 audio and companion handout are available in the “Bill’s Audio Teaching” section of this blog. Because the quality of the recording was nearly un-recoverable, you may want to download it and tweak it on your own player. If I get a better recording, I’ll switch it out right away. I’ll also try to clean up the transcript and post it, for those who prefer to read.

The best single source for a Christian perspective and critique of Dawkins’s book is The Dawkins Delusion by Alister McGrath. McGrath is an Oxford professor of historical theology and also holds a doctorate in molecular biology. He wrote with his wife, Joanna, who is a lecturer in the psychology of religion at the University of London. While many readers may not have the energy or interest to read The God Delusion on their own and instead opt for reading the McGrath’s book or some similar critique, there will be others who should take the challenge of listening to Dawkins not only as the sneering anti-religionist, but also as one whose misunderstandings and misgivings give Christian thinkers a foil for re-examining some important issues of faith and witness.

We’ve all become familiar with the grand “evolution vs. creation” debate in its many forms, gumming up the works from Parliament to U.S. public schools. Many of us who hold a view we believe to be consistent with the Bible find Darwinian models of evolution unacceptable, yet we hardly know why, much less how to dialogue with their proponents and defend a different view. My point in the talk is that one need not be a research biologist or astrophysicist to see the faults in Dawkins’s main thesis. Simple principles of analysis and reasoning reveal that Dawkins often speaks with more passion than precision in The God Delusion. Still, at his best, the significantly gifted professor enlightens his students, even those who wouldn’t want to be enrolled in the course.

The result is that those Christian readers who can critically interact with The God Delusion will find that some of the stances we have taken to defend our supernatural worldview and our faith in the God who stands behind it are not always strong ones. Instead, we have often demonized our opponents and sought to overpower them politically intellectually, that we might control the cultural battlefield.

Dawkins cannot be easily overpowered. But for that very reason, wrestling with the arguments he presents, if we are strong enough in our understanding of Christian faith and worldview, can only make us stronger and more honest, weaker in ourselves but stronger in faith and dependence on Christ. The exercise will, I trust, yield a more effective witness to the very voices whose stridency drowns out the same human heart-cry we all carry about in this broken world – the cry to be known by One whose knowing means salvation and eternal life.

Homer on the Radio

2008-07-27T00:58:00.016-04:00

Carmen was taunting me on the air last week about a casual reference to Homer's Odyssey, a foundational text in Western culture. I wagered her (because we would never "bet" on The Morning Cruise) that I could find a truck driver or construction worker who had read it, and take his or her call live on the air within ten minutes. I did. The guy was working with soffit molding the moment he called. He admitted to having read The Odyssey under compulsion (for a grade), but said he should probably read it again. Carmen replied that the difference between me and a "regular guy" (like the soffitmaster on the phone) was that I read this stuff for fun. Not really.

I haven't read The Odyssey since my high school AP literature class. I'm not even sure if I ever read the whole epic or not. Of course, I'm well-acquainted with the story of Odysseus's ten year journey home to Ithica after the Trojan War, as I thought everyone was. Odysseus's battle with the Cyclops, his resistance of the temptation of the Sirens, and other such scenes have reverberated in various forms in Western literature, poetry and even movies (Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?). So, no, I haven't read either The Iliad or The Odyssey just for fun. On the other hand, I did just finish a great book ABOUT these and other ancient classics. And it was fun!

Lou Markos, professor of English at Houston Baptist College, lecturer on several courses by The Teaching Company, C.S. Lewis scholar and my friend released From Achilles to Christ: Why Christians Should Read the Pagan Classics in 2007. Following C.S. Lewis's lead and complementing the work of scholars like Peter Leithart, Markos aims to redeem muthos (myth and mythology) as an apt vehicle for truth -- truth that can only find its omega-point in Jesus Christ, whose coming into the world is (following Tolkien / Lewis) "myth made fact." Like the Magi in the gospel story, mythmakers catch a glimpse of God's truth in nature (human nature, in the case of myth) and some follow it on a path toward Bethlehem. Through "vigorous interaction" with the Greek and Roman classics, Markos sifts plot and character, symbol and theme, as a model of Christian discernment and appropriation.

Markos's subjects are the epic poetry and drama of the Greek tragedians and the Roman Virgil's Aeneid. Part one of the 264 page book is dedicated to Homer and his two great epics, The Iliad and The Odyssey. The latter occupies chapters six, seven and eight. What can we learn from this poetic work of fiction, coming from a pagan culture some 700 years prior to the birth of Christ? According to Markos, The Odyssey is a domestic epic, that is, the motivation of the main character is to return home and restore order (oikonomia) to both his home and his kingdom of Ithica. Personal glory is not enough for Odysseus. In a world where barbarism is more common than civilization, Odysseus will resist temptation and hardship to embody the quality of xenia, a sort of "hospitality code" that defines a people as much as any philosophy or military battle. Devotion to his wife, his house and his country motivates the hero throughout, calling the audience to question how important these attachments are to their individual lives and society.

Thus we have a building-block for Western civilization. The Bible makes use of this ethos in Greek culture, where Paul employs "household codes" as the setting for key teaching on the ordering of Christian society (see Ephesians 5:21-33, for example). Moreover, all of us who have grown up in Western culture take for granted that we ought to be willing to fight for our home and family, that the family rather than tribe, national identity, etc. is the basic unit of society. The Odyssey dramatizes xenia in a way that gives the West a context for understanding and receiving the New Testament's teaching. Can we then say that God used Homer to prepare Greek culture for the revelation of Jesus, that The Odyssey contains truth that helps the world understand Truth?

Markos affirms those notions, and so do I. As much as the Author of Scripture knew the ring John 1:1 would have in a Greek ear, thanks to the philosophical idea of the Logos as the rational principle that holds the universe together, so too He prepared the world through pagan literature. This is not to say Greek literature is inspired in the same way as Scripture. Divine special revelation is found only in the incarnation of Jesus Christ and the inerrant verbal witness of the apostles and prophets, preserved accurately and adequately in the canonical books of the Old and New Testaments. The notion of God the Author preparing his audience, however, is a fit instance of Christ's coming "in the fulness of times" (Galatians 4:4).

Within the framework of a brief introduction to the classics, From Achilles to Christ demonstrates the importance for Christians of every age who seek to reform their culture to find and refresh the core values and vision that originally shaped and subsequently sustained that culture. Like the narrative of Odysseus, the canon of Western literature provides many rich examples of formative or reflective clarification of our common values. For American Christians today who often complain about cultural decline, more than an inflamed appeal to our founding fathers is necessary. The elusive search for a common ethos in the midst of growing pluralism may be better guided by reaching further back into our history. We must do the kind of thing Markos does in this book.

So, the journey home describes both Odysseus's quest and my own in serving God's kingdom in an industry situated on the front porch of American culture. Broadcasting, specifically Christian broadcasting, fits in the space -- the vacuum -- created when Bible believing Christians abandoned their calling to be salt and light, redeemers of culture. Like Homer's Odyssey, I hope my own life and work outline a journey in which people find themselves questioning their assumptions, clarifying their core commitments. Above all, I pray the contour of my life, like the common grace that shaped Greek culture in Homer's day, will point people, even if imperfectly, toward a perfect Redeemer who alone fulfills our deepest longings and defines our highest aspirations. Then and only then will my muthos -- the story of my life -- be worth reading.

Summer Cruise 3

2008-06-29T22:15:00.006-04:00

I'm kinda' shocked that Carmen hasn't beat me to the blog, but not really surprised given how exhausted we three hosts of The Morning Cruise must have been this weekend. It's bedtime Sunday, but I just have to throw down these few post-mortem thoughts on last week's Summer Cruise 3 before the week starts.

First, for those dear souls confused: the Summer Cruise 3 was not actually a ship-cruise. It's just the name we gave to the week we take our morning radio show on the road. For us, it's one of the most strenuous weeks of the year. We do it annually, in the middle of the summer -- a non-ratings period, which seems to make little sense from an effort-impact perspective. But we believe the relationships made last week will both help the show/station in the long run and somehow serve the cause of Christ. Ratings aside, it was a great week.

Second, the factors we consider in order to say "great week" include meeting so many enthusiastic listeners, giving a face to the station and our morning show, and building a deeper relationship with our guest artist.

The most rewarding part of the week was meeting so many listeners (we had an average of 350 listeners per stop, I estimate). I am constantly amazed at the level of ministry experienced by listeners of The JOY FM. The station is more than a service, it it is a servant -- it serves listeners like a friend indeed. We heard more than a couple stories about how someone "couldn't have made it through" a difficult life-experience without the encouragement and uplift The JOY FM provided. I am personally thankful the Lord has chosen to use the station for this purpose. I do not take it for granted. That unique ministry has been given freely by the Lord for his purposes, and he can just as freely take it away.

For many, a circle of involvement with the station was completed by meeting the personalities they count as friends. I call this "putting a face on The JOY FM." These are ordinary families who have been touched in some way, either by attending a concert that had a transforming effect, by discovering a faith community as their spiritual home, or by the more nebulous but equally emotional connection with word shared in a song or by a personality.

And the experience of meeting and spending a few personal moments with an artist definitely factored in to making the week great. Matthew West turned out to be a perfect fit for the 2008 Summer Cruise 3. We knew landing him as our special guest was a coup, but we couldn't possibly have known how much he would buy into the week. He did, and he quickly became part of the team.

Matthew was not only a great entertainer of each cafe crowd, he was also an able minister of gospel encouragement wherever we went. He proved himself a trooper, conforming to Carmen's rigorous daily schedule without a complaint: rising early to hide the pink flamingo, performing twice a day, resting little and traveling lots. Matthew rode with us, ate with us, laughed with us and gave himself to listeners, one at a time, all week long. His reward? He got to go do another concert Friday night in Orlando. Hopefully he has gotten some rest by now.

So, another edition of the Summer Cruise pulls into port. Much more will be said, analyzed, planned, improved and celebrated as we are able to process our thoughts, but this quick summary will be complete with a few simple thank-yous.

I am thankful for Dave and Carmen, the best partners anyone could labor with in this business. Dave is the uberchef of much of what we do, providing not only talent but staging and production skills that make our product excellent. Last week, he was the equipment manager, on-site producer, engineer, etc. in addition to being the "Cruse" after which the show is named. Carmen is not only the most prominent personality on the station, she is also the road manager, quality-control expert, hostess, artist-relations specialist, chauffeur and public relations guru. She is a woman driven to excellence for God's glory and pleasure.

In support of the week were EVERYONE at The JOY FM. From our General Manager to the office staff, to a week-long volunteer named David and a new Nashville friend, Tara, it took all hands to make this week happen. Special mention goes to G.T., our "fourth partner" on The Morning Cruise, Mary Douglas, our promotions director and Kris Byerly, our morning show producer. Further, the folks at EMI records in Nashville were personally invested in the week, not only helping us secure Matthew West and arranging details, but also sending Brian Thiele down to spend part of the week with us -- kudos to Grant, Josh, Brian and the rest of the EMI team.

And special thanks to Matthew West, his lovely wife Emily and little Lulu for their generous involvement with us. We appreciate how much Matthew was missed, and conversely how he missed his family. We sat with him on the bus during bedtime prayers (cellphone) and short domestic updates. We know what it's like to be away from your family for the week. And that brings me to my final thank-you: to Kimberly and my five little Martins for adjusting to dad being gone all week (not that there isn't an equal amount of relief with me out of the house!). It was good to spend the weekend at home, following Adam to his all-star baseball games, making my famous tuna salad for Kimberly and having to deal with the realities of teenagers down to the five year old. Glad to have gone -- glad to be home.

May God be glorified through what this last week represents: a community sharing together as God has individually gifted and called them, serving one another in love.

Breaking Out the Hopkins

2008-06-06T16:32:00.013-04:00

EDITOR'S NOTE: Blogless Bill has been waiting for inspiration and time to come together. Well, they finally intersected over a poem.

Dave, Carmen, Mary, Jayar and I were all sitting together at a planning meeting last Wednesday, chatting about business and nonsense, when I broke out the Hopkins. (Note: the slang phrase, "broke out the Hopkins," while not yet catalogued, will someday find its way into gansta lyrics; thereafter it will become part of the Webster's lexicon.) In other words, I read a poem out loud. Right there in Panera, a fit environment for a little half-baked artistry, I launched it.

The experiment met with varied results. Dave, sitting behind my left shoulder began facial contortions. Carmen, seated at my right flank, held back the giggles - at first. Jayar began his left-right eyescan, looking a bit like a cornered animal. Mary just grinned at the whole scene. Eventually, contortions bred out-loud guffaws, incited more wideyed puzzlement and shockwaved into opentooth hehees. Nonetheless, they listened. In fact, Jayar secretly told me he liked the poem, and Carmen had me break out the Hopkins on the next morning's show. Dave didn't slam the rhyme-scheme, so I counted the project a success.

Now let me break out the Hopkins for you:

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs--
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

The poem is called "God's Grandeur," and it was written in the latter half of the nineteenth century by Gerard Manley Hopkins. Now you can see where the phrase break out the Hopkins comes from.

If you choose to read this poem, please read out-loud. Poetry was meant to be recited: not like lines in the high school play, but with acute awareness of the experience the author captured in a verbal art. Poems are not abstract. They are perhaps the most concrete form of language. They are dense, rich, like double chocolate cheesecake. They are compact and economical, terse. Terseness is partly what makes the difference between poetry and prose.

"God's Grandeur" is a social commentary and a doxology packaged together in a simple sonnet. Read that sentence again: how do you do social commentary and doxology at the same time!? The poet can do what ordinary mortals can hardly conceive. Critiquing industry's overrun of nature, Hopkins captures his experience in sense-charged words like the assonant trio seared, bleared, smeared and the alliterative position of the word smell (emphasized by the consonance with toil, soil and feel).

The octave's similes startle: like shining from shook foil and like the ooze of oil. Compare these sensate descriptions of spent-ness with the two similes in the second stanza: the apocalyptic blackness of (I assume) the post-Industrial West contrasted with the earthy, brown womb of the brooding Holy Spirit revealed in the nascent light of New Creation's coming to its fruition ("The New Earth") -- brown but bright against the fruitless pavement of man's creeping, covering technology. The doxology is plain. God's creation and care cannot be undone by the exhaustion of man's uncreate advances on nature.

We can speculate on the poet's experience. Born in 1844, the same year as The Nottingham project, Hopkins would likely have seen, smelled, and seared his feet on the fruits of England's vanguard technology: bitumen bonded roads. Both nature and history (Roman roads) were tarred. When I was a boy, the sand-shell road in front of my house was paved. No more bicycle donuts, skid contests or relatively safe ramp jumps and wipeouts. Part of my boyhood was forever buried under that asphalt. I have no way of knowing if Hopkins wrote out of similar feelings, but the same general lament can be found in "God's Grandeur."

I have only scratched the surface of this lively artifact, and lest my untrained eye damage, I don't want to try to dig much deeper. I've said enough to make the point that, for me, breaking out the Hopkins is a spiritual, emotional experience. One final observation. My favorite line is line 8: the soil Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod. For me, the whole poem is thrust here in one pointed statement. Can you feel the force of the irony? We run barefoot in meadows, over knolls and on sandy beaches. We run, not walk, because we enjoy the sensation. We butt in on nature with asphalt, which requires walking shoes, which rob our feet's feeling. How much sense does that make?

I bring this analysis and affection to reading "God's Grandeur," and I share the faith of the poet. So when I break out the Hopkins, I read with as much feeling and as little artifice as I can capture in my soul. Otherwise, poetry is just prose with style -- yesterday's fashion. But this poem captures me today, and it is fit to capture my children's children, who may find their own analogues in it. That's the power of a poem. Poetry is more than rhyme. It is, as my friend and mentor David Miller says (of metaphor), the world in a grain of sand. If sand can chafe or soothe, depending on how it is understood and used, the experience of reading "God's Grandeur" is a barefoot romp on a powderwhite beach. Take off your shoes and join me.

Random Gutchecks

2008-05-14T23:14:00.004-04:00

Inspiration: Twitter. Mood: guilt. Reason: longing to connect with a new post. Situation: should be in bed, sleeping.

***
My friend Josh went to see Prince Caspian tonight. Not saying I'm envious or anything, but...

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I started writing a book on Caspian over a year ago. I got as far as one chapter, ran it past two of my literary Ph.D. friends, then put it down and never got back to it...

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I want to actually complete and publish a book one day. It may take more than a day.

***
I dropped my brand new Katana II cell phone into shark laden waters in Terra Ceia Bay a week and a half ago. It was a camelback breakingstraw. I've been fighting mild depression since then (nothing worrisome, just a slight valley). I jumped in, but couldn't save it.

***
We caught two small sharks in the same spot the next evening. I think mamas were giving birth nearby.

***
Ministry challenges, tragedies, some regrets, daily living have been heavy.

***
My father-in-law's baseball team, the MCC Lancers, finished "Runner up" in the state JUCO baseball tournament. Great job. We all wanted to see them go to Grand Junction for the World Series.

***
I've started two posts within the last 10 days. Couldn't finish either one.

***
Did I mention: My friend Josh went to see Caspian?

***
I wonder if Vicki Beeching has been to see Caspian yet. She speaks the language and all...

***
Dave is still boycotting his blog.

***
Carmen's posts have been really thoughtful and funny. Carmen is regularly tweeting.

***
I'm co-teaching a "Christian Thinking" class at church, starting next week. We revised it after the first time we taught it. Should be better.

***
MCC asked me to teach philosophy and ethics courses. No time. Bummed.

***
Josh is probably finishing Caspian right now. Wonder if he'll tweet about it?

***
Twitter rocks. Wish I had a cell phone.

***
Vicki Beeching was the first person I know to start with Twitter.

***
I should go back now and put links and labels on this post.

GMA Week - Live from Nashville

2008-04-24T11:16:00.009-04:00

(Sitting in the lobby at the Renaissance Hotel in downtown Nashville sipping a Starbucks grande Earl Grey soy misto. Ummm. First moment of personal "down time" I've had during this very frenetic Gospel Music Week)

For the last five days, this place has been abuzz with the noise of the Gospel Music Association. It's an industry, and like anything industrial, the wheels of business churn and scrape. Some hear only the noise and curse the machine. Others drown out the noise, escaping behind their earbuds. The escapism turns gospel music into more noise. Many have tuned their ears to lift melody out of the cacophony. I am one of them.

This was the first time since 1999 that I've been here the entire week, broadcasting The Morning Cruise from the Nashville Convention Center. From our Plexiglas studio Dave, Carmen and I heard not just noise, but the hearts of passionate and thoughtful artists. Standouts included the misty-eyed meeting with Chris Tomlin and Denver Moore (Same Kind of Different as Me), the self-effacing vision of the under-appreciated, ubertalented Sara Groves taking the form of a new tour for justice and art with Brandon Heath (congrats on the Dove, bro!) and personal favorite Charlie Peacock. Topping even these notes for wow-factor was straightforward testimony of brokenness and new found transparency from Wynona Judd, speaking backstage at the Dove Awards.

(Wynona, it seemed to me, was in a good place spiritually. She credited her renewed heart to "going to church with Natalie Grant." Her words and manner backstage displayed Christ in a way that brought him glory - Colossians 1:27.)

All week, the noise was churning. And all week I've heard, even more so than a decade ago, the colorful, symphonic strains of the gospel from the mouths of sinners: broken hearts singing His praise through the sometimes-polished phrases, often-trembling lips. What an encouragement! What a confirmation that the Lordship of Christ is pervasive in the midst of human institutions! What a reward for one who wears his coat in this vocation so loosely, having often longed to walk another path.

Mostly, encouragement comes from those walking the same or similar paths. The relationships we've built over the years with a handful of Nashville insiders was something we savored (if only too briefly). Friends like Jim Houser, Amy ("Amers") Fogelman, Josh Lauritch (and team members Brian and Betsy, with whom we shared bubble tea), Andrea Kleid, Mark Giles, Kyle Fenton, James Riley and a few others make these Nashville excursions feel like family. No kidding. Fellow broadcasters fall into this category as well, but not as readily as those named. I feel like there is beyond-business friendship that I hope can be renewed and lasting.

Finally, it was great to have a few special guests that made this year's GMA week a standout. Phoebe is a character! We got to meet her and talk for about half an hour. (Our listeners will share in some of that conversation.) Denver Moore was our personal charge: he rarely travels without Ron. He made this trip not just to sing a potential vignette for Chris Tomlin's new record, but because he is our friend, he told us. Denver does not use that word lightly. I was honored and told him so.

(I told him so over tacos at SATCO. It was one of the few meals at which I didn't overeat, out of respect for Denver, who has lost weight both for health and for the sake of the homeless -- he can't fathom wasting any food.)

The lobby is buzzing again. This time the buzz is from strangers. most of us have gone home to our loving families, as I am about to do. I love Kimberly, Will, Madi, Adam, Grady and Payton more than any human beings. But while I was away, it was both professionally and spiritually boosting and personally heartwarming to be here to add the tune of my own heart to the symphony of gospel-driven praise that comes out of the noise.

Know Thyself

2008-04-03T12:02:00.006-04:00

I love it when the latest hot culture-fad turns up already tried on and laid aside by some previous generation. I see this phenomenon happening to some degree with trendy elements in the Emergent movement. (We'll discuss it another time perhaps). And I found a passage in Calvin's Institutes that seems to me to chasten our general ignorance regarding the Oprah discussion we had last week.

John Calvin (1509-1564), misunderstood and maligned as he is, was actually a brilliant student of the human condition as well as of theology. Today,these insights would fall sowewhere between sociology and psychology, but in his day, they were all relevant to the task of writing a practical handbook of Christian faith for Protestant converts. The Institutes is famous for connecting the knowledge of God with self-knowledge -- a major theme in several of the writers and teachers Oprah has been promoting (see previous posts). In the passage I found (in a modern-language version), Calvin commends secular philosophers for embracing the Socratean dictum, Know Thyself; however, in typical French humanist rhetorical fashion, he sets the principle of self-knowledge up in order to show how inadequate it really is.

And the whole section is so insightful and applicable to our previous discussion of New Age gurus, in which I tried to assert that the Self is not a good starting place from which a search for truth should begin, that I want to share a couple of paragraphs with you. Keep in mind that this was written in the sixteenth century. I'll give you the key line first, then quote the section at-length:

If we listen to teachers who get us to dwell on our good qualities, then far from making progress in self-knowledge, we will be sunk in the most disastrous ignorance.

Got your attention? Here's the larger piece, which begins by asserting that true self-knowledge destroys our self-confidence and puts us in the position of realizing our need for a Redeemer:

I am aware that a much more acceptable view encourages us to think about our good qualities, rather than dwell on our overwhelming shame and misery. The human mind loves nothing better than flattery, and so when told that its gifts are considerable, it is inclined to believe it wholeheartedly! So it is not strange that the majority of men have sinned so blatantly in this matter. Because of the innate self-love which blinds us all, we willingly convince ourselves that we do not possess a single undesirable quality.

So, without any external approval, there is a general belief in the mistaken idea that man has everthing he needs for a good and happy life. If some people think more modestly and give God a little credit, so that they do not appear to claim everything for themselves, the division always leaves the chief ground of confidence and boasting in themselves. Nothing is more gratifying than a speech which flatters man's innate pride.

So in every age, the one who is quickest to lift high the excellence of human nature is received with the loudest applause. Teaching man to rely on himself can be no more than sweet seduction, because everyone who is deluded by it will be ruined (Calvin, Institutes, II.1.2, eds. Tony Lane and Hilary Osborne, emphasis mine).

Unbelievable. When I peruse Marianne Williamson's stuff on A Course in Miracles, or scroll through Eckhart Tolle's A New Earth, I see exacty the kind of self-love and gratifying speeches that Calvin is calling out nearly 500 years ago. The trouble with searching for God "within" (the Self, Hinduism's atman) is that truth, peace, Love and salvation lay outside ourselves. The first principle of a biblical worldview is that there is a distinction between the Creator and the creatures. Secondly, that though we are created in God's image (Genesis 1:27), we are fallen, broken, alienated from God and each other and corrupt in our self-estimations (Romans 1:18-21).

Calvin teases out the idea of the inadequacy of self-knowledge (and unaided knowledge of God) to lead his readers to the conclusion that we need a mediator, and that the grace of God and the cross of Christ answer our need:
So, although the preaching of the cross does not square with human wisdom, we must accept it humbly if we want to return to God our Maker (from whom we are estranged) so that he may become our Father again.

This wisdom from above truly saves us and sets us right with God and ourselves. And it is inclusive, as Calvin reminds:

Christ does not speak only of his own age, but embraces all ages whe he says, 'This is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent (John 17:3)... (Institutes, IV.6.1).

Spirituality and Oprah Winfrey

2008-03-26T16:29:00.015-04:00

I’m about to do something I nearly always encourage people not to do. In fact, one of my personal goals, as long as I am behind a pulpit, lectern or microphone, is to encourage (read: push) Bible-believing Christians not to jump on bandwagons, not to accept sloppily-reasoned, poorly researched (and often sub-biblically supported) critiques or censures. This conviction notwithstanding, however, I need to offer a few gut reactions on the Oprah Winfrey stuff we’ve been discussing on The Morning Cruise. I begin with the disclaimer, because most of my quick research has been via the internet and from secondary sources, with the exception of reading the material from Marianne Williamson’s daily radio scripts for Oprah and Friends on XM and trolling the websites of Williamson and Gary Zukav (and a few others).

It is a benefit, however, to have a background in theological studies and to have taught an introductory college class in world religions. Certain themes and concepts appear in the teachings of Oprah’s stable of spiritual authorities which prove to be transparent borrowings, evident to the trained eye. For example, of Eckhart Tolle, currently teaching a web event for Oprah’s Book Club, Amazon.com states: “Eckhart Tolle is a contemporary spiritual teacher who is not aligned with any particular religion or tradition.” Yet the bookseller offers this description of his bestseller, A New Earth:

Tolle describes how our attachment to the ego creates the dysfunction that leads to anger, jealousy, and unhappiness, and shows readers how to awaken to a new state of consciousness and follow the path to a truly fulfilling existence.

Anybody with me here? This is Buddhism 101 for Western Dummies! Nirvana is the state of extinguishing the self. It is the goal of awakening for humanity, trapped in maya, a world of illusion, and a way of escape from moksha, the wheel of existence and rebirth (concepts borrowed from Hinduism). The first of the Buddha’s Four Noble Truths is: life is suffering (including “anger, jealousy, unhappiness”). Tolle is “not aligned with any particular tradition?”

In fact, as far as I can tell, much of the wisdom dispensed by Oprah’s spiritual advisors is little more than Westernized, psychologized versions of Eastern religious concepts that are as old as civilization. There is nothing new under the sun.

That thought brings me to my analysis, such as it is, of how and why Oprah’s endorsement of A Course in Miracles must be understood and rejected by Christians. My goal is neither censure nor activism, but rather equipping the reader to discern basic distinctions between a Christian / sub-Christian worldview, that you might “test everything; hold fast what is good and abstain from every form of evil” (1 Thessalonians 5:21-22). From what I can see, Oprah’s intentions are not evil. In fact, I disagree with several Christian commentators I’ve read who omnisciently assert that Oprah’s heart-motivation for promoting all these New Age books and teachers is money. To the contrary, I suggest Oprah’s actions have been consistent with her mission of trying to improve women’s lives, turning to New Age teachers in the process. Furthermore, many Christian women and men are living very close to the same deception – a deceit that replaces their faith in the transcendent God with techniques of self-transcendence. I’ll explain these terms in a minute.

Specifically, it is a short step from self-improvement to mind sciences, and Oprah has (unwittingly?) taken that step. Using her own rags-to-riches experience as a paradigm of possibility, Oprah has turned to articulate and charismatic motivators like Dr. Phil and Suze Orman to educate and captivate her audience of over 40 million viewers. While much practical advice can be found on The Oprah Winfrey Show, there is no filter for spiritual advice except “self-improvement.” When one does spirituality (or theology) with SELF at the center, the New Age is crouching at the door. New Age religion-blending spirituality has a common focus with self-help advice – the self.

I am being subjective, but ironically, the subject is the problem. In other words, it is I who want to be happy, healthy, wealthy and wise, but the thing preventing me from all this is… I! What I need is to feel better about myself, stop beating myself up, start being the I which I am in the Universe to be …”brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous” (Williamson, Lesson 1). In spirituality like this, the self (subject) becomes (incoherently) the object of self-improvement. The only philosophy/religions where such contradiction can fly are Buddhism and Hinduism. Not to knock these great world religions, but I must remind you how inconsistent they are with Christian faith and practice. In biblical terms, the self is created by God with dignity and purpose (Psalm 8 – we are “crowned with glory and honor”), but also fallen and in need of Jesus’ cross of redemption (Luke 9:23 – deny yourself and take up the cross). Salvation and redemption of the self thus lay outside and beyond ourselves (transcendence), not within us.

Oprah’s spiritual tutors often speak in Christian terms like, “We were born to make manifest the glory of God...” (Williamson, Lesson 1). But be sure, the terms are only there to be redefined within a larger system, or worldview, that is entirely unbiblical. A Course in Miracles, the basis for Oprah’s daily radio “devotional” program taught by Marianne Williamson, is a case in point: it was “dictated” to Columbia University’s Helen Schucman (d. 1981), a psychologist, by an inner Voice purporting to be Jesus. The problem is that this Jesus – let’s call him “Spirit Guide Jesus” – preached another gospel, contrary to the one he taught, lived and died for according to the Bible (doubt the Bible? Listen to my class on the development of the New Testament in the audio links just to the right side of this screen). Guess what that Bible says about ANY “spirit guide” that preaches another gospel?

But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed (Galatians 1:8).

I don’t feel like we’re on solid ground here, following Schucman’s inner Voice. But we are on familiar ground.

In fact, looking at the whole Oprah phenomenon through the widest-angle lens, I see something that looks a lot like a modern recapitulation of a movement challenging early Christianity called Gnosticism. Briefly, Gnosticism is the contemporary term for a bunch of blended religious and philosophical stuff, unified by this key idea: salvation through (self) KNOWLEDGE (gnosis). Some people confused Christian teaching with Gnosticism. Some still do, but true Christian faith is 180 degrees from Gnosticism. Here’s the good news of the gospel: we can’t save ourselves by turning inward. Our only hope is in what God has already done for us – taken all of our faults, fears, sins and selfishness and judged them in the crucifixion of his Son, Jesus Christ. Faith, not knowledge, saves us (Romans 1:17, 2 Corinthians 5:17).

My conclusion is that Oprah is, probably completely unintentionally, playing the role of a 21st century patron of neo-Gnosticism. For more on Gnosticism – more probably than you ever wanted to know – please listen to my Gnosticism talk under “audio teaching.” Again, I don’t think Oprah is malicious in her intent, based on her mission of improving women’s lives and her own experience of seeking wholeness and bettering her life through that search. Unfortunately, based on what she is espousing and promoting, I believe Oprah is deceived and deceiving others.

The best article I found and from which I formulated some of these thoughts is by Kate Maver, a graduate of Chicago Theological Seminary. It can be found under this link at the Christian Research Institute:
http://www.equip.org/site/c.muI1LaMNJrE/b.2744595/k.BC20/DN403.htm

A farily detailed analysis / warning to believers from a former New Ager named Warren Smith:
http://www.crossroad.to/articles2/007/smith-oprah.htm
Note: this gets into the question of "mainstream" Christian teachers embracing some of the authors / ideas categorized as New Age. I am not interested in pursuing this. Too often, Christians buy hermetic "conspiracy theories" and discredit their own. On the other hand, when I see New Age, I don't care who is teaching it, it should be critically discerned and openly rejected.

Snopes.com responds to the question, "Is Oprah pushing a New Age Christ?" and gives good info about A Course in Miracles: http://www.snopes.com/politics/religion/newageoprah.asp

Dennis Babish has a thoughtful commentary on Oprah's role as New Age discipler on Chuck Colson's BreakPoint website:
http://thepoint.breakpoint.org/2008/02/oprah-winfrey-t.html

Here's a candid and informed report by Terry Mattingly on Oprah's core beliefs:
http://www.religionnewsblog.com/17159/just-what-are-oprah-winfreys-core-beliefs

This is cool: an interactive worldview comparison chart from Summit Ministries - New Age beliefs would be under the heading, "Cosmic Humanism":
http://www.summit.org/resources/worldview_chart/

And now, the primary resources:

http://www2.oprah.com/index.jhtml - You'll find links to Marianne Williamson's XM radio class here and Eckhart Tolle's A New Earth web event.

http://www.godtube.com/view_video.php?viewkey=62fcd6d28b732da7cbfd - our source for the audio of Oprah's exchange with Christian women in her audience on the question of Jesus as the only way of salvation

Homework

2008-03-24T22:02:00.008-04:00

Carmen has me doing some homework. I'm trying to finish the informative and insightful book by my friend, Lou Markos (From Achilles to Christ) and work my way through a new critique of "The New Atheists" by David Aikman (The Delusion of Disbelief). That seems like enough. But then Carmen comes in this morning having spent time Easter weekend watching Oprah's Big Give and talking with a friend about Oprah's increasing role in women's lives as guru and priestess. Carmen feels a personal responsibility to respond as a Christian woman with a public platform. I'm all for it. But until today, I didn't know much about Oprah's role in promoting ideas, books and personalities best described as sources for learning New Age spirituality. Thus, the work begins.

Since we are talking about it this week, I spent much of the day Monday getting up to speed on Oprah, her spiritual advisors and influences, Marianne Williamson, the XM radio daily "devotion" in A Course in Miracles, etc. I'm tired now, and I need to go to bed. I'll try to find time to keep up my philosophy studies and develop course ideas for the intellectual history of Christianity (important, not urgent stuff). I'll try to squeeze in book three in the Pullman trilogy, and I'll keep researching Oprah so I can be a good depth commentator when Carmen needs one. Hopefully, the effort will be worth it: to help people discern without bashing, so they can reply to friends and family with skill, gentleness and respect (1 Peter 3:15).

Has it Come to This?

2008-03-06T14:17:00.006-05:00

Okay, I give.

Having posted NEW STUFF here, consisting of:

"Word of the Day" from Dictionary.com (right column);
"Philosophy Ramblings" from Britannica.com (bottom);
Audio / Video, mostly to make my lectures available (right),

I feel like I at least owe it to my listeners / readers to go all the way, making a complete whitenerd-fool of myself. So I posted the infamous "Bill Boomin'" video. tobyMac will be horrified. So will my mother (God rest her soul).

Have you ever had one of those moments where you just went with the flow, let down your hair, etc. only to have it immortalized and mass-distributed? I now know what it feels like to be one of those poor saps on America's Funniest Home Videos (and lose to a kitten). Ugh.

On the other hand, there is a kind of perverse pleasure in knowing just how shocked and mindblown my children, grandchildren and former professors will be when they see this. May my foolishness be ultimately redeemed as a counterpoint to the serious tone often set by this overly Presbyterian father. Rock on (Colossians 3:23)!

Footnote on Sara Groves

2008-02-29T05:58:00.004-05:00

Thanks for all the great comments on my previous post on Sara Groves' music. Here are a couple of highlights:

From Linda: what am I doing for Jesus? I only get one life ... we all have a specific purpose ... what if I miss mine? Or have I missed something already? This is all causing much introspection and re-evaluation of where I am headed and what I am being called to do ...

From Beth: I am speechless. I heard the song on the radio this morning and the interview with Sarah, but the faces of those children in the video are what captured me. In 2006 my husband and I adopted three siblings, through the state. I can see their faces and their pain in the faces of those children. Makes me want to go to Rwanda and bring home 10 more.

From Anonymous: I am going through a heart-wrenching struggle with an upcoming divorce and the hurt and anger that I feel has been overshadowing my hope that the Lord can use this to make me stronger and allow me to minister to others. Thank you for bringing out the meaning of this song for me.

These moving comments are a pretty good illustration of why I wanted to share Sara's record in the first place. So, here are a couple of extras links for you:

- Hear more Sara Groves on mySpace music.
- Listen to this blog-exclusive excerpt from our radio interview. (Sara talks about "spiritual buffalos.")
- Link to our audio highlights from The Morning Cruise.
- Buy the CD or DVD, Tell Me What You Know. Buy the record - you can't experience the whole thing with a download.

Last note: Other than "I Saw What I Saw," my favorite songs from Tell Me What You Know will probably never be heard on radio (that's just the nature of the beast):

Track 6 - "Honesty"
Track 7 - "Abstraction"

Stopped by a Song

2008-02-21T13:38:00.010-05:00

In the moments I get to be alone with my thoughts (which are few), I've been brooding over whether to share my impressions of the Bike Ride for the Homeless, post some recent lessons from Isaiah 58, or compose a short essay comparing Philip Pullman's and Mary Shelly's concepts of the zombie and their implications toward an analysis of the soul. (Brace yourself, it's coming.) Too little time for any of these lately.

Then I got stopped in my tracks by a song.

It happens every now and then, usually unexpectedly. When you're in my profession, songs roll over your ears like dollars through a teller's fingers. They are currency - valuable, but familiar and objective. When a song reaches out from the speakers, through the ears, past the broca, into the heart and then back up to the lachrymal glands, I've got to share the experience. In this case I was tracking through Sara Groves' latest CD, Tell Me What You Know. We're playing her song, "When the Saints," which is not getting a lot of airplay around the nation because you have to listen to more than just "the hook" to be grabbed by it. Our listeners allow us to mix in some meatier songs, so the song is doing quite well on our air. But it's another song, track 8, that I'm gushing about.

"I Saw What I Saw" was inspired by Sara's work with the International Justice Mission and a recent trip to Rwanda. Unlike previous quick forays into disaster relief and social justice, Sara says that on her Rwandan mission, she realized how much we miss knowing Christ until we know him in his suffering. We come to know Jesus this way by entering into the suffering of the poor and oppressed. A major theme in the Christian life, we hear little about redemptive suffering in the context of comfortable American evangelicalism.

Sara's song grabbed me, reached my soul, wrung me out. I thought of going to India just after the 2004 Tsunami: walking the beach in Muttom, seeing the photograph in the foyer of a wife and mother who were silently swept away, as a grieving husband invited us into his tiny house; surveying the rubble, reading the pain on the faces of the villagers who were skeptical of our being there. I wondered if my two trips to the southern tip were the "quick hit" type of mission, or if in my heart I really entered into their suffering. I think it's a bit of both. "I Saw What I Saw" took me there and stood me before my Lord with empty hands.

Everything about this song penetrates the hard shell of familiarity: the simple, plaintive chord structure led by Sara on piano, the always-perfectly complementary countermelody of John Catchings' cello, and the deliberate, falling melody over marked rhythms and pedal tones, balancing a tense, stepwise, upward movement in the chorus, a setting for these hope-filled lyrics:

your pain has changed me
your dream inspires
your face a memory
your hope a fire
your courage asks me what I am afraid
of
and what I know of love, and what I
know of god

If I say anymore, I'll just ruin the song. You have to watch the video. Oh, and I'll be talking to Sara next week for the show. Make sure you listen.

How Great is Our God

2008-02-05T15:07:00.002-05:00

Maybe you expected it; I didn't. For me, the Chris Tomlin shows were as good as a revival service (real, transformative revival, not blubbering blasts of hot air). I stood in the back of the Manatee Convention Center with my two sons and lifted my voice and hands as high as they could go, which for a middle-aged Presbyterian isn't far. But that doesn't matter: it was enough to embarass my sons and help me connect with God in genuine worship that humbled my heart before a holy God.

Tomlin's songs have even more weight in concert than in recordings. I suspect Chris's passion to share his songs with the church, along with the intentional "vertical" focus of the event have something to do with the potency of the experience. But there is more. I maintain that the power and efficacy of Chris Tomlin's music is directly related to its theological underpinnings.

Today in our Joy FM staff meeting, we watched a DVD of Louie Giglio speaking in Atlanta in the How Great is Our God tour. His message was not just exciting because of the passion of his delivery, not just compelling by the detail of the macroscopic and microscopic scientific detail he uses to illustrate the greatness of God. Louie's words resonate the voices of dead giants, like Spurgeon, Watts, Augustine, Paul and thus the voice of God Himself (if not the Vox Dei, at least the Verbum Dei for those who miss the Latin!). In other words, with the precision of a surgeon, Louie Giglio cut away the thin, weak, dependent, indulgent god of American evangelicalism and in that idol's place enthroned the Most High God, Starbreather and Sinbearer. The message theme was tuned to Psalm 33, with Psalm 139, Isaiah 40 and Colossians 1 harmonizing:

And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.
Colossians 1:17-20

This is what I call "Big-God theology." It's sadly lacking in the experience of most contemporary Christians. For us, when the message ended the entire room was speechless. Words are flimsy against a weight they cannot hold: so the greatness of our God over against our infinitesimal humanity. We eventually groped to pray, and our prayer was very Christ-centered. It had to be. Our only hope before an immense and holy God is His own salvation, given in Christ, received and stood-upon in faith by those who claim his Name. He holds together our frail frame (literally - watch the DVD) and keeps us from disintegrating before His Father, who is superlative in holiness (Isaiah 6).

All I'm trying to say is that THIS is the theology behind songs like "Indescribable," "How Great is Our God," "His Grace is Enough," and "God of This City." And this theological undercurrent provides streams of inspiration for Chris Tomlin's songs.

Even though our time with Chris behind the microphone was a blast (click to listen), he may be the one artist with whom I have personally connected more on stage than in person. That's because we are both (we, the audience and the artist) connecting with One whose presence engulfs us and circumscribes our experience, shifting our perspective and potentially changing us from the inside out.

Something Rather than Nothing

2008-01-25T14:24:00.000-05:00

A NEW BLOG: And I promise, no Latin this time.

One of the many self-proclaimed radio gurus (the experts we are supposed to learn our job from) has said,"It's better to do something than to do nothing," countering the fear jocks sometimes have of taking on-air risks.

Nota Bene: If you have ever listened to our show, you know we have no fear of taking risks. Sometimes it might be better if we did.

VIOLATION: Apologies. The Blogger Police have just caught me using Latin after promising I would avoid ancient langugage in this blog. Oh well, mea culpa.

Where was I? Oh, yes: the philosophy of doing something rather than nothing that I said was promoted by one of those radio expert guys -- well, he's right. Pay the man and give him an important title. Only, it's possible he doesn't know how right he is.

One of my life struggles has been perfectionism. I used to think that term applied to me was a compliment. It isn't. Perfectionism is the tendency to spend much more time and energy on something than it is worth. I could spend all day trying and I'd never look like this guy (who is that greaseball anyhow?), so what's the point?

My point is that I have often been paralyzed because of the perception of a lack of time or energy or focus or resources. The feeling is that, to do the job right (which is "perfectly" of course), I must have/be/get/take something I currently don't have. Therefore, I will wait (Ah, friend of Perfectionism, welcome to the party, Procrastination!) until I have more...

And here's the deception: more usually never comes. I have a stack of books to get to when I have more time. Forget that: I have books I want to write when I have more education, more skill, more time. This is the paralysis analysis.

Here's more (hang with me, I have a point). What if we do have enough? What if there's enough time, skill, etc. to do the thing we have been putting off? The perfectionist thinks he can then perfect, but it isn't so. There is only one Perfect One. Everything his creations create is imperfect. The perfectionist vainly labors under the false assumptions that a) he is able to overcome his own internal imperfections, and b) that we want him to wait until he does before we savor his work. Good artists are a counter-illustration. Have you ever watched an artist work and felt frustrated that what she thought was finished wasn't really perfect? Yet the WHOLE turns out to be better than if she's allowed you to tinker with the parts.

Is this making any sense? Here's a better illustration. Last week I had enough time to do a thought-through blog. Write. Edit. Re-read. Re-edit. Post. Yet when Carmen read it, she found it nearly unintelligible, and it's not her fault. My Lord, I used Latin terms, technical words, and it was even longer than this one! This post will probably turn out to be at least as good, to at least some of the readers, and it's completely off the cuff (no time). I chose to do something rather than nothing.

This week was great on The Morning Cruise. We had laughs, tears and surprises that make us, not to mention our audience, remember that life is unpredictable, that it's good to remember your humanity. I just thought I wanted to share that with you. And I wanted to share the fun video that we did with Matthew West. Take a minute (actually seven) and watch 60 Seconds with Matthew West. And then, right after you watch it, take a minute and do SOMETHING you have been putting off, laboring under the whip of perfectionism.

(I just realized I don't have the ability/time to upload the video here. Maybe I should wait... Oh well, just follow this link: Morning Cruise TV.)

Devotional Reading

2008-01-19T12:00:00.001-05:00

Carmen has us doing this 30-day journey in journaling, using the Life Journal, a simple little publication that seems to be the outgrowth of the personal devotional habit of a pastor in Hawaii (as far as I can tell). It's great, though, because it is so simple. Lots of material currently labled "Devotional" in bookstores is, in my opinion, either too complicated, not flexible enough, or shallow. The Life Journal suffers none of these, though it somehwhat lacks adequate space for reader response in the various sections. Its purpose is straightforward: interaction with Scripture, and through that interaction personal devotion to God.

Though simple, devotional reading is not simplistic. Reading the Bible devotionally is a discipline that dates back, as such, to the Middle Ages. The practice of Lectio Divina is being revived in contemporary Christian practice, in both Catholic and Protestant spirituality. It consists of four movements: Reading (out loud), Meditation, Prayer and Contemplation. The trajectory is somewhat mystic, aimed at bringing the worshiper beyond his analytical reflection into the mystery of communion with God. I've been practicing this type of devotional reading for about the last two years. For me, the Medieval aim of the Lectio needlessly separates the analytical from the spiritual -- a Gnostic dualism that can be remedied if one's goal in devotional reading becomes not experience, but rather action, seeking to live out what we find in the text.

Devotional reading at its best should be nothing less than the radical application of God's word and will to our lives. Distinct from other types of Bible reading - study for example - devotional reading requires that both our heart and head, our will and emotion become fully entangled with the text we are reading. It is not that we won't learn Scripture as we read devotionally. Just the opposite: devotional reading puts our hearts in the proper position to instruct the affections to savor and the intellect to retain . Thus the word of God becomes more than an object of reflection or contemplation, it becomes life to us (Psalm 119:159; John 12:50).

I would commend devotional reading as essential, not optional, for the spiritual formation of every Christian. Saying this, I would be quick to add that I am not asserting that a particular method or formula is necessary. When I was a baby Christian, I'd just find a text I was interested in and read it Coram Deo (before the face of God). Intuitively, new creatures in Christ read their Bibles as if God were speaking to their hearts in the text. In those tender days I always read with a pen and notebook in hand, because I wanted to write down what God was showing and telling me through interaction with his word. I naturally treated the Bible not merely as an object for study (though it is!), but as a personal letter from a Father who wants to shape the values and vision of his sons and daughters. Natural curiosity compelled me, however, to never separate observing details of the text from existential application.

Spiritual maturity requires that we turn those innocent responses into disciplines, so we will learn to be faithful in the difficult or dry times (2 Tim. 2:1-15). The Life Journal has advocated a four movement method called, simply, SOAP. The four movements are faithful both to the devotional tradition and basic inductive Bible study principles. Scripture, the first movement, includes the entire Bible, but the reader has to determine which verse or short passage he or she will zoom in on, taken from large chunks of reading. Observation, the second movement, is the core of all sound exegesis: what is the text saying, to whom, by whom, for what purpose. Again, the Life Journal doesn't leave enough room for detail here, but at least basic features of the text can be observed prior to personal application. Application follows Observation, querying one's own heart and the Spirit as to how the text might be lived out in the reader's life. Finally, Prayer brings the reader into communion with God, making the whole exercise more than an intellectual enterprise.

The journey has been profitable for me, and I trust for those listeners who have participated. I started at August 8 in the Life Journal, because I wanted to read Jeremiah. Most recently, I zoomed in on Jeremiah 4:23 (ESV) I looked on the earth, and behold, it was without form and void; and to the heavens, and they had no light. Now, there is a powerful piece of prophecy I might have missed, had I not slowed down enough to notice. I titled my journal entry, "Uncreation." I observed that these words are a direct reversal, in attitude, of Genesis 1:2-3. I remembered that God's judgment on Israel's committed anti-law attitude was literally the dissolving (un-creation) of the northern tribes by Assyrian invasion in 722 B.C. I thought about the poetic language in Jeremiah and noted that the application of these passages sometimes reaches beyond the original audience. I thought about my own life, committed in some ways to Christ as his disciple, but in other ways perhaps conformed, committed to the world rather than to my Lord. Writing that application, it was time to voice a simple prayer: God, help me to be in the world but not of it. Please continue to conform me to the image of Christ.

The power of devotional reading is that, behind that simple prayer stands the force of God's word and Spirit applied to the heart of the one who has uttered it. There is certainly more in the text of Jeremiah 4 than my devotional reading has yielded, but there is not less. In other words, slowing down to savor and apply a single verse, as the SOAP approach, or Lectio Divina or perhaps another method requires, is the most effective way to get our hearts saturated with the significance of Scripture.

I hope lots of listeners (and maybe a few random blog-readers) will take this journey with us. Feel free to comment as you do.

A Tough Assignment

2008-01-11T09:40:00.000-05:00

I am the world’s worst blogger.

Not sure if I’m willing to wear the title yet, but I’m in serious competition. First I ask people to “visit often” and leave comments. Then I post this thing about Pullman and the death of “God” in His Dark Materials – something many of my readers probably don’t care a whit about (but I do, so expect more of it). Then I leave it up for weeks. Geesh.

I guess I’ve figured out that I want this blog to be about four things: inspiration, information, cogitation and imagination. Each of these –ations comes to me somewhat unpredictably, and I want my blog to reflect that.

Okay, so I’ve missed some pretty good information/inspiration right? This last weekend I had the “assignment” of picking up Brandon Heath at the airport and entertaining him a bit. He wanted to meet the kids, so we took him home for a Wii tournament (man, I should blog on the Wii gaming system – it has breathed life into Martin family time). Madison destroyed him in bowling. In fact, all the kids beat him except Payton, who got taken down after four rounds boxing. Brandon’s claim to fame: his k-o of the four year old.

Then it was off to dinner (tuna, rare!) and on the show the next morning (go to The Morning Cruise site and click on As HEARD, Monday, 1.6.08 if you want to hear highlights). After the show, a really difficult part of my “assignment”: I was supposed to take Brandon sightseeing on my boat. Can you believe the hardship?

So, we launched in the bay and grabbed dockside lunch at one of our favorite haunts, rendezvousing with our buddy and Summer Cruise companion, G.T. Between Brandon, Dan Brodie and G.T., I don’t think we’ll be invited back to that particular establishment.

Dave Cruse, G.T., and Brodie had to leave (congrats on the LSU win, Dave), so that left a couple of hours to treat Brandon to some of our fine saltwater fishing here on the Gulf coast of Florida. I just happened to have two rigged spinning reels aboard, and a guy at the docks supplied us with a few live shrimp. I let Brandon drive the boat, and we ran to one of my favorite flats/channel spots. No hookups. Water temperature was a negative factor, but that didn’t stop a friendly competition from heating up, where Carmen just HAD to catch the first fish. We moved to a deep water cove and she did.

The fish was tiny, but its tale was huge. In fact, Carmen told the tale and posted a picture on our webpage. Brandon had been bested and he knew it. We packed up the poles and ran out into the Gulf to catch a truly beautiful sunset. Intense. Can God ever paint!

I have to be honest. This was no “assignment.” Brandon has become a friend, and spending a day with such friends as he, my wife, G.T., Carmen, Cruse and Brodie is no chore. This is the place where labor and love come together. We did more than supply an artist with a great P.R. trip, we made a memory with friends.

I wish we could share more such times with artists, listeners and colleagues. There is something very humanizing about play, nature and good meals. It reminded me of the reason Jesus chose a few fishermen for disciples, reclined at the table with them and enjoyed their fellowship.

Thoughts on Killing God

2007-12-07T11:00:00.000-05:00

I'm just reading the first book in Philip Pullman's "His Dark Materials" trilogy, Northern Lights. Here in the States we call it, The Golden Compass, and the New Line Cinema production with the same name will have been running by the time this blog is read.

On our morning show, we talked about the difficulty many Christians are having with various aspects of Pullman's story. I encouraged Christian parents not to just read the e-mail forwards and form conclusions based on innuendo. With that in mind, I turned to a friend who is working on a scholarly treatment of Pullman's His Dark Materials. He taught English Literature at Purdue for over 30 years, crafted a course in high fantasy and became a "Miltonist" (a specialist in the author of Paradise Lost, the work from which the phrase, "His dark materials" derives). Dr. David M. Miller spoke with me about what many Christian critics consider the most diabolical detail: the "killing of God" in book three, The Amber Spyglass.

Dr. Miller pointed out, first, that the version of God killed in the dramatic sense is "a tyrannical old man," who "I suppose welcomes death - that god is slain..." Now that, I think, is a very important detail, and one that Christians might want to get straight before they get worried that somehow Philip Pullman has managed to pull off the very thing the hordes of Hell never could. If Pullman's God-figure (the "Authority") is a caricature of the real God, then he has unwittingly portrayed the very act we must commit if we are to come to real faith.

Most of us have a de facto image of God based on our experiences, our image of earthly fathers, and stories of Zeus (Jupiter) and the mythological pantheons. Many people are hindered in their trust and love for God and their understanding of grace because their view of God is faulty. In other words, the thundering figure who is synonymous with corrupt institutions, angry dads and capricious self-interested tyrants is an idol that needs to be killed in order to make room for the God who reveals himself in creation, Scripture and supremely in Jesus Christ.

Let the pretenders be slain. Thank you Philip Pullman.

Second, Dr. Miller reminded that "what goes in (that god's) place is an important question," and the answer, I believe, entirely depends on one's worldview. Since Pullman is agnostic, we can't expect that he has killed a false god to make room for the True God. Instead, as I read on I expect to find a humanist vision in a human-centered universe. I expect that vision will be dim in volume one (muted in movie one) and more explicit in the subsequent volumes (movies). So how can Christians respond?

We must not misrepresent the facts and fall prey to another witness-defeating overreation in the name of "standing up for the faith." Instead, we should get informed and critically interact with people who might even be led to the God of Scripture indirectly by the crooked witness of Pullman's stories. I'll give the last word to the Apostle Peter, who writes in 1 Peter 3:15:

...but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect (ESV).

That kind of witness turns our paranoia in to a powerful conversation that might even lead to someone committing the kind of deicide that opens the way to true Christian faith.

Have a Holly Jolly Thanksgivemas

2007-11-30T13:40:00.000-05:00

(forthcoming in Inspire Magazine, Dec. 7, 2007)

Urban sprawl has invaded the holidays. Thanksgiving used to be a day we celebrated on the fourth Thursday of November, by Presidential proclamation. It reminded us of our godly heritage and dependence on the graciousness of others (the Wampanoag Indians, in this case). I speak in past tense, because it seems to me we no longer have room for such a simple, un-Hallmarked, non-materialist observance as Thanksgiving. Wall Street has dictated that we try to capture the “spirit” of Christmas (fourth quarter profits) earlier and earlier. With all the displays, sales and sounds of Christmas we’ve been living with these weeks, I got to thinking that maybe instead of lamenting the eclipse of Thanksgiving, what if I could find a way to make Christmas a more thanks-filled celebration?

The inspiration for my infusing the celebration of Christmas with the substance of thanksgiving is found in a psalm written by King David’s worship leader. Right in the middle of Psalm 50, a prophetic psalm of judgment, comes Asaph’s inspired refrain: “Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving, and perform your vows to the Most High, and call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me” (Psalm 50:14-15). This divine instruction finishes off a section of the psalm where God has told Israel he doesn’t need their bulls and goats (50:7-13). At the same time, God accepts their free offering of thankfulness in the form of a sacrifice (see Leviticus 7) because He still wants relationship with them .

The sacrifice of thanksgiving, like all other offerings to God, requires two things: 1) that the worshiper give an animal from his own herd or flock for the priest to slaughter before God and 2) that the offering be combined with a heartfelt change of our attitude and actions (repentance, see Romans 12:1-2). If these conditions were met, the sacrifice was acceptable to God. Even when the conditions weren’t met, though, God still allowed the formal “sacrifice of thanksgiving” to take place. Why?

There is a symbolism in sacrifice that, for me, ties together the significance of Thanksgiving and Christmas: in sacrifice an innocent animal is offered for the sins of the guilty, and that exchange is required for God to have relationship with broken, sinful worshipers like us. When we understand the grace of God in providing Jesus as the “lamb of God” (John 1:29), the one who, having been born of a virgin was “a male without defect” (Leviticus 1:3), and by whose death “we have been made holy through the sacrifice of the body of Jesus Christ once for all” (Hebrews 10:10), then we see what great lengths and depths God went to in order to love and accept us. When the reality sinks in that the blood of every innocent animal slaughtered in the Old Testament paints a picture of the Son of God suffering as our once-for-all sacrifice, then thanksgiving and Thanksgiving, and thanks-giving and Christmas come together in our hearts, and we overflow in praise.

What a tragedy and a contradiction in terms is a Christian celebrating Christmas without thanksgiving! It’s like longing for a legal but loveless marriage, like working indoors on a perfect spring afternoon, like voicing prayers to empty idols, god-less forms without any substance. Such is the culture we live in, who celebrate the shell of a holiday devoid of both meaning and praise to God. When we put thanksgiving and Christmas together, we ourselves become a living sacrifice, demonstrating God’s love to those outside. Don’t think friends and family won’t savor the aroma of a life fully devoted to God and full of thanks during this holiday season. Merry Christmas, or maybe I should say, “Merry Thanksgivemas.”

We All Get an Award

2007-11-15T13:55:00.000-05:00

I'll be posting another article-length blog soon, but I just need to say how cool it is to get a couple of comments on my first post (below)! I love the interactivity (interconnectivity, interpossibility?) of blogging. Give yourself a pat on the back, and feel free to leave comments on any area of this blog.

Carmen is in Nashville today representing us at the Radio and Records Industry award summit. We were nominated for "Personality of the Year." Click here if you want to see the page. There are some really fine folks on this page, and it's an honor to be in their company, especially for a guy whose talents in radio are meager. What put me on this page is working with Dave and Carmen, two of the best, God-called professionals in the Christian radio industry, period.

At this moment I have no idea if we won or not. And that brings me to a message I'm going to deliver at a local church this Sunday. One of the application points is that we all try to find signficance in things that cannot deliver what they promise. We all want our lives to have made a dent in this world, but as Ecclesiastes says, our life is a vapor. The only things that crease the fabric of legacy are eternal things. Only what God does through me and you will last. This is a lifelong lesson for me, not as much in radio as in other areas.

When we come to the day heaven passes out awards, the standards will be quite different from the criteria of this world. I only hope I will have given enough of my heart to things that last so as to have a crown to throw at the feet of Jesus.

Fishing Up A Storm

2007-10-17T12:48:00.000-04:00

(Originally published in Inspire Magazine, Sept. 7, 2007)

“Many fish bite if you got good bait.
Here's a little tip that I'd like to relate:
Many fish bite if you got good bait.
I'm a-goin' fishin', yes I'm goin' fishin',
And my baby's goin' fishin' too.”
(Fishin’ Blues)

My sons and I recently had a spiritual experience involving a boat, a fishing hole and gathering storm. It was near the end of a long day catching plenty of fish, but only one keeper. All day we’d been pursuing a cooler-full for the hunt. In fact, “free dinner” was one of the justifications offered to my wife when purchasing the boat, along with:

1. It’s rated for 7 passengers, like a minivan without wheels;
2. It’s not about having a toy, it’s about making memories, and
3. It could save us money on flood insurance!

Some wives deploy a counterargument (whether my wife did or not I cannot say) that runs like this: “the definition of boat is: a hole in the sea you throw money into.” That’s why I take lots of pictures of my children’s smiling faces. That’s also why I HAD to catch dinner. But the hunt had been fruitless that Saturday afternoon, until we found the spot. (“The spot” is fishermen’s lingo for that special location which an angler keeps secret and where he stores hundreds of edible fish – right; like herding cats!) We arrived at “the spot” at around 6:30 P.M. By 6:35 rods were bending and water was churning, but not just from the fish. In the east, a storm was brewing.

As we fished on, forbidding clouds rolled in like a giant claw, surrounding us and threatening us with their piercing convulsions. I forecast the number of fish needed to fill the table and decided to defy the weather for just five more minutes. By 6:40, my oldest son had landed a mangrove snapper. Finally, from the seven year old came the prize catch: a fat redfish big enough for the entrée. We had done it, but not soon enough. I had been stubborn too long, and now we would have to face the storm’s fury.

The boys hoisted the anchor. I brought the boat about and set an eastward course toward the dock and into the deepening black. We met rain, first as stinging pellets, then a seamless sheet. Rainblind dusk was split by flashes of lightning falling from the heavens like shards. Silently, I began my heavenward cries for guidance into port, and safe haven. The engine screamed as the boat raced on, buoyed by prayer. The boys hunkered down.

The ordeal seemed stretched out, time passing slower as the storm accelerated. By the clock the race was over by 6:55 – a mere quarter-hour stand against nature. Safe inside the familiar confines of my SUV, we laughed and began boasting about our victory. Boasting gave way to a serious moment: “Boys, were you scared? What did you do?” The reply came in chorus, without prompting: “We prayed like crazy for God’s mercy!” Suddenly, like lightning a father’s foolishness was transformed into a providential lesson. My children had responded to the storm, not as flimsy sons of the world, but as Christian soldiers.

I realized in that moment that, unplanned by me, there were more fish caught that day than the prey in my boat’s livewell. Jesus told Peter and Andrew, fishermen, "Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men" (Matthew 4:19). Indeed, while I was leading an aquatic expedition, scratching for my dinner table, Jesus was using the whole experience to create an existential exercise for genuine biblical faith. When young boys spontaneously pray and get their theology right, the world is amazed (see Luke 2:47). When we cry out to God in the storm, he answers (see Luke 8:24). The children knew all this as they cried to the sovereign God of mercy. In that circumstance, the dinner-table devotions and Sunday school lessons paid off. In a moment when life’s prize was not just fish, but real trust in the God who can bring us safely home, the conquered spoils of a fishing trip were cashed in to become the currency of real faith.