Review of Honoring God in Red or Blue: Approaching Politics with Humility, Grace and Reason

Author: Dr. Amy E. Black

Recommended for: Anyone wanting a well-rounded view of American politics / politics & faith

Read from September 29 to October 05, 2012
208 pages

What got me into this book was my concern over the lacuna of Christian voices showing civility in American public discourse. It is easy to find examples of strident, unloving and even damaging rhetoric parroted by people of faith who genuinely care about the direction of the country. Christians seem to have little trouble stating convictions on issues, but we rarely articulate those convictions effectively. We often sound our victim-whines, complaining that we feel shut out from political power. And we are, too often, silenced by our own ignorance or clumsiness. After a quick scan, I judged that Honoring God in Red or Blue would echo my concerns and address them.

Amy Black, a Wheaton professor with an M.I.T. doctorate in political science and experience as a Congressional Fellow, speaks directly to fellow Christians in an encouraging tone, educating and informing her audience on the basics of American government and politics without condescending. Though much of the book covers what we should have learned in Civics 101, Dr. Black's explanations target adults who need not just reminding, but refocusing. Part 1 reviews the reasons for political involvement, the relationship between religion and politics and the purpose and limits of government. This section alone makes the book worth reading, especially for those who may be expecting too much from a system that was designed to work slowly, through compromise rather than through tyranny of anyone's platform or party.

"Black and white" may be helpful stereotypes for categorizing moral issues, but those absolute categories do not realistically reflect the process of politics. Dr. Black counsels, "It is possible to stand on Christian convictions and still make compromises." Honoring God in Red or Blue advocates active political involvement, but as a means of demonstrating love in action rather than sanctioning lust for power in the name of Christ. Listening, humility, respect and informed action are the means through which Christians may pursue a better society.

After giving a primer on the roles of local,state and federal government in Part 2, which also features a helpful discussion of the relationship between church and state, the book explores the question of how faith and politics may interact. (Part 3 is the "how to" section.) How have various faith traditions interacted with the state? How do we disagree peacefully, and what if Christians have serious political disagreements? The author unpacks her core premise here--that humility and respect are necessary for fruitfulness in political involvement--and applies it to how we tackle debate and disagreement over the "hard issues," things about which we may have a common goal but a different solution than our opponents. The book highlights the issue of poverty as an illustration, offering several plausible solutions that may differ, yet be acceptable within a Christian worldview.

The final few chapters offer a helpful analysis of political campaigning and informed voting.

Throughout Honoring God in Red or Black, the author speaks with a voice that is as non-partisan and ideologically dispassionate. This stance results in a guide that is practical and informative. Sidebars on how to understand statistics, how to fact-check, the rise of the Tea Party, separation of church and state, etc. add to the book's value. Yet for all these strengths, a significant weakness of Honoring God in Red or Black is its failure to build a strong enough biblical and theological foundation to support a positive Christian vision, one that does not detract from the author's core assumptions, but takes them and goes farther and deeper in seeking to redeem what is broken in American society and politics. The principle of love is too broad. Even humility and respect are not enough.

While American Christians need Christian character if we are to effectively engage in the political sphere, we also need a philosophy that embraces and applies the Great Commission (Matt. 28:18-20) as discipleship of "the nations," the Great Commandment (Luke 10:27) as loving God as well as neighbor,and the cultural mandate (Gen. 1:26-28). Core biblical assumptions like these have implications for respecting life AND the environment, for upholding the design of marriage AND not hating or fearing others who do not agree but are also made in God's image--moral and societal issues that require a greater prophetic voice from the church, yet not absent love and respect. Such a developed, positive political philosophy may be beyond the scope of this book. Still, Honoring God in Red or Blue provides sane, useful and faithful counsel and wisdom for those who want to be involved and make a difference in a pluralistic culture that is desperate for clarity and sanity.

Someone (Worth?) Dying For

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

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

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

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:

1. 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.”
   
   
2. 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.

   
   
3. 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

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

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

(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

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

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.


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

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)

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)

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

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?

"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

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.