Missional Living

It’s probably not what you think.

A few days ago, retired Christian recording artist Ray Boltz came out of the closet, announcing his homosexuality. (His website, btw, is having a pretty huge clearance sale. Interpret that how you wish.) “This is what it really comes down to,” he says in a CT interview. “If this is the way God made me, then this is the way I’m going to live. It’s not like God made me this way and he’ll send me to hell if I am who he created me to be … I really feel closer to God because I no longer hate myself.”

On his official website he says: 

"A few years ago I made the decision to retire from contemporary Christian music. I had won awards, performed in front of thousands of people, and sold millions of records. Still, I believed that if people knew who I really was, I would never be accepted."

The tragedy is that within a community of believers, genuine authenticity is not accepted. That, for all our talk of ‘community’, we have to still hide our struggles and pains beneath the veneer of success.

The tragedy is while Ray Boltz struggled in sin, and received unmerited grace to write beautiful songs, the Christian community will yet again throw him to the wolves. (Michael English, anyone? Sandi Patti? Amy Grant?)

The tragedy is that songs that once brought a sense of awe and reverence to the Church will now become the punchline in a joke.

The comedy? That the enemy will have a field day watching as believers debate and fight over the Scriptures, slander each other, and condemn and accuse the other side of neo-liberalism or fundamentalism. No. Wait….that’s another Tragedy.

Ray Boltz will stand before our Abba one day to give an account of his life.

So will you.

No doubt, homosexuality is still sin. But I believe the grace that covers my USAmerican sin of gluttony, consumption, pride and hypocrisy is big enough to cover his sin as well. If not, we are all in trouble.

Matthew 11:28-30 (The Message) reads:

"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly."

Pray for Ray Boltz. And pray for me, too. We still need Jesus.

Thoughts?

I hadn’t heard it in a while, but yesterday I caught Dave Matthews’ "Grace Is Gone" again for the 2000th time. As I sang along, I caught myself fighting back tears. Why?

Because I’m a wuss. Because it’s one of my all-time favorite tunes. Because, even though it’s debated whether the song is about the death of his father or the loss of a girlfriend, I still deeply relate to death and loss. Because I resonate with the song’s lyrics  such as this: 

"I could never love again so much as I love you
Where you end where I begin is like a river going through
Take my heart, my eyes cuz I need them no more
If never again they fall upon the one I so adore"

It’s a beautiful lament of loss and love. I can picture him at the end of the bar with a broken heart and a crushed spirit, pleading with the bartender, "Excuse me, please, one more drink…could you make it strong cuz I don’t need to think…"

It’s raw and honest and painful and nearly hopeless… which is why I love it. And it’s why I struggle with a lot of the sanitized worship we (I) sing most of the time.

In my experiences with God’s refining process (and life in general), there are plenty of times when a good lament is in order. The death of friends. The struggle of Kingdom living. The weight of sin on my every step. Yes, God is good. Yes, better days are ahead. Yes, we shall overcome. But many times the ‘now’ is hard and, although our Hope has come, we still live in the ‘now’.

So where are our songs of lament? Where are our worship tunes that dig deep into the emotion of struggle and pain and hurt that lead us to our Emmanuel Who brings us Hope? Where are our blues? Sometimes, in my personal worship, my heart is not ready for How Great Is Our God (although He is…), and I fear that by always beating that particular drum, we are missing out on another equally great proclamation: that God is great even in suffering. That He understands our feelings of near hopelessness and helplessness. Our crushed expectations and dreams. That, somehow, when we pour out our raw, unfiltered pain at His feet… he heals us in the midst of it all. He doesn’t take us out of it…but walks with us through it. 

And therein lies the beauty.

Is it acceptable to have worship songs of lament? If so, where are they? Why do they not exist? Are we so ‘in the bubble’ that we’ve become anesthetized to real life hurts and struggles and simply continue holding hands and singing our Pie-in-the-Sky songs, hoping that if we sing them enough…we’ll eventually believe them?

Don’t know the song? Watch the video.

I’ve just seen this video and am pretty speechless. It’s funny how great art can move you deeply even though you’re pretty sure you don’t get it all just yet. From the under-acclaimed Iron and Wine, you HAVE to experience Boy With A Coin. It was something I completely didn’t see coming…

Boy With a Coin
A boy with a coin he found in the weeds
With bullets and pages of trade magazines
Close to a car that flipped on the turn
When God left the ground to circle the world

A boy with a coin he crammed in his jeans
Then making a wish he tossed in the sea
Walked to a town that all of us burn
When God left the ground to circle the world

So now I have a host of questions about the images of God that Beam uses in his song/video. What was the bird? The image that ‘God made her eyes for crying at birth…then left the ground…’. What town do ‘all of us burn’? Does he interpret tragedy as God’s uninvolvement in the world? Or is it merely society’s indictment of God’s seeming uninvolvement and Beam’s expression of God’s complete involvement and leadership despite the failures and futility of organized religion?

This may take a while. I could ramble on about it, but I’d rather get your impressions and thoughts.

And if you’re not already familiar with Iron and Wine, go here.

Since I was a freshmen in high school, I’ve loved Dan Fogelberg. (No, it wasn’t ALL hair metal…). Same Old Lang Syne and The Leader of the Band weren’t just songs on the radio–they were experiences. And years later, they still take me back to that freeze-frame moment they created. In fact, I’m a sap: I only listen to Lang Syne at certain times because the place it takes me to is almost sacred.

Fogelberg, 56, died today after an almost 4 year bout with prostate cancer.  Our thoughts and prayers go out to his wife, Jean, and his famly and friends. A guy I would have loved to have known better, he loved the tonal qualities and subtle range of the acoustic guitar. He loved to laugh and abuse the English language. He loved rock and roll. He always thought he’d quit the music business..but never the music. He was blessed with the never-ending gift/curse of music. And wasn’t cool enough for MTV. And he defined success as having just one person listen to his work and say, "Wow! Thanks for writing that!"

"we tried to reach beyond the emptiness, but neither one knew how…"

Wow! Thanks for writing that.

Here’s a live video to take us back.

It’s the story of a mother who gave birth to a son. And the son who holds the fate of the world in his hands.

Her name is Sarah. Not Mary.

I gotta admit, there’s only about two shows on television I watch with any commitment, so when the announcement came that my one-of-two favorite shows, Heroes, would NOT be aired beginning in January, I fell into a panic.

But God is good. FOX announced the upcoming Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles.

 After viewing several trailers online, you’ll see why this one is my favorite.

If you want more of the plotline, watch this.

Over at The Refinery, there’s, hopefully, a great discussion brewing on the video below. It’s Unkle’s Rabbit in Your Headlights vid (sung by Thom York of Radiohead). It’s a little disturbing to watch, but the payoff at the end is fantastic.

If you’re familiar at all with Thom Yorke, or Radiohead in general, you know that he is an immaculate artist you must acclimate to. You don’t jump off the bridge and immediately find yourself scuba diving in the ocean depths without a careful, deliberate descent. And not without acquiring a taste and appreciation for the depths in which he swims.

Watch the video.

Then go HERE to get in on the discussion. You’ll be surprised, I think, to find yourself shedding the things that harm us most….

If you know anything about me, you know that music continues to be a major part of my existence on this little rock. It can express more in 3.5 minutes than many evangelists I know. It can elevate, inspire, energize, …or bring tears. I don’t subscribe to the idea of ‘christian’ music vs. ’secular’ music, because most people, IMO, really mean ‘christian lyrics’ when they have that conversation (i.e. does the song actually say ‘Jesus’? Or is he singing about a girl? And to me, that’s a little….stupid. But that’s for another converstation if you want it.)

But how many times have I been involved in leading worship and the music was just awful? How many times have I played somewhere and felt like I completely bombed…only to have someone genuinely say they were really touched? I’ve even seen the great EJ perform several times, the first of which he admittedly had a ‘very off night’….but his off night changed the way I approach my guitar playing.

Several of us in By Design have commented that when we blow it musically, people still connect with God through the Spirit. I can feel horrible about the musicianship of a worship experience, yet our students and adults still connect with the Living God. Does that give me license to slack off? No way. Do I settle for mediocrity? No way.

In an interview with Guitar World 17 years ago, Joe Satriani said this:

"Maybe what the audience really hears is what the music is triggering inside of them, as opposed to what’s actually happening on tape or onstage. The music is a catalyst for the internal music that each person experiences, as opposed to sitting back and taking in all the notes…"

I think ‘Ol Satch is on to something there. While we do, in fact, take in notes, lyrics, rythm, meter, etc. as it’s presented, music is the emotive catalyst to our internal rhythms. It connects. It speaks. It moves. It stirs the pot. And what I feel and experience goes much deeper than what I hear. Experience is in no way limited to my five external senses, but also must include the sum total of my perception–everything from my family experiences to personal struggles to the simple fact that I skipped lunch. It’s much more holistic than that.

The beauty is that the Spirit uses all of those things to connect me to something huge. Tangible yet intangible. Vast yet intimate. Universal but Unique. It’s what helps me ’see through the glass darkly’. Can anyone else relate?

While my iPod was running through some background music at work yesterday, my ears picked up on a little gem I didn't know I had. And it (gasp!) made me cry like a 14-year-old girl watching the last episode of Gilmore Girls.

Once in a while, I run across art that moves me to tears. In it's simplicity, it's profound and life-changing. I know that song lyrics make horrible poetry. And I also know that, by themselves, they are a terrible representation of the whole of an art project like a song–they are dry, hollow, and lifeless usually. Nevertheless, if you aren't familiar with The Almost or their latest album….shame on you. Their vocals are haunting and will linger in your soul long after you've moved on. Maybe the lyrics to this amazingly simple song will mean something to you and you'll check it out. 

Hello, I swear I won't be too long
Hello, I promise I'll be real strong
Wait up, I just wanna tell you
Hold up, why are you still here?

Jesus, Jesus

There's something about your name

Master, Saviour, Jesus

I've been dirtier than you wanna know

I've left earlier than you'll ever know

Jesus, Jesus

How awesome and profound. "Hey, Jesus. Just FYI….I've been dirtier than you probably really want to know. And I'm not sure I understand why you're spreading your arms out like that…but there's something about your Name that draws me a little closer…" How many times have I felt that way! It's not my exposed sin that keeps me from God, but the hidden sin in my life (that's not really hidden from God anyway…) that is my struggle. After all the years of trying to follow Him, be like Him, understand Him, it keeps occurring to me that I just don't have as much of a clue as I like to think. And in my smug, religious piety, He draws me even closer. And as I'm drawn in, I begin to realize how much I still don't know about Him. 

Admittedly, I like to think I understand a lot about God. I enjoy a lot of the current conversations people deem 'important' in our culture today. Theological, homiletical, hermeneutical, exegetical, missional, relevant, reformed, liberal, conservative, complementarian, egalitarian, open source, predestined, ad nauseum.

Big freakin' deal.  He loves me…dirty and all. Now that's something worth talking about.

Today's quote is officially blognapped from my brother's site exactly one month and one day ago. I've been hanging on to this little gem, and today it becomes glaringly obvious that now is the day it is destined to be posted here (all you Calvinists will be pleased… )

No matter how corrupt, greedy, and heartless our government, our corporations, our media, and our religious and charitable institutions become, the music will still be wonderful. If I should ever die, God forbid, let this be my epitaph:

-Kurt Vonnegut (1922-2007) 

Rise up.

Gather 'round.

Rock this place to the ground…and remember: it's better to burn out than fade away.

At least that's the gospel according to Joe Elliot, lead singer for Def Leppard, arena big-hair rockers from across the pond that helped mold my young skull of mush when I was 14. Pyromania changed my life…and gave me a new place to belong.

Before then, my brother and I loved building models. Cars. F14 fighter planes. Battleships. Sherman tanks. Even a 1965 Shelby GT 350. Glue. Paint. Decals you had to cut out and soak in water. We'd spend 6 months building and collecting them. Hanging them from the ceiling. Putting them on our shelves. Then fireworks season would roll around. 

My grandad owned a fireworks stand and Shae and I would come work it. In return, he gave us free fireworks. Bottle rockets (the good kind). Chasers. Roman Candles. Boxes of Black Cat firecrackers and Lady Fingers. We'd take our previous six months of tanks, ships, planes, cars, etc., and turn the gravel driveway into a war zone of epic proportions. We'd spend one hour demolishing what we'd created in the last six months. It was freakin' awesome. My mom couldn't understand why. Because, in January, we'd start building again–we had to get ready for July 4th!

As a kid I loved watching that stuff burn. It was better to see them burn up and burn out than to fade away…and fade from interest. But as a student minister, I've seen way too many guys and girls in ministry burn out…guys who were on the camp speaker circuit get caught up in extra-marital affairs, musicians and worship leaders whose lives become dominated by greed or lust, and even wise, godly men and women who sacrifice their families on the altar of ministry and…burn up.  

Many of you know I started training a few months ago for the Austin Half Marathon. A few weeks back, I had to sit out for over 3 weeks due to an IT band issue, so I'm pretty far behind on my mileage. Taking time to 'rest' was hard. Especially when your heart is to be out hitting the pavement. But rest is essential on our journey. Rest is recreation and re-creation. It is NOT better to burn out than fade away.

Plastic models should burn up.

Roman Candles should burn out.

You and I should not.  Today, two men in my church told me I needed rest before I reached 'terminal velocity'. On Monday, a deacon in my church told me that I looked really tired. I should probably take their advice, huh? 

But right now I gotta get back to finishing up plans for our big weekend tomorrow…pass the Monster.