Author: winncollier

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The Challenge of Easter {introduction}

The Apostle Paul famously said that if Jesus did not raise from the dead, our “faith is futile.” (I Corinthians 15:17)

Interesting, isn’t it, that Paul did not say that if Jesus had never been born or if Jesus had never lived a perfect life or if Jesus had never gone to the cross (though perhaps he could have said any of these) — our faith is absolutely and utterly pointless. Rather, for Paul, everything hinged on the shattering moment when Mary Magdalene ran to the tomb and amid her tears and sorrow found a tomb empty as empty can be.

For those of us who actually believe this preposterous, unlikely story, we hear the apostle and we might wonder why exactly everything (everything) hangs on this reality. For those of us who dismiss this preposterous, unlikely story, we may hear the apostle and think, “well, sounds about right, all of it is rubbish.”

Wherever we might be, how about reading along and thinking along with us this Easter season. For the first five Mondays of Easter, we will have a different guide reflect on that weeks chapter from Bishop N.T. Wright’s The Challenge of Easter. Five weeks. Five chapters. Five voices.

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Silent Saturday: The Last Day of Lent

Lent draws to a close. For those who haven’t participated in the Lenten Twitter posts, here are a few from the past couple of weeks.

Ponder. Wait. Sit in these silent hours. Joy comes in the morning.

|Good Friday|
The darkest darkness settles over all the kingdoms of men. God has murdered himself.

Sin is shalom-breaking. 
{Cornelius Plantiga}


The Psalms act as good psychologists. They defeat our tendency to try to be holy without being human first. {Kathleen Norris}


Repentance spends less time looking at the past and saying “I’m sorry,” than to the future and saying, “Wow!” {Frederich Buechner}

One is changed by what one loves. {Joseph Brodsky}

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Faux Community

In The Villages, Florida, a well-funded developer has created a planned community unprecedented in vision and scope. The Villages has been created to look historic, look quaint, look pristine. With fake historical plaques, fake railroad tracks, ubiquitous golf carts that look like Bentleys and Mini-Coopers and a population engineered to weed out the undesirables (in this case, the young whipper-snappers), The Villages population has exploded, from 8,000 to 80,000 in ten years.

Here are a few snippets from the recent NPR story:

But history means something different in The Villages. The whole place was built in a year or so, Blechman says. But it has made-up history, including a man-made lake, which is supposed to be 100 years old with a lighthouse, and two manufactured downtowns that were themed by entertainment specialists from Universal Studios…

Everything’s owned by the developer,” he says. “The government is owned by the developer. Everything’s privatized – and they’re happy with that. You know, they’ve traded in the ballot box for the corporate suggestion box.

I don’t fault anyone residing in The Villages for wanting an energetic, beautiful space for spending their golden years with friends, and I’m sure that there is much about life at The Villages to commend it. However, this is a sorrowful ode to our longing for community – we are so desperate for community that we will create a plastic version of it if we must, just to get some modicum of the real thing.

Truthfully, I think that many of us have done the same in our churches. We have put together structures and groups and hang out the shingles that say “community.” If we’re honest with ourselves, though, we have quite a facade going, and we’re shriveling up inside. We’re The Truman Show.

There is no way to get the real thing without the mess. You can’t build much of anything genuine overnight, no matter how well-funded or polished or comprehensive your master plan might be. I can’t discover a lifelong friendship without the mess and mingle of odd-hour coffees, shared experiences, boring seasons, weddings and funerals and long stretches where nothing of any consequence is happening – nothing other than living in the middle of another person’s life, and them in mine.

As one resident said, “Golf carts should look like golf carts.” Amen, sister.

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Guides for our Easter Readings

I am eager for Easter, eager for life. I’m very much looking forward to reading and chatting about N.T. Wright’s The Challenge of Easter here with you. If you haven’t purchased your copy yet, you still can, really. We will discuss chapter one here on Monday – and you can read it in about 15 minutes. 

The Challenge of EasterAlso, Andrew and Tmamome, you won the drawing and haven’t sent me your address. If you still want your copy, let me know ASAP.
One of the things I’m most eager about is having other voices helping us to make this a shared, communal conversation. Each of them will offer a post on one of the chapters (each Monday, beginning this Monday), and I want to introduce them to you.
Nathan Elmore | nathan is a true cohort. He and I worked side by side, dreaming and scheming, in Clemson, SC for almost three years. In those years, he became a brother. He is a man who knows how to properly use the power of metaphor (and that’s saying something). Nathan sees truth (and questions) in things as diverse as fine vino and Jack Black. Nathan doesn’t blog, but (and I’m still processing this) he twitters.
Juli Kalbaugh | juli is the first artist who made me cry because of the beauty and power of her painting. She wrestles hard, loves hard, hopes hard. She and her hubby Corey have been part of our life / family for years and years – and will be for years to come. In fact, they are living with us right now, which is quite a hoot. Juli blogs @ evening soultide.
John Blase | john is the best friend I have that I’ve never actually met. We’ve only connected through the digital reality (in fact, I’m not even sure I’ve ever heard his voice on the phone), but I will tell you this – John and I are kindred spirits. He is my kind of man, my kind of writer. John blogs @ the dirty shame.
Miska Collier | miska is a woman with a fierce heart; she is, in fact – and in every way – the best woman I know. She is a pastor and spiritual director in our little community (All Souls Charlottesville), and when I need to encounter hope or life or Jesus, Miska is very often God’s voice for me. There are people who we say have helped make us who we are – well, I firmly believe that, when my days are done, most of what God will have allowed me to be/say/do will trace its way back to the gift God gave me in Miska.  Miska blogs (but only often enough to make us all feel like she is a tease) @ for the sweet love of god.
Justin Scott | justin is a man of many amazing talents: bangs the keyboard like Ben Folds, opines like David Brooks and works electrical wizardry like someone very famous and electrical-wizardly, but since I know nothing about that field I’m drawing a blank. One of my joys over the last ten years has been watching Justin and Erin step into their place in this world. Justin blogs @ guesswork theory. 
Will you add your voice too? I hope you will. 
The Resurrection really is the center point in this whole story the Gospel is telling. As Jeroslav Pelikan said, “If Jesus rose from the dead, nothing else matters; and if Jesus didn’t rise from the dead, nothing else matters.” 
I wonder if that might be so – and if yes, why? Let’s imagine together…
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A Blessing for Death

This week…
May you gather up everything that you cling to
     as if your life depends on it…

Your reputation, your energy,
     your creativity,
Your business skills, your beauty,
     your contrary nature.
Your fear and your skepticism
     and your greed.
Your story.
Your hurts.
Your hopes.
Your desires that have turned into
     demands.
Those things you hide from others,
And those things you judge others by.

May you gather up these things –
     and everything
     that holds you back from being free…
Your caution that someone may do you wrong.
Your concern that you may get it wrong.
Your haunting fear that God may be wrong.
And in a defiant, courageous, child-like act,
May you fling them all aside –
And run to Jesus
And walk with Jesus to the Cross.
And die.
And then wait in death’s dark tomb.
Wait in death’s dark tomb.
Wait…for Resurrection to break in.

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My Friend Raul

Some people leave you feeling more lonely after you were with them than when you were by yourself. We all have too many of those people in our life. Most of us are dying to be seen, known.

I have a small cadre of friends, a handful really, that knows me – all the stuff that makes me me, good and bad. One of these friends is Raul Cruz. I first met him in Denver in the summer of 2001. That night, he introduced me to the tunes of Santana (being a soulful Puerto Rican and a smashing musician, he has led me to many Latin musical delights over the years), and I also had my one experience at a high-end cigar bar. Something melded our hearts, and we’ve been soul friends ever since.

Raul called me this morning, offering me a gift. “Winn, I love who you are – I’m you’re biggest fan.” Who does that?

Raul does. It is not uncommon for me to find a voice mail from Raul, saying he loves me or is looking forward to when we see each other again. One rough morning, I checked my messages and heard Raul’s voice praying a prayer of blessing over me, my life, my family. It was beautiful. I probably cried – or I should have.

I love Raul’s family, his amazing wife Tara and the rest of the clan, Lydia and Liam. Miska and I love being with Raul and Tara – and Raul is the kind of dad I want to be when I have teenagers (and what’s cool is that I can say these same things of several of my friends).

I’ve seen Raul awash in tears. I’ve been with him as he was curled up, like a baby, on the floor in pain. He has held me and hugged me (and even kissed me – I told you he was Puerto Rican, right? No sense whatsoever of personal space) when I’ve been in the darkest places. I’ve cussed at him, and he’s cussed at me. We’ve hiked together and biked together and laughed and cried. The thing is, he’s my brother. And we (and our families) are going to grow old together. I’m just hoping for the day when we live on the same block. Maybe when we are old geezers, the guys with worn-out plaid jackets who shuffle to the park to smoke our pipes and play chess.

Before Raul hung up today, he added, “I feel like I should tell you – whatever you are doing today, it isn’t as urgent as you think.” His words struck home. Words from a friend.

Like John Lennon, “I get by with a little help from my friends.”

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The Gospel According to Biff

Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal by Christopher Moore (3.5 Stars)

Moore has one of the sharpest, steadiest wits I’ve read. I laughed out loud more in this book than I have in a very long time, probably since Sedaris’ Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim. Moore’s sarcasm is potent, which makes sense – apparently his character Biff invented sarcasm.

However, at times the book drug on for me. The last 80 pages felt a bit like he was just trying to rush to finish, and I was okay with that – I kinda wanted to be done.

This may be the most irreverent book I’ve read, and if you are a person of Christian faith and don’t have space for laughing at ourselves or just wondering what an alternate story might be like (or are uneasy with some seedy scenes), then you should steer clear. But if you want to read a humor writer who will actually make you laugh – and consistently – then you can’t go wrong.

On the faith note, one more thought – Moore intuitively gets it, that Jesus was a person of compassion and justice who would subvert every sort of earthly power. We all seem to know that Jesus was a revolutionary.

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Easter Book Conversation

The Challenge of EasterEaster is coming, thank God. In Charlottesville, spring has tempted us the past couple days – downtown and the parks have come alive. I know that Lent has not finished its work with me (does it ever, really?)

I’ve been thinking for a while about some new directions I’d like to take my blog, more on that later. However, here’s something I want to do with you right away. For Easter (remember, it’s a season, not a day – it’s 50 days, in fact), I’d like to have a conversation here on resurrection and what it might mean for us in this crazy world and life we are all finding our way through. To facilitate this, I’d like us to read a book together, The Challenge of Easter by N.T. Wright. It’s only 60-odd pages, 5 chapters we would read over 5 weeks. This book is a more digestible version of his work, The Challenge of Jesus (which is in turn a more digestible version his tome, Jesus and the Victory of God).

Here’s what I propose: each Monday of Easter, let’s gather here and discuss one of the chapters. We can react and dream and rant and laugh and basically revel in resurrection. What do you say? The best part may be this – I’ve already recruited 5 different voices to guide one of the weeks of our conversation. So, this is going to be interactive, diverse and hopefully – full of imagination. I want questions, thoughts, disappointments, fears, joy – let’s see where it takes us.

I’d love to know who is in. The book is $6, and you can read the whole thing in less than two hours. Personally, I’d like to spend as much purpose walking into Easter (life) as I have spent walking into Lent (death). So, are you in?

p.s. If 10 of you let me know (in the comment section) that you are on board, I’ll draw a name for a free copy. If 15 of you jump in by Monday, two people will get a free copy. Look for the winner Monday in the comments section.

p.s.s. If you have a blog, perhaps consider getting some of your tribe in on the conversation too.

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Skylight and Starlight

Well, I’m typing this on a bus, the Starlight Express from New York City back to Charlottesville. Did you get that – on a bus! Yet another technological wonder. I was at a conference, but I needed to come home early – our house is full of sick people.

I wanted to share this piece (interview, really) I did with Kate Barton and Skylight Studios. Juli Kalbaugh (our friend, painter and current housemate) works with Kate @ Skylight.

The conference I’m leaving and this piece I’m sharing have a common theme: the hope and belief that art can (should) do good and make our world more beautiful. I’d like to say more about it, but I’m running out of electrical juice on my laptop – and that is one technological feat that has yet to be conquered. But my friend Andrew Albers is working on it…

But what about you? Any art that has made your world more beautiful?

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