God, you are with us, in our comings and our goings. We need you today. We needed you yesterday. We will need you tomorrow. The future is before us. It energizes us, and it terrifies us. Move ahead of us. Propel us by your Gospel mission. Make your name great. Amen
Want to Join My Book Club?
Move over, Oprah. A new book club is in town.
I thought it would be fun to see if anyone wanted to read along with me. We’ll try it this month and see how it goes. The choices for May are:
[fiction] G.K. Chesterton’s The Man Who Was Thursday: A Nightmare. Chesterton has entranced Miska as of late. I’m jumping on the bandwagon too. You probably know Chesterton best for his classic Orthodoxy or from the fact that he was a major influence on C.S. Lewis. Chesterton called this piece of his work “a very melodramatic sort of moonshine.” I’ve never tasted moonshine; I’m in.
[theological] N.T. Wright’s Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection and the Mission of the Church. Right now, Wright is a fellow making a deep impact on my mind and soul. I was able to have a long chat with him last week (more on that to come). This book will bend some categories, I think. However, it pushes us back to Scripture and expands our vision of the radical restoration God is doing in his world. This is no cold, theological meandering on the theoretical state of heaven. This is gritty, real-world, hopeful stuff.
So, we’ll convene in a month to reflect on the works. I’d love to know if you are joining me – shoot me an email or a comment to let me know you’re in on the fun. Or not. You can just surprise me.
Tuesday Strolls
Most every Tuesday morning, Nathan Elmore (my pastor-partner @ dcf) and I take a stroll on Clemson’s campus. We make sure everyone is getting to class on time, and we count how many orange t-shirts we see.
Since we are pastors, we also tr
y to do Jesus-kinds of stuff on our walks. As we make our way across Bowman Field and weave our way among the bricked buildings of learning, we pause here and there to heal the sick, cast out demons and give alms to the poor. It’s our Tuesday routine.
Today was particularly beautiful. Crisp air. Bright Sunshine. There were a few more grimacing faces than usual – it’s finals week. But the conversation with Nathan was good, stimulating, genuine.
I am struck by how much I am going to miss these walks, this friend.
Oh, the Irony
I didn’t know it was coming today, but I knew it would soon. Each year, about this time, I receive a large box of goodies, a cornucopia of marketing kitsch, from a high octane Christian ministry conference. I can appreciate novelty as much as the next guy, but I have to tell you that this annual overload has begun to annoy me.
In past years, we received slinkys and rubix cubes and playing cards and the “world’s largest conference brochure,” just to name a few of the many curios. And all of this arrives via the United States Postal Service in a rather large box, with i
mpressive, slick packaging. The cardboard alone will make a sizable dent in our recycle container, not to mention all the wrappers and paper inserts and mounds of packing peanuts (which would actually be quite nifty if they were real peanuts and provided a snack) and assorted plastic toys.
Irony: this package arrives on Earth Day, of all days. Today, our local paper (in rural South Carolina, mind you) unveils it’s slimmed down, environmentally friendly format, a nod to sustainability, while my Christian friends send me trinkets by the pound.
The materials, the postage, the glitz. I’m no sourpuss, truly. But, somehow, I just find myself opening up their hefty package intended to entice me to register for their event and asking myself, really?
Now what would snag my attention is if one year they sent me a well-designed info packet (and they could even throw in a (one) comic book or a (one) pair of X-ray glasses if they wanted) and told me that the $5 per box they were saving would be spent on HIV meds in Africa or elementary school books in El Salvador or even to pay the way for other pastors to join the fun. Then – I might consider registering. That might be a conference that would speak to the questions I’m asking. That might be a conference where I would think I might find encouragement for the life I sense God urging me toward: simplicity.
All that said, these people are very smart and care ever bit as much as me (probably more) about truth and the gospel and have obviously fielded these sniping questions a million times (sorry). Certainly, I am not implying that they don’t care about issues of justice – quite the opposite, this conference has a fantastic reputation for leveraging its influence for such causes. And, of course, I contribute to excess myself in a thousand ways, all the time. Any charge of hypocrisy could be easily supported, I’m sure. I’m certainly not arguing for squelching creativity or arguing against lavish expressions of grace and faith. I guess I’m just reflecting on how this particular campaign strikes me (it is my blog after all) – and I’m hoping at least that in their marketing brainstorming sessions, they are asking more (better?) questions than: [1] Can we afford it? [2] Does it work?
Anything done in the name of Jesus deserves better questions than that.
Other good questions might be: What is actually communicated through this medium of marketing? What tone does this set for the way we envision the gospel when we gather for our conference? What kind of aesthetic does this build?
You know, I assume they have asked more (better) questions, I really do. Maybe they have simply arrived at different conclusion than I would have. Good enough for me. This is simply my opportunity to ask the questions myself. In my writing and my loving, in the way I promote my art and in the way I talk about God’s kingdom, what am I communicating in the way I approach it? what tone am I setting for how I envision the gospel? how does my action join God’s intent to make his world beautiful?
Excuse me, now, I’m going to make another run with the slinky down the stairs – it’s quite a kick.
~Winn
Holy Curiosity
This, my friends, is an exciting day. Today, I’m giddy because I am able to unveil to you the cover for my new book, Holy Curiosity: Encountering Jesus’ Provocative Questions. I’m excited about this book. Though it follows a different style, it is in some respects a sequel to Restless Faith. In Restless, I allowed myself space for brutal honesty about some of my questions for God. In Holy Curiosity, I interact with the strange sensation I met when
I discovered that God had a few questions for me.
Touring Jesus’ many conversations, I was intrigued with how many times, rather than offering answers or launching instructions, Jesus posed a friend or a stranger a question. Often, too, the question was not merely some rhetorical device but it was asked because Jesus was genuinely curious what was in someone’s soul.
Jesus with questions? God in the flesh – curious?
I’ll be sharing more about the book along the way. Baker won’t release it until the Fall, and so you might actually get tired of hearing about it. I’ll have some plans for how to purchase it so we can get the most impact on its release day. Stay tuned.
A Conversation on Art
Recently, I met Jake Dockter. He’s an artist, and he’s researching for a book project on art and faith. Recently, we had a conversation where he asked a number of thought provoking questions around that topic. I posted some of the conversation over on Relevant, if you are interested.
Remembering MLK
We drove into Memphis, Tennessee last night, this old south city where some of our family live. Memphis is always bristling with activity and life. Blues clubs on Beale Street. World famous BBQ. Tonight, Memphis plays UCLA in the Final Four, so that adds to the mix.
However, this weekend, Memphis (and the nation) mourns one of our darkest and most tragic days. Forty years ago, yesterday, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was gunned down by a sniper as he stood on the third floor balcony of the Lorraine M
otel.
About two years ago, I spent a morning in downtown Atlanta visiting the house where King grew up and sitting in the sanctuary of Ebenezer Baptist Church listening to recorded sermons King preached. The day spent in King’s world profoundly moved me. It moved me because I realized how disconnected I had been from this violent scar in our nation’s history. I knew the story. I was ashamed of our racist past – but I hadn’t really allowed the evil of it all to truly weigh on me.
The experience also moved me because I was inspired and honored to be immersed in the life and memory of a man who deeply believed in human dignity and justice and who had the courage to stand against the Powers in order to speak out for the oppressed. I was haunted by this question: What side would I have been on if I had been alive during the Civil Rights struggle?
I don’t the answer. I pray to God I would have been on the side of those who resisted both the visible and subtle ways that our culture demeaned and subjected fellow human beings created in God’s image. But, truthfully, I don’t know.
I don’t know, in part, because the whole affair raises the memory of one of my deep regrets. In college, I had an African American roommate (a fabulous soccer player by the way) who began to allow me into his world, sharing parts of his story, little bits of what it was like to grow up black in a very white culture. During one of our conversations, we got into a disagreement about MLK. Much to my embarrassment now, I remember throwing out lines about King being a communist and a womanizer, using these liable accusations as wholesale dismissals of King’s life, conviction and legacy.
King was not Jesus. King was not perfect. However, my lines were merely a reaction, blindly parroting rhetoric I had heard growing up. I hadn’t dug into the facts. I hadn’t asked how my white upbringing had colored my historical perspective. Worse, I didn’t stop to listen to my friend who was offering me a piece of his heritage, one of his (rightful) heroes. Truthfully, I was an ignorant white kid spouting trash. And I am so sorry.
I never had a chance to apologize. I wish I could find my friend and tell him how
sorry I am. Sorry that I was still trapped in my subculture. Sorry I hadn’t gotten enough of the story yet. Sorry I hadn’t seen enough of the world. Sorry I hadn’t realized that the man whose character I assaulted truly is a hero.
In recent conversations, I’ve realized how some of us who are white still think of Dr. King as “their hero.” There are multiple distressful realties to such a posture. However, as a starting point, Martin Luther King, Jr. should be a hero of every person (particularly every Christian) who decries evil and oppression, who believes that the Kingdom of God announces freedom in every human sphere, who marvels at the mystery and beauty of every single human.
The Scriptures forcefully declare that every man and women bare in our body and soul the glory of the image of God Almighty. Dr. King believed this. Preached it. Lived it. Died for it. We ought rejoice in his message and deeply mourn his death.
Pet Peeves
I’m going to list a few of my random pet peeves here. Perhaps this will be a recurring post, we’ll see. I would push myself into the proverbial corner by making some brash commitment about this theme returning, but…being pushed into a corner is most definitely one of my all-time pet peeves.
(and by the way, isn’t that just a fun word to say: peeves. Try it, now. Out loud. Yes, even you, Amy who is admirably conscientous about how you use your work time. Okay, slow and loud, let it just roll of the tongue. Here we go … P-e-e-v-e-s. Fun, isn’t it? Wyatt and Seth like to say it, though they typically leave out the “v” and always chuckle really hard afterwards.)
So, just a few peeves. And I do apologize if you participate in these activities. I’m sure I annoy you as well.
+Slow, turtle-like people at the self-checkout line at the grocery store
+People perfecting their turtle behavior at the self-checkout line because they are talking on their cell phone
+Turtle people at the aforementioned checkout line chatting away on that blasted machine attached to their ear and ignoring my intensifying glare
+The word anywho (most often – and for reasons I have yet to comprehend – used in place of “anyhow”). I don’t entirely know why I find this grating, but, at a minimum, it makes me feel like I’m trapped in a Dr. Seuss tale.
+Facebook invitations asking me to join a snowball fight or become a pirate or go on an Easter egg hunt or plant a geranium in their (virtual) garden
+Spellcheckers that do not recognize “facebook” or “incarnational” or “missional” or, can you believe it, “spellchecker”
What are a few of your pet peeves? If it’s anything I participate in, I reserve the editorial perogative to delete your comment : ) [darn, I know smiley faces will be on somebody’s list, it’s gotta be…]
Colbert and the Lucifer Effect
{by the way, that title looks kinda eerie in red and black, doesn’t it?}
I saw this Colbert piece today, and it was just too fantastic. Early on, Colbert was in usual character and used his sarchasm (as he does so well) to highlight some of our looney notions on authority. But (it seems to me at least) that about 2/3 of the way in, a bit of Colbert’s ire was genuinely stoked. And that last line…
My Sunday School memories would be a good bit different if I’d had a teacher like that.
Defiance
Today, my dcf pastor-partner Nathan Elmore and I went to see There Will Be Blood. I had quite a reaction to the film, and you can read about it here if you’re interested. However, for me, one of the best parts of the experience was seeing the trailer for Defiance, a movie releasing this Fall and chronicling a true story of a few brother’s heroic attempts to save the refugees of an entire Jewish village from the Nazis. This is one I can not wait for.
I’m very ready to be immersed in a story about true heroes.
peace / Winn