God In A Box

We Moderns are familiar with Nietzsche stating that "God is Dead", and in this statement we implicitly understand that there is not a "cosmic order" to things. I would venture further into our modern worldview and speculate that we modern Christians have done something far worse than kill God. We have placed God in a box.

The modern Christian Church has done a good job marketing to culture. We generally have good praise bands, excellent overhead projections to follow the words to worship on, practical, entertaining teaching, and well thought out verbage for post modern psycho analytical thought to assist in the teaching (read sarcasm here). However, for all of this the Church is still missing something of great importance. We are missing the culture. When the church doors open on Sunday morning our Theology is left in the pew and lies forgotten until Wednesday evening.

The result is a seperation between the sacred and the secular. No longer is it God's creation, but a fallen world that Christians are not to involve themselves in. And why should we? According to modern evangelical thought, the world is ending soon any way. Accordingly, there is not a clear Theologically driven desire to engage the culture via music, art, politics, business, movies, etc, etc. Sadly, what follows is children raised in Christian homes who are schizophrenic. Not sure of what Truth is, these children, the post-moderns, live in a constant state of confusion trying to decipher what is Truth, reason, or just plain emotion.

Perhaps this is most obvious to many of those who watched the President's State of the Union Address and are following the "already heated" race to 2008. The issues that confront us today, are no different than the issues that confronted us many years ago. What is different is the manner in which we approach these issues. Instead of looking at global warming (thanks, Bryan), Islamofascism, and social issues critically, we view them emotionally.

I ran across the following paragraph while reading Wind, Sand, and Stars, a novel by Antoine De Saint-Exupery. "Every week men sit comfortably in the cinema and look on at the bombardment of some Shanghai or other, some Guernica, and marvel without a trace of horror at the long fringes of ash and soot that twist their slow way into the sky from those man-made volcanoes. Yet we all know together with the grain in the graineries, with the heritage of generations of men, with the treasures of families, it is the burning flesh of children and their elders that, dissipated in smoke, is slowly fertilizing those black cumuli". Written in 1939, Exupery's words are an example of how we can fear losses in combat and argue the "just war theory", yet abort babies and participate in euthenasia. We look at hardened professionals trained to deal in death and destruction as victims and ignore the most helpless among us. Likewise, we cry for every woman to have her equal rights, yet we demean her in every possible way with rampant, ever available pornogrpahy. And we wonder why post-modern children are schizophrenic?

Exupery finishes his thought with a sound answer. One that we sacred/secular bi-polar Christians may wish to heed: "The physical drama itself cannot touch us until some one points out its spiritual sense."

Spiders On Drugs

I found this extremely profound, educational, and interesting. I am sure that you will as well.

On Worship

As a fairly immature Christian I have been struggling with the concept of making our work worship as well as working during worship. I understand that we are called to worship 24/7, but how can we adequately do that in our fallen state with so many distractions that vie for our attention. I recently ran across the following paragraph from C.S. Lewis's "Reflections On The Psalms" which has helped me immensely as I continue to struggle with this important concept. It made particularly good sense to me since I am a former rider and could identify with the riding school anology.

"...It is along these lines that I find it easiest to understand the Christian doctrine that "Heaven" is a state in which angels now, and men hereafter, are perpetually employed in praising God. This does not mean, as it can so dismally suggest, that it is like "being in church." For our "services" both in their conduct and in our power to participate, are merely attempts at worship; never fully successful, often 99.9% failures, sometimes total failures. We are not riders but pupils in the riding school; for most of us the falls and bruises, the aching muscles and the severity of the excercise, far outweigh those few moments in which we were, to our own astonishment, actually galloping without terror and without disaster...The Scotch catechism says that man's chief end is "to glorify God and enjoy Him forever." But we shall then know that these are the same thing. Fully to enjoy is to glorify. In commanding us to glorify Him, God is inviting us to enjoy Him."

A Little Motivation

To my Leatherneck Bothers and Sisters...Damn the politicians...full speed ahead. Hang tight boys, I'll be there soon.

Semper Fi!!

The Chosen Beer

One of the many benefits of submitting ourselves to the Headship of Christ is enjoying the uniqueness and beauty of His creation. The table as a facet of His creation, is no less significant to us theologically than our gathering together to study His Word. Eating and Drinking are a means to worship our Creator and give thanks for His many blessings. Gathering around the table, no matter the amount of guests, has the potential for a great time of community.

Robert Farrar Capon, one of my favorite cultural and culinary commentators once remarked on the subject of wine; "Nothing appalls me more than to hear people refer to the drinking of wine as if it were a forbidden and fascinating way of sneaking alcohol into ones system. My flesh creeps when I hear the legitimate love of the fruit of the vine treated as if it were a longer winded way of doing what the world does with grain neutral spirits and cheap vermouth. With wine at hand, the good man concerns himself not with getting drunk, but with drinking in all the natural delectabilities of wine: taste, color, bouquet; its manifold graces; the way it complements food and enhances conversation; and its sovereign power to turn evening into occasions, to lift eating beyond nourishment to conviviality, and to bring the race, for a few hours at least , to that happy place where men are wise, women are beautiful, and even one's children begin to look promising".

On that note, Electra and I have discovered a wonderful new beer. Well, new to us anyhow.... It is called He'Brew, the Chosen Beer. Sample the label: "As commanded, we at He'Brew beer have been fruitful and multiplied our offerings. Tradition teaches that the Messiah's name is Shalom-Peace. With your first sip of this rich, dark, and delicious libation, we hope to offer a momentary taste of microbrewed bliss. If you feel the sudden urge to beat your swords into ploughshares (Isaiah 2:4) or to picnic with the lion and the lamb (Is. 11:6). Rejoice"!

It's the first day

In 2007, we plan to move once, play as seriously as we work, and find a kayak to paddle around the islands of the Outer Banks all summer. Meanwhile, we'll bask under the shelter of family farmhouse from the cold Tennessee sky for another week. It's such a good thing to have long holidays when the daily life before is busy with work. New Year's Eve parties leave one tired and missing half the next day, so we've got some time to reclaim.

Rejoice!

For the time of busy Christmas has come! After a week in Charlotte, where we began our month long holiday, we've been part of a friend's big wedding, Elizabeth's great college-graduation party, three late night dinner parties at the Trent House, and in between, picking out a house in a whole new city we've never been to before! It's all good stuff, but -wow-what a change of pace for two elderly young ones whose normal bedtime is 9:30pm.

So, we'll be off to absorb all this funness and visiting to the seclusion of the mountains for the night of our Two Year Anniversary (woohoo!). We'll wake up the next day on the other side of the mountains, after we make our way into Tennessee for Christmas at High Meadow Farm. Merry Christmas, ahoy!

Transition Time

It is that time of year again...and for our household the Christmas season has become synonomous with moving. Not that moving is bad, in fact we both feel that moving is a great adventure that presents all kinds of new opportunities.

However, the new opportunities do not outshine the opportunities and the friends that were had and made in the old place. There never fails to be a feeling of sadness and loss with a move, no matter how excited you are about where you are going.

May our prayer be that God would bless and keep, protect and enable, and guide and direct, just as He always has, just as He always will.

Lady Red Hawk Day

Look what Electra did today!! I'm the one in the back of the jet. We got to taxi on the runway and make a half-takeoff (not actually leave the ground) then saw behind the scenes in the control towers and even got in the simulators, where I got landed on the carrier! The simulated catapult wasn't so hot; I flipped my jet into the blue yonder right off the edge of the boat!My big red wings callsign: "Belle." Boards was one of the volunteer van drivers, a great tour guide if you ever need one. He's very patient with giggly girls in baggy, hiked-up rolled flight suits!

Thanksgiving

From the summer family reunion to the Thanksgiving feast at the Herrings this year, we have much to be thankful for!
We ate dinner with about 30 family members and then a few friends from our neighbourhood. Afterwards, some of the guys started a game of toss the football in the car-lined street, where our various minivans and suburbans and SUVs didn't seem to mind the occasional missed ball. The girls joined in after touring an ancient graveyard across the street. By sunset, we were ready for Round Two of pie before everyone departed for more gatherings at each of the grandparents' houses. Eric and I joined the Hoeses who live across the bay from Rockport, tucked away in a dense semi-tropical jungle. Neither of us wanted the fun to end, but sleep has a way of stealing away our best intentions.

one fine day

The last flight is scheduled. It's a bittersweet moment, for all the memories of toil and struggle, a precious few airtime epiphanies, and then the fellows who went down to be cast out only highten one's awareness of impending failure--for no one's "too good" to be un-selected. For Kermit, the end is in sight; the beginning of a new day of more training. In between, we will be glad to waste some rubber on the road and cruise at the hum-drum speed of 75 to meet Christmas in the southern mountains.

A star was born

Two and something decades ago, a baby called Rahab was born. Today we celebrate from afar. Happy Birthday! I hope USPS hand-delivery guy can find your doorstep.