Post-Human

Doug Groothius posted a piece on his blog today titled I'm A Post Human that kind of fits in with some of the discussion on A Generous Orthodoxy...

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Rodeo

I was going through some pictures, making another failed effort to organize things a bit, and came across these pictures of Dad, Josh and I from the rodeo a few years ago. You gotta love Texas....

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A Generous Orthodoxy - Chapters 9-10

In chapter 9, "Why I Am Mystical/Poetic", McLaren outlines some of the limitations of reason when approaching theology, and highlights the need for using more poetic language and imaginative thinking. On page 152 he defines an approach that is "coherent (hanging together, making sense when its many parts are integrated), contextual (sensitive to its cultural and historic situation), conversational (never attempting to be the last word, and thus silence other voices, but rather inviting ongoing dialogue in the search for truth), and comprehensive (relating to all of life)" that I found really helpful.

Chapter 10, "Why I Am Biblical", begins with an admission that he has been critiqued by friends who implied that he didn't hold the bible highly enough. My first thought was: Well, maybe there's a reason. And his stated belief that "it is a gift from God, inspired by God, to benefit us in the most important was possible: equipping us so that we can benefit others, so that we can play our part in the ongoing mission of God." immediately re-raised the question of his definition of mission; I'm not fully confident that his take on the gospel is much more than a social one. At risk of sounding like a broken record, I think it is, but also much more. It "equips us for good works", but it also proclaims the good news about salvation, and demands that we make a choice: Is Jesus lord? I believe there is Truth in the pages, not just wisdom for living better in community and suggestions for how to be good.

What did y'all think of the second paragraph on page 161 about the spirit in creation? I'm not sure what I think about the language of "permission to become". But I like his analogy to his own birth/creation- the product of a "complex synergy", not just biology or just God - and his extension to scripture, written by men writing in their own voice from their own context; I don't believe that God overrode their personality or just moved their hand over the page to get down on parchment his exact words.

I totally agree that Christians have been known to proof text and use scripture as a weapon in a way that completely contradicts love. Even in Christian circles, scripture has been used to squelch questions and doubt. We quote a bible verse (often out of context) as if it's all cut and dried, telling people to "just have more faith" rather than dealing with the difficult task of interpretation.

It is, as he states, a narrative, often descriptive rather than prescriptive, and using poetic forms that have layers of meaning far beyond simple propositional statements of truth.

What do you think of his analogies in dealing with some of the OT brutality? Are they helpful?

What do you think of some of the extrabiblical language that we use to describe the bible (inerrant, infallible, etc.)? Does it aid your understanding or hinder it?

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Encouragement in the Psalms

1 Blessed is the man
          who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked
          or stand in the way of sinners
          or sit in the seat of mockers.
2 But his delight is in the law of the Lord,
          and on his law he meditates day and night.
3 He is like a tree planted by streams of water,
          which yields its fruit in season
          and whose leaf does not wither.
          Whatever he does prospers.

                                                                 Psalm 1:1-3

This morning I read this psalm, and was struck by the words "in season". I've been frustrated a bit lately by the slow pace of change in my life, and the words just sort of jumped off the page at me, offering encouragement. Growth is slow and seasonal. And it's okay. It's blessed, even.

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Indiscriminate Compassion

"Take a look at a rose. Is it possible for the rose to say, 'I'll offer my fragrance to good people and withhold it from bad people'? Or can you imagine a lamp that withholds its rays from a wicked person who seeks to walk in its light? It could do that only by ceasing to be a lamp. And observe how helplessly and indiscriminately a tree gives its shade to everyone, good and bad, young and old, high and low; to animals and humans and every living creature - even to the one who seeks to cut it down. This is the first quality of compassion - its indiscriminate character."

Anthony DeMello, quoted in Abba's Child

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Sunday Funnies

Moderately Confused                               Jeff Stahler

And an episode of Harvey Birdman, "Shaggy Gets Busted"

 

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TV? Bad. Part 2

Filed Under: You've Got To Be Kidding Me

Also in today's news: A man was sentenced to life in prison after fatally shooting a 15 year old neighbor for walking on his carefully tended lawn. The defense?

Martin told the court he was sorry the shooting occurred but said the teen knew how much Martin cared for his lawn and provoked him.

"He stepped on it and he walked 40 feet through it," Martin said. "I cared about it. I cut it every five days."

The only thing I can think of that would make a 67 year old man think that a gun was an acceptable solution is this violent season of 24. It's just the only thing that makes sense.

Good grief.

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TV? Bad.

Filed Under: Duh

Today's news from the AP: TV Can Be Bad For Diabetic Children. Apparently, increased snacking and inactivity are bad for you. Especially if you're diabetic. Who knew?

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The Robe

I recently finished The Robe, by Lloyd C. Douglas. Douglas spent the bulk of his life serving as a minister, and his writing reflects his religious commitment. However, it is not preachy, nor does it appeal to an exlusively Chrsitian audience; it spent a year at #1 on the NY Times Best Seller list when it was published in 1942.

The novel is the story of a wealthy Roman tribune, Marcellus Gallio, who was at the crucifixion of Christ, casting lots for and winning the robe that Jesus wore.

After this terrible event, Marcellus falls into a deep depression, tormented by the memory of killing an innocent man. Utterly inconsolable, he flees his post in Minoa and, with his slave Demetrius, heads to Athens to try and recover. Finding no respite, he decides to end his life, but Demetrius had cleverly hidden his dagger beneath the robe that symbolized "that horrid affair", and upon touching it he finds himself comforted and utterly "unencumbered by the weight that so long oppressed him." Admiring what he knew of the man Jesus, and feeling the power of the robe, he and Demetrius head off on a journey that will take them through Galilee and back to Rome in search of answers about who Jesus was.

The book is beautifully written, and brings vividly to life what it must have been like for Romans, slaves and Jews alike as the Christian church was birthed. It's wonderfully constructed, as we learn about Jesus as people must have then - in bits and pieces, and through the voices of the people who knew him. I appreciate too that it is not the stories of the miracles that draw the characters, but the changed lives of the people who he touched with his teachings. Sort of convicting for us now: do our lives make people want to know about the man who changed them?

I love the earthiness (for lack of a better word) of the characters that we meet that are already familiar to us. We are introduced to Peter as "the big fisherman" and Stephen as somewhat of a discontent about the new ecclesia, far removed from the glowing Renaissance images that we are all so familiar with. And it also adds depth to the characters we have villainized: for example, the drunken Romans who did the act are driven to drink because they see no other way to get through the killing of an innocent, not because they are just particularly brutish and revelling in the torture of another.

I could go on, but as this is getting a bit long, I won't. I obviously loved the book, and think it would be a good read for anyone interested in the person of Jesus, whether for historical or religious reasons. No matter what you believe, it's an intriguing story full of politics, romance, mystery, betrayal, and everything else that keeps you turning pages.

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Have I Mentioned That I Love This Place?

 Today was my day off, and I was thrilled to wake up and see the sun shining brightly. I made a giant cup of coffee and sat on the balcony for a while, enjoying the view and my little garden while reading a book. Then I took off for a hike, enjoying the solitude of the mountain and  listening to some lectures about Martin Luther. Fascinating fellow. While I was walking,  I gorged myself on the wild strawberries growing everywhere along the path. Right along a ridge, I came upon a chair cut out of an old tree trunk which was too inviting to pass up, so I plopped down for while to eat my lunch  and read for a bit. Phenomenal. I'm always amazed by the beauty of this place, and it's still a little hard for me to believe that I get to live here! I looped around to Villars after a while and met up with Gwen, Ryan and some of the students for a beer on the patio at Hotel du Golf, and then we walked back to Bellevue just in time for dinner. After feasting on leftovers, several of us retired up to my living room to watch 24. That's a really stressful show - we've only got 2 episodes left to get to the finale, and I don't know if I'm sad or relieved that it's almost over. You gotta love Jack.

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Personality and Learning

Newsweek has an article this week discussing the research of Carol Dweck, a Stanford psychologist who is attempting to uncover just how much of our personalities are malleable, and how much is genetically determined. Her conclusion? We're highly subject to change, and even subtle differences in the way we talk to each other can be significant.

I am intrigued in particular by one of her methods, in which she praised preteens on test results by either commenting on their intelligence ("You're so smart!") or their dedication ("You must have worked very hard!").

This may seem like a subtle difference, but to the developing mind the two messages are night and day. The former conveys the belief that people's abilities and traits are fixed, written in concrete, while the latter underscores the potential for growth and the value of old-fashioned effort. The results were immediate and unambiguous: the kids who were told they were smart immediately became cautious, shying away from any further testing that might expose weaknesses. The kids who were praised for their effort, by contrast, became hungry for new challenges. What's more, when the kids were subsequently required to solve very difficult problems, on which they all did poorly, the "smart kids" took the failure as a blow to their self-worth; where they had been smart, they were now dumb, irrevocably. The effortful kids just dug in more...

...As a final part of the experiment, Dweck had all the kids write out their thoughts about the test, ostensibly for other kids who would be taking it in the future. There was also a space for them to write in their scores. Nearly 40 percent of the kids who had earlier been praised for their raw talent lied about how well they had done on the test. They inflated their scores. They were in effect using lying as a way to deny their imperfections, which had become shameful to them.

 Isn't pyschology fascinating? And frightening? It's a little overwhelming to think that even praise can have negative results and ultimately lead to a shame based identity. I keep waiting for a study to come out affirming the positive contributions of sarcasm to personality...

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Generous Orthodoxy - Chapters 6 - 8

Sorry if I keep y'all guessing on how many chapters I'm going to do each week. I'm sort of making it up as I go along, trying to hit some sort of balance between too much and too little. Also, a couple of people have commented to me that this can be a little overwhelming/intimidating, and I'd love any feedback on how to make it less so. I'll try a more minimalist approach in this post, and see what happens...

I pretty well agreed with much of what was said in chapter 6, Why I am an evangelical. I particularly appreciated the paragraph on p. 119 where he says

Yes, I know that when evangelicals start acting like Evangelicals, they can become less loving and more judgmental, less involved and more isolated, less compassionate and more critical, less passionate and more anxious, less generous and more controlling. But that shift is a betrayal of evangelical faith, not a consequence of it. When evangelicals are being true to their identity, they do whatever it takes to express their love for God and God's love for their neighbors - however unconventional and innovative their methods might be.

What do y'all think of the distinctions he makes between evangelical and Evangelical? Do you see/feel the passion he describes? He mentions that Evangelicals have "painted themselves into a lot of corners - theologically, politically, socially." (p. 120) Do you agree? Do you see any way out? Or even a place to start?

I started chapter 7 immediately annoyed, simply because I am sort of predisposed to dislike all of these post-everything labels. I know the intention is, like he points out, to emphasize both the continuity and the discontinuity, but still. We're in a postmodern culture in a post-Christian society full of post-evangelicals and post-protestants watching debates between the post-liberals and post-fundamentalists, and... come on. But anyway.

He describes the two potential meanings of protestant as people protesting against something or people "pro-testifying". He acknowledges that each meaning has value, but adds that "some people have a taste for each, though probably not at the same meal." (p. 123) Personally, I think maybe we need to sit down to both at the same meal, as they seem to be able to work hand in hand. Actually, they may need to work hand in hand. If we are testifying for something, the logic almost requires that we are also protesting against something. The key seems to be remembering (I'll quote Rob Bell again here) that if it has flesh, it's not our enemy. So what we're against should never be our neighbor. Am I oversimplifying here?

I love that in the 13 pages of chapter 8 he tackles epistemology and hermeneutics. Holy cow. Those are unbelievably huge topics. He has a lot of really helpful general critiques of both the liberal and conservative sides, but I don't find him really offering much of an alternative. Again, what is he really saying? I have to laugh at sentences like, "I think conservatives and liberals were both right and wrong and were each in their own way trying to do what they felt was right." Umm, okay. Of course, he's right, but what does he offer as a third alternative? I can say I'm both liberal and conservative and do what I 'feel' is right, but when you get down to it, it's sort of empty unless I'm working out of a coherent epistemology/hermeneutic. What do y'all think?

Okay, I'm going to stop there. See you in the comments section!

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Blog of Note

If you haven't visited Letters from Kamp Krusty, you're missing something truly great. The Krusty Sage speaks out on all manner of things: family life, business, health, entertainment, fashion, morality, and a plethora of other stuff. Check it out.

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Sunday Funnies

 

Remember Fraggle Rock? Here is the first episode ever...

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Is Christianity Good for the World?

There is an exchange with this title on the Christianity Today site between Christopher Hitchens (author of the book God is not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything) and  Douglas Wilson (author of Letter From A Christian Citizen).  Some interesting points on both sides, I think.

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Apocalypto

So, have you guys seen Apocalypto yet? We watched it a few weeks ago, and I'm still sort of processing it. The filming was beautiful, and the story was epic. But the violence was a little too graphic for me. It joins Requiem for a Dream at the top of my list of films that need to be seen once (and only once) for that reason. 

I won't say too much about the plot, except that it chronicles some of the final days of the Mayan civilization as it deteriorated from both within and without through the eyes of Jaguar Paw, a young man from a small jungle village. There is a gruesome human sacrifice scene (that was really eerie to see, having recently watched a Discovery Channel special on the Aztec Temple of Blood in which they showed how it was possible for over 20,000 people to be sacrificed in a 4 day period) that shows the depths possible of man's inhumanity towards man, but also some truly heroic moments when human dignity was powerfully affirmed.

I was intrigued by the theme of fear in the movie. The turning point for Jaguar Paw seemed to be the moment when he stopped and said "I am not afraid." He almost miraculously turned from helpless prey to cunning foe. For me, it was almost too dramatic a turn, and I'm not really sure what Gibson's point was meant to be. Any thoughts?

 If you haven't seen it, I'd recommend it, but if you have a sensitive stomach I'd definitely take along someone who is willing to watch and tell you when it's safe to open your eyes.

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Blogging Overload

So, I signed up for a facebook account. I mean, everybody's doing it. It's a little overwhelming, actually. I accidentally killed nearly an hour a few days ago just following friends to other friends, and discovered a world that includes messages, walls, photos, and I'm sure much more. So now, there's this blog, xanga, livejournal, facebook; and I actually contemplated joining myspace as well. All in the name of 'keeping in touch'. But how in the world does anyone have time to actually keep up with it all? I sat down this morning to give it a whirl, but quickly got lost in the maze and fled. Closed my laptop and went on hiatus for the day, having developed a headache after a mere 10 minutes, and had a heck of a time even convincing myself to re-open it to post something here for the day. So maybe I'm not the geek I thought I was.

 

In totally unrelated news, Gwen and I discovered that Employee of the Month is as terrible as we suspected it might be. Truly craptastic.

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Religious Thought vs. Feeling

I saw an interesting article today in the opinion section of the International Herald Tribune titled Thought vs. Feeling in Religion. According to the author, James Carroll from the Boston Globe, the two functions of religion are to explain life's mysteries and help overcome life's difficulties.

He explains some of the popularity of mega-churches as being the result of people looking for an "emotional boost", and "megachurch liturgies, speaking generally, are more like rock concerts than traditional worship services, and the sermons are more like pep talks than discourses." His critique is that:

In the United States, the megachurch movement is solidly aligned on one side of the culture wars. Suspicion of enlightenment assumptions, like the need for critical reading of texts or the notion of an evolving universe, is a mark of most new-breed evangelical religion. Megachurch preaching targets homosexuality and feminism. The flip side of rapture is an aggressive anti-intellectualism. The reason to oppose this American manifestation of religious enthusiasm is not just because it's bad religion: it's bad culture and politics, too.

His point in the article isn't specifically about mega-churches... he touches on liberation theology in Latin America ("The Gospel is centrally a call to justice, and poor people throughout the continent are hearing it that way... When the critical mind and unleashed emotions come together in enthusiastic religion centered on social change (we saw this in the U.S. civil rights movement), the results can be as politically transforming as they are spiritually transporting.") and critiques Pope Benedict's opposition to it, accusing him of "undermining the crucial connection between thought and feeling that keeps religion humane."

If any of y'all reads it, I'd be curious to hear your thoughts...

 

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Some Random Moments From My Day

 

I woke up and went out on my porch to enjoy my window garden, and noticed my clematis is in full bloom and absolutely gorgeous

 

 

 

During dinner we received a call that a friend from the village had his car slip off the road in the rain, so our many manly students went down to help him out

 

 

 

 

 

Aren't they grand?

 

 

 

 

Hanging out in the lounge after dinner, Chris regaled us with the fascinating story of his high school graduation. He was salutatorian and decided to channel Chris Farley during his speech. Two weeks later, after cops and a vice principal had escorted him from the ceremony and a public outcry on his behalf, he finally received his diploma. Luckily for us, video of the whole sordid affair is on youtube.

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Sooooo Frustrated

I was working this morning on the latest chapter of the Generous Orthodoxy discussion, and somehow lost my post on chapters 1-4. Unfortunately, google hadn't cached the page, and I think I'm pretty well SOL. I'm super annoyed at myself - does anyone by any chance use a feed reader or anything that kept a copy of it? I don't have a backup (I know: tsk, tsk) and can't for the life of me even remember what I wrote. I know it's unlikely, but I thought I'd ask...

But through it, I've learned a bit more about my blogging software. Which is actually great (and free), and I'd recommend it to those of you who blog. It's called Live Writer, and it can manage multiple blogs, add technorati tags, etc. It imports the settings from your blog, so you can see exactly how it will look as you're composing.

But, here are the limitations I've discovered. First, if you're using blogger, it doesn't automate the tagging of your posts, so you have to go back to your dashboard and do it manually. Second, unless you have web space (by the way, ucvhost has really cheap space) it won't upload your photos to blogger, so you'd have to use something like photobucket or flickr and insert an image from a web page. But if you do have web space, it automatically uploads and links to your images, which is nice and gets rid of some steps. Finally, as discovered this morning, if you use an old post as a template and don't create a new post, it stores the post ID and then overwrites the old post when you publish. But as long as you create a new post and cut and paste, it's great.

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A Generous Orthodoxy - Chapter 5

I know I said I would be posting chapters 5 thru 10 today, but I found so much to chew on just in chapter 5, "Why I Am Missional",  that I thought I'd just stop there for this week. I feel like there is a ton to discuss here: What is our mission? What does it mean to be a disciple of Christ? What is the proper place to hold a view on heaven and hell? How do we share the gospel in a pluralistic/relativistic world? The list goes on (and on and on and on).  I still don't want to drag the book on forever, but I didn't want to rush through discussion on some of these ideas...

Greg recently posted about another book, The Community of the Word, and observes  that "the term missional aims to move us 'beyond narrow definitions of mission as merely one among the various programs of the church, and to find ways to think about the church’s calling and practice' in what is now 'the multicultural global church.' Mission is not just an extra add on, but essential and central to the purpose and action of the church." I agree with this, and I also applaud McLaren's desire to blaze a new trail beyond our traditional understandings, but, like any trailblazer, I think he's bound to make some missteps.

If the focus is on being missional, it is vital to define what the mission is. What do y'all think of his definition as "To be and make disciples of Jesus Christ in authentic community for the good of the world" (p. 107)? I headed to Vine's Expository Dictionary and looked up 'disciple', and found the definition there as "a learner - indicating thought followed by endeavor."  My immediate reaction is to want to add something about relationship - community between both me and others and me and God, which I think is vital to spirituality. However, I also agree with him that our focus in the church has been far too focused on the idea of personal salvation. My understanding is that Christ came to save the world. As part of the world, I am included in that, but God's redemptive purposes are far larger than 'me'. We see this individualistic understanding of the gospel all over the place in the church, and I like the way he uses the diagram on page 108 to reset the context of personal salvation within a much wider story.

I think this understanding is crucial for giving our lives purpose here and now in the world. Too often we've focused, as I think he rightly notes, on whether we're going to spend eternity in heaven or hell. We've had this apocalyptic vision of the world in flames that has on at least some levels allowed us to use and abuse creation and each other. I believe we were created for life on earth, and I think scripture points to 'heaven' as being a renewed 'here', where we will still cultivate the land, work, sing, create art, etc as embodied creatures. This hugely impacts how we live now. We are to be a blessing to the earth, and I love how he describes Christianity as being universally good news (p.110) as we live out our mission, following the way of Jesus in striving for social justice, feeding the hungry, helping widows and orphans, etc. That said, I feel as though he's replacing our historically faulty focus on the eternity side of the picture with an equally faulty focus on the now side of the picture. Both are important. We ought to feed a hungry person soup, but we ought also offer them the bread of life. I don't believe that the one should be contingent on the other, but I think both are crucial. Sharing the gospel has always been difficult, and in our current context it remains so, especially as it can easily come across as self-righteous or judgmental. Any thoughts on how we ought to proclaim the word of God in today's climate?

He obviously has a tender heart for the world at large, and through that lens I applaud his sympathy towards a universalist view, critiquing it as potentially leading to a "magnanimous apathy" (p. 110). But I think the problem with a universalist view of salvation is bigger than that. While he says that "they have the highest opinion possible about the efficacy and scope of the saving work of Jesus" (p. 114), I would say it largely empties the cross of meaning. He held out his arms to the whole world, but not everyone will choose to pick up their cross and follow him. In many ways it disavows choice and freedom, which I think McLaren would want to affirm. It gets tricky to say free will doesn't matter when the outcome is good, but personal responsibility is the focus when the outcome is bad. I don't know what that means as far as 'who is in, who is out', and I truly believe that God's love and justice is far greater than my finite mind could ever comprehend, but I believe that I'm not just saved for eternity - my salvation is today. My relationship with God through Christ is now, and changes everything about the way I see the world and live in it. I want to offer that to people. Not to save them from hell, but so that they can experience grace and hope in our world, and know the joy that flows from that. 

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A Rattler's Tale

Many of you remember that not too long ago my father tangled with a rattlesnake and caught the pointy end. He has painstakingly typed up his adventures for us one-handed, as he still doesn't have full use of his left hand. If you think of it, please do continue to pray for the nerves to heal...

If you'd prefer to download & read the story, click here, otherwise, keep reading below.

A RATTLER’S TALE

By John E. Peltier

It was south Texas brush country, twenty miles outside of Freer, where nearly everything in the landscape will stick you, sting you, or bite you. With nights so clear that the stars nearly touch the horizon in every direction, and its wild and raw natural beauty, we were drawn there like moths to flame.

My brother Louis and I had just finished setting up the last protein feeder pen, and were driving the jeep to the far west end of the property to check out two game cameras. It was the last day of winter 2007; spring was right around the corner, and so was a five foot diamondback rattlesnake lying still near the edge of the road. I stopped the jeep within ten feet of the snake and it just laid there like one long line. Jeb, my dog, had been snake trained but I commanded him to stay clear as he hopped from the jeep.

While Louis took its picture, I pulled out my Colt 45, model 1911 pistol. “The only good rattlesnake is a dead rattlesnake,” was standard code for this ranch. I said to Louis, “Back me up.” He readied a Ruger carbine ranch rifle with a full twenty round clip. I thought to myself, “I wish I had my small 22 caliber rifle now. That skin would have made a nice belt.” I took aim at its head and squeezed off the first shot – an inch high. It jerked its head back. The sound was deafening as Louis started laying in a few rounds and I continued firing. The snake had been hit several times and started to retreat quickly. Louis riddled its body with bullets before it could move more than a couple of feet. The snake laid still in a twisted mass. “I don’t think we could put together two hatbands from what’s left of this hide,” I said. “Get the camera; we’ll get an ‘after’ picture.”

With my empty 45 in my right hand, I reached to grab the snake behind its head with my left. When my hand was within ten inches of the “dead” snake, it closed the distance between its head and my hand like a lightning strike. “The SOB bit me!!” I cried out. “No!” Louis yelled. He turned and unloaded the rest of the magazine into the rattler. I could feel the hot poison coursing up my arm; the bite area of my hand instinctively entered my mouth and I sucked at the poison and spit several times. It was futile, and I knew I was in big trouble. I scrambled into the passenger side of the jeep. Louis loaded up Jeb and while racing back to camp made a phone call to his son: “Will, John just got bit by a rattlesnake. I need you to find the closest place that can treat snake bites; then do whatever it takes to arrange the quickest transportation there.” By the time we made it to camp, eight to ten minutes later, I was feeling unsteady. “I was worried about you falling out of the Jeep,” Louis told me later.

When we arrived in camp my truck was still hooked-up to the trailer we had been using earlier. Louis unhooked the trailer, threw a few things in the truck and started it. “Where are you going?” I blurted out. “Stay put!” He yelled back. He roared the truck around and stopped one step away from where I was sitting in the jeep. He came to me and said, “Be steady getting into the truck. If you fall, I’m afraid I won’t be able to pick you up.” Together, we transferred me to the truck, then Louis drove as if we were being shot from a cannon. The first six miles were dirt roads. The speed, the bumps, the constant swerving to find smooth parts of the road, and mainly the venom, made me nauseous. Louis, me, and the rest of front cab area soon were dripping with a healthy coat of fresh vomit. With my seat belt attached, I could feel myself deliriously pitching and rolling from that pivot point like I was on a bad roller-coaster ride.

I knew that I was in the hands of God and others. My body was retching, quaking and trembling in its fight to overcome the venomous bite, but somehow my mind was at peace, knowing that I could do nothing for myself and feeling comfort in the hands into which I had been placed. A cop friend of mine once told me: “You can beat the rap, but you can’t beat the ride.” This was to be the ride of my life. When we reached the paved road the ride smoothed, the speed increased, and Louis was driving hell bent for leather. I looked up and we were following a police car. Later, I saw another emergency vehicle’s flashing lights. As we got closer, I could see an ambulance on the side of the road with its rear doors open. We pulled in close; an EMT helped me out of the truck. My pistol was still hanging on my hip. I was surprised at the great effort it took as I pulled it from its holster and laid it on the seat where I had been sitting, noticing the EMT backing off. They rolled a gurney next to me, helped me onto it, securely strapped me in place and loaded me into the rear of the ambulance. The ride resumed. After taking my blood pressure, the EMT struggled to remove my wallet from my back pocket to verify insurance and identification.

The EMT continually asked questions: “What is your name? Are you married? How many kids do you have? What are their names?” Every time my eyelids seemed heavy, she would blast me with another question. Time passed, but I had no concept of it. At some point the ambulance stopped. I saw Louis’s worried face looking into the back of ambulance at me. I don’t remember being in pain at that time. “The HALO Flight is a few minutes out,” someone announced. Soon I heard the old familiar sound of a chopper coming in to land. Memories of my time as an army medic forty years ago and half a world away flew through my mind. I knew that this time the ride was for me. They hustled the gurney from the ambulance to the chopper into the darkness. The flashing lights, the engine noise of the chopper, the wash of its rotors, the police and EMT onlookers, and the garbled barking of radio transmissions, somehow made me feel as though I had entered a carnival midway.

A small, pallet-like bed jutted out from the side of the aircraft, and they elevated my gurney to the same level, transferring my carcass to it as gently as was possible. The berth was hard and one size too small. It rotated into the rear bay, sliding forward and locking into place. I felt like my feet were in the cockpit with the pilot and my body from the waist up was in the EMT work area. Now the ride had gone airborne as we ascended into the cool black sky. Again a cuff was attached to my right arm so that my blood pressure could be monitored constantly. The next thing I remember, I was rolling into a brightly lit room with a mess of faces looking down at me. Later, I discovered I had arrived in Corpus Christi at the Corpus Spohn Hospital. “Are you allergic to anything?” one asked. “No,” I moaned quietly. “ARE YOU ALLERGIC TO ANYTHING?” she badgered. “No,” I said louder. “Are you sure?” she asked again.

After a moment, I replied: “Rattlesnakes.” That drew smiles and laughter, and things seemed to lighten up a notch or two. The tee-shirt I was wearing quickly disappeared with a few snips of the scissors and my jeans and underwear vanished off the ends of my feet. They moved me to a bed and almost immediately I threw-up all over the place. While someone was cleaning me up, my right arm was giving up blood for testing and getting an IV drip which I’m sure included life saving antivenin. I was wired to a monitor from buttons that were glued to my chest. After those first few minutes in the ER my memory faded. Not knowing exactly what had happened in the ER, two weeks later while Louis and I were at our nephews wedding I asked him: “Can you tell me what it was like in the ER when you got there?”

He thought for a moment and said, “I got to the hospital at about 8:00 PM and asked if I could see you. The receptionist called the ER and then she told me to check back in ten minutes.

After about five minutes had passed, a young nurse escorted me to the ER and introduced me to the doctor in charge. Your body was raging and shaking in uncontrollable convulsions. Your face was grimaced with pain. I asked the doctor if he could give you something to relieve your pain and he said, “He can live with the pain, but not without blood pressure.” Then the doctor told Louis that he was giving me adrenaline to get my heart racing and something else to constrict my blood vessels to get my blood pressure up. He couldn’t give me pain killers because they would dilate the blood vessels. Over the next few hours my blood pressure improved and stabilized; then I was given small doses of morphine as I complained of pain. The doctor came in and said, “You have visitors.” I was surprised and happy to see my wife, Janie, my two sons, Josh and Justin, and my brother Stephen. I welcomed them, and then drifted back into the safe haven of sleep.

During the time Will was making arrangements for me, he was also getting the word out to my family. The first person he called was my brother Stephen whom he asked to go tell Janie personally. He didn’t want this message delivered when she was alone. Then he called my sons Joshua and Justin. When Stephen got to our house he found Janie’s cell phone laying on the counter blinking with missed calls. When Justin got the call he was walking out the door with some friends to go to dinner. He told them what happened, then bolted out and drove to our home in Tomball, calling Josh and Janie on the way. Josh later told me this story: “There is nothing scarier than receiving two voicemail messages, one from Will, in a serious voice, saying ‘Josh, call me as soon as you get this.’ Then one from Justin saying, ‘Josh, call me. Something happened to Dad.’ I immediately called Justin and learned that you had been bitten by a rattlesnake.”

Josh had been at a crawfish boil with his girlfriend, Anna, who was a co-worker of Ellie, the daughter of my wife’s best friend. As soon as he got off the phone with Justin he told Anna what had happened and left for home. Ellie, who was sitting across the table from them, immediately called her dad and told him about the snakebite. Her dad, Rich, looked up across the dinner table at our pastors house and said, “Janie, did you know John was bitten by a rattlesnake?” Janie and the boys converged at the house to find Stephen waiting. He insisted on driving them the four and a half hours to Corpus Christi. As Stephen drove, three cell phones were busily engaged, getting the word out and asking for prayer. One of those calls was to my daughter, Jasie, who is currently living in Switzerland. When they were within an hour or so of Corpus, Louis called and gave them the news that my blood pressure had been stabilized. The news was a great relief for everyone and a wave of calmness swept through the car.

The next morning arrived with a nurse poking me with a needle to take some more blood samples. Janie was dozing uncomfortably in a small straight-backed chair and it warmed my heart just to see her again. (In ICU no visitor was supposed to stay overnight. She didn’t arrive until the wee hours of morning, so they didn’t push her out.) This whole episode marked the end of a record about which I had often boasted: It was the first night I had ever spent in a hospital for treatment in my life. (I will add that I was really glad to be there.) My mind was still fuzzy and my left arm was throbbing, swollen several times its normal size, and, as I examined it, it was easy to say it was UGLY. As ugly as it was, I was very thankful that it was still attached to my body and that the prognosis was good. The doctor was concerned about possible compartmentalization that could lead to paralysis and/or gangrene plus the loss of appendages. He paid close attention to the swelling and the next day he did a procedure called a fasciotomy. This entailed cutting three deep gashes in my hand and forearm, allowing my arm to decompress and relieving pressure on my nerves.

During my three days in ICU the care was excellent. I never felt like a piece of meat being passed around a butcher shop. I have a saying about my wife: “If she likes it, I love it.” I felt like Dee, my day nurse, treated all my wants and needs in a similar fashion. Al, the night nurse, the doctors, the vital sign takers, and blood drawers all seemed interested in the same goal: getting me well as quickly and efficiently as possible. During the next three days in a regular room, cabin fever was setting in, even with the great company and playing card games one-handed, I wanted to get back to Tomball to convalesce. The doctor made an extra effort, coming by Tuesday evening to check on me, which allowed for a Wednesday morning discharge.

I’m on the mend and the ride continues. The doctor at the wound center in Tomball told me because my basic health was good my wounds are healing rapidly. The fingers on my left hand are numb and tingling, he says the nerves grow slow and it might be a year before most of the feeling returns.

If it weren’t for technology (cell phones and computers), my brother Louis who brought me out, and his son Will, who orchestrated the emergency team, I might not be writing this story. I learned about an invisible support group that became very visible as this incident unfolded through phone calls, emails, cards, flowers, and countless prayers. I’m sure to my children I had been the picture of good health, independence and resourcefulness. I think they were shocked at the speed at which that picture changed to a person on the brink of death and totally dependent on others for survival. It gave me great satisfaction to witness their response, circling their wagons around Janie and me and standing ready to do whatever it took to shield and protect us. My daughter Jasie kept in constant contact with us and chronicled the events on her blog site and kept everyone updated. Her fear of losing me later turned into anger towards me once my survival was assured; she hated that I might engage in any action that could cause my untimely departure from this life. She soon got over it and I’m still around. I am humbled by the number of people that care about my well being. However, I don’t recommend testing your support group by messing around with rattlesnakes.

The snake was doing exactly as nature intended. And me? Well, I got a taste of what it’s like to be the prey instead of the predator, and will forever be wary of ‘dead’ snakes. I learned that it was not uncommon for snakes to bite after they appear to be dead. They instinctively strike; even after their heads have been removed, I am told they will strike with the blunt end of their body.

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Happy Mother's Day!!

I love you, Mom!

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Sunday Funnies

Rose is Rose                 By Don Wimmer

And an episode of the Smurfs, just for y'all...

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Introducing Michelle Samerjan

Okay, maybe not actually introducing her, as she's been around for a while and is quite successful, but perhaps there's a chance you haven't heard of her. I was looking through some old pictures and thinking about how much I wish I could go to the Sausalito Art Festival this year, and then decided to look up one of my favorite artists that I had the pleasure to meet (briefly) years ago. She does mixed media work that the web graphics just can't do justice to... the depth and texture of her work is just amazing. She does a lot of florals, which typically don't appeal to me, but see for yourself...

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There is a Podcast for Everything

I've become a little addicted to podcasts, so I thought I'd share my top 5 with y'all...

1 - 90 Minutes of Yoga with Wade - a great vinyasa style workout. It could be confusing if you're unfamiliar with some basic yoga poses, but a library book and Wade will whip you into shape in no time.

2- Mars Hill Bible Church - Pastor Rob Bell (and other guest teachers) have some excellent sermons available. I'd definitely listen to We Already Are and Wine and Heaven if you get a chance.

3 - A Prairie Home Companion - Garrison Keillor delivers his weekly news from Lake Wobegon. Awesome.

4 - Grist Environmental News - A weekly update on what's going on...

5 - The Things That Matter Most - A radio show hosted by Lael Arrington and Rick Davis, they have amazing guests from all walks of life and talk about a huge array of things.

I left out the regular news programs because, well, everybody knows about those. Also, for those as hung up on the English language as I am, Grammar Girl has a great weekly podcast where she sets right the wrongs perpetrated daily by marketers and writers everywhere.

So what are you guys listening to?

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Praying for Iraq

There are so many things about the situation in Iraq that need prayer, and I read this morning in the IHT a new one to add to the list:

A militant Islamic group in Iraq recently issued a fatwa, or religious edict, to the Assyrian Christian residents of the Baghdad suburb of Dora: Convert to Islam within 24 hours, or face death. At the same time, Muslim neighbors were instructed, over the loudspeakers of local mosques, to confiscate the property of Christians and enforce the edict.

Please read the full article here.

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Same Kind of Different as Me

When my mom was here visiting, she brought this little book, Same Kind of Different as Me, and I gave it a quick read one day while sitting on the porch in the warm spring sun (which by the way, has completely disappeared and we've had nothing but gloomy cold wet weather since she left. I don't know if there is a corrolation, but I suspect there might be.) It was quick enough to read in one or two sittings, and it sucked me in so rapidly that I don't think I could have drawn it out for longer.

It is the true story of two men - one a rich white Texan art dealer and the other a homeless black man who spent much of his life as a sharecropper (a modern day slave) - and their remarkable friendship. It began in a homeless shelter in Ft. Worth and continued on through various changes and tragedies in both of their lives.

I was astounded to read about some of the realities of life as a cotton picker for "the man" that still occur in parts of the States - stories that betray the lie behind the idea that racism is a thing of the past. And also astounded to read about the way that God can use a single person to bring about change and healing when they are listening to His voice.

It is a stirring, emotionally and spiritually rich book (although I readily admit that Denver's spiritual experiences are far different than my own) that I would recommend to anybody. Buy it, give it a read, and pass it on. All proceeds from the sale of the book are going back to the homeless shelter that Ron and Denver met at, so you can do a good deed for them and give yourself a treat at the same time.

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A Generous Orthodoxy - Chapters 1 - 4

So, I accidentally deleted this post. Does anyone have a copy of it in their inbox by any chance? Crap.

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Figuring It Out With Our Feet

Jamie recently wrote a post titled Losing Our Illusions: A Cry For Change, which you should definitely pop over and read. He is angry, and rightfully so:

We celebrate as freedoms the copious and vaccuous options of consumerism. We boast our accomplishment of racial equality from the safety of our white privilege and socially walled communities. We call ourselves Christians, expressions of the Body of Christ that spans time and the globe, and yet millions die needlessly of disease, poverty, violence and ignorance, both here and abroad while we remain silent or uncaring.

I resonate with his anger, and my tendency is to try and think through things and try and figure out some sort of solution. An impossible task, I know. He reminded me in his comments, however, that "the trick is that these issues cannot be solved in our mind, but only with our feet- where we go, how we live, etc. That is the costly price of overcoming these challenges." What a great reminder!

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Sunday Funnies

Growing up, I used to love the Saturday cartoons on TV (especially the Smurfs) and reading the comics section in the Sunday Chronicle. So I've decided that Sundays will be my day to share the love....

Presenting Goofy in How to be a Sailor (1944)

9 Chickweed Lane 

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Commitment and Intimacy, A Quote

I am reading Nancy Groom's Risking Intimacy as I seek to further understand the whole commitment thing, and I came across this passage this morning. She says it much better and more succinctly than I do, I think...

Acknowledging dependence on God is often difficult for men and women accustomed to living self-sufficiently. Resting under the sovereign rule of a Being infinitely holy and altogether powerful demands of us both faith and humility, for admitting we desperately need God will deal a deathblow to our pride.

It is a delicate balance to achieve. On the one hand, every person must accept responsibility for his or her own choices and must be willing to pay the consequences when those choices are wrong. But when it comes to the eternal consequences of our sin against a holy God, there is nothing we can do to save ourselves. Oswald Chambers accurately observed, "we cannot earn or win anything from God; we must either receive it as a gift or do without it." The humility of receiving from God what we cannot do for ourselves is the cost of our salvation.

In a similar way, there are things we must ask for and be willing to receive from other people, especially those to whom we are most intimately connected. We must accept our innate neediness - not the unhealthy neediness of a clinging vine dependent on another person for identity or worth but the legitimate need we all have for human connectedness and love. It is the humility of needing God that opens us to repentance and grace, restoring us to fellowship with Him.

Yet the willingness to need requires much of us, for we are more accustomed to earning and accomplishing than to desiring and asking.

                                                                    -- Page 94

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Getting Committed

I've been thinking a lot lately about commitment and what it means. Partly spurred by the conversation happening on The People Formerly Known as the Congregation, partly spurred by my mother's visit, and partly spurred by my own general fears surrounding the issue, I've been wondering what it truly means to give yourself to someone or something.

When I think of commitment, I most often think of stoic resolution to follow something through. It is rarely associated with joy, but primarily with duty. Which I'm coming to realize is only half the picture. I've started thinking of it as a sort of push/pull relationship. We push by the discipline half, choosing to act for the other whether or not it is convenient for us or what we particularly want to do at the time. I usually think of this as the hard part - my selfishness sometimes even compels me to rationalize my actions in such a way that I find myself fully expecting the other to not only understand but applaud me for my courageous drawing of 'healthy' boundaries. Sick, right?

But as much as I often lack the discipline to act for an 'us' instead of an 'I', I think the part of commitment that has escaped me the most has been the 'pull' side. The side that requires a certain vulnerability, the humility to allow yourself to be given to. Conventional wisdom says that it is better to give than to receive, but then Biblical wisdom says that we can't give unless we have received. (This is not a commentary on whether people other than Christians can do good. They can. And do. A lot.) Maybe receiving really is where a large measure of the joy comes in. When I'm doggedly doing, trying hard to get it right and put the other first, I can completely eliminate any true relationship. I can look back and see where I've done this, and it breaks my heart. Instead of trusting the other to (albeit imperfectly) meet me, I rush to meet them, trusting my own abilities to carry us both. Which obviously fails, as I am similarly imperfect. Ultimately, instead of embracing relationship, I've just embraced my own control issues and caved in under the weight of my own fears and suspicions. On the one hand it is incredibly self-protective, but on the other hand I completely rob myself of one of my deepest desires: to rest in relationship, to trust another person with my full self, risking great pain for the potential of great joy. Scary.

I think this is true not just in relationships with other individuals, but also with God and organizations. It can all become very self-centered, although it can be very cleverly masked as piety. For example, to commit to a church (or l'abri, or any other ministry) and minister to others without allowing yourself to ministered to can lead to resentment and burnout, and rob you of any joy that could have been found, just as solely taking from the group without giving back leads to an incomplete experience.

By all of this I don't want to diminish the joy that can be found in giving. It's a total rush to be able to give meaningfully to someone you love. Or serve a cause you believe in. But, for me at least, it is easy to do it while maintaining an unhealthy autonomy, living in a protective cocoon. I want a more complete joy.

What do you think? What have I overlooked? I'd value any input that could help me clarify my thinking.

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The Blogging Church

Recently, I read The Blogging Church by Brian Bailey & Terry Storch. It is a really interesting handbook for people in churches who want (or think they may want) to enter the blogosphere, and contains a wealth of information for people of all blogging levels, with several tips that I thought were very useful. They cover everything from the 'whys' of having a blog to all of the basic 'hows' of creating the space, writing posts, and, in what I thought was a thoughtful and important chapter, some tips on reading blogs. The focus is on communication and conversation, which is a dialogue, not a monologue. Granted, most of us are not involved in church leadership, so it may make more sense to buy a book targeted at personal blogging, but if you're involved in church at all and would like to see your church (or any other organization, really) move in a more techie direction, it offers lots of ideas for things to try, both internally to enhance communication within the group, and externally to broadcast your message to a larger audience.

Personally, living here in Switzerland, I am grateful for all of the kind folks who offer content online. I would love to see our branch of  l'abri do more to that end, but as always, there are tons of questions and concerns about it. Rightly so, I think. One step in the right direction has been Greg's blog. We also have a blog on our l'abri site. Are there things y'all would like to see us do online? I'd love to emulate the community at Jacob's Well (a site referenced in the book) but I don't think anyone here has the time to create or maintain such a site. But I'd be curious to hear your thoughts, and maybe we can move towards something that would be useful to all the l'abri alum out there.

If you're interested in this type of thing, Kathy Sierra has a great blog with TONS of useful tips on blogging.

 

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Blog Layouts

I know this is a little off the beaten track from my normal posts, but April recently wrote about expanding the text area of her blog, and I thought I'd post something of an answer here since so many of y'all have blogs and maybe (hopefully) are less geeky than me. I'm certainly no expert, but as I've worked on this blogger stuff for myself as well as for Greg, I've learned a wee bit about tweaking layouts, and thought I'd share just a tad.

First, here are a couple of sites that have ready-made, nice layouts to grab and go if you want something a little different than the templates blogger offers.

Hackosphere has some great how-to articles on how to add a third column to your template, how to use expandable posts, how to add a recent comments widget and much more. I think he steps through things pretty clearly, and find his stuff useful. (These hacks apply to new blogger layouts, not the classic templates.) Also, widgetbox has a random assortment of widgets (little snippets of code you can add to your template super easily on the new blogger) if you like them.

Now, to the specific question of expanding the text area of the template that April is using (a classic template from Gecko & Fly). Well, there is a bit of a problem off the bat, as the upper part of the table the text is contained in is a graphic, which could be expanded, but would probably cause distortion of the image. So I'll throw it back to April... what do you want to do? Personally, I'm less familiar with the classic templates and find the new templates much more easily customizable, but if you want to stick with this one, we'll work it through. Sorry for the answer that is really more of a non-answer!

Please ask any questions you may have, and I'll attempt to dig up a solution if I don't know.

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Flower Power

My mom has been here for the last few weeks, and one of our projects was to try to lighten up my apartment, as the wood panelling can get a little oppressive. We both love flowers, and I love excess, so here are some pics of the new and improved living space. Hurrah!

 

My Living Room (the TV half)

 

 

 

 

 My Desk

(Sadly, yes, it's always this messy)

 

 

 

 

My Living Room (the other half)

 

The Dining Room

 

The Balcony

 

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A Generous Orthodoxy - Beginnings

Before I get to the book itself, I wanted to let y'all know what I'm thinking as far as a structure for going through it. Since it is a pretty accessible little volume, with mostly short chapters, in lieu of doing 1 a week (20 weeks seems like overkill on this one) we can do it this way: All of the stuff that precedes Chapter 1 this week, next week do Part 1, then do it in blocks of chapters 5-10, 11-15, and 16-20. That puts us at +/-  50 pages a week. Too much? I don't want to rush through it, but I also don't want to drag it out. Please let me know what y'all think, if you want to break it down more or do it every other week instead of every week. I'm open.

Now, on to the book....

I guess my first comment would be on his writing style. I have to say I don't love it. It seems too apologetic and self-effacing while at the same time almost cocky. But then, he anticipates the criticism and criticizes himself (see last full paragraph, p. 38), making actual critique difficult without feeling as though you've inadvertently stepped into one of the boxes he's already identified as containing "orthodox watchdogs" (p. 37) or some other such folks that you know you don't want to be affiliated with. I find myself distrustful of the content because of the style, even though I don't take huge issue with the content itself to date. But granted, I've not even reached Chapter 1 yet. And the way he's presented himself makes moving into Chapter 1 almost like the result of a childish dare: "Oooh, I'm so subversive. Are you sure you want to read on? It's scary out there, so only keep going if you're super open minded. You've been forewarned...."  Okay, that's probably too harsh, and I know tons of people who love his style, but that's just my own gut reaction out of the gate.

Getting out of the tone zone and into content, a few observations:

I love Leonard Sweet's image of the swing for the idea of ancient-future spirituality, with the "simultaneous kicking-back/leaning-forward, kicking-forward/leaning-back." (p. 18) Without both, there is no movement, and spirituality would be a dead, static thing instead of the dynamic, living reality that it is. I find it true on a personal level as well, as I have to embrace (though not always love) my own past and learn from it in order to move forward in a healthy way. Not cling to it and wallow in shame, but at bare minimum acknowledge it and claim it as my own, taking responsibility for things good and bad, allowing God to redeem and restore my whole life.

I appreciate the way that McLaren links orthodoxy and orthopraxy. It seems so obvious, but is so often overlooked. (See James 1:22-25 among a whole slew of other passages) At first glance, though, I may want to add a bit to his definition of orthodoxy as "what God knows, some of which we believe a little, some of which they believe a little, and about which we all have a whole lot to learn." (p. 28) I would want to add:  "Some of which God revealed and gave us to know".  He affirms scripture, the creeds (Apostles' & Nicene) and doctrine as important, but I still am left feeling as though, despite his assurances that the book doesn't "[pitch] its tent in the valley of relativism" (p. 35), there is a lack of trust in capital-T Truth. I completely affirm his obvious desire to establish dialogue and approach one another - both within various branches of Christianity as well as those in other faiths - with love and a posture of learning, but at the same time, I want to maintain the right to talk about true and false in a more definite sense, not necessarily couched with tons of disclaimers that usually end in 'for me'. I don't particularly consider myself a black and white hard-liner. I'm fairly cognizant of all the grays, and am steeped in a theology that breathes 'tension'. And yet....

Finally, I want to quote and quote again his statement that "the Holy Spirit stubbornly refuses to abandon the church even when the church quenches the Spirit" (p. 30). There is so much angst and division in the body of Christ, and it's a tragedy of epic proportions. Instead of fighting for justice, love, and mercy in a fallen world, we're often reduced to fighting one another. I wouldn't want to quell the voices calling for change (see my previous post) - I mean, read the prophets. Not exactly warm and fuzzy towards their own religion. But as important as the critique is, we also need to look for points of contact. Thank God (quite literally) that His Spirit doesn't wait to move until we've got it right. We've not been abandoned, no matter how hopeless it looks or how crappy our experience with church and Christians has been. One of my favorite things about the Bible is all of the stories of God moving in and using terribly, utterly, tragically flawed people. Like me. And you.

Sorry if I just got preachy....

Okay, that's all I've got for now. Let's get this discussion rolling!

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