Forget the homeless, stranger for a moment. In some ways it’s easy to offer acceptance to that person because we can do it from a distance. What I’m interested in hearing about is how well you accept the people in your daily circle of influence? Maybe a more applicable question is, how well do you know them? The people you work with? The people you sit next to in class? Your neighbors? Your very best friends? The people you serve with at church? Your family? Here’s my answer, you know them only as much as they are willing to let you know them. If we’re honest, we all have areas of our lives that we choose not to share, even with those closest to us. Why? As I ask this question I think of a red-faced and furious Jack Nicholson in A Few Good Men erupting with, “You can’t handle the truth!” Are you prepared to hear that your best friend was repeatedly molested by a family member as a child? What would your responsibility as a Christian be to that person, and would it be different if that friend told you instead that they had cheated on their spouse in the past?

Christians talk about acceptance and forgiveness, but don’t these concepts, in our lives, often have boundaries? I wonder if the limits to which we’ll share is relative to that which we’ll accept. I have some friends that are not afraid to peel back layer after layer of themselves, like an onion, and expose to everyone the depths of their souls. I have a certain respect and admiration for that kind of openness but, truthfully, it also scares me because I know that I am not always willing to reciprocate with the same level of openness. Fear of rejection, judgment and/or condemnation often keep us from sharing our hurts and struggles, leaving us bound to the sins, failures, victimizations and insecurities of our past and, at the same time, crippling our present. We are products of our pasts; good, bad and indifferent.

During a recent church service we incorporated what is called a “cardboard testimonial”. Friends wrote on one side of a piece of cardboard something that they’ve struggled with in their past. On the other side of the cardboard they wrote how God used that situation to change them. Nearly 20 people shared pieces of their stories in this way. The purpose of this presentation was to highlight the transformational powers of Christ in our lives. What we discovered was the potential for a deeper healing of the soul as a result of sharing our vulnerabilities with our community. Hurts, tragedies, and sins were offered for all to see, and it was beautiful to watch them received with the love and compassion of Christ by our body.

Can we actually live a life of freedom from the shackles of our past, and how can we help each other succeed? James 5:16 tells us to “…confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.” What if we really lived like this text asks us to? My questions, to this point, have revolved around how we accept others, but the bigger question is how willing are you to share yourself with your community? Can you really allow yourself to be seen? Do you believe that God promises deliverance from that which binds our hearts?

Below is a link to the cardboard testimony of another church. I dare you not to be moved as you watch this unfold. Also, as you witness the redemptive stories of others, I challenge you to consider the following:

What about your past is crippling you today? Are you willing to share yourself  so that your community can pray for you, and so God can heal you? We cannot heal what we cannot feel. Let’s use this space as our cardboard testimonial. I’ll go first. My cardboard reads on the front, “Struggle for Control in my life” and to highlight God’s transformation in me, the back of my cardboard reads, “Finally Gave Control back to God!”

What does your’s say?

I’ve recently had to study the art of Michelangelo Caravaggio, and to those of you that don’t know art this is NOT the same Michelangelo that painted the Sisteen Chapel or the one that is named after the Ninja Turtle.  This Michelangelo more known just as Caravaggio is the dark, tortured, tainted, and flawed follower of Christ with an amazing skill at painting.  He lived from about 1571-1610 and was known as a brilliant artist that painted dark and controversial paintings.  He was a bit of an indulgent, he gambled, and drank often and spent his time with what people now a days would call “low lives.”  Back in the day artists would mostly paint religious pieces commissioned by a church or some sort of  insanely rich ruler, Caravaggio painted for freedom, and for the church because he had been convicted of murdering a man and used his skills of painting to get him out of trouble (which if you study more about Caravaggio he has done this multiple time in his life.)  One of his last pieces he painted was of David and Goliath, the reason why I am speaking of this and why it stands out to me is because it is very dark (like most of his pieces) and very graphic.  If you take a look at the painting on the left you will see David holding the head of Goliath, but the interesting thing about Goliath is, Goliath is a self portrait of Caravaggio.  Caravaggio put himself in as the head of Goliath.  Some people say it’s because he was looking for Atonement from the church for his sins.  I see it more as symbolism, that we are all in some way like Goliath and we are all capable of serious evil.  Caravaggio did indeed do some evil stuff, but he was a man who feared God, just not man.  God LOVES to use flawed men, it’s something that he does often in the Bible.  The beautiful thing about God is that he is forgiving, but we are still responsible for our wrong doings.  The beautiful thing about being a christian is, that we get to try to be like Jesus, which is hard but something I love to try to do, with my strengths and with my flaws.  Do you think that this art is good or bad?  Do you feel as though we even as God fearing christians can do and sometimes will do things that are evil or are against God’s will?  What do you think Caravaggio could have been saying?  What does this mean to you?  I think I am capable of anything, especially when I am thinking of God first and striving to be more like Jesus.  Do you think Caravaggio was fully concerned during some of his darkest times, of being more like Jesus?  Just some things to thing about, and some exploration of old world art.  Look up some more Caravaggio it’s brilliant stuff, some of my favorites are:  The Doubting of Thomas, and The Calling of Matthew.

At the end of last week, eight American missionaries were released from Haiti after having been detained on kidnapping charges for nearly three weeks.

In case you haven’t heard the story, a group of Christian missionaries traveled to Haiti after the January 12th earthquake devestated the area, with the mission of rescuing Haitian children by exporting them to the neighboring country of the Dominican Republic where their plan was to establish an orphanage for children of the earthquake. When these missionaries attempted to export 33 children without going through the proper channels, the local Haitian government arrested the group on charges of kidnapping.

Now, much can be debated as to the effectiveness of the Haitian nation and it’s government; their policies, economic conditions and solvency, standards, integrity and methods. Instead, what I’d like to consider are the actions of the missionaries. First, however, I would like to make one thing clear; I am not passing judgment on any individuals or the motives of this collective missionary group. I assume their intentions were sincere and genuine. Who wouldn’t want to help lost and frightened children?

My questions center around the methods employed by this group. Maybe they will eventually share their insights in retrospect of their actions. For now I can’t help but ask, were they right in what they were trying to do? Were they right in how they tried to do it? Did they intend to march into a foreign country, disobey all laws and establish their own rules in the name of Jesus? Does Jesus give us that authority? What does the non-Christian world see in the actions of this group? Should that even have been a consideration? Should the local government of the poorest nation in the western hemisphere trump Jesus? Was Jesus truly represented in the actions of these missionaries? What guidance can we find in Scripture about the intentions vs. the actions of this likely well-meaning group? Is it possible that religious arrogance got in the way of compassion? Have you ever struggled with finding balance in doing what you feel God calling you to do when it meant potentially crossing other established boundaries? I’ll say this, and then I’d like your opinion. One thing I know for sure is that it’s easy to take a side either way and determine right from wrong from our reclining chair. If I think in terms of my experience as a father, I know I would do just about anything to preserve the safety and dignity of my children. Is that God-given authority or is it something else? Is that how God feels about us? I know the Bible has account after account of God allowing humankind to suffer the consequences of our own mistakes (sometimes assimilated with the wrath of God). Consequences are real. What does any of this mean?

I know, I know, too many questions, but isn’t that where we often find ourselves… right in the middle of too many questions without enough answers? Okay, for the sake of simplification, I’ll whittle it all down to this one question:  As Christians, what are our rules of engagement as we fight for justice in a diverse world so sharply divided by competing rules, laws, ethics and morals? Your turn… ready, go.

As a teen and until now there was a band that stood out in my catalog, the one I listened to the most, the one I connected to the best…My Favorite band.  Now when I was a teen favorite bands were important, they proved who you were, it was common for someone to ask “What’s your favorite band?” or “Who are you listening to right now?”  As if the answer to those questions would let you deeply understand who I was.  The band for me was Sunny Day Real Estate, and I do believe that most of you probably have no clue who they are.  Well to me they were the world, everything I had ever wanted in music, although the band themselves were deeply unstable, with a few break ups here and there, they were a beacon for me to rely on in the “harsh, dark and cruel world” of high school.  Excuse my cynicism but when I think about it now in retrospect, I find it tremendously comical.  The lead singer of Sunny Day Real Estate’s name is Jeremy Enigk.  He was my role model, he was someone I looked up to without ever meeting him or knowing him deeply.  The only thing I knew deeply was his music and his biography which I had read on the internet.  Enigk found Jesus somewhere around the realease of the band’s second album in 1995.  This caused some drama in the band because Enigk’s vision changed, the band broke up and reunited about 4 times in the next 6 or 7 years, till about 2002 when they said they were done for good.  Fortunately for me I was able to see them when I was 17 in 2000, which was the best show I had seen at that time.

This past year in October of 2009, I had the wonderful opportunity of hearing that Sunny Day was back together again for the millionth time.  At this point in my life I realized that Sunny Day wasn’t what it used to be for me.  I realized that music isn’t what made me who I am, although I did realize this years prior it just hit me hard when I found out Sunny Day was touring again.  Their tour did come through Houston, so I went with my brother in-law and a close friend of mine from Jersey to see the show.  We got there early thinking the show would be jammed packed with people.  There was no one there at all when we got there except Jeremy Enigk by his tour bus smoking a cigarette.  I saw him as I was parking my car and screamed out loud like a little girl.  I parked the car fast and walked fast to the tour bus where he still was by himself smoking a cigarette.  I approached him with a smile and said “I just wanted to say hi and let you know i’m excited to see the show.”  He looked at me a little surprised that I even knew who he was.  He then smiled bashfully and shuck my hand and said “Hello.”  I asked him how long he has been in Houston and he responded by saying he was there all day and he went to a karate school and watched people practice karate through a window.  We took a picture together and then I walked off.  After that experience I realized the man that I considered my role model in my teenage years just talked to me about watching kids do karate.  Was he really my role model?  Or was I just being cool?  I could not figure out why he was a role model besides the fact that he was in my favorite band and he loved Jesus.  Not that he isn’t a good guy because he shares his soul in his music and he is incredibly spiritual and talented, I just realized I didn’t know anything about him personally to really asses why he would by my role model.  I think this happens more often then we think.  Our real role models a lot of times aren’t in our music or movies, but they are in our homes and classrooms.  As cliche and corny as that last sentence sounds, I think it is true, because after 26 years of life I realize that my mother is my role model…she is the person I want to use as model of who I want to become.  Who is your role model?  Is there a famous or not so famous person that you think may be your role model?  Why is this person your role model?  Btw that is a picture of Jeremy Enigk and I in Houston, he was a lot smaller than I expected.

Sunny Day Real Estate albums to Listen to:

Diary

How it feels to be something on (my favorite)

Jeremy Enigk solo albums to listen to:

Return of the Frog Queen

Ok Bear (my favorite, just released last year)

This week I watched a mother bury her young daughter. I watched as the casket closed and she caught the last glimpse of her daughter’s body. I watched as a family mourned; a brother and a sister in shock, and a mother and a father in a haze of dark, surrealism. I hurt for them. It also reminded me of personal tragedy in my own past. I hurt for myself as well.  

This week, I also counseled a man whose wife had left him. Distraught, and with small children in tow, he is lost and frightened. I hurt for him. It also reminds me of tragedy in my own life. I hurt for myself as well.

I sometimes find myself reaching deep inside, desperately grasping for something to offer in these situations, something to ease the pain. It feels like treading water in hopelessness. For the sake of honesty, I must admit that I struggle with balancing a need to repair the brokenness in others, and embracing the reality of my limitations. I want to be a fixer-of-problems, and I sometimes find it difficult to live in this tension. In retrospect, many parts of my adult life have been defined by various levels of success and failure in dealing with this type of tension. I am a father who wants to guide his children in patience and love, but sometimes I fail. I am a husband who wants to always offer solutions, safety and compassion, but sometimes I fail. I am a friend who wants to always offer stability, but sometimes I fail. I am a child of God who wants to be used in the glorification of our risen Lord, but I know that sometimes I fail.   

I’ve come to believe that God calls me into the lives of others, but when I get there, I sometimes question why and what it is that I really have to offer. Over time, however, I have discovered a strange peace in embracing my limitations, and in admitting that I do not have a solution to every problem. It sounds simple on the outside of a situation, but defining my limitations helps to refocus my attention and strengthens my reliance on God. It also can allow others to find their limitations and deeper reliance on God as well. As I learn to embrace this tension, I am discovering tremendous opportunity for personal growth. I find hope in realizing that when I get to the end of myself, I’ll find God. I just need to step out of the way more. That is what I can offer and ironically, the more I engage life, the more I put myself out there, the more I stretch myself. That also means, however, the more I have to face the limitations of my own abilities. A strangely beautiful cycle and one that, for me, offers meaning and purpose, even in pain of loss and helplessness.   

Also, by engaging in the lives of others, I also see things that are holding me back from living the full life that God has created for me. I am both blessed and helpless at the same time. In the reality of others, I see my own reality. I believe that’s part of God’s plan for us. We are all part of a larger tapestry. I’ve known people that have retreated into isolation, both physically and metaphorically, in an attempt to escape reality, and it makes me wonder if true growth is really possible without passing through the lives of others, without sharing stories, time and space within community, even (and maybe especially) when it hurts.  I’ve learned that there is a huge difference in feeling helpless and feeling hopeless.

So I ask you, are you willing to embrace your limitations? Do you feel the tension between helplessness and hopelessness and if so, how do you deal with it? I really want to know. Let’s share some space.

I just recently watched “The Book of Eli” which was a wonderful thing considering the first few movies I watched in this short while into 2010 have not been so good.  This movie was very good.  I’m a sucker for stories, and the story line of this film was so intriguing and spiritual, and not what I was expecting.  The plot of the film (which I will no go into acute detail for the sake of not spoiling the movie for those of you who have not seen it yet) is set in post apocalyptic Earth and the story follows a man (Denzel Washington) that feels he is called to take the last Bible in existence West where there is talk of a civilized society that is trying to restore humanity.  It shows his struggles of making his way westward, without actually having any clue where to go and the trials and tribulations that are in his way, such as people trying to steal from him and kill him for the book.  The movie is highly violent but riddled with spiritual Under and Overtones and for the sake of ruining the story I will end the plot description here.

What I took away from this movie is something that most probably should have.  The main point to me was to follow God’s lead blindly.  Without question, without complaint, we are called to follow Him, even if we don’t understand.  It kind of put that back into perspective to me for sometimes we forget that we are not the ones who should question the Lord, which we all do daily.  God uses people in so many ways even when we don’t understand.  Such as why did God chose two men (Allen and Albert Hughes) to direct “The Book of Eli” that have no real belief or faith in their lives currently, and it’s a movie based on believing in faith and spiritual guidance?  I think it’s because God knew they were best fit for it.  Either way it’s not for us to question.  If you were to be put in a position where you were supposed to blindly go somewhere without knowing where you would end, would you have the courage to do so without complaint, questioning or complete understanding for Gods will?  What feelings would have if you were told to go west and keep moving until you find what it is you are looking for?

About 4 years ago I had a conversation with my father in-law who at that time was just my girlfriend’s father.  He took me out to lunch to get a better feel of who I was and my background.  It was a few days prior to father’s day.  We talked for quite some time and he asked me innocent questions of my past, present and where I wanted my future to be.  I’ll never forget how he seemed truly interested in the things I told him and my plans for life.  He asked me about my father and let me know that my dad must have been a good one because he did a god job on me.  Unfortunately I had to let him know that my mother is to credit because she was my father and my father was a let down and no where to be found in my youth.  He went on to ask me questions about him, in which some I didn’t have the answers to because I didn’t know much about him.  In the effect that it was close to Father’s Day and my father in-law is a God-Fearing, spiritual, Bible quoting, wonderfully challenging man, he challenged me to do something I will never forget…he said I should call my father on Father’s Day.  I was slightly shocked because my wife (Rebecca) had been challenging me to talk to my father as well ever since we started dating.  I asked him why he thought I should call him,  he said “The Bible tells us to honor thy father and mother, period.”  I had a very perplexed look on my face, and then he continued, “It doesn’t say honor thy father and mother only if they are really good people and parents, it just commands us to honor them.”  That statement haunted and consumed my thoughts for about 2 years.

A couple months ago I saw the film “Precious: Based on the novel Push by Sapphire.”  It was one of the most brutal, honest, painful, sad, and hopeful movies I have ever seen.  It was about a 16 year old girl’s journey of learning to read and write while dealing with physical, emotional and sexual abuse, being raped by her father and beaten by her mother.  She was pregnant with her second child, both children given to her by her father.  Her resilience was fascinating and her drive to learn and make her children’s lives better than her own gave me a vision of hope in which I have never seen.  It was one of the most beautiful films I have ever seen.  I was moved by this story, although it was fictional it was derived from real life situations that women have been in.  I am going to stop here with the description of the plot because I feel it is a film that everyone should see and I don’t want to spoil this inspirational story, read the book too, it will rock your socks off…neither the movie nor the book are for young audiences.

Now how do those two completely different paragraphs even pertain to anything I could be thinking?  This I shall explain.  Precious has caused me to do a lot of thinking in the last couple months, helping me realize the amazing blessings I have had in my life and the way God has always seemed to get my back.  It’s helped me count my blessings in my life with the situation I have with my father.  My wife was even led to say “I feel as though I should never complain about anything in my life ever again” after watching Precious.  I have been stirred up in thought about my own father after watching this movie.  My situation with my father is not at all in any way similar to Precious’ situation, it just made me think about bad fathers in general and how up to about 2 years ago my father hadn’t been really a father to me at all.  I began to think about others in my situation or in worse situations such as Precious and how earthly fathers are so important to the foundation and growth of a child.  When there is a lack in a male spiritual mentor it does truly effect a child. I didn’t realize it effected me until about 2 years ago when I was 24 years old.  It was quite a pivotal moment in my life when I woke up and realize that I was severely depressed by the status of my father and I’s relationship.  The feeling was suffocating and crippling, I felt as though I could not properly manage  loving my own children (when I have them one day), unless have some sort of relationship with my own father.  To make a long story short, we had a talk and I told him how our relationship was going to be, and what I needed and expected from him.  It turned out a lot better than what I was anticipating, he seemed to respond to my pain and relate with my feelings.  It seems that this trend of fathers has been in many generations of my family besides this one, and unfortunately my father had fallen into that mold.  Our relationship has grown tremendously and my father has been able to inspire me to understand reasons why I love him, which is quite refreshing (hope and resilience, like Precious).  This was truly inspired by the challenge that my father in-law and wife had issued me some years ago, and it’s one of the many reasons I love both of them with all my heart.  If you were or are in a situation that Precious was in would you be able to honor your father or mother?  If you were or are in a situation more like mine with a father or mother that shares empty promises and was never there for you, would you be able to honor your father or mother?  Think deeply and hardly.

I began following R.E.M. during my first year of college.  At that time, their steady rise to fame had just begun and I’ve been a fan through the years. That’s why a recent headline caught my eye quoting Michael Stipe regarding a friend of his, respected musician and fellow Georgian, Vic Chesnutt. If you haven’t heard of Vic you aren’t alone, I hadn’t either until December 26, 2009, the day after his death on Christmas Day from an overdose of muscle relaxers. I saw the story headline, but I didn’t have time to read it. 

Several days later, while in the middle of one of my favorite past-times of searching for new and quality independent-label musicians, one website I frequent suggested several artists based on my musical taste and there he was again; Vic Chesnutt. This time I followed the lead, pulled up digital versions of all of his albums and sampled most of them. Within an hour, I owned two of his last albums (is it okay to still call them that even though they are mp3 downloads?), “North Star Deserter” and “At the Cut”, both recorded with the backing support of a hidden gem-of-a-band by the name of Silver Mt. Zion and Fugazi guitarist Guy Picciotto. Considering my ever-obsessive interest in music, I was surprised that I hadn’t at least heard of someone with over a dozen albums throughout a 20+ year career.

Since downloading these two albums, I have hardly stopped listening to them and I have learned that Vic Chesnutt was an amazing wordsmith. His lyrics, often flowing like poetry, were meticulously crafted to tell some deeply personal stories, mostly soaked in tragedy and sorrow. Such was his life. You should know that Vic, in the early 80’s at age 18, was injured in a car accident while driving drunk. He lost most of the movement in his legs, a lot of the mobility in his arms and his hands were greatly compromised. So while his body was confined to a wheel chair, Vic relearned to play the guitar with simple chords and only a few fingers, and with a very limited musical structure to work with and a uniquely gritty voice, Vic spent the following 26 years rising out of his chair in the ether of his storytelling and musical genius.

His sound is rooted in folk with streams of other influences such as jazz, soul, and country flowing through it. His voice, sometimes rugged and graveled in a heavy Dylan/Springsteen kind-of- way while other times floating weightless in a beautiful falsetto, is usually accompanied only by the minimalist sounds of his lonely guitar. In his music are, naturally, stories of loss, pain, sadness and vacancy; an imprisoned perspective that few can entirely relate to. Yet, if we’re honest, his music is at the same time deeply accessible on multiple levels. The place from which his art stems is hauntingly and intensely real.

However, pointing you to the work of Vic Chesnutt is not the point of this writing, although some will undoubtedly (and wisely) seek his work. No, there is more to his story that I find fascinating. You see, he was raised in a Christian home and yet, from the age of 13, Vic was an admitted atheist. He writes about this dichotomy some in his music. One would have hoped that from his tragic accident, he would have reformed from his formidable lifestyle and embraced a new appreciation for life. That was not the case for Vic. His personal choices in life would likely be defined as unfortunate by many, battling alcohol and drug abuse for most, if not all, his adult life. There are stories written about him describing his drunken belligerence in the public music scene during the earlier part of his career. He was rather anti-establishment and as a result of near medical bankruptcy at the end of his life, he was outspokenlycritical of America’s health care system. He writes of watching his mother die a painful death from cancer, begging mercy from Jesus and Vic had a long-time preoccupation with death, attempting suicide 3-4 times through the years before his successfully-fatal overdose last month.  

You may not have liked the person. You may disagree with his viewpoints. You might not like his music. However, Vic Chesnutt was, if nothing else, brutally honest about life as he saw it and he openly acknowledged the complexities he saw in life. In the midst of the conflict and controversy surrounding Vic’s work, here’s what I take away from listening to his music. He makes me think. He makes me think about my position on social justice issues. He makes me think about my own spirituality and theology. He makes me think about my own mortality. He makes me think about the pain in my life and the pain in the lives of others. He makes me think about compassion and also about anger. He makes me think about being broken and the hope of being fixed. He makes me solidify where I stand in regards to my personal beliefs. All this from a crippled and indulgent atheist. So here are my questions. What would you do as a Christian about Vic Chesnutt? Would you protest his music? Would you even listen to it? Would you hear the stories and appreciate the realism or would you dismiss him as a bad influence? Would you embrace him as a human being or would you turn back into your comfortable circle? What is our role as Christians in God’s Kingdom? Are you intimidated by atheists? We know that Jesus hung out with outcasts, but do we really buy that we should too? What if we are the outcasts? Who do you hang out with? Who are you influenced by, and who do you influence?  

One of the last songs Vic wrote was called, “Flirted With You All of My Life”. He called it his break-up song with death. In it he reminisces about his preoccupation with death saying that he’s flirted with her all his life before coming to the realization and celebrating, ”Oh Death / Oh Death / Oh Death / Really, I’m not ready / Oh Death / Oh Death / Oh Death / Clearly, I’m not ready.” This song was released 3 months prior to his death by apparent suicide. 

Vic Chesnutt makes me think. What makes you think?