Lovely Rita, Meter Maid

Well, not gonna be able to listen to that Beatles song again without flashing back on last weekend.

What follows is a random series of stories & impressions post-Hurricane Rita.

- I'm thankful that the storm skated east of Houston... Shari's family was holed up in Conroe (north of Houston) and fully expected to lose the barn/apartment on their new property as well as see their unsold former home flood if Rita hit them full force. As it is, they're without power and running the fridge & some fans off a borrowed generator, but there's no major damage.

- Being thankful for the hurricane not hitting my in-laws makes me feel guilty - because it isn't like the hurricane just fizzled out and did no damage. It actually came ashore in my old stomping grounds, southeast Texas. Back in 1987-88, I was the minister of youth in a little (smaller than NewLife) Baptist church in Silsbee, TX - Good Shepherd Baptist Church. I went into Beaumont every week to see a movie, pick up the new comic books, and just hang out. Seeing the pictures from Beaumont & Port Arthur are disconcerting, to say the least.

- I've been trying to get in touch with the pastor of Good Shepherd this week - but the phones are down & the power is out. I can still see the church in my mind's eye, and then I try to imagine what kind of damage they sustained. (The church sits in a bit of a hole, kind of like NewLife, and I have this sick feeling that they have a combination of wind damage & flooding.)

- My memories of Good Shepherd are really positive - it was my first full-time church position and the folks there were incredibly kind to me. I was hired as the summer youth minister after my first year at seminary... and things went so well that they invited me to continue on through the school year. They even gave me one work day a week to attend seminary (in Houston).

- I learned how to do hospital visits in Beaumont. Bro. Fred (our pastor) drug me along & had me watch him. Then, the next person we visited, he had me pray. By the end of the day, he was letting me do most of the talking. (Can't say enough good things about Fred Raney... he was a gift to me as a young minister.)

- I'm a little ticked that the news media is so focused on New Orleans & Houston. It feels like natural disasters really aren't that bad unless they happen to big cities.

All of this reflecting takes me (of course) someplace spiritual...

In the film, "Three Amigos", Steve Martin's character (Lucky Day) gives a short speech, meant to be encouraging as the little village gets ready to face down the bandit king, El Guapo:

I suppose you could say that everyone has an El Guapo. For some, shyness may be an El Guapo. For others, lack of education may be an El Guapo. But for us, El Guapo is a large ugly man who wants to kill us!

For some, your El Guapo may be a hurricane. For others, it's the storms of life. (Most of us don't have to worry about a large, ugly man wanting to kill us.)

I can't control the weather. I can't make a storm stop in it's tracks or change direction. If a hurricane is coming my way, I can either run or board up my house & ride it out.

I can't control most of the storms in my life, either. Oh, yeah... I know there's lots of storms we bring on ourselves (bad financial habits, insufficient courage to do the right thing, etc.) But many of the things that hit us are due to the mistakes & sins of others.

So the question is: how do I react to those storms? Have I properly prepared my life to deal with disaster, or am I pretending that "nothing bad will ever happen to me"? Look, if someone promised you that following Jesus would protect you from bad stuff, they obviously didn't pay attention in Sunday School. The Bible is filled with stories of bad things happening to people who love God: stonings, beatings, murder, natural disaster, shipwreck, flood, etc. Christianity is not a magic talisman to ward off difficult circumstances.

Instead, followers of Christ are spiritually prepared for the storms of life... armed with the peace of God's presence and the call to live out what they believe.

Don't fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God's wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It's wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life.
Philippians 4:6-8 (The Message)

So, I'll ask again: are you ready for the storm? It's coming.

The waves crash in the tide rolls out
It's an angry sea but there is no doubt
That the lighthouse will keep shining out
To warn a lonely sailor
And the lightning strikes
And the wind cuts cold
Through the sailor's bones
Through the sailor's soul
'Til there's nothing left that he can hold
Except a rolling ocean

Oh I am ready for the storm
Yes sir ready
I am ready for the storm
I'm ready for the storm

Oh give me mercy for my dreams
'Cause every confrontation seems to tell me
What it really means
To be this lonely sailor
And when the sky begins to clear
The sun it melts away my fear
And I shed a silent weary tear
For those who mean to love me

chorus

The distance it is no real friend
And time will take its time
And you will find that in the end
It brings you me
This lonely sailor
And when You take me by the hand
And You love me, Lord, You love me
And I should have realized
I had no reasons to be frightened

chorus

"Ready For the Storm", written by Dougie MacLean (recorded by Rich Mullins on his Winds of Heaven, Stuff of Earth album)

This article originally appeared in the 9/29/05 edition of The Grapevine, the newsletter of NewLife Community Church.

Enter Pastor Man

I promised earlier in the week (two weeks ago - sorry!) to tell my own story about the whole "sacred vs. secular" thing... esp. as it applies to music. If you don't know what the heck I'm talking about, start by reading Enter Church History Man (and the connecting link to Scott's story).

Anyway, back to my personal corner of the Cultural Wars.

I grew up listening primarily to classical music (my folks bought a lot of classical records), show tunes (my mom loved musicals) and jazz (primarily Dixieland, with a bit of Dave Brubeck mixed in.) It wasn't until I went to work for my dad the summer following my sixth grade year that I heard much of that crazy animal the kids call "rock'n'roll".

For ten cents a bottle, I cleaned & sterilized glass bottles by hand... and at the end of the summer, I had enough money saved up to buy my own stereo. It had a turntable, a AM/FM radio, a cassette player and an 8-track tape player. (Anybody else remember that "ka-thunk" noise every time an 8-track changed sections?) My mom bought me Eddie Albert's Greatest Hits (still wonder what she was thinking).

One of the guys who worked for my dad gave me some old 45's he had... so my formative years were spent with the Doobie Brothers & the Steve Miller Band. Mike, the older kid across the street, let me listen to his favorite albums - Led Zepplin, Kiss, and the Beach Boys. K-Earth, L.A.'s longtime "classics" station, played a steady diet of the Beatles, Yes, Moody Blues, ELP, and the like.

Mom didn't particularly like the music I listened to, but as long as I wore the headphones and didn't irritate the rest of the family with it, it wasn't any big deal.

My first "Christian rock" albums came courtesy of my friend, Keith, who gave me his copies of Petra's Come & Join Us and Keith Green's "So You Wanna Go Back To Egypt." (Ba-manna bread!) I played these albums for my mom, who responded to Petra's cover of God Gave Rock'n'Roll To You with an exasperated sigh and a crack about the difference between God's perfect & God's permissive will. (Evidently, Bill Gaither is God's perfect will, Keith Green less so, and Petra was "right out.")

That was the beginning of creating a very large collection of primarily (but not exclusively) "contemporary Christian music." At the same time I was soaking up stuff like Whiteheart, Sweet Comfort Band & Leon Patillo, I was also buying albums from ELO, Rick Wakeman, and Jethro Tull. (I still have a very strong memory of listening to Pink Floyd's "The Wall" for the first time in my good friend's bedroom... all of us very serious and deep as only teenagers can be about "we don't need no education.")

I managed to avoid the whole "backward masking/subliminal message" hoo-ha that permeated some conservative church circles in the late 70's/early 80's... oh, I heard about it, but it didn't really make any difference to me. Frankly, it didn't (and still doesn't) make sense... Something that's played backwards goes into my subconscious backwards. What good is that to Satan or anybody else for that matter?

College brought a whole new set of bands to my attention. I traded a Sandi Patti tape to a guy in my dorm for the 77's "Ping Pong on the Abyss"... and the same guy is the one who first let me hear Prodigal (a long extinct art rock group with some excellent ideas.) Meanwhile, my roommate was introducing me to Alan Parsons Project, and one of the Christian magazines I got was breaking the news about this cool new band from across the Atlantic named U2.

My musical tastes continued to range across the map. Thanks to another roommate, I was introduced to the incredible writing & music of Stephen Sondheim. Around the same time, I found and bought all 4 releases from a new Word label - Broken Records. (That would be Youth Choir - later the Choir, Ojo Taylor, Altar Boys - whose lead singer would later lead worship for my mom & dad's Sunday School class, and Crumbacher. Man, I miss Crumbacher... talk about your 80's synth-pop bands. Of course, when I went hunting for a link for this post, I found out that they've not only released a demo/b-sides album in the late 90's but they also just played a live reunion show with the rest of the Broken Records bands in August!)

I found the Talking Heads one evening when looking for someting to try out on the campus library's new CD listening stations. And this was about the time that...

...but my musical history isn't really the point, right? So we'll fast forward to 1991, as I struggled with how to teach kids to make wise decisions about what they put in their heads musically. As a part of that process, I decided that it was time to ditch my non-Christian tapes... and so we sold 200+ tapes in a yard sale. I'm not sure what it said to the kids (that was a pretty turbulent period in my ministry), but it was a big step for me to walk away from the music that I enjoyed. For the next few years, I didn't buy any non-Christian albums... not out of hatred of "secular" music, but in an attempt to walk closer to God.

Over time, I realized that the primary reasons I'd chosen to renounce "secular" music were others-based... sometimes the healthy thought of the power of my influence, sometimes the poisonous stew of people-pleasing & faking church that's so easy to do when you're paid to be a professional Christian. When Shari & I finally chose to buy a CD player and begin replacing my extensive tape collection with CD's, I rather cautiously began buying non-Christian CD's again.

Oddly enough, the book that inspired me most during this re-acquisition phase was written by one of my favorite fiction authors, Stephen Lawhead. Back in 1985, he wrote a book on engaging pop culture entitled Turn Back The Night. (I'd link to it, but it is so seriously OOP that no one even has a picture of the cover.) In it, he proposed four "boxes" to use in sorting out art:

• good art, good message
• good art, bad message
• bad art, good message
• bad art, bad message

Good art, good message is the sublime intersection of talent & timing & the breath of God that results in albums like Steve Taylor's Squint, Charlie Peacock's The Secret of Time, U2's The Joshua Tree or Rich Mullins A Liturgy, A Legacy & A Ragamuffin Band. (This is the easy one to define: both the quality of the writing, production, and performance is high as well as the message lining up with the life & word of Jesus Christ.)

Good art, bad message is that odd & difficult place where the incredible skill of the artist is used to say something that does not reflect the truth of God... Prince (the artist formely known as) is a classic example of this for me, as is much of Stephen Sondheim's work on the Broadway stage.

Bad art, good message is, unfortunately, where much of CCM (contemporary Christian music) lives... welding the Gospel of Jesus Christ to poorly produced rehash of what was popular last year. Cheesy writing, inadequate production, overblown performances... you get the picture. I'm flashing on "Dear Mr. Jesus" and "Touch of a Master's Hand" right now. (Now, I don't intend to tar & feather all of CCM with this indictment... just that all too often, the excuse "The message is good" acts as a cover for mediocre art.)

Bad art, bad message is also pretty easy to spot. The message is bad and so is the quality of the production. Most of this kind of stuff disappears quickly - anybody besides those guys doing "rock'n'roll is evil" videos actually remember Black Oak Arkansas?

And, of course, the grid isn't just for music - it works great with any kind of pop culture/art piece.

A short note on truth: a good message (well, a "true" message) does not have to be evangelistic and/or explicitly reference God or the Bible. Truth is true even without a chapter & verse reference. The question is, "Do these lyrics reflect Biblical truth?", not "Do these lyrics sound like they were written by a Southern Baptist preacher?"

Well, that's where I live now. Most of my non-Christian additions to my collection now are either:

1. highly recommended artists with profound things to say (David Wilcox, Ben Harper)
2. 80's music I remember fondly (the Hooters, Asia, and, yes, even Go West's greatest hits)

Party on, dude.

Twister!

Fasten your seatbelts... I'm going to ramble through a lot of territory today. For those of you who've been wondering when I'd post about games again, this may help. Or it may not, because I've got a lot more than games on my mind.

I got sick Friday night with the same evil stomach flu thingee that sidelined Shari earlier in the week. I spent Saturday in front of the TV set, watching college football (the UT-Ohio State would have been much more fun if I was feeling better) and the last few episodes of the first season of Lost. I also spent some serious time worrying about whether I'd survive Sunday.

You see, Sunday was one of those "heavy load - use your back, not your legs" days in ministry. I started a new teaching series (entitled EPIC) which uses a lot of video clips. Right after services, I led a training meeting for the capital campaign leadership... then I got a 2 hour break. Actually, not a break as much as "some time where I wasn't at the church". (Shari & I had to plan for the experience we were leading that evening.) Then back to the church to lead Church Council, followed by "Church: a hands-on experience", which is the aforementioned thingee Shari & I are doing to help get our folks ready for ministry in a postmodern culture.

By the time I went to bed, I had a 102 fever. It broke some time during the night... but was back up to 101 by the morning. Needless to say, I didn't go into the office on Monday. Instead, I did a bit of work from home via computer and got to watch Shari & Braeden as they homeschooled. (Which was cool... Shari's an incredibly gifted teacher and Braeden's like a knowledge sponge.)

This week, Braeden is learning about himself - Monday was about the body. So Shari picked up a copy of Twister, which wasn't previously a part of the family game collection. And I, as The Sick Guy, was designated referee, which means I got to spin the spinner.

For the first time in my life, I read the rules to Twister. (Really - there are rules.) And there's a bit more of a game there than what you grew up playing. (Like Monopoly... sigh.) I didn't realize you could move a hand or leg and return it to the position as long as you let the referee know beforehand. And it became obvious quickly that there are some board position issues (it pays to stake out a lot of real estate so you don't get cut off) if you're trying to win.

For the record, Braeden wasn't all that fascinated with Twister, but he's actually a bit young (4 when the box says 6+) to enjoy it. I think he might like it better solo or with his buddy Canaan. Playing against Mom is a bit of a mismatch.

My reaction to Twister? I found myself surprised that I didn't hate it. Now, that may seem a strongly worded shot at an American classic, but that's what came boiling up when I took the lid off my feelings. With nothing better to do than lay on the couch & stare at the ceiling fans (Monday Night Football wasn't on yet), I decided to unpack those feelings a bit.

Here's what I think. Twister, along with it's "cousins", Funny Bones (sadly out of print) and Octopus (so obscure I need to add it to the Geek database), are very "body-conscious" games. I discovered Funny Bones at my ACTUAL cousins' home in Missouri (and played primarily with them) as an elementary school kid. Shari & I didn't buy Octopus until after we were married. Twister, OTOH, entered my life during junior high.

Think about it... at a time in a young man's life in which he has the worst possible body image (because his puberty-driven growth betrays him with broken voice & clutzy ineptitude) as well as the most heart-destroying social scene, get him to play a game like Twister in front of people he hopes will think he's cool. Recipe for freakin' disaster.

And, since those lovely images from the Turner Classic Movie Channel of my mind came rolling back, right next to them are the two times I played Spin the Bottle. (Yes, there is a Spin the Bottle entry on the Geek... but we all know that's not what I'm talking about.) The red-faced embarassment, the meaningless kisses, the agony of watching the girl I liked kissing another guy, the sound of the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack playing in the background...

And there I realized that I wanted to make sure that Braeden & Collin, when they're old enough, understand how precious it is to kiss a girl. What a privilege it is to have that kind of physical contact with God's creation... and how sad it is to waste it on a circle of junior highers. I can't stop my boys from doing painful things - but that doesn't mean I shouldn't let 'em know how empty it can be... or how a simple kiss can be filled with meaning.

Whew... pretty deep for a Thursday morning. And all started over a game of Twister. Imagine how nutty I'd have gotten if the memory train ran past Gnip Gnop or Which Witch? :-)

Supernatural Disaster

Joe McKeever is the director of missions of the New Orleans Baptist Association... as you can imagine, he's had an insane couple of weeks. (Which, of course, you can read about over on his website.) Mark Puckett, my Canadian pastor buddy, called the following post to my attention and I just wanted to pass it on. It's incredibly cool to here someone seeing the incredible opportunity for the body of Christ to re-tool because of something this horrible.

HERE'S MY DREAM FOR WHEN THIS IS ALL OVER.... Over the past 16 months as I've gone in and out of churches all over metro New Orleans, I've been struck by how alive and vibrant some are and how sickly and needy others seem. Some are healthy champions and others practically on life support. And the poor pastors of the sickly churches, it's all they can do to get up the strength to re-enter the pulpit for another Sunday.

Our people in New Orleans have heard it from me time and again that our churches are ISOLATED and therefore our people are INSULATED. The members of one church do not know the members of another, leaders do not know other leaders, and everyone feels alone and lonely. Whenever a prophet arises and speaks up and calls for God's people to break out of their cocoons, their shells of isolation, and get into the community and get to know their neighbors and to minister in Jesus' name, he is met by stares of despair that seem to say, "You don't know my situation. I'm so busy with my committee meetings and church programs and classes. I don't have time for my family now, and you're trying to put more jobs on me."

So, what does the Lord do? He shut the whole business down. Closed all the churches in the New Orleans area, every last one of them. Then, He sent the pastors home to rest and be quiet and pray. It's as though God is giving them time to reflect on what they would do if they could start their church anew, from scratch, from the ground up.

Here's a good question for every New Orleans pastor: "If you could start from scratch with your people, what would you leave off? What would you start? What would you do different?" Because this is precisely the situation you have been handed. God has given you a burden for ministering in your neighborhood in ways that really make a difference, don't ask anyone, pastor, just start doing it. If you've had dead programs that refused to lie down and go away, then simply do not restart them. Now, pastor, don't use that terminology. Just tell your people, "We'll get to that later as the Lord leads." That's not a fib; if God leads, you will get to it. But not until.

When we re-enter the city, we are going to have the greatest window of opportunity most of us have ever seen and may ever see again in our lifetime. If we are foolish, we will piddle this time away with planning meetings and discussions and forums. We will neglect the hurting people who live around us and convince them that we are irrelevant to real life. The greatest tragedy of Katrina, THE REAL SUPERNATURAL DISASTER, will be if our pastors and our churches miss this opportunity. Let's don't mess this up.

The Church Part

Every Sunday night through the summer, NewLife hosts what we call "Cool Summer Nights" at the home of one of our families. It's combination worship service/potluck dinner/pool party. Of course, Braeden loves it. Though he was very clear a few weeks ago that he wished "the church part didn't come first." Here he & his friend, Canaan, are waiting "patiently".

BTW, y'all realize that this is the same look I get from some adults on Sunday morning - those who've come in for their weekly "Zombies for Jesus Convention." Makes preaching/teaching ever so fun. :-)

Jumbled

As in, "My thoughts are jumbled."

A short tour of my mental landscape...

Last Sunday

Braeden & I arrive home from camping with church folks (much fun was had). I crank up the e-mail and find a blizzard of posts on the Gulf Games list... warnings from Warren Madden (hurricane hunter w/the Weather Channel & Gulf Gamer) about the potential severity of Katrina, questions asking the whereabouts of Lenny, Henry, the Moore's, the Cortazzo's, the LaBranche, Jim & Erin and others. I'm usually pretty cool about natural disasters (positive spin: I'm objective; negative spin: I'm cold as a fish) but I break down trying to tell Shari that we're not sure everyone is accounted for.

By late evening, it appears that everyone I know in New Orleans (admittedly, a small number of folks) is safe. I'm relieved and begin to realize that the "want to watch a train wreck" part of my brain is kicking in... I'd like to see what the hurricane does. Since I'd just visited the city in late July for Gulf Games, I think I have some perspective.

Monday

We don't have cable or satellite, so I rely on the Web and network news to figure out what's going on. Evidently, California stations are more interested in how Katrina will affect our already outrageous gas prices, so I don't get much info until watching Nightline late that night. I was heartened to see a reporter standing in front of Harrah's on Canal Street (where William & I got off the trolley to find Mother's - Home of the Most Excellent Po'Boy) with only palm trees down.

There's a part of me that feels guilty about thanking God for sparing New Orleans, because Biloxi & Gulfport end up taking the bullet. Mostly I'm relieved that most of the Gulf Games family looks like they'll come through this with minor damage & some good stories to tell.

Tuesday

While I'm asleep, the levee breaks and water pours into New Orleans. A little voice in my head does the whole "it wouldn't have happened if you'd kept watching the news" which is stupid but a pretty normal response, I guess.

By Tuesday night, the same reporter on Nightline is standing in the same place as Monday night, only now he's standing in 3 feet of water. That means our hotel (the Park Plaza) has to have water standing in the lobby. A couple of thoughts run through my head: "Could I have ridden out the storm in the upper floors of a hotel?" "I am SO glad this didn't happen during Gulf Games."

Things are getting rough in the Superdome, which has become Grand Central Station for news media. Braeden asks me if the Rescue Heroes can help, and I tell him that there are lots of heroes helping, but it's not like his cartoons - they can't stop the storm.

Wednesday

I find myself having difficulty working... as the scope of the disaster becomes clearer and clearer in the light of day, I start worrying about the future for friends like Lenny & Greg. It's not even my future... but I'm feeling long-distance empathy that immobilizes me.

We give to the North American Mission Board, which makes me feel better for about a minute, until I realize again how monstrous the need is.

I write a Grapevine (church e-newsletter) article about Katrina - including the proclamation of the Day of Prayer by the governor of LA, a great story about Sarah Lohroff (a Gulf Games kid), and my own comments about judgement & the love of God. I don't put down in the article that it seems presumptous to call Katrina "God's judgement on the sinful city of New Orleans", as Bourbon Street & the Quarter (aka Land of 100 Live Sex Shows & on-the-street drinking) looks like it's only going to suffer minor damage while huge swaths of poor neighborhoods are flooded.

The video from N.O. is painful to watch... I can only imagine how much worse it is for someone who likes the city. (I feel vaguely guilty today about my attitude about New Orleans after Gulf Games... I kept mumbling about how it was a dirty, smelly city that I didn't particularly enjoy. Gulf Games was wonderful, but I couldn't care less if I got to visit again.)

Gulf Games folks have begun talking about how to help each other rebuild... if this kind of conversation is going on in a lot of other places, the situation is a bit more hopeful.

Thursday

Today somebody starts trolling for political discussion (in other words, bash the President for how screwed up everything is) on one of my gaming lists. Amazingly enough, the majority of folks weigh in with a hearty "shut up", which makes me feel better.

At the same time, I find myself wondering why help hasn't arrived. I know that Southern Baptist disaster relief crews headed out almost before the storm was done... why isn't something being done, and how can any self-respecting politician let the things happen at the convention center & the dome ON TELEVISION and not throw something at the problem?

I try to explain my theory to Shari, which I'm not sure really holds water (unfortunate pun): sending a small squad of Guardsmen into a crowd of 10,000+ starving people with food & water would certainly set off a riot. The only way to stop that is to give them "shoot to kill" orders, which would be political suicide. So, you've got to wait until you can move massive assistance & food all at once, along with big numbers of troops (who really won't shoot unless they have run out of options). My explanation makes me feel better, but it doesn't explain all the problems.

Greg is beginning to wonder if his business (insurance) will survive - while he moved to TN, all of his client's are in New Orleans, and it's beyond my abilities to wrap my head around what he's going to go through over the next few months. It'd be easier if he was a son of a you-know-what, but Greg's an honorable man who's deeply in love with Jesus, not to mention he's a man who feels deeply for people & esp. friends. I remind myself to pray for him & Gail & Lindsey.

Lenny, typing away from a hotel room in Sulphur, TX, is the voice of reason & information for us all. My mind wanders to Lenny's job change in the last few months... and whether or not the coin business will be survivable. His generosity to me has been so huge...

This is also the day I begin to wonder about places I've been before... how is New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary? (I was there back in 1997 for a mini-conference of GenX church planters.) What about Gulfshore Baptist Assembly, a retreat center just outside of Gulfport? (I took kids there for summer camp back in '89.)

Friday

I'm numb. Too many pictures of disaster. Too many times reading the lead story on Yahoo News only to find that all they've done is simply add a few more horrific details about conditions at the convention center.

I find myself more & more irritated by the finger-pointing... and yet, at the same time, amazed & hopeful by the way churches, esp. in TX, are stepping up to the plate and caring for people. I'm blown away that people are acknowledging that they'll need to think about "the long haul" in how to help these folks, not just feed 'em for a week and send 'em on their merry way.

New Orleans Baptist Seminary is under water... well, not completely, but enough so I'd guess fall classes are cancelled. I wonder what my nieces & nephew (William) are thinking - they stayed there last summer & did missions work in the community around the seminary... which is all underwater, too.

There's no word about Gulfshore Assembly online... the only scrap of info I find simply says that no one can get there because the roads are blocked. (When I was there in '89, we rode out a small storm one afternoon, and that was scary enough. Something like Katrina could wipe the place off the map.)

Saturday

I wake up & once again check online for information. Kayne West needs to sit down & be quiet... for the difficulties of the disaster response to be a plot against African-Americans would require a plot of X-Files-ish proportions. I'm the first to acknowledge that it's awful and a tragedy and that the lag time in responding seems nuts, but it's not some kind of vast right-wing conspiracy.

The Purpose-Driven churches are already trying to figure out how to help churches in the affected areas rebuild... which is cool. I start praying about how we can do that here at NewLife... is this our next mission trip? I dunno... I ponder how much of my response is God's "still small voice", how much is "hey, kids, let's put on a show", and how much is guilt and/or "all the other cool churches are doing it"? Definitely need to keep praying about this.

The seminary is figuring out ways to do classes even with the seminary underwater... how cool is that?

OTOH, Gulfshore Baptist Assembly is almost certainly gone (due to the storm surge) and the 3 workers who stayed behind to ride out the storm are missing.

I'm beginning to wonder why New Orleans gets all the footage? Is it easier to take pictures of a mob of refugees and inflate the situation than it is to focus on the less-popular states of MS and AL?

Today (Sunday)

Braeden & I talk before I leave for church - last night, he went to Toys'R'Us with allowance money he'd saved and bought a Micro Rescue Heroes playset. This morning, he watched the videos that came with it and told me that one of them had a storm "like New Orleans." Then he asked me, "Dad, what's New Orleans like?" I tried to explain that much of the city was flooded and everyone had to leave their homes. He then wondered if scuba divers could rescue people who were trapped. I proceeded to tell him about the helicopter rescues that I'd seen on TV (we've kept the boys from watching most of the footage). Then we decided we needing to keep praying for people.

This morning in the shower I had a sick thought - I blew off a chance to go to the D-Day Museum back in July because I was sure I'd get to N.O. again... so, no D-Day Museum for me? I feel like a total heel for this running through my head.

This morning I've been working on my sermon... the primary focus was to be a "preview" for our capital campaign (which starts in mid-October), but that seems wack in light of what's going on in the South. The theme (Get in the Game) fits, but the application is a little weird. Looks like this morning will be one of those "fly by the seat of my pants and keep throwing up prayers" kind of messages.

Like I said earlier, my thoughts are jumbled. God, use this jumble to your glory.

Apologetics is not the study of Battlestar Galactica

Though I am watching the Battlestar Galactica miniseries (the new one) on DVD and while I'm put off by some of the "look, we're doing something naughty on TV" element of it, so far it's a brilliant re-imagining of the original cheeseball series. Plus, Edward James Olmos has some serious gravitas.

But, to quote "Airplane", that's not important right now. What I do want to do is point you toward an incredible post on someone else's blog: Thank You Josh McDowell (sort of) on Dan Kimball's Vintage Faith. (You may recognize Dan as the pastor of Vintage Faith Church or as the author of one of the best books on the emerging church, aptly titled The Emerging Church.) His blog is as thoughtful & graceful as his books.

Apologetics, by the way, is a "theological big word" way of saying "how to intelligently defend our belief in God."

Every Once In A While...

...I get reminded of why I'm a Southern Baptist.

Still not proud of our history (for those who don't know, the Southern Baptist Convention was started primarily by those supporting slavery), still not proud of our yearly bouts of goofiness (like the Disney boycott)... but there are some things we do right.

And disaster relief is one of them. By this weekend, SBC Disaster Relief teams will be feeding 300,000 people a day (wow!) in response to Katrina. For more on this, you can check out the story over at the North American Misson Board's site.

As well, if you want to donate to hurricane relief, one of the coolest things about donating through NAMB is that 100% of the money goes to disaster relief, as the administrative expenses are already being taken care of SBC churches. You can use this link right here.

I know a lot of folks who read this blog aren't believers... and even fewer of you are Southern Baptists. If you choose not to give through my denomination, that's no sweat off my back. Just choose to give in a way that can make a difference.

Theologian of the Year: Dogbert

This is brilliant. Ab-so-lutely brilliant. from dilbert.com

You Like Me, You Really Like Me!

Had a nice surprise last night when cruising through my RSS feeds on Bloglines... Mikko Saari, the author/owner/etc. of Gameblog had a nice post on board games blogs which included this mention of yours truly:

Aka Pastor Guy is Mark Jackson's blog, a mixture of board games and religion. It's an interesting mix. Mark seems like a pretty sensible guy even to an atheist like yours truly and his blog is an interesting insight to a different world - with board games in it!

Thanks to Mikko for the kind words... it's nice to know that what I set out to do (talk about board games & life & God & other stuff) is coming through loud & clear, even if it's all the way across the Atlantic (Finland, no less!) and across the even larger divide of belief systems.

Welcome To Pat's World

Ah, what a difference a day makes. Yesterday morning, Pat Robertson was channeling former President Clinton as he responded to allegations that he'd called for the assassination of Hugo Chavez by saying:

"I didn't say 'assassination,'" Robertson clarified during a broadcast of his "The 700 Club" Wednesday morning. "I said our special forces should go 'take him out,' and 'take him out' could be a number of things, including kidnapping." He blamed The Associated Press for making him seem to advocate the assassination of a foreign leader. "There are a number of ways to take out a dictator from power besides killing him," Robertson said. "I was misinterpreted by the AP, but that happens all the time." from FoxNews

By afternoon, the Right Reverend Robertson (say that 5 times fast!) decided he needed to apologize. If you want to read the whole statement he released, you can check it out on FoxNews. What I quote next is selected "highlights":

"Is it right to call for assassination? No, and I apologize for that statement. I spoke in frustration that we should accommodate the man who thinks the U.S. is out to kill him... "There are many who disagree with my comments, and I respect their opinions. There are others who think that stopping a dictator is the appropriate course of action. In any event, the incredible publicity surrounding my remarks has focused our government's attention on a growing problem which has been largely ignored."

He also managed to drag Dietrich Bonhoeffer into the mix, drawing parallels between Nazi Germany and Venezula. Huh?! Here's my "summary" of the week's events, as filtered through the mind of Pat Robertson.

1. Chavez is one bad dude... somebody ought to hire Steven Seagal to jet down to South America and go medieval on him.
2. When I said that the U.S. ought to "cap" Chavez, I meant that we needed to get him a new hat. Yeah, that's the ticket. Besides, you guys put words in my mouth.
3. OK, kids, you caught me. I really did encourage government-sponsored assassination on national TV. Who knew the MSM watched The 700 Club? Say, any of you left-wingers want to buy a case of diet shakes?
4. Actually, it's a good thing I put a shoe store worth of Nikes in my mouth over this thing, because it's all part of my secret plan to get the White House to pay attention to Venezula's godless Commie ninja strike force.

OK, a little over the top. Still, I'm enjoying myself, right?

Anyway, back to the serious: it's not really an apology when you attempt to justify your actions. Then it's just randomly using the word "sorry" like a talisman to ward off further attacks.

Which brings us to the icky part of this post... where are we "apologizing" in name only? Where do we spend inordinate amounts of time & energy struggling to justify, excuse or otherwise cover up our actions when the simpler, more authentic, more Christ-like way to deal with it would simply be to say "I'm sorry" and be done with it?

Ever thought about how much we can be like Pat? (Shudder.)

Gulf Games: Saturday

If you missed the first part of this story, check out Gulf Games: Friday.

Who cares if I went to bed at 2:30 am? I had to squeeze 5 days of Gulf Game-ish fun into 2 and a half, so I popped out of bed at 7:30 am and grabbed some devotional time while waiting for someone to show up with the keys to the game room. I don't remember who it was (Greg? James? Anonymous Nice Person Whose Name I Forgot?)... remember, it was crack-of-dawn-ish. :-)

Anyway, once we were in, we did a bit of cleaning up (less than I remember from previous years) and the gaming began. James, Scott T, Earl & Michell and I played Knizia's Tower of Babel. It's an auction game, sort of... that turns into sort of an area majority game. (You'll notice I use the words "sort of" a lot in trying to sum up this game.) Because, well, I sort of liked it. I'm not sure it has "legs" (in other words, that I'd play it all that much) but with five players it's an interesting game system. (I'm pretty sure it would be much less fun with less players.) Scott won, with Michelle & I tied just two points behind him. (Nice to finally meet the legendary Scott Tullace, btw.)

We added Chris Comeaux to our number and pulled out a personal favorite that I think is too often overlooked, Medieval Merchant. I sucked wind the entire game... Earl & I both wanted to start in the same place, but I chose first. My mistake; Earl went on to win from his position. Sigh. (For those who haven't seen/played MM, it's a rail game cleverly disguised as a game about opening cities to trade following the Dark Ages. This time around, I noticed it's similarities to Power Grid - well, at least the board play part of Power Grid.)

With just a few minutes to spare before the Liar's Dice tournament began, I coaxed Peter McCarthy, Joe Huber & my nephew William (who had just stumbled into the game room) to play Tom Jolly's Light Speed. This game actually takes longer to score than it does to play. (Reader's Digest Condensed description: each player has ten spaceship cards, which are placed on the table "real-time". The first player to finish placing his ships yells "stop!" and then you score the game. You get points for hitting other players & asteroids with your lasers - preprinted on the spaceship cards. That's it.) We managed to play the game and were about 1/2 way through the scoring when...

..the Liar's Dice tournament actually started. I joined Joe, Derk, Cindy, Peter, & William to play - and, humorously enough, Joe, who actively does not like Liar's Dice, won.

We then returned to finish scoring to find that this was really Joe's morning, as he smoked us at Light Speed. (No real surprise there - Joe's the one who taught me the game originally.) I managed to put down my first negative score (-4) in my Light Speed playing history. Double sigh.

The last game before lunch was Royal Turf - as the Smith family (Sheldon, Regina & Laura) joined Ed Rozmiarek, William & I in betting on the ponies. This is probably my favorite horse racing game (though I'm still fond of the overly complicated Win, Place & Show.) It has a high celebration/cursing luck factor (those are games where there's lots of cheering & booing on the roll of the dice or, to quote Alan Parson Project, "the turn of a friendly card.") Anyway, the dice were not friendly to me - I managed to beat only William, the single newbie at the table. Triple sigh.

Lunch was McDonalds - because:

1. we could walk there
2. it was fast

For those of you who are concerned that William & I went to New Orleans and didn't manage to eat any non-chain food, wait for the Gulf Games: Sunday post.

After lunch was the one game on my "dance card" - an Operation Overlord run of Memoir '44 with 8 players. We used the Ardennes scenario (the only published non-beach Overlord scenario) which has an amazing 12 point winning requirement. I commanded the Allies, with Tim McCarthy, William, and Paul Cortazzo as my field generals. Ed Roz commanded the Axis, with the motley crew of Eddie Bonet, Craig Berg, and Chris Lohroff as his field generals. The game was a little long, primarily because the German generals consulted with each other at unbelievable length. Of course, they won 12-7, so who am I to argue? A wonderful time was had by all - except the poor German infantrymen, Hans & Frans, who were cut to ribbons by tank fire... mainly because they were talking too much. (This was William's first exposure to gaming with Craig, which might be better known as "laughing your rear end off.")

Chris Comeaux then taught Allison Vander Ark, William & I Sole Mio, the add-on/stand-alone sister/cousin/significant other of Uwe Rosenberg's Mamma Mia. (Note: I'm a big fan of Mamma Mia.) While we had fun playing, I'm not sure this is necessary. Chris managed to grab all 11 pizzas (grrr...) while only got 9. William continued his stunning losing streak with only 4 pizzas. Note to self: keep playing memory games with William.

Next, I introduced Susan Rozmiarek & William to the joy that is Viva Topo. I've written about this other places, but Viva Topo is part of two game families. The first is the "the game chases you around and eats your pieces" family, which consists of:

• Midnight Party
• Viva Pamplona
• Viva Topo

The second is the "cat & mouse theme" family, which consists of:

• Cat & Mouse (Max Mauseschreck)
• Mause-Rallye
• So Ein Kase
• Viva Topo

(Obviously, I'm missing some in the second category. But, of course, somebody with more free time than I has created a GeekList: What's New Pussycat, Whooawhoawhoa?) I managed to win (experience and good dice are everything).

Susan returned the favor by teaching us a new Haba game, Tier au Tier, which is German for "stack cute wooden animals on a crocodile." It's Jenga for kids... but the bits are Haba-licious and it plays very quickly. I liked it, even though Susan (boo, hiss) won.

Since we were on a kid game kick, I pulled out one of the few games I brought with me, the little-known Bis Bald im Wald. (OK, "little-known" doesn't quite cover it. I'm the only person who owns it, according to the Geek, and only one other person has rated it - "Invisible" Craig, who played my copy last summer.) The theme is negligible (something about deers hunting for their forest friends), but the gameplay is substantially above "kid" level. Each turn you move your deer around the 5x5 grid of tiles, turning over tiles in an attempt to match the "search" card selection of animals. Turn over a correct animal, you get to move & flip again. Turn over the wrong animal, and your turn is over. Turn over an owl and you get to peek at one tile. Turn over a tree and you simply get to continue your turn. And, if there weren't enough things going on in the game, whenver someone completes a "search" card with a fox on it, the row & column that the fox was in are shuffled and redealt to the grid.

It's not that the memory element is impossible - it's only 25 cards. It's the changeable nature of the board coupled with the need to physically move to the correct location that short out adult brains. We called this one on account of needing to eat, but I think Kevin was in the lead. Lenny & I were sucking major wind.

Dinner tonight was a short jaunt down the street with the Rozmiarek clan - man, I like those people. We talked about houses & games & raising kids in the rarified atmosphere of Burger King.

After dinner, it was back to the game room for the Prize Table Party. A number of contest winners were announced... and while I wasn't in the running for Mr. Friendly (hard to do when you miss 2-3 days of gaming), I did manage to win the Box of Mystery competition. (Frank & Sandi create a box filled with 13 game bits... you reach in and figure out what game they're from by touching them.) The only one I missed was Coyote (I guessed Octopus, which still isn't listed on the Geek... gotta take care of that.)

The Prize Table is a huge pile of games (donated primarily by the attendees) which families get to grab based on a lottery system. I managed to snag That's Life!, Automania, Alles im Griff, and in the final "you must take something" round, Galloping Pigs (which I didn't previously own).

And then we were back to the gaming! Next up was the insanely expensive Master Thieves. The game is essentially Citadels crossed with a memory game... but the production values of the box/cabinet are stunning. I managed to snake out a 1 point win over my good friend, Ted Cheatham (who's about to be a published game designer!). Also in the hunt were Eddy, Jeannette, Rob Wood & William.

Next, the "old men" (Rob & I) played a quick game of Crokinole with the "young whippersnappers", William & Jeannette. Age & cunning beat youth & skill, which is at it should be. :-)

When folks found out I'd never played Coyote (from my mistaken Box O'Mystery identification), they insisted I give it a try. Gotta say, the novelty of wearing a velcro band on my head wore off pretty quickly... and there's not enough game left after that to sweep up off the floor and put in a thimble. (Can you tell I wasn't impressed?) For a really good bluffing game, try Liar's Dice or Ciao Ciao instead. Ted won, knocking out a number of us.

Next, we grabbed Igloo Pop and got into a discussion about the relative merits of this game and it's predecessor, Zapp Zerapp. (For the record, Igloo Pop is faster, less expensive, more involving, less downtime, and doesn't require exactly four players to work. Guess which one I like better?) Despite Frank & I coming in with some serious Pop experience, it was (wait for it!) William who finally broke his losing drought with a convincing win here.

Frank Branham knows my tastes... and so decided to show me the only game I know of made by Tupperware (aka Tuppertoys): Bounce It-In. (OK, Tupperware made some poker chips... my father-in-law has a set. But they don't clink, which is, frankly, the whole point of poker chips.) Bounce It In is insanely addictive - we played 5 games (Frank won 4 of them, while Jeannette won the other) and I'd have been happy to have played it for another 1/2 hour. It's just like those carnival games where you bounce the balls into a pattern... only, you're doing it competitively. Yes, I'm on the prowl for a copy of this one.

Jeannette & William joined Rob for two (count 'em, 2) games of Cannibal Pygmies in the Jungle of Doom. I'd rather have my fingernails pulled out without benefit of anesthetic than play 1 game of that or Grave Robbers yadda yadda yadda...

So, Frank taught me Invicta's El Dorado. (Invicta is the same company that published Mastermind.) It's a quick moving deduction game with a bit of pirate theme added for flavor. Frank smoked me, but it was still good fun to play. (Unlike Mastermind, which just makes my brain hurt.)

The last game of the night was a partnership run of The Game of Life Card Game. I'd heard a lot about this (it had been a hit at the last Gulf Games) and this was my first chance to play. And you know what? The buzz was right - it's the world's greatest game, but it was quite fun to play. Even if Michael & I didn't come close to Frank & Shanna in developing a rewarding life for ourselves. (About 1/2 way through the game, it came to me how to describe this one... it's a kinder, gentler Fiese Freunde Fette Feten.)

OK, it was bed time - roughly 2 am. Got to get some shut eye before prayer service & more gaming the next morning.

To be continued...

Welcome To My World

Let's all put on our imagination caps for a moment, shall we?

What if you were pre-judged by the vast majority of people based on the behavior of one of your high school classmates... say, the pot-smoking loser who got the nods in History class every other day. How about if the person you were lumped together with was the guy in your fraternity whose major was carving notches in his bedpost?

Not fair, right?

Welcome to my world. Well, for those of us who claim to be evangelical Christians, our world.

And once again, one of our number has served himself (and by extension, us) up to the MSM (mainstream media) with an extended observation about the wisdom of the U.S. rubbing out the leader of another country. Thank you, Pat Robertson.

Of course, I found out this morning by cranking up the computer and seeing the article header/tease on msn.com... TV Preacher: Kill Chavez

. Sigh.

So, let's make this clear. I'm not commenting on the content of his remarks... just the frustrating reality that I get tarred & feathered with the same brush as this guy because evangelicals are "all alike" - kind of like the old joke about white people being unable to tell folks of other ethnicity apart because they "all look alike." The faults not with the people of color (or, in this case, the believers in Christ), it's the maddening inability of the general public to see the differences.

I'll crawl down off my high horse now.

Enter Church History Man

Scott Rushing tells a great story on his blog, Theology Journal, that you need to read. (No offense, Scottster, but you could possibly pick name for your blog that screams "Don't Read Me!" any louder?) Anyway, Scott talks about a bet between his sisters, which leads to a familiar story for those of us who got caught in the Great Evangelical Culture Debate (otherwise known as "sacred vs. secular").

So what happened over the past decade? Well, I discovered that this issue is not so black and white. Family Christian bookstore is not the "end all be all" of "Christian" music. Not only are there "Christian" artists who produce trash, there are "secular" artists who produce high quality music; both musically and lyrically.

Scott's take on all this is gracious, funny, & wise. (And, yes, Scott, I'm saying all these nice things about you where you can read 'em.) Click on the link above to read the whole story. I'll weigh in later in the week with my own story and Stephen Lawhead-influenced take on the whole subject.

Paging Dr. Braeden

This is Braeden, working on his patient, Zoe Kellar. (That's right - our new worship/youth pastor's daughter.) Just after this picture was taken, he told her, "I think you need a shot." I'm not sure what the copay is at his clinic, but it's got to be less than what Blue Shield is charging us.

Collin Blake: Post #100

Can you tell he's genetically related to me?

DIY Religion

Maybe it's a little odd for a Baptist pastor to write so much about the Pope (check out my earlier posts entitled Hell-Bound Pope Sign, Anti-Christ No More, and Pope Found To Be Catholic). Perhaps it was that I dated a young lady who was pre-Vatican 2 Catholic (15+ years after Vatican 2!) Maybe it's the class I took in seminary on Roman Catholic Theology (because I liked the professor, a Dutch guy named Dr. Kiweit.) Maybe I'm just jealous of the cool hats Catholic clergy get to wear. Who knows?

Anyway, I just read a new article on Yahoo this morning about World Youth Day in Germany... Pope Benedict had some very interesting comments for the nearly 1 million folks who camped to celebrate Mass with him:

He asked them not to see religion as a "consumer product" where people choose only what they want from it and disregard rules that are sometimes difficult to observe.

"Religion constructed on a 'do-it-yourself' basis cannot ultimately help us," he said. "It may be comfortable but at times of crisis we are left to ourselves."

In other words, a faith based primarily on my personal choices is only as good as the quality of my personal choices. When you take into consideration my own track record:

• Angel Flight slacks & silky flower shirts
• the musical stylings of Barry Manilow
• western shirts with pearl buttons on the pockets
• 50% of the wargames I bought that I never played against another person
• the aforementioned Catholic young lady & our dating relationship
• for that matter, the vast majority of my crushes, infatuations & dating relationships
• letting my hair grow out where it looked vaguely like Woody Allen
• my struggle with an addiction to pornography
• and so on...

...it becomes crystal clear that any faith based on me is doomed to failure. One good strong "wind" in the weather system of life & I'd collapse like a house of cards. I need something (well, Someone) bigger than me.

My guess is that you're in the same boat.

To Be Continued...

Just thought I'd list for you guys (and for myself) what stories I need to tell (as promised over the history of this blog) and what series of posts I need to finish.

• more about Sunday in the Park With George (the musical & the painting)
• the story of the Pig Trail & the burning bus
• the story of how I got kicked out of Disneyland
• try to explain incarnational evangelism (notes from Becky Pippert's talk in May)
• an update on Collin's current health condition
• a post about coolness & gaming & being in the "in" crowd that's been percolating in my brain since June
• posting Dennis' "closing prayer" for tc@hh - since the format it's in right now is pretty much unreadable
• How In The Heck Did I End Up Here (part seven): how I got to NewLife
• Gulf Games: Saturday & Sunday

I do take requests... :-)

Worldwide

Don't think I'll ever understand it
Don't think it matters if I do
Three billion people in the world
And I only know a few
Worldwide
Worldwide
Adam Again, "Worldwide" (from their album, DIG)

I'm not an expert at tracking who's reading along here... I know Zion Red & Katie & Nord & Scott & Mark P & Jimbo are all aboard. I even know my Aunt Nancy reads my blog (as does my mom!). But I'm not sure who else does...

So I hooked up with gVisit to produce a visitor log website. Evidently, it tracks where people visit aka pastor guy using their IP addresses. Cool, huh? I know that's probably Tom Vasel in Seoul, Korea, but I'm curious who has found this tiny corner of the blogosphere in Chelmsford, England?!

Still, I'd be interested in hearing from you if you're reading this blog on a regular basis... just add a comment with a note on who you are & where you're from!

The End of a Long Hard Search

I can't fire them. I hired these guys for three days a week and they just started showing up every day. That was four years ago.
High Fidelity

It's official - NewLife Community Church has just hired their first full-time non-senior pastor... Aaron Kellar is now our worship & youth pastor. (Or he will be in a few weeks, when he's able to move down here from Portland, Oregon.)

He's an odd but wonderful blend of GenX/Y dude (complete with subdued earrings, cross tattoo with Latin inscription, and semi-long hair), very cool family man (who's obviously in love with his wife & his two daughters), and serious follower of Christ.

What I like best is that I like hanging out with him. I don't feel like I'll be in competition to be cool... because, frankly, I will NEVER be as cool as he is. Ever. Even if I get that new pair of glasses Shari wants me to buy. :-)

Seriously, the way I've been describing Aaron is that he "seems comfortable in his own skin." And when you hang with people like that, people who are in love with God and can laugh at themselves and treat people around them with dignity, you end being more comfortable in your own skin as well - and people get to see a clearer picture of Jesus. And that's all good.

Big prayer request right now: finding Aaron & Margaret & Zoe & Eve a house here in Easton. Nah... what I really mean is that we need to find them a house that will be a home for them.