tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53076544532349444782024-03-03T16:25:50.972-08:00robby mcalpine blogs hereEven since borrowing his mother's manual Underwood typewriter, the blogger formerly known as robbymac has stirred the pot by writing.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger102125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-48356411937998332002019-08-12T00:01:00.042-07:002024-02-20T21:59:01.481-08:00Fade to Black<p style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkImioeWzHymrimdLwhrdBHgbuyIkNSVju_65eVPwYPtSbLkgnuV4dm3T15-nLium0BjX2TdTIcjt6OxbVY6dGCnZoZ-n7RmGdkxdTVmwoxF3WTdhMqSAFvQHIAO3fQ0sH_CzSPHoLipJlemNhbbIUIDyFb2wXGXrKWD5S6mf5CIAwzBj1PobVlzgPsrsG/s1080/fade2black.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkImioeWzHymrimdLwhrdBHgbuyIkNSVju_65eVPwYPtSbLkgnuV4dm3T15-nLium0BjX2TdTIcjt6OxbVY6dGCnZoZ-n7RmGdkxdTVmwoxF3WTdhMqSAFvQHIAO3fQ0sH_CzSPHoLipJlemNhbbIUIDyFb2wXGXrKWD5S6mf5CIAwzBj1PobVlzgPsrsG/s320/fade2black.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Is there a patron saint for writers? I took another sip of beer as I pondered my answer.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The <i>Drunken Fiddler’s</i> outdoor patio was roughly half full. I’d managed to commandeer a table in the back corner, next to the pub’s turn-of-the-century brick façade. The setting sun</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’s rays were warm, adding a golden cast to the scene. </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">A breeze rustled the nearest trees, creating a dappled kaleidoscope of light and shadow across the patio. A perfect summer’s evening.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Catholic mystic Francis de Sales (1567–1622) is traditionally recognized as the patron saint of writers and journalists. But for aspiring authors of my generation, crafting our first literary creations on manual carriage-and-ink-ribbon typewriters, the cartoon character Snoopy—perched atop his doghouse in defiance of gravity—seemed the more obvious choice.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">A shadow loomed over my table.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I glanced up to see the mischievous face of the Younger, shoulder-to-shoulder with the Barista from the <i>Genesis Café</i>. The Elder peeked from behind them, waving a friendly greeting.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“The patio—always my favorite.” The Elder</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">s enthusiasm was evident as he shouldered past his companions to seat himself beside me. He folded his hands on the table, beaming a delighted smile at the world in general.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The Younger assisted the Barista into her chair and plunked himself down opposite me. “I can’t wait for autumn. Parking’s easier to find after the tourists leave.” He heaved a rueful sigh. “But once you’ve found the best pub in town …”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“Aye, there’s a wee lad who knows wot’s wot.” The Barkeep sidled over to our table, slinging a bar cloth over his shoulder. “What bevvies can I bring the lot of ye?”</span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Elder (puzzled, as if the answer was obvious): “Guinness.”</span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Younger (loftily): “La Fin du Monde Tripel.”</span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Barista (shuddering at the Younger’s choice): “Ward’s Hard Apple Cider, please.”</span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Me (hoisting my near-empty glass): “More of the same: Crannóg’s Backhand of God Stout.”</span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Barkeep: (mutters an incomprehensible phrase under his breath and retreats into the pub).</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“Is it true what I’ve heard?” The Elder turned to the Barista. “You’ve quit your job at the <i>Genesis Café</i>?”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">She grinned brightly. “Today was my last shift. In two weeks, we’re relocating to the Center of the Universe. I’ve been accepted into the BFA program at TMU.”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“Bachelor of Fine Arts at Toronto Metropolitan University,” the Younger stage whispered, translating for the Elder’s benefit. “The school formerly known as Ryerson.”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The Barista continued as if she hadn’t heard. “I’ve been picking away at photography classes at our local college, but my partner and I decided it’s taking too long. So, we’re diving in, head first. He’s an IT guy. Finding work won’t be hard while I’m in school.”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“An excellent strategy; I’m sure you’ll do well.” The Elder’s words sounded like a benediction. “Still, I’m sorry to see you leave. The <i>Genesis</i> won’t be the same without you.”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“Aw, thanks.” Her expression turned serious for a moment before her infectious grin won out. “It’s been a great place to work, but that season’s done. You can’t live in the past, or so everyone tells me. It’s time for the next chapter.”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The Barkeep reappeared, distributing our drinks with a dramatic flourish. He tucked the serving tray under his arm and sketched an awkward salute at the Younger and Elder. “This round’s on the house, gents. Just a way for me and the missus to say thanks for your patronage. Yours, too, young lady,” he hastened to add, nodding at the Barista. He waved a hand in the Elder’s direction, cutting him off. “Naw, don’t say nothing. It’s the least we could do for two men o’ the cloth, especially since ye’re no packing weapons anymore.”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">With that, he spun on his heel and disappeared inside the <i>Drunken Fiddler</i>.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“And what about you, Robby?” The Younger rounded on me before the door closed. Neither he nor the Elder seemed inclined to comment on the Barkeep’s cryptic weapons reference. “What’s this I hear about your new adventures?”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“It’s like our creative colleague says.” I nodded at the Barista, who returned my look with a playful shrug. “It’s a new season; a writer’s transitional interlude between one genre and the next.”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“That’s a fancy way of saying you’re moving on.” The Younger’s piercing gaze caught and held mine. “After seventeen years, you’re pulling the plug.”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“A time to write, and a time to write something completely different.” I winced as the words escaped my mouth—a lame riff on Ecclesiastes and Monty Python. I hesitated, unsure how to adequately put my thoughts into words.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The Elder came to my rescue; I should’ve known he would. “There are times and seasons, my friends. Remember Jesus’ words in the third chapter of John? ‘The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.’ I believe this is one of those times.”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The Younger leaned back in his chair, uncharacteristically subdued. He locked eyes with me, and I’m certain he looked a little misty. “Thanks for giving us a voice,” he said at last. He took a deep breath, gesturing to his companions. “Thanks for giving each of us a voice.”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">It took me a moment to collect myself. “It’s been a pleasure and an honor. I’ll miss you guys.”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The Barista stirred, wiping away a tear, and managed a watery grin. “Give my regards to Deven.”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I stood and reached for my notebook. “I will. And—there’s no good segue for this—I think it’s time to be on my way.” I gestured with my notebook. “I’ve got a first draft in desperate need of a stylistic edit, a writer’s conference next weekend …”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The Elder held his Guinness aloft, a nostalgic twinkle in his eye. “To the King and His Kingdom.”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The rest of us clinked glasses with him, accompanied by a ragged echo of his words. “The King and His Kingdom.”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">We drained our drinks in prolonged swallows. The Younger gestured at me with his empty glass, his facetious humor resurfacing. “You sure you want to drive after pounding that back?”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I laughed and gingerly placed my empty glass on the table. “I thought I’d take one last walk along the waterfront. I’ll be fine.” I looked around the circle of faces. “And you?”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">There was a moment’s hesitation as they exchanged glances. As if by unspoken consent, the Elder answered on their behalf. “We thought we’d go inside for one last round of curry fries, for old time’s sake.” He tipped his hat. “Drive friendly.”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I nodded, returning his gesture. The Younger shook my hand, clapping me on the shoulder with his other hand—harder than he realized, I think. The Barista gave me a quick hug.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">A final wave, and I set off down the sidewalk, not trusting myself to stay any longer. <i>All good things</i> … I’d gone perhaps half a block when my steps gradually slowed, and I came to a standstill in the early dusk.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I glanced over my shoulder in time to see the Younger—silhouetted in the <i>Fiddler’s</i> entrance—as he gallantly held the door open. The Barista and Elder made a show of accepting his chivalrous gesture as they stepped over the threshold. I could only imagine the clever one-liners they traded back and forth.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The door swung shut, abruptly cutting the light off.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">To the King and His Kingdom. The Elder’s words echoed in my mind as I rounded the corner.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">A moonless night descended, cloaking the deserted promenade in darkness. A chill breeze blew in over the lake, driving a murky fog before it. My ADHD brain was quick to populate the ghostly scene with veiled peril and skulking adversaries.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Right … and a foggy, moonless night is a harbinger of what, exactly</i>? I scolded myself. <i>This ain’t science fiction</i>. Streetlights snapped on, but provided scant illumination. I quickened my pace.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Two figures emerged from an alley just ahead. A young man, probably in his late twenties, shadowed by a younger female companion. His clothing was dark and sturdy; she wore threadbare jeans and an oversized hoodie.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I slowed to a halt in the deserted street. “Can I help you?”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">They approached with caution, footsteps silent on the cobblestone sidewalk. Their faces reflected an unsettling urgency, mingled with exhaustion. Or perhaps fear.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“I’m Amos Morgan.” The young man’s voice was raspy. His eyes darted back and forth, scanning the street as if he feared we were under surveillance. “This is Aubrey. Aubrey Carter.”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Aubrey stepped into the streetlight’s hazy circle, her dark eyes haunted. She brushed a strand of hair from her face with a fire-scarred hand. “We’ve got a <a href="https://devenkane.com/the-tracker-trilogy/" target="_blank">story to tell</a> ...”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">[<b><span style="font-family: courier;">fade to black</span></b>]</span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvTXAJN_JD9ta9TniIG8zLp7VkXHvycHvs9z7806oPT4dUyW-ADUtKLPRKe0YwBuTZqIHsyMkUvcpSnwlun_HrY6soQNmVOYPH-iNz_c_ABY5hj45ecEfebKaXstJ41VVPuBssTYAUHsmwr83EjgkkCLzBrxIAlG97pazErvIbIpdjinvs9Bf0ceh9fPgl/s1080/fade2black.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvTXAJN_JD9ta9TniIG8zLp7VkXHvycHvs9z7806oPT4dUyW-ADUtKLPRKe0YwBuTZqIHsyMkUvcpSnwlun_HrY6soQNmVOYPH-iNz_c_ABY5hj45ecEfebKaXstJ41VVPuBssTYAUHsmwr83EjgkkCLzBrxIAlG97pazErvIbIpdjinvs9Bf0ceh9fPgl/s320/fade2black.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUi_hqrxihGR6PiF0QCyAuFkH5nWBr1T5uAzaj-e57dyF1ZEl9CdeLFpHV5Qcdgjk19UzkatIPLpPzPqa3nUcPx4VGjo1lMp6ePP4HxR0V25LJy2vXLbowBAUfMaa2d6L_4KfcFc7Vpt9tLxhp_AjMvUEkxlWrCBvVBBUx9zrd6bpnKhRO1UCjLLMarQLo/s1080/fade2black.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUi_hqrxihGR6PiF0QCyAuFkH5nWBr1T5uAzaj-e57dyF1ZEl9CdeLFpHV5Qcdgjk19UzkatIPLpPzPqa3nUcPx4VGjo1lMp6ePP4HxR0V25LJy2vXLbowBAUfMaa2d6L_4KfcFc7Vpt9tLxhp_AjMvUEkxlWrCBvVBBUx9zrd6bpnKhRO1UCjLLMarQLo/s320/fade2black.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-22857444429283426182019-08-09T07:30:00.001-07:002024-02-19T08:03:23.191-08:00Campfire Ghost Stories<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3nLFT0w7WAN1W-wEl4U7ySgBMpQ3r6EHYNLgvw3cX8EX0FlKWns6ksIM3f1ve8bKQoRsayqVaHrDwaS6Uvl27Emj1iZiQdTepVKGwkdnGeCU0OMBaK9LKUaiqiOnnxeh5i_obXsdAoexkYu8xgF2p5D9xlAPI37bn6CPl6TsCAF_R1qZURHxpLfIHH7hz/s1080/ghost_stories.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3nLFT0w7WAN1W-wEl4U7ySgBMpQ3r6EHYNLgvw3cX8EX0FlKWns6ksIM3f1ve8bKQoRsayqVaHrDwaS6Uvl27Emj1iZiQdTepVKGwkdnGeCU0OMBaK9LKUaiqiOnnxeh5i_obXsdAoexkYu8xgF2p5D9xlAPI37bn6CPl6TsCAF_R1qZURHxpLfIHH7hz/s320/ghost_stories.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A crackling fire provided the perfect soundtrack to their annual get-together. The evening air was cathedral-quiet, reverential. A log shifted, and a swirl of sparks gusted heavenward. A choir of crickets serenaded the shoreline, augmented by the occasional blip of unseen fish breaking the lake’s tranquil surface.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“There is nothing new under the sun.” The Scholar quoted perhaps the most oft-repeated phrase from his area of academic expertise. “What we’re experiencing today was known to the ancients, as well.”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The Historian nodded, every solemn mannerism steeped in an aura of musty books and tweed. “Same as it ever was.”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The Younger rotated a marshmallow skewer over the fire. “It doesn’t feel normal,” he said, eyes fixed on his marshmallow—his third attempt at browning without burning. “Their attitudes tell me they’ve given up. And none of them want to hear from me about it—they’ve made that clear. Our faith used to be our common bond, but now it’s That Which Must Not Be Named. I feel handcuffed.”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The Elder sipped his coffee and said nothing, content to allow his circle of friends to answer.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“The human heart has a rather predictable tendency to wander.” The Scholar puffed on his pipe; smoke wreathed his long face. “The ancient Israelites abandoned their covenant with Yahweh and turned to idolatry with alarming frequency.” He paused, his thoughtful countenance illuminated by the flickering firelight. “But Yahweh was faithful when they were not, sending prophets and judges to turn them back to faith. Nehemiah reading the Law to the people comes to mind. Or perhaps King Josiah’s discovery of the Torah in the temple ruins, and his subsequent reforms.”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Church history records the same pattern.” The Historian took up the narrative, squirming on the log in search of a more comfortable position. “The post-Nicaean priesthood was no stranger to corruption, and there were many reforming movements in the Catholic church, long before the Reformation.”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Isn’t that why there’s so many Protestant denominations?” A log shifted and the Younger barely rescued his marshmallow from the resulting flare-up. “A new movement seeking to recapture the vitality of the New Testament church?”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The Historian smiled faintly. “Yes, but many movements ended in heresy, even as they advertised themselves as a return to ‘biblical’ Christianity. One must exercise discernment.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring into the campfire. “But the Holy Ghost faithfully brings revival—if I may use the term—to rejuvenate passion for Jesus, even in a cold-hearted, corrupted church. If there was ecclesiastical resistance … Well, those whose hearts had been revived were often given little recourse but to break away.”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“That reminds me of the time when David—the ‘man after God’s own heart’—replaced Saul as king.” The Scholar knocked his pipe against his knee, dislodging the dead embers. They fell to the ground, indistinguishable in the dirt. It was hard to tell whether or not he intended his action as a dramatic metaphor.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The Elder refilled his camping mug from his thermos. Steam rose in a miniature imitation of the smoky campfire. He spoke for the first time, with a nod of appreciation to each of his colleagues. “The lesson from both biblical and church history is God’s faithfulness to rekindle the embers of a dying faith.” He took a cautious sip of coffee. “The Holy Ghost can be trusted to reignite passion for Jesus. Your friends’ spiritual state may fit what Plymouth Brethren theologians call the ‘great falling away’… I won’t debate that. But the spiritual health and vitality of the Church is in Someone else’s hands. I believe the Holy Ghost will do exactly as Jesus promised.”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Revival.” The Younger uttered the single word in a neutral monotone. He reached out and stirred the campfire with a stick. Sparks flared upward in response. “Let’s hope so.”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The Elder raised his coffee mug in salute, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. “Let us pray so.”</span></span><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-71252594840985605922019-07-31T11:29:00.048-07:002024-02-19T07:23:52.798-08:00Windblown<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaGqCvOA_7HAgBLo-rwHhQNE3QNsE6nrEHL2n3j6fbLv4_619aGOdOxX6nueqQEqhAs-mIUNhU9pbiHEOCdZbn1rDmq0hEwvva2iVxuentwI3FpzAaDn0mDjxXvn4iS8QIywJlnbRJGknor9YdM6kuRTzo6yLq4yOlBmOlkpVenrkQCPo3tNrPrHKcqks0/s1080/windblownephesians.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaGqCvOA_7HAgBLo-rwHhQNE3QNsE6nrEHL2n3j6fbLv4_619aGOdOxX6nueqQEqhAs-mIUNhU9pbiHEOCdZbn1rDmq0hEwvva2iVxuentwI3FpzAaDn0mDjxXvn4iS8QIywJlnbRJGknor9YdM6kuRTzo6yLq4yOlBmOlkpVenrkQCPo3tNrPrHKcqks0/s320/windblownephesians.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of people in their deceitful scheming (Ephesians 4:13–14).”</span></span></p><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">* * *</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The desert sun, blistering and merciless, beats down on the Traveler. He pauses, shielding his eyes with one hand as he scans the horizon. The dry, searing wind raises another dust cloud. Somewhere — untold miles ahead — his destination lay waiting.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">He takes a frugal sip of tepid water from his canteen, soothing his parched throat. He must conserve his supply — hasty gulps could be his undoing in the wilderness.<br />He reaches inside his tunic for the ancient map. The tanned leather is as supple as silk after years of use, handed down from his father and his father’s father. The intricate chirography has faded over time, and he squints at the faint patterns, coaxing the reluctant hues to divulge his route.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">An unexpected voice interrupts his concentration.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Startled, the Traveler clutches the map to his chest and pivots to face the newcomer.<br />“Need some company?” His smile is broad, his desert-roughened voice hoarse but clear. He glances at the map in the Traveler’s grip, intrigued. “Where’d you get that?”</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The Traveler recovers from his surprise and smiles at his newfound companion. “Company’s always welcome. Are you bound for the Oasis, too?”</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The other nods enthusiastically, and the Traveler remembers the crumpled map in his fist. He relaxes his grip and holds it out for the other to see. “I’ve had this map for years. It’s a family heirloom, handed down from generation to generation.”</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“You’re using the same map as your grandparents?” The easy smile fades from his companion’s face, replaced by good-natured skepticism. No disrespect, but isn’t that just a little ... old-fashioned?”</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The Traveler laughs as he smooths the weathered fabric. “To be honest, the markings are pretty faded. It’s not always easy to interpret. But it’s worth the effort — the map’s a reliable guide.”</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">His companion takes a deep breath, searching for the right words. He’s concerned but doesn’t wish to offend. “No, what I mean is — there’s many ways to find the Oasis. Hanging on to outdated maps can be a little … restrictive. It’s a new day; maybe it’s time for new maps.”</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The Traveler smiles; his dry lips feel stretched. “This map’s never let anyone in my family down. Maybe I don’t understand every detail, but it’ll guide me to the Oasis.”</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“To each his own.” The newcomer shrugs. His eyes light up as he catches sight of something over the Traveler’s shoulder. “Excuse me — I think my ride’s arrived.”<br />He steps around the Traveler as a giant tumbleweed bears down on them. The Traveler tightens his grip on the map and scrambles out of the tumbleweed’s path.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">His companion inexplicably throws himself into its thorny embrace and is carried off. “New maps for a new generation …” His cheery voice fades as the tumbleweed rolls on its way.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The Traveler watches him disappear, perplexed. He glances at his map, studying the timeworn patterns and comparing them to the hazy mountains in the distance. Satisfied, he resumes his trek across the desert.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Not long after, he spies a cluster of cacti, spiny arms held stiffly aloft. A single flower adorns the tallest cactus, and the Traveler spots a young woman sitting cross-legged in its shade, shielding herself from the scorching sun and arid wind.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“Another pilgrim, bound for the Oasis.” She salutes him with an upraised canteen before downing a hearty swig. She grins as she screws the metal lid back into place. “Which route are you taking, friend?”</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The Traveler pauses in the shadow of the tallest cactus, mirroring her action with his own canteen. His moistened lips don’t feel as cracked as he returns her smile.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“The same route I’ve been on since childhood.” He shows her the map.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The young woman runs a gentle finger over its soft surface. Her eyes widen. “I used to have one just like this,” she enthuses, handing the map back to the Traveler. “But I traded it in. They say if you don’t change maps every so often, you risk becoming narrow-minded. I make a point of trading for a new one every three years or so.”</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The Traveler looks perplexed. He glances from her sincere face to the map in his hands. “A different map every three years? How do you know whether or not they’re legit? For all you know, they might lead you in the opposite direction, and you’ll wind up never finding the Oasis.”</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">She climbs to her feet, smiling easily as another swarm of tumbleweeds approaches. “It’s the journey, not the destination, that matters.” She leaps into the nearest tumbleweed, giving the Traveler a friendly wave as she is carried off.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Alarmed, he consults the map and races after her, waving his arms. “Don’t go that way—you’re heading straight for Dry Gulch! There’s nothing there but rattlesnakes and scorpions!”</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“That’s just your interpretation.” Her voice fades as the tumbleweeds reel on.<br />The Traveler slows to a halt. He consults the map again and his heart sinks. A sere wind tousles his hair as he stares after the tumbleweeds. They plunge over the edge of a precipice and disappear from sight.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The Traveler stands motionless, arms hanging loose at his sides. He glances over his shoulder at the cactus, as if hoping the spiny succulent could explain or offer comfort.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">He takes another sip from his canteen and turns to face the distant mountains. He wipes his mouth on his sleeve, squinting at the map. Satisfied, he tucks it inside his tunic and resumes his dogged trek.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“No turning back,” the Traveler mutters under his breath as he passes the cactus. “No turning back.”</span><style>@font-face
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-14780881021837991152019-05-25T10:20:00.014-07:002023-01-06T13:41:03.516-08:00One Last Dance Party<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg05rwW8gnJYR6V11satA3afZpqkpYGuCXHb8Y-FVWjgG-YSewIQFD-RY34CXcKMXDgNCf0bGmJerNVWjKo_B8q9SJdUoKnt80eYXhFFPbwmfm6_2gBv7lH4EwjUAAtiRmkT0b6aB7iNkQP4X3nZ6HC_JOpCuRgWZvahwL6prgDzUQ00ljiIYXN_QtngQ/s1080/sallysolitude.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg05rwW8gnJYR6V11satA3afZpqkpYGuCXHb8Y-FVWjgG-YSewIQFD-RY34CXcKMXDgNCf0bGmJerNVWjKo_B8q9SJdUoKnt80eYXhFFPbwmfm6_2gBv7lH4EwjUAAtiRmkT0b6aB7iNkQP4X3nZ6HC_JOpCuRgWZvahwL6prgDzUQ00ljiIYXN_QtngQ/s320/sallysolitude.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> <br /></span></span></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Sally and I were born only a few months apart. If we had attended the same high school, we’d have been in the same group photos at graduation. I don’t know her complete biography — she shared tidbits here and there, but there were a lot of gaps where it wouldn’t have been polite to pry — but suffice it to say our lives post-graduation went in very different directions.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I met Sally (not her real name) through a local non-profit service agency. I had the weekly privilege of leading a small team of volunteers to help clean her modest dwelling. Years of substance abuse had robbed Sally of much of her mobility, and she appreciated our help with the things she could no longer do herself.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Despite her fragile condition, Sally always greeted us with a mischievous grin and her signature reply whenever I’d ask how she was doing, “I’m still walking, and I’m still talking!”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Just a few weeks ago, as we cleaned her kitchen, Sally turned on some classic 1960s rock — über-loud — and cajoled the high school volunteers into joining her in a shuffling dance party in the middle of her living room.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I’ll never forget Sally’s expression as the volunteers held hands with her and joined her impromptu circle of celebration. “Who you are – is a gift,” she admonished each of them, wagging a stern finger. “Don’t let nobody steal that away from you.”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">As she hugged her dance-mates farewell, Sally beamed like a home-coming queen on prom night.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The following week, I noticed that she seemed weaker, and her mind kept wandering. Concerned, I asked, “Are you feeling okay, Sally?”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">She laughed much like her usual self, flashing her mischievous grin. “I'm still walking, Robby, and I’m still talking!”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">She didn’t instigate another dance party, but struggled off her couch to hug the volunteers as they left, thanking them for their help. As each student embraced her, a neon-bright smile lit Sally’s face.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">We never saw her again. Her body was discovered later that week by a neighbor … on Mother’s Day. The paramedics said she’d been dead for several days. Her fragile, worn-out body just couldn’t go on any longer.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Sally died alone. The child-like joy on her face when the students danced with her, less than two weeks before, seems especially poignant now.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I recall an old Randy Stonehill lyric:</span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The sound of our motor would frighten the starlings, and they’d rise from the fields to fly,</span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">And I couldn’t help feeling sad and inspired by their desperate ballet in the sky.</span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Say a prayer for the starlings …</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">”</span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I didn’t know Sally very long, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget her. I’m glad – incredibly grateful – she was able to enjoy one last dance party.</span><br /></span></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-20294416114515058232019-04-18T09:09:00.002-07:002023-01-06T14:02:02.052-08:00Life Verse<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirz0n0tmDjMzmCJAXKzX3uRnz_gu3kKgCWSXSlnyBYb96MrmF-0UwtMw8zlb_5R4ND-LSNbKNmEWburpyAZ6QQV-2J_9LVYDtB_Jntq7TKnHVdREl7ogY5plVcTHvkTNDbSYu39W9J3ryGobzV0Kk59sjcsy3z5jWXjv8ZtWX4FVmoi4IL85dE2NK-4A/s1080/lifeversejohn155.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirz0n0tmDjMzmCJAXKzX3uRnz_gu3kKgCWSXSlnyBYb96MrmF-0UwtMw8zlb_5R4ND-LSNbKNmEWburpyAZ6QQV-2J_9LVYDtB_Jntq7TKnHVdREl7ogY5plVcTHvkTNDbSYu39W9J3ryGobzV0Kk59sjcsy3z5jWXjv8ZtWX4FVmoi4IL85dE2NK-4A/s320/lifeversejohn155.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“Let’s go around the circle, and everyone can share their Life Verse …”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">My teenage ears perk up and my blood pressure spikes. <i>Life verse</i>? I’d never given it any thought. I wasn’t even aware that believers were supposed to choose — or were they given? — a Life Verse. I knew the Bible was full of verses that inspired, challenged, confronted, and comforted people. But no one told me I needed to pick a Life Verse.<br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">So, feeling a little like I’d somehow missed an important spiritual memo, I waited with bated breath as others shared their Life Verses. (All the while feverishly hoping that one would pop into mind before it was my turn.)</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">An inspiring collection of Life Verses were shared around our circle. I found myself repeatedly thinking: “Dang – I wish I could use that one. Or maybe this one. Is it kosher if more than one person picks the same life verse?” Some examples:</span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“Trust
in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight
(Proverbs 3:5–6).”</span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“I can do all things through Him who gives me strength (Philippians 4:13).”</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me (Galatians 2:20).”</span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“For me to live is Christ and to die is gain (Philippians 1:21).”</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">My turn loomed ever closer, and I was getting a little desperate. All that came to mind was a verse from John’s gospel that – compared to my friends</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> choices – seemed tame, a trifle anemic, and generally less “spiritually awesome.”<br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Suddenly, all eyes were on me and I heard myself blurting out: “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in Me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from Me you can do nothing (John 15:5).”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The rest of the group nodded in solemn solidarity and moved on to the next person. I heaved a sigh of relief and relaxed; I’d successfully passed the Life Verse Test.<br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">In the years since, I’ve often returned to John 15:5 and marveled at what an appropriate choice it was. (Although I’d also suggest that it’s not a brilliant idea to isolate a single Bible verse as your life-guiding mantra.)</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Jesus is the Vine — the Source – and we, as branches, are the recipients. We’re completely dependent on Him. We can (and should) be wise about how we do life and ministry — planning, evaluating, learning, risk-taking — but everything needs to be firmly connected to, and flowing from, the Source.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Jesus <i>wants</i> us to be fruitful. We get to partner with Him. I love the wording in the <i>Nueva Versión Internacional</i>: we will “give” much fruit. It’s not about us becoming spiritual giants; it’s about giving fruit to bless others. And it’s a memorable Spanish phrase: <i>dara mucho fruto</i>.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The latter half of John 15:5 sounds like a warning — “apart from me you can do nothing” — but I’ve always found it strangely encouraging, perhaps because the positive outcome of doing the opposite seems pretty clear-cut.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">In hindsight, my hasty choice of a “life verse” – even if picked under Christian peer pressure – may have been inspired by the serendipitous Spirit. You never know; it sounds like something He’d do.</span></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-73529426536851355362019-02-06T09:30:00.006-08:002024-02-19T08:44:55.792-08:00Graveyard Shift<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPYBrfu4-i08RnxjXM1PTt7qbF0MUGqGmso-uTj3HxCe8_pfw3oL6tmUHce7TiJ3KE7-hr9rpwoI2WRFrok-e0jEh5hsmYKs4ah7JSmU69DP3x3x4N_GIu-ucUqDc0suJfrR8fQ6bkien8yy_aGa-9g0W1BM9oLm_9QBIdWY1ciUXAzz0z9TzAk_7DXhwJ/s1080/graveyard_shift.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPYBrfu4-i08RnxjXM1PTt7qbF0MUGqGmso-uTj3HxCe8_pfw3oL6tmUHce7TiJ3KE7-hr9rpwoI2WRFrok-e0jEh5hsmYKs4ah7JSmU69DP3x3x4N_GIu-ucUqDc0suJfrR8fQ6bkien8yy_aGa-9g0W1BM9oLm_9QBIdWY1ciUXAzz0z9TzAk_7DXhwJ/s320/graveyard_shift.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>The etymology of “graveyard shift” turned out to be less entertaining than I’d hoped. I’d heard the apocryphal tales about people sitting in graveyards overnight, listening for bells rung by frantic people who’d been buried prematurely. And that, according to generational folklore, was the genesis of sayings like, “saved by the bell” and “graveyard shift.”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>As it turns out ... Nope. Entertaining tales, but not based in fact.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>That’s a shame, really. I was all set to blog a merry metaphor about wandering the cemeteries of greater blogdom, looking and listening for signs of life.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>That’s a convoluted way of simply noting that blogs come and go. There are always newcomers joining the ‘blogosphere,’ while others have said their piece, made their peace, and moved on. Sometimes, their blog disappears entirely, usually coinciding with the expiration of their domain renewal. Their common epitaph is “404: Page Not Found.”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>Others remain online indefinitely, untended for months and even years. It’s like one of those “frozen in time” moments in a movie — an online record of their last blog-worthy thoughts and then ... </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>The reasons behind these missing and dormant blogs are as varied as the bloggers who created them. There’s no “one size fits all” explanation, except to note: “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens (<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Ecclesiastes+3%3A1&version=NIV%E2%80%9D" target="new">Eccl. 3:1</a>).”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>For example: Len Hjalmarson, a thoughtful and prolific blogger, recently removed all content from his <i>Next Reformation</i> website, with the exception of a single farewell post. Later that week, his website domain expired and even that final post vanished. Len was instrumental to my initial foray into blogging; his departure hits a little harder. An end to an era.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>Ditto for the departure of Brother Maynard, college friend, insightful blogger, and inspirational sounding board as I created the earliest drafts of what would become <i>Post-Charismatic</i>.<br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>Someday, I would love to gather with my blogging kin around a campfire — a real one, with roasted meat and hearty ale — and share our present-day stories. I’m sure there’s a lot we could learn from each other.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>I’d even be willing to spend a night on the graveyard shift. You never know.<br /></span></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-31718864286234911832019-01-25T08:30:00.068-08:002023-07-19T07:25:13.370-07:00Sowing & Reaping & Karma<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMvUW3YG6vzknFPfK0C7bCYPnzH8yc5ZULLiHa3zAk6-PyECLpDN-6J_Ovuj06tUSBra8X2TEYbf4-M2KMfoC2AFO5wL41K45TGdqF3Blt-lpbF6sCyj6IAjidTD32W7XIOYBP9ol8Pm-pRCJ9bWx5-C6Bbk0xDFxqeluxKRDpba1PqlUVqUSVXDF9Rg/s1080/reapkarmsow.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMvUW3YG6vzknFPfK0C7bCYPnzH8yc5ZULLiHa3zAk6-PyECLpDN-6J_Ovuj06tUSBra8X2TEYbf4-M2KMfoC2AFO5wL41K45TGdqF3Blt-lpbF6sCyj6IAjidTD32W7XIOYBP9ol8Pm-pRCJ9bWx5-C6Bbk0xDFxqeluxKRDpba1PqlUVqUSVXDF9Rg/s320/reapkarmsow.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“Karma’s gonna getcha.” Long before it became popular to joke about karma, the apostle Paul introduced us to the idea of “reaping what we sow.”</span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“Don’t be misled—you cannot mock the justice of God. You will always harvest what you plant. Those who live only to satisfy their own sinful nature will harvest decay and death from that sinful nature. But those who live to please the Spirit will harvest everlasting life from the Spirit. So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up (Galatians 6:7-9 NLT).”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">It’s worth pointing out, right from the outset, that there</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">s a subtle but crucial difference between “karma” and “reaping what you sow.”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">In popular usage (as opposed to how studied Buddhists would understand it), “karma” sounds like an impersonal, outside force seeking to balance a scale of justice somewhere. Some people shake their heads and mutter something to the effect of: “</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Karma</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’s gonna getcha</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">,” as if karma is a vengeful entity looking to slap people down if they don’t play nice. (But it’s okay if they get slapped down, because they deserved it.)</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Ironically, those who invoke “karma</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’s gonna getcha</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">” often take gleeful delight in seeing others get slapped down. Let</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’s hope karma doesn</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’t boomerang on them for getting a kick out of the suffering of others</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Reaping What You Sow (RWYS) isn’t the same thing. God’s not a vengeful entity on the lookout for reasons to slap people down and say, “See? You deserved that.” And if Christians gloat when someone gets “what they deserved,” karma may not apply, but conviction and repentance might.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">RWYS is far more sobering than karma. The </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">sin nature</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">”</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> that we sow to is … their own. It’s not an outside force, exerting its nefarious will on the unsuspecting. Read Galatians again: “Those who sow to please <i>their own</i> sinful nature will harvest decay and death ...” RWYS isn’t retributive justice from outside or above — it’s more akin to the law of cause-and-effect.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">For example, if we’re consistently dishonest in our dealings with others, we shouldn't be shocked when no one trusts us. If we treat people like garbage, it should come as no surprise to wake up one day and find ourselves friendless.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The other option is noticeably different: If we “sow to the Spirit,” we reap a harvest of good from the Spirit. In other words, contrary to the negative results of sowing to our sin nature, we can choose instead to sow — or “live to please the Spirit” — and reap a harvest of life from the Spirit.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">There</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’s</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> a subtle, profound, and earth-shattering difference between the two:</span></span></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Live to please yourself, and you</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">ll reap decay and death (because our sin nature corrupts everything).</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Live to please the Spirit, and you</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">ll reap life (because God is holy and incorruptible).</span></span></li></ul><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Therefore, Paul concludes, don’t get tired of doing the right thing (living to please the Spirit). There will be a harvest of everlasting life if we don’t give up (and retreat to the old ways of pleasing ourselves).</span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“Those who belong to Christ Jesus have nailed the passions and desires of their sinful nature to His cross and crucified them there. Since we are living by the Spirit, let us follow the Spirit’s leading in every part of our lives (Galatians 5:24-25 NLT).”</span></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-72506810419457562762018-07-27T14:37:00.048-07:002023-01-06T13:39:08.500-08:00Prodigals & Pharisees<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqRtybsjzDLi3PmsE0DYqfe9yOJ_1tubAK4ChTNXD1z9EXFTYbC0HaLpQ0vjHwqlEQ8N_srQV1s7VCaJMglcC55s4tCHfizxelvXLZAMjwxwOQOUctp3HZ3oIfeXKb9KZ1ZX4hi40f-CbNoC4bLe_f1a3BY9fFL4QDj68FqjzEasbOvI0d4T6he9tDRg/s288/whoseeyes.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="288" data-original-width="288" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqRtybsjzDLi3PmsE0DYqfe9yOJ_1tubAK4ChTNXD1z9EXFTYbC0HaLpQ0vjHwqlEQ8N_srQV1s7VCaJMglcC55s4tCHfizxelvXLZAMjwxwOQOUctp3HZ3oIfeXKb9KZ1ZX4hi40f-CbNoC4bLe_f1a3BY9fFL4QDj68FqjzEasbOvI0d4T6he9tDRg/s1600/whoseeyes.jpg" width="288" /></a></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I thought it was a great idea for a song lyric: “Prodigals and Pharisees, equal at the foot of the cross”. Last week, I even suggested to a friend, who is a gifted songwriter, that he should compose it.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">He gave me the same kind of benignly polite look that I suspect would be on my face, if our places were reversed and he</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">d suggested I write a book based on one of his flashes of insight.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Still, the idea stuck with me. Not being much of a songwriter, it was probably inevitable that it would turn into a blog post instead.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The idea was sparked by one of Jesus’ pithy stories, found in <a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke+18%3A9-14&amp;version=NIV" target="_blank">Luke 18:9–14</a>: To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable:</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God.”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The characters were chosen quite deliberately by Jesus. The Pharisees were the super-religious heroes (at least, in their own eyes), and tax collectors clung by their fingernails to the lowest rung on the societal ladder of the day.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The point of Jesus’ parable is exquisitely clear: only those who <i>recognize</i> their spiritual poverty receive God’s mercy. And let’s not lose sight of where Jesus aimed the parable: at those “who were confident of their own self-righteousness and looked down on everyone else.”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The great irony is that <i>both</i> characters were in equal need of God’s grace and mercy. They stood in the same temple, prayed to the same God, yet only one went home “justified.” The other wrapped himself in a cloak of his own making and wandered off without even realizing his desperate situation.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">It’s the same today: you don’t need a membership card or initiation rite to be a Pharisee. It’s an attitude, not an organization. And there are multitudes of ‘prodigals’ who have wandered in some way from their faith, and yet later find themselves wanting to reconnect with God (like the tax collector in the parable).</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">At the foot of the Cross, pharisees and prodigals are on equal footing, with equal need for forgiveness and mercy. Whenever a church meets, it’s really just another gathering of “Sinners Anonymous.” Some may be further along in their understanding and practice of “living by the Spirit” (<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=galatians+5%3A16-25&amp;version=NLT%E2%80%9D" target="_blank">Galatians 5:16–25</a>), but none of us earned it, never did and still don’t deserve it, and daren’t<b>*</b> take it for granted.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>*</b>Real word – Google it.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“The Christian does not believe God will love us because we are good, but that God will make us good because He loves us.” ~ C.S. Lewis<br /></span><br /></span></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-66073823048554564002018-05-26T07:30:00.089-07:002024-02-19T08:19:47.271-08:00Post-Charismatic: A Publishing Journey<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP-dUFVIc3ytU3UUv0KY_nUrjC-QcKBA-inr_fc3QHHpewxG-N_58WdrBvIK9J5MURQoglCScpuuYbUlC6hQydvioAa-nzkPlBTsKnRzggKIctVhBwoHea_FqTq8MuTcboDn-OkLp98UHWL_nWPjMnTsD4KhMPbnZqZ9hC3pqIXIOZ2fl6CXM-l37WRGe8/s1080/postchar_journey.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP-dUFVIc3ytU3UUv0KY_nUrjC-QcKBA-inr_fc3QHHpewxG-N_58WdrBvIK9J5MURQoglCScpuuYbUlC6hQydvioAa-nzkPlBTsKnRzggKIctVhBwoHea_FqTq8MuTcboDn-OkLp98UHWL_nWPjMnTsD4KhMPbnZqZ9hC3pqIXIOZ2fl6CXM-l37WRGe8/s320/postchar_journey.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></span></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""></span></span></span></span></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="">The saga of <i>Post-Charismatic</i> is a whirlwind tour of the publishing world and the roller-coaster ups-and-downs associated with it.</span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />
<br /><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>
<span><span face="">There was a lot of discussion in this blog</span></span></span></span></span><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face=""><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face="">’s</span></span></span></span></span> early days (circa 2004) about a growing exodus of disillusioned believers from Pentecostal and charismatic churches. Many had once viewed their churches as a valuable</span></span></span></span></span><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face=""> source of spiritual vitality — but no longer.</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br /><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>
</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face="">Encouraged/egged-on by several blogging friends, </span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face="">I decided to try my hand at</span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face=""> unpacking the </span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">“</span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face="">why’s</span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face="">”</span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face=""> behind the growing number of self-identified <i>post-charismatics</i>.</span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face=""> A</span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face=""> bit of background reading and research, dialogue with some fellow Spirit-filled refugees, and then</span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face=""> write a blogging mini-series (five, maybe six posts).</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br /><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>
<span><span face="">I</span></span></span></span></span><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face="">’</span></span></span></span></span><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">d barely begun</span></span><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face=""> my research when I realized </span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">“</span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face="">a few blog posts</span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face="">”</span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face=""> wouldn’t do the topic justice. Instead, what was tentatively billed as the </span></span></span></span></span><i><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face="">Post-Charismatic Project</span></span></span></span></span></i><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face=""> would be published as a subsection of my blog — an extremely large subsection, as twenty months of research and writing took shape. </span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face="">I jokingly referred to it as “the mother of all research papers.”</span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face=""></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br /><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">
<span><span face="">Even before its release, several people suggested I look into getting the content published in book form. I did my best to shop the proposal around but received zero response. (Note: possibly because my query letters sucked.)</span></span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">So I went ahead with my initial plan and designed a website-within-a-blog.</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg198x-0JKi1X9RHdUBsOMYc-DjGGL7qgmqiRrFiYsRLgtxAOB1Bkm0KGcQVerANR2gCN3kt7Xk4VU_xzzmRnbWqwUoQ40E3FuSo7eOlpYiu8niutOQCduDTihKI23lVINMHYOYc3NrOenH/s1600/postchar2006.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="71" data-original-width="576" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg198x-0JKi1X9RHdUBsOMYc-DjGGL7qgmqiRrFiYsRLgtxAOB1Bkm0KGcQVerANR2gCN3kt7Xk4VU_xzzmRnbWqwUoQ40E3FuSo7eOlpYiu8niutOQCduDTihKI23lVINMHYOYc3NrOenH/s16000/postchar2006.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i><span><span><span><span><span face="">In hindsight, I have no idea what inspired this banner art.</span></span></span></span></span></i></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">The website went public in early 2006 and word spread quickly around the blogosphere. Brent Toderash from <a href="http://subversiveinfluence.com/" target="new">Subversive Influence</a> (who also provided <span face="">invaluable c<span face="">ritiques of the early drafts)</span></span> created an online forum where readers could interact on the issues raised by the <i>Project</i>. To say the forum was <i>inundated</i> with lively conversation would be a classic understatement. Hundreds of comments spanning multiple threads — with a surprising minimum of trolls.</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhswLF__MP2dlwjYJ56D1_y773CsDThgAyKxJIXYdr4NHwALjY5Mw_uWufDHH_P6CKpzkLbTGEnRAzNs4W5JdJIYM-2UjfNGYoWNnxGYqRQKUNPVwXj-R6IM81i52gSmRqfpRMYoJdEZthrc6uvh8qWTaPBuzIpLwPBYEXtXrSpvX0Tg0yLIfQYyl_pAA/s1250/nextwave_cover.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1250" data-original-width="945" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhswLF__MP2dlwjYJ56D1_y773CsDThgAyKxJIXYdr4NHwALjY5Mw_uWufDHH_P6CKpzkLbTGEnRAzNs4W5JdJIYM-2UjfNGYoWNnxGYqRQKUNPVwXj-R6IM81i52gSmRqfpRMYoJdEZthrc6uvh8qWTaPBuzIpLwPBYEXtXrSpvX0Tg0yLIfQYyl_pAA/s320/nextwave_cover.jpg" width="242" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"><span><i>I had to pinch myself when I first saw this.</i></span></span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">The publishing angle took an unexpected turn later that year. An email arrived from jolly olde England, offering to publish the </span></span></span></span><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face=""><i>Post-Charismatic Project</i> in book form.</span></span></span></span> <span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">At first, I thought it was the digital equivalent of a prank phone call. Just in case, I contacted the publishing house in question and inquired whether or not a certain name was associated with the company.</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />
<br /><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">
<span><span face="">“You mean our senior acquisitions editor?” the polite British woman asked over the phone. “I</span></span></span></span><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">d take an email from him very seriously, if I were you.”</span></span></span></span><br />
</span><blockquote>
<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span face=""><span>And then it hit me</span></span></span></span><span><span>. </span></span><b><span><span><span face=""><span>I</span></span></span></span></b></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’ve</span></span></b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face=""><span><b> been discovered</b>.</span></span></span></span> <span><span><span face=""><span>They</span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face=""><span> want to publish the <i>Post-Charismatic Project</i>!</span></span></span></span></span></span></blockquote><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">
<span><span face="">A whirlwind of contract </span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face=""><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">signing</span></span></span></span> and untangling governmental red tape between a Canadian writer and a British publishing house ensued. I quickly found myself knee-deep in the process of editors scouring through my manuscript, suggesting additions, deletions, areas where the material could be tightened up, and so on. It was a fun learning curve.</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face=""><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">Eventually, </span></span></span></span>I was treated to the odd sensation which accompanies the first glimpse of the proposed cover art. Initially, I wasn’t a huge fan of either design, to be honest (especially all the question marks), but that’s part of the publication swirl. You don’t have control over what the publisher decides. And they’re the experts, so you need to trust their instincts.</span></span></span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbyHdiWTampEKzXpuKbSKnzOY06HdQI5VvE9QaNYPTsaZ3OZXBFYJLTnOJsUKWPEMzqTd9sznqcG4bkGtBgraziSJGbQTCavwu_hzUwohpoOVqfaqZOUWHrayh6TOv3tPh0K9yE53vMm_v/s0/twocovers.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="288" data-original-width="381" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbyHdiWTampEKzXpuKbSKnzOY06HdQI5VvE9QaNYPTsaZ3OZXBFYJLTnOJsUKWPEMzqTd9sznqcG4bkGtBgraziSJGbQTCavwu_hzUwohpoOVqfaqZOUWHrayh6TOv3tPh0K9yE53vMm_v/w320-h242/twocovers.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="">In the end, they chose the second cover design, which was the better of the two in my limited opinion. Except to note that, as a guitarist, the idea of wearing a suit while playing makes my skin crawl (don’t tell B.B. King).<br /></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""><i> </i></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""><i>Post-Charismatic?</i> was officially released in the UK on the first day of April, 2008. (April Fool</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face="">’s Day = publication day ... It</span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face="">’s okay, go ahead and laugh. I did.</span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">)</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />
<br /><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">
<span><span face="">And then another unexpected twist ...</span></span>
</span></span><br />
</span></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face=""><i>Post-Charismatic?</i> was available in bookstores all over the UK, garnering press attention and positive reviews. Emails and hand-written letters from readers across the Pond started showing up in my digital and analog mailboxes, including one from a university professor who used the book in one of his classes.</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face=""> </span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">But for reasons unknown, the release on <i>this</i> side of the Atlantic was delayed for over a year. My inbox was flooded with requests from American and Canadian readers who wanted copies, but there was nothing I could do. Their only option was to order a copy through Amazon UK.</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">
<span><span face="">As I later learned, an American publishing house had bought out the British company, and their rules for publication were different. Things became clearer when I phoned the American company directly.<br /></span></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">“</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">Do you have a radio or television presence, Robby? You don’t? Well, are you a known commodity on the conference speaking circuit? I see ... Are you a mega-church pastor? No?</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">”</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face=""> </span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>L</i></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face=""><i>ong pause. </i></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">“</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">I guess we</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">’re done here</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">.”</span></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">“</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">The British publisher seems to believe in my writing.</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">”</span></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">“</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">They don’t know what they’re doing. We downsized them.</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">”</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face=""> </span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">In short, their sales department had decided that I didn’t qualify to be published. Since legally-binding documents had been signed, they were contractually obligated to the first print run. But that was as far as they would (grudgingly) go.</span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span><span face="">Zero promotion. Non-existent publicity. No buzz.</span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> Another year passed before <i>Post-Charismatic? </i>was available on Amazon USA.</span><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">
<span><span face="">For a writer, this was understandably frustrating and not a little deflating. The three-year print run came and went, and the muffled thud you may have heard was the apparent end of my writing career.</span></span></span></span><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">
<span><span face="">But after the print run ended, I continued to receive private inquiries about the book’s availability. Self-described fan-boy Luke Geraty, who would later invite me to join the writing team at Think Theology, planted the idea of an ebook version. And I realized I had another option: the wild frontier of self-publishing.</span></span></span></span><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">
<span><span face="">It took almost half a year of wrangling with the American company to obtain an official “author rights reversal” (despite this being clearly delineated in my contract). </span></span></span></span><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">They also waived their </span></span></span></span><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face=""><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face=""><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">“</span></span></span></span>right of first refusal</span></span></span></span><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face=""><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">”</span></span></span></span> for my next book</span></span></span></span>, because their sales department considered me perpetually unpublishable.</span></span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">The important piece is this: with an author rights reversal, I regained creative and legal control over my work.</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">
<span><span face="">The latest version of <a href="http://www.robbymcalpine.com/p/robbys-books.html" target="_blank">Post-Charismatic</a> is a proper second edition: updated, edited (yet again, ruthlessly), complete with the new framing story of a fictional </span></span></span></span><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">“</span></span></span></span><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">Charismatics Anonymous</span></span></span></span><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">”</span></span></span></span><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face=""> meeting to introduce and conclude the book.</span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face=""> The learning curve to create both print and ebook formats was steep, but having artistic control of my work was well worth it.</span></span>
</span></span><br /><br /><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">
<span><span face="">I had no idea how this publishing journey would unfold when I began researching for “a few blog posts” back in 2004. But it’s been a challenging, satisfying, and ultimately empowering education.</span></span></span></span></span></p></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-76917519310383453252018-04-23T11:17:00.006-07:002024-02-19T08:27:34.012-08:00Satan Sends an Emoji<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji7O6xTIyCSL_KCQbcnOcZ6Eg4d7VgicAFu-U50HDf1UsYigUK_EiPyQreJRMqQF_vyhPQzxHbmJ1067QpiTiYd7PsIE79MAhWO16lrF3p287qZFimK0otr2iSF8vAr06hk3ai8S34PpvrSsWpolkNeFiq380oWi5AbhKMsBnhTt9BA54lDWN6moYTUswN/s1080/sendsanemoji.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji7O6xTIyCSL_KCQbcnOcZ6Eg4d7VgicAFu-U50HDf1UsYigUK_EiPyQreJRMqQF_vyhPQzxHbmJ1067QpiTiYd7PsIE79MAhWO16lrF3p287qZFimK0otr2iSF8vAr06hk3ai8S34PpvrSsWpolkNeFiq380oWi5AbhKMsBnhTt9BA54lDWN6moYTUswN/s320/sendsanemoji.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In the Olden Days, Satan would phone church people and personally congratulate them when they took on tasks normally reserved for him. “You’re doing one helluva job. Keep up the good work!”</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Life is busier and more complicated t</span></span><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">hese days, and so, wanting to keep up with the times and technology, the Devil is now sending diabolically clever emoji’s to signal his approval.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The task at hand, as always, is two-fold:</span></span><br />
</span></p><blockquote>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">(A) Demoralize church leaders to the point where they quit.</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">(B) Failing that, surround said leaders with enough toxicity that they can only survive by building walls of protection around themselves.</span></span></blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For example: in the Olden Days, a well-timed phone call — preferably during Sunday lunch — which interrupts a leader’s family time with a barrage of criticism. Meal-time ruined; leader’s motives, gifts, and passion called into question; spouse & children witness the carnage, which in turn (dis)colors <i>their</i> view of church. Perfect!</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The caller hangs up, tingling with a rush of self-righteous adrenaline — “I really <s>gave them a piece of my mind</s> held them accountable.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And Satan sends an emoji.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For those eager not to miss out on the bandwagon, there are many ways to earn these congratulatory dopamine-enhancers (far more satisfying than a mere “like” or “retweet.”) Here’s a partial list:</span></span><br />
</span><ul><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A Declaration Of Defamation shows up in a leader’s mail slot in the church office, from that most-prolific of all letter-writers: “Anonymous.”</span></span>
</li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The recurring line-up of the usual suspects outside the pastor’s office, eager to grind their Axe of Agenda because the pastor has (in their opinion) somehow failed <s>them</s> God in a recent sermon.</span></span>
</li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The young worship leader — after investing hours and hours in practice, prayer, and rehearsals — is informed that numerous people plan to boycott worship because they don’t like (a) the volume, (b) the drums, (c) the songs, or (d) (<i>fill in pet musical peeve here</i>).</span></span>
</li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Or the equally disemboweling dagger: “You’re not anointed” or “you’re leading from ‘the flesh’ and not from the Spirit” (because these people can discern a worship leader’s heart and motives, just like God can).</span></span>
</li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The prickly email sent from a parishioner with a laundry list of <s>complaints</s> spiritual concerns, speaking “on behalf of a lot of people” (to give their criticism added weight).</span></span>
</li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Those who delight in spreading gossip under the guise of ‘concern’: “You know, a lot of people are saying [<i>blank</i>] about you behind your back—I just thought you should know.”</span></span>
</li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The grumpy person in the lobby—arms crossed, brow furrowed—compelled by All That Is Holy to accuse the leader of being aloof, unapproachable, or “looking defensive” (while remaining blissfully unaware of the irony).</span></span></li></ul><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This is only a partial list. With time, effort, and a little creativity, the possibilities and permutations are simply endless. The Enemy appreciates the additional help. Be diligent, and don’t ever take your foot off the gas pedal.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And Satan sends an emoji.</span></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-25856489719449262872018-02-28T17:17:00.002-08:002023-01-06T13:34:31.051-08:00Ministry DNA – One Shot<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8oufHwhKRp57NXV-JL4G6mDEZ0nbdw6pLV18g4e5D1ss2hLK-7RKjdbKVHhd-EariL57uJryWgC5xt7ZZSR-CC59RMFlxIzncUuZKA8qRfSyMKIQUdl1Tf2Yhxw_3-h7VrxaEAYJqr4ZOdzX2nRTbtUjNvLJe7EgJmcpMNbgCUAm98fnnhHhOni1c4w/s1080/DNA_cross.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8oufHwhKRp57NXV-JL4G6mDEZ0nbdw6pLV18g4e5D1ss2hLK-7RKjdbKVHhd-EariL57uJryWgC5xt7ZZSR-CC59RMFlxIzncUuZKA8qRfSyMKIQUdl1Tf2Yhxw_3-h7VrxaEAYJqr4ZOdzX2nRTbtUjNvLJe7EgJmcpMNbgCUAm98fnnhHhOni1c4w/s320/DNA_cross.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“Whatever you hook </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">em with, you gotta feed </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">em.”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">George Mercado taught me many crucial lessons in ministry during our six years together. One of his pithy proverbs that summed up an important ministry value was the above saying.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“Spiritual DNA” — the foundational building blocks of ministry — comprises the all-important first steps in launching a new ministry initiative.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Not exactly earth-shattering news, I’ll admit, nor is it rocket science, but it’s true. We get one chance — one — to set the culture, ethos, values and “vibe” for a new ministry. It’s extremely difficult to change a culture once it’s established. Hence the need to go slow in order to build well.</span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">And by ministry “vibe”, I simply mean that leaders set the example by <i>demonstrating</i> ministry values and practices. “More is caught than taught,” as they say. Leaders can’t direct from behind; we have to lead the way.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Another saying I’ve used in recent years (not as pithy as George’s, but I’m working on it): “It’s too late to build the foundation if you’re already living on the first floor.”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">It’s another way to point out that it’s far wiser – </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">however long it may take – </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">to do the painstaking work of building, communicating, and demonstrating the DNA clearly and repeatedly before launching a new ministry initiative.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">George</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">s nugget of wisdom provides a helpful grid for what kind of ministry DNA will infuse the ministry. “Whatever you hook </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">em with, you gotta feed </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">em.”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">If we use entertainment to attract people, we’ll reap people who expect to be entertained.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">If we call people to a discipling community, we</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">ll reap people who are attracted to a discipling community </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">If we cast a shallow vision, we’ll reap shallow people. As noted above, it’s notoriously difficult — if not impossible — to attract people through entertainment and expect they’ll later morph into spiritually mature believers with servant attitudes.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">If we call people back to their first love (Revelation 2:1–5), encourage them to use of their spiritual gifts for the good of others (2 Tim. 1:6–7), and call them to Jesus-style serving (John 13:12–17), we’ll reap a faith community that, while not perfect, will at least be heading in the right direction.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">We get one shot — one — to instill the DNA that shapes a new ministry for years to come. Once it’s embedded, it’s bedrock, which can either be an encouraging word or a sobering warning.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">George’s proverb should give us all pause. “Whatever you hook </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">em with, you gotta feed </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">em."</span></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-54727770467379041142018-01-22T10:02:00.002-08:002023-01-06T13:33:49.875-08:00Creative Writing's a Beach(ball)<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitGwtWNcG9ynFaDbAb6arPnco8_Txkt7uN0Mmhe9Y5prgxqPanQGpnbnfEUXVF6yWWIn9yU9sQoU7mMxCwESPXmg2tWUtu_gVCzrglyLzuVY4RqG68gm78-xh2yiRf6sAdmjzt4nEWVDStFkHs_e5rpgcO5sOfq8iioIShKleAZdxu90WDEB8lP3AfoA/s1080/beachball.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitGwtWNcG9ynFaDbAb6arPnco8_Txkt7uN0Mmhe9Y5prgxqPanQGpnbnfEUXVF6yWWIn9yU9sQoU7mMxCwESPXmg2tWUtu_gVCzrglyLzuVY4RqG68gm78-xh2yiRf6sAdmjzt4nEWVDStFkHs_e5rpgcO5sOfq8iioIShKleAZdxu90WDEB8lP3AfoA/s320/beachball.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> <br /></span></span></span></span></div><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Beachballs and creative
writing have a lot in common . You can shove a beachball underwater—out of
sight, out of mind—but it will inevitably escape its watery
dungeon and shatter the water</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">s surface like a breaching humpback whale.</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> <br /></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I wish I’d kept my first rejection letter. Among writers, that’s like framing your first earned dollar bill. But no, the letter threw me into the throes of a teen-aged writer funk. My writing career was over ... why would I keep the letter?<br /></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Hey, I was 13 years old. Puberty is notable for a couple of things: (a) myopic self-absorption and (b) less-than-stellar thinking skills.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The letter was a gem, too: photocopied crooked on a machine low on ink. I suspect the editor’s signature may have been photocopied, as well. A keep-sake if there ever was one—on so many levels. Alas.<br /><br />I started high school a year later. Despite the Department of Education’s cruel practice of adding <b>Grade 13</b> to the mind-numbing purgatory known as high school, there were exactly zero—ZERO—classes offered in creative writing. So, after a dubious attempt at one (1) short story in grade nine, my only notable output during five years of high school was a single haiku:</span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">School really bugs me</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">My freakin’ English teacher</span></span><br /><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">Makes me write haikus</span></span><br /></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">(<i>My teacher laughed out loud and gave me an </i></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">“</span></span><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">A</span></span><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">.”</span></span></i><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">) <br /></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">After high school, I enrolled in a Radio, Television, and Journalism (RTJ) program at college, but not for journalism. I went there with a vague idea of emulating WKRP’s <a href="https://youtu.be/3et3ArAeDCA" target="_blank">Dr. Johnny Fever</a>, and I had a blast as a DJ on our college radio station. The television courses were fascinating; I enjoyed the technical director role in the production control room.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The creative writing beachball remained incarcerated in Davy Jones</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> locker—I submitted weekly articles to the college paper only because I had to.<br /><br />Yet despite my lack of interest and work ethic (compared to my radio & television classes), guess where my best marks kept showing up? I felt like Lady MacBeth: “Out, damned <s>spot</s> beachball! Out, I say!”<br /><br />Fast forward a couple of years, to a different college in a different province. Without planning to, guess who ends up writing an article or two for the college paper? And the following year, becomes the editor?<br /><br />You’d think the sight of a neon-colored beachball punching its way to the surface—repeatedly—would qualify as a “sign” of some kind. And yet, after graduation, I managed to submerge the beachball again.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Looking back, it’s both fascinating and a little disturbing to realize how much influence my first rejection letter continued to wreak.<br /><br />Years later, </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">the beach ball resurfaced with a big splash when</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> I began blogging. Things went well for the first little while—I was even “discovered” and signed a book-publishing contract. Then the marketing department torpedoed my book, and my blogging audience tapered off shortly after.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">That was it. Beach ball malevolently spiked by a lawn dart dropped from orbit.<br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">In hindsight, I should’ve recognized the symmetry between my original rejection letter and this latest set-back. But I was again in a writer-blocked funk. I tossed the deflated beachball into a pile of rotting kelp, to be carried away by the cold and heartless tide.<br /><br />Fast forward to 2012: Another unexpected beachball ambush explodes to the surface, like a saltwater slap in the face. And this time—despite my fears, insecurities, and that nagging voice in the back of my head—I surrendered. And I’ve been writing ever since.<br /><br />Your gift may not be creative writing. But if there’s a beachball of creativity/passion that you keep squelching because of (<i>fill in blank as needed</i>), take it from me:<br /><br />Give up. Surrender. Embrace it. Don’t fight the beach ball. It’s relentless and will not be silenced.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">And should I ever find that first rejection letter again ... I'll pin it above my writing desk and use it as a dartboard.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Write on. </span><br /></span></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-37603512633258144762017-10-18T17:32:00.011-07:002024-03-03T13:17:41.219-08:00#metoo—WWJD?<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Kbiwj0Lt4a8ENbjewhFAVhAQADICboB-PaSmb-jjX64Cs8MuE_q1SeOUAGGx-aGeTcd0AszK6uKcSfD1kvn2VFWVwkRp9GRi7ZDq6ZVnwYM6kNqwZwPzGxVLah6j97j-RyL7TdzypK2HUOGRYKZ100fBaikagYD81AtBwF8VGkG1MAhqobK9Fc5c-Q/s1080/hashwwjdtoo.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Kbiwj0Lt4a8ENbjewhFAVhAQADICboB-PaSmb-jjX64Cs8MuE_q1SeOUAGGx-aGeTcd0AszK6uKcSfD1kvn2VFWVwkRp9GRi7ZDq6ZVnwYM6kNqwZwPzGxVLah6j97j-RyL7TdzypK2HUOGRYKZ100fBaikagYD81AtBwF8VGkG1MAhqobK9Fc5c-Q/s320/hashwwjdtoo.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span><i><span><span>Imagine the original audience for the Sermon on the Mount. Now, picture a furrow-browed, intense young man (sorta like the rich young ruler) debating with Jesus...</span></span></i></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart. If your right eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell.” <span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">~ Jesus of Nazareth (<a href="https://www.blogger.com/%E2%80%9Chttps://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=matthew+5%3A27-29&version=NIV%E2%80%9D" target="new">Matthew 5:27–29</a>)</span></span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;"> <span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Gouging out an eye? To avoid lusting? Dang, Jesus, isn’t that just a little — you know — <i>extreme</i>?</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And Jesus, I’m not trying to tell You how to do Your job — I mean, You being God ’n’ all — but couldn’t You throw in something a little more reasonable?</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I have a few suggestions:</span></span><br />
</span><p></p><ol>
<li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">How about blame the woman for how she’s dressed?</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Or maybe throw in a few words to the effect of: </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“</span></span>Boys will be boys.</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">”</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Just say something — <i>anything</i>, really — that deflects the responsibility from us guys and put the blame ’n’ shame on someone else.</span></span></li>
</ol><p>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">What’s that, Jesus? Yeah, I remember the story of Job — he’s one of our Old Testament heroes! What’s Job got to do with anything?</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“I made a covenant with my eyes not to look lustfully at a young woman.”</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> ~ Job (<a href="https://www.blogger.com/%E2%80%9Chttps://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Job+31%3A1&version=NIV%E2%80%9D" target="new">Job 31:1</a>)</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Is that <i>all</i> Job said, Jesus? Really? Nothing about how women are dressed, or ...</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Look, Jesus, I <i>really</i> don’t think You understand. Yeah, You bet I’m getting frustrated! What else do You expect, when You keep throwing all the responsibility back on us guys?</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Who? Paul the Apostle? Never heard of him — wait, what do You mean by </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“</span></span>spoiler alert?</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">”</span></span> <i>What’s this Paul guy going to say?</i></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“When you follow the desires of your sinful nature, the results are very clear: sexual immorality, impurity, lustful pleasures ... But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and <b>self-control</b> ...</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> Those who belong to Christ Jesus have <b>nailed</b> the passions and desires of their sinful nature to his cross and <b>crucified</b> them there.” </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">~ Paul the Apostle (<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=galatians+5%3A16-25&version=NLT" target="new">Galatian. 5:19–25</a>)</span></span></p><blockquote>
</blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Okay, Jesus, I’ve tried to be patient, but You <i>clearly</i> have an anti-male bias. I’d like to get a second opinion, if You don’t mind.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Ask Lucifer? Great idea — where can I find him?</span></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-6256587016309048202017-09-30T14:46:00.016-07:002023-01-06T13:25:09.599-08:00Happy Hour Library<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuj47kCciSSEYcPyA-Eb0CdsYJ2LhKD_KnWyIsoKWMR6j9NoDzNsGtVrP0vO65SZuwFGn6gkuVx1JamASgguatnIHBZScHtf9ZVYq4DbgKH-pOB7QDCLtwlXlInz_l2oO40HYY9pxtywUI-OrnoR0f5yP_b1pkdnxz5zUXtvXZYhsio8dtVZ9Cjr7dhQ/s288/wine-library.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="288" data-original-width="288" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuj47kCciSSEYcPyA-Eb0CdsYJ2LhKD_KnWyIsoKWMR6j9NoDzNsGtVrP0vO65SZuwFGn6gkuVx1JamASgguatnIHBZScHtf9ZVYq4DbgKH-pOB7QDCLtwlXlInz_l2oO40HYY9pxtywUI-OrnoR0f5yP_b1pkdnxz5zUXtvXZYhsio8dtVZ9Cjr7dhQ/s1600/wine-library.jpg" width="288" /></a></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Once upon a time, there was a young couple named Robby and Wendy. We were part of a larger circle of friends at college, went to classes and concerts together, and often hung out at a local greasy spoon enjoying French fries, “Highway 59 Burgers,” and coffee descended from a questionable bean-ealogy.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">As our friendship grew into a “relationship,” we went on our first fancy date, where we wore fancy clothes and drank the fanciest wine we could afford without bankrupting our meager college funds (Mateus).</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“Make sure you mention the part where I tripped and fell down the steps in my fancy dress, and the restaurant staff were panicking that I might sue,” Wendy says over my shoulder.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Okay, sweetheart, if you insist …</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Another time, in the aforementioned greasy spoon, we sketched multiple designs on paper napkins as we imagined how we could convert a railway caboose into a livable space. (Maybe my bass amp could double as an end table?) The location wasn’t fancy, nor was Mateus involved, but it was fun dreaming together about our future.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">As the years have come and gone, we’ve evolved a few traditions as a couple. For example: as the first one up most mornings, I brew and hand-deliver a cuppa java to my beautiful wife in bed. Note to any husbands reading: there are few wives who won’t appreciate this.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">A more recent invention is what we call Happy Hour Library. We sit on our deck in the evening, sipping wine as we read whatever books have caught our fancy. Occasionally, we read a snippet out loud to each other, whenever we discover a thought-provoking question, an inspiring idea, or a particularly well-crafted paragraph.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">A few weeks ago, Wendy brought home a bottle of Mateus, and Happy Hour Library became a time of reminiscing about our first “fancy date.” We’ve never lived in a converted caboose, but we’ve had a lot of adventures together. None of which we could have predicted — or dreamed — back in the “caboose brainstorming” days. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But now, it’s the “little adventures” I most appreciate: sharing coffee at 6:00 a.m., Happy Hour Library, and Mateus — while not our “go-to” wine of choice — held up surprisingly well, all these years later. </span><br /></span></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-63640732954711708882017-04-17T15:04:00.002-07:002023-01-06T13:24:50.567-08:00Crucible (Messy Revival)<p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaoOEr6Q9tZIoxRfTtcAWd7v29X3bc6DPUeHQtOv4Tbr_w6lSFnyN31409J3v6GHU34nZ1-iXS7-SraJaoY20WdiUED9UUD8eaXu09gnoFoy6lr0z-1bhRC6eOeTvLuDtWtgjq4V6D_2GxoMufZ3mwcKIlVo8DNwNZETo4YDhKTLYTn-3zj6E_ldZYmw/s1080/cruciblegas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaoOEr6Q9tZIoxRfTtcAWd7v29X3bc6DPUeHQtOv4Tbr_w6lSFnyN31409J3v6GHU34nZ1-iXS7-SraJaoY20WdiUED9UUD8eaXu09gnoFoy6lr0z-1bhRC6eOeTvLuDtWtgjq4V6D_2GxoMufZ3mwcKIlVo8DNwNZETo4YDhKTLYTn-3zj6E_ldZYmw/s320/cruciblegas.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“The crucible for silver and the furnace for gold, but the Lord tests the heart (Proverbs 17:3).”</span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Purify my heart, let me be as gold and precious silver.<br />Refiner’s fire – my heart’s one desire is to be holy,<br />Set apart for You, Lord, ready to do Your will.<br />(<i>Refiner’s Fire</i>, by Brian Doerksen)</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The process of refining silver, in the era when the book of Proverbs was written, is an evocative picture of how our hearts are refined. It’s a “made for sermon illustration” metaphor that I really like. A skilled refiner purifies silver by bringing heat to bear on the raw metal. As the heat increases, impurities rise to the surface, and the refiner skims them off. The process is repeated until the desired result is achieved: a clear reflection of the refiner’s face.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The spiritual parallel is stunning – God refining our character until He sees a clear reflection of Jesus in us. Awesome! But as anyone who has experienced the refining process can tell you, when the heat gets turned up, it’s uncomfortable.</span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">(That’s an understatement of, shall we say, “biblical proportions.”)</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">At the same time, achieving the desired result makes the uncomfortable process worth it in the end. “No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it (Hebrews 12:11).”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Whenever we pray for more of the Spirit’s power and presence in our lives, it shouldn’t surprise us when the heat gets turned up and some of our inner <i>schtuff</i> flares up in our face. That’s how it works, after all.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">More of the Spirit’s work = more refining. It’s part of the package. Mountain top moments are exhilarating, but difficult valleys are equally a part of the Spirit’s work in our lives.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Which is why things can get wild and woolly during times of revival. The Holy Spirit is poured out in ways that go beyond “typical” — the “omni” presence of God becomes the “manifest” presence – and there’s a wide range of reactions and maturity among believers.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Sin will be stirred up by the Enemy, trying his darndest to discredit what the Spirit’s doing. And critics of renewal movements delight in pointing this out, as if the presence of sinful activity “proves” that God isn’t involved.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Sin will also be stirred up by the Holy Spirit’s presence, <i>so it can be dealt with</i>. That’s what a good Refiner does.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Revival is always connected to repentance. Whether it’s people coming to faith for the first time, or believers having the low-burning embers of their faith fanned into flame again, repentance unto a holy life is <i>normal</i>.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">There should be nothing shocking when sinful patterns are forced to the surface during times of revival/renewal. That’s how the Refiner’s fire works.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The heat is on.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">If you’re crying out for more of the Spirit, and sin & temptation seem to flare up – don’t rebuke the devil (except where appropriate), and don’t get discouraged. Instead, recognize the Refiner’s hand and co-operate with His purifying work.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The heat is on, but the results will be worth it.</span></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-8412807533862964312017-03-31T16:01:00.002-07:002023-01-06T13:22:20.611-08:00Of Pearls, Swine, & Strawmen<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiRff81Spmt1mhMkO0zdKY7RaXqY3aUq4vHXB8MxlVC-V2cVlPM7A-WPmnbqUbE6WUAGx0jkh0kz5vYLtRRX_ALEbvkk9ndpFGDwUX8eG-L50C7Hqb-nHbVRJKGBpbYqaCRPUhqqP-vSXaHyF1d8IBjDMOQ1cSFcOUzrx3kV5l2GDrTAzF1mOw_AKTsw/s1080/espressostrawman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiRff81Spmt1mhMkO0zdKY7RaXqY3aUq4vHXB8MxlVC-V2cVlPM7A-WPmnbqUbE6WUAGx0jkh0kz5vYLtRRX_ALEbvkk9ndpFGDwUX8eG-L50C7Hqb-nHbVRJKGBpbYqaCRPUhqqP-vSXaHyF1d8IBjDMOQ1cSFcOUzrx3kV5l2GDrTAzF1mOw_AKTsw/s320/espressostrawman.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Elder watched, eyebrows raised, as his young friend aggressively stirred the usual “fixings” into his <i>americano</i>.</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen the Younger so agitated. His own hands were cupped around his mug of coffee—“black, the way God drinks it”—and he waited in silence.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Younger replaced his spoon on the table with an exasperated sigh, the metal utensil evoking a sharp protest on the wooden surface. The Younger paused for a moment, suddenly self-aware of his agitation.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Sorry about that,” he admitted to his life-long friend. “I’m just . . . <i>really</i> frustrated with how things went the other night.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“I’m all ears,” the Elder replied, nodding to acknowledge the other’s apology. “How did the topic come up, if you don’t mind my asking? And what was it about your friends’ comments that impacted you so negatively?”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Younger picked up his spoon, tapping it on the table, spinning it around in his fingers, and tapping the table again with the opposite end. The Elder chose not to point out his friend</span></span><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span>s unconscious action.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Well, you know me and my friends—we love talking about our faith, life, and how the two interact. It’s a lot like the conversations you and I have, at least most of the time. But last night . . .”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He flattened the spoon under his hand, and met the Elder’s concerned gaze. “You’ve heard of the notorious ‘straw man argument,’ I’m sure. It’s become its own meme, almost to the point of being a caricature of itself.”</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Elder nodded in sympathy, a rueful smile quirking at one corner of his mouth. “I’ve had a few run-ins with it, yes. I take it that a straw man was introduced into your conversation last night?”</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Younger shook his head, taking a hearty swig of his <i>americano</i>. “We were talking about the Atonement . . .”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Elder whistled, his eyebrows arching higher. “The Atonement? You and your friends could never be accused of having shallow theological discussions.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Younger shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah, we like the heavy topics, I guess. But as soon as I started talking about my understanding of the Atonement, I got shut down. They said that anyone who believes in substitutionary atonement believes in a God who</span></span><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’s a</span></span> ‘cosmic child-abuser,’ and nobody with any intelligence would worship a ‘monster’ like that . . .</span></span><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Elder sighed, sipping more of his coffee before it cooled. “Let me guess—the vengeful Old Testament God taking out His wrath on His unsuspecting and defenseless Son?”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Younger nodded wordlessly, and the Elder continued. “Well, it wouldn’t be any exaggeration at all to call that terminology the most glaring and manipulative straw man fallacy I’ve ever come across.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He took a longer gulp of his coffee, and set his mug down firmly. “To be blunt . . .” The Elder leaned forward to emphasize his next words.</span></span><br />
</span><blockquote>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">”Using the phrase ‘cosmic child abuse’ is, at best, infantile. And at worst, it reveals an arrogant refusal to engage in the honest, intelligent exchange of ideas.”</span></span></blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Younger finished his drink quietly, listening to his mentor/friend with rapt attention.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Think about it this way,” the Elder kept his voice down despite his obvious passion for the subject at hand. “The most fruitful discussions—or dialogues, or debate—are characterized by both respectful dialogue and <i>listening</i> to each other’s viewpoints, and thoughtful interaction with the strengths and weaknesses of the opposing views. Iron sharpening iron <span><span face="">(<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Proverbs+27%3A17&version=NIV" target="new">Proverbs 27:17</a>)</span></span>.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Elder paused for a moment, adjusting his spectacles. “Such an obvious and calculated straw man as ‘cosmic child abuse’ circumvents any meaningful conversation. It’s actually a very <i>anti</i>-intellectual approach, which has but one goal in mind: to shut down discussion. To <i>prevent</i> thinking.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“And here I just thought it was a bullying tactic,” the Younger joked, his lop-sided grin not very heart-felt.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Elder leaned back, finishing off his coffee in one prolonged swallow. “It certainly is that, no doubt. But even more so: it shows a profound level of hubris—arrogance—to ignore the theological giants of the faith who have wrestled long and hard to put language to our beliefs, by using such a simplistic and offensive caricature.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He sighed, returning his friend’s grin with one of his own. “I could make a comment about </span></span><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">‘</span></span></span></span></span></span>pearls before swine</span></span><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">,</span></span><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span> as Jesus did in Matthew 5:6—and His warning rings true in our time as much as it did in the first century. But I think there’s also a more redemptive approach that we should keep in mind.”</span></span><br />
</span><blockquote>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“</span></span>Ask your friends: what Scriptures led them to their current position on the Atonement? We all understand there</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span>s a certain level of</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">—</span></span>oh, I guess I would call it <i>wrestling</i></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">—</span></span></span></span></i><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">which</span></span></span></span> every theologian has to embrace. And I certainly hope your friends are basing their thoughts on Scripture and not merely on the latest philosophical trends. See if your friends would be willing to put aside their caricatures and invest some time in wrestling through the Scriptures together, as a group, and re-learn the lost art of respectful dialogue.”</span></span></blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Younger held his empty mug aloft in a salute. “Having a respectful conversation? Wrestling through the Scriptures together? I’m all for it. I don’t even care if we all agree on everything, once we’re done. I’d just like to have a real, honest, strawman-free discussion about it!”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Elder laughed quietly, his posture relaxing as a sheepish look crossed his face. “Just don’t tell them I called them ‘infantile’, okay? I really must learn to be more cautious in my choice of words ...”</span></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-46662898599510571132017-02-08T09:24:00.008-08:002023-01-06T13:16:07.611-08:00Non-Confessional Movement<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7q05kzEJOSZpUnEAucpgjwN30q5DsIFmqeX4R5AgWdLgeOqW6UZVPWUWg_yi_LiCPH9mtyA_MFO_-VNzmdv3omKvzWewoVf-gCY18tHzf_r_u19AmtyLtfGIfGQSu2JutEMglTRIxhVhvSFCWXLS3XKvSpKj_Iv0jEjjP9I5J3wC3mFh3S-Ax-yrOMQ/s1080/nondenomtroopers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7q05kzEJOSZpUnEAucpgjwN30q5DsIFmqeX4R5AgWdLgeOqW6UZVPWUWg_yi_LiCPH9mtyA_MFO_-VNzmdv3omKvzWewoVf-gCY18tHzf_r_u19AmtyLtfGIfGQSu2JutEMglTRIxhVhvSFCWXLS3XKvSpKj_Iv0jEjjP9I5J3wC3mFh3S-Ax-yrOMQ/s320/nondenomtroopers.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Watch your life and doctrine closely. Persevere in them, because if you do, you will save both yourself and your hearers.”</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"> <span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face="">(1 Timothy 4:16)</span></span></span></span></span>
</p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Some people don’t like doctrinal statements, viewing them as a tool of oppression and exclusion. They would much rather be “non-confessional.”</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"> <span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">(Meaning: doctrinal agreement is optional, as long as people play nice)</span></span>.</span></span><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Unfortunately, non-confessional movements usually end up looking like the picture above.</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">What makes a doctrinal statement useful is its <i>objectivity</i>. It serves as an impartial standard, a measuring stick, a plumb-line by which all parties can evaluate their own doctrinal health.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There have been times, historically, when churches and movements have changed their minds and/or gradually wandered away from their core beliefs. The Old Testament also candidly records where God’s chosen people did the same thing—but it should be noted that the message of the prophets was to “turn back,” and in church history, terms like revival and renewal were linked to people “returning” to a faith they’d abandoned or allowed to atrophy.</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Throughout church history, statements like the Apostles' Creed, and the Nicene Creed (among others), have served in similar ways, providing a much-needed litmus test so that movements could obey the Scriptural admonition to safeguard the church from doctrinal “alternative facts.”</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For example, St. Paul’s warnings and instructions:</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="text-align: left;">
</p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“I know that after I leave <i>[Ephesus]</i>, savage wolves will come in among you and will not spare the flock. Even from your own number men will arise and distort the truth in order to draw away disciples after them</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span face=""> (Acts 20:29–30)</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">.” <br />
</span></span></p></li></ul><p style="text-align: left;">
</p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“As I urged you when I went into Macedonia, stay there in Ephesus so that you may command certain people not to teach false doctrines any longer </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span face="">(1 Timothy 1:3)</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">.”
</span></span></p></li></ul><p style="text-align: left;">
</p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“For the time will come when people will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span face="">(2 Timothy 4:3)</span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">.” </span></span></p></li></ul><p style="text-align: left;">
</p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A Statement of Faith is vital for straining out doctrinal error, and the New Testament is replete with admonitions to be on guard against false teachings. Paul was not the only one to sound the alarm. Similar warnings were voiced by John <span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">(1 John 4:1)</span></span></span>, Peter <span><span face="">(2 Peter 2:1-3)</span></span>, and Jesus Himself <span><span face="">(Matthew 24:10-11)</span></span>.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When a movement eschews a statement of faith, preferring instead to be non-confessional, they create an ethos where no teaching can be objectively evaluated, and where alternative (doctrinal) facts cannot be challenged.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">However, something far more insidious results from a non-confessional approach, which inspired my choice of picture at the top of this post:</span></span> </p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><blockquote style="text-align: left;"><p>
<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span>A non-confessional movement will always be controlled by the biggest bullies. It is inherently power-based and political in nature.</span></span></span></p></blockquote><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Without an objective standard, the direction of such a movement will rest in the hands of those with the most political power.</span></span></p><ol><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Appeals to Scripture or the history of Christian orthodoxy will fall on deaf ears. Alternative (doctrinal) facts can flourish freely.</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Anyone with a confessional approach can then be effectively ridiculed and silenced, usually by caricatures, shout-downs, and zinger-ology.</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Doctrinal questions and debates are settled by whomever can generate the loudest echo chamber, bolstered by “likes” and retweets.</span></span></li></ol><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">No, thanks. I’ll take the confessional antidote Paul gave to Timothy:</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><blockquote style="text-align: left;"><p>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“In the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who will judge the living and the dead, and in view of his appearing and his kingdom, I give you this charge: Preach the word; be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke and encourage—with great patience and careful instruction </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="">(2 Timothy 4:1–2)</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">.”</span></span></p></blockquote>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-5666208031988119032016-11-30T07:56:00.022-08:002024-03-03T13:04:13.207-08:00Evangelicals, Repent<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgoIb4T81zHt8V5tjdWvq2jyi5flpT1dipd6Nk3dZCG7Ld-iZvdW85xhnzEHQ8XgII1A5GPgYAocGCbOQwooEUIz_R82qJIGsKO6lU5iRQf8-9cXq4rkxuK7XUrMzJuYDi4b4APZjXiXNsS6a-EovdH_XyBybPx-2u_gvF8N5cPr7o6xPY6Kwg4AyVBg/s1080/repent2016.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgoIb4T81zHt8V5tjdWvq2jyi5flpT1dipd6Nk3dZCG7Ld-iZvdW85xhnzEHQ8XgII1A5GPgYAocGCbOQwooEUIz_R82qJIGsKO6lU5iRQf8-9cXq4rkxuK7XUrMzJuYDi4b4APZjXiXNsS6a-EovdH_XyBybPx-2u_gvF8N5cPr7o6xPY6Kwg4AyVBg/s320/repent2016.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">If it hasn’t been obvious before, it should be by now. Evangelicals need to do some serious soul-searching, humble themselves, and <b>repent</b>.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">And no, this isn’t a cheap shot at the president-elect of the country south of Canada. If anything, their POTUS-to-be is a warning, or perhaps a symptom, of a problem that goes back for years. “Bigley Orangelid” is simply the inevitable outcome of sinful decisions made in the past.</span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">In less than two months, a man who has been variously called bully, racist, misogynist, xenophobic, vulgar, crass, manipulative and immoral (plus a few epithets that would make a cockroach blush) will be known by a new nick-name: “Mr. President.”</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">And white evangelical Christians voted in massive numbers for him, and in all likelihood, may have been the deciding factor in the election. </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">But even if “Crooked Hillary” had won, evangelicals would <i>still</i> need to repent. And no, not because of Clinton’s position on abortion.</span></span></p><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">Evangelicals need to repent for something far more insidious.
</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">It</span></span><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">’</span></span>s not just an American problem. In many countries, evangelicals have long been guilty of pursuing political power in the name of advancing the Kingdom of God. From somewhere came the idea that worldly power is necessary, or at least an advantage, for accomplishing God’s purposes.
</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">In contrast, Jesus told the political powers of His day: “My kingdom is not of this world (<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=John+18%3A36&version=NLT" target="new">John 18:36</a>).</span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">”</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">Much has been said regarding the long-reaching negative consequences that befell the Church after Emperor Constantine proclaimed Christianity the official religion as he sought to consolidate his Roman Empire. Many have also noted, throughout church history, the detrimental long-term effects when the church is controlled by the State.
</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">Conversely, what many Christians seem to be pursuing in recent years is a State controlled <i>by the Church</i>. This isn’t surprising, if one has embraced a “Kingdom Now” (Latter Rain/NAR) paradigm, wherein believers think they will usher in the Kingdom and then turn it over to Jesus later. But it’s not just charismatic extremists who need to repent.
</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;">The root goes much further back. Remember the “Moral Majority” movement of the early 1980s? When Fundamentalists decided to use political power to force Christianity — or, at minimum, Judeo-Christian morality — on the masses? And then evangelicals jumped on the Moral Majority bandwagon as well, just in case it might succeed?</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">(Parenthetical question: Why is it so horrifying to think that Sharia Law might be imposed on the populace, but it’s perfectly acceptable for fundamentalist Christians to do exactly the same thing? Asking for a friend.)
</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Evangelicals world-wide need to repent of</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> embracing the seductive and idolatrous lie that the Kingdom of God will be advanced through political power. The pursuit of worldly power has resulted in evangelicals supporting worldly politicians, and becoming worldly themselves in the process. As evangelicals, if the shoe fits, it’s time to repent.</span></span><p></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">All evangelicals, not just white males in America.
</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“My Kingdom is not of this world,” said Jesus, the One we claim to be following, who calls us to be “in the world, but not of the world (<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=john+17%3A14-19&version=NLT" target="new">John 17:14-19</a>).</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">”</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The first disciples had the same problem. We’re faced with the same lessons they had to learn. Check out </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Acts+1%3A6-8&version=NIV" target="new">Acts 1:6-8</a>:</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Then they gathered around him and asked him, “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?” <i>(political power for their people.)</i> He said to them: “It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses <span class="text Acts-1-8" id="en-NIV-26932"><span class="woj">in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.</span></span>” <i>(spiritual power for advancing a different Kingdom.)</i></span></span></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Yes, it’s long past time for evangelical Christians to repent. We serve a different King, and we are called to partner with Him to advance a very different Kingdom.</span></span></p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-25342284792255700972016-09-30T05:35:00.006-07:002023-01-06T13:08:06.253-08:00Awkward Continuationist: Both/And<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibYR2seDJRdqX_gfCTX-o4AAZ7zsqiLiL88VtmUPY4YZeLOjo402E3cp8Pr18d7DN9fT7_a5dr1SKBuqdzQK6EHeMq3pLPnYnzxIH2jgmnX-yaJWsA6At-bdBQHyn5DpwzW5LRHTnuQc3A/s0/awk_dove.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="288" data-original-width="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibYR2seDJRdqX_gfCTX-o4AAZ7zsqiLiL88VtmUPY4YZeLOjo402E3cp8Pr18d7DN9fT7_a5dr1SKBuqdzQK6EHeMq3pLPnYnzxIH2jgmnX-yaJWsA6At-bdBQHyn5DpwzW5LRHTnuQc3A/s0/awk_dove.jpg" /></a></div><p style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Any group of people that spends a lot of time together — athletes, artists, coworkers, volunteers, churches — will develop their unique tidbits of jargon.</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Jargon isn’t a bad thing, as long as you take the time to explain what it means to outsiders. At its best, jargon serves as a sort of “verbal short-hand,” where complex ideas can be quickly communicated without having to go into detail each and every time.</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For example, Canadians nation-wide know the meaning of “double-double” (coffee, two creams, two sugars). It’s helpful jargon, and only becomes a problem if you use it outside of Canada and expect people to understand.</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A classic slogan in the Vineyard is: “Evangelical in theology, charismatic in practice.” We</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> usually define this jargon as, “the best of both worlds: the solid preaching of the evangelicals and the openness to the Spirit of the charismatics.”</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Of course, even though we intended the phrase as a <i>compliment</i> to both groups, it sometimes backfires. </span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Evangelicals: “What do you mean by that? Are you insinuating we <i>don’t</i> have the Spirit?”</span></span> </p><div style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></div><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><p>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Pentecostals and charismatics: “What are you suggesting? That we</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’ve got</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> lousy preaching?”</span></span></p></blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The phrase got me thinking about the “radical middle” between evangelical and charismatic, and specifically, what I appreciate about my conservative evangelical roots. On one hand, it’s pretty basic. But on the other, I</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’m always running into</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> Christians who</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’ve just recently</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> discovered (or searching for) the same things. A few examples:</span><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">1. God loves me. Period.</span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><blockquote style="text-align: left;"><p>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There is nothing I can say or do that will make Jesus love me more.</span></span></p><p>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There is nothing I can say or do that will make Jesus love me less.</span></span></p></blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">2. There is no condemnation.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><blockquote style="text-align: left;"><p>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I’m amazed by the numbers of Christians who walk around feeling condemned. Every generation seems to wrestle with it. I’m thankful to have learned that the story of St. Paul’s struggle with sin in <a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Romans+7%3A15-25&version=NLT" target="new">Romans 7</a> is answered immediately in <a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Romans+8%3A1-5&version=NLT" target="new">Romans 8</a>.</span></span></p></blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">3. God isn</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">t one-dimensional.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><blockquote style="text-align: left;"><p>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">s quite capable of loving us and yet also despising our sin and its effects.</span></span></p><p>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">God can be angry at injustice and yet show mercy to the perps.</span></span></p><p>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He is the Holy King, Lord, God Almighty, and yet Jesus calls us friends.</span></span></p><p>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">God is a righteous Judge, and God is a loving Father.</span></span></p></blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">These are just a few, but I’m grateful to my evangelical upbringing for teaching them to me.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Evangelical” has become a favorite scapegoat for anyone with a bone to pick or an axe to grind. But I</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">d like to suggest that if some believers have never learned that (e.g.) there</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">s no condemnation, the problem isn’t evangelicalism.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">If anything, it might mean some churches <i>haven’t been evangelical enough</i>.</span></span></p> Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-57497969931150894172016-06-23T05:36:00.007-07:002023-01-06T13:07:43.960-08:00Awkward Continuationist: Family Feud<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxWgpRxyjzzIH3PdtrW5tl0RbrnmQZr4ABSjWYBxXDwuqkhtjhKfBOJVvvstwbV1BDK20bmly_ZkhePAOCL7h344YEEP0QqCODqkJZUft_Suvsw4-_CO7prV9xvB2Km-jm2tTd382KsHSX/s0/awk_feud.png" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="288" data-original-width="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxWgpRxyjzzIH3PdtrW5tl0RbrnmQZr4ABSjWYBxXDwuqkhtjhKfBOJVvvstwbV1BDK20bmly_ZkhePAOCL7h344YEEP0QqCODqkJZUft_Suvsw4-_CO7prV9xvB2Km-jm2tTd382KsHSX/s0/awk_feud.png" /></a></div><p>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When you</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">re a continuationist, a bizarre reality you</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’ll</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> wrestle with is that some of your harshest critics are other believers.<span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">You know, your <i>extended spiritual family</i>. And as the saying goes:</span></span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span> “You can pick your friends, but you’re stuck with your relatives.”</span></span><span><span> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And one of our crazy cousins—the unpredictable one you</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’d</span></span> think twice about inviting to the annual family BBQ—is John F. MacArthur. He’s written three (count ’em, <i>three</i>) books attacking all things Pentecostal and charismatic, each one progressively meaner and more volatile.</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The first book was 1978’s <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Charismatics-John-MacArthur/dp/0310284910" target="_blank"><i>The Charismatics</i></a>, which you wouldn’t exactly call <i>complimentary</i>. But at least it closed with the chapter: “What We Can Learn From Charismatics.”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">By the time <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Charismatic-Chaos-John-MacArthur/dp/0310575729" target="_blank"><i>Charismatic Chaos</i></a> was published in 1992—largely a rehash of the first book—the closing chapter was MIA. Apparently, there was nothing to learn from charismatics, after all.</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I read <i>The Charismatics</i> while still in high school, via the three-month installments made available in <i>Moody Monthly</i> magazine. And I purchased a copy (hardcover, even!) of <i>Charismatic Chaos</i> when it first came out. I read it, front to back, several times. My reasons, at the time, were two-fold:</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
</p><ol>
<li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It was the best-selling book of the year in our local Christian bookstore, and I knew I</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span>d better be aware of what Cousin John was saying. Sort of a continuationist application of “always be ready to give a reason <span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">(<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+peter+3%3A15-16&version=NLT" target="new">1 Peter 3:15-16</a>)</span></span></span>.</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">”</span></span> </li>
<li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I thought there might be some helpful critique we continuationists needed to hear.</span></span></li>
</ol><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Boy, was I disappointed with item #2. Multiple misrepresentations, exaggerations, caricatures, and generally sloppy research robbed the book of any redemptive value. Plus, Cousin John</span></span><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’s </span></span></span></span><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">shrill and hysterical tone made it sound like he was cussing out his enemies, not addressing brothers and sisters in Christ.</span></span><br />
</span><blockquote>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Rich Nathan wrote an excellent response to Cousin John’s section on the Vineyard, which you can download for free <a href="https://www.vineyardusa.org/library/position-paper-the-vineyards-response-to-charismatic-chaos/" target="new">here</a>.</span></span></blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span> <span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But, never one to leave well-enough alone, Cousin John did it again with 2013</span></span><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’s</span></span> <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Strange-Fire-Offending-Counterfeit-Worship/dp/1400206413" target="_blank"><i>Strange Fire</i></a>. This time around, I knew better than to waste my meager book budget on it. But through the modern miracle of Amazon’s <i>Look Inside</i> preview, I was able to verify the following quote from the book’s preface:</span></span><br />
</span><blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Charismatics now number more than half a billion worldwide. Yet the gospel that is driving those surging numbers is not the true gospel, and the spirit behind them is not the Holy Spirit. What we are seeing is <i>in reality</i> the explosive growth of a false church, as dangerous as any cult or heresy that has ever assaulted Christianity. The Charismatic Movement was a farce and a scam from the outset; it has not changed into something good.</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“This is the hour for the true church to respond… There must be a collective war against the pervasive abuses on the Spirit of God. This book is a call to join the cause for His honor.”</span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span> <br />
</span></span><div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span face="">(John F. MacArthur, <i>Strange Fire?</i>, page xvii)</span></span></span></div>
</blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Um, yeah. You really want to go there, Cousin John?</span></span><br />
</span><ul>
<li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A false gospel?</span></span> </li>
<li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As dangerous as any cult or heresy?</span></span> </li>
<li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It’s time to declare war on continuationists?</span></span></li>
</ul><p>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I think Cousin John is conflating “gospel” with “secondary teachings.” For example: Believing in the gift of tongues (or not) has absolutely zero effect on the doctrine of salvation by grace through faith in Jesus. Believing God still heals and performs miracles today (or not) has no impact on Jesus being the Way, the Truth, and the Life and the only way to the Father <span><span face="">(<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=John+14%3A6&version=NLT" target="new">John 14:6</a>)</span></span>. You’d be hard-pressed to find any difference in the gospel being preached by MacArthur and the overwhelming majority of continuationists.</span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Cousin John has gone beyond the bare facts of the gospel and added <i>cessationism</i> to the mix. The irony is glaring: Cousin John</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">s upset at <i>some</i> secondary doctrines in the continationist camp (e.g., Word Faith, NAR), and yet his secondary doctrine of cessationism is just as biblically indefensible (you could call it a false teaching without exaggerating).</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Cousin John is rightly concerned about the wacky secondary teachings in certain continuationist circles. I wouldn’t have taken the time and <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">effort to</span> writ<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">e</span> <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Post-Charismatic-2-0-Rekindle-Smoldering-Wick/dp/0988130475" target="new">Post-Charismatic</a></i> </span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span face="">(and the resulting flak)</span></span></span> if I didn’t agree. The bathwater needs cleaning. But that’s a far cry from words like <i>false gospel</i>, <i>cult</i>, <i>heresy</i>, or <i>war</i>.</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’s</span></span> tempting to write off Cousin John as a grumpy, axe-grinding curmudgeon. But then I remember something John Wimber, founder of the Vineyard movement, once said:</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
</p><blockquote>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Your brother is never your enemy, even when he acts like it.”</span></span></blockquote><p>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So, Cousin John, we may never have a BBQ together this side of eternity, and it would appear a snowball in hell has a greater chance of survival than you <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">and</span> I agreeing on everything. But despite our differences, and our disagreements, you are my brother.</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Yes, that’s right. You’re stuck with me.</span></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-68320666735590792042016-05-25T16:18:00.027-07:002023-01-06T13:07:17.051-08:00What Happens on the Road, Stays on the Road<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiipgol_mvPT9udhEBmrwGlY9Dm9nt_KR38WNJY6sZl5nZcV2jSBIts0lxeDu8yqFbcXKcBMGYj3cMDpUUL_4RuljB2yzOxJ71MWWDEOzldkU6HnlJbjhPdYSa0l0oeGayVjOFuejdy82rwBqRonReLoRXBp3hUZF9b2-msOxY_zi5tGRmXuL14oL0TUw/s1080/oldfeetguysrocknakusp.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiipgol_mvPT9udhEBmrwGlY9Dm9nt_KR38WNJY6sZl5nZcV2jSBIts0lxeDu8yqFbcXKcBMGYj3cMDpUUL_4RuljB2yzOxJ71MWWDEOzldkU6HnlJbjhPdYSa0l0oeGayVjOFuejdy82rwBqRonReLoRXBp3hUZF9b2-msOxY_zi5tGRmXuL14oL0TUw/s320/oldfeetguysrocknakusp.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Nothing says “you’re in a band” louder than the proverbial road trip. This past weekend, the five members of <i>Feet First</i> piled into our respective gear-laden vehicles, and drove to the town of Nakusp, in British Columbia’s Kootenay Mountains, for a wild and woolly weekend of rock ’n’ roll and assorted shenanigans.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Well, not exactly …</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Yes, we drove to Nakusp and played two packed-out gigs at the Leland Hotel, British Columbia’s longest-running pub – since 1892. The road trip was awesome all by itself. We live in a province of jaw-dropping natural beauty.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">And yes, the shows <b>rocked</b> – people were calling their friends during our first set and the word spread. Our second show turned into a four-hour onstage marathon to a boisterously enthusiastic (and decidedly intoxicated) audience.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">But keep in mind … this is a <i>middle-aged</i> classic rock band.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">No, those weren’t “groupies” in the front row – our wives came along for the weekend. We’ve all been married 30+ years.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Overheard at supper on Saturday: “Hey, we don’t hit the stage for another three hours. We could squeeze a nap in!”</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Yes, there were drugs involved. All prescribed by our family physicians.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Spinal Tap moment: Dave, our lead guitarist, got lost in the hotel while trying to find the bar, and we were forced to start the show without him. His wife tracked him down and escorted him, sheepishly toting his Fender Strat, to the stage during our third song. The crowd cheered for him.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">There were lots of jokes about “living the rock ’n’ roll dream” throughout the weekend. It’s a treat to be in a band that takes their music seriously and themselves lightly.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">But seriously, folks …</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">A weekend away with Wendy, in the Kootenay mountains, playing in a band of this calibre, relaxing with bandmates and wives in a local coffeeshop, and with a stunning view of Arrow Lake just outside Wendy’s and my hotel window … </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Wow. I’ve a lot to be grateful for.</span></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-5088881298923520532016-05-02T05:48:00.005-07:002023-01-06T13:06:53.365-08:00Awkward Continuationist: Revival ≠ Circus<p style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_1Hqia3rwBqH_2wPv82yesO86nm16HrP1ieSC3SGslHXId5avZF4NrwpG2HC5NpVkUXxIwPJlSOWg35DQocvkSE8Zj6nmnQO-d3nFHyCrtx-rDS-QHOqadtnYe799iemx9CVlcrqa_FHi3v7fQ5SFr6SGc6vFOxylUJQKeG-ZJ2O5AItFiHXPTsvgtA/s1080/cirrevawk.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_1Hqia3rwBqH_2wPv82yesO86nm16HrP1ieSC3SGslHXId5avZF4NrwpG2HC5NpVkUXxIwPJlSOWg35DQocvkSE8Zj6nmnQO-d3nFHyCrtx-rDS-QHOqadtnYe799iemx9CVlcrqa_FHi3v7fQ5SFr6SGc6vFOxylUJQKeG-ZJ2O5AItFiHXPTsvgtA/s320/cirrevawk.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></div><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Revival. Now, <i>there’s</i> a word pre-loaded with all manner of mental images, assumptions, and expectations.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Objectively speaking, to be “revived” means that what was once alive, and then died, has been brought to life again. A drowning victim, for example, revived after a lifeguard’s intervention.</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Or when a patient’s heart stops on the operating table, followed by the terse command: “Clear!” Kah-CHUNK! Beep, beep, beep ... “We’ve got a pulse.”</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In popular usage, <i>revive</i> can also refer to any number of things.</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCSN5X5QIdGZV-cKnZJH5bgoRG54hoFXxoeiX3rj9I6AQoBV1jVQnIjOfB7DFPqBbP0LnUERZTOi4jr_JEdUcCTptpAn9Cr9xmmhcdCOaqysL6r9zXS_bpLpdIw4CrXCryqUSPNhauk4kd/s1600/revive.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="151" data-original-width="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCSN5X5QIdGZV-cKnZJH5bgoRG54hoFXxoeiX3rj9I6AQoBV1jVQnIjOfB7DFPqBbP0LnUERZTOi4jr_JEdUcCTptpAn9Cr9xmmhcdCOaqysL6r9zXS_bpLpdIw4CrXCryqUSPNhauk4kd/s1600/revive.jpg" /></a></p></div>
<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span>A Shakespearean play can be revived following years of non-performance. An interest in a personal hobby can be revived once the demands of our schedules have become better balanced.</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>
</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>
<span><span>Among Christians, “revival” can refer to anything ranging from a pre-planned series of meetings with celebrity evangelists, to a sovereign and unexpected move of the Holy Spirit.</span></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>
</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span> <span><span>But even in these cases, to be revived presupposes that you were once alive, but later became spiritually dull, dismissive, or embraced deliberate denial. Revival and evangelism aren</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span>t the same. When people first become Christians, they</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span>re not brought <i>back</i> to life; they</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span>re entering spiritual life for the first time <span><span face="">(<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Ephesians+2%3A1-6&version=NLT" target="new">Ephesians 2:1-6</a>)</span></span>.</span></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>
</span></span></p><blockquote style="text-align: left;"><p>
<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span>Revival is for believers.</span></span></span></span></p></blockquote><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>
<span><span>You see it in the Old Testament, when the Israelites – God’s chosen people – have a collective wake-up call over their spiritually destitute state. They respond by renewing their commitment to the Covenant with their heavenly Father. It was typically a time of sombre reflection, repentance, and “coming back.”</span></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>
</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span> <span><span>Examples include Nehemiah reading the Covenant to the people (who apparently hadn’t heard it in a long, long time); they responded with tears and repentance <span><span face="">(<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Nehemiah+8%3A1-12&version=NLT" target="new">Nehemiah 8:1-12</a>)</span></span>. Likewise, when King Josiah heard the Book of the Covenant for the first time, he responded with deep repentance and “came back,” and led the whole nation in corporate repentance as well <span><span face="">(<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=2+Kings+22%2C+23%3A1-25&version=NLT" target="new">2 Kings 22, 23:1-25</a>)</span></span>.</span></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>
</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span> <span><span>The message of the OT prophets could also be summed up as calling people to “come back” (repent) and follow God with all of their hearts.</span></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>
</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span> <span><span>Even Jesus’ last words in the New Testament – the letters to the seven churches in Revelation– echo this same sense of “turn back” <span><span face="">(<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Revelation+2%2C+3&version=NLT" target="new">Revelation 2 & 3</a>)</span></span>.</span></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>
</span></span></p><blockquote style="text-align: left;"><p>
<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span>Revival has always had a connection to repentance (turning back) and following God wholeheartedly.</span></span></span></p></blockquote><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>
<span><span>In the 21st century, however, we</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’ve</span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span> made revival look more like a three-ring circus than a genuine move of the Spirit. As soon as anyone gets a whiff that God is stirring people, it</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span>s only a matter of time before the Traveling Revival Roadshow arrives.</span></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>
</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span> <span><span>And – sadly but inevitably – celebrity leaders attach themselves to this latest “move,” CD’s are recorded, video DVD’s are packaged, claims of miracles and healings are exaggerated (or invented), anyone who exercises discernment is buried alive under a deluge of charis-slogans, and eventually something causes it all to fall apart (again).</span></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>
</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>
<span><span>And then people divide into two groups: (a) the disillusioned who give up, and (b) the die-hards who will just wait for the next <s>circus sideshow</s> anointed event, and do it all over again.<a href="http://www.robbymcalpine.com/2008/05/bam-thunk.html" target="new"><br /></a></span></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>
</span></span></p><blockquote style="text-align: left;"><p>
<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span>I</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span><span>m praying for a Holy Spirit revival. We desperately need the Real Thing, not</span> another three-ring charismania circus.</span></span></span></p></blockquote><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>
<span><span>We need – I need – a Holy Spirit-inspired revival that rocks our world and leads us back to Jesus.</span></span></span></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-16114033654481874992016-03-06T06:07:00.008-08:002023-01-06T13:06:14.098-08:00Awkward Continuationist<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcp1uD4MDfTL59pLyD_pO_1T1EPNxMV7InKwq0KUknH88-AtWtoIPrAKZeHuAUJUK3e11bhEHimFW8FMyuLgj1ZPhNHC3Y7B5WvPnq0b-SWrkgjVgnqVTHXFEr-YqbiaBoo96oG7nqtDoDB_H0jWhT_M9sUB-lrBKV3b3WVCRe5pgyQQ5Izjgff8NGJg/s397/awkcontworshipfest.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="397" data-original-width="378" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcp1uD4MDfTL59pLyD_pO_1T1EPNxMV7InKwq0KUknH88-AtWtoIPrAKZeHuAUJUK3e11bhEHimFW8FMyuLgj1ZPhNHC3Y7B5WvPnq0b-SWrkgjVgnqVTHXFEr-YqbiaBoo96oG7nqtDoDB_H0jWhT_M9sUB-lrBKV3b3WVCRe5pgyQQ5Izjgff8NGJg/s320/awkcontworshipfest.jpg" width="305" /></a></div></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span>I was there when this album was recorded, oh-so-many years ago. It wasn’t the first time I’d been to something “Vineyard,” but it was the first extended (four day) time of enjoying worship and workshops.</span></span></span></span></p></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>
</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>
<span>It was a high water mark in my spiritual journey up to that point. And it was also directly connected to getting fired by my church shortly after. But that’s a story best left in the past, where it belongs.</span></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>
</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span>Ironically, my termination confirmed a corollary to something John Wimber had written a few years earlier:</span></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>
</span></span></span></p><blockquote style="text-align: left;"><p>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span>“</span><span>Many [people] were not offended by the <i>theory</i> of divine healing; it was the <i>practice</i> of healing prayer that offended them </span><span face="">(Power Healing, pg 49, emphasis in original)</span></span></span><span><span><span>.”</span></span></span></span></span></p></blockquote><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>
</span></span></span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><p>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span>The corollary, in this case, was the difference between <i>believing</i> the gifts of the Spirit are available today (which they did), and the <i>practice</i> of them (which they rejected). Long story short: attending the Worship Festival will always be a fond memory in my spiritual life.</span><span> </span></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span>When Wendy and I were dating/engaged, we attended a charismatic church near our Bible college. The preaching made us cringe at times (too much out-of-context proof-texting), but we enjoyed the worship and our newfound friends’ joyful zeal. We spent hours with them in local coffeeshops and pizzerias, discussing what we loved about the worship and debating the sermon content.</span></span></span></span></p></div><div style="text-align: left;"><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span>And at some point, Wendy and I gave voice to The Dream: “Wouldn’t it be awesome if there was a church with the evangelicals’ exegetical teaching <i>and</i> an openness to the <i>charismata</i> of the Spirit?”</span></span></span></span></p></div><p style="text-align: left;">
</p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span>Required reading at our Bible college included George Mallone</span><span><span>’</span>s <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Furnace-renewal-vision-George-Mallone/dp/0877846057/" target="_blank">Furnace of Renewal</a></i> and <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Those-Controversial-Gifts-Prophecy-Interpretation/dp/0877848238/" target="_blank">Those Controversial Gifts</a></i>, as well as Michael Green’s <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Corinth-Love-Troubled-Relevance-Christians/dp/084993110X/" target="_blank">To Corinth, With Love</a></i> and <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Believe-Holy-Spirit-Michael-Green/dp/0802827675/" target="_blank"><i>I Believe in the Holy Spirit</i></a>.</span>
<span>Mallone and Green’s writings gave us hope that it was
possible to be evangelical in belief and charismatic in practice, without
compromising sound theology or quenching the Spirit.</span></span>
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</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span>So in retrospect, the Worship Festival hosted by the Langley Vineyard was just another step in a journey that had begun years earlier.</span></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span>Continuationist gets “awkward” because the radical middle – evangelical + charismatic – is a hard balance to find, and harder still to maintain. And 100% worth pursuing.</span></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span>So, call me an “awkward continuationist.” All of the <i>charismata </i>are alive and well and needed today — and theology and sound doctrine matters, big time.</span></span></span></span><br /></p><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-72631932212140712162016-02-23T12:25:00.007-08:002023-02-02T13:36:33.160-08:00What's In A Name?<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxbZi660UddEwSFWb6MRVmnR1DZ6ohHfYXrFwjMnoWlTANR_M2iXtnD5ZwxBzIPg0J7r_DrG75Nua_9i5GkGT3akBOjuWJRYgG7W4HsopkMX5xgv0etc_xKK42w9kgOrVXS3sQvDl4PkDX/s1600/evanwheel.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="493" data-original-width="504" height="391" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxbZi660UddEwSFWb6MRVmnR1DZ6ohHfYXrFwjMnoWlTANR_M2iXtnD5ZwxBzIPg0J7r_DrG75Nua_9i5GkGT3akBOjuWJRYgG7W4HsopkMX5xgv0etc_xKK42w9kgOrVXS3sQvDl4PkDX/w400-h391/evanwheel.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><center>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">image credit: <a href="https://credohouse.org/blog/fundamentalists-liberals-and-evangelicals-charted" target="_blank">CredoHouse</a></span></i></span></span></center></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">The word “</span><span style="font-size: medium;">evangelical”</span><span style="font-size: medium;"> seems to have been co-opted and caricatured to the point where it</span></span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span>’</span></span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span>s become meaningless, if not outright detrimental. My compadres at Think Theology</span></span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span> and I meet monthly via Zoom, and we</span></span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span>’ve </span></span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span>had an ongoing debate over it</span></span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span>’s</span></span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span> continued usefulness.</span></span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span>Doctrinal tongue planted firmly in cheek, one of us wondered aloud, “Can ‘evangelical’ be saved?”<br /></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">Perhaps it</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">s time – we</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"> sighed in weary resignation – </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">to dump the term altogether. It</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">s been rendered obsolete. Irredeemable. Beyond hope. Deep-six that sucker. Ghost the term.</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>I chafe at the idea that media caricatures and post-evangelical podcasters can get away with misrepresenting and vilifying evangelicals. I</span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span> get far <i>more</i> upset when some of our evangelical kin – it</span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>s a big tent containing a lot of denominational groupings and sub-groupings – says or does stupid stuff in the name of evangelicalism.</span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>(Gah! You</span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>re not helping!)</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>And therein lies one of our biggest challenges: recognizing the difference between evangelicalism as a theological framework versus evangelicalism as a cultural subset that appears – frankly – more like old-fashioned Fightin' Fundies.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">So, at it</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">s theological core, just what <i>is </i>evangelicalism? <br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">The graphic pictured above is a good summary. I like providing solid explanations in a visual arts medium. At the same time, it</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span>s full of a lot of insider-jargon that would take time to unpack.<br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">A more basic introduction: start with the</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"> four key descriptors of evangelicalism as compiled by David Bebbington, in what</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">s become known as the Bebbington Quadrilateral</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">There</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’s a</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"> range of opinion and nuances under each of these four items, but as a broad description, it works:</span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p style="text-align: left;">
</p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">Biblicism: a high regard for and obedience to the Bible as the ultimate authority</span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">Crucicentrism: a stress on the sacrifice of Jesus Christ on the cross making salvation possible</span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">Conversionism: the belief that each person must choose to follow Jesus (oldskewl: </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“</span></span>born again</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">”</span></span>)</span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">Activism: the gospel is a </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“</span></span>marketplace faith</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">”</span></span> and societal impact is the fruit (missions, ministry among the poor and marginalized)</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">Put into your own words as much as possible; no need</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"> to sound like an encyclopedial parrot</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">. For starters, you don</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span>t have to call it a quadrilateral or provide a biographical sketch of David Bebbington.</span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><p>
</p><p>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">Just sum up Bebbington</span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span><span>’s</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"> Quad in your own personal-speak:</span></p><p>
</p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">The Bible is a Big Deal. When its teachings and my life don</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span>t match up, guess who needs to change?</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">Jesus was crucified so we can have life. Yes, He loves us so much that He voluntarily went to that extreme.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>Nobody is “</span><span>born</span><span><span><span>”</span></span> a Christian. You have to make a choice to surrender to Jesus. And keep surrendering </span><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">(aka “discipleship”)</span><span>.</span><span> </span></span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">Faith in Jesus is a private decision that is expressed in the public square. By serving, not by being obnoxious.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span>However you decide to put it into words, I think it</span><span><span><span>’</span></span>s time for those of us who are </span><span>evangelical</span><span> to stop playing possum when people misrepresent who we are and what we believe.</span></span></p><p>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">So when you hear someone make a comment about </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“</span></span>typical evangelicals,</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">”</span></span> and you suspect they don</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">’</span></span>t know what the term means, why not invite them into a conversation about it? Offer to pay for their coffee.</span></p></div><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><blockquote style="text-align: left;"><p>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span>“</span></span>Instead, you must worship Christ as Lord of your life. And if someone asks about your hope as a believer, always be ready to explain it. But do this in a gentle and respectful way. Keep your conscience clear </span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif">(1 Peter 3:15 NLT)</span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>.</span><span><span>”</span></span> </span></span></p></blockquote><h2 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Hindsight is 20/20 Update (2023)<br /></span></span></h2><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Upon further reflection, I had an epiphany of sorts.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Don’t bother defending “evangelical” – just share your version of the Quad to explain what you believe. No label to defend. No emotionally-charged caricature to diffuse.<br /></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">When Jesus sent His disciples out to share the good news of the Kingdom, He gave them an admonition that applies perfectly to us today.</span></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“Look, I am sending you out as sheep among wolves. So be as shrewd as snakes and harmless as doves (Matthew 10:16 NLT).”</span></span><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5307654453234944478.post-73902138354167266322016-01-30T17:00:00.006-08:002023-01-06T13:05:15.523-08:00Reclaiming the Co-opted Label<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRwtm979dBWLOG9T_IJsXSvPRcmABCnp48pDVabviu_DMowwoL6oDYdkOT0ic2y5INXtf496OjXh1AYDUXOo8TTHex4lvYY9pjB8y-sVozYXQPqDGBnBLpCXhh0UK7QxqCyScFITncV1ibKyHCyyD3q85dx6EL4xo7P8QTiNSATGys0FT9C2GtsjxUyw/s288/fundies_door.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="288" data-original-width="229" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRwtm979dBWLOG9T_IJsXSvPRcmABCnp48pDVabviu_DMowwoL6oDYdkOT0ic2y5INXtf496OjXh1AYDUXOo8TTHex4lvYY9pjB8y-sVozYXQPqDGBnBLpCXhh0UK7QxqCyScFITncV1ibKyHCyyD3q85dx6EL4xo7P8QTiNSATGys0FT9C2GtsjxUyw/s1600/fundies_door.jpg" width="229" /></a></div></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></span><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Historically, fundamentalism was a theological position; only gradually did the movement come to signify a mood and disposition as well. In its early [years], leadership reflected ballast, and less of bombast and battle ...</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span> </span></span></span></span></blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span></span></span></span></span><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span>“If [liberalism] stands discredited as a perversion of the scriptural theology, certainly fundamentalism in this contemporary expression stands discredited as a perversion of the Biblical spirit.” (Carl F.H. Henry, </span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><i>Christianity Today</i></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span>, 1957)</span> </span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>The above quote was originally published, </span><span>almost 60 years ago</span><span>, in an article delineating the differences between Evangelicalism and Fundamentalism. Both groups shared some key beliefs – </span><span>primarily the need for conversion by faith in Jesus – </span><span>but there are significant <i>cultural</i> differences. </span><span><span><span>“</span></span>Fightin</span><span><span><span>’</span></span> Fundies</span><span><span><span>”</span></span> railed against liberals, culture in general, and each other, while evangelicals were firm in their theological beliefs but more culture-neutral.</span></span></span></p></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">
</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>
</span> <span>My friends and I at Think Theology are having an ongoing and spirited debate over whether or not the label <i>evangelical</i> can be rescued from the caricatures and misrepresentations circulating mass and social media of late. I</span><span><span><span>’</span></span>ve been an advocate for keeping the term, but after watching the presidential spectacle south of the 49th parallel (USofA), I</span><span><span><span>’</span></span></span><span>m less optimistic.</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">
</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">
<span>There used to be a recognizable difference between fundamentalists and conservative evangelicals, as recently as the 1980s and 1990s. Today</span><span><span><span> – </span></span>somehow</span><span><span><span> – fightin</span></span></span><span><span><span>’ </span></span></span><span>fundies have been conflated with evangelicals, and right-wing extremism</span><span> is now labelled evangelical.</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>The Wittenburg Door issue (pictured above) poked fun at Liberty University and Jerry Falwell, its founder. They also included a satirical application form for <i>Legalism Bible College</i>. The Door (and their readers) knew what a fundamentalist was. They also knew evangelicalism wasn</span><span><span><span>’</span></span></span><span>t the same thing.</span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> </span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>Yet recently, Jerry Falwell Jr. and fundamentalist Liberty University have been held forth by the media as a representative example of evangelicalism.</span><span> Somebody erased the distinction and lumped all of us under one handy label.</span><span> </span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>Even some of the pejorative phrases that people love to employ online – </span><span>e.g, </span><span><span><span>“</span></span>bible-thumping</span><span><span>” </span></span><span>– which one would normally associate with fundamentalism, are now applied to evangelicalism as if they were one and the same.</span><span> </span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>It</span><span><span><span>’</span></span></span><span>s difficult to redeem a word when its meaning has been co-opted and brought into disrepute.</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>"Charismatic" is another term suffering a similar fate. An example: I was recently invited to lead worship at an event dedicated to the promotion of theological education. I was asked, and a Bible college and seminary graduate, to share a brief testimonial about the value of higher theological education.</span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> </span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>Everything went well, from my perspective. As the meeting adjourned, the guest speaker – seminary president from my alma mater – shook my hand and thanked me. He was all smiles and friendliness.</span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> Until that fateful moment when I handed him copies of <a href="http://www.robbymcalpine.com/p/robbys-books.html" target="_blank">The Genesis Cafe</a> </span><span><span face="">(eighteen months' worth of research and writing)</span></span><span> and <a href="http://www.robbymcalpine.com/p/robbys-books.html" target="_blank">Post-Charismatic</a> </span><span><span face="">(two years in the making)</span></span><span>, while saying something to the effect of I thought he might be interested in one of his former student</span><span><span><span>’</span></span></span><span>s theological writings.</span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> </span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>I</span><span><span><span>’</span></span>ll never forget his reaction.</span><span> Smile frozen in place, he stopped shaking my hand. </span><span><span><span>“</span></span>So, you would consider yourself ... <i>charismatic</i>, then?</span><span><span>”</span> </span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>I told him I</span><span> prefer </span><span><span><span>“</span></span>continuationist</span><span><span><span>,”</span></span> and <i>Post-Charismatic</i> would explain what I meant and why I thought it was important. Based on his reaction, I have my doubts that </span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> he read either book. I</span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span><span>’</span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>d been labelled, categorized, and deep-sixed before the words escaped his lips</span><span>.</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>
</span> <span>I</span><span><span><span><span>’ll</span></span></span> admit continuationist<i> </i>is an awkward term</span><span><span><span>. I</span></span></span><span><span><span>t</span></span></span>s unfamiliar to many and may take some time to catch on. At the very least, it<span><span><span><span>’</span></span></span></span>s a potential way of<span> explaining – </span><span>positively – </span><span>what I believe about the <i>charismata</i></span>, <span><span><span>as</span></span></span><span><span><span> an alternative to the emotional and theological baggage associated with “charismatic.”</span></span></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">
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</span> <span>But the term/label “evangelical” ... What to do, what to do?</span></span></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com