conjectural navel gazing; jesus in lint form

acceptance and the spirit

Lately, I have been revisiting an old prayer book I used to live in. Celtic Daily Prayer is one of the Northumbria community publications. This is not Iona's Gray Goose stuff. Though, that's great, too. This is another group. The CDP has a daily lectionary and additional readings. Sometimes the additional readings are from ancient sources. Today it's from a more recent popular spiritual work, The Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. I wanted to share a good chunk of it with you.

Perhaps middle age is, or should be, a period of shedding shells: the shell of ambition, the shell of material accumulations and possessions, the shells of the ego. Perhaps one can shed, at this stage of life one's pride, one's false ambition, one's mask, one's armour. Was that armour not put on to protect one from the competitive world? If one ceases to compete, does one need it? Perhaps one can at last in middle age, if not earlier, be completely oneself; and what a liberation that would be!

It's partnered with this snippet of Psalm 39.

You have made my days a few handbreadths,
and my lifetime is as nothing in your sight.
Surely everyone stands as a mere breath.

Surely everyone goes about like a shadow.
Surely for nothing they are in turmoil;
they heap up, and do not know who will gather.

“And now, O Lord, what do I wait for? My hope is in you.

Do you struggle with these things? I wonder if many of us agree with Lindberg's premise in the first place. Maybe you honor competition as a virtue to be embraced throughout life, a constant good that brings progress to fruition and empowers invention. We honor competition in our culture. The idea of shedding it's comfortable anxiety may not appeal to many, may simply not make sense to many. She continues.

We have so little faith in the ebb and flow of life, of love, of relationships. We leap at the flow of the tide and resist in terror its ebb. We are afraid it will never return. We insist on permanence, on duration, on continuity; when the only continuity possible, in life as in love, is in growth, in fluidity - in freedom in the sense that dancers are free, barely touching as they pass, but partners in the same pattern. The only real security is not in owning or possessing, not in demanding or expecting, not in hoping even. Security in a relationship lies not neither in looking back to what it was in nostalgia, nor forward to what it might be in dread or anticipation, but living in the present relationship and accepting it as it is now.

Acceptance is its own burden. It's can be harsh and relentless. And it can liberate us. Knowing one's internal and external "geography" can be a font of wisdom. This is all something to chew on as I go off to an ASL class this morning. It's my first...an unanticipated turn in my life. Acceptance is lovely this morning. On another morning...

Peace and all good things to you.

tuckered

So...Here's the to-do list for the next 36+ hours.

1. dig up hostas for church garden
2. 10am ASL class
3. buy the pentecost pinata
4. fill said pinata with red candy
5. sermonate

Yeah. That's more than enough. I didn't get enough done today. I pooped out at 2pm.

pentecost musings

Yesterday I spent the vast majority of my time on the couch trying not to be sick...to no avail. I wanted to go to the church last night for a great concert. The Hoosier Brass Quintet was in town and they are tremendous. I love classical brass. Alas, it was not to be. I managed to nap through much of the Harry Potter compendium and play on Facebook. That's about all. Oh, there was this little bit of inspiration for Sunday's sermon.

The language of Peace is not a single tongue, but the collective voices of God's people proclaiming the peace-making Spirit of The LORD.

It's Pentecost Sunday and we'll break open the Pentecost Pinata and sing "Sweet Holy Spirit." We'll speak of Peace and God's Justice for all. That's the plan at least.

Today I am somewhat better, though still out of it a little. I have a meeting in the city at 11am to gather some original art for the church. It should be a good meeting. I'm excited about it. More to come on that at a later date. Keep your eyes peeled.

smashminton footage

leakyfloo

What's that? Where am I?" These were my first thoughts this morning. I awoke disconnected from my already thin grasp on reality. It took me a bit to get my bearings and go downstairs to feed the cats and make the coffee. Fortunately, both morning missions have been accomplished without incident and I am ready to face the day...well, almost. You see, I am coming down with something.

Two of my friends went to a Harry Potter convention, Leakycon. They returned home bearing the dreaded "leakyfloo." One of these friends is my church administrator. So, two things obviously need to happen now. First, I need to fire her. Second, I need to organize a book burning so that no one ever contracts a Potter-based virus again.

Mercy, thy name is zicam.

my old boss on "uncharities"

professional or professed

It has been a while since I woke up thinking about someone else's blog post, but Chuck Warnock (Confessions of a Small Church Pastor) posted on clergy pay and it has my wheels spinning. It is a well thought out post about smaller churches being burdened by having to come up with a salary for clergy. He suggests that we might need to allow some of churches to "support" clergy instead of paying them. It's a nuance that bears some attention.

The question of the 21st century for pastors cannot be, “Where can I find a church job to support me?” Rather, the question is, “How can I find multiple sources of support to undergird the ministry to which God has called me?”

His is not a new argument, but it is timely. Personally, I go back and forth.

When I was younger, I remember my step-mother's father, a Baptist minister, talking about wanting to buy a house as a pastor in order to have some freedom from the congregation, some privacy, and some economic security that was not tied to the congregation directly. One might rightly say that his generation in American Christianity fought for that right...And I think it's a good thing. Yet, we may have lost something in the process.

I don't know if these days ever existed, but we clergy hear stories of little old ladies baking pies, and sewing circles making clothes for the pastor's kids, or (in my grandfather's case) the church buying the pastor a new car. Supporting the pastor in these ways made up for the fact that some congregations could not pay a competitive wage. They found other ways to support the pastor. A parsonage, a membership to a local YMCA or club, etc...

The place where I think Chuck is pushing a little hard is that a salary is a form of support. I think we need to name that clearly. The thing he's getting at is whether or not a congregation understands that it's supporting a clergy person or if they are paying someone the fair market value for their trade. These are, I believe, two different attitudes, and he's right to underscore that. Are we professionals or are we professed?

Now, I am not sure there is a single answer to that question. Read his blog. He runs through a variety of paradigms of how this was done in the past. And I think a variety of paradigms is what is needed now. There are churches who can support a clergy person with a house, a car, and a salary. Some smaller places cannot. The question still needs to be asked again and again. What is a fair or reasonable expectation for the clergy person as they seek a pulpit/altar to serve?

There are metrics for clergy pay. In my tradition I have heard that the pastor should be making what a local school principal or teacher (varies) might make. Some say that if ten people tithe ten percent of their own salaries to pay the clergy, then that "average" would likely serve. But there are places where the metric fails or is simply too burdensome.

The days of most new clergy taking that $20,000 a year job right out of school are likely over. Too many graduate with $60,000 of seminary debt. Not all do, but many do, and it means that they have to search for a church position that can pay them enough to cover their loans. So competition is tight for a few jobs while other pulpits stand empty.

Chuck points out an important issue facing many churches and offers some good solutions, but the problem is larger than his post suggests. Supporting clergy begins long before they take a position. It begins when someone states a sense of calling to the ministry. How do we nurture that call? How do we, or can we, send people off to seminary knowing that they will graduate with five figure (or higher) school debt, and expect them to serve a poorer congregation?

Chuck's right in looking back to times when church was not so tied to the local culture. The system that my grandfather enjoyed is not available to all anymore (if it ever was). It is not a failure on the part of a congregation to not be able to pay for full-time clergy. I think his example of Gordon Atkinson is perfect. Good church. Good pastor. Part-time employment. It's not a failure. It's simply wise fiscal discipline and can become nurturing and creative for all.

I think this is a huge topic and needs a lot of care and thought. I'll keep mulling it over. Profession, professed, pay, support, creativity, failure...Thanks, Chuck. I hope I get some work done today, too. Heh.

early in the week for sermonating

And when the day of Pentecost was fully come, they were all with one accord in one place.”
-The Book of Acts

There's more than one sermon wrapped up in the scripture assigned for this coming Sunday, so I need to start mulling it through early. I actually took a gander at some stuff last week on American Pentecostalism and it's high regard for pacifism. It seems that early on Pentecostals were on the forefront of the anti-war efforts in the U.S. So, I wonder if there is a way in which we learn to speak of peace as Christians that is exemplified in the passage from Acts.

And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language?

We gather as Christian community to listen and to speak. Listening and speaking one another's languages (whether an actual language or the language of the heart) is essential to the life of a healthy community if we are to move forward in our journey together. The Spirit of God helps us in this. It opens our hearts to one another so that we might learn to listen...and to speak.

In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams. Even upon my slaves, both men and women, in those days I will pour out my Spirit; and they shall prophesy. And I will show portents in the heaven above and signs on the earth below, blood, and fire, and smoky mist. The sun shall be turned to darkness and the moon to blood, before the coming of the Lord's great and glorious day. Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.

We have to learn to listen and to speak with our hearts if we are going to put flesh on these dreams and visions. If we cannot speak one another's language or listen to one another with our hearts, then it does not matter what dreams or visions we attempt to share.

another bbq done and gone

True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost.
-Arthur Ashe, tennis legend

We survived the onslaught. Yes, they came in droves to Chateau Ouilmette to grill and to play "smashminton." Encased meats. Slices of grilled veg. Occasional drizzle. Small children running about avoiding swinging badminton rackets. It was a good day.

Now I need to clean. Oi. I hope you all had a wonderful day with friends and/or family. We did.

memorial day

I hate war for its consequences, for the lies it lives on and propagates, for the undying hatreds it arouses, for the dictatorships it puts in the place of democracies, and for the starvation that stalks after it. I hate war, and never again will I sanction or support another.
-Harry Emerson Fosdick

If you are a regular here you know that I am a great fan of Harry Emerson Fosdick, a famous early 20th Century preacher. He was the first guy to stand in the pulpit at Riverside and was invited after WWII to speak to the powers that be in Geneva. He was not a great fan of war. He believed it was a failure of humanity, and during his era, Christian nations, to go to war. He also said, “The tragedy of war is that it uses man's best to do man's worst.”

Today is Memorial Day. We honor those who died in armed conflict. It began as a way to honor the fallen after the American Civil War. It was called Decoration Day. People were to go out and decorate the graves of the fallen soldiers. We were a broken nation...and grieving. It was changed later to be a day to honor all Americans who have died in armed conflict. Today we picnic...and parade.

My grandfather (pictured as a young man here) and his two brothers all fought in WWII. Pappy and his younger brother, Bill, saw active duty. Gilbert trained soldiers stateside for the Pacific theater. They all returned home. Today I will remember them. I will remember my ancestors who fought in the Civil War and in the American Revolutionary War. I will remember those who stood in protest to war.

Take a moment today if you can. Remember war. Remember freedom. Think of people like Fosdick and my grandfather. Pray for God's peace. May we turn swords into plough shares. Come quickly, Lord Jesus.

Take a moment to read this article...

Memorial Day: After the Parades and Picnics
by Johann Christoph Arnold, 05-22-2009

*“Only the dead have seen the end of war.” – Plato*

Everybody loves a long weekend. But this year’s Memorial Day ought to be a
lot more meaningful to all of us. We need to see it as a chance to pray for
lasting peace and for our president, that he may lead our country to a new
vision. Otherwise, our future will be marked by continuous open-ended global
warfare, and we will have many more deaths to commemorate with each passing
Memorial Day.

Today we should not only remember the dead, but celebrate life. We need to
think about what Memorial Day really means—what the life of every deceased
soldier means to his or her family, and to us.

These men and women were people like you and me. They loved their country
and they loved their families. They had hopes, dreams and ambitions. They
lived—and were willing to die—for a cause in which they truly believed.

I believe all war is wrong—and most people do. Who isn’t for peace? As the
old saying goes, “All war is civil war, because all men are brothers.” But I
also know that many of those who die in warfare sacrifice themselves to save
others. Would we have the same courage?

Families who have lost loved ones in combat should be comforted to know
that even though they are no longer with us, their lives can still serve a
greater purpose. No person dies in vain; every death carries a valuable
lesson for the living. Children need to learn about the importance of human
life, and every life story has something to teach them. This is true
education.

We need to channel our energies into positive efforts that will bring
people together. Let’s become better role models for our children. To do
this we must put aside all our fears, frustrations, and anger. We must
recognize that we have relied too much on our own knowledge and skills to
solve our daily problems. We have forgotten God and lost our sense of
community.

In this light, Memorial Day ought to be a time to visit our neighbors,
local veterans, and nursing home residents. Too often, we don’t even know
who our neighbors are. Everyone needs someone to talk to. By sharing with
others, we will find out that we have much in common.

When the speeches and parades are over, let’s also take time to stop by the
local cemetery to stand beside those who are still mourning. Let’s grieve
with them.

People are often reluctant to open up and share their needs with others.
Yet only by allowing others to help carry their burdens will they find
healing. Then the vision of freedom for which so many brave men and women
died in past wars will become real.

Wherever people find one another and have community together, the peace
that we all long for will be found. Let’s pray for those that have not yet
found this peace.

Alfredo Molano, a Colombian exile in Spain, once wrote, “The true end of a
war is the rebirth of life—the end of fear, the right to die peacefully in
one’s own bed, and the return of laughter.” Some of my best friends are
veterans, and I have had to think of them in light of these words. I have
seen the scars they continued to carry long after the fighting was over—in
some cases right up to the present. These are wounds that only time and
prayer can heal.

Fortunately, many have found healing—some by reconciling with former
enemies and others by speaking out about their experiences and educating a
new generation about the futility and evil of war. The result of these
efforts is a strong faith and a deep peace. Through their work they have
become an inspiration and role model to many children. They are taking part,
as Molano says, in the “rebirth of life.” These veterans are the real heroes
of today’s celebration. I’m thankful for each one.

*Johann Christoph Arnold* is a pastor, author of 10 books (see
www.plough.com, and co-founder of Breaking the Cycle (www.breakingthecycle.com).

pastors and their offices

Here's something from somewhere

“The initial locus and primary focus of [pastors] work is in their offices. Time-management studies again and again have confirmed that pastors invest a large percentage of their time in their offices - in meetings, in doing administrative work, and in taking care of administrative details…Pastors continue to spend so much time their offices because it is a familiar and habitual behavior pattern that has been nurtured and reinforced for many, many years. And the foundation underlying that behavior pattern is an understanding of the nature of leadership that is no longer helpful.”

- Kennon Callahan, Effective Church Leadership

the onion...love the trekkies

Trekkies Bash New Star Trek Film As 'Fun, Watchable'

hello? men?

Last night Trish and I went to a craft thing/festival/show sponsored by a local woman named Jess Jones who blogs at howaboutorange.com. I went knowing that I would be one of the few men there. That's fine. My wife had been looking forward to going for quite some time and I caught some of her excitement. Also, truth be told, some of the paper crafting stuff intrigues me. I have loved that kind of thing for a while now, have collected pens, and nibs and fancy paper, since before college. So, we went.

First, let me just say that it was a great time. Jess was charming and fun. The other people who brought crafts to share or demonstrate were also interesting and engaging people. I actually met a woman who lives only two or three blocks from the parsonage. Excellent. We learned how to transfer polaroids to watercolor paper. That was great fun and we have two images still drying to show for our labor. Trish is expressing an interest in decoupage. And, thankfully, there were one or two paper artists there with things to share. All in all, it was an excellent evening. I was, however, the only male in the room.

Now, certainly I am not complaining. I like women...a lot. I like their company...a lot. I don't mind being told again and again how good a husband I am because I was willing to go to something like this with my wife. It may serve to help me in the future when I no doubt say/do something stupid. But, c'mon, guys! Where were you? Anyway...I had fun cavorting with a hundred or so young creative women. My wife will never let me forget it either. She offered to have me dance at one point. Thankfully I dodged that bullet.

Follow Jess' blog. If you like sewing like my wife does, or the color orange as much as I do, you won't regret it. Also, go here. It's just plain fun.

astounded by flattery

I think I slept for eight unbroken hours last night. That's remarkable! Holy cow, that's a lot of sleep. Huzzah! It was much needed. Maybe the sermon prep will be a little less cloudy today then. I don't know. We'll see.

I received a request earlier this week from a pastor in Baltimore to use the text from my 2008 Easter sermon for a eucharistic prayer that he was writing. Flattered, I said yes. It's been an interesting week of ups and downs. I have been flattered, astounded for my Facebook friends, by such comments this week. Usually I don't give such comments much weight. It feels, I don't know, vain, perhaps.

For whatever reason this week I've been struggling with some things and the comments have been buoying, uplifting even. Sidelong comments and affirmations have meant more this week, and I am grateful. Unworthy, but grateful nonetheless.

Thanks.

ascension hymn

Today is the Feast of the Ascension of our Lord if I remember correctly. Last night I sang at another local congregation's Evensong service. Lovely stuff. Today at our usual noon prayer service, we sang the following hymn:

Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer!
That calls me from a world of care,
And bids me at my Father’s throne
Make all my wants and wishes known.
In seasons of distress and grief,
My soul has often found relief
And oft escaped the tempter’s snare
By thy return, sweet hour of prayer!

Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer!
The joys I feel, the bliss I share,
Of those whose anxious spirits burn
With strong desires for thy return!
With such I hasten to the place
Where God my Savior shows His face,
And gladly take my station there,
And wait for thee, sweet hour of prayer!

Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer!
Thy wings shall my petition bear
To Him whose truth and faithfulness
Engage the waiting soul to bless.
And since He bids me seek His face,
Believe His Word and trust His grace,
I’ll cast on Him my every care,
And wait for thee, sweet hour of prayer!

Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer!
May I thy consolation share,
Till, from Mount Pisgah’s lofty height,
I view my home and take my flight:
This robe of flesh I’ll drop and rise
To seize the everlasting prize;
And shout, while passing through the air,
“Farewell, farewell, sweet hour of prayer!”

This is one of my favorite hymns. I know that there is some musty theology in here and some will balk at the bodiless resurrection image, but today I could care less. Consolation is the word for the day. So, take a moment to read it again if you wish. Pray if you're so inclined.

insomnia

Awake at 3. Still awake...birds chirping.

eternal echoes: one

Your longing [to belong] is the Divine Longing in human form.
-John O'Donohue

A congregant from CCW passed along a copy of Eternal Echoes: Exploring Our Hunger to Belong by John O'Donohue. I started reading it last night and only a dozen pages in I can tell that this is going to be one intense ride. I'll be posting on it from time to time as I have other books (Sabbath, Blue Like Jazz, and Celebration of Discipline) on this blog. I hope that you all find it interesting. It's a dense piece of work, so there will be quite a few posts. Let me start with the prologue here.

The author starts off by reminding us just how rare community is these days, or at least if it is not rare it is more and more challenging to find or create. Our usual institutions (the village, the church, the synagogue etc) are no longer the principal loci for community as they once were. We are fragmented people. He also reminds us that the internet is not true community. Again, I could not disagree more, but that's me. I want to nuance his point of view there, but we'll see how it pans out in the book first.

Last week in my sermon I reminded us that the scriptures tell us that we love because God first loved. The act of Creation itself is an act of love. God's ruach, God's breath poured out over the deep (chaos, that fragmented or colluded mess - yes both) was an act of love. O'Donohue states that it was also an act of longing. God first longed. The Divine Longing is echoed in our own ongoing longing for community.

Note: This is not an academic work with footnotes and such. I say that so those of you who read this blog don't expect me to be academic. It's good ol' poetic spiritual stuff here. Be warned. No footnotes! The book is "a poetic and speculative exploration of the creative tension between longing and belonging."

So, that being said, I'm going to keep reading.

"Why do we long to belong?" asks the author. Well, because we remember deep in our bones the divine sense of completeness, of belonging. That is the divinity within us remembering itself. The quotation above is how O'Donohue expresses it. There is a desire to bridge the gap between isolation and intimacy, our uniqueness (individuality) and shared common life (community). We live in the tension, he suggests, and it can be a great force of creativity or it can crush us. In either case, it is spiritually unhealthy to ignore it.

I'm going to keep reading and post from time to time. I'll let you know how it goes. If you have read this book, let me know your thoughts. He's written others that have proven to be quite popular as well. This should be an interesting ride.

The question I have rattling around in my head is whether or not church, for example, is the answer to the longing or if church is simply the place that helps us to navigate the tension so that our lives can be fruitful and creative. My guess is the answer is yes, both. It all depends on who you are. We'll see. O'Donohue suggests that "spiritual friendship" is key to filling this need. And he is wise enough to say that it doesn't have to come from a singular community...as we simply don't function that way any longer. Perhaps we never have.

Maybe I misunderstand him. I'll keep at it and let you know.

sermon: it's a family thing

Good morning. I have bed head. Thus, I am wearing a hat. Try not to hold it against me. The scripture readings for the morning are 1 John 5:1-6 and John 15:9-17. Enjoy your day!

saturday clearance

The rain has knocked all the blossoms off of the flowering shrubs. The lilac and the tulip tree are done now. They've had their time and the rain is trying to clear away the mess. I'll miss the perfume of the lilac. Every year I look forward to its blooming.

Pardon me as I clear some thoughts from my head.

So, now it's time to plant the veggie garden. I don't know what will go in the ground this year. I'm thinking of trying cucumbers and beans. If I can find a good climbing tomato, I may try that as well. I seldom have any luck with tomatoes in the parsonage yard. There's not enough sun. Tomatoes are demanding in that way. They want a lot of sun. No matter what I end up planting, however,I'm looking forward to getting it all together.

In other news I went with a friend to see Star Trek last night. Honestly, I was blown away by it. I don't know if the Roddenberry would have been pleased with the liberties they took with the story, but I certainly was. J.J. Abrams is a wonderful filmmaker and Leonard Nimoy was perfect. The story was smart and told well. And with today's cgi, well, let's just say that the days of everyone leaning to the left on the set appear to be over. Now my goal is to figure out how to keep it out of this Sunday's sermon.

You see, the movie is all about family, friendship, connection and understanding what motivates people. The scripture for this Sunday is about family, friendship, connection and what motivates people. So...yeah. It's a fun vehicle to play with. I just have to remember that the movie is not the Gospel. That's all. It's not trying to say the same thing and I should not force it to do so.

One more thing here before I go...I recently discovered that I am listed on a particular blogroll and I am totally surprised. Purpose Driven Connection has a website. Rick Warren and the gang are on-line. This is not surprising, of course. That I am listed in their list of pastor blogs shocks me. So, if you are visiting from that site, welcome! I am glad you are here. And thanks to whomever placed me on the list. I understand the site is in beta. I'm certain to be deleted when it goes live. Ha!

a wondrous distraction

sermon mumblings: aristotle

What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies.
-Aristotle

This Sunday we get to speak of being children of God and friends with Christ. I'm not usually one to reach to the neo-Platonic when I think about theology and preaching. This week, however, Aristotle and his Nicomachean Ethics are popping into my mind. I'm hoping that Cliff might chime in a little on this.

Friendship is about shared substance, shared soul, about being made of the same stuff. In this way it is like family to some. It's genetics, legacy, and inheritance. There's so much to the scripture passages this Sunday that hit me where I'm living this week. Family, friendship, shared identity and substance, and the nature of Christian community.

John 15:9-17

As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love. I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.

"This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father. You did not choose me but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name. I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another."

Could that fruit be the love of God-inspired community? Beloved Community? Hmm...still pondering.

found space

Here's an essay that I have written for a recent edition of Liturgy.

Burdened By Someone Else's Theology: Approaches to Inherited Space

The baptismal pool at The Community Church leaks. It has for years. It does not hold water at least not for long. All five hundred or more gallons of it leaks into the basement through the poured concrete and re bar right into the kitchen next to the fellowship hall. Yes, this is a baptist church. No, the baptismal pool does not hold water. As the pastor, I promise you that there have been plenty of laughs over this. The possible theological significance escapes no one. So, why has it not been repaired?

The first and most direct answer is simple: money. The pool is poured concrete reinforced by steel re bar. It is part of the foundation to the sanctuary. It is surrounded by beautifully stained wood molding and is covered in its entirety with two inch by two inch tiles. To replace it would take specialized demolition and specialized reconstruction. It is an enormous undertaking. The pool is original to the almost century old building and repairing it demands nothing but the best craftsmanship.

That reason alone is enough to prohibit the repair. We can always go to a local lake (Lake Michigan) in the summer months for a baptism. There are many creative ways around the problem. Discussions about it, however, have revealed other interesting realities. Not everyone feels a great need to baptize anyone in the first place. The place of baptism in the theological lexicon of the congregation has diminished in some corners.

Is it really that surprising? Perhaps to some it might be, but this is just one story among many about how congregations wrestle with inherited space and the theology imposed by those spaces. Liturgy most often occurs indoors in a space specifically designed for a specific liturgy. A congregation's theology may shift, however, and something like a leaky baptismal pool will provide the perfect opportunity to reveal this truth. Living with inherited space is sometimes difficult. Revitalizing and growing a congregation with an inherited space is often difficult. So how do we do it?

We have heard many stories by now about congregations that have changed their worship space in order to revitalize congregational life. They have invested hundreds of thousands of dollars in a state of the art sound system, video system, and perhaps a band. It may be that the money has been spent to tear out the pews and refinish the floor. Now the congregation has chairs that can be arranged in any number of ways. Perhaps the congregation has retired the old space entirely (likely calling it a chapel and intending it be used for weddings or other more traditional occasions) and has built a new space with a new organ, chairs in stead of pews, and a labyrinth mosaic on the floor.

These are exciting times of transformation in the life of a congregation. For better or worse, however, not every congregation has the financial muscle to make such changes. Sometimes, if we are honest, those of us in such situations might even find ourselves envious and wishing our worship space could be transformed so dramatically. “O, what we could do to invigorate our congregations then!” we may find ourselves saying.

Such changes simply are not options for every congregation. Our buildings are older and the architecture is fixed. The baptismal pool weighs a thousand pounds and is made of solid marble. The sanctuary is raked downward to the front of the space. The pulpit is ornately carved wood and permanently affixed to the dais next to the choir loft. There are only so many electrical outlets available to us and the system blows a fuse every time we run the projectors and the ceiling fans at the same time. We have inherited space and it no longer appears to serve those who worship in it.

How then can we renew or revitalize our liturgies when the worship spaces themselves appear to be fighting against us? This essay will explore this issue and offer some ideas to help navigate the complicated issue of liturgical renewal. The hope is that a congregation might begin to ask good questions. There is no silver bullet, no one liturgical reform that can help revitalize all congregations. We can only share in the questions.

We will explore re-traditioning our worship life. What is a congregation's liturgical roots and can they bring new life? We will look at using unusual places for worship. Can a congregation find exciting oppoprtunities for self expression in found spaces such as warehouses? We will discuss working within older worship spaces and the attempt to do something new within them. How do we allow an older space to work in concert with new communities creating a theological dialog between the current residents and the original designers? Finally we will look at virtual spaces. No essay in our current technological climate would be complete without some recognition of the reality of the internet. One could write an entire book (and some have) on the topic. This essay will only mention it in passing, but the hope is that the reader will follow up on some of the exciting possibilities available on-line.

Explore the Attic: Re-Traditioning

Many of us work in buildings that were designed and constructed in another century, and no matter what our personal preferences might be, we recognize that the lived theology of the gathered community no longer fits with the expressed theology of the architectural space. Yet, because of our affection for those who have given us the space, we politely struggle along in an ill-fitting garment. We often sentimentalize. We rightly hold on to what has nurtured our faith, but don't truly understand what we have been given. There are countless reasons we sit in our churches and pretend that the space does not influence us in some way.

One cannot put new wine in old wine skins, as the Gospel writer reminds us. We cannot, for example, hang video screens in each sanctuary in the country. Some of them simply are not designed for it. And there may be nothing worse for the ears than an electrified instrument in a stone cathedral played with no consideration for the very live acoustic of the nave.

Yet, Ezekiel stood over a valley of bones and the Spirit moved and suddenly there was life again. Resurrection life is the calling of each Christian community of faith. We can find creative ways to resurrect the theology expressed in the space we have been given. We may very well be called to resurrect the theology expressed by our spaces in new and exciting ways. Perhaps it is finally time to use all the toys in the liturgical toy box...even the sanctus bells.

Phyllis Tickle, in her book The Great Emergence, writes about congregations that are re-traditioning. They are embracing the practices remembered by their spaces but are perhaps unknown by the congregation. They are beginning to use the east-facing altar as it was intended. They are pulling out the old vestments, cleaning out the attics, and in a spirit of holy play, are encountering anew old liturgical forms. They are embracing old symbols and old meanings as well as imbuing these same symbols with new meanings.

Like fond refurbishers who have inherited a much-loved and historic house, they seek to update the wiring, install better plumbing, and modernize the kitchen, but not in order to sell the house. Quite the contrary. They want to live in it for all of time, while simultaneously increasing its comfortableness, enhancing its natural beauty, and exposing its welcoming worth to all who pass by.

Tickle communicates the sense of holy play available in such an approach. Like children who wish to explore a grandparent's attic, congregations are embracing their roots. They are allowing the space to inform their liturgical theology and liturgical practice. They are not fighting so much as they are embracing it and smoothing out the edges to make it a little more hospitable. This can be a graceful way of revitalizing a congregation, incorporating past and present into a vital future.

St. Peter's Episcopal Church in Sycamore, Illinois is an excellent example of a vital smaller congregation with a strong sense of it's own liturgical history and the value that embracing that history can bring to the worship life of a congregation. Rev. David Hedges, their Rector, tells several stories about how the congregation wrestled with its older space.

Over the years priests serving the congregation have struggled where to sit. Do they sit in the bishop's chair facing the congregation or do they sit on the presider's bench off to the side. Is it important to have a visible presider or is it not? What creates community? Rev. Hedges lets the space decide this debate for the congregation. Where the priest sits is “not the center. The center of attention is the altar.” The community is not defined by the priest, but by the altar, allowing the architecture of the space to have deeply influential voice.

St. Peter's has an east-facing altar. A smaller altar has been used from time to time over the years and has been placed closer to the middle of the nave, but no longer. The congregation continues to “take pride in the traditional nature of the space.” There is an ongoing appreciation of the older space “characterized by stability.” There is stability in the age of the congregation and stability within the community, the priest included, facing the cross together.

Rev. Hedges reminds us that the question that a community is truly attempting to answer by re-traditioning is one of authenticity. Face east or face the congregation, but remain authentic to the community and to the liturgical architecture. There is a risk in any liturgical tradition of succumbing to kitsch, but the desire is authenticity, an authentic people of God responding to God in worship while not conceding their identity for the sake of liturgical innovation. “No one liturgical reform is a cure-all.”

An east-facing altar, once the place of sacrifice and a distant God, can become the place of unanswered questions, the place where mystery resides. As the pastor blesses the elements and they are carried down the steps into the congregation, the gathered community is reminded how the mysteries of faith are to be translated and carried out into the world as the Body of Christ is translated at the table and carried out into the congregation. Our questions and the mysteries we behold are shared with all. The symbol of the high altar is becomes apostolic, a vehicle for blessing the whole world, a symbol of a sent people.

Found Space: Re-purposing Inheritance

In their book, Hi Concept – Lo Tech: Theater for Everyone in Any Place, Barbara Carlisle and Don Drapeau intend to provide theater students with ways of thinking that would help them start their own theater companies. In such an endeavor, space is at a premium and financial resources are practically absent. They are compelled to be creative in ways that current churches might find helpful. What would be better than “church for everyone in any place?”

Performance spaces can be found anywhere, say the authors.

By walking down an aisle on the arm of her father, a bride ascends a stage, and makes an audience of the participants. When a child stands up to recite, when a singer steps up to the microphone, a stage is born. As soon as someone hangs a drapery or sets up a folding screen to hide the performer, and atmosphere of suspense prevails. There is now a new space, charged in a different way from the room that preceded it.

Sometimes we call this acting space. It is also stage space, theater space. Whatever its name, it is electric, powerful and malleable. The more one comes to understand theater space, the more easily one can use it to advantage.

There are some helpful ideas for the church in this understanding of theater. Similar to the ethos of “where two or more are gathered,” actors are encouraged to find spaces to perform. Any space anywhere has the possibility of becoming a performance venue. Can we as followers of Christ embrace that attitude? Clearly, theater is not church though there are some clear similarities. The goal of the performative action is different, one assumes. Yet, the freedom expressed here is potentially invigorating. There have been examples of this freedom in churches over time and there are plenty of present day examples that can be helpful.

Wicker Park Grace, a Presbyterian emergent congregation in the Wicker Park neighborhood of Chicago has adopted the “found space” ethos. They worship in a warehouse that has been used in the past as a business office and an art center. Rev. Nannette Sawyer says that it is essential at first to recognize that an “atmosphere of worship” must be created.

To do this, Wicker Park Grace focuses on the relationships between people. Can the space echo their desire for community? Can it authentically express this desire? How do they stay aware of moments when their use of the space actually undermines this desire? These are many of the questions they ask themselves that can be helpful to any congregation.

Sawyer says that there is “a certain informality” to their worship that is reflected, for example, in the way they arrange seating. The chairs can be arranged in any number of ways. Sometimes they gather for discussion, or arrange the chairs so that they can see one another's faces. They are trying to allow for “soft edges” to inform them. Practices such as worshiping and eating in the same space define the community.

Space defines community. Community defines space. Sawyer is intensely aware of this dynamic. She knows that the space shapes the community and, thus, how they shape the space is intentional. For example, they choose ways to encourage participation in worship over presentation of worship. The guiding question is always “What is the objective of the community?” They wish to “know, love, and care” for one another. How can the shape of the space, the architecture reinforce this? Knowing what questions to ask is essential for any congregation as they address the issue of space.

It's one thing to turn a warehouse into a sanctuary for worship. It's another thing entirely to take an existing worship space and live into it as if it were new. How does one re-purpose an existing worship space?

Throughout the world, people gather at markets and bazaars to buy and sell things. The bazaar may be a flea market where people exchange junk or a financial market where people exchange junk bonds. As a forum for worship innovation, the bazaar is simply a meeting place where people freely exchange ideas and practices.

What if we were to allow the freedom of the theatrical claiming of space to enter our way of understanding our own worship gatherings? What might that look like? Perhaps it would look like a bazaar as Redman suggests. The space is not dispensing its theology into an unthinking or unsuspecting congregation. Instead it is part of a conversation, a partnership in which the whole worshiping community takes part. Can this enliven a congregation?

This is similar to “re-traditioning” in that there is an attempt to honor the space. The principal difference is that the old serves only as a backdrop to something new or as a partner. The idea is similar to revitalizing downtown areas in some cities that insist that developers leave the facade of the old building intact while an entirely new structure is created behind it. The old architecture is valued and provides a modicum of context, but is occasionally just something to work around.

Solomon's Porch, a congregation in the Twin Cities, has replaced the pews with couches and has hung their own artwork in front of the stained windows of the older church building that they purchased from the previous congregation that resided there. The Church of Jesus Christ Reconciler worships in the side chapel of Immanuel Lutheran Church in the Rogers Park neighborhood of Chicago. They use the main nave for processions at certain times of the liturgical year and share the building with Immanuel Lutheran and two other congregations. At certain times of the liturgical year, such as Easter, the four congregations come together and share worship. They will use the entire church facility including the fellowship hall and the courtyard outdoors for their liturgies. St. Bartholomew's Church, an Episcopal congregation in New York City has turned the fellowship hall into a café and the narthex into a book store all in order to invite the community that surrounds them into their life as a congregation.

There is no one way to re-purpose a church building. Again, as Rev. Nannette Sawyer suggests, the first step must be to find the right questions. As Rev. Dave Hedges said as well, authenticity and mindfulness of what the objective may be is essential.

The Internet: Virtual Architecture

There is, of course, another kind of found space for liturgy. The Internet is proving to be a new "place" to worship God. People gather on-line in Second Life as congregations of God's people. There are daily prayer websites like oremus.org. You can follow twitturgies on Twitter. Sermons and music are recorded on YouTube. The creativity and innovation is remarkable. There is such a thing as virtual space and it is by nature without obvious architecture. We need to take time to explore the liturgical theology of on-line worship. As long as the technology is with us, people will meet and gather on-line to worship with one another. This is the new found space and often exists as a parallel space to physical congregations.

There are, of course, risks. In his book Transforming Our Days, Richard R. Gaillardetz quotes Howard Rheingold's description of virtual communities:

People in virtual communities use words on screens to exchange pleasantries and argue, engage in intellectual discourse, conduct commerce, exchange knowledge, share emotional support, make plans, brainstorm, gossip, feud, fall in love, find friends and lose them, play games, flirt, create a little high art and a lot of idle talk. People in virtual communities do just about everything people do in real life, but we leave our bodies behind.

Clearly on-line community challenges sacramental theology at its core. There is no question of this. But it is also equally true that people are gathering on-line. They are making community on-line. They perform theater on-line. How hard is it to imagine on-line worship? How different is it from televised evangelism? The place of the Internet in the revitalization of a worshiping community is unexplored for the most part. It is a frontier of sorts and as such its influence, the opportunities it represents, and its dangers should not be underestimated. Perhaps it would be wise to include the Internet in any conversation about worship and space.

Asking the Questions

In the end, this essay is simply about asking the right questions. Likely this can be distilled into one simple question: What is an authentic expression of the worship of your community? To answer this question one will have to ask what the building and the community that gather within the walls are trying to accomplish and what theological bias is that they bring to the conversation. Buildings are not mute partners. Those who have gone ahead of us, the great cloud of witnesses, are not silent. Our theology is inherited and it is invented simultaneously. May God bless your community in this exploration. May a vital future await you.

preachification and other creative endeavor

It is no use walking anywhere to preach unless our walking is our preaching.
-St. Francis of Assisi

How often have we read those words attributed to St. Francis, "Preach the Gospel at all times. When necessary, use words"? Good stuff there. One of the things I would like to remind everyone is that St. Francis was a famous preacher. He preached so beautifully that, it is said, little animals stopped to hear him. So, it's not that preaching isn't valuable or even necessary, it is simply that as with any other form of communication, it has it's place. Preaching has context.

Jeff has been blogging about preaching and has pointed out one or two things that would be good for me to remember. He quotes Bart and Brown-Taylor. Both are known as excellent teachers and theologians. And they push the art of preaching as well...they want us to recognize how it is a holy artform. Brown-Taylor calls it alchemy. (Has anyone else here read The Alchemist? Brilliant book. I commend it to your attention.) Transformation is what is at work and at stake in preaching.

Krumbine blogs at Horbawrong.com, "creativity's hub." He journals about his creative projects and process. He's not a preacher, per se, but he is interested in creative community. I think that what is at stake in preaching is communal. And I think that aspect of the craft of preaching has been left out of my conversation thus far.

Hearing, proclaiming, entering into a tradition of thought and wisdom (not all thought is wise, you know), action and ritual...When I preach it is before a group of people who will talk about what is said, and (frightening!) perhaps even act upon what is said in the pulpit. The moment is one that the community sets aside in the midst of worship so that one of their own might speak words of/to/for/at/around God. The listeners have something at stake. The preacher has something at stake. We have set something aside, made time, stilled our lives for a moment or two...so that...so that what?

John E. Hines said, "Preaching is effective as long as the preacher expects something to happen-not because of the sermon, not even because of the preacher, but because of God.” Preaching, like many other art forms, is about making room for God's action in the midst of a gathered community.

I'm still musing, and the communal piece needs more of my time here.

try something creative

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...I have been digging in the dirt in the back yard of the parsonage. Gardening. It's good for me. I love it. The sunny days and my days off have not been lining up very well. Yesterday was the first day where I have had time, inclination and good weather simultaneously. So, much gardening and mowing of the lawn was accomplished. It still feels odd to mow before Memorial Day weekend, but what's a man to do?

I have been thinking about creativity again. Thanks to the series of posts and the great comments about preaching etc, I've had a lot of fodder for thought. Taste. Expectations. Fruitfulness (and what particular fruit). There's so much at stake when we create. I am one of those people who tries to remove as much of their ego from the creative process as possible. I know it's impossible. I know that my ego is always involved. It's true. But I try no less to keep it in the background, to let the sermon/song/drawing/essay to have it's own voice. My voice is too damn petulant to be of much use.

When you create, how do you navigate that dynamic? Do you just let your self or your ego (Do you distinguish between the two?) speak? If so, how? What tastes dictate your style or content? What's your favorite creative media?

another quotation on preaching

Here's Peter Gomes' thinking on preaching.

There’s a culture of caution that the church is built on that most preachers are unwilling to challenge…once the preachers discover what the task is, they back off….You don’t want to bite the hand that feeds you. So the result is, you don’t feed them very much. It’s almost a deal — ‘If you don’t disturb us, we won’t disturb you.’ But preaching is essentially a disturbing act. It offers something that is not there. It criticizes something that is there. And it is based on something that is yet to come. Preachers are basically unwilling to make that kind of statement to people whom they either love or fear, and in some cases both.

What are your thoughts? I don't think we can disturb people all the time, but as has been pointed out in a variety of ways, coming before God is disturbing. We are found loved and found wanting simultaneously. Can a sermon embody this truth?

uncertain saturdays

Well, the weather is turning a little sour this morning. The clouds are rolling past grey and heavy. The wind is whipping the trees around. This is not a day to be out gardening. We had hoped to do a little gardening this morning at the church, but that looks like it won't happen now. We'll reschedule. It's no big deal. I'll have to come up with something good for breakfast this morning to compensate for not being able to go to the farmers' market. Crepes. They sell crepes there. O, but they are good!

The coffee is a welcome thing this morning. I awoke at my usual time: dawn. Once the sun is over the horizon (or the hedge on my lazier days), I am up. It's just the way it is. This morning's bean is from Julius Meinl. It's not bad. It's a little mild in comparison to our usual fare, but it's good nonetheless. I miss the bite of a darker roast, but it's smooth and rich. Good on 'em.

The sermon is still wandering around the cosmos waiting for me to be ready to receive it. Some days I wonder what would happen if I showed up on Sunday without a sermon and simply said, "We're going to sit in silence for five minutes. Get comfortable. We'll wake you if you snooze. I have nothing to tell you this morning."

I mean, does the Spirit always have something to say on Sunday mornings? What if the Spirit spoke on Wednesday at the committee meeting and moved on? Done. Word given and received. I don't know. It's an interesting thought. I wonder if people would understand.

Until then I'll keep praying and playing the banjo. The Ficus is coming back for a couple of days. I'll need to get everything ready. Sunday we'll have guests over to celebrate Mom's Day with Brenda. She's the mother of some good friends and they needed a back yard in which to grill. We have the yard. They have the grill and Brenda. Done.

Enjoy your day. I'll keep plugging away and trimming and pruning and coming to some sense of what God is telling my church. Can we imagine pruning anything more than we already have? Maybe. We'll see. God prunes. We grow.

vines, branches, and old timey music

I am working from home today. It's not as easy as one might think. I need the structure of an office some days. Today, however, I think I'm doing okay. I have been puzzling through the lectionary readings for this Sunday trying to get a hold on that whole vine and branches thing. Love and pruning. Hmm.

I wonder if there's something in "Jordan is a Hard Road to Travel" that is helpful. It's an old minstrel song. The verses have been changed again and again over the years. It's like a lot of tunes that way. You know the kind...handed down from generation to generation. Sometimes verses have to be dropped or swapped out. Occasionally a verse is completely forgotten, but usually it stays hidden in someone's memory to be pulled out again some day. Still, the song must change over time. Even the chorus changes a little.

Pull off your overcoat
roll up your sleeves
Jordan is a hard road to travel.
Pull of your overcoat
and roll up your sleeves
Jordan is a hard road to travel I believe.

This song has been changed again and again over the years. I think it's been pruned. Several things happen at once. Verses that no longer speak to the present moment are removed. New verses "grow" (using that vine metaphor) to take their place. Sometimes a newer verse is removed so that another verse can grow and the tune can take on a whole new direction.

This is what Jesus might be getting at in the whole vine/branches thing. What are you growing? Why? And what old growth needs to be pruned? Perhaps even new growth has to be pruned if it's headed in the wrong direction. None of it is easy work, but it's necessary work of the song is gonna sing right.

Jordan is a hard road to travel.
Here's a YouTube video for you..."Jordan Am a Hard Road to Travel"

Jordan Am A Hard Road To Travel

I'm gonna sing you a brand new song
It's all the truth for certain
We can't live high but we can get by
And get on the other side of Jordan

Oh pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeves
Jordan is a hard road to travel
Pull off your overcoat and roll up your sleeves
Jordan is a hard road to travel I believe.

The public schools and the highways
are causing quite an alarm
Get a country boy educated just a little
and he won't work on the farm

Now I don't know but I believe I'm right
the auto's ruined the country
Let's get back to the horse and buggy
and try to save some money.

I know a man an evangelist
his tabernacle's always full
The people come from miles around
just to hear him shoot the bull

You can talk about your evangelists
you can talk about Mr. Ford too
But Henry's shaking more hell out of the folks
than all the evangelists do.

sociality and success

Thanks to all who commented yesterday. I appreciate it. So, from what I read, it seems that social media is social only when it is successful/popular. Now, perhaps the social media market is akin to a Jr. High School lunch room. I don't know, but it's an interesting line of thought.

A blog that is posted upon with some regularity but not read is not social media because popularity breeds conversation. It's just html floating on the e-ether. Whereas, a Twitter account with a couple thousand followers is very social because it's successful or successful because it is social. I see. And this is why the e-marketers are trying so hard to pin down what makes for cool and to make their product as cool as possible.

Am I right? Did I get it?

social media

Blogging is not as social as Facebook or Twitter. Well, that's what seems to be going on. I mean, honestly, who wants to read 150 words about much of anything when you can simply poke someone? Heh. Okay, that's not true. Most of the folk I know through or on Facebook use Facebook like a messaging or telephone service. They share everything they want to very quickly to as many or as few people as they desire. It's an amazing thing. Twitter is also great fun, an easy way to get information out there quickly (and receive it as well) within a given community. I love it. Blogging...well, this is a different beast.

Blogging asks us to sit still by comparison. Certainly composing a blog often takes more thought than I ever give a Tweet. Facebook is not blogging is not Facebook. So, let me just take that right out of the conversation.

Is blogging social media? I like the term "social media". It suggests that some media (television, for example) is not social. It's simply media. We sit in front of a box and information flows only one way. Something like Twitter has information flying about like subatomic particle gone wild (Quarks Gone Wild: Spring Break '09!). I like being able to respond to information and to question it.

Blogging allows for all of this, of course, but at a much slower tempo. Do you remember when blogging was considered speedy?

Hmm...

I've been blogging for over eight years now. Things have certainly changed. What do you think?

happy birthday, spouse!

Because I'm a lady and these are my lady things!
-Little Britain, my wife loves their comedy stylings.

Today is my wife's birthday. The above picture was taken by our friend Matthew. Trish did not know it was being taken. It's fantastic. All I will say is that she is younger than I. Discussion of The Age is no longer allowed. So, here are some other things that you should know about The Glorious Spouse.

* She puts up with me. Rare and (I believe) remarkable.
* She is a gifted and talented actor.
* She has a fine singing voice.
* She is one of the funniest people I know.
* She is charming and people fall in love with her daily.
* She is 4'11" tall.

That's all for now. We're off for the day. Exploration. Brunching. Supporting the local economy. It's all good.

I love you, Wife.

sunday videopost: on healing

You know. I made this on Saturday night. Not Sunday. Um. Yeah. I guess I was really, really tired.

mandodoxy: play out of tune

A mandolinist will spend half of their life tuning their mandolin and the other half of their life playing out of tune.
-Don Stiernberg, quoted at a recent live performance

It has been a very long time since I last posted something on mandodoxy. For the three of you who enjoy the posts, I am sorry to have been so long in reviving it. I have not been taking lessons in the past year due to budgetary constraints. Now, that shouldn't matter. I know, but you know, it happens.

During Lent I attended a concert called "Mando Magnificat." It was astounding. More of the great mandolinists in one place than I thought possible. Sam Bush. Mike Marshall. Don Stiernberg. The Milwaukee Mandolin Orchestra performed as did others. And the number of mandolinists in the audience was almost embarrassing. I don't imagine there was anyone playing mandolin that evening outside of that concert hall in all of Chicago.

Sam, Mike, and Don all studied under the late great Jethro Burns* (*Hot damn!). So, at one point someone decided to put the three of them on stage together to work their way through a tune or six. It was unreal. The speed, the improvisation, the imagination...and the ability to play out of tune blew me away. Yes, out of tune. They played out of tune...when they weren't teasing one another for having to tune up.

Now, I don't imagine Sam, Mike, and Don play cheap instruments that go out of tune easily because of shoddy construction. No, mandolins, they say, just go out of tune. During one of the tuning sessions, Don steps up to the microphone and offers up the above quotation. "A teacher of mine once said..."

Jethro Burns*. Yep. The Master. Jethro* said it. I believe it. Heh.

Life, church, faith is easily summarized in the quotation. Jethro* must have been Lutheran or something. I don't know but Don remembered it for us and Sam and Mike nodded wisely and took a moment to remember. We play out of tune. It's the best we have before us most times. We have to try to tune the instruments or else we get so completely out of whack that we can't play...especially together. But we always play out of tune. Ain't nobody got it right. So you have to listen and compensate and stop every now and again to tune and tell a good story. People are listening. Lots of them sometimes.

Mandodoxy.