Strange Man in Shades Plans Marathon

The strange man in the shades in this undated photo is planning on running a marathon for a very good cause.

Although in dire need of recognition, and at the same time, dealing with lack of affection issues, he is basically a good fellow.

Support him here. I am.

The Dangerous Act of Worship

About 20 months ago, during the darkest time in the history of our church, when we were in the midst of a painful split, a dear friend gave me two CDs to listen to. I am a fussy listener to sermons, and so, this was an act of bravery for my friend. I don't do well with about 80% of Christian radio; it bores me.

Soon after, I needed to be in my car for about a 3 hour drive, and I listened to the CDs, recorded at a retreat several weeks before. The speaker was the Rev. Mark Labberton, and for the next three hours I found myself at once thrilled, challenged, laughing, convicted, and in tears. For me, Mark "gets it" about what it means to follow Christ in the real world.

Then, about six months later, as my family and I were taking an emotional break from the near insanity of the hysteria that had surrounded our church, I took a weekend away for a retreat, at which Mark was the speaker. After the first night, several of us stayed behind to chat, share a bottle of wine, and enjoy each other's company. Mark joined us, and I found him to be an engaging, relaxed fellow (remarkably so, for a pastor-type) with a refreshing view of things Christian. His topic for the weekend was worship. I loved every word, and at the same time, felt convicted and challenged in new ways.

Mark has just completed a book which should become required reading for all of us confused, or wondering, or just trying to get an understanding of what in the world the concept of worship really means. The title of this book is "The Dangerous Act of Worship", and the premise of this title is well taken.

We silly church folk have been embroiled in a lot of chatter over the past couple of decades about worship. Worship styles, worship settings, the meaning of worship, on and on and on. It seems endless. To me, most of this discussion has felt like meaningless prattling; silly and trivial banter about a topic that is so far beyond our real reach we have little idea about what we really are talking about.

In this book, Mark Labberton takes us on a journey about the real meaning of worship, and makes some very disturbing observations about the state of the church as it approaches the concepts of worship. His first observation: much of the American church is asleep (me included)! I could not agree more.

More soon. Meantime, buy the darn book. You will be very glad you did.

The Kelly Song

My friend Eric Myers found this clip. I will always remember the first time my wife suggested the name "Kelly" to me - this song came to mind, and I promptly began to sing it to my wife. Here, for posterity's sake, is the real song:

Being Sixteen

Recently, we celebrated our oldest daughter Kelly's 16th birthday party.

Kelly. Sixteen. That is a good collection of years. Almost a complete bushell. A good clump. In California, you can drive at 16. In two more years, you can vote. In 5 years, you can drink, whether your parents want you to or not.

If Mom and I are realistic, in two more years, assuming the grades stay up, California doesn't fall off into the ocean, our savings don't evaporate, you will be leaving home for college. What the heck?!

And now, at this point in life, it seems, speaking only for myself, that pretty much of the parenting work, is well, almost done. And as I look back on these years, I feel like I want to do two things. First, give thanks. Second, apologize.

Every Day a First
I had a very wise man tell me years ago that with the oldest child, in any family, the parents and the kid are "doing each day" of the growing up years for the first time. Everyday its the first time. Changing diapers, going to kindergarten, Girl Scouts, T-Ball, 5th grade graduation, first day of Middle School, all new. Softball, the Middle School musical, knee surgery, going to summer camp, every day, for the first time. High school orientation, mission trips to Mississippi and Alaska, girls water polo, the struggle of biology class, all of it for the first time. It never stops.

Kelly, you are an amazing person. Every "first day" with you has been an adventure and full of joy. For me, your name means that word - joyful! Funny, outgoing, laid back but energetic, a great friend. The girl who is always singing, unless the shower music is so loud we can't hear you (which is often). Your social life rivals that of Hollywood people, without all of their fakery. You are a great friend, and have surrounded yourself with quality people. For these things, as your Dad, I am completely, utterly, and almost without words to say it, thankful. What a ride. When you were little, and you wanted to be pushed again on the swing, or chucked on the bed in a pile of pillows .....over and over again....you would say "Go-giin!" as in lets keep it going! Now, that's what I want to say....

Just the other day, I found something that struck me, and made me think of being a Dad, and of needing to apologize:

"Don't pick on people, jump on their failures, criticize their faults— unless, of course, you want the same treatment. Don't condemn those who are down; that hardness can boomerang. Be easy on people; you'll find life a lot easier. Give away your life; you'll find life given back, but not merely given back—given back with bonus and blessing. Giving, not getting, is the way. Generosity begets generosity."

Jesus said this, in Luke. I know now, after thinking about it, he was talking to me, as a Dad of a 16 year old. I need to "be easy on people", and there is one person in our family that I am the least easy on. You and I both know who that is.

It seems I have spent most of my adult life trying to be less like my Dad. We both also know that he is not exactly the world's warmest fellow; he was not exactly "easy on people", nor easy on me. And now, after all this time of telling myself I would not replicate his behavior, I find myself being often too critical, and far less loving to you - my "first". For these things, I ask your forgiveness. I am going to try harder in year 16, I promise. I won't stop being the Dad, but maybe I can bring less stress.

For me, the good news is we aren't done yet. You and I are not finished growing up. With God's grace, we have lots more miles to go before we are done. I am so completely excited about your future, whatever the heck it may be. There's a world out there, Kelly, and you can do and be whatever your heart desires. I can't wait to see what happens!

So now, as you turn 16, know that as always, I love you more than I can tell, I am sorry for the ways I have judged, or not listened, or not understood. Its not easy being 16. I can remember vaguely, in the fog of the past, what it was like. Trust me, I was not the picture of grace, handsomeness, poise, and generally having my stuff together. No way. And so, I hope this next year, and many years in the future find me out to be a fairly tolerable guy. Someone who listens better than he talks, who cares, and laughs often and loud. You sure can make me laugh!

Happy Birthday, girl - I love you!

Dad

Shoppers Alert

Do we really need more stuff?

Parenthood

Today, while recuperating from the cold/flu fungus in our home, I watched "Parenthood" with Steve Martin. This is one of my all time favorite movies, as it so well captures the pain, humor, and trials that all of us face as we grow up together in families.

One of my favorite moments is near the end, when Steve Martin's grandma intervenes in a discussion that Steve (Gil) and his wife Karen (Mary Steenburgen) are having about how messy families are...

Grandma: You know, when l was 19, Grandpa took me on a roller coaster.

Gil: Oh?

Grandma: Up, down, up, down. Oh, what a ride.

Gil (sarcastically) What a great story.

Grandma: I always wanted to go again. You know, it was just interesting to me that a ride could make me so frightened, so scared, so sick, so excited, and so thrilled all together.

Some didn´t like it. They went on the merry-go-round. That just goes around. Nothing. l like the roller coaster. You get more out of it.


The next scene is the perennial school play, and Gil and Karen watch as their youngest child charges on stage and disrupts and "ruins" the school play. As Gil finds himself, yet again, stressed out by the behavior of his kids, he suddenly envisions himself on a roller coaster, right there in the school play audience. Gil hates this feeling; the stress and pandemonium his kids create in this life.

But as the coaster ride goes on a bit longer, Gil realizes that all this school play chaos, is really the joy of life, as he turns to smile at his wife, and they share, for a moment, the knowledge, that in the midst of all this panic, they are right where they are supposed to be.....on the roller coaster...of life.

Grandma was right. I feel so frightened, so scared, so sick, so excited, and so thrilled all together. I am just like Gil.

Diseased

I have been missing for a couple of days from my random blogging. We have been having a small epidemic of the flu/nasty bad achy joints hideous cold running through our house. Not wanting to be left behind, I have contracted a nasty case myself.

We should be back to normal in a couple of days.

In the meantime, the girls JV Waterpolo team is coming over tonight for their post season party. Never a dull minute around here.

Hope - Mars Hills Bible Church

What if the image to the left was found on the home page of a church?

What if this church had a completely new way of looking at their mission in the world?

Seeing this makes me hopeful.

What If We Can Be Different?

What if the basic rules of mathematics were suddenly changed? What if you woke up tomorrow and 2 plus 2 inexplicably equaled, say 5.75? How about having the furniture moved around in your house, without your warning? Permanently, and nailed to the floor. Or the ceiling, take your pick.

This is a bit of the way I am feeling after reading about half way through Dallas Willards latest book, "The Great Omission".

What if everything we have learned is maybe only half right. Part way there. What if we really can be different people? What if the abundant life (not money, not status, but a full and overflowing life) that Jesus spoke of is possible? What if?

It seems some of the basic things of faith that I have felt comfortable with for the past 20 or so years are not as important as I thought they were. I think that I may have been pursuing, well, not much of anything. To quote Willard, I am struggling with.. "The Great Disparity – the hope for life expressed in Jesus versus the actual day-to-day behavior, inner life, and social presence of most people who profess adherence to Him."

And what is the Great Omission? Its something the church (in America, to be sure) has not been doing well at all - the lack of making true disciples, apprentices, of Christ.

We have just been consumers, just like the culture around us. To again Quote Dallas:

“The will to obey is the engine that pulls the train of spirituality in Christ. But spirituality in many Christian circles has simply become another dimension of Christian consumerism. We have generated a body of people who consume Christian services and think that that is Christian faith. Consumption of Christian services replaces obedience to Christ. And spirituality is one more thing to consume.”

I have to go rearrange my furniture.

This is How the Church Sometimes Works

Lent and .... Self Denial?

I have decided. From now until April 8th (Easter), no Starbucks for me. By my rough calculations, that means I will be saving about $70 over the period of Lent.

I plan on giving the savings away.

Come to think of it, this is pathetic. I need to give away a factorial of this amount.

Ash Wednesday is today. A mark. Upon my forehead. A little cross. What would our lives be like, our culture be like, if the cross would not wash off. Permanent. Now that would make life different.

And so, I hope to take the time over the next six weeks to pause, to think, to reflect on Jesus, on myself, and on my sinfulness. And to miss my mocha.

This thought seems almost trivial. Doing without for me is almost a joke. I need to work on more significant ways to do without. Really. Honestly. Perhaps I need to adopt a form of 'Lenten lifestyle". What would that look like? What if every Christ follower did this?

Dare You to Move - Illustrated

Read this, then watch this:

Loving Your Job

Every once in a while, Nancy and I like to take a break from reality, and enjoy something timeless. Tonight found us at Disney Hall enjoying the music of Antonio Vivaldi, and the Venice Baroque Orchestra (VBO).

From the middle aged white dude in the fifth row (don't ask me how that happened!?)....a hearty "Bravo!"

But I noticed something else tonight. The lute player. His name was Ivano Zanenghi, and watching him play made my evening.

The evening was not designed around the talents of Ivano, as Vivaldi music is not exactly lute-centric (can I say that?). Anyway, the lute, which is a sort of contorted guitar, is a minor piece in most baroque music. But, tonight, the passion and joy with which Ivano played stole the show for me. Maybe it was partly because Ivano is a middle-aged fellow who is somewhat "hair challenged", like me.

But more profoundly, Ivano's facial expressions gave away the passion, enthusiasm, and joy that he brings to his music. In my view, his simple joy in merely being present upstaged the efforts of the principal violinist, who had a tough time breaking a smile. It is so rewarding to watch someone who loves their job with all their heart, and brings a sense of infectious passion to the stage. You could just feel it!

Might my work, my relationships, my very life convey the joy that Ivano brings to his lute!

Bravo VBO, bravo Vivaldi, and Bravissimo Ivano!

Dare You to Move!

I remember the old outer space movies of the 1950s that I used to watch when I was a kid. All the astronaut guys, and even the bad-guy robots used to wear these massive boots - supposedly to give them extra weight or stability in zero-gravity. Those boots were huge.

I always used to think to myself, "Man, those shoes are a bummer....I would face-plant in no time in those puppies". Maybe its because I was an awkward white teenage kid who loved basketball, but had all the jumping ability of Jabba the Hut. Anyway, I digress from my main point.

What the church in America has wrought upon itself is a pair of humongous boots. Heavy boots. Massive ones. Awkward.

In his latest book, "The Great Omission", philosophy professor and author Dallas Willard offers a peek into a world for us all, without boots, if you will. Floating free, experiencing a life of faith without the boots the church has sold us.

Willard warns that the church has been promoting "Consumer Christianity" for far too long. This type of faith is just a matter of receiving benefits from Christ. That is all that is essential. Salvation is just heaven. And, as it turns out, this consumer faith is now the “default” system of Christian identity in the Western world. On this you can be a Christian forever and never become a disciple. Our local congregations and their extensions generally assume Consumer Christianity is the essential thing.

I don't get out much. Work, family, church responsibilities. And so, just recently, I have discovered the music of Switchfoot, a San Diego band that writes on eternal themes, without the shiny happy Christian veneer. Switchfoot has a song entitled "Dare You to Move":

Maybe redemption has stories to tell
Maybe forgiveness is right where you fell
Where can you run to escape from yourself?
Where you gonna go? Where you gonna go?
Salvation is here

I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift
yourself up off the floor

We have been sold something far less than Christ offers. Its time to take off the boots.

Heather is 13!

Today, our house is officially be occupied by two (count 'em) teenage girls. Heather turns 13 today; and Kelly turned 16 on Sunday. Amazing.

Sunday night was Heather's party, a limo showed up at our door; Heather's idea for her party, just to pick up her friends at their houses, and drive them all around town for a while. Then it was back to our house for pasta (her favorite of all time) dinner, cake, and general merry making.

Next week will be the epic Kelly Norris Birthday party. You think the Grammy's are a big deal? Just wait.

Without much warning, our two girls have landed firmly in their teenage years. Am I ready for this double whammy? Heck no!

Heather is 13!

Some office buildings don't have 13th floors. If you have Triskaidekaphobia, you are irrationally afraid of the number 13. As it turns out, the association of bad luck with the number 13 has been attributed to the fact there were 13 people at the Last Supper of Jesus, although this association seems to have originated only in medieval times. For Heather, I predict 13 will, in a word, rock!

Softball, volleyball, soccer, leadership at school, after school tutoring, hanging with friends, laughing, living, loving. Watching Reba reruns, listening to Oddessy on her Ipod, and showers that last for hours (almost). If we could harness the energy of this amazing young lady, we could light the City of South Pasadena for a week.

Heather, your care and love for others is remarkable. The way in which you can find humor in almost anything is a gift and a joy to us all. Thank you for gracing our lives with your presence. From the very first moment I held you and laughed loudly and cried tears of joy, every day has been an adventure. May the adventure continue!

Thirteen? Feeling a bit squeamish? No us, not our family. Bring it on!