Thoroughly Modern Millie

When our girls were little, almost every time family and friends gathered at our house (usually with extra kids joining the bunch) their would be, eventually, a "show" by the kids. All the adults had to sit in one room, while the Norris girls would co-direct and act in some form of short impromptu comedy or drama. Much laughter and applause was always a part of the mix.

And then, the little girls grow, and the house, ever so gradually becomes a bit more quiet. The plays have moved on to the setting of school. Part of me is glad, and part of me is sad about this. Life moves on.

This weekend marked a relatively important milestone in our family - the final play for our daughters at Middle School. This weekend follows weeks and weeks of practice, preparation, and involvement by so many in town.

For the past five years we have enjoyed these remarkable productions. Both of our girls have each been in two plays their 7th and 8th grade years. Hello Dolly, How to Succeed in Business, Grease, Guys and Dolls, and this year - Thoroughly Modern Millie.

What a joy to see our community rally around these wonderful shows, and what a gift in the leadership and direction of Ms. Tompkins (note: Bruin grad), the long-time director!

Its just a school play, you might say. But it is so much more than that, its a celebration of kids, of community, and of life itself.

What an outstanding show, and how blessed we are!

Coachella Music Festival

A year ago, my then 16 year old daughter was dying to go to the Coachella Music Festival. Remembering what concerts were like when I was a kid, I thought it might be better to wait a year, and have a parent go along. And so, it is a year later, and we are fired up to go!

Its me, my daughter, four of her friends, my buddy Dave (invited so, as my daughter put it, I would not be a "complete loner / looser") and I - a full van, baby! We are leaving Friday morning, and come back on Saturday afternoon. I am very excited. What a great opportunity for this balding, middle aged guy to spend some time in the world of the next generation. Woooo Hooo!

PS: I apologize in advance if I come home smelling of funny cigarettes. I will not inhale, I promise.

For the Beauty of The Earth

Its Earth Day.

I have always been very moved by John Rutter's hymns, and in particular, the one noted below.

For the beauty of the earth
For the glory of the skies,
For the love which from our birth Over
and around us lies.

Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.

Here is hoping that as I grow older, I might be a better steward of the planet God has placed me on.

Get Ready Friends, Its Booked!

Alright friends, we have booked the date. June 20th, at IFlyHollywood.

The World is Just Awesome

Ok, so tonight I have a cold, and I am sitting around the house feeling mostly poopy. However, there is something redemptive in this, catching up on the new season of Deadliest Catch. What a show!

And then, in the midst of flipping over commercials with the DVR, I happen upon the commercial below. I just love this.

Go ahead and watch it, twice:

Sign Me Up for This!

Professor Hawking, and a Ride in the Car

This is my youngest daughter. This photo is now about 12 years old. Often, children teach us so much about ourselves and life, if we are but willing to listen. Jesus knew this too, and spoke of it.

Perhaps 6 or 7 years ago, my youngest girl and I were driving someplace, to accomplish some long forgotten chore or trip to the store. We had a conversation on that drive that I will never forget, and often remember. I will take this memory with me to the very last day I am here on this planet. But first, something about Dr. Hawking.

Dr. Hawking
Just the other day, I watched a video of Dr. Stephen Hawking speaking at the TED conference earlier this year in Monterey. Dr. Hawking, crippled by ALS, is, to me, a remarkable reflection of the sometimes elusive economy of God. I do not, for a moment understand why this great thinker, with such an amazing mind (and whimsical sense of humor), is confined to a wheelchair and only can communicate in an unbelievably arduous way. I am fascinated by this man.

At the TED conference, Dr. Hawking addressed the issue of whether we are alone in the Universe. Dr. Hawking estimates that there are no other alien life forms within a range of a few hundred million light years of earth. Remember, a light year is the distance it takes for light to travel in a year, and light travels at a speed of approximately 186,282 miles per second, in a vacuum, which is about 5,874,589,152,000 miles. Frankly, this is beyond the limits of my tiny brain.

The Ride
And so, the ride in the car with my daughter. It was just us two, on the way someplace in the family van. We had been discussing how long it takes to travel by plane to Grammie and Grandad's house in Toronto, Canada.

"Dad, how long does it take to fly to Grammie and Grandad's house?"

"Oh, about 4 hours, usually"

"And how long does it take to fly to New York City?"

"A little longer, maybe 5 hours"

"So what is the longest flight you can take in an airplane?"

"Well, that would probably be to Australia. It takes about 18 hours, I think."

"So, if you got on a plane, how long would it take to fly to Heaven?"

I was speechless. And for some reason, my eyes suddenly filled with tears, perhaps in the knowledge that I was experiencing, for just a moment, the impossible task of explaining the unexplainable. Maybe then, in that moment, I was faced with the task of defining the undefinable. I was overwhelmed.

I forget what I said in response. I still feel overwhelmed, a lot. Being a parent is like that. This is not business for the faint of heart, or of spirit.

In "Orthodoxy", GK Chesterton make the assertion that we should live our lives as if astonished by the world, each day. This resonates deeply with me.

I remain astonished by this world, and by the gifts he has given me in my children. They help me to see God, and how far it might be to travel to Heaven. Maybe not as far as I think.

Leisure, The Subway, and Music

Joshua Bell is one of the world's most accomplished violinists. He plays a violin made 1713 by Antonio Stradivari during the Italian master's "golden period," toward the end of his career, when he had access to the finest spruce, maple and willow, and when his technique had been refined to perfection. It is estimated Mr. Bell paid $3.5 million for it.

Gene Weingarten of the Washington Post just won a Pulitzer prize for a wonderful story he wrote about an experiment. Joshua Bell was asked to play his violin in the DC Metro - to see what would happen. The video is below.

This poem is quoted in the article, and sums up well the life most of us lead:

W. H. Davies
Leisure

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?—

No time to stand beneath the boughs,
And stare as long as sheep and cows:

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night:

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance:

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began?

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

Sad Day After

Three things.

First, congratulations to the amazing Memphis Tigers. They played with heart, determination, and blinding speed. They should be in the NBA.

Second, thank you Bruin basketball team for a great season, and thanks Ben Howland for exuding class in all you do.

Third. Kevin Love, be true to your school. Wouldn't it be nice.....if you were.

Singing Nazis - Am I in That Chorus?

Take a look at this photo. Click on it to enlarge. This is a long post, but stay with me.

Sunday School Epiphany
Last Sunday, this man, who teaches a Sunday school class I often attend, was teaching on Revelation 3, and in particular, he pointed out this verse as one of several that may have lent possible credence to the Nazis claim of superiority over the Jews, and contributed to the Holocaust.

And then, our teacher Dale showed us several photographs, including the one above. Nazi officers, in the midst of some of the worst genocide in the history of the planet, singing a song on a hillside, accompanied by an accordion. Amazing. Unbelievable.

For some reason, deep in my soul, I became immediately troubled. I was troubled in a very connected way, and it was not at all what I would have expected of myself. Years ago I visited some of the Death Camps, and I will never forget the feelings I had while there.

When seeing images like this, of Nazis singing in the midst of hell-on-earth, is, we might think to ourselves, "Oh, those bad, evil, dark people, how could they be like that."  Those people.  Over there.  And perhaps subtly, we then think, in the back of our minds, "Glad that is over with, I don't know if I could never be that evil".  Not me.

But not so this time, at least for me, in that Sunday school class. My thoughts were in an entirely different place. But first, a little background on the photos we were shown.


Karl Hoecker's Album
The following description is from The New Yorker, with a link posted below.

In June of 1945, an American Army officer discovered a photograph album in an abandoned apartment, in Frankfurt. The album had a hundred and sixteen photos, nearly all of them portraying Auschwitz officers enjoying recreational activities. In 2006, the officer offered the album to the Holocaust Memorial Museum, in Washington, D.C. There is only one other album, the Lili Jacob album, known to portray life at Auschwitz. When the officer’s album arrived at the museum, in January, 2007, Rebecca Erbelding, a museum archivist, quickly confirmed that the subject of several photos in the album was Richard Baer, the commandant of Auschwitz from May, 1944, to January, 1945. Soon, Erbelding and Ron Coleman, a reference librarian, identified another prominent officer in one of the photos—Josef Mengele, the doctor who’d conducted experiments on prisoners.
If the album consisted only of photographs of people who hadn’t been seen at Auschwitz, and of areas of Auschwitz that hadn’t been portrayed, or if it merely expanded the photographic record of Auschwitz, it would be valuable historically…but it has an enhanced value….In the fifty-four days between May 15 and July 8, 1944, a period partly covered in the Hoecker album, and called the Hungarian Deportation, four hundred and thirty-four thousand people were put aboard trains to Auschwitz—so many people that the crematoriums, which could dispose of a hundred and thirty-two thousand bodies a month, were overrun.”


What I Thought - My Epiphany
Now, back to the thought that rushed into my head, upon seeing these photos of singing Nazis. Singing, while only yards away, thousands were being gassed to death. Joyous and completely oblivious, uncaring. How was that possible? What was wrong with those people? Could they not feel anything? Where was their compassion? Were they devoid of souls?
And then, it hit me. In some way, I might be like those Nazis!

Perhaps I am not far from those men in the picture at all. My heart is often just as black. I am not superior. I am not better than they were. Not a bit.

Maybe I too, am singing while all hell is breaking loose. Darfur, Burma, inner city killing and crime, struggling teenagers in my own city.

What parts of my own life are like a singing Nazi? Where are the places where I could not give a crap about the suffering of others?

Am I just as clueless, and am I singing my life away, while others are suffering, and might I be able to make a difference?Pastor and author John Stott, in his most recent book, discusses the kinds of issues that should concern us, in caring for the suffering:

"According to UN statistics, the number of destitute people (who survive on less than 1 US dollar a day) is about a billion, while the average number who die every day of hunger and hunger-related causes, is said to be about 24,000. How can we live with these statistics?  Many of the poor are our brothers and sisters. The Holy Spirit gives his people a tender social conscience.  So those of us who live in affluent circumstances must simplify our economic situation - not because we imagine this will solve the world's macroeconomic problems but out of solidarity with the poor.

So then a living church is a caring church. Generosity has always been a characteristic of the people of God. Our God is a generous God; his church must be generous too."

I will be thinking about those photos of the Nazis for some time. A very long time.  This will stick with me.  Maybe I am mistaken, what do you think?


You can see selections of the Hoecker Album at The New Yorker magazine, here.

Say What You Need to Say

We are off to the desert for a couple days, the four of us. There might not be many more trips like this, before our oldest heads off to college next year.

I am so thankful for my family, and for this ride called life. I thought I should share this John Mayer song, set to clips of one of my favorite movies "The Bucket List". Its about having an abundant life....

Humility & Passion - Gustavo Dudamel

Last night we had the honor to attend Disney Hall, and experience the conducting of Gustavo Dudamel, the new (September 2009) conductor of the Los Angeles Philharmonic. The music was wonderful, the conducting passionate. I think I witnessed a visual representation of Joy.

What impressed me most was Mr. Dudamel's sense (at 27 years old) of his place on stage. Mr. Dudamel is a young phenom, and it would be easy for him to assume the roll of classical music conductor / rock star. But this is not what we saw at all.

Mr. Dudamel chose to conduct the final piece, Berlioz's "Symphonie fantastique", without sheet music. I was concerned he was trying to grand stand, and show the audience how much he knew. Not so at all. This was a young man who had, it seemed, literally crawled inside of a 50 minute piece, and let it become part of his soul.

The best part for me occurred after the music was over. What impressed me most was not the music, or the conducting, or the leadership of this young man. What left a mark on me was his great sense of humility, of his place in the orchestra. When the concert was over, and Mr. Dudamel came back on stage to take an encore bow, instead of standing alone in front of the orchestra, he moved several rows back into the orchestra, becoming a part of the greater whole. And then he turned around and motioned for many individuals, who had played beautiful parts during the concert, to stand, and receive their due. It was moving and wonderful - the probable classical conducting rock star standing aside, and giving way to the "little people" of the orchestra. It was beautiful. The best part occurred during the applause.

I am a Gustavo Dudamel fan. Count me in. This young man has the potential, if he can keep his sense of humility, to going far, and in doing so, blessing the world of classical music in Los Angeles for years to come. We are fortunate to have him. Welcome to LA, Gustavo.

For a wonderful peak into the character of this man, please, take a few minutes and watch the interview below. All my pastor friends need to watch this.....I think you will get it very easily, without any explanation needed. Not a bit.

Elite 8

After a rough second half against a never-say-die Western Kentucky, the Bruins have advanced to the Elite Eight. Next up, Xavier.

Gotta Love those Bruins. Pun intended






.

"Who is it you are looking for?"

Easter Week. An empty tomb.

"They have taken my Lord away," she said, "and I don't know where they have put him." At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus. "Woman," he said, "Why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?" Thinking he was the gardener, she said, "Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him." Jesus said to her, "Mary." She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, "Rabboni!" (which means Teacher). From John 20:14-16

Twenty centuries later, I ask myself. Who is it, or what is it that I am looking for?

For approval? Meaning? Importance? Recognition? Busy-ness? Wealth? Longevity? Comfort? Safety?

I wonder.

Ave Verum Corpus

The day between Good Friday and Easter. Darkness and death surrounding. Everywhere.

Surely our lives have felt this way. For many, it occurs too often.

Mozart wrote a setting of the death of Christ in June of 1791, less than six months before his own death.

Ave Verum Corpus - W.A. Mozart

Jesus, word of God incarnate.
Of the Virgin Mary born.
On the cross Thy sacred body
For us men with nails was torn.

Cleanse us by the blood and water
Streaming from Thy pierced side.
Feed us with Thy body broken.
Now, and in death's agony.

Not a Very Good Friday

Good Friday. What a name.

In the Holy Land, Good Friday is known as "Great Friday." In German it is "Karfreitag", an Old German word meaning "Friday of lamentation", although this meaning is not obvious to speakers of modern German. In Armenia it is called "High Friday (Ավագ Ուրբաթ)". In Russia it is called "Passion Friday" (Страстной Пяток / Страстная Пятница). In Ethiopia it is called Friday of the Crucifixion (arib siqilat).

I am going with the Germans and the Ethiopians. But really now. Its not so Good. Its tragic. Dark. The Ultimate Sadness.

But history, and the Bible tell me that something is coming.

On Sunday.

Just Too Cool; Flight Level 390

I just have to share with you one of my favorite blog stops. This is a blog written by a pilot (who remains anonymous) who, I assume, flys for Alaska airlines.

Forgive me my geekiness, but his posts are just about the coolest thing imaginable.

Add to that, I just found out last night that my younger lovely daughter will be attending school next year with another girl whose Dad lived three doors up the block from me when I was a little kid, now lives across the street from where we grew up, is the son of this guy and......wait for it.....is a pilot for American Airlines! Yes! Hello! That makes for some fun Father/Daughter dances for me.

Is there a TSA rule against a regular dude, who is friends with the pilot, riding jump seat in the cockpit on a flight?

I hope not, 'cause I am asking, pretty soon.

Anyway, Flight Level 390. Completely beyond awesome. Check it out.

In The Interest of Candor

Some people have blogs that make their lives look like they are simply full of happy days and hearts and flowers.

I think that is fake.

Today, I had a nice day at the office. Then, I came home.

I have been spending years trying to learn how be a calm, rational, non-explosive, affirming, lovely parent. I have read books, attended seminars, and yes (gasp!) even been in therapy. Lots.

I did not behave well with with my family tonight. Afterward, I needed to go for a long walk, to try to sort out both my feelings, and my failings. I came home after a while, and apologized. At nearly 50 years old, I am still working out what it means to be a good husband and father.

Its not easy. I need more work.

Just wanted to be honest here.

March Madness, Go Bruins!

After several close calls over USC, Cal, and Stanford, the Bruins are heading into the NCAA Tournament with one of four number one seeds.

Best of luck to the boys of Westwood!

The video below gives me chills; its for my friend Julie in Ohio. Remember the good ole' days, Jules?

This Ball Field, Moon and Sixpence, Home

This is Orange Grove Field in South Pasadena; the softball field where my two daugthers have played for the past 10 or so years. I love this place, and I have been thinking about why that is.

We came here after a couple of years of T-ball in another park, with little girls picking dandelions in right field and wondering what base to run to after they hit if off the tee. The biggest event of the game for the girls was, of course, the snack. I loved those years, perhaps more now than I did back then.

The Moon and Sixpence (1919) is a short novel by William Somerset Maugham based on the life of the painter Paul Gauguin. The story is told in episodic form by the first-person narrator as a series of glimpses into the mind and soul of the central character, Charles Strickland, a middle aged English stock broker who abandons his wife and children abruptly in order to pursue his desire to become an artist.

What does "The Moon and Sixpence", from 1919, have to do with playing softball on the clay infield and green grass of Orange Grove park in 2008? Listen to this quote from the book, and maybe you might understand a bit more.

"I have an idea that some men are born out of their due place. Accident has cast them amid certain surroundings, but they have always a nostalgia for a home they know not. They are strangers in their birthplace, and the leafy lanes they have known from childhood... remain but a place of passage. They may spend their whole lives aliens among their kindred and remain aloof among the only scenes they have ever known. Perhaps it is this sense of strangeness that sends men far and wide in the search for something permanent, to which they may attach themselves... Sometimes a man hits upon a place to which he mysteriously feels that he belongs. Here is the home he sought, and he will settle amid scenes that he has never seen before, among men he has never known, as though they were familiar to him from his birth. Here at last he finds rest."

That's it. All of life seems to be about the search for, the often and silent ache to know the way, and the journey toward... home. Strangely, when I hit the grass of Orange Grove, helping to coach girls softball, if feel as if I may have settled upon a place to which I mysteriously feel I belong. Perhaps this green grass, this subtle pink and blue sunset above me, is just a peek, a glimpse of Something More, and a place I will someday call Home. A final place to settle.

Someday, I will know that place. I will be Home, at last. At rest.

Until then, I cannot think of a better place to be on a fresh, cool, spring night than at this field, with these girls.

What Happens At Death's Door?

Jill Bolte Taylor is a brain researcher. A number of years ago, while still a young woman, she had a massive stroke. She very nearly died, but she experienced amazing things.

Here is her story, you need 19 minutes to watch it, but I think you will be glad you did. While her "energy" language is a bit new-agey for me, just substitute in Holy Spirit (which Jill does not acknowledge, but I suspect), and you will be good to go. Hers is a remarkable story.

Honesty and Worship

This just simply speaks for itself.

A New School

This weekend we learned that our younger daughter, Heather, will be attending Flintridge Sacred Heart Academy next fall.

About a year ago, Heather let us know that she would like to apply for private Catholic girls school. Frankly, she was feeling exhausted by the environment of public school, and needed a change. As her parents, we would have never predicted this from one of our kids; we have always believed that being a part of the local community; being invested, was what we wanted and really, who we were as a family. This will be a change for us, too.

And so, over the last year, we have all been on a journey - to see where God might be leading us all, together. Tutors, extra studying, entrance exams, and test preparation. Interviews. Test taking. More interviews. Applications. And then, waiting, and praying.

Nancy and I could not be more delighted about Heather's choice. She actually had a choice of two different private schools to attend, and we feel she has worked very hard toward a great goal, and has made a wonderful decision.

For those of you who might be worried, Heather will not be worshipping Mary daily. Everything we have learned about Sacred Heart has left us with a terrifically positive feeling; the spirit and grace of Christ was present in all our experiences.

It is so fun to watch our girls spread their wings. What an amazing ride.

The Hour of (Pot) Power

The other night I was at a dinner event, and a friend told me a true story that I thought I should relay here.

It turns out that a pastor of a church was, a number of years ago, called on the phone by the parents of a college-aged boy, who was attending college in the area. This boy's parents lived out of town, and they had become concerned, as their son, who had been raised in a Christian home, had reported that he was no longer attending church. The parents gave the pastor the phone number and address of their son.

They asked the pastor if he just might look in on their boy sometime, to see if he were doing alright. So, several weeks passed, and one Sunday, on the way home from church, the pastor decided to drop in at the college fraternity house of the boy.

As he ascended the steps to the porch of the fraternity house, he could see inside the living room, where he spotted four college guys, including the wayward son, all smoking rather generous quantities of cannabis, and huddled around the local afternoon broadcast of The Hour of Power. They watched in rapt attention, loudly agreeing together with the major points of the sermon. Hearty "amens", "oh, yah, mans!", and the occassional "dude!" could be heard through the window.

The pastor decided not to interrupt this time of interesting religious devotion, and reported later to the parents, "well, I stopped in on your son, and he was, in his own unique way, attending church".

Forgive me my sacrilege, but this story nearly made me wet my laundry.

The Right Reverand Rat

I have an old friend who is a pastor. His nickname is KC. But he is not your traditional pastor. The other day, this respected man of the cloth went to a local elementary school and donned a large literary rodent costume.

This is not a pastor who needs the respect of the local public. In fact, he wants to get a little disrespect, if it works for Kingdom purposes.

The other day I teased him about his rat costume, and his reply was rambling, but so good, I needed to quote him here. I have his permission:

"Not a professional (pastor) yet. No cheapening (of the gospel) here brother. Converts will come if I'm living my life like I'm forgiven in front of the world. A world where the church is "blowing chunks" (reference to the act of barfing) right now, and someone has to wear the dumb rat costume. My take? Go to where the people are. Next door. Meet them on the streets. Hang with them in their workplaces; Debbie's (his wife's public) school. Take them on long car rides to UCLA for kidney checkups, read to first and second graders and special ed. kids, so that the teachers get a 30 minute break in the midst of their hellish days. Work out with the people at the gym (24 Hour Fitness and Snap Fitness is an unreached mission field). Drink Starbucks with them. Be with them. Listen to them at Target, hear their struggles with the churches they attend. Go to barbecues, coach Little League with them. Christmas carol with them. Pray with them. Live like I'm forgiven and allow the Holy Spirit himself to do the intervening upon everyone I meet and greet, the souls in need of just a little bit of hope in the midst of a world that just isn't the greatest right now. Kingdom work even means wearing dumb rat costumes."

I wish I could hang more with my friend KC.

Dandelion - Antje Duvekot

My wife is away in Texas visiting friends. I am home with my two teenager daughters. We are having a fun time, just us three, as the family dynamic changes when Mom is away. We all miss Mom, but are enjoying a change of pace. The quality of the food has definately declined.

One of the best things about teenage girls is the new world they expose you to. Today, I learned about Antje Duvekot, a folk singer who moved to the US from Germany at 14. She is remarkable.

I am thankful beyond words for these girls that God has loaned us for a just a little bit longer, and for new little blessings and discoveries.

Come to think of it, these girls that live with us now, they are like dandelions, they will soon blow away. May I be able to watch it happen with bittersweet joy and sorrow, mixed together.

For the lyrics to this song, go here.

The Music of Freedom

I have been following with great interest the recent visit of the New York Philharmonic to North Korea. I have read a lot about this performance, both pro and con. I think my fascination in this stems from my own visits to Eastern Europe, prior to the fall of Communism, more than 20 years ago.


I remember those visits so starkly; the contrast of oppression and freedom, darkness and light. The bland expanses of centrally planned Eastern Block architecture, the attempts to immortalize communist leaders, and the looks of resignation on the faces of the people we saw, these are the memories I will never forget.

Today, North Korea, with its highly centralized system and tight controls on the daily lives of its people, remains firmly in the grip of its leader, Kim Jong-il. He and his father, Kim Il-sung, are the subjects of a personality cult that requires portraits in every home and their images on lapel pins on the jackets of every official. Huge statues of the older Kim dominate cities (shown above, click to enlarge). The state operates what human rights experts say is a vast gulag of labor camps, many filled with the ideologically suspect and their families.

Into this comes the New York Philharmonic, playing the music of Freedom. Dvorak's New World Symphony, and George Gershwin's "American in Paris." Dvorak's New World symphony has always been quite moving to me; I think it speaks of freedom. It was written by the composer while here in the US between 1892 and 1895. For more details see this.

Lorin Maazel, the Music Director of the New York Philharmonic wrote recently:

"It is a role of the highest possible order: bringing peoples and their cultures together on common ground, where the roots of peaceful interchange can imperceptibly but irrevocably take hold. If all goes well, the presence of the New York Philharmonic in Pyongyang might gently influence the perception of our country there. If we are gradually to improve U.S.-Korean relations, such events have the potential to nudge open a door that has been closed too long."

I have posted a clip of the actual PyongYang concert below - it is haunting to watch the elite of a totalitarian state listen to music composed in the Land of the Free.

The music of freedom. Millions still long to hear it in their hearts. My prayer is that someday, like the millions of Eastern Europe, freedom might ring throughout the Korean peninsula. Until then, listen for the music of freedom.

Of Professors and Regular Folks

The previous post below, and an experience the other night, have me thinking again about what it means to form meaningful Christian community in today's world.

One thing I do know. Following Jesus, and having lives that make Him attractive to others today, is in no way similar to the way people did it in 1950, 1970, or in 2000, for that matter. Change is persistent; it will not go away. I have been thinking about this for a long time now. And if you want to see a small peek of what change is looking like, look in the post below.

Professors' Thoughts
There is a little quote by a well respected theologian and professor that fits this idea well:

"…so much ministerial training has focused on caring for the flock of God and on maintaining the “shop”. So much of our traditional theological agenda has been shaped by a Christendom-context mentality and has been largely confined to an internal debate between various theological factions. A missional theology, on the other hand, focuses on dialogue with unbelievers and those of other religions."

Listening Well to Regular People
I am currently involved in the beginnings of a number of conversations in the life of our church, that will hopefully begin the process of leading us where God may be calling us to go in the future. And that will likely be a very new place, something very different from where we are now. As in completely different; not in the Christ we worship and serve, but in the way we do those things.

Over the past several weeks, we have been gathering groups across generational lines and typical groupings, to discover what God might be saying in our midst. Now listen to what these folks are saying:

"Most people don’t know their neighbors where they live and work. In terms of church, it seems that a certain type of person comes to this church. I don’t feel like the immediate neighborhood is interested in this church – we attract a certain maturity and educational level – there is not anything wrong with this – and we may not need to knock on the neighbor’s doors.

But what is an active role in the life of the church? What does that mean? Does it mean that everyone needs to take an active role in the life of the church? Is three hours a week on Sunday, and 1.5 hours in the middle of the week an “active role”? Different people have different levels of vesting their involvement in the church. Sometimes a church is like a hospital, where others are nourished and fed. Not everyone who comes here is happy and fulfilled – perhaps a "church" is a place that extends beyond the “life of the church”.

How is the life of the church defined? I find it alarming, that peoples’ only involvement in the life of the church is on Sunday. And there is a significant difference in the lifestyle of the younger and older generation. Older generation is committed marriages, long term relationships, but the younger generation is often disconnected, single parents, lack of ability to make commitments. There is a huge generational shift occurring, and how do we make this work. How do we make this equitable? How do we do mentorship; connecting generations?"

I find this all fascinating, that a seminary professor, writing several years ago in Pasadena, knew what might be in the mind of a lay person at a church in Hollywood several years in the future. Hmmm. Wonder if God is up to something here?

Students Today

Alright. Stop. Watch this video. Twice. Maybe more times.

This, my friends, is the future. Deal with it.

Officer Down, Randy Simmons

He was only a year older than me.

He was a hero.

He loved Jesus with all his heart, and his life displayed it, consistently.

And now, he is gone. The entire City of Angels is something less because of this loss.

I will be praying for grace, peace and mercy for his dear family.

Mr. Lincoln

Today is Abraham Lincoln's birthday.

This piece came on KUSC this morning, as Nancy and I awoke. What an appropriate way to start this day.

This piece was composed by the legendary (and one of my favorite) American composer, Aaron Copeland, and was performed by the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra, under the direction of Zubin Mehta. The narrator is actor Gregory Peck.

This man Lincoln, and this moving piece, are two more reasons I am proud to be an American.

Majesty Above 10,000 Feet

Posted below is the reason why I love to fly......it is just amazing to me. Perhaps its in my genetics, as my Dad was a B-17 pilot. It is beyond me how anyone can book a flight and not ask for a window seat.

My Town, Samaria, Jesus, and Me

When theory and reality intersect, sometimes not much happens. At least that is my experience. I think about this a lot.

I have been a follower of Christ for the past 28 years. I have lived in the same town for the past 27 years. And I can count on one hand the times that where I live and what I believe have intersected.

I am wondering if anyone else has experienced this. Our church is 13 miles (and anywhere from 20 minutes to 45 minutes, depending on the lovely LA traffic) from our home. And, it seems, never the twain shall meet.

My church life is entirely divorced from my life in my local community. Why is this? Perhaps its because for the past almost 20 years of our married life together, our family has attended what used to be a mega-commuter church in Hollywood. This has been a church that over the years morphed from a church that drew its congregants from both near and far into a city church that now largely draws its folks from far, typically beyond 5 miles away, and often as far away as 25 miles.

Perhaps another significant factor is the way our culture works. Church life and civic life seem greatly disconnected. I long for a life that feels more integrated, where who I am on the inside is more connected to where I live, and how I interact with people.

Maybe its because life here in a larger city is just that way. Disconnected. Disjointed pieces never moving in a coherent pattern. I have my work life, my family life, and my church life; but they never really connect in a way that makes sense, or seems a unified whole. There is no meshing of home, work, and church.

I dislike this greatly, and it often makes me feel as if my faith is somehow, well, fake. I feel like this person who reads lots of books, thinks lots of thoughts, does the "church thing" but never really has a chance to live out the concepts and ideas in a lifestyle that gives real and deep meaning and purpose to the basic core of the faith.

My thoughts in this regard are not fully formed. But I know something is not altogether right, and I want to work toward a way (and a life) that is different than status quo now.

The sharing of these thoughts was instigated by my reading of Tim Stafford's most recent article in Christianity Today; a thoughtful comment upon the life of Christ following folk in current times. Take a look, it might shed more light than my ramblings.

Am I making any sense here? Does anyone else experience this?

St. Olaf Choir - Remarkable Music

They are 68 strong, they hail from a small northern Mid-Western college, and they are (save for two members) all very white.

But they can sing like you are standing at the Gates of Heaven. I swear it.

I first heard of the St.Olaf College Choir in December, when I saw their Christmas concert on PBS. And then, later that month, Nancy spotted a small add in a local newspaper that they would be on tour and stopping right next door in Pasadena.

And so, last Tuesday night, in the company of dear 20+ year friends Jeff & Sparky and Jamie & Polly, off we went to hear the Mid-Western white kids sing.

And sing, they did! The concert, in a word: amazing.

Powerful, subtle, moving, engaging, wonderful. Choral music is by no means a dead art. I promise you. At one point I was moved to tears by a choral treatment of Robert Frost's, The Pasture:

I’m going out to clean the pasture spring;
I’ll only stop to rake the leaves away
(And wait to watch the water clear, I may):
I sha’n’t be gone long.—You come too.

I’m going out to fetch the little calf
That’s standing by the mother. It’s so young,
It totters when she licks it with her tongue.
I sha’n’t be gone long.—You come too.

You come too, indeed. Words of a simple rural life, so long gone from where I live today, busily hurrying through my urban life. Flying here and there, things to accomplish. Sometimes, I think I would rather clean the pasture spring.

Just a peek more at the St. Olaf's choir is found below, in a treatment of Mark Jennings "O Crux" (O Cross). I could not find the english translation from the Latin, but watch this, I think you will be blessed.

George

His name was George. He never missed a church committee meeting, or a potluck dinner, his weekly Sunday school class, or anything at church, for that matter. Nothing. He was there for everything. Part of the landscape. A fixture. It had been that way for years.

But to me, George was much more than just a fixture. He was a pain in my rear end.

You see, by fate, or Divine Providence, George and I seemed to end up involved in the same activities at church all the time. Constantly. I could not avoid him. Have you ever met someone who has an opinion about everything, whether you want to hear it or not? Someone who seems to act as if they might be the only person alive? A man who is easily hurt, constantly annoyed, and permanently angry. Joyless. Ever met someone like that?

I've heard others say he sould be medicated. Immature and annoying some might say. Unbalanced, say others. Completely annoying, many say. George would easily tell you about all the faults, shortcomings, and inabilities of others; but never imagine that he might have some faults of his own. His picture should have been next to "tedious" in the dictionary.

But a man like George does not merely evolve out of nothing. There was something distinctive about George. It was his past. His life had been one of nearly constant struggle and enough emotional pain for several people. Broken marriages, disconnected family. When you took a bit of time to hear his story, if only in outline form, all the crankiness, all the negativity, all the medling behavior makes much more sense. It was as if the sum total of all the pain, loss, and long suffering in his life had etched itself upon George's soul, and was constantly clawing to get out. Pain always there, without hope for removal, save for Heaven.

Given his past, it was a wonder that George even showed up, at of all places, our church. And yet, there he was every week, in the same pew, holding fast to a faith in Jesus that was muted through a cranky and painful exterior. Figuring out his Belief, right there next to the rest of us. Together.

A while back, I was placed on a committee with George for a very long time. We met often enough that George worked his way into my skin. His neediness, his complaining, his sour outlook on life wore me nearly completely down. There were nights when I would get in my car after our meetings and wonder what in the world I was doing on this stupid committee. I could have been home, for heaven's sake! Some nights, I would get to my car, hit the freeway ramp home, and scream as loud as I could, just to release the energy of frustration I was feeling from having to deal with ...... George.

And then, one particularly late committee meeting night, as I drove home feeling frustrated yet again, I was struck by something. Call it a thought from God, maybe. I'm still not sure.

I thought to myself of exactly where both George and I would be heading home to that night; and the contrast of the two. I was heading home to a house with two lovely little daughters, a wonderful wife, a chocolate labrador, and a cat. All sleeping when I came in the door, close to midnight. A home. Full of people and love and blessing, laughter and life; but quiet now, in the dark. The happy ending of the movie.

George, on the other hand, would pack himself up in his ancient import car, and ride home to a small apartment in a not-so-great part of town where he lived, alone. With his thoughts, his loneliness, and a 15 year old color TV. Not much else. Alone.

And then, as I sped down the freeway, another thought occurred to me. I remember somewhere in the Bible it said something about "bearing others burdens". Becoming Christ for others.

What might that look like, if I did that? If I became more familiar with the life of another that did not look like or turn out like mine has, at least so far? Spending time with a person who would be last on my list of people to hang with. What if I gave of myself, rather than enjoying my warm and comfy place of annoyance at the behavior of others? What might it be like if I became more like Jesus? For George.

I wondered.

George grew ill, and stopped coming to church. I never got to find out about my questions of getting to know George better.

I still feel the shame.

Some Things Speak for Themselves

This is what beautiful sounds like.

Everything Must Change - Book Review

Brian McClaren has a new book, which I have just finished reading. I have been interested in the things Mr. McClaren has had to offer over the last several years. While I am aware he has a number of both critics and admirers, I really wanted to see what was on his mind in this book, particularly after hearing a compelling interview here.

After reading this book, I have several conflicting thoughts. Please remember, this is from the mind of a 49-year old white guy from the suburbs who has not voted Democrat since Jimmy Carter. What do I know?

Helpful Critique of The Church

Mr. McClaren offers a very insightful and helpful critique of the modern church, and the surreal way in which Christian-think has become mixed up in conservative politics. This whole thing bothers me a great deal, as the older I get the less I think that any of us who follow Christ can shrink wrap him into our way of looking at the world as Democrat or Republican. Given this, what is said in the opening chapters of this book is very helpful. We all need more of this constructive criticism.

Of particular value is McClaren's thoughts on the way that we have misunderstood the message of who Jesus is. Suffice it to say there is much to think about how we might "reframe" our view of Jesus here. Change here is needed; we believing folk should make this a priority. The decline of the Western church is evidence that our old model is not working. I am totally in with this form of thinking.

A Mass of Criticism
After the early chapters, Mr. McClaren ventures into the deep water of politics, economics, international affairs, and the military history of the United States.

I find myself often wondering during these chapters if the author is in over his head. While his ideas are good, and also faithful to Scripture in many ways, they seem, at the end, to be idealistic, and frankly detached from reality. I shudder to think what would have happened with Mr. McClaren at the helm of US foreign policy over the past decade, most particularly in the face of 9/11. Be very careful when mixing theology and politics, this is very choppy water indeed.

I will admit that much is and has been wrong with the way the US has acted in relation to other countries, and our sense of imperialism over the past century.

However, after several chapters of predictable screeds against our country's behavior, I wonder again, what would Mr. McClaren have done with the brutally oppressive Taliban in the aftermath of the attacks on the US? See: The Kite Runner. Should we have sent over diplomats to talk about our feelings; how we had been deeply hurt by the "damage" brought upon our country? About how, perhaps, these attacks had really been our fault, because of our oppressive behavior? I wonder. While I struggle with much of the military posturing of our country, the world is still menanced by bad people, and no amount of happy thinking seems to be able to change this.

Mr. McClaren reminds me of utopian urban planners, with whom I have to deal often in my work. They love the idea of "mixed use" projects with residential and commercial uses placed neatly together. However, guess what? Many times these mixtures are financial disasters; they simply do not work in the real world. I can prove it to you numerically. I think the same ideology applies to other things in life. Urban planners need to spend some time with those who actually need to show their developments must make money. Shocking, I know. Not all militarists are evil, some like their kids and care about others.

That offered, I think McClaren has much to offer about the way we view money. Our consumer culture needs healing, and there is much good thinking here!

Nowhere to Go - Vague Suggestions
The final portion of this book is long on hints and short on practical response. I felt as if I was offered a book thick with complaints, and short on suggestions and solutions. How shall I then live, please?!

If the dominant world view is so messed up, where do I, as a believer who wants to make a difference turn? Where are the centers of hope in the world, where are the opportunities to make a change? Please, Mr. McClaren, tell me stories of transformation and of hope, of renewal and rebirth. I want to hear them.

I am not just a shallow white guy who wants to stay comfortable. I would like to think about this sort of thing more. Or do I need to wait for your next book? If that is the case, I call foul.

Ok, so that is what my tiny mind thinks. But there is far more in the blogsphere to look at and think about. Much smarter people than me. If you struggle like I do with this sort of thing, go look!

George Will - One of My Favorites

Since what is in George Will's mind is far more interesting than what is typically inside my head, I will give you some highlights from a recent speech by Mr. Will:

I write about politics to support my baseball habit.
If the Democrats can’t win the presidency this year, they have to get out of politics.
2008 is the first year when profits of Fortune 500 companies will be less than their healthcare outlays.
The thing that worries me is the entitlement mentality produced by a welfare state. 40% of the American public changes jobs every year.
Economic illiteracy leads to economic hypochondria.
We know how to manage our economy — keep inflation out of it and stand back.
The economy is doing rather well but its not acceptable to say that.
Americans feel entitled to uninterrupted prosperity.
Evian water is $180 a barrel.
Economic illiteracy will kill us.
People feel entitled to incompatible things
A recession is often a correct thing to happen.
Every American feels entitled to sue someone even if it’s the result of his or her own imbecilic choice.
Envy is the only one of the seven deadly sins that doesn’t give someone even temporary pleasure.
Today the great source of wealth is the mind — human capital.
Anyone willing to do what you have to do to be president should be disqualified.

What is Real Beauty?

I have two daughters. This is very important to me. Watch it.
Then, go read this book. Its a very important book you really must read, if you are raising girls.

The Bucket List - Go See This Movie!

What things would you do....if you knew you only had months to live? And, would your station in life dictate what you could or would do? Would you wonder about yourself, your journey through life, and about what it is all about? Would you wonder about God? Would you make things right with those whom you may have hurt? Would you leave earth with "your eyes closed, and your heart open"?

Nancy and I went to the movies today, and had the wonderful opportunity to think about all these things. Given the loss of my Mom and Dad during the past two years, this was an emotional film for me, and a wonderful opportunity to reflect yet again on what makes this life such an amazing ride.

Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson combine to pull off this movie with grace and charm, complimenting each other all the way along. My favorite moment comes as Jack and Morgan are flying to Italy on he polar route at night. Its a full moon out, and Morgan comments on the wonder of Creation. This leads to a remarkable conversation between someone who believes and someone who does not that I loved. Its honest and real. In the end, Morgan's summary comment is, "Yes, but I believe". Simple, yet wonderful.

Go see this movie..... immediately.




From "Say" by John Mayer......theme to the movie, "Bucket List"

Have no fear for giving in
Have no fear for getting older
You better know that in the end its better to say too much
Than to never to say what you need to say again
Even if your hands are shaking
And your faith is broken
Even as the eyes are closing
Do it with a heart wide open
Why? Say what you need to say

Shallow Christians & The New Monastics

Today's LA Times has an interesting, fair, and thoughtful article on The New Monastics.

I found this article interesting and refreshing, having known this form of faith expression for a number of years, both through my church and the urban ministries it has birthed, and in the larger community of Los Angeles.

Thankfully, the writer was careful to describe the real journey, and not detour into yet another patronistic view of well-meaning Christian folk. Thank you, Stephanie Simon.

Two things struck me from my reading. First, it seems this well-meaning bad of believers in Montana formed their new Christian community out of a sense of deep disconnection and disaffection with the Christian Church. Well then, lets chalk another one up for the great accomplishments of modern organized religion. Well meaning, serious people, those seeking after God, who feel isolated and disconnnected from the church. Does this theme feel familiar?

Had the local church been doing more to meet the needs of these young families and singles, perhaps the desire to form a monastic community would have taken an entirely different form. Maybe a community of Believers formed organically from out of the church body, young and old, married and single, rich and poor. Or a different way to live together, perhaps not in the same home, but with shared and intentional lives. Idealistic maybe, but interesting to ponder.

Secondly, I was impressed by the need for rules and order, and the struggle to complete daily tasks, even in this little community. It felt like being single and just out of college all over again. The annoying roommate who never cleans up, the undone dishes, the empty fridge. Add to this the complication of little kids, single and married people living together, and you have the ingredients for a relational mess. Tough stuff, this living out the Kingdom of God on earth!

But again, lurking subtly in the background is the failing of the organized church to provided meaningful relationship, authentic community, and a new way of living. I have also experienced Christian community that leaves me feeling sad, wanting more, unsatisfied. Friendships and relationships that once seemed so important so crucial, yet over time turn out to be not much better than what the rest of the world has to offer. Yet, I have also enjoyed deep and abiding friendships in the church that are of greater meaning than I could have imagined. Where are the real answers to these big questions of community, I wonder?

It makes me sad. The Bride of Christ, looking poorly dressed, yet again.

Is there a better way, a way to connect our lives in a more meaningful way? What does real Christian community look like? I wonder, and I hope.

Bruin Good News

After a painful basketball loss to USC earlier this week, I need something to cheer myself up.

I got it, and in short order. It seems that Norm Chow, the former offensive coordinator at USC, and the artist behind a number of great Heisman Trophy winners, is going to become the new offense coach at UCLA!

Can you hear my evil laugh? Bwaaaa Hahaha!

Nite Nite Mr. Bill

Pangea Day - May 10, 2008

Get ready. This could be amazing.

Heading Home

Business Trip - Boston

At left, above the "Big Dig".

I feel like a man from the land of plastic architecture. Disneyland. Suburban Instant Utopia - just add water.

Lets admit it, people from the West Coast are hopelessly disconnected from American History.

To prove it to yourself, just visit Boston.

My meetings were done today at 3 PM, and I took myself on a long self-guided tour of downtown Boston, ending at Boston Commons and Park Street Church (looks very cool). Right behind Park Street church is Granary Burial Ground.

I was reading the Park Service information signs, learning of the remarkable people from American history who are buried there. I finished reading, turned around and was facing the grave of Paul Revere!

This town is amazing. And so is our nation. To whom much has been given.....