I'm not sure which is more of an appropriate indicator of the way the past year has unfolded for me: that I'm getting to my annual writeup six days late, or that I'm watching Wednesday's service tonight as I type this out.

Suffice it to say, the past year has been something of a different period of time compared to the first three at Lakewood. For starters, I've opted to shift my seating arrangement around, so I'm less wedded to getting the loudest possible intake of worship as well as a proximate enough view of whoever's preaching. The workload has grown and grown and I've yet to fight that off. It's not just the timed amount of work, but the type of work that's changing. Adding to the list, there's this nagging feeling that I'm running out of useful reading material at the bookstore - I can't tell you how much time I've lost to unfruitful Amazon searches for something that may not have been on my radar.

So, in short, it's been a year of change. Changes in the way God's word is celebrated, studied, and read. Changes in the way community is sought, cultivated ... and probably even defined for my sake. I'd love to say it's all gone smooth as silk, but I'd be lying. And that'd be wrong of me to do ;-) It has, to say the least, been a great year of learning, though. And I suppose that's the point God would prefer to drill into my head.

In some ways, I guess I've taken the message to get out of our comfort zone and stretch out in some new directions. So that's how your introverted blogger who would just as soon point out some nifty wordsmithing from a book or highlight some brief moment of the worship service to remember fondly ... is now facilitating a more-or-less regular movie night for Koinonia, giving a decent rookie try at teaching a brief 5-minute lesson for Koinonia, and probably doing a few other assorted things of that sort that really aren't in my DNA.

In other ways, it definitely feels a little as if I'm clawing my way back to my comfort zone. More often then not recently, it seems I'm taking in service upstairs in the Loft, via ye olde internet and a few big screen projectors. Amazingly, there's a small community of folks who now look forward to that. It's a lot of fun and the legroom is terrific. If I really feel led to do some attentive reading along with some of the music, I don't feel like I'm cheating. And during sermons, I don't close my eyes in order to replicate my usual sermon podcast listening routine. Even during Koinonia, there seems to be a terrific community of people who just seem to find me wherever I'm hiding behind the video gear.

Two challenges from the past year that warrant a few words are these:

One, I definitely still feel like I'm on a bit of a reading slump. My bookshelf has gotten a bit more academic (the NT Wright procurement here is symptomatic of that). I'm making my way through less and less of books, but more and more of the news material that the dayjob demands. It used to be that I did so much online at the office, I didn't want to spend a lot of time online while at home. Now that dichotomy seems to be at work in my reading habits. It's a struggle. It's definitely not the change in content that's keeping me away, though I did swim right through Greg Boyd's latest book, plus a handful other work-related books. But those are definitely exceptions.

Two, I had the distinct "pleasure" of going through my first presidential election campaign during the past year. I tell ya ... you just haven't lived until you've done that. I've generally limited my own commentary in this blog to matters of church and state distinctions and have made no secret that I share quite a bit of the views Greg Boyd expresses in "Myth of a Christian Nation." Generally speaking, I don't confuse my opinion of worldly matters with the truth of God's word. Nor do I try and fit the infinite depth of His love onto the head of the needle that is our own worldview. Not surprisingly, there are those at church who believe it to be their mission to do quite the opposite. That includes several people that I dearly love in my warped little Lakewood community. It can be irritating, it can be maddening, and it's exactly the sort of thing that kept me in a state of unease about finding a church home for many years. But there's a reason why God puts you in those type of situations. And roughly half of the time, I seem to appreciate it on precisely that level.

I don't know that it's entirely appropriate to suggest that these challenges are ever really placed behind me. There will always be a search to find some new way to absorb God's word in a way that breaks the tedium of repetition and soundbites. I've gone back to read several books for a second or third time and rarely found them as enjoyable as the first. But so far, I go back to Isaiah 55 every once in a while and it's still as refreshing a read as I recall the first time. I may find myself getting a bit sluggish listening to Greg Boyd going section by section with Luke and read the entire thing in full ... only to realize that as fun a read as it was, that I really couldn't wait for the next Boyd sermon to take a passage even deeper. So far, so good.

And there will probably always be differences of opinion of just about everything under the sun (political or otherwise) at Lakewood and other churches. All a simple reminder that we're merely human and that our call is to recognize our own failings when we think we see the failings in others. I'm grateful enough to have friends and co-workers who take me for what I am - an occasionally obnoxious know-it-all who fails to go through life dispassionately or quietly while I recognize there is so much repair work to be done on myself as well as the world around me (and believe me, that's the order I prefer to work). So far, so good.

One very annoying sidenote to add, though. And I add this simply to scold myself and hopefully shame myself into doing better for the remainder of this calendar year. I mentioned in my Year Three, that I had a habit of keeping a notebook for scribbing sermon notes from whatever batch of sermons I listen to in a given week. I have to say that the first half of this calendar year has been nothing short of a disaster in keeping that routine going. On a good day, I'm catching up by just logging sermon titles from weeks past in order to give some semblance to being "caught up."

But it's not just the notebook. It's the fact that it's Thursday as I write and I still haven't listened to the Greg Boyd sermon I downloaded on Monday. Used to be, that was an automatic for listening to on Monday night. I've also not listened to the latest podcast of Rob Bell, Rich Nathan, Joel Hunter and ... jeesh, I don't even remember the last Ken Wilson sermon I listened to. The routine is a disaster. Let's just leave it at that for now.

It really goes part and parcel along with being in a reading funk. There's just more on my agenda and that's the task God has put before me. I don't really want to complain about it, but I do feel obliged to lament things, somewhat. It has the cumulative effect of making me long for the day a gazillion dollars lands in my lap and I can go buy a nice home out in the woods and raise a handful of basset hounds who are capable of entertaining themselves for hours on end while I catch up on everything else I want to do in life. Instead, God has his own plan at work.

Lamentation over. Time to get back to the job at hand.

Sometimes, it's easy to think of our "spiritual growth" in terms of the things we do around church ... the Bible reading, the occasional book from the Christian book store, saying all the proper Christian buzzwords around all of our good Christian friends. I'm pretty sure that's not my mission in life. I'm fairly sure things are meant to be a little messier than that. So far, so good.

Wow ... apparently, Joel Osteen Ministries is going into a similar category that Rob Bell has popularized. This is the first short video from Greenlight Hope Films, "a new extension of Joel Osteen Ministries."

Very nice!

I've been entrusted with the microphone at Koinonia for July 18th. As part of our message series on Joel's book, Become a Better You, I'll be giving a brief message on Chapter 15, "Being Nice to People," before turning things over to the small group leaders to discuss. So, between now and then, I'm going to just throw some of my notes on the blog.

One obvious starting point for what I expect to talk about is from the book of John (Message version) ...

John 13:34-35

^34-35 "Let me give you a new command: Love one another. In the same way I loved you, you love one another. This is how everyone will recognize that you are my disciples--when they see the love you have for each other."

The first part of this short passage is vaguely familiar since it resonates with Mark 12:29-31, "Love your neighbor as yourself." The last part of the line from John, I suspect, is less familiar.

Put another way, the only way people will recognize us as a disciple of Christ will be by the way we show love to others. That's something you can't fake with insincerity. It's something we will fail to show if you think any good deeds you do need to be a full public display. It is something we will struggle with. The following lines from John continue with Peter telling Jesus that he would lay down his life for Jesus. Jesus goes on to tell him that he will, in fact, deny Christ.

I think more than just being prophetic, what Jesus is really saying here is that the type of love we're called to bring into the world will not happen as easily as we may think. We can expect to struggle with this commandment. We can expect to practice it very clumsily. But it's all part of the path we're on.

More later on this series. I'm guessing that I'll end up having about 90-minutes worth of material that I'll need to whittle down to about 5 minutes for the sake of having an audience sit still for my part of the show. As always, your own response, reaction, and insights are more than welcome as I think up ways to condense so much material.

While Grapevine's Ed Young gets some interesting (in a good way) publicity for his latest sermons, I get a reminder of why it is that I prefer Greg Boyd's sermons a bit more. Here's the title of his latest: "Revolting Against Normal"

I suppose it's just a matter of taste and/or style.

One sidenote from Ed Young's sermons ...

Mr. Young, known simply as Ed to his parishioners, and his wife, both 47, have been married for 26 years and have four children, including twins. They have firsthand experience with some of the barriers to an intimate sex life in marriage, including careers, exhaustion, outside commitments, and "kids," a word that Mr. Young told church members stands for "keeping intimacy at a distance successfully."

But if you make the time to have sex, it will bring you closer to your spouse and to God, he has said. You will perform better at work, leave a loving legacy for your children to follow and may even prevent an extramarital affair.

"If you've said, 'I do,' do it," he said. As for single people, "I don't know, try eating chocolate cake," he said.

I'm not sure that helps me much in the way his advice to married couples is supposed to help them, but it does give me a few late afternoon snacking ideas. Being single in church isn't the toughest thing in the world, so I won't register this as a complaint. But there's a sense of celebration about marriage and children that does at least put some of us on the proverbial sidelines. Even if only for a sermon or two.

It's impossible to be everything to everyone all at the same time. And there is a great deal of worth in celebrating marriage and birth ... even if they're those of others. But it's just as good - I suggest - to know that revolting against normal also has it's place.

I realize I've committed to putting down a few pithy thoughts about this third Lakewood-iversary. And yet, I'm a bit bogged down from a long day of work with a lot on the workload in front of me. Seems about par for the course this year and I can name about a million worse problems to have. So, at three, it stands to be a good time to consider the changes on display at both Lakewood, myself, and maybe even this little blog. Technically, the blogiversary around here is in two months, though. So I'll try and keep it light there.

In a way, I find it a bit odd that, despite Joel preaching some time ago on the need to place reminders of milestones so that accomplishments aren't forgotten, that Lakewood doesn't really give any overt mention of this particular moment. I fully realize the fact that I do so because it coincides with my own personal Lakewood-iversary on Grand Opening Sunday around this time in 2005. "Give us a year of your life and you'll never be the same" we're told. I'll second that and add that three is even better.

I think that it may be time to just admit to being something between change-resistant and change-embracing for my sake. Maybe "change-dysfunctional." On the one hand, looking and thinking back at services from years ago, there's an aspect of them that seems almost antiquated ... while still recognizing what it was that I loved so much about it at the time. Dakri high-jumping around stage, a rotation of special performances that seemed limited to just Aimee, Carrie & the occasional Jemine, listening to Cindy sing on Wednesdays, a pacing of Joel's sermons that I had down pat - to the point I could set my watch. Maybe the last one hasn't changed, but the trappings around that seem to have done so. And the change has been for the good.

We get to see more of the kids; there's more talent rotating through the ensembles - both on Wednesday and the weekend; there's a few more recorded projects from Lakewood folks in the pipeline. All good things.

As for me, I'm at a point where I'm happy with the volunteer gig and I think I've managed to deal with the sense of being rushed on Saturdays that I once had a bit of an issue with. And still, while the Koinonia gang adds and subtracts it's own over the span of time, I get the sense that I have the mutual feeling of being both an old-timer who knows everyone as well as the more isolated feeling of hanging out in the AV booth most of the time, with many of the newer people probably thinking I work for Lakewood.

Ultimately, with me, things tend to evolve to a more intellectual point over time. So the still-growing list of podcasts is something that I only see getting worse. Unless I learn to just do away with any TV time, scale down the work hours, and maybe cut into the time needed to get my music fix. It just strikes me as odd that within the range of relatively conservative theological terrain, there's not as much effort made to develop the intellectual/academic side of that view of God. And as grateful as I am to people such as Greg Boyd, Rob Bell, NT Wright, and others for filling that void - seeing the reaction they get by some within evangelical circles takes a bit off the encouragement that's derived from them. A part of that quest is what led to this fair blog, of course. And that continues unabated, with no end in sight.

One bit of Greg-trivia for those keeping score at home. I keep an old-fashioned wire-bound notebook handy for central storage of any sermon notes or whatever thoughts come to mind from what I'm reading. Inevitably, the notebook has the shelf-life of a New Years resolution. Before the calendar year starts, I'm shopping for whatever notebook that makes the best possible statement I care to make.

In year one, it was a run-of-the-mill, basic 70-page spiral notebook. The lowest common denominator of all notebooks. The reasoning for this is that I didn't want something so fancy that I would be cautious with what I wrote. I got a stack of 10 of 'em just in case. Went through almost all of them. On a good day, I can probably even locate a few around the house. Almost everything was just from Lakewood sermons and Bible study. The routine wasn't as great as it should have been. Sometimes weeks would go by with nothing. Sometimes I'd lose a notebook. Sometimes I couldn't find the one I was working with at the time and just grabbed another blank one.

Year two, I took it up a notch and got a nicer, bigger notebook. Thinking I had this down, I felt it was worthwhile to get some tools of the trade that reflected a bit more of the pride that went into the endeavor. And about halfway through the year, it really struck me as a pain to lug a big notebook around like that. So I went to a smaller, but still nice notebook. but by that time, the routine wasn't there. And reading things on the smaller pages didn't really look all that impressive to me.

So this past year, I've been working from a larger, yet basic spiral notebook. Figured I'd need more pages to cover the greater amount of content I was wanting to keep tabs on. And still, about halfway through the year, I'm about two weeks behind. Several weeks just have a listing of the podcasts from that week and little else.

It strikes me as simple that there exists this wonderful thing called blog technology that might alleviate this challenge, but I guess I'm old school enough that I still appreciate the actual practice of writing something out, seeing it in my own handwritten form, and thinking about whatever it was that compelled me to write such a thing down. I remember during my college years that after slaving away taking copious notes - handwritten and even typed - that once written, I rarely had to refer to them for studying. Once it was written, it was pretty much committed to memory.

I typically start the year writing out, in full, Isaiah 55. Easily my favorite Old Testament chapter. I didn't do this for the more recent notebook, thinking I'd want to hunt around for something else to translate in my own handwriting. So as I hit that half-year mark, I think I'm just going to do that as my half-year resolution. As soon as I find that notebook.

Funny thing happened on the way to church ... well, actually it happened at church. But nobody ever says the line "Funny thing happened after I arrived at _____." Setting up the video on the third floor for a movie night, I notice I've got no audio out of the PC. Not the end of the world for the night, but I decide to see if there's a known cure that might lead to me learning a new trick or two about the massive snake of wires in the AV booth.

Rescue Roger, who's bailed me out of any number of AV setup headaches arrives on his own. I give him the overview and tell him what little I've done to try and repair the status thus far. Upon taking the speaker line out of the PC, we note that there's no audio coming from the PC. That's a bad thing if you want audio at all. Rescue Roger tries a few things. I let him off the hook since we don't necessarily need PC audio for our room this night all that much. We're both about to resign ourselves to defeat on this, then R.R. plugs the speaker back where it was in the first place. Presto. PC Audio.

Lesson for the day: If something is not working as it should on your PC, do the following (in order of preferred action):

a) do nothing, come back in 20 minutes and see if it magically works on its own
b) fiddle with it until it works
c) unplug and then plug back in whatever is pluggable/unpluggable (this is really a variation of b ... just simpler)
d) reboot the computer

I usually go with a) at work - d) when I know my PC has been worked to death and needs a reset. But there tends to be a bit of learning to do at church in the form of a few extra devices to contend with. So I'm not averse to learning a new trick or two. Still, it doesn't take long before the wisdom of a final option makes sense:

e) adapt to the reality that you are limited by what the PC allows you to do.

And if that's just too frustrating to deal with, pick up some reading material and get away from the computer.

Seriously, though, one of these days, I'm going to have to learn the ways of Rescue Roger when it comes to healing audio/video equipment.

Derek Webb blogging over at God's Poltics. I'm not sure words can truly state how cool that is.

Prof. Stackhouse on certainty ...

So I think it's fine to say that I am "certain" about these things. When I do, I am reporting on my state of mind. I am saying that I am so highly convinced of them that I entertain no serious doubts about them. I think, and feel, and act with untroubled confidence in them.

And that is what the Bible promises me: that I can enjoy such confidence--note that word: such "with-faith-ness" (con fide)--that I can make crucial life decisions according to such convictions.

The Bible, that is, doesn't promise somehow to lift me above my human limitations into an epistemic situation such that I can know something truly and also know that I know it truly and could not possibly be wrong. How could I, as a human being, ever experience something like that?

(And those who quote passages such as Luke 1:4 and Hebrews 11:1 need to consult the Greek lectionaries to see what is actually meant in the English translations that use "certain" words therein. Those words do not mean certainty in the former sense I'm defining here.)

No, the Bible promises that I can know with such assurance, such conviction, such well-grounded faith that I then can and will act in accordance with that faith--and thus be faithful.

Read the whole thing. It's lengthy, but worth the time spent. For an even lengthier read, his latest book is certainly tempting me for some future reading.

Interesting choice of passages for Greg Boyd's Easter sermon:

NIV:

¹⁴ Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might destroy him who holds the power of death--that is, the devil -- ¹⁵ and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death.

Message translation:

^14-15 Since the children are made of flesh and blood, it's logical that the Savior took on flesh and blood in order to rescue them by his death. By embracing death, taking it into himself, he destroyed the Devil's hold on death and freed all who cower through life, scared to death of death.

Also interesting was the inclusion of Pink Floyd into the message. Which I thoroughly dug.

I'm trying to work up a little mention of the sermons I'm going through this week, but I'm leaving the above passages mostly as-is for consideration. Beyond the obvious slew of Easter messages, I've also been poring over some of Rob Bell's earlier messages on his church's foundations. Like 10 of 'em, I think. Don't worry, I'm only likely to skim the skim of the surface on it. Much of the material has already found its way into "Velvet Elvis" and his "Everything is Spiritual" message. There's even a few spots where you can identify some NOOMA video ideas being born. But the approach of the message series is fascinating and the insights are always great.

I'll take one brief moment to note how odd it is that somehow, some things just seem to balance out. As mentioned previously, work is a bear. That makes reading time a precious commodity. That makes quiet time hard to come by. It makes Wednesday night services a bit more difficult to get to. And it cuts into the time available to listen to some other sermons from the rest of the world.

That in mind, I happened to just fall asleep on the bus ride home from work one day. I have this unexplainable talent for nodding off just enough to wake up a stop or two before getting home. I don't know how to explain that one, but it goes back to my time bussing it from NW Houston to the UH campus back in my college days (an hour & a half means of getting homework read during the day).

So, the other day, I wake up with the MP3 player blaring a Rob Bell sermon. Several stops prior to home, so I snap to attention since it's one of the older Bell sermons I've got loaded and never got around to listening to as systematically as I had hoped for. Short version of the story: the message just hit home in so many ways. I stopped off to listen to it while I shopped for groceries. Listened to it all over again once I got home. And fired it up another time on the way into work the next day.

Add to that, I'm still thoroughly enjoying my latest toy - a Message Bible. It's disturbingly readable. Addictive almost. Listening to Bell preach with the book handy, it's a pleasantly odd experience reading Peterson's translation and meshing it with Bell teaching from another version. The oddity comes from the fact that I kept finding myself reading more and more around the section used for example in order to find all the context imaginable for the message.

So, with all that's crushing me on the work front (and I say that in a pleasant, enjoyable way), I just crack open The Message for a random read. Anyone experienced in this practice knows where this lands you. And truth be told, I'm not an easy reader of Psalms - it strikes me too much like reading poetry. Maybe that's just a guy thing, dunno. But once more, I land on a message that just soaks in. Like maybe you've discovered a new life-verse or something.

Just great enough that I thought I'd share ...

Psalm 40
A David Psalm
1-3 I waited and waited and waited for God. At last he looked; finally he listened.
He lifted me out of the ditch,
pulled me from deep mud.
He stood me up on a solid rock
to make sure I wouldn't slip.
He taught me how to sing the latest God-song,
a praise-song to our God.
More and more people are seeing this:
they enter the mystery,
abandoning themselves to God.

4-5 Blessed are you who give yourselves over to God,
turn your backs on the world's "sure thing,"
ignore what the world worships;
The world's a huge stockpile
of God-wonders and God-thoughts.
Nothing and no one
comes close to you!
I start talking about you, telling what I know,
and quickly run out of words.
Neither numbers nor words
account for you.

6 Doing something for you, bringing something to you--
that's not what you're after.
Being religious, acting pious--
that's not what you're asking for.
You've opened my ears
so I can listen.

7-8 So I answered, "I'm coming.
I read in your letter what you wrote about me,
And I'm coming to the party
you're throwing for me."
That's when God's Word entered my life,
became part of my very being.

9-10 I've preached you to the whole congregation,
I've kept back nothing, God--you know that.
I didn't keep the news of your ways
a secret, didn't keep it to myself.
I told it all, how dependable you are, how thorough.
I didn't hold back pieces of love and truth
For myself alone. I told it all,
let the congregation know the whole story.

11-12 Now God, don't hold out on me,
don't hold back your passion.
Your love and truth
are all that keeps me together.
When troubles ganged up on me,
a mob of sins past counting,
I was so swamped by guilt
I couldn't see my way clear.
More guilt in my heart than hair on my head,
so heavy the guilt that my heart gave out.

13-15 Soften up, God, and intervene;
hurry and get me some help,
So those who are trying to kidnap my soul
will be embarrassed and lose face,
So anyone who gets a kick out of making me miserable
will be heckled and disgraced,
So those who pray for my ruin
will be booed and jeered without mercy.

16-17 But all who are hunting for you--
oh, let them sing and be happy.
Let those who know what you're all about
tell the world you're great and not quitting.
And me? I'm a mess. I'm nothing and have nothing:
make something of me.
You can do it; you've got what it takes--
but God, don't put it off.

Best read of the day ... possibly for much more than that, even.

There's not a lot of church-ese in there, and the author writes about smiling a lot. I'm sure there are those that would love to nitpick at the lack of theology in Michael Jernigan's post on how he maintains his joy after being injured in combat in Iraq. But if I'm up to being intellectually combative about things myself, I might go so far as to point out that there's more benefit in Jernigan's blog post than in any theology text.

Ya know, after a week-plus of capturing video from Joel's travels up north, I'm kinda looking for a good stretch of time to get back to writing a few thousand words per post. Who knows, maybe even go on a Video Fast (not sure about that one, though). But the work day picks up steam about this time of year, so I'm not quite ready to make that promise. About another week-plus of video-centric blogging and I'll probably return to normal thereafter.

Or, whatever passes for normal.

One little bonus video clip I've been meaning to post since the DVD came out, was a scene from the movie Evan Almighty. For a Christian perspective, the movie's not all that bad - at least on par with George Burns' multiple "Oh God!" movies (which seems to be on the path to a remake in 2008 ... ugh!). From a comedic perspective, the flick was a moderate letdown for us Steve Carell fans. Not a bad movie, just nothing to write home about.

But this little clip of the movie deserves a shout-out. Watching it in the theater, I was immediately reminded of a sermon Joel had given some time before on how God usually will give you the opportunity to grow in an area rather than just wave a magic wand and make you rid of whatever trait we need work on. That, and it's also an excellent reminder on what a great deity Morgan Freeman portrays on the big screen. Well ... a little smaller here. Anyways, enjoy:

Reading through two books at once isn't my preferred method. It kinda detracts attention. But somehow, this excerpt stuck with me as I'm making my way through the paperback release of Joel's "Your Best Life Now."

At once, it captures the hopeful optimism that I think most who enjoy Lakewood while also offering a counterpoint that I think gets overlooked by many of Joel's critics. It's an old, yet warranted, complaint about many charismatic ministries that the tendency is to blame a lack of faith for when things don't go perfectly in our lives. I can't speak for every ministry and how they deal with this. But here, we get Joel's reminder that tough times, setbacks, and disappointments will come.

Anyways, read on below the fold for Joel in his own words ...

One more audio post heading into the weekend. I'm optimistic that I'll break free from work in time to catch some of the great music at Celebrate Recovery. But that ties in to a sermon series that Greg Boyd is doing. I should begin by pointing out that part of what I love about listening to Boyd's sermons is that he's going through Luke - line by line and at a snail's pace. My favorite gospel being taught by a guy who dives into as much detail as he possibly can ... and who possesses the intellect and wisdom to do so wonderfully. But he's taking four weeks off from that plan to renew his church in the art and practice of worship. The reason was due to the need to catch up some of the newer church members there ... but I've got to think the messages ought to resonate with those who have been hitting church for longer. Since I clock in at just over two years, however, I suppose I'm in Boyd's target market. But give either of the first two messages a spin and see what you get from them.

I thought I'd post this little excerpt from the 2nd message. Here, Boyd talks about worship as a form of evangelism. Definitely a very "salt and light" type of message. But it also serves as a reminder of one of the reasons I enjoy our own Lakewood choir & orchestra. Personally, I find it hard to not notice others who possess ... well, whatever you want to call it ... and conclude that there's something there worth sharing.

Whether it's watching/listening to something masterfully performed by any of the musicians, some joyful moment by anyone taking part, or even a wonderful lyric masterfully sung ... if there's something there that doesn't move you at all, there just might be something wrong with you. To which I can only suggest a hearty "welcome to the club!"

Anyways ... Greg Boyd on worship as evangelism:

(Good ol' fashioned MP3 clip here)

In doing some work under the hood of this little blog, I just realized that next weekend will represent the second blogiversary of this endeavor. My how time flies when you're having fun.

Another oddity that struck me was that it seems we had some knowledge of the Christmas event at Lakewood around this time last year. I've not seen anything posted yet for this year. I do know that we're in the planning stages for Koinonia's holiday festivities ... and yes, I'm lobbying extensively to get Stryper booked for either gig. Wish me luck. My odds aren't all that great, but fortunately there's a lot of in-house talent for us to showcase.

As for any pithy thoughts to note at the onset of another year turning over for the blog, it's worth pointing out that it was pretty close to this time last year that I started using a bit more video on the site - first with the YouTube Tuesdays and then with the Monday Videos. The purpose of all that, oddly enough, was to instill a bit more discipline into my own posting and writing. For one, I'd have to do a little work to either locate a good YouTube clip and to edit a good Monday clip. Secondly, if I simply let the site devolve to a visual spectacular with nothing original to add of my own, I'd be pretty embarrassed ... so the routine had an odd way of forcing me to write, and write, and write some more. And, of course, there's the more worthwhile goal of simply shedding an additional ray of spotlight onto whatever catches my interest from within Lakewood or beyond.

Over the past year I've also been pleasantly surprised to learn about the site catching on with folks I rarely crossed paths with at Lakewood. Namely, some of the very folks who inspire and encourage me most in my own journey with their music and singing talents. In addition to that, the video site is approaching it's 50th person to register. Not a huge number, but since there's nothing really requiring registration and almost all of the videos are slapped onto the site, it just amazes me that the number isn't stuck on #1 - that being me. Based on the users there, some of the emails I get every now and then, plus other forms of feedback, it's safe to say this little corner of the internet has a truly international reach.

Of course, I can't say they're here for the snappy writing or deep, insightful odes penned via my keyboard. Obviously, the guy traveling all over the world with his ministry and broadcasting it helps a great deal. And beyond that, it all just speaks to the desire out there for people to connect with God in whatever way fills your own soul. Whatever contribution I add has to be viewed as microscopic compared to that.

If there's one thing I've come to learn more fully in the last year, it's been this: in order to be the most effective messenger you can for God's word into the world, simply find a bunch of other people who are sorta like yourself. A scary thought for some of us. But find the people you can relate to - or that can relate to you despite any discernible reason why you might want to relate to them. And then grow the Kingdom from there. I'm sure there are loads of other ways to do this, but that seems to work for me.

At it's simplest, that's all this blog does. It just sits here in pixelated form - and whoever shares an interest in my own weird reading habits; appreciation of 80s heavy metal music; punk rock music; and the significantly softer stylings of Cindy, Da'Dra, Carrie, Aimee, Jemine and others- well, they land here. And it's each of you who participate in one form or another that add an additional element to this site. I can only be in one place at one time, with my eyes in front of no more than three monitors, one television, and if need be, a radio. Where my talents end, you guys have done a great job in contributing in your own way. And for that, I offer a hearty thanks.

For whatever reason, I opt to head back downtown to the office after church Saturday night. I think it's just a whole lotta reasons bundled up into one timely sense of urgency, perhaps. It seems that after the Wednesday service I was so amped to listen to the service over and over again, I may have gotten a bit too much. By the next day, I was:

a) beyond tired from lack of sleep, and
b) ready to listen to anything BUT Lakewood music

Just for a momentary change of pace, mind you. By Saturday night, I was right where I needed to be in order to regain my appreciation of the musical side of Lakewood. Adding to matters, it was apparently decided that Aimee Beard would be performing a solo once more. Three guesses as to what's on display here come Monday.

Just to add to matters, the sleep schedule is a bit out of whack, I've got work stuff to catch up on, and it seems wholly justifiable to my way of thinking that I do that overnight and catch the Sunday service toward the end of this hideously scheduled day.

Anyways, I arrive downtown. After picking up a late meal, I'm headed down Main St. sticking out like a sore thumb. It's the peak club-hopping hour and I'm dressed in work casual, with a non-descript notebook, a small Bible, and a Eugene Peterson book I desperately need to finish. I look neither hip, urban, young, or cool.

First person that intersects with me extends a card my way and asks if I want to go to "their club." He puts such an awkward emphasis on that phrase that I think it's probably just another street evangelist hawking his wares in order to claim a successful evening of passing out cards. Nevermind that Bible in my hand might tip off a few folks ... even though it was late ... and dark ... and there's nothing that really stands out about this Bible except that it's small enough to not break my wrist after lugging it around all day. I smile, take the card and move on. Every weekend there seems to be a few of these folks. Bumped into one the day before. They're always creative cards you end up with. Alas, this one was for a real club. I just can't help but wonder what about me looked like the type of guy who was cool enough to walk into a place that has $5 Mojitos "b4 12am." Somehow I don't think it was the type of outting that Pastor Hunter was referring to ... nor do I think Rob Bell was going to be delivering a sermon there. So I passed.

After I cross the street, I'm in a difficult-to-navigate section of Main. The line of folks to get into the clubs closer to my office manage to block the street. It's not uncommon to fight for space on the streets with actual cars. After I get to some particularly tight section of sidewalk, I notice there's a group of four college-aged guys doing the "Bullhorn Guy" routine. Only without the bullhorn. So it's really just "Loudmouth Guy" ... and his posse. No cards, no pamphlets, just four really mean-looking kids, a milk crate, and two very loud vocal chords. And nobody seems overly interested in them.

Far more productive, we were treated to a couple of songs from one of Lakewood's Spanish worship team guitarists - Miguel. Interesting testimony given Saturday night. It seems he had given up guitar for a long time, picked it back up after arriving at church and now does a pretty good job of ministering through music. The guy had all of Koinonia singing in Spanish for half of each song. Part of his message was that it's never too late. He offered himself as an example. He had just turned 30. Well, this soon-to-be 40 yr old has also been picking up an old guitar when time permits. Hopefully by the time the clock turns over, I'll have enough practice to do a little project I've got in mind.

Among the qualities that I tend to equate with a great Christian book is what it opens up to me from the Bible. For instance, upon reading "The Ragamuffin Gospel," I was practically forced to re-read Luke one more time due to a sparked interest. Flipping through Eugene Peterson's "The Jesus Way," I got an unexpected spark - this time for reading the life of Elijah.

Peterson's chapter on Elijah was rich enough to re-read a second time in and of itself. Here's one snippet of that chapter to savor for now.

"The Jesus Way"
(pages 107-109)

The Widow
Elijah does go into hiding by the brook Cherith in Gilead, safe from reprisal from Ahab and Jezebel. After they have deciphered the blasphemous implications of his sermon they do go looking for him. And God does take care of Elijah as he had assured him he would. Each morning ravcens bring him a breakfast of bread and meat, each evening a supper of bread and meat. And the brook provides living water.

We are in familiar country here. If God could provide bread (manna) and meat (quail) for the Israelites in the Sinai wilderness for a great company of his people, it is no great surprise to find him taking care of his lone prophet in the Gilead wilderness. The ravens are a nice touch. Against the overall background of the Ahab-Jezebel and Ball-Asherah coalition and its signature drought, Elijah enjoys the hospitality of the Lord's "table in the wilderness" (Ps. 78:19), served morning and evening by the elegant ravens. God's providence is never characterized in broad generalities or pious abstractions but always in the particular, in the personal, in the recognition of grace in an unlikely time, at an unlikely place. Who could have anticipated ravens?

And then the brook dries up and providence shows up in a new way. God now directs Elijah to the town of Zarephath in Sidon. This is a surprise. Gilead was more or less obvious as a hideout, remote and not easily accessible. Out of reach of Ahab and Jezebel. Zarephath is in Sidon, Jezebel's backyard, an area not only inhabited by the people Jezebel grew up with but teeming with the gods and goddesses she is determined to bring into Israel. This is hostile country, dangerously hostile for a man on the run, a man attempting to live incognito.

But Elijah is not a man to calculate his chances. He knows how to obey orders, even when the orders make no sense (maybe especially when the orders make no sense). He goes where God directs him and finds himself cared for not by Gilead ravens this time but by an even more unlikely hand of providence, a starving widow. She gives him her more unlikely hand of providence, a starving widow. She gives him her last meal, a meal that she is getting ready to cook and eat with her son after which the two of them will die together. That is the plan. But it doesn't turn out according to plan. The hospitality the widow shows Elijah is transfigured into the hospitality that Elijah shows the widow and son. Giving begets giving. The little becomes much.

Once we have the entire story of Elijah before us, it will become clear that his life in the wilderness and with the widow, his out-of-the-way life, marginal to everything we assume is important and significant, is foundational to whatever effectiveness he will have when he has the attention of the world. Elijah is as much a prophet in the impoverished widow's home in Zarephath as he was, alone with God's ravens, alongside the wilderness brook Cherith in Gilead, and as he will be, more famously, on Mount Carmel. He is the same man in obscurity as he is in the spotlight.

We are not told how long Elijah spent with the ravens by the brook and with the widow in her impoverished home, but it could have been as long as three years, the time between when Elijah left Ahab pondering the drought sermon and the time Elijah showed up again to arrange for the showdown on Mount Carmel. It wouldn't be either the first or last time that a long period of seclusion, sustained by providential hospitality, was required to build the "highways to Zion" (Ps. 84:5) in a man or a woman's heart. Herman Melville wrote that his isolating years on a whaling ship were "my Harvard and Yale." Maybe Gilead and Zarephath were Elijah's.

What amazes me most about the widow's hospitality for Elijah was that she followed Elijah down a path that involved her feeding him despite being low on food ... housing him when she expected to merely go home to die upon running out of food. Elijah tells her "For this is what the LORD, the God of Israel, says: 'The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the LORD gives rain on the land.'" Add to the scene here that there is a term in the NIV version that repeats itself in 1 Kings 17 - "Some time later." It's likely that this phrase covers a matter of years. It isn't until after one of those "some time laters" that Elijah brings the widow's son back from the dead and has her concluding with "Now I know that you are a man of God and that the word of the LORD from your mouth is the truth." Imagine all that time of feeding a total stranger (with a deathwish, no less!) with whatever degree of doubt the widow had for Elijah. She followed, she obeyed, she sowed ... all with some portion of doubt. Maybe a lot, maybe just a bit - we don't know. But she followed.

Two separate audio clips to share here from two different sources. Each struck me as worth highlighting.

The first is from Pastor Joel Hunter. Hunter heads Florida's Northland Church. I've been rather late to appreciate Hunter despite his being in the news for much of the past few years. My bias tends to be toward younger pastors, but Hunter is a clear exception. I'll usually listen to his sermons late at night, turn down the lights and let his voice just fill the room. The church also has great sermon notes and a study guide to go by also. As a communication techie who dabbles in graphic arts, it's a nice addition.

Hunter's segment here is from the sermon "Wasting Wisdom" - one that I find myself listening to repeatedly. It covers the difference between moralism and morality. It's a point that I suspect Hunter has covered in his recent book covering politics and religion: "Right Wing, Wrong Bird." In the end, however, it's an affirming view to the way I tend to look at that intersection. Give Pastor Hunter a listen and I'll leave it to him to clarify. If you're up for it, though, the entire sermon is great to take in.

(If the flash player isn't showing up in the RSS feed, click the link for old-fashioned blog reading methodology)

Second up is a duo of clips. Greg Boyd from Minnesota's Woodland Hills Church is one of my favorites because there's a lot to his style that I recognize in myself. He's at once nerdy and rambling. As he puts it, he tends to "think in paragraphs." Like Hunter, Boyd is another author of a book covering the intersection of politics and religion, but this clip doesn't go into that (mercifully). These were actually back-to-back answers in a Q&A session that concluded a series on spiritual warfare. Again, the entire session is worth listening to, but it's over 2 hours of audio from each of the services. I won't lie ... even I couldn't sit through that in one sitting. But it's an incredibly educational and entertaining lesson.

Boyd gets a little bit of grief from critics of his view of what's called "open theism." I don't pretend to have done enough theological study to break that down on both sides for one and all. But the first clip gives a brief overview of what that's about. I'll leave it for you to decide whether it fits with your own worldview, but it certainly opens up an area that warrants more thought in terms of how we live out God's purpose in our lives.

The second clip picks up from the other participant in the Q&A, Paul Eddy. This one grazes on that politics/religion intersection, but only as a means of providing a metaphor. It also, I think, addresses the question more directly. That question was essentially ... why doesn't God just take away - or just obliterate - Satan's power in this world? As Eddy notes in his answer, the metaphor isn't perfect, but it's a good starting point to illustrate with.

I'll recommend the whole 2-hour session if you've got the time and interest in the subject. As a throwback, I first mentioned this topic back when I read John Eldredge's "The Sacred Romance." The book excerpts from back then are another great illustration of the subject as well.

Well, I did a post discussing my one-year Lakewood anniversary last time around, so why not give it another go?

The biggest change over the last year, for my part, has been that I've done a bit more volunteer duty around the place. It doesn't really take long before you look around and realize you're one of the old-timers around church. On the surface, it's an odd calling to have an introvert like myself facilitate a small group discussion for Koinonia or greet folks for Compass Class. But I'm reminded of my days working in retail to put that into perspective. At some point late in my decade-plus of retail work, I remember interviewing for something (whatever memories I haven't suppressed from that era are all a blur) and getting one of those questions that, if I were the one asking, I'd be on alert for some stock answer like "Oh, I just love being around people." You know - those answers that you're supposed to give in order to make the interviewing manager smile approvingly. The answer I wanted to give, of course, was something sarcastic like "I'd just as soon be left alone to my thoughts if you don't mind." Obviously, I'm not likely to be confused as a people person. But I did rather well in retail if I dare say so. My explanation for that isn't that I just loved being around people, but rather that I just learned to co-exist comfortably and peacefully with them. Besides, most people are good folks, right?

As luck would have it, I've since managed to find myself in my own little ministry of "button-pushing" behind the AV console (I'd be the "V" half of that equation). Not a bad fit, really. I still get to jump into a small group pretty much whenever I so desire. The greeting gig earlier in the nights is made easy by virtue of knowing most of the people that show up each week for Compass Class. So even that's not so bad.

As any walk of faith progresses, there's a number of things that may not be a negative, but they do require some attention until they do become a negative. You get used to a lot of things when you've got a routine. I can pretty much name everyone I'll run into at the bookstore before Compass Class. I can usually identify who shows up in precise order for class. I no longer have to make use of a watch when I wonder what time it is during a Joel Osteen sermon. I can tell time by the pace of his sermon. Honest to God about that.

The potential downside to it all is this: when other people go through their own seasons that alter their routine, there's a similar season of adjustment to go through on my part. There's people you get used to seeing and then you don't. There are people you get used to spending just the right amount of time with each week ... and then you don't. I'd be lying if I said there weren't people I honestly miss seeing on a regular basis at church. That takes quite a bit for an introvert to admit to, I think.

There can be a fine line between ritual and building community, and that's basically where I'm going with all this. The necessities needed to establish personal bonds take time. That leads to ritual ... which isn't all bad. So long as it's done willfully, freely, and cheerfully ... and strengthens the bonds of fellowship you've begun building. At it's worst, you can find yourself marching in a circle around your mountain when you should be doing other things. At it's best, you can finish each others' sentences.

All of that just adds to growth, though. There's always someone new walking in the doors of Lakewood. And with thousands of people on hand, you've got to think there's a community of likeminded folks just waiting to come together and strengthen each other in their own walk. Personally, that's about where I find myself ... somewhere near the tipping point to create that something new. What that is, I'm not even remotely sure of yet.

And that, in sum, may be the one thing that I believe I've refined a bit more over the course of the last year. One of the motivations for me leading small groups was that I was tired of getting mixed results in terms of quality discussion at whatever table I was at. Instant fix: be the facilitator. Voila! Want to see your study group grow? Volunteer to help it grow, even if all that means is greeting folks at a table so that other folks can be the social butterflies that God created them to be.

All that to say that what I concluded last year is pretty much the same truism this year. Joel tells us that we won't go out the same way we came into Lakewood and I'm just left to conclude that he's right. Besides, many of the same things that I love about the church are still there. The music's still inspiring, the sermons still resonate long after they're delivered. And occasionally you see someone you haven't seen in a long time.

I don't necessarily want to beat a dead horse over this topic, but Randall Balmer has a post regarding the Pope's authority that I'll just echo. My reasons for taking an interest in Balmer's opinion is that it borrows from one of my own favorites of the New Testament - Peter.