Thursday, December 30, 2010

Chris Cox Photography

Chris Cox is a Junior at Hope College and a friend. He did design and layout for the last two years of our worship CDs. Please check out his site. He took a series of pics of our family at home and also a few for Susanna. I recommend his work highly.

Below are pics of us from Jacob Bullard's CD release party (Sus and I opened for Soil & the Sun who opened for Jacob and his band), Susanna (most likely will be promo for her new book due out next Fall), the fam and Casper. 

Saturday, December 18, 2010

A Couple Blog Responses: Nudity? Arts Ministry?

Here are a few responses to some blogs. Both have to do with David Taylor. Do I not believe that David can speak for himself? Of course! David is not a man of few words! LOVE you DT! He is astute, working on his PhD, and has several more books in him I'm sure. So, why do I bother? I love these conversations and can't resist. I believe that I'm going to learn some things by these interactions. Also, I've been emboldened by James K.A. Smith's review of the recently published, Hipster Christianity. He's pretty rough on the author Brett McCracken. I think that if Brett and I had an acquaintance, we could be good friends, yet Jamie's spanking of him is somewhat justified. Brett spends so much time pointing the finger that he seems ignorant that "the smeller's the feller," or "it takes one to know one." I'm letting myself be emboldened because the stakes are high with these discussions on faith and culture. These things matter.

I'll note that I don't presume to have the training or credentials to be brash in Jamie Smith's manner. Any of you are welcome to hold me accountable to writing/thinking/speaking as a brother coming alongside others. Let me know if my tone becomes patronizing. There is much to be learned about healthy internet discourse.

Two responses below: first on the question of nudity in film, the second in defense of the mission of 'art ministry." Both flow out of responses from other people to videos posted by The Gospel Coalition of DT presenting at a church planting conference.

In this video David is offering pastors a few recommendations on novels and films they might benefit from. David put the video it on his blog and a few people had trouble with his recommendation of P.T. Anderson's Magnolia especially because of the nudity (very brief yet graphic).  I'm looking forward to David's response.

My response:
This is truly a David Taylor kind of forum discussion! Love it.
My (unsolicited) 2 cents:
* I'd warn against any black and white on the topic of nudity. The Bible gives us wisdom but it will lead us each to various convictions. Insert here Paul's dictum used in 1 Corinthians, "all things are lawful but not all things are profitable." This is a scary thing for Christian brothers and sisters to accept, that what I am called to you may not be called to.
*I'd also caution against an overuse of the Incarnation to defend this issue or the arts in general willy nilly. I'm not saying the Incarnation doesn't have bearing here. Yet we have to be careful in how quick we ascribe something true about God (becoming human) to what we believe to be true about humanity. We have to maintain a distinction between us and God. See J. Begbie edited collection of essays, Beholding the Glory: Incarnation and the Arts.
*We also need to be careful in our viewing/reading/art imbibing habits. While some of us might find merit in a movie like Magnolia, I don't think it should be part of our regular 'diet.' Yes, I believe God can speak through such things, but he can speak much more plainly through the Scriptures.
*While Magnolia is a favorite of mine, I don't recommend it to people unless I know them well. In the video David is recommending the film for pastors and lay leaders who are wanting to broaden their understanding of culture and art. For a film like this to be 'profitable,' the viewer needs the maturity and training to discern the film carefully. Such a film requires not just the discernment of one person or pastor, but a good dialogue like the one here on this blog between all you good people.
*I'd also suggest that the issue of the body is much more of a poignant issue in dance than in film. Those of us working to discern such things need a theology of our bodies. Film is too close and loaded for most of us. A theology 'through the art' of dance would freshen and better frame and therefore inform questions about the body as depicted in film.
*Personally, I am more concerned about our lack of discernment in the area of violence in film. For example, why don't more Christians show concern about Peter Jackson's embellishments of war in his adaptations of the Tolkien books? My review of Showtime's Dexter is here: http://www.valpo.edu/cresset/2010/Lent/Banner_L10.html
*I watch most films with my wife. She is pretty good at helping me in the moment discern what parts of the body I shouldn't see...with her hand over my eyes!
In this other video David is talking about arts ministry at large. Here on The Gospel Coalition's site several people expressed grave skepticism about the purpose and merit of ministering to artists. These comments cut deep, yet in my response I'm truly attempting to build bridges. We'll see.

My response:
I’m an arts pastor involved in campus ministry. I’m also a contributor to David Taylor’s collection of essays. I’ve read through the comments here and want to attempt a response because we so much want to have these conversations with those of you in the church at large. After all, the book was written out of love for the body of Christ (tile: For the Beauty of the Church) and a desire to see the Kingdom of God advanced. We are not trying to put artists on a pedestal or to pit art over and above the Gospel.
First, there are many quick judgments here. I can’t help but think that you are not reacting to David so much as connecting him to other trends in the church that you’ve become confused or alarmed by. There has been lots of talk about the arts. In my estimation, the arts have become awkwardly trendy for Evangelicals. That is perhaps one of the reasons why the book was put together–to develop a more robust conversation about the arts that might serve the faithful, Gospel work of the local church pastor (David and I both come from precious work in the local church).
I encourage you to read the book. Many of your reactions here are in response to a five minute video. I don’t think many of you would like your ministries to be judged based on a five minute visit to your church. Give the book a chance. David assembled a very astute group of authors of which I am the least.
Second, I’m confused by the dualism inherent in most of these posts. The underlying assumption is that ‘culture-making’ is an optional project. We don’t have a choice whether we make culture or not. All of us daily produce culture; we practice the ordering of creation. The question is not if we are engaged in art and culture as the church, the question is how and to what extent we bring our art/culture engagement under the Lordship of Christ and how brightly his love, truth, beauty, justice shine through us.
Why the emphasis on arts ministry in the local church? Because we are trying to compensate for this kind of dualism that separates how the kingdom of God is established on earth “as it is in heaven.” If we evangelicals had a more developed theology of culture, we would not need ‘arts pastors.’ I’ll add that not all of us involved in arts ministry are naive ‘transformationalists.’ While I have hope for these things, I also understand the ultimate work of transformation is God’s alone. I teach a nuanced approach, cautious yet hopeful, “as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves” because we are “sheep among wolves.”
Finally, my emphasis on the arts is precisely out of concern for discipleship. If we don’t practice cultural discernment and champion good Christians in the arts, then we will be handing our people over to “the wolves,” to blindly to imbibe and co-opt cultural forms that compromise the Gospel. For example, contrary to your assumptions, many of us are involved in arts ministry because we are very concerned about aesthetic values of ‘the cool’ and ‘the sexy’ and want to steer the church away from hipster attempts to compete with popular culture.
grace and peace of Christ to you!

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Monsoon Malabar


Susanna and I have been reading a lot lately. We finished Tim Winton’s The Shallows finally and then busted through Edgar Sawtell and are two thirds through Cold Mountain. There has been a few mentions of characters drinking coffee—descriptions of making coffee, holding the hot cups—that I’ve been wondering about how to find that same powerful, nostalgic moment in my days.

One morning this past week I made the perfect cup of Monsoon Malabar with the Clever Coffee gizmo. I realized how good it was as I was driving down College Ave to school. I was rushed in getting there and had to suck away quickly. I missed the kind of calm, solitary, watchful coffee drinking I’d been reading about. Cold morning. Wrapped up in warm clothes. Gripping the mug. But I kept thinking about the amazing balance of that brew. Hot. Strong. But not so strong that I couldn’t appreciate the roast of the bean.

Yesterday morning—Saturday—I went to church at 9:30AM to rehearse my role as narrator for this year’s Christmas play. My consolation of giving up my Saturday morning was going to be a thermal mug with another brew of Monsoon Malabar. Well, I used the larger coffee filter and added too much water and what came out didn't taste much better than the coffee they serve at church. That isn’t a knock on the church; it's a admission of the snobbery that many of us have taken to with our fancy pants, boutique roasted beans. I was probably 10 the last time I was in a Christmas play. Anyone know Psalty’s Christmas Calamity? Part of me wanted to do this because I want to experience who/what I am with all the kids, as an adult, as a father now (Casper is baby Jesus this year) and potentially as a pastor of a small church like Crossroads some day. There’s that model of a pastor I wonder if I could be, the children’s sermons, the warmth as a family man, the ‘let the children come to me’ picture of Jesus, multi-ethnic kids climbing all over his lap, birds flitting in the air around his shoulders. Apparently the rehearsal went well. That is what Celaine said at least, but I was still bumming on the poor coffee I’d made.

We slept and read most of yesterday afternoon. I woke up earlier this morning. I have an even better cup of coffee next to me right now. Robed with a blanket across my feet. The gas stove is on. It looks disgustingly cold outside especially because I know it rained yesterday and that snow is crusted ice now.

What do I do with this moment? I blog it. Judson sent me a link to Justin Vernon’s twitter account. As I clicked through it, I experienced the world of an aesthete. We saw him in concert a few years ago and yes, his performance evoked a sensual, emotional expiation. I’ve been experiencing many things deeply in this season. The dANCEpROJECt performance a month ago was at the beginning of much of it. Or was it really Capser’s birth back in May? I haven’t been writing much because this has been a season of seeing and doing, taking in, gathering, receiving. I never knew I’d be so moved by modern dance. Even the more lyrical movements of Sacred Dance last Wednesday grabbed hold of me. Cold Mountain is so visceral, Charles Frazier’s prose so evocative that I’ve been reaching for books of poetry (eg. Franz Wright) to keep me going. Two records I just picked up have been good food satisfying different appetites: Jose Gonzalez’ band, Junip and finally the Black Keys’, Brothers. Thursday night I was able to record six different student performances. Ben came in and helped me facilitate short 10-15 minute sessions with each. Then there was the team Christmas party Friday night. For the White Elephant exchange, Lauren turned a bobble head into something that evoked a strong resemblance of Larry playing the piano and I wanted it...bad. Jacob stole it. Leo made a certificate, a voucher for a date with Josh Banner. Scott Kuyper stole that. We talked about going skeet shooting because I had picked his gift, a box containing two clay pigeons. Mike gave me a Christmas ornament. He’d taken a picture of me holding Casper and pasted his own face over the baby's. Our prayer time was giddy and sweet.

In the midst of so much seeming division in our nation, I’m fighting despair by resuscitating my engagements with ‘things.’ Rilke wrote that we should ‘be near things.’ It is our public discourse, our feeding on technological trinkets. It’s as if so many are experiencing a collective heaviness, a depression. And there's death too. One friend’s father went last week. Lori’s father is in hospice. John’s dad and Susanna’s uncle are about to enter. Why are the holidays often riddled with such ‘when it rains it pours’ pain? Despite it all, in the face of it, I’m alive and kicking. And that is baffling because I’d expect at this point, the end of the semester, that I’d be numb, cold and aloof.

It’s having a family. Susanna said it last night. Having a baby changes everything. Suddenly everything matters more. Even coffee. We were made to experience the world with and through others.



Friday, November 26, 2010

Thanksgiving Readings


From The Supper of The Lamb: A Culinary Reflection by Robert Farrar Capon

Section from Chapter One: Ingredients

Permit me now to wipe my hands and introduce myself. I am an author who has always intended to write about cooking, but who has never gotten started in a way that didn’t carry him out of the field in two paragraphs or less. This time, as you can see, I have outwitted the muse. My beginning, if confusing, is the most auspicious thus far.

Next, my qualifications.

First, I am an amateur. If that strikes you as disappointing, consider how much in error you are, and how the error is entirely of your own devising. At its root lies an objection to cookbooks written by non-professionals (an objection, by the way, which I consider perfectly valid, and congratulate you upon). It does not, however, apply here. Amateur and nonprofessional are not synonyms. The world may or may not need another cookbook, but it needs all the lovers—amateurs—it can get. It is a gorgeous old place, full of clownish graces and beautiful drolleries, and it has enough textures, tastes, and smells to keep us intrigued for more time than we have. Unfortunately, however, our response to its loveliness is not always delight. It is far more often that it should be, boredom.  And that is not only odd, it is tragic; for boredom is not neutral—it is the fertilizing principle of all un-loveliness.

In such a situation, the amateur—the lover, the man who thinks heedlessness a sin and boredom a heresy—is just the man you need. More than that, whether you think you need him or not, he is a man bound, by his love, to speak. If he loves Wisdom or the Arts, so much the better for him and for all of us. But if he loves only the way meat browns or onions peel, if he delights simply in the curds of his cheese or the color of his wine, he is, by every one of those enthusiasms, commanded to speak. A silent lover is one who doesn’t know his job.


Section from Chapter 8: Water in Excelsis

The bloom of the yeast lies upon the grape skins year after year because He likes it; C6H12O6=2C2H5OH+2CO2 (fermentation) is a dependable process because, every September, He says, that was nice; do it again. 

So let us pause and drink to that, to a radically, perpetually unnecessary world, to the restoration of astonishment to the heart and mystery to the mind, to wine because it is a gift we never expected, to mushroom and artichoke for they are incredible legacies, to improbable acids, and high alcohols since we would have hardly thought of them ourselves and to all being because it is superfluous, to the hairs on Harry’s ear and to the 768th cell from the upper attachment on the right gluteus maximus on the last girl on the chorus line. Prosit, dear hearts. Cheers, men and brethren. For we are free. Nothing is needful. Everything is for joy. Let the bookkeepers struggle with their balance sheets. It is the tippler who sees the untipped hand. God is eccentric. He has loves, not reasons. Salud.


From For the Life of the World by Alexander Schmemann

From Chapter One Section Three

To love is not easy, and mankind has chosen not to return God’s love. Man has loved the world, but as an end in itself and not as transparent to God. He has done it so consistently that it has become something that is “in the air.” It seems natural for man to experience the world as opaque, and not shot through with the presence of God. It seems natural not to live a life of thanksgiving for God’s gift of a world.

When we see the world as an end in itself, everything becomes itself a value and consequently loses all value, because only in God is found the meaning (value) of everything, and the world is meaningful only when it is the “sacrament” of God’s presence.


PRAYERS & PRAISES
(join in the sections in bold)

*Give us, our Father, a sense of your presence
as we gather now for worship.
Grant us gratitude as we remember your goodness,
penitence as we remember our sins,
and joy as we remember your love.
Enable us to lift up our hearts
in humble prayer and fervent praise,
through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.

PSALM 100
1Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth.
2   Worship the Lord with gladness;
   come into his presence with singing.
3 Know that the Lord is God.
   It is he that made us, and we are his;*
   we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.
4 Enter his gates with thanksgiving,
   and his courts with praise.
   Give thanks to him, bless his name.

*Great God of our lives,
for all that is gracious in our lives,
revealing the image of Christ,
we give you thanks.
For our daily food and drink,
our homes and families, and our friends,
we give you thanks.
For minds to think and hearts to love and hands to serve,
we give you thanks.
For health and strength to work, and leisure to rest and play,
we give you thanks.
For all valiant seekers after truth, liberty, and justice,
we give you thanks.
For the great mercies and promises given to us in Christ Jesus our Lord;
to you, O God, be praise and glory. Amen.

6PSALM 4
There are many who say, ‘O that we might see some good!
   Let the light of your face shine on us, O Lord!’
7 You have put gladness in my heart
   more than when their grain and wine abound.




*Prayers are from The Worship Sourcebook.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

From Bonhoeffer's Letters & Papers From Prison


What is bothering me incessantly is the question what Christianity really is, or indeed who Christ really is, for us today. The time when people could be told everything by means of words, whether theological or pious, is over, and so is the time of inwardness and conscience--and that means the time of religion in general. We are moving toward a completely religionless time; people as they are now simply cannot be religious anymore. Even those who honestly describe themselves as "religious" do not in the least act up to it, and so they presumably mean something quite different by "religious."[1]

Our whole nineteen-hundred-year-old Christian preaching and theology rest on the "religious a priori" of mankind. "Christianity" has always been a form--perhaps the true form--of "religion." But if one day it becomes clear that this a priori does not exist at all, but was a historically conditioned and transient form of human self-expression, and if therefore man becomes radically religionless--and I think that that is already more or less the case (else how is it, for example, that this war, in contrast to all previous ones, is not calling forth any "religious" reaction?)--what does that mean for "Christianity"?[2]


[1] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Letters and Papers From Prison (New York, Touchstone: 1997) 279.
[2] [Tegel] 30 April 1944 To Eberhard Bethge, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Letters and Papers From Prison, 281.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

A 3 Year Old Reciting Billy Collins

I saw this little guy on youtube some time ago. NPR is covering the story here. This easily one of the most amazing things I've ever experienced. Plus he's an incredibly adorable little guy.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Reading excerpts from Rowan Williams' Wound of Knowledge

Rowan Williams, The Wound of Knowledge: Christian Spirituality from the New Testament to Saint John of the Cross.

p. 17 
To believe in Jesus' God, the God of unconditional accessibility and even-handed compassion, to believe in an anarchic mercy that ignores order, rank and merit, is to accept that our projects and patterns are the mark of failure, of illusion, of the infantile belief that we can dictate truth and reality. Because it is menacing and painful to be confronted with the knowledge that our constructions of controlled sense are liable to be empty self-serving, we readily turn to violence against the bearers of such knowledge: in Johannine terms, we have decided we want to stay blind when the light is there before us, claiming we can see perfectly well (John 8:41). And the New Testament (especially the fourth gospel) suggests that only when such naked collision of interest occurs can the un-compromising reality of God over against our patterns of "religious control" become dear. God provokes crisis to destroy our self-deceiving reliance on "Law;" our dependence on what we as individuals can make and sustain, or what we as societies can administer for our own unchallenged interest. Self-dependence is revealed as a mechanism of self-de-struction; to cling to it in the face of God's invitation to trust is a thinly veiled self hatred.
p. 18
The Spirit's work is to make the believer like Christ, and being like Christ means living through certain kinds of human experience--not once, but daily. The second letter to the Corinthians is Paul's most passionate meditation on this. Here he speaks of the daily affliction, the daily rejection, the daily dying by which the Spirit works, transforming us "from one degree of glory to another (2 Cor. 3:18). The veil of the law is removed, illusion is stripped away, but only slowly does this penetrate every area of human living. And it penetrates by means of the pervasive and inexorable experience of failure, by the "wasting away" (2 Cor. 4:16) of the instincts that look for clarity, ease and effectiveness and the acceptance of the hiddenness of God's working.
p.19 
Here is the transfiguration from glory to glory, realized daily in the absurd, the biter, even the comical; this is, surprisingly, what it is to live in the Messsianic age and to be conformed to the pattern of the Messiah. When the future breaks into the present order, it shows itself in Paul's "folly" for Christ, in the stupid incongruities of this curious life in two worlds.