Echoes and Moments

It hasn't been a good week for evangelical Christianity in terms of media attention. Instead of continuing a long discourse on these topics that will no doubt add to the bewildering amount of chatter surrounding Phil Robertson's controversial statements , I'd like to draw attention to one post from an artist I admire. Her name is Audrey Assad, and you might recognize her modestly beautiful voice singing alongside such fellow CCM giants as Chris Tomlin and Matt Maher. She summarizes her perspective with clarity and draws an important distinction between herself and the voices coming to the aid of Robertson's vitriol:   I want to uphold the dignity of each human life—and as a part of that commitment, I strive to resist the tendency to reduce people to their sexual drives, homosexual or heterosexual or otherwise. Phil Robertson’s perspective on the morals of homosexual marriage may overlap with mine, but I do not arrive at my conclusions about that, or my beliefs abo

In the middle of the night When dreams suspend belief In the shadows of death's fright I saw you. You wailed my name aloud Before your arms stretched wide With hospital gown a shroud I saw you. The whirlpool of death's shame Your tyranny so clear Mind breaking every frame I saw you. And grace imbues the whole Sick with grief you wept Your majesty so bold I saw you. Mistook your "I" for mine They locked you in that room Shoved pills in every time I saw you. Naked you crawled in mourning Alive you were indeed The yoke lifted soaring I saw you. But me you did not trust You kept your mind's old game And played the part to dust, and I saw you. The little ones did say Reminding you every night The childlike way to pray, I saw you. My father raises life Adopted now you he claims Your broken tattered strife I saw you. My shoulders are enough You've suffered here and far No road will be too rough, for I saw you. And win

This has been a lonely season for me. I would describe my station in the spiritual journey as a desert, or the wilderness, if you prefer. Don't be alarmed for me; this is a familiar (and deeply sacred) place.  If you've been reading this blog at all, you'll know that I love the desert for its beauty, peace, and tranquility. Not only does the desert remind me of my patria , New Mexico, but it encourages me to look to God when all else seems hopeless and all life seems distant.  I am reading an excellent book by that great master of spiritual formation, Henri J.M. Nouwen (1932-1996), called Reaching Out . In it, he explains how loneliness is one pole of a spectrum of the spiritual journey. The other pole, which God draws us towards, is solitude. He quotes that great master of solitude, the Trappist Monk Thomas Merton (1915-1968). I hope you find this helpful if you, like me, struggle to allow God to draw you away from yourself, into himself, and into the deeper consc

If you're on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram, you may know that Thursdays have been reduced to a meaningless hashtag "#tbt," otherwise known as "Throwback Thursday." Although I'd normally give an exasperated gasp when scrolling through these feeds, I'm pleasantly surprised by the treasures that can be found after some good retrospective digging. My generation grew up in the 90s, a decade I've written about before and am decidedly biased towards for the extraordinary amount of good music it produced. Today, my #tbt is aimed at Radiohead's sophomore effort, 1995's The Bends . This album is never at the top of the critics list, nor does it include any of the best songs the band has written. It lies awkwardly between their debut Pablo Honey , most famous for their single "Creep," and OK Computer, often named by fans and critics alike as one of the greatest albums ever made. For a die-hard Radiohead fan like myself, their first

Sufjan Stevens in 2005. My latest poem was inspired by an album that I listened to as I drove from Fresno to my current home in Roseville. The music? Sufjan Steven's classic album Come on Feel the Illinoise! . Because it came out in 2005 (a pretty dead year for good music), and because of how much I enjoyed this guy's stuff as a teenager, I was surprised by how much the music holds up after such popularization. Kids in my generation know "Chicago" for its movie soundtrack overtones  (click if you don't believe me), or even "Casimir Pulaski Day" for how Stevens uses a religious experience to inform his perspective on a close friend's death. People of all ages should listen to it because it is just good music. I'm still holding onto the dream that he finishes his project to write an album about every state! Only 48 to go! Same guy, with his wife and kids in 3005. This poem's title is my tribute to that great dreamer.  But the p

Yup, today the Government shut down. It's on days like these that I don't particularly want to hear a song about how great it is to be alive, in love, playing with your puppy, whathaveyou.  That's probably why I write songs like this, an homage to a semi-obscure live cut by my favorite artists, Radiohead. If there was any occasion to link our collective simple desire not be alone with the heartbreak of being let down by those we trust, well, we found it today in our Congress (and, probably our President, as much as I hate to admit it). I'm definitely putting this one to music. Call it a cover/extension of Yorke's song. Just imagine his trembling tenor soothing you with these lines. All my thoughts are drowned when you make my make believe We'll tumble to the ground Just to sink too far beneath See life's a little brighter From the blinding of your gaze But what once drew me higher Now leaves this bitter taste Don't leave me here alone

If you don't understand this, or at least don't have a strong opinion about this,  then I WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND, PLEASE. I love the church. I love ministry, and I'm sold out on giving my entire life, resources, and talent to cooperate in its mission from here on out. Now, that doesn't mean I always like "church" in the sense of that regular religious practice of going to a local community worship gathering, navigating its bureaucracy, or processing any number of things that strikes a chord or a nerve related to music, preaching style, or theology. No, the vision is more dynamic than that, amplified, even widescreen in proportions. I serve in an interdenominational parachurch ministry, which means that I serve in partnership and interdependence with the Church universal. I take this notion of Church seriously, so much in fact, that I make it my business to engage and support dialogue across an unfortunately segmented and disjointed entity that sometimes

By now it should be apparent that I love to write about a few things. Beyond the theological frontiers of my service in active ministry, my travels, and my appreciation for new forms of creative expression in other societies and cultures, there are few things I love more than music. One of my criteria for friendship (come on, we all have them...) is how lively a conversation we can have about it. What type of music we enjoy can say a lot about us. Or, if we begin talking about Justin Bieber and Taylor Swift, it is pretty clear that music might not be all that important to you... Perhaps it is for this reason, how near and dear to me the conversation on music is to me, and how many of my friendships have flourished through an exchange of music, that I've delayed my second entry in this personal exploration of Mexican consciousness. In my first treatment of the subject, we looked at the dynamic field of film, which has reached crossover appeal and allowed an international audience

Like most young twenty-somethings employed in less-than-traditional roles, I find myself at least a few times a week at my favorite local coffee hangout. Although I normally rail against the corporate consumerism that enslaves our society, I have to admit my favorite spot to hammer out a few hours of work is the Starbucks on the other side of town. It's not that I particularly enjoy their coffee, music, or service. Rather, I like how much space there is (a surprise considering that the typical Starbucks is a poor work/meeting space, much more suited to refueling on-the-go as opposed to, say, your typical indie coffee shop) and how it is a perfect 15 minute drive from home (it means I feel like a "normal" person when I drive to and from the place). Plus, that Gold Card free refill is a lifesaver. My typical work regimen includes a batch of planning, emails, working on my schedule for appointments, travel, and budgeting. Woven into the mix are always spots for browsin

Life is interesting now that I'm posted for an indeterminate amount of time in Roseville, a town that I haven't called home in 6 years, in which I had only lived for 3 years before departing for college. I love the chance to dig into the nitty gritty of dependency on God , the good food abounding, and the chance to reconnect with many budding partners in the ministry the Lord is in the process of funding. Yet there are a few things I don't enjoy as much: the heat, the suburban traffic, and the persistent bewilderment I face when talking to many who think I should be doing "better" things with my life. So, because you are my friends and would never wish to dishonor me thus, I'll clue you into a few things that will prevent me from silently shrinking in horror the next time we are in conversation. I present: Three Questions you should never ask an InterVarsity staff worker (at least if you want them to continue liking you). The largest class of new staff e

Ok, so I was going to write my weekly blog contribution around the topic of the recent anniversaries of the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki . This occasion is an important one to reflect on our attitude of retribution, justice, and violence. Most especially, to hold us accountable for our attitude of "the means justify the ends." Yet the pastor of my parent's church gave a great word today about our attitude towards women and the effect it has on our Christian discipleship. As adherents to the kingdom of God, we believe in a reality of freedom bound in love (not simply unhindered liberty) in the gaze of our Creator God. In sharing his perfect, Triune love, we are compelled to live with each other perfectly, harmoniously, and peacefully. In short, our shared vision turns towards shalom . Still, we are wise to recognize the siren call of our culture that seduces us to return to the old slavery to our flesh (as Paul calls it), or our gridlocked mode of being that is sel

Yesterday was my Mom's birthday, and so I think it's appropriate to reflect on motherhood and its spiritual implications. People often note how beautiful, winsome, and charming my own mother is, and I'll go ahead and allow my ego to claim that I inherit some of that. Whether or not that is actually true, I am so proud of her for all her support, strength, and courage providing care for young people beyond my brother and myself. Her career in medical care, her upbringing in an international, multicultural context, and marriage to my Dad all speak to her unique ability to spread her love wide. To those that get to see her at all hours of the day, we know that she rarely withholds her own opinions or feelings. Indeed, she seems to feel strongly about most things; indifference is something that doesn't come naturally to her, and is probably why I have such a hard time holding my own tongue. Rather than interacting with our ethnicity through  machismo, she has infused

It's deep into Day 5 on my first of several large road trips I'll have to do in the process of gathering a team of committed supporters to fund the ministry I serve for next year. Above all, the great highlight has been the chance to reconnect with friends whom I would likely otherwise fall out of touch with. Some of these friends are married, some are engaged, and some have just taken the step of buying their own house. I do myself a disservice if I slip into comparison, or begin to heed the distracting voice that tempts me to ask, " What if? " Surely there are great sacrifices involved in depending on the generosity of others for your livelihood, but it brings me great joy to model a deep commitment to our relationships and an investment in a trust-based accountability partnership. My journeys have brought me from my burning hot posting in Sacramento through the Bay Area to Carmel, back into the furnace to my future home of Fresno, down to Los Angeles and out to w

In the world of Urban ministry, we take our cues from the legacy of John Perkins and the Christian Community Development ( CCDA ) movement, spearheaded in the 1960s and brought to the urban centers of North America for decades of turning urban blight into blessing. Some common lingo we use are the "Three R's" of community development: Relocation, Redistribution, and Reconciliation. This last concept is one that warrants quite a bit of discussion, since it takes on an obviously spiritual dimension apart from the others, whose criteria can be discussed in the latest socio-political and economic terms. Reconciliation is the third leg of this essential recipe for long-term sustainable transformation in a community, and is surely needed as we still reel in the aftermath of racist incidents in our so-called "post-racial" society. While this myth shatters, it is important for me to look for the sources that lead to the conditions that affect many dimensions of ou

If I were to place a disclaimer asterisk in front of what I'm writing about tonight, I'm afraid I couldn't capture the essence of what I'm saying in an abstract and detached way. No, tonight I am emotionally compromised, and I sense the well of anger rising within me, boiling with the scald of desperate pain within, a pain shared by millions now across our country. For the sake of our collective dignity, I must be frank. I've felt this way before on a few occasions. These are the times of grief, of shock, and tragedy. They can affect me in the most immediate and intimate sense, especially in the loss of a close friend (I've lost several to tragic accidents or violence through the years). Sometimes, however, I feel the hot tears well in my eyes simply by turning on the television, or listening to the radio. The last instance was in mid December 2012, when Adam Lanza cruelly murdered dozens in Newtown, Connecticut, sparking a national conversation on gun con