Walkin' the Line

Years ago, a minister named Kenneth Hagin made a comment that the Christian church goes to such extremes that it finds itself in either one ditch or the other, never seeming to stay in the middle of the road very long. Even though he was the leading voice of the Name-it-claim-it faith movement (clearly nestled in one of the ditches), I have to say that he was on to something there.

Extremes. That seems to sum up us humans pretty well. We go all in on the things that we are drawn to. Some are simply more culturally acceptable than others. For instance, thanks to recent Marvel movies, being a comic book geek is not such a weird thing anymore. Those people have moved out of their parents' basements and now are filling convention centers to beyond capacity. Are they extremists? In a sense, yes. But they are acceptable extremists.

As a person on a sabbatical from "intellectual Christianity", I find myself reflecting on what brought me to where I am. I also find I'm hypersensitive to the extremes. Maybe it's my fear of finding myself in one of the ditches again.

I used to be in one ditch as a youth. I was, what I considered, a devout Catholic. I was an altar boy. I read my father's prayer book (including the Latin - which was indecipherable to me) over and over. As I grew older, I joined the music team at the church - making up tenor harmonies as a 14-year old in a then-contemporary guitar group. Even after becoming a born-again Christian (which could be considered an extreme by some), I still attended the Catholic church for awhile.

As I mentioned above, I was what I considered a devout Catholic. Recently, my wife and I had an experience with a REALLY devout Catholic that ended up spawning this particular post.

Since I started this sabbatical, my wife has chosen to go to a local Catholic church. In their bulletin was a blurb asking for donations of gently-used Catholic items. There is a Catholic book/gift store that was accepting these donations. My wife had some that travelled from her condo to our house that never really got out of the boxes. We gathered them up and went to drop them off. There we met a lady on staff who believed every person who walked in was straight from the Vatican in their devotion to Catholicism. We certainly didn't fit the description, but she didn't know that. She talked about Saint This and Sister So-and-So, and showed us books from authors I've never heard of. They might as well have been bloggers! (Oh, wait.)

As we were trying to leave, she kept bringing up more and more things that might interest. The last was to point out the state banner of Mary (apparently, every state has one for their individual state). If we wanted to, we were encouraged to bring in our rosaries so that we could touch them to the banner and receive a special blessing.

It was a bit muddy in that ditch.

On the Protestant side, as I've made known in previous blogs, we have the worship of the bible. Just because you put the word "Holy" on the cover, does not automatically make it an object of worship. I believe that the bible CONTAINS the word of God, but it is NOT the word of God. There are many things in there that are clearly historical in nature, and statements made by the writers that tell you what you are reading is their opinion and not that of the Lord. (For example, the tradition of dedicating children instead of baptizing them is based on something Paul said, and not the Lord - 1 Corinthians 7:12-14 NKJV)

There is a passage in the epistles (2 Timothy) that says all scripture is given by inspiration of God. This is one of those passages that I hear quoted to prove that the whole bible is inspired of God, and therefore worthy of the title of "Holy". I like to point out that when Paul wrote that letter to Timothy, he was not referring to the letter he was writing as scripture! That's a lot of hutzpah! In actuality, whenever "scripture" is referenced in the New Testament, what is referred to is the OLD Testament. That was all they had! They had no idea that what they were writing was going to be compiled into a book.

So, on one side you have the worship of the bible - that everything in it is pure, inerrant, and holy, and on the other you have touching rosaries to pictures of Mary to get blessings - which is found NOWHERE in the bible.

Extremism is found on both sides of the aisle, for sure. It's easy to go from one side to the other. If man says it, most likely it has an agenda and is full of error. Think of the extreme sides when it comes to climate change, evolution, religious beliefs, politics, and whether or not coffee (chocolate, or eggs) is good for you.

So in closing, consider taking a spiritual Breathalyzer, try to walk the line, and stay out of the ditches!

(The title is inspired from Johnny Cash's "I Walk the Line" - "I keep a close watch on this heart of mine. I keep my eyes wide open all the time. … I walk the line.")

© Emittravel 2014

A "Death Angel" Christmas

Since Lisa and I got married there has been a melding of family "traditions". One of the ones she brought to our house was the invasion of little elves.

You may know them as the recent incarnation of "The Elf on a Shelf". Apparently, her father gave them the name "Malakh ha-mavet".

Please understand, Malakh ha-mavet is the Hebrew word for Angel of Death, so calling these cute little elves this, adds a whole new dimension to our holiday festivities.

With my in-laws living in Florida, we alternate Christmases between Florida and Ohio. On the years we are home, we deck out the place with the tree, wreaths, flowers, statues, lights, and of course, the malakh ha-mavets. On those years we are not home, we don't put out all of the decorations; only a few things, and of course that means the malakh ha-mavets.

We think our cat, Harley, lets them in.

From there they take over the place.

There's even one in my Jeep.

As with the Elf on a Shelf, they will move around the house.

And with a name like malkh ha-mavet, we don't think they are spying and sending reports back to Santa of whether we've been naughty or nice. We think THEY are the naughty ones!

May you and your families have a wonderful Christmas!



You and the pink flamingo you rode in on!!

© Emittravel 2014

Me, Myself, and I

I wanted to follow up on a comment I made on my last blog ("You Don't Say!"). It was rather in passing, and was actually added during the final read through. "NOTHING like worshipping with live music." Even though I was there in spite of my sabbatical, I didn't want to miss the opportunity to worship with the music team I was so fond of playing (harmonica, percussion, and vocals) with - even if was not "with" them, but in the congregation.

Worshipping God at home has two disadvantages: the songs on the recordings are usually pitched in a way that my harmonicas seem out of tune, and, more importantly to me, there are no words projected on the screen. Ours is a church without hymnals. We use PowerPoint projected on the wall/screen at the back of the platform for the congregation. There is a duplicate projection on the back wall (for the singers on the music team, and so the preacher can see where he/she is at during the sermon by which slide is being projected). Since I am normally adding harmonica (can't sing while playing) or percussion (can't sing while playing - I come from a predominantly Caucasian family, and we all know white guys have no rhythm. How many people you know COUNT while playing a tambourine?!?), I really don't know the words to the songs. So, singing them at home I find myself mumbling my way through them.

One of the things I've been noticing during my sabbatical is that a lot of the music we use for praise and worship is "I" focused. "My God, is an awesome God. He reigns, from heaven above." "Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, and now am found. Was blind, but now I see."

During my visit we sang one where I found myself changing the lyrics part of the way through. Here is the original:

"Awesome" by Charles Jenkins

"My God is awesome, He can move mountains
Keep me in the valley, hide me from the rain
My God is awesome, heals me when I'm broken
Strength where I've been weakened, forever He will reign
(repeat)

My God is awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome
My God is awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome

My God is awesome, Savior of the whole world
Giver of salvation, by His stripes I am healed
My God is awesome, today I am forgiven
His grace is why I'm living, praise His holy name

My God is awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome
My God is awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome

He's mighty, He's mighty, He's mighty, He's mighty
Awesome, Awesome

He's Holy, He's Holy, He's Holy, He's Holy
Awesome, Awesome

He's Great, He's Great, He's Great, He's Great
Awesome, Awesome

Deliverer, Deliverer, Deliverer, Deliverer
Awesome, Awesome

Provider, Provider, Provider, Provider
Awesome, Awesome

Protector, Protector, Protector, Protector
Awesome, Awesome

My God is awesome, He can move mountains
Keep me in the valley, hide me from the rain
My God is awesome, heal me when I'm broken
Strength where I've been weakened,
Praise His holy name"

First off, I want to say that is a wonderful song. I add a bass harmony at church, some simple cabasa percussion, and find I can't keep my feet still. I'm not dissing it. But I want you to go back and look at the pronouns. God is referenced as the third party "He", whereas the focus of the song is in actuality in the possessive "My". "I want to tell you that it is MY God that is awesome. MY God moves mountains. MY God heals ME when I'M broken. You should praise His holy name."

Is that the focus of worship? It's one thing to sing a song like this in front of an audience, but when you are leading the congregation in worship, the focus should be on God, not on my telling you about Him. The desire is to have the congregation sing WITH you in worship, not listen to you.

Next time you are worshipping, try changing the pronouns and give Him the honor He deserves.

Oh God You're awesome, You can move mountains
You keep me in the valley, hide me from the rain
Oh God You're awesome, You heal me when I'm broken
Strength where I've been weakened, forever You will reign

(repeat)

Oh God You're awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome
Oh God You're awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome

Oh God You're awesome, Savior of the whole world
Giver of salvation, by Your stripes I am healed
Oh God You're awesome, today I am forgiven
Your grace is why I'm living, praise Your holy name

Oh God You're awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome
Oh God You're awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome

You're mighty, You're mighty, You're mighty, You're mighty
Awesome, Awesome

You're Holy, You're Holy, You're Holy, You're Holy
Awesome, Awesome

You're Great, You're Great, You're Great, You're Great
Awesome, Awesome

Deliverer, Deliverer, Deliverer, Deliverer
Awesome, Awesome

Provider, Provider, Provider, Provider
Awesome, Awesome

Protector, Protector, Protector, Protector
Awesome, Awesome

Oh God You're awesome, You can move mountains
You keep me in the valley, hide me from the rain
Oh God You're awesome, You heal me when I'm broken
Strength where I've been weakened,
Praise You're holy name

Change the focus and make the worship conversational. After all, you are worshipping Him. And He IS awesome.

© Emittravel 2014

You Don't Say!

As we grow up, there are a number of words deemed "inappropriate" to say. There was one that was the most egregious of them all. It's funny to me when I think about it: my parents said it all of the time. And now, as an adult, I find that using it is one of the most difficult things to do. You know which word I mean:

No.

That's right, "no". (What word were YOU thinking?!?)

There are some people with whom I have a harder time with its usage than others. Those tend to be friends. You'd think that would be my wife … or my boss. Nope. Friends. I find that I will put myself in an uncomfortable position later, so as not to use the word now. Let me give you a recent example.

For those of you who normally follow my blog or are intimate enough in friendship with me know, I am on a "sabbatical" from "intellectual Christianity". For those of you who aren't aware, you can check the following: one, two, three. A few weeks ago, my friend Jim and I were out having dinner, when he mentioned that the building fund offering song we did last year ("12 Days of Christmas" was being requested for another go.

As a quick overview: my church has a mortgage (insert sarcasm font - "shocking, I know"), and on the first Sunday of the month receives a special offering to help reduce it. Usually, we take a song, rewrite the lyrics, and perform it like the original. Usually the song is a humorous and "Christian" retelling. Thus the non-traditional "12 Days".

Since I was the lead vocal, Jim asked if I wouldn't mind leading it again this year. I, of course, told him, "No. I am on a sabbatical and am uncomfortable with the idea of standing before the congregation after being absent for these many weeks. This is a needed time and I need this separation."

Truth? I said, "Sure."

As the weeks went by, I more and more regretted my inability to say, "no". Just over a week ago, Jim sent an email out to those doing the song that we would have a rehearsal on Sunday (last week) after service to run through it. I emailed him back and got a good estimate of when that would be, since I did not plan on attending the service. I could see cars leaving the parking lot as I approached, so I knew that either service was over, or that those who bail early (for brunch?) were on their way out. I parked, walked in with minimal contact, and did the rehearsal. (The rehearsal consisted of one, train-wrecked run through.) I got caught by a couple of friends on my way out the door, and I was on my way home.

Part of my trepidation was that I did not want to have to explain everything to anybody for my absence. ("Read my blog, for cryin' out loud! I posted the links four times on Facebook!!") Partially, because I didn't want to make it seem like I was disrespecting our pastor. My wife said that it was not anyone's business, and that I did not owe them anything. If asked, just tell them I was on a sabbatical. That should be enough. If pressed, then they asked for it! That helped with my attending the rehearsal. I still had to be there for the performance.

Today (as this is being written) was the performance. A run-through rehearsal is done BEFORE the service starts, and the song is performed at the END of the service. That meant I had to be there at 09:30 for the rehearsal, service started at 10:00, and the song should take place around 11:15. My plan was to get there, do the rehearsal, and leave until the time for the song.

I got there at 09:30. I walked in and immediately went to the back room (behind the platform) to drop off my stuff. There was a special ensemble performance taking place for the regular offering, and they were rehearsing, so we didn't start our rehearsal until 09:40 or so. Fortunately, we had a chance to run over it twice (as the first time through was another train wreck. Second time came out great.)

I went in the back until the praise and worship portion of the service started (again, minimizing my contact with folks). I "snuck in" to the sanctuary through a side door, and spent time praising and worshipping God. NOTHING like worshipping with live music.

After it was over, I went back through the same door to hang out in the back room until time for the song. From there I can hear a muffled version of the service (occasionally listening by the door to determine where in the service it was). I visited with two members of the music team who came through, read, and watched the clock.

As I mentioned above, the building fund offering should be around 11:15. 11:15 came and went. Today we had a guest speaker who did not speak English. He would make a statement, and it would be interpreted. He would make another statement, and that would be interpreted. So, in actuality, the sermon took about twice as long.

When the sermon was over, close to noon, the pastor came up and said that the building fund would be postponed until next week. I turned to grab my stuff and head out the door, thinking that there goes three hours of my life I'll never get back. Jim opened the door to tell me what the pastor had said, and asked if I would be willing to come back and do the song next week. I told him, "Sure Jim. No problem. I'd be happy to come back and do this all over again."

Actually, I said, "Maybe you can find another song for next week."

I was proud of myself. I said, "No."

© Emittravel 2014