You can safely say that I don’t get out much. Local cultural events here on the prairie - whether they be live concerts or cow-tipping - don’t manage too often to shift me from the schedule I need to keep for work. Movies, no matter the hype, are rarely going to get me to go out once I get off work. “But Rick,” I’ve heard this argument before “aren’t you being anti-social like that? Don’t you ever want to go out and do something with your friends?” Yes, I do like to go out and do things with my friends - but sitting in the dark eating popcorn while we all stare out at a great screen is not what I classify as a social activity. Every now and then, I make an exception - Fireproof was one such example. The social activity was getting together for dinner before the movie with another couple from our small-group, then hooking up with the rest of the folks from the group that were going. That more than made up for the passive nature of watching a flick in the local multiplex and calling it a social activity.
None of that changes my nature, however, and I am most definitely a movie buff. I’m probably the only person in the U.S. whose wife, when asked why I wasn’t present in church one particular Sunday, happily allayed their concerns about my health by letting everyone know that I had decided to stay at home because the original 1933 version of King Kong was on a commercial-free channel (funny I didn’t hear the laughter at home; she swears that everyone in the church was rolling on the floor when she’d finished telling the tale). It seemed only fitting, then, that this time she would pick out a movie for her anniversary present to me, and that I would fall in love with it.
Bella is one of those films a lot of critics might classify as a sleeper, or a feel-good movie. I’d have to go along with the idea of it being a feel-good movie, but it was so much more. For those who, like me, don’t get out much anymore, I won’t spoil the story or give away any of the themes. Sensitive material, handled with the deftest of touches. Superior performances by everyone involved in front of and behind the camera made this a film worth seeing when it was released to theaters… and to my wife, who continues to bless me daily, thank you for this most perfect choice of anniversary gift, and I’m sure that the welts and bruises that all 12 of the church members sustained falling down laughing are healed by now.
Tags: Faith, Forgiveness, Healing
When you play in a praise team band, you have to have the ability to change everything on very short notice. Therefore, I propose this as the new praise team mascot and motto for all denominations that have more than a piano player/organist on the platform on Sunday mornings.
Tags: Daily Life, Humor
As a side effect of aging, coupled with years of having my ears near guitar amplifiers, cymbals, and other assorted musical instruments, as well as my current job which adds in the sounds of jet engines, I’m getting a little harder of hearing these days. Mind you, I’m not deaf by any stretch, but sometimes I don’t hear things right, so I asked my oldest son to repeat himself. We’d been having one of those rambling conversations about how much the town I’d used to live in had changed so much, and how what were once minor landmarks were now either non-existent or magnified beyond reason when he referred to a certain Baptist church (once firmly in the minor landmark category) as the First National Bank of God.
Once I was certain I’d heard aright, I asked him why he called it that, and his answer was a bit disconcerting. First, he said, it didn’t look like a church at all, with the exception of the steeple and the cross atop it. In his eyes, it looked like a bank and, as it came into view, I could see where he got that impression. A major building project had changed it from a sleepy little church into a megachurch colossus, complete with faux Ionian columns and a massive marquee with every bell and whistle built in. The sanctuary, he told me, had been redone so it was more like a movie theater, with huge screens up front.
As he continued to tell me the reasons for his negative assessment of this church, things didn’t get much better. When last I lived in town, the church took up a corner. As a part of the building program, the church purchased two houses on lots behind the sanctuary, and then burned the homes to the ground so as to add room for the pre-school playground and off-street parking. In his eyes, the purchase of the homes was fine but burning them to the ground was grossly inappropriate.
His rant continued on for a few more minutes, and I countered the arguments that I could in good conscience, not knowing anything of the processes and events that had come about to make this particular church such an object of derision for my son. What made it uncomfortable for me was that I could see many of those same criticisms being leveled at not just the church I attend, but at so many others across America. A drive-by of Central’s campus wouldn’t cause the average viewer to think bank - but they would certainly think that a lot of money is tied up in that building and grounds complex (and they would be right).
I cannot help but wonder when God went into the real estate business on Earth, requiring that His children erect auditoriums that rival the concert facilities of major cities, all in an ongoing attempt to reach “the unchurched” using the tools of the world. I’ve heard all the arguments put forward by our local big church folks, but now I’m asking you, the readers here - at what point does our need for worship space and our style of worship become yet another bullseye for the world to aim its criticisms at? Is God in need of a church that looks like a bank, or an auditorium?
He’s at it again. Michael Newdow, American atheism’s poster child, now wants to remove references to God from the upcoming Presidential Inauguration. You have to admire the chutzpah of the guy - he also plans to attend so long as one of California’s senators will provide him with a ticket.
Tags: Atheism, Election, God, Politics, Pop Culture
It has been a crazed week at work. Flights have been canceled left and right, temps are bitterly cold, co-workers are sick, and as a result my schedule went down the toilet. Nice, predictable, orderly schedule, meet the norm for the winter season; to wit, irregular operations. So then, why is this man smiling?
First, because my work is enjoyable even when things go horribly, horribly wrong. Second, we’re past the winter solstice - on our way back to springtime, be it ever so imperceptibly, and third, I leave for Virginia on Christmas morning to spend time with my sons. If I don’t post again between now and my return to the prairie, may God bless and keep all of you.
