Mystery men.

In Mystery Men, a movie from a few years back, William H. Macy, Ben Stiller and Hank Azaria starred as a trio of lesser superheroes with fairly unimpressive superpowers. The opening scene is in Champion City, a metropolis in a slightly altered (but not enough to really work) comic book-style reality, where costumed crimefighters (many with mediocre “powers”) are in oversupply, to the point that many of them are out looking for work. Three such individuals are “The Shoveler” (Macy), who can wield a shovel pretty well; “Mr. Furious” (Stiller), who has the “ability” to get very, very angry; and “The Blue Raja” (Azaria), a self-described “effete British superhero” who throws forks and spoons (but refuses to use knives), and wears a green turban (a running joke being that, despite his name, his costume has no blue in it whatsoever). This motley crew arrives to foil a robbery in an old-folks home by a similarly inept band of villains. They are largely incompetent at what they do, and are quickly upstaged by Captain Amazing (Greg Kinnear)—this guy is a genuine superhero, who arrives just in time to save the day and completely upstages the “wannabe” heroes, who are treated as a joke by the police officers, villains, civilians on the scene, and Captain Amazing himself. As far as faith is concerned, there are a lot of Captain Amazings in the Evangelical church. As much as I would like to be, I am not one of them. I feel much more like “Mr. Furious.” I can make lots of noise, express large emotions … but that’s about it. I wish my faith were really big. Don’t misunderstand me, I believe in God most of the time. And I have my moments when I know that I know He is present in my life. But I have moments when I wonder if I’m wrong; times when I have a taste of doubt in my soul. Faith is a tricky business for me—the idea of living my whole life for someone I’ve never seen is a pretty gnarly enterprise. Some claim they never experience tension or doubt in their faith. They seem to project a kind of faith that is always an ecstatic, absolute and full of an unwavering “knowing” that overwhelms them at all times—always clean; forever effervescent; never encroached upon with doubt. These are the super-faith people. I’m just not there. I think the whole nature of faith is untidy, and I would argue God made it that way. I think faith is about persistence in the face of uncertainty and doubt. Some think faith completely eliminates the presence of doubt, and that if doubt is present, it is an indicator that one doesn’t have faith. But I don’t agree. There is a great story in the life of Jesus where He asked a guy if he had faith. The man responded to the Lord, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24) Notice that it is possible to believe and still be wrestling with “unbelief.” It turns out that faith is not about absolute certainty. Just because you have doubts, it does not mean you do not have faith. The guy in the Jesus-story asked that his doubt be “overcome” so that it would not be the prevailing force in his life. It’s a good thing to ask. That is the basic battle of faith—we must fight so that our doubts don’t drown our faith. But there is nothing wrong with the struggle. For many people of faith, the idea of experiencing doubt at all makes them very nervous. They view the questions that rise in their minds as evidence of a lack of faith, which surely disqualifies them from being authentic believers. So they shove their doubts into their subconscious in Pollyanna-ish fashion. But what if it’s not true? What if honest doubt is actually the essence of faith? What if real faith has doubt in the mix, as a coin has two sides? That would mean struggling with doubt is not a lack of faith; it would actually be faith! I think it is healthy to be uncertain every now and then. Frederick Buechner wrote, “Every morning you should wake up in your bed and ask yourself: ‘Can I believe it all again today?’ … At least five times out of 10, the answer should be ‘No’ because the ‘No’ is as important as the ‘Yes,’ maybe more so.” It turns out that considering the “What if it’s true?” juxtaposed up against the “What if it’s not?” is a healthy thing to do spiritually. We should not be ashamed if we are drawn like magnets to the uncertainties and questions inherent in faith. Faith, after all, is not supposed to come naturally. Faith is the venture of human consideration and divine illumination. Only in a world where faith is difficult can faith exist. I believe God wants people of faith to question, to wonder, to get disturbed, to seek for tenable answers. Faith is not the quelling of all sense of doubt, but the result of a choice after one has honestly and earnestly sought to understand. If this is a true description of faith, then faith is more like an intense mud-wrestling contest than anything else. It’s hard, sometimes painful, often disorienting and always messy—certainly not a cheery, no-conflict, refreshingly bubbly, perpetual happy place. Overall, faith has won the day in my soul. Something deep within me—like the E.T.-phone-home beacon—draws me inexorably back to the pursuit of the Holy. But I still get thrown and disturbed from time to time, and I think God likes it that way.

The Art of Following

I can barely get through a day without seeing some kind of ad, email, or marketing for some kind of leadership camp, retreat, or book. As Christian culture, we love the idea of being a leader. We rally around heroes, we base sermons on principles learned from John Maxwell books, and we aspire to be like William Wallace.

But when was the last time you heard of a conference to learn how to be a better follower? Or read a book about Mother Theresa’s undernuns (that’s my term for people who worked for Mama T, which is obviously her street name) We, as the church, spend a lot of time focusing on leadership, when probably at least 60% are followers. In order for a church to work there needs to be leaders and followers. And we should celebrate that fact.

Being a follower is NOT.a bad thing, despite all of the propaganda otherwise. But just like leaders, there are ways to be a good follower or a bad one. Here’s some tips for being a great follower;

1. Recognize and Support your Spiritual Authority

John Bevere wrote an excellent book about this called “Under Cover”, In it he explains that Spiritual Authority is a great covering put in place by God for our protection. This is where I fail the most.I have a severe case of spiritual pride where I think I have the most amazing idea and I try and pull it off without a covering or outside of the covering in place and I fall flat on my face. So support your spiritual authority no matter what, even if you think their idea sucks. And you’ll be blessed for doing so.

2. Recognize your Gifts.

Know what your good at, what your passions are, then chase after it! And if you don’t know, then try everything until something clicks. When you find it, go for it with all you can. Throw yourself behind a leader who has the same passions. And use your resources to hone your skills in whatever field you find yourself in.

3. Be content.

Despite the emphasis on being a leader, if being a follower is your thing, be content with that. Jesus gathered followers around Him. He didn’t go to all the leaders of the day and say, “Hey, all you pharisees, come lead with me, we’ll butt heads and fight all the time!!” Naw, He said follow me and I will make you fishers of men.”

Jesus loves followers.

Church of Stories – For Allie

Until the past century, religions used to give us a place to tell even our worst stories. Depict our most-terrible intentions. Once each week, you could turn your sins into a story and tell them to your peers. Or to a leader, who’d forgive you and accept you back into your community. Each week, you confessed, you were forgiven, and you received communion. You never strayed too far outside the group because you had this regular release. Maybe the most important aspect of salvation is having this forum, this permission and audience, for expressing our lives as a story. 
It would be a forum safe enough for you to look terrible.
But as church becomes a place where people go to look good — instead of being the one, safe place where they could risk looking bad — we’re losing that regular storytelling forum. And the salvation, redemption and communion it allows.
Instead, now people go to therapy groups, twelve-step recovery groups, chat rooms, phone-sex hotlines, even writers workshops, to turn their lives and crimes into stories, express them, craft them, and in doing so be recognized by their peers. Brought back into the flock for another week. Accepted.
With this in mind: Our need to turn even the darkest parts of life — especially the darkest parts — into stories… our need to tell those stories to our peers… and our need to be heard, forgiven and accepted by our community . . . how about we start a new religion?
We could call this the “Church of Story.” It would be a performance place where people could exhaust their stories, in words or music or sculpture. A school where people could learn craft skills that would give them more control over their story, and thus their life. This would be a place where people could step out of their lives and reflect, be detached enough to recognize a boring pattern or irrational fears or a weak character and begin to change that. To edit and rewrite their future. If nothing else, this could be a place where people would vent and be heard, and at that point maybe move forward.
It would be a forum safe enough for you to look terrible. Express terrible ideas.
In modern history, frustrated, powerless people have turned to churches. During the last years of segregation, people found each other in churches and recognized they weren’t alone. Their personal problems were not only their own.
This “Church of Story” would give people a forum for connecting. Here, we’d have a regular time and place and permission to tell stories to each other. Instead of ignoring this need or fulfilling it at Starbucks in the window of time created by a cappuccino — or wearing a fake beard and gluing our story on the wall of an art gallery — we could give people the permission and structure they need to gather. To tell stories. To tell better stories. To tell great stories. To live great lives.

The Wonder…

Everyone wants to be the hero,

Looking so shiny and flawless to the rest.

Fighting every good fight,

And winning.

Saving the day,

When no one else can.

Flashy Smiles and costumes,

are a pretty veneer.

We stand proud and tall, 

even while we slump and cower.

We say the perfect words and do all the right things,

When everyone else is watching.

We pat ourselves on the back,

As we sit in bloodstained pews.

We listen to a diatribe by a sharp dressed man,

Fighting feelings of reflection.

We don’t need an altar,

repentence is for the weak.

A smug look is cast in every direction,

looking for the quickest exit.

If they get the chance to look close enough,

they’ll see the cracks in your facade.

You’re not the stunning example,

of everything right.

Wrath, Lust, Sloth, Greed, Pride, Gluttony, Envy,

These are inside your tightly locked heart.

I love people-watching. There, I said it. The craziest, busiest, loudest places are where I like to be. Concerts, Malls, or Downtown, I love looking at peoples faces, how they carry themselves. I love guessing what they’re thinking, what they’re whispering to a friend, or even what they’re listening to on their Ipod. It’s a guilty pleasure of mine.

You can always tell things about a person, by the way they act, talk, walk, their facial expressions, and their interactions with others. And I love doing that. It’s something that almost comes naturally to me.

I was at the casino tonight with a friend, and as I looked down the aisles between the slot machines at the “players” faces, I didn’t see one smile. Everyone wore the same blank expression. Loser or Winner, the faces looked exactly alike. Except for the eyes, there was sadness in the majority of them. People who had problems, just like you and me. But without one thing. Redemption.

The world sits there. Not knowing anything of this joy, this power, this salvation, and many times we sit there, o.k. with that.

This is an admonition to you. Let your heart seriously break for those who don’t know Him. Look into peoples eyes when you pass them, see the pain, the hurt, the emptiness. Run towards those who are lost.

Show love. Show Grace. Show the freedom that He has given you.

Isaiah 61: 1-3 

1 The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, 
       because the LORD has anointed me 
       to preach good news to the poor. 
       He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, 
       to proclaim freedom for the captives 
       and release from darkness for the prisoners,

 2 to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor 
       and the day of vengeance of our God, 
       to comfort all who mourn,

 3 and provide for those who grieve in Zion 
       to bestow on them a crown of beauty 
       instead of ashes, 
       the oil of gladness 
       instead of mourning, 
       and a garment of praise 
       instead of a spirit of despair. 
       They will be called oaks of righteousness, 
       a planting of the LORD 
       for the display of his splendor.

Webcams are Weird!

I’ve been webcamming with a girl I know on line for the last 5 hrs! She’s totally rad, and it’s been really fun getting my whole household into it. Austin serenaded her, Jeff added a few weird poses and Kyle just hung out for a while on cam. She’s totally rad, and Rocks my Socks. It’s funny how web cams can make you aware of every imperfection about yourself. From how balding I am, to my complex about my lips. Seeing myself made me become so prideful. I was so concerned over how I looked, without caring about my true personality shining through and making a good impression that way, i was more concerned about my looks. I should worry about making an impression with my character and integrity more thank looks and such.  My pride always comes up, I’m ready to kill it and start living more selflessly. In short, I need to stop obsessing and being a DIVA!

Sunny Days are an aphrodesiac for the soul.

I’m sitting here at work on an empty pickle bucket being incredibly lazy. It’s sunny out and I opened the back door and have been sitting here in the sun for 20 minutes or so. It’s funny how the sun can improve my mood so much. I feel relaxed and happy and stress-free sitting here. I need to do this more often.