Wednesday, May 14, 2008

The Swell Season concert

Just went to see Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova perform at the Cobb Energy Performing Arts Center in Atlanta.

For those of you who have been living under a rock, Glen and Mar won the 2008 Oscar for Best Song for the tune “Falling Slowly,” featured in the John Carney-directed film “Once.” They both gave beautiful, heartfelt speeches at the Academy Awards, a breath of fresh air in this typically self-obsessed, self-congratulatory Hollywood affair.

First of all, the venue was amazing—it reminded me a bit of Lincoln Center—and of course makes Bob Carr look and sound like a landfill. Some chick opened up the set with some impressionistic piano pieces she had composed. Too bad they never announced what her name was and her name wasn’t listed on the program so who knows if I'll ever figure out who she was.

Finally, Glen came onstage at 9:05 with the houselights on. He performed "Say It To Me Now" unplugged--in the mode of the opening credit sequence of the film--and it was a completely perfect way to begin the show. He was shortly joined by Marketa on the piano and the rest of the band. They played most of the songs from the film (including my favorites "Lies", "When Your Mind's Made Up" and of course "Falling Slowly", several of the "Swell Season" songs and a few others I had never heard that were amazing.



The music was gorgeous, the acoustics in the room were wonderful, the mix was superb. It was completely worth it to spend my Delta SkyMiles and fly up for the evening to catch this show.

Glen truly knows how to engage the audience. He endearingly fumbles his way through the in-between-song banter, explaining certain metaphors in song lyrics and giving a running commentary on life and culture in the self-deprecating, angsty Irish way (He made a silly joke about E.T. and Protestants halfway through the set). It was a mix of the random, the poignant and the bluntly honest.

One of my favorite moments was when he was describing how life was kind of like him slamming up against the same wall over and over again and it absolutely won't give, and so he did a 180 and start walking and before he knew it he had walked across the face of the earth and ended up on the other side of that wall. What a perfect way to describe his career... After 15 plus years of playing with The Frames with little recognition beyond Ireland, it's this tiny film indie film "Once" that finally though unexpectedly launched him into "commercial" success.


Mar was more reticent than her counterpart (backstage, she apparently bet Glen $100 he couldn't get through the entire set tonight without talking) and personality-wise it seems they couldn't be more different, but when they sing and play together, they absolutely soar. Their voices blend seamlessly and they effortlessly anticipate each other's nuances.


I only wish that Mar had sung and played something solo on the piano. I was hoping she would do "The Swell Season" or "The Hill" but no dice. Also, Stephanie and I were hoping Glen would sing "Broken-Hearted Hoover Fixer Sucker Guy" during the encore but he didn't. They did however close with Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic" which I was very happy about.

Well right now I am running on about two shots of iced espresso, a cup of orange juice and a cup of Colombian and I still feel exhausted after catching a 7:20 a.m. flight this morning from Atlanta to Orlando but it was totally worth it.




Friday, May 9, 2008

B.J.'s

music: listening to ingrid michaelson

Last night, we went to the pre-opening of the new B.J.'s Brewhouse in the fast-expanding citadel known as The Loop in Kissimmee, FL. They're training all the servers, cooks and bartenders to prepare for next week's grand opening, so they decided to use the nearby residents as guinea pigs. Fortunately, the guinea pigs get an entirely complimentary meal out of the deal, so you really can't go wrong with that!

I had my heart set on fish tacos for some reason. I've only ever had fish tacos once before at the B.J.'s by the Millennia Mall because that combination of seafood and Mexican had always seemed weird to me, but I gave them a chance and they turned out to be phenom. So I really wanted fish tacos last night.

Alas, when we arrived at B.J.'s, I was informed that each table had only select menu items available. I suppose they're still managing the logistics and timing of everything in the kitchen, so each table and section only had a certain amount of entrees to order from. So unfortunately for me, fish tacos were a no go.

Instead, I chose the spinach and artichoke pizza and also the Maibock, the seasonal German speciality, typically available in the month of May. The Maibock turned out to a bit too hoppy and bitter in my opinion when combined with the pizza. The pizza was incredible (it had cream cheese mixed in with the spinach and artichoke!) and also probably incredibly bad for me.

We were also given the choice of either a surprise appetizer or a Pizookie dessert. We decided to go with the Pizookie, because that's always a safe bet. The avocado spring rolls are incredible but there was no guarantee we'd even get them. And if you've never had a Pizookie before, it's not heavy artillery as the name might suggest. It's basically heaven in dish-sized form: cookie dough baked in a pizza tin (Pizza + Cookie, get it?) and generously topped with vanilla bean ice cream.

And the best part? The meal was entirely FREE. boo yah.

On another note, how crazy was LOST last night? I always like to read the recaps on www.ew.com. They come up with all the symbolism, crazy theories and hidden trivia during each episode. A few thoughts...

  • I think this week confirmed to me that Claire is dead... or at least she's unalive. Or would that be undead? No, that would be zombies. Anyway, either way, she probably has a purpose now on the island and even though she's technically separated from Aaron, she's actually helping him by staying on the island. I don't think the island would bring her there under the pretense that her child must "not be raised by another" and then just take her child away from her for no good reason. Anyway, I don't think we've seen the last of her even though I'm pretty sure she's dead/undead/unalive.
  • Until this episode, I completely forgot that when the plane crashed on the island, Jack found his father's coffin (remember, the one that he was flying back to the States?) was EMPTY. So here's what I think... The island somehow made Jack's dad either come alive or at least somehow in semi-corporeal form. People that are seriously ill or incapacitated (enter John Locke and Rose) are healed by the island. Stands to reason that the island could make dead people come alive. However, the continual reappearance of Jack's father could be due to Jack's own imagination or unresolved psychological issues projecting in the image of his dad or whatever. It's probably a combination of both. Either way, the point is... the Island makes you see things that you need to deal with.

Monday, May 5, 2008

the Great Hall of Faith

Hebrews 11 has always perplexed me. My good friend Matt preached on this passage this past week, and while he did a fine job of using the passage as a basis for exhortation, I couldn’t quite grasp the passage much beyond the call to perseverance and faith and discipline, the same message I’ve always heard whenever this passage was preached. I found myself asking a couple of questions about things I had never noticed before.

First of all, there are very specific people that are chosen for this Great Hall of Faith. Most notably, Job is entirely excluded from the list. He’s not even included on the off-handed addendum “I do not have time to tell you about Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, David and Samuel and the prophets.” (By the way, nice work, Hebrews author guy. Ya knocked out all of the prophets in one fell swoop. Clever, you.) Job’s been a bit on my mind lately, so this time I was quick to notice the exclusion of Job from this list, this patient individual who underwent extreme suffering. If you’re going to laud and immortalize a "saint" via literary narrative tradition, who better than Job to serve as the example of perseverance and faith amid trial?

I felt as though either the author had entirely forgotten about Job, or simply had no idea how to fit this guy in the middle of this Great Hall of Faith and so conveniently skipped over him. And no wonder. Job’s not an easy character to deal with. His story makes us uncomfortable because there’s something about the economics of his life that doesn’t sit well with our modern sense of justice or a fluffy view of God.

Second, there were not only specific people that were chosen to be highlighted in this passage, but specific actions. Some of them were quite obviously appropriate, like with Abraham’s sacrifice of Isaac. That seemed to be the defining moment of not only Abraham’s life of faith, but of the Israelite nation to come.

But what about Joseph? The author highlighted his prophecy of the exodus of Egypt and that his bones be carried out of the land, not the years he spent languishing in jail or the prophetic dream interpretations or even his own perseverance despite egregious abuse by his older brothers and injustice by Potiphar. These are the events we often look to when celebrating Joseph’s faith, not some prophetic words spoken at the end of his life. My next question was, not only why did the author pick these specific people, but why did mention the specific actions?

So I decided to go back through Hebrews 11 and circle every action committed by the individual, in response to “by faith.” Of course, we know that faith is foremost where mind meets heart, where an intellectual knowledge intersects with heart-oriented action. In its stripped down form, faith by definition implies action, James' ole "Faith without works is dead" mantra. As I began to circle these words, I began to notice a pattern emerging. Nearly every action could be traced to something Christ Himself did:

  • From Abel “offered a better sacrifice”—Jesus offers the better sacrifice, once and for all
  • Enoch being “taken up so he would not see death,”—Jesus’ ascension to heaven, not tasting death; victory of life over death
  • Noah “prepared an ark,”—Christ preparing a vessel of salvation from divine judgment
  • Abraham “offered up Isaac,”—a Father allowing His precious Son to be sacrificed
  • Sarah “received ability to conceive,”—God working through a woman to miraculously produce a child—sounds like Mary’s story
  • Isaac blessed Jacob and Esau “regarding things to come,” Jacob “blessed each of the sons of Jacob,”
  • Joseph “made mention of the exodus” and “giving orders concerning his bones”—this echoes a prophecy concerning Joseph and Mary’s flight to and from Egypt
  • Moses “refusing to be called son of Pharaoh’s daughter, choosing rather to endure ill-treatment with the people of God,” and “keeping the Passover” and “passing through the Red Sea.”—Jesus giving up rights as God to choose suffering on behalf of the people, becoming the Passover lamb and delivering people from slavery

Every story and action that the author highlights points to the larger narrative of Christ, of the Father orchestrating events and working through the faith of people to accomplish redemption. This list isn’t a random assortment of great faith heroes where you merely say “Look at the amazing faith of these people. Now you go and do this same thing.” It’s so much more than that: It’s deliberately structured—like the building of some great pyramid—to draw our eyes and attention to one point or peak or zenith.

It kind of remind me of those recaps like “previously on LOST” where you string together the pertinent highlights of the past narrative to bring you to the current story. If the present episode is a "Jack and Kate"-centric episode, then the "previously on LOST" recap splices together past scenes of past episodes featuring Jack and Kate. There’s a sense of culmination, of all the pieces coming together for one express narrative purpose. This is what the author of Hebrews seems to be doing in this passage. He's bringing together all the threads of the gospel story together to feature the person of Jesus.

And one glaring reality: These people—limited by space and time—had no idea that their lives were part of the greater Christ narrative. They were faithful with what they had in relation to Yahweh, but there was no way they could predict—or anyone could predict for that matter—how closely intertwined their stories and lives would be with the story of humanity’s redemption. But this immense “cloud of witnesses” surrounds us today as we take our own part in the story.

This is where the story brings me back to Job. We’ve been discussing in our small group the idea of this “great cosmic drama.” Poor Job had no idea he was the center of this cosmic drama playing out in heaven between God and Satan. He only saw loss and grief and sickness and what he thought was God’s apparent hand of judgment on His life. One rare time we get a glimpse behind the supernatural curtain and we see there’s Satan walking around earth, creating havoc and destruction, and God sitting on His throne. God allows this bet, this wager by Satan to progress, because He knows the power of faith and love, of freely choosing, rather than allowing mere circumstance to determine Job’s response. And Job’s faith—even amid his questioning and pain—had widespread ramifications that echoed through the hallways of heaven and hell, but not even so loud as the booming God of voice resounding across creation as He shows how far outside of time and space He truly is.

I really can’t conclude if Job was excluded for any particular reason. Knowing me, I likely am just reading far too much into it. He is one among many in a great cloud of witnesses. If anything, his exclusion forced me to think on those who were included--and why.

As much as we humans claim we wish we could see the actual hand of God—fire from heaven, miracles, some obvious manifestation of His power—sometimes I wonder if we are choosing the lesser thing—a sign—over the greater thing—faith. And I do not intend this as the cop-out answer "Just have faith." It's not an irrational leap as some would say, but reacting and responding authentically to the person of Christ—the One who loves and suffered on our behalf—with a life of discipleship, of denying self and taking up the cross daily in pursuit of Him. This is what the author means when he says “let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”

Thursday, May 1, 2008

tagging back

Okay Christina sent me this so I’m doing it now.

So…here are the rules:
1. Link back to the person who tagged you. (Check)
2. Post these rules on your blog. (Check)
3. Share six unimportant things about yourself
4. Tag six random people at the end of your entry.

1) I am obsessed with musical theater. This all started when my parents got me into Les Miserables and Miss Saigon when I was about 6 years old and it hasn’t stopped since. I’ve seen the following shows on Broadway, in London or through a national touring company: Les Miserables: 5 times, Miss Saigon: 5 times, Aida: twice, Wicked: twice, Rent: thrice, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels: twice, Beauty and the Beast, The Lion King, Titanic, Tarzan, My Fair Lady.

2) I have a huge Serenity movie poster hanging over my bed because I am obsessed with all things Firefly/Serenity.

3) I am a voracious reader. I often have 3 or 4 books going at once. I’ll read anything from 18th century British lit and Thomas Merton to fantasy/science fiction and Harry Potter. Right now I’m reading Renovation of the Heart by Dallas Willard, That Hideous Strength by C.S. Lewis and Atonement by Ian McEwan.

4) I love to dabble in languages, including French, Swahili, German, Spanish, Tagalog and most recently Arabic. However, despite all my resolve, I have only become barely conversationally fluent in German. I wish I could become fluent in all of them! I think I just need to spend a year overseas. That'll take care of that.

5) I love Planet Smoothie smoothies and wish they would build one over here by the airport. I need some Acai energy or Shag-a-delic in my life.

6) I am a former-former Disney employee. Shout out to Artist Point @ the Wilderness Lodge and Magic Kingdom. And I miss being able to go into Disney whenever the heck I feel like it. Food and Wine festival, anyone?

6 people to tag

1) Tina—because she tagged me and she miraculously likes Jane Austen even more than I do!

2) Crystal—She lives in Nottingham, England now and does cool things like hanging out with kids and telling them about Jesus.

3) Serenity—She’s got a sweet name and even sweeter stories about dumb salespeople who try and trick her into taking them seriously. Also she has a dog named Tater.

4) Carrie—Carrie’s my Orlando bff. And maybe this will inspire her to update her blog!

5) Ellie—Former housemate and proud Aussie. She taught me all kinds of cool things like Tim Tam Slams and how to successfully entertain 100 high school and middle school students in a small enclosed space while it's raining outside. Genius.

6) Shane—because he’s friends with everybody and he's moving to Kenya. And I wish I were as cool as he is.

Monday, April 28, 2008

a tribute to decaf coffee

It occurred to me today that I like decaf coffee. For very strange reasons.

It’s not pretentious. It’s not invasive, like regular coffee.

Regular coffee is like that annoying friend that insists on being in your life, not because of enjoyment, but because out of some weird delusion that they think that you need them to survive life. One of those addictive relationships, you know? Regular coffee kind of swaggers around, boasting “Yeah, you know you need me.” And we like the caffeine high, so we kind of put up with regular coffee’s arrogance.

But decaf coffee just kind of smiles up sheepishly at us and says, “I’m here.” Just the sheer enjoyment for coffee, for thing itself, not for the buzz or kick it gives. For taste, for pleasure, for enjoyment. Nothing more.

Decaf is there because we want coffee, not because we addictively need it. Decaf coffee is kind of like tea in that it is the faithful friend that may not keep you frenzied and frenetic and partying until the wee hours of the morning. It’s the homebody friend that doesn’t mind sitting around late at night while you curl up on a couch and read a book. The low-maintenance friend.

So here’s to decaf coffee.

And randomness;)

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

asking "why"?

At small group, we’ve been going through (alongside the Book of Job) a book entitled “Disappointment With God” by Philip Yancey, author of “What’s So Amazing About Grace?” and “The Jesus I Never Knew.” The book deals with three main questions: “Is God unfair?” “Is God hidden?” and “Is God silent?”


While we were discussing the chapters last night, I found myself verbally processing out loud and said something that confused everyone, including myself:/ So eventually one of our leaders suggested I email everyone to explain it. While thinking this through, I wrote out this email, which I’ve decided to post here (most of it anyway) for your viewing pleasure—or viewing frustration.:


Basically, what I was trying to say is that at its core, the human tendency to question the actions of God and ask "why?" ultimately boils down to a questioning of His motives and of His nature. Is God motivated by love or are His actions (or inactions) proof of His un-love? Or put it another way: Is God truly all-powerful AND all-loving?

We may ask "why?" to tempt God into explaining in such a manner "Well, if such-and-such didn't happen in your life than this-or-that wouldn't have happened, allowing you to become this or do that."

Just think back on your own life. If you hadn't attended college here or moved to this state, then you would never have met so-and-so or had the opportunity to do whatever and--"oh thanks God, now I get it!" We all long for that epiphany, that moment of clarity and revelation. That was the million possible varieties of answers that I was referring to. The concrete, historical, logical reasons which allow us to connect the dots to explain our circumstances... The answer to "why" is the answer that we think we need to understand everything.

In the instance of Job, let's say God really did explain Himself to Job--thereby explaining Himself to us. He said, "Well, you see, Job you were the center of this debate between Satan and Myself, and I decided to go all in, banking on your ever-faithful response." Even with this answer--the Job could still question God beyond this and say "Well, why?" There can only be one of two answers to this final "why": love or un-love. There really can't be any middle ground here.

And the answer--as the cross testifies--is still unmistakably love. Love because God endorses free will, love because He grants us this "dignity of causation," love because redemption is the heart of God's design for humanity.

This is why I love how Philip Yancey proposes that the question "why?" becomes transformed into "what end?" The question we ask really should not be "why?" because at this point, the millions of questions funnel down to an infinitely simpler question "what end?" The end, as Yancey says, is redemption and Re-creation.

Playing the devil's advocate here (pun intended), let's just posit the opposite motive of God in answering His question. Imagine Him responding this time: "Well, you see, Job you were the center of this debate between Satan and Myself, and I decided to go all in, banking on your ever-faithful response." Again, Job responds, "Why?" God answers simply: "Un-love." We can then imagine this unloving God to say all sorts of things to explain His answer: "Because I'm an all-powerful sadistic God that has no concern for your welfare or soul" or "I have bigger things to worry about" or "Because I could and I felt like it."

Imagine if God admitted to that. To un-love. The debate on the problem of pain ends there. We can now effectively blame all suffering on the inaction of an all-powerful but indifferent God. And of course, like a tyrannical dictator, that kind of God is not worth following.

This is why I believe what Philip calls the theological kryptonite, the question of the problem of pain. To reiterate, the problem of pain is the question of the existence of a God that is both all-powerful and all-loving. The common argument is that "If God has the power to stop bad things from happening, but He chooses not to, then He might be all-powerful, but He's not all-loving. On the other hand, if God does attempt to stop bad things from happening out of love, then He might be all-loving, but He's not all-powerful. If the choice is one or the other, He's a God not worth following. And either way, the all-loving, all-powerful God of the Bible cannot exist."

That is a formidable argument. Is God truly all-powerful and all-loving? Our whole concept of God--His nature, His attributes--proceeds from the answer to that question. I am not going to even attempt an address on that debate because there's no way I could ever completely answer that question, but let me say that ultimately, this is place where all roads of questioning "why" lead. Not to say that once we reach this hub, that it doesn't spin us off into a thousand other directions, but all questions to God of "why" feed through here--an "all roads lead to Rome" type thing.

And yes, Jeanne was right I think.... I'm not proposing that if we truly grasp--as far as limited human beings can--that God is loving, the questions all dissolve. Not at all. After all, as one of you pointed out, Job never did get his answer, as far as we know. As growing, maturing Christians, that's where all of us become entrenched from time to time, as life hits us with seasons of hardship and disappointment. It's natural to ask "why" and to plead for God to provide that epiphany, that moment of understanding so everything would make sense, at least for the time being. And of course it's unbelievably frustrating when He doesn't.

I'm just proposing that every time we ask God "why?", that line of questioning ultimately brings us back to one place and one place alone: asking God if He loves or not, as it relates to any given circumstance.

But as Yancey said in the last chapter, in Christ, the "why" transforms into "what end." And while that might not be enough to satisfy our curiosity, the person of Christ--particularly what He accomplished through suffering--effectively gives us reason, vision and hope enough to eventually move forward through cynicism and doubt and onto an redemptive outlook on life...much like Peggie's ability of "endurance", beyond the ability "to bear things, but to turn them into glory."

Monday, April 21, 2008

Making Oaths

“Again, you have heard that it was said to the people long ago, 'Do not break your oath, but keep the oaths you have made to the Lord.' But I tell you, Do not swear at all: either by heaven, for it is God's throne; or by the earth, for it is his footstool; or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the Great King. And do not swear by your head, for you cannot make even one hair white or black. Simply let your 'Yes' be 'Yes,' and your 'No,' 'No'; anything beyond this comes from the evil one.” –Matthew 5:33-37

I’ve always kind of skipped over this passage. Nobody truly makes oaths or vows or swears allegiance in any kind of official manner these days like you see in epic, medieval films where the hero makes some kind of an oath and follows through at any cost. Or the meaning has been subconsciously reduced to resolve to not idly say “I swear to God” or anything of that sort. It seemed a bit anachronistic and totally unrelevant for Jesus to command us not to make oaths at all. Which is why I’ve always skipped over it. As far as I knew, I wasn’t in the habit of making oaths or vows of any kind, so I could safely check that commandment off of my personal to-do list.

I re-read through The Cost of Discipleship recently and Dietrich Bonhoeffer helped illuminate this passage for me (Thanks, Diet;). He considered what the original practice of oaths entailed. What was the original purpose of making an oath?

Essentially, Dietrich proposes that an oath was a remedy for untruthfulness. The practice in ancient times was to bind a man to his word, and that any oath was a binding contract, in which he would rather allow death to come first than to break his word.

Now Jesus completely overrides and overturns this--as He often does--and says we should not make any oaths at all, to let our "Yes" be "Yes" and our "No" be "No." Meaning, that our words should always be a reflection of truth, never idle, never presumptuous and always in tune with reality of God’s will. Such a life would render oaths completely useless, because we would never need to make an oath to qualify what we’re saying. Our words would be always true, always transparent all the time, and no need to hide anything or qualify our words and actions with any sort of “vow” or “oath” or “I mean it this time.”

This particularly struck me because of the idleness of words in our culture. It’s almost a sickness. We are so prone to sarcasm, irony and hyperbole. We constantly say the opposite of what we mean or habitually exaggerate things out of proportion. Of course when used correctly, irony and hyperbole can illuminate a deeper truth (Jesus used both quite proficiently). I’m not suggesting we rid ourselves of these devices. But to so casually and chronically reduce our speech to sarcastic retorts and quippy banter HAS to negatively affect us spiritually in some ways.

And it does.

We also often make promises we can’t keep, often because this remnant of “keeping our word” has gotten lost. We are masters at escaping commitment, procrastinating things we’ve committed ourselves to do, checking “will attend” on an RSVP and not showing up, saying yes when we want to say no, saying “yeah, let’s hang out sometime” and not ever making an effort.

And I am the first to admit that I am guilty of all of these things. And it frustrates because I know that while this may seem trite and unimportant, it is in fact a reflection of deeper things at work, a reflection of my own spiritual condition and a noncommittal attitude that so pervades our culture. This is a mindset we must wrestle with. And not only wrestle with—but to live so radically different that a distinction is visible and completely unavoidable—a city on a hill.

At Status this past year, we’ve been focusing on what Jesus teaches about discipleship, how the disciples learned to follow and imitate Christ and the implications of that for our lives as professed followers of Jesus. I suppose this series has intersected a lot with what I’ve been reading lately and the changes that I want to allow the Spirit to impose on my life, to perpetually surrender compartments in my life that are inconsistent with the rhythms of who God is.

But even considering this one passage—on making oaths—has unveiled to me how little I know of truly following Christ. It has also flung open the doors for me to explore what it would really mean for me to live a life of truthfulness and transparency, so much so that making an oath or promise would no longer be necessary.

Oh, how far I have to go.