Bustin' a Move

Home Alone

Jill went off to a women’s retreat this weekend, leaving Jovi and I to fend for ourselves at home for three days. Surprisingly it has gone really well. Jovi’s been a good girl for me. But, we are looking forward to having Jill back later this afternoon.

Here’s a quick video to show the latest of Jovi in action. And I know what you’re wondering, are those Tristan’s famous chicken legs in the video? Yep, that’s them. I wanted to have my producer photo-shop me some big bulging calf muscles, but due to budget cuts at our production studio, we had to stick with the raw footage.

Death of an Icon

For most of my life I have had my eyes fixed on the future. I always seem to be planning for what is to come, worrying about what might go wrong, and preparing myself for the joys and sorrows that lay ahead of me. If you were to ask me what I have going on next week, I could tell you my schedule in great detail. If you ask me what I did last week, it would take me five minutes to pull that information from my memory banks, that is, if I could remember at all. The very title of this blog speaks to the way I approach reality – driven by the future, quickly forgetting the past.

With that said, I’ve been reflecting about the past more this year than I ever have before. Perhaps it is because I am now a father. Perhaps it is because I’ve entered my 30’s. Perhaps it is because I serve a congregation with a large number of elderly folks and have had to minister to people facing disease, death, and the end of their lives. Whatever the reason, I’ve been thinking a little less about what is to come and a little more about what has been left behind. This was especially true when I heard this weekend that radio legend Paul Harvey died on Saturday.

There are few things that remind me of my childhood more than the voice of Paul Harvey being broadcast over the air waves. My father’s father died when I was only five years old. I don’t remember much about him, but one of my distinct memories from childhood was visiting my grandmother and him in their house in Carrollton, Ohio, drinking sassafras tea, eating cinnamon toast, and hearing Paul Harvey on the radio. On the days that I would follow my dad to work as a kid, we would eat our sack lunches at noon sitting on a couple of five gallon buckets while listening to Paul Harvey report the news on my dad’s little AM radio. My last year of college, I had a class that dismissed at 11:45, and I would listen to Paul Harvey everyday as I drove back to my apartment for lunch. Throughout all the phases of my life, I have memories of hearing Paul Harvey on the radio.

In our world with rapid changes in culture, technology, and worldviews, Paul Harvey was an icon who seemed to transcend many of the boundaries of age and opinions. I imagine that if my grandfather was alive today we probably wouldn’t share a similar taste in music or fashion. I don’t really like Lawrence Welk, and I doubt that he would be a big fan of U2 or Pearl Jam. I’m sure he would be a lot better at working on cars, but I would be more skilled in working with computers. He would know a lot about the political issues that affected his life during the 40’s, 50’s, and 60’s. I would speak to the issues that are currently shaping our world in impacting my family. My grandfather and I would be divided in so many areas because of time and trends. There are so few things that link my generation to his generation. When Paul Harvey died this past weekend, I feel as if we lost one of those few links.

I’m not sure what this world is going to be like when Jesus comes back to fully establish his kingdom. I’m not sure if there will be radio when the dead in Christ are resurrected and Christ makes all things new. But, if there is radio, I hope Paul Harvey gets some airtime. And I hope my grandfather and I have a chance to once again sip on some sassafras tea, eat some cinnamon toast, and listen to the news from a radio legend.

Deal Me In

I’ve come to find that churches are the worst places to clean and organize. The reason for this is because nobody ever throws anything away, and the reason nobody ever throws anything away is because nobody owns the stuff at a church, and nobody feels that they have the authority to get rid of it. So, things that haven’t been used in 20 years in a church get put into a box and tucked away into a corner closet because you never know, somebody might use that stuff someday. I and a few other folks at the church have been trying to clean the place up and get things better organized, and we’ve found boxes and boxes of files, decorations, and all kinds of other weird stuff that hasn’t seen the light of day since the 80’s. Don’t tell anybody, but much of that stuff has finally found its proper place in the dumpster.

Above is a picture of my favorite discovery so far. I know what you’re thinking…that is the sweetest deck of Jesus playing cards I’ve ever seen. That’s exactly what I thought when uncovered several packs of these babies. I was ready to call up the boys and have a sanctified game of Texas Hold’em right there in the church. I hoped in this deck that the King, Queen, and Jack have been replaced by the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I hear a Holy Flush is the new highest hand you could have in poker.

To my dismay, the above cards weren’t actually playing cards. The other side is totally blank. I have no idea what they were used for. I’m thinking about drawing in all the appropriate numbers and symbols and making my self the sweetest deck of cards ever.

The Shack

A friend recently asked me if I had read "The Shack" and what I thought about it. So, I figured I'd post my response to him:

Dear friend,

Back in October a lady from our church came up to me and said, "Pastor Tristan, you have to read "The Shack." I want to know what you think about it. I loved it so much that I went out and bought a second copy, so take this one and let me know what you think.”

My first thought was, oh great, now I have to read some poorly written Christian fiction book (not exactly my favorite genre). But I did want to read because I really appreciate the lady who gave it to me. She's only been a Christian for a few years, so I figured I'd bite the bullet and suffer through some cheesy Christian novel in order to connect with her.

A few pages into "The Shack," I was pleasantly surprised to find that the book was fairly well written. Also, I was relieved to find that its plot didn’t center on a dispensationalist view of the end times…I’m amazed at how many of those the Christian press can publish in a given year! When I finished reading it I had a lot of thoughts on the book, but I’ll try to limit them here to a few positive ones and a few negative ones:

Here's what I liked: 1. Young at least attempted portray God as Triune. All attempts to write about the Trinity in fiction will fail because the Trinity is intrinsically mysterious and beyond our understanding, but I found it refreshing that Young emphasized God's 3-ness. Most popular writers tend to write generically about God, and their writings unintentionally assume God’s oneness. The Trinity is central to all we believe about God, so I commend Young’s attempt to bring the Trinity into popular Christian conversation, even though his attempt falls short at times.

2. The book is about suffering and the problem of evil, and I think it does an ok job of addressing the question of how a Good and All-powerful God would allow people to suffer. I believe this is the hardest questions that Christians have to answer, and Young does an adequate job of speaking to this question in the form of popular fiction.

3. Young also stresses freewill. I’ve read a few scathing critiques of “The Shack” by popular evangelicals, but almost all of them were from a Calvinist background. I could see why a Calvinist wouldn’t like this book because the characters are free and God’s sovereignty doesn’t infringe upon their freedom.

Here's what I didn't like: 1. I have to agree with you that Eugene Peterson’s statement was laughable. I think we need to give “The Shack” a few hundred more years of assessment before we put it on par with “Pilgrim’s Progress.”

2. There was one passage that I found particularly troubling in which Jesus says something like "it doesn't really matter if a person is a Christian or not. If a person really wants to seek me, they will find me. All ways lead to me" (that's not an exact quote, but it was something like that). Anyway, in this one passage, the Jesus character seems closer to being a Unitarian than a Christian. Because Young focuses so much on the Trinity, it wouldn’t be fair to label him as a Unitarian, but I did have big problems with that one passage.

3. Along the lines of the last point, one of my friends thinks that “The Shack” implicitly affirms universalism, and I can definitely see what he means. The book consistently paints a picture of Jesus as Loving and Good but fails to recognize him as the Coming King and Judge. In Young’s defense, the book isn’t about judgment, but any hint of judgment by Trinity seems to be missing.

Curious if any of you have read it or have any thoughs?

Latest on Jovi

They say that weight training works because it stresses out muscles and breaks them down. Then when your muscles get rest and protein, they recover and become stronger than they were before you worked them out.

I think our stressful travel must have been the equivalent of weight training for Jovi’s mind and development. When headed out on Christmas, she was able to roll over and only in one direction. Now, just in the past few weeks, she has gone from rolling, to crawling, to pulling herself up into a standing position. I figure that if we take her on few more stressful trips, we can probably get her walking, talking, and maybe even writing my sermons for me by next year.

The Trip from Hades

It’s been quite some time since I last touched base with the blogging world. Forgive my absenteeism. Jill, Jovi, and I were traveling over the holidays. We returned home for one week before heading out again for meetings with my denomination in Ohio. The last couple of weeks I feel like we’re just trying to catch up with work at the church and around the house, so my blogging has been on the back burner. But, it is good to be home.

Do you ever feel like God is just messing with ya? I’ve never really thought this, but by the end of our trip, I was beginning to wonder. We headed out Christmas morning to fly to Minnesota for few days to celebrate with Jill’s family. Our first flight was canceled. We showed up at the airport for the next available flight, and it was delayed for about 3 hours. We finally boarded the plane and took off. We landed in Chicago and were supposed to have a brief layover, but they didn’t have any gates open for us to get off of the plane, so we sat on the runway for over an hour, causing us to miss our connecting flight. We hung in Chicago for quite some time....our next flight was delayed, but eventually we finally made it to MN.

While in MN Jovi got sick and pretty much hated everybody but her mom for those few days. The following Tuesday morning we got in the car to drive from Jill’s parent’s house to the Twin Cities to catch our flight home. We set out really early because it was snowing hard. A drive that normally takes about 2 ½ to 3 hours took us about 5 ½ hours. We were stopped for over an hour at one point because of an accident. We finally arrived and stood in line for over an hour waiting to get our ticket. All the flights were delayed. Eventually we boarded the plane at about 8 pm. After boarding the plane we sat on the plane for over an hour before taking off….familiar story. Remember all of this was with a 6 month old baby! We finally got to Chicago. Our next flight was delayed again (making it a perfect 4 out of 4 for delays). We tried to drive to see my parents in Ohio, but the snowy roads nearly killed us, so we eventually stopped at 2:30 in the morning. What a nightmare!

So, what did I learn from all of this? 1) While part of me wants to say a big “Bah Humbug” to ever traveling again over the holidays, I came to realize that my experience this Christmas was much more an authentic representation of the first Christmas than my usual Christmas rituals. Rather than waking up Christmas morning to a big breakfast with family, laughing together, opening presents, and celebrating, this Christmas I was stressed, traveling, dealing with circumstances that were beyond my control, and trying to appease a crying, tired baby. I can imagine that Joseph must have felt the same way about the Roman government forcing him to travel to Bethlehem with his pregnant wife as I did about the airlines this Christmas.

2) True joy is most apparent in the midst of suffering. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that we really “suffered” on this trip, but the lack of sleep, the stress, the crying kid, the bad weather, and all the delays can certainly steal one’s Christmas spirit. After our second miserable day of traveling, while we were sitting on the plane on the runway, most people’s tempers were getting hot. You could hear people on the plane rustling in their seats, complaining to one another, and being very short with the flight-attendants. I was just like everybody else, getting very frustrated, but then I prayed and God spoke to my heart and reminded me how blessed I was. In that moment I couldn’t help but smile. I began to think that God was just messing with me this whole trip, like some cosmic practical joke, and it made me laugh. I realized that joy is so much deeper than our circumstances. I chatted and joked with the flight-attendant and let her hold Jovi. Jovi eventually started crying, and the flight-attendant asked me what’s wrong with her. I said, “She hates your airline,” and the people in our section all started laughing. Things really weren’t that bad. I don’t want to be happy; I want to have joy

Grace

I can’t help but feel overwhelmingly blessed lately. There are so many things in my life that bring such joy, and I know that all of these things are graces given by the Father. In no way do I deserve the life and blessings that I have been given. I have an amazing wife who is one of the most loving and genuine people I know. I have a beautiful daughter who makes me laugh and fills my heart with joy. I have a church that reminds me daily of God’s love and challenges me to be a better man. I have the privilege of serving Christ’s body as my occupation and vocation. I have been forgiven and am loved by God. I have been blessed so much, and sometimes I’m not even sure why. This is grace.

Another Fine Piece of Journalism

What makes a man a man? What makes a woman a woman? Maybe I’m just a rural simpleton, but I’ve always assumed that being a man or a woman had at least something to do with the kind of reproductive organs you have. I know I’m naïve, and forgive my being blunt, but I always assumed that the fact that I have a penis qualified me as being a man, maybe not a manly man, but a man nonetheless. Apparently I was wrong….at least according to the major news organizations in our country.

Have you seen the story of the person in the above picture? Barbara Walters had “him” on her top ten list of fascinating people of 2008. Several months ago ABC News reported the headline, “Pregnant Man Weeks Away from Giving Birth.” CNN reported just over a week ago, “The pregnant man who gave birth to a daughter earlier this year says he is expecting a second child.” These aren't tabloids. They’re supposed to be reputable news organizations. The pregnant man has been on Oprah and Larry King, and the buzz and absurdity goes on and on.

Can I just say something to help clear things up for anyone who’s confused? Here’s my headline….this just in…“The Pregnant Man Has No Penis.” That’s right. This is not a story of a modern biological miracle. The pregnant man in fact has a vagina, uterus, ovaries, fallopian tubes…yep, the whole female reproductive system which according to my very basic understanding of gender make him not really a him but a her. There is no real earth shattering story here. It’s a simple case of a woman who feels that she is a man, so she has taken hormone treatments, had some cosmetic surgeries performed, and has begun to act as if she were a man. But, she still has all the raw materials of being a woman.

This story is only a story because the news media has been sensationalizing it and manipulating ignorant people by reporting vague details about the person’s true gender. Most reports, like the ones above, refer to the person only as a man. A few reports say that he was actually “born as a woman,” but even this comment leads one to infer that she had an actual sex change operation. The story just isn’t a real story.

Now, if someday they figure out how to truly impregnate a real man, that will be a story worth reporting. I for one, look forward to that day, because then we men can finally dispel the myth that childbirth is so painful. I mean, come on, how bad can it be?

Just kidding, ladies.