Chip Shots

I didn't grow up in a liturgical church. In fact, I grew up thinking or assuming anyway that liturgical churches didn't really believe the Bible, and that they put more trust in their traditions than God. We, on the other hand, believed the Bible and were not bound by religious tradition. That's a lie, of course, but I didn't know any better. In fact, I'm still trying to figure it out. In my church tradition we never observed the church calendar or the lectionary. I never heard of Whitsunday until I was in college. And the idea of some nameless source choosing your readings and sermon texts for you -- why that was unthinkable! Let the Spirit lead! And throw away traditions! Only we didn't. I've since learned that our lack of using the lectionary meant that we ignored whole sections of scripture. And in later years, our sermons became little more than pop psychology with a scriptural proof text. "How to affair proof your marriage." Remember that one...

Warning: Thinking out Loud. I've begun to read novel called The Red Tent. It's a story about Dinah, Jacob's only recorded daughter in the Old Testament. One of the new believers in our church told me she'd read it, so I decided to give it a whirl. So far, it’s a pretty good novel, but critiquing it is not my purpose here. Instead I’ve got some thoughts rattling around my brain which I’ll now inflict on you, my unsuspecting reader. I was raised on the Old Testament and I’ve grown really tired of how it is always viewed as a book of "principles" and "promises." Evangelicals loathe reading story simply as story. We somehow feel the need to tie up all loose ends, explain every detail in light of the new covenant and keep everything nice and tidy. We’re uncomfortable with the ambiguities of real life and prefer instead to make the Bible merely a textbook for theology, not a story of God's love affair with the human race. The problem is, in so doing w...

As you know, the Christmas season is in full swing. For many, it’s become a generic holiday so tepid that even the word “Christmas” is avoided. “Merry Whatever,” I guess. As the Christmas — I mean “holiday” — season began, one department store decided not to sell Christmas trees. Instead, they’d call them “holiday trees.” Another store took all references to Christmas out of their advertisements, and told its employees not to say “Merry Christmas” to customers. I read today that public pressure (i.e., the threat of lost revenue) has led these corporations to relent. But it didn’t stop a public school in another state from including in its “winter program” the famous and well-loved song, “Cold is the Night.” (It sounds suspiciously similar to “Silent Night” — but we don’t want to confuse the children.) How the simple story of Jesus’ birth can be so controversial is a mystery to me. I suppose Christians bring it on themselves by trying to celebrate Christ and capitalism on the same day. ...

They both called on the same day: my son and my father. One called to see how I was doing. The other called to tell me how he was doing. Long conversations in both cases. Neither call was expected; both calls made my day. There’s something about family, isn’t there? The source of our greatest pain and our greatest joy, both rolled into one. Odd, isn’t it, how love and pain seem joined at the hip? I remember standing beside my now 18 year old son’s crib when he was only an infant. He’d just endured a life-threatening operation removing half of his right lung. His breathing was labored. The night nurse, concerned, would not leave his side. Neither did I. I seriously wondered if he’d ever grow up. It’s not a pleasant memory—even now. That night, I had a choice to make: would I succumb to fear and anger, or surrender it to God? Thus far, God hadn’t seemed to keep his end of the bargain. I’d never felt so angry and helpless in my whole life.. Retreating to a quiet room, I grit...

Yes, I'm one of those guys in the tight shorts on a bike. You know, the kind that irritate you on the road. Why just the other day I was pedaling up a ten mile stretch when I was startled by a crack on the back of my helmet. I nearly fell off my bike for fright! Catching myself, I saw a harmless chunk of ice bouncing on the road, apparently thrown at me by the Jeep jaunting merrily ahead. I don't know why cyclists irritate motorists. After all, I'm a motorist too. I pay road taxes, and while on my bike I'm subject to the same laws you are. I guess the guy just thought it would be fun to see if he could hit me. If he knew how close he came to causing an accident, he'd probably think twice before doing it again. Or not. I've been honked at, sworn at, and, now, thrown at. At least I haven't been spat at. Yet. I got into cycling about a year ago when a friend from our church cajoled me until I consented. I dragged myself out at dawn, dreading thoughts of huffing...

Just time for a quick note: We've recently moved and have temporarily lost internet access and, more importantly, the ability to read/send emails. So if you've tried to contact me, please be patient. I'm not ignoring you, really! It's just that your email is lost in cyberspace. Hopefully I'll be up and running soon. Just wanted you to know....

Like any good camp counselor I was doing my best to be sociable. Sitting among a crowd at a large wooden table during lunch I spied a quiet girl. She was aloof and substantially overweight. Feeling sorry for her, I tried to initiate a conversation. "Are you enjoying camp?" I innocently asked. "Yes," she said in an oddly squeaky voice. We exchanged a few pleasantries. She didn't seem too bright. "Too bad," I thought. "When fat kids are smart, at least they've got something going for them." One of my duties at camp was to lead worship around the campfire each evening. This was in the days when we thought nothing of combining camp songs with worship songs. Anything to get the kids involved! Since this was the last night of camp, emotions were high and we had a great time of worship. I sat on the corner of the stage feeling rather pleased with myself. The speaker got on the stage. "All week I've been introducing you to people wh...