The Sharpened Spoon

All of us, no matter how humble, sees ourselves as the protagonist of our own story. No matter how dark and twisted our path may become, even by our own choice, we will always see that we instigated the good things in our lives and that the bad that occurs “happens” to us, rather than being the duly earned consequences of our own actions.

It was only a few years back, and I know this because it was during one of those rare periods in my life when I was journaling and recorded it, that I realized that life is a pattern of overlapping stories, and while I may be the hero of my own epic, I play a role in many other stories around me as well. It wrote it like this, “ I realized today how self centered it is to assume that new people in my life are being brought here by God to help and shape me, instead of me being brought to them.”

This morning I had one of those rare moments of clarity which typically happen in the still moments in life when my mind is quiet enough for me to hear that anyone else is in the picture. My oldest daughter, Elizabeth had woken me up a few minutes after seven,( a bit early for me, still functioning as I do on theatre people time which doesn't really get started good until the sun goes down, ) to remind me that she was working at the zoo today in her capacity as a junior curator. It's a volunteer position that required three interviews and an essay to get.

As I was driving her to the zoo, listening to her descriptions of the things she gets to do and the people she is getting to know it occurred to me that this particular scene in my life, was a chapter from her book more than my own. To her, these memories will hold a place similar to my own memories of my own first job in a dry cleaner's. It made me proud in a way that is not easy to describe. I realized that I was here, not to teach or advise, but simply to listen and be her friend in that moment.

In his book “ A Million Miles in a Thousand Years;” Donald Miller compares the scenes of our life to a story. He suggests that those who choose their own stories are more fulfilled, and that it is necessary for us to find some adventure, or quest or crusade to champion in order to have a really great life. He sums it up like this, If you were to die tomorrow, how many lives would be completely disrupted if you did not fulfill your mission? It's an interesting question, isn't it? Many of us measure by how many people would mourn our passing in a personal way, but what about ministry, or service, whatever you choose to call it. Are you centrally involved in anything that is life changing for others? If not, why not?

Here is where I have to confess that I have not finished the last few chapters of this book, not because I don't want to, on the contrary, I haven't had much in the way of uninterrupted reading time lately, because I am being called into a bigger story, by a story teller who really knows what makes a great story. In this story I am a man who started out in life to make the kind of changes that Miller is challenging me to, but I got side tracked. The institution (church) that I had wanted so much to be part of disintegrated, I lost my place, and I lost my will to continue down the course I had set.

Now I find myself right back in a similar place. The planets seem to be spinning out of alignment, the earth is shaking under my very feet. People are literally fleeing the destruction and havoc that has been wreaked by the bad choices of a few. Others are standing on the sidelines lobbing verbal grenades at these poor choice makers and anyone who dares to attempt rebuilding anything that was blown apart by these choices. But, this time, instead of giving up, getting discouraged and finding a hole from which to curse the changes, I am running in, shoring up the walls, holding up the hands of the weary and offering my help in any capacity!

I have decided that not only am I interested in creating better stories for myself, but I also want to be one of those memorable side characters that show up for a moment, but impact the story so much for the better that you can't forget them, in as many stories as God will give me a part in.

Jesus said he did not come to seek those that were not lost, or to heal those that were not sick. It is time for us to remember why we were saved in the first place, to bring hope and love into the dark and hurting corners of the world. Here's a little secret: That's where all the best stories start!

In a cupboard under the stairs

In an old wardrobe

In a dingy Egyptian prison

In a dirty Palestinian stable on a cold winter night

So, what are you waiting for?

Got a story you'd like to share, or need someone to be part of? Tell me about it!

“I hate sports” - Disciple Howry, the Edge Church Sunday Sept. 19^th

While I cannot agree more, it was a brave statement for a man who resides in Oklahoma. It isn't so much that I hate sports, which as anyone who has studied anything about relationship knows, would actually show that I am passionate about them, and therefore some part of me must love them. I, am completely apathetic to sports. Don't care who wins, don't care who loses and never have. I realize this is a sacrilege to many of you. Let me explain.

As a young man I played sports. I played baseball, basketball and soccer in team athletics and was okay, not the best by far, but not a complete loser either, but it just didn't appeal to me. The contemplative type of thinking that I thrive at is completely unwelcome in any team sport. I would be the guy who had to admit that the other team flat outplayed us, or that I had indeed committed the foul. If I was gonna play, I would give my best, but to me it was a game and nothing more.

You see, I have always looked at it like this: team sports are an archaic hold over from our days of tribal warfare. In this sociological ritual, we assign ourselves allegiance to a group of people that we may, or may not, be loosely geographically connected to. They in turn go out and do battle with a neighboring tribe. Now, in the old days, this would all end with the spoils of the defeated tribe leaving with the victors, including the chiefs daughter who would be wed to the opposing leaders off spring to forge an alliance. Today, we just trade trophies and “bragging” rights. I, would rather watch a good movie.

Now, granted the old way, was not very efficient, seeing as how the decimated enemy would hardly make an adequate rival for the next outing, since what players had not been made permanently “ineligible” due to fatal injuries were “drafted” to play for the opposing team. But the stakes of these conflicts would have at least made some of the absurd salaries being handed out today make a little sense. Can you imagine if the winning team got to pick the best players up and carry them off the field from the defeated team, talk about building dynasties.

While I certainly do not begrudge anyone the right to laze around on a weekend afternoon watching guys beat each other senseless, it seems to be an opiate of sorts. We attach so much meaning to the rise and fall of our favorite teams and many fans which, by way is short for fanatic, more on that in a minute, will set aside a huge portion of their income to spend on tickets, pay per view, team paraphernalia and other expenses, such as mass quantities of food and alcohol related to being a follower of a sporting franchise.

The word fan is interesting. Its root, fanatic is defined thus, by Encarta: 1.extremist: a holder of extreme or irrational enthusiasms or beliefs, especially in religion or politics. I think this fairly describes most serious sports enthusiasts that I have met in my lifetime. It seems that we are much more passionate about our vicarious living than our actual life at times. We would think nothing of publicly expressing an opinion of another's allegiance, as advertised by a T-shirt or cap. In fact I saw two guys, one in red and crimson, one in orange and black about to throw down, just inside the gates of a local theme park, based on a snide comment one made in passing.

My wife and I are part of what is known as a “neighbor group” at the Edge Church where we attend. Currently the group we are part of is reading Donald Miller's book “A Million Miles in a Thousand Years”. In the book Miller outlines what happened to him after his successful memoir, Blue Like Jazz became a sensation of sorts, but was followed by near failures, leading him to believe that he was a failure. Through the course of events he stumbled upon a concept. What makes a good story makes a good life. That may sound a little simplistic on its face, and it is. What he explains is this, when a character in a story wants something badly enough to give up everything to get it, and when that quest also includes a sense of the importance of others as equal to oneself, it leads to a life that is well lived. It creates an individual who will be actively missed when he is gone.

Back to sports. We have all heard it said, by some well meaning evangelist, that we should be just as excited about worship as watching our favorite sport, or in my case a really good movie. I agree with this, but maybe not in the way they were using it to drum up emotion for the meeting at hand. On a deeper level we should be seeking out a connection with the ultimate conflict between good and evil.

Now, before you rush out to buy the latest Christian T-shirt, album, bumper sticker or tickets to the hippest gospel concert or conference, hear me out. As my friend Mannaseh over at Soulmannah.com said, “Corny, done in the name of Christ, is still corny.” I'm talking about the real deal.We are being actively recruited to be a part of the team. We don't just sit back and cheer God on and booh the Devil, we get to suit up and play. But, unfortunately most of us are on the bench. On this team, unlike the Santa Fe Wolves, under the leadership of a team of men including my good friend Andy Rasmussen, we decide when we play.

That's right my friend, while God may occasionally put you aside to rest, it is you who makes the decision whether to engage or not, and there is room on the field for everyone. Many of my friends have expressed disappointment with Churches that don't give them opportunity to serve. Don't make the mistake of confusing what the institution you call church will allow you to do, for what God has called you to. Unfortunately they can frequently act more like a traditional sports team, where the coach chooses his top players and it is a cold day in hell before some guys see even one second of game play, and that is wrong.

It is my opinion that this type of “coaching” is what is killing the Church of America. We have elevated these men to positions God never intended, then given them the authority to keep us from our God ordained destinies. Rather than pitch a fit, find what you want to do, whether it has the name church on it or not, remind yourself that you are the church and get off the bench. While watching a game may be exciting and is certainly one way to relax, any real sports fan will tell you that playing is where its really at. I, for one, am aiming to collect the spiritual equivalent of an NFL all star salary in changed lives, and I am willing to bring anybody with me who wants to go.

I would finish this off with a cheesy sports idiom, but that's not my style. So, from a director friend of mine, Chad Anderson, here is his encouragement to actors going out to face an audience. “Let's get out there and melt some faces!”

Yosemite Sam was good, but this is perfect. I will sully it no further with my remarks.

Do not be eager to be thought of as a teacher. Don't you realize that those of us who teach will be judged more strictly by God and man? (paraphrase James 3:1)

First of all I know I'm a hypocrite for even writing this. I preach against making insulting comments about people whom you have never met, but I kinda feel like I know Terry Jones. So that out of the way...

For the last several days a very serious battle between the forces of good and evil has been playing out right before our eyes. I am of course speaking of the war between gravity and the roots of the hair in Terry Jones' mustache as it struggles to prevent the hairy monster from crashing to earth taking his face with it and revealing to the world the tiny little child that is piloting this “pastor's” body.

Who else but a third grade boy could be so ridiculously self centered as to hold the entire world hostage with a threat of setting a fire? Not since the days of elementary school have I witnessed such blatant playground politics.

First Terry calls names and threatens to burn the “bully's” prize possession on the premise that this particular book is filled with evil and “God” told him to do it! With the exception of a couple Old Testament prophets, when has God ever needed press releases and conferences to gather a crowd to witness a stunt like this? And, correct me if I'm wrong, but when they did get all theatrical and lay siege to a model of the city, wear a linen belt and roll around in the dirt, etc it was always to call God's people to repentance, not to point out how heathen the heathens were.

I'm quite sure that had “Pastor Flipflop McWaffle Jones” ,or “Flippy” as he will be called for the remaining duration of this blog entry, known what a stink he could raise , he probably would have realized that god's revelation (I refuse to capitolize the “g” because I don't think God with a capitol G has said anything this guy has listened to in a while) was really relating to the ten year anniversary of the World Trade Center attacks, and taken another year to promote and schedule his book tour, or at least get a proper banner printed for the side of that butt ugly trailer. Or perhaps he would have hidden under his bed from sheer terror of the threats that would come at him from both sides. But this guy is eating this up!

I'm not a shrink, nor have I played one in my extensive acting career (unless you count one three minute youth sketch sometime in the early nineties), but it is my guess that wanting this kind of attention is the reason that this guy became a pastor, to “Speak for God”. Now, I'm pretty sure that God is less than approving of the message this guy is pronouncing and I'm a little less than thrilled that people all over the world are linking him to things that I believe in, very deeply, myself. So I felt perhaps it behooved me to distance myself from this type of lunatical behavior. I say this type, because there are other types of which I whole heartedly agree, I will explain in a moment.

SO ANYWAY! With a clear word from the Lord as to the proper course of action Pastor Flippy schedules his event. Then, when it becomes even clearer that the only people who are in favor of him doing it are just the ones that want video of him being roasted on a spit, over the burning qurans, to add to their Youtube channels, he flips. Apparently a local Imam, or as it Flippy so eloquently pronounced it in one interview Islaammic Immen, spoke with him and told him he could arrange a chance to meet the leaders behind the Ground Zero Mosque. Flippy sees this as another sign from God and announces to the world that this fine fellow has assured him that they will be moving the mosque as long as Flippy agrees to put down the lighter and step away from the blowtorch.

This is where it gets really interesting. Whether Pastor Flippy thought that saying this aloud would force their hand, or he knowingly lied, or he was deluded into believing that he had single-handedly saved America from the Islamic scourge, we will never know. IT didn't work. The Imam in Florida and the leaders in NYC were quick to denounce pastor Flippy and let us all in on the fact that the man is a liar, delusional, or both, no such agreement had ever, or ever will, exist.

Now we have reached my favorite part of the story. After telling the world that god told him to burn quarans, because they are evil and convince Muslims to kill people...(like this nutbag can't do that without help from an ancient holy book?) Pastor Flippy McWaffle Jones claims he is disappointed, nay , outraged that these Muslims (who are evil, remember?) have LIED to him and now it's ON! (the book burn that is) or maybe not, but unless they move the mosque he is definitely, maybe considering a bonfire that may or may not contain books that closely resemble the muslim koran. They LIED to you? What do you expect? I will tell you almost anything you want to hear if I believe that GLOBAL CATASTROPHE may follow your next move, and sleep very well tonight, thankyou. Besides, I think I think it very much more likely that the ends of your mustache have become so ensconced in your ears that you only hear what you want to hear and the Imam never said any such thing.

I also think that the entire case has been overstated. I know that there are Muslim zealots who would like nothing better than to see me, as an American and a follower of Christ, dead, but...I have a feeling that most Muslims feel very much like the Islamic man on the street in London who told a reporter that the world was making a very big deal out of a church of thirty members and one Idiot. He went on to say that burning a stack of qurans will not destroy Islam. Here's what I think. A few mosques in Palestine may have dedicated their weekly “Friday Flag Flaming” in his honor, but didn't we have the same headlines last Friday?

MUSLIMS BLOW STUFF UP WHILE SELF RIGHTEOUS CHRISTIANS FREAK OUT!

Is it really that different?

There have always been radicals. One of them is my all-time hands down hero. He was a humble blue-collar worker from a small town. He spent his days sharing important ideas with his friends and anyone who would hear him about how people should treat each other. He hung out with a lot of people who would, frankly, not be on most of our top ten influential people lists. The first thirty years of his life he lived in anonymity and then for three years he went around pissing off both the religious and political establishment of his day, by NOT taking the bate and playing their game. They killed him for it.

Over the next decades of World History his friends would mostly be assassinated or imprisoned by the government or religious leaders. Here are a couple of key points about Him and what he taught.
He taught his followers to never return evil for evil but to overcome it with good. He taught them to willingly submit to the insults of others and to pray for their enemies. When he was unjustly accused by a Godless despotic government of treason he gave NO answer. When they beat him and cursed him and stripped him of his dignity, he publicly forgave them.

This TERRY JONES is the man who you claim is inspiring you to act like this! He won't say anything to you, because his kindness will eventually lead you to repentance. I hope. But, I am not that nice! People like you disgust me. According to reports you have lived off of more than your agreed upon share from the “temple coffers” for years. There were two priests who did that in the Old Testament, God caused fire to come from the altar and consume them where they stood. Men like you are lucky he is not in that business anymore! Please stop speaking for me. God did not tell you to burn Korans, or anything else for that matter! The only press conference you need to call is the one where you announce your resignation and repent of your misleading the people of God.

(That was spoken out of my own sense of indignation and not under known influence of God. If he chooses to use it, he will, if I am wrong, he will convict me of it and I will repent)

People, listen: in case you don't know, many “Christian Leaders” are neither! And God will call us all to account for following them. So, heed the advice of the apostle Paul when he said, “Follow me as I follow Christ” and when you see Jesus take a left when your “leader” is taking a right, get the heck out of line, put down the koran and the lighter fluid and go hug a muslim! You are not called to save, change, berate, educate, or enlighten them! You are called to LOVE! Okay, sermon over.

So now Flippy goes to New York City with his new-found muslim buddy on a commercial jet liner, wow....that sounds interesting. Can't imagine you'll have any trouble finding seats on THAT flight. And the rest of us sit with bated breath and wait to see if he will light the first match to flame the fires of ARMAGEDDON, my guess he won't, but even if he does it will blow out just like the millions of barbecue grills that were lit last weekend to celebrate the passing of Summer, and we can all get back to normality until the next crackpot comes along.

Love God
Love Others
Serve Everyone

Speaking of service, to the flight attendant on that plane with only two full seats, (you know who you are), It's customary to give the condemned man whatever he wants for his last meal.