Smirches Ditch of Truth

The title is an anagram for the building we're going to visit tomorrow morning. It's also who's talking to me about being music/worship leader... hence my personal dilemma.

Do I really want to entangle myself on a church staff?

Certainly not one like I've experienced in the past.

But this particular group is of a very different, um, "flavor" than I've aligned myself with in the past, and seems quite unlikely to pose the same threat of sucking the life out of me.

Do I really even want to do the institutional church thing ever again?

Not so much. It might've been a mistake for me to read Frank Viola's books and The Shack, but it's done now and I've had external confirmation of my internal sense of truth. Can't put that toothpaste back in the tube now.

But I also don't have any prospects for participating in an organic church. In the meantime, this group has a lot to recommend it. I'm not getting the same overpowering sense of territorial protection and in-fighting that I was perceiving at the Tuft Rich Chips Brat .

I'm speaking in anagrams because I can, because I found a neato site that creates them automatically for me, and because I really don't want anyone from either group to be able to Google their group and find my blog saying things about them. It's just not necessary or helpful.

Any-hoo, I'm sure there's strife. It's an institutional church, ain't it? But I'm not emotionally invested in some institutional vision, I'm committed to The Church. That's a very liberating position to be in, actually.

But even at all that, am I letting our desperate need for money drive my decision? Because while it isn't a lucrative position, it IS a paid one. We've lost the income from the North Ruralville position (gladly, wiping hands on pants) and we're losing the income from me teaching the college night class.

Hence my dilemma.

I'll let y'all know. It isn't imminent; God usually makes these things obvious for us, so I'll be patient and let him show me what he wants.

Big Fun in Ballyhoo

Martha with one of her pals from school.




What To Wear To A Monster Truck Bash: Heels, Daisy-Duke shorts and an off-the-shoulder t-shirt.

I think I was not dressed properly for this event... I was wearing my OU t-shirt (which I wear every Saturday in the fall).



Infant Fashion Tip: Diaper, socks, and a mohawk haircut. Tres chic.


YeeHAAAAWWW!!! It's Monster Truck Time!!!

Here's a brief video of some of the Monster Truck Action. The building in the background is the Ballyhoo Elementary School. You'll hear Isaac in the background as well as a few of my students:





Does this officially make me a redneck now?

This event was sponsored by all the local churches. The driver of the Monster Truck told his life story after the festivities. Prior to the Smashing of the Junk Cars By The Monster Truck, we were regaled by live worship music -- every single song exactly the same as the ones we did back in the Soulfire days. [sigh] We thought we were so edgy and out-there.

I guess, however, that this qualifies as "speaking the local language" in a way. No-one would come to a symphony performance here, but line up the Monster Truck Guy and give away free hotdogs and the whole town (plus all the even smaller communities nearby) will show up. It's what works here, so we went and participated and enjoyed ourselves.

Et cetera

Last Thursday when I came to band rehearsal, I discovered it was "oldies night." We did "What If His People Prayed" (Casting Crowns), "Salvation" (Charlie Hall), "Forever" (Chris Tomlin), "Break Our Hearts" (Passion), and "I Can Only Imagine" (MercyMe).

It made me chuckle privately, because most churches around here would consider those to be cutting-edge new songs. I don't think any of them is more than ten or fifteen years old. But WOW Church tends to keep things pretty fresh. In my more narcissistic moments (of which there are plenty, since I'm an artist and we tend toward that vein anyway) I like to think that Bill put the MercyMe song in simply because he now has a living, breathing piano player who can do it instead of using the Triton's sequencer to reproduce it.

Actually, in the little church next door here in North Ruralville, they still consider "Victory In Jesus" to be new music. It was, after all, published during the Great Depression and all, which is a switch from the Civil War-era hymns that populate much of the hymnal. I pray that God will enlighten all those who believe the hymnal to be canonical, but I fear most of them haven't listened to him in a long time anyway. I'm not saying that people who prefer traditional hymns aren't Christians -- no way! I'm specifically referring to the people who believe that the hymnal is as holy as the Bible itself and can't be added to or taken away from, and who believe it's the only legitimate source of church music.

Music aside, I think that I die just a little bit every Sunday that I have to be in that building next door. I hate attending a "church" that has absolutely no purpose... or at least appears to have lost its purpose somewhere back there. I don't have a single quarrel with any one of the seven people who still come week after week, except that they're just marking time. I have plenty of other ways to waste my time which are actually appealing.

Harsh? You bet. The truth hurts.

And until such time as God moves us to Ardmore to serve with the WOW Church folks, we're stuck.

Whenever I'm in Ardmore at WOW Church, I feel frustrated that I can't pitch in and do more because of our proximity problems, and I feel an overwhelming sense of belonging, of family, of like-mindedness. I am praying that's where God's taking us, because I can't bear too much more of this isolation and friendlessness. I'm accustomed to spending time working alongside the people in my church and being involved. This year has been tough on me, not having that outlet and that opportunity to sharpen myself with fellow believers.

Anyhow, we'll see what comes. Rick and I both have our resumes and applications in at an oil refinery there (yes, can you imagine me in steel-toed boots?) and I'm hoping at least one of us can get on at that plant, because the pay is excellent. I'm also sort-of hoping it's me, because I think that having Rick at Wal-Mart could prove a valuable thing -- their insurance is quite good, and the employee discount could sure save us some serious dough.

Teaching has it's pros and cons. The summers and Christmases, of course, being tops on the list. But the pay is just crap ... certainly not equating to the amount of time one must spend in college to earn the title of "Highly Qualified" under the No Child Left Behind boondoggle. They require more and more of teachers and give them less and less to work with. If teaching is where God wants me, then that's what I'll do. But I don't have to like it. I could probably land a job with one of the burgeoning suburb districts near Dallas, where the pay is much better, but we can't afford to live in any of those places and we can no longer afford to drive long distances to get there.

Oh well. Tomorrow morning it's back to Shakespeare for me. We've got to get these plays finished in short order because I want to fit in another novel before the end of school.

Okay, this is taking "Seeker-Friendly" just a tad too far...

Just saw this over at my blogmommy's place and thought that you might roll your eyes in much the same way I did (and apparently she did as well). I'm all for being relevant and speaking the language of the generation we're reaching with the Gospel, but for the love of Pete, is this accomplishing the task?

But who am I to say? The Bible itself says, "You shall know them by their fruit." If this church is making disciples and facilitating transformed lives, I suppose it's just as legitimate as Dog the Bounty Hunter and his checkered language and tactics. And Dog is one of my heroes.

I've always been a staunch supporter of "speaking the language of the people you're trying to share information with." Kids today -- even the normal, mainstream, preppy types -- use the word "pimp" as a verb to mean "dress up, trick out, radically improve."

I think that in the bigger picture, I wish the word "pimp" hadn't had something of a definition-transmutation. It certainly doesn't mean what it used to mean.

Merry Christmas

"Nativity"
4' x 6' Acrylic on Canvas
by Lalo Garcia

May you experience the love of Christ and the salvation that He brought to us that very first Christmas.

Special Music!!

Very, very special indeed.



In Baptist churches in the South, for as long as I can remember, whenever someone sings a solo during the worship service it's been labeled "special music" in the program (or, as it was called when I was younger, the "bulletin").

I'm not a huge fan of "special music" as it's usually manifested itself, mainly as a performance vehicle in which the person performing seeks the attention and approval of the captive audience in the church building. It's like Holy Karaoke most of the time; they hear a cool song on the Christian radio station and run right out to the Christian bookstore and buy an accompaniment track so they can show everyone at church how much they can sound like the Famous Christian Singer.

I'd rather actually go to a karaoke bar; at least those people tend not to take themselves seriously when they're up there, and everyone gets the equal chance to participate. Plus, if it's really bad, you can hoot and laugh or even leave for a few minutes until they're done -- but why leave when you can be entertained by the sheer badness? In church, you have to pretend it's lovely, because it would be so unGodly to hurt the performer's feelings, you know.

I tend to view church music... or rather, worship, encompassing music as well as other forms of sincere praise aimed only at God and not at anyone else... with deep respect and a passionate desire to do it free from the piddly aims of human approval. I don't get to do that at this church, nor at many churches I've ever been in... which has unfortunately resulted in an unconscious "steeling myself" stance whenever I go to church. It's a coping mechanism, I suppose.

Anyway, back to the photo at the beginning of this post. This gentleman came to our church a few Sundays back and played his bagpipes for us. Not well, mind you. I'm sure he's a genuinely nice fellow, and maybe he's actually really good -- how can you tell, with bagpipes? -- at any rate, I suffered through it with a smile and the thought that this would make great blog fodder, if nothing else.