another informative news segment

I was just talking to Tina last night about how ridiculous the news has been lately. I guess that the only thing happening in the world worthy of coverage is the release of two American icons: Paris Hilton and Apple's iPhone. Bob, I hope you get some sleep out there tonight, that's some tough concrete out in front of the Cingular store.

So ONS was great. It was a little long, bless that Sabbath day, but I'm very thankful for the relationships I got to build. I definitely feel more connected to IV as a national movement.

Here's a really cool site featuring some "light graffiti" which could bring a whole new string of vandalism to a city near you.

how about disc golf

My brother-in-law assures me that this course is extremely tough. I'd say my course score would validate that with an astounding 9 over par. I think it's the altitude or maybe the water that is to blame for my recent lack of finesse in the sports arena. While sport morale continues to suffer, everything else about being here has been fantastic. There is a sense of being at home, that I commented on last Christmas, which continues to grow. I am increasingly convinced of the ability for community to make location unimportant. A great place is awesome. A mediocre place (Illinois), or even a not so great place (Bakersfield?), and perhaps even a terrible place (Barstow? what?) can be the best place to live as long as you have good community. Four years, look out Seattle, we are taking you by storm.

Here's the course.

kicked my butt

I just went down hard, 1-6. My brother in law took me to school this morning at 6:30. It was racquetball lessons for about 2 hours. I kept thinking that if I could get him to keep playing I might tire him out. I was wrong. How humbling, I flew 6 hours across the country and I get walloped. Even my special shoes didn't help me. I've been wanting some new Sambas and kinda eyeing the millennium edition and found some at a thrift store for 12 bucks! My size even. Kinda excited about that.

That's all, I'll post again when I've found my dignity.

a few nights ago at the airport

****at the airport with no internet service****

It's 3:34am. My ears hurt from having the earphones on too long. In about a half an hour the little kiosks will hopefully open up and we can check in for our flight to Peoria. I miss staying up all night, not in the, “Gee, I wish I could do this more often” way, but after doing it I think “Oh yeah, this is what it feels like” and I look back at those painful college memories in the architecture lab with fondness, or maybe I'm just tired.

Instead of trying to sneak in a few hours of sleep and then getting dropped off at the airport at an ungodly hour, we opted for the drop-us-off-now package which includes relentless artificial lighting and the occasional tile Zamboni. I seem to have survived. Tina's out cold with the old sweatshirt on the suitcase move, curse these bench-like-torture machines and their immovable arm rests. Whoever invented these should be forced to sleep on them. Hasn't anyone in airport design been to a movie? Lift-able armrests for the love of the crick in my neck.

And in come the airport staff, what a chipper bunch. I can't feel my legs.

I'm eagerly looking forward to the other side of this flight. It's the Loveridge's in Illinois part 2, our own little summer of sequels, our first trip out was during last Christmas. We'll see if I can't improve my score on the disc golf course.

More to post later, let's go see if those kiosks are up and running yet...

last night I dreamt of...taste?

Actually, I didn't. And that was an epiphany this morning. While driving to drop of Tina at a friend's house we both shared the dreams that we had last night. Mine was filled with people from church in Loyalton playing all sorts of music up front and pretty much just jamming with one another. Tina couldn't quite remember hers but it included trying to get her bike back from a shop and getting a tri-tip sandwich. I asked her how it tasted and she said she didn't know because she didn't eat it. Then my mind was practically struck by lightning as this thought entered my consciousness, I've never tasted in any dream. I'm pretty sure that's the only sense that I've never experienced in a dream. This has to be some sort of breakthrough discovery to which the authorities of Dream Forensics (too much CSI) must be alerted. Has anyone ever tasted in their dream?? Fascinating, eh?

a little nerdy

I came across this interview this morning and watched about 20 minutes of it. Really it's for nerds only. Steve Jobs and Bill Gates sitting next to each other and talking about Microsoft and Apple, competition and relationship. There are a few gentle jabs and some friendly fire, but both guys are stinking smart and very professional. They seem to like each other and joke back and forth. It reminds me that all the fanfare at the Apple Expo's is just that, fanfare, it's for the people. When Jobs goes all charismatic it's to make the sale. It seems these guys are just two geniuses who love what they do. Here's one of the videos. These guys are easily the two biggest faces of technology in America and I'm blown away by the amount of innovation they possess. One last comment: I think Gates has about 1000 times as much class as Donald Trump, considering he's probably that much more wealthy.

havalina railroad co

Tonight I was reminiscing with one of my friends about all the old Christian music that we used to listen to; I'm talking about way back in junior high. I thought I'd try to find some samples for him online and in the process came across this treasure: the Havalina Rail Co. The summer after my freshman year in college I lost about 72 CDs that made up my entire musical collection that I had built since about 7th grade. That collection started with, wait for it, seriously you can't possibly believe me but it's true, Shaggy - Boombastic. For real, and I'm totally prepared to stand behind that purchase, but I digress.

During that time in life, the time when I started to actually listen to music, I began to collect a random selection of little known Christian artists, some of which made it big, like Jars of Clay or Switchfoot, and some which didn't, like Chaos is the Poetry or the aforementioned Havalina Rail Co. I think Havalina Rail Co was the first CD I bought that opened me up to more non-traditional, well, non-mainstream music. There are some haunting songs in Russian Lullabies that make me think of the Decemberists. I think of that album as the beginning that has led to an appreciation for folk artists like 16 Horsepower and other (non-folk) artists like Bright Eyes and Dispatch.

Anyway, the point of this post was to get everybody, all four of you, to download the music of Havalina Rail Co. cause it's free and I like it.

A last comment: The first solo I learned on the guitar was the intro for Twilight Time.

another book

That's right, I finished another book. Shoot, maybe this is just the first I've finished of all that I've mentioned. Last night after not being able to sleep because of...well, issues, I decided to trek through the remaining pages of this book. It only took me about six months to read this.

I think this book has had the greatest effect on me of all that I have read in the past five years, probably because it's the most self-validating for me. The author's voice is my voice, one that is constantly analytical, and in the end, flawed. I love the idea that Quality is the cause/creator of everything and it must remain undefinable, because whenever it is defined, a part of it is lost and it ceases to be the first cause. I had a two hour discussion with my friend Amos on the way back from Vegas at about 2am all about the book and how it applies to spirituality and Christianity. I miss those types of conversations.

I realize that the reason I enjoyed the book so much was because it was just like one of those 2am conversations. It was like having a friend who thought and processed the same way as I do and whenever I wanted to discuss life I could just open the book. Perhaps that's why I'm feeling a little sad to be finished reading it. Now I'll have to wait for another couple of months or so in order to have one of those fulfilling conversations. One that I don't have to entirely initiate and carry the weight of in order for it to continue. I think one of the things that brings me the most sadness is not being able to communicate. I want somebody to initiate the long 2 hour conversation where all we talk about is ideas. This is my love language and although it may seem dull, it is what brings me greatest joy. It's how I feel like I've connected with someone, talking about things bigger than ourselves, marveling about great concepts, trying to bring them into practicality without loosing their greatness. It's my attempt at experiencing Quality. Without it I feel alone.

stories and questions

In my attempt to become more familiar with the emergent church and the ideas floating around it, I've picked up this book that I found at a local Christian bookstore. It was market down to 5 buck on sale. So far I've read the introduction and the first chapter. Immediately it's easy to see that the people writing in this book are tired of the typical American institution of "church" and are looking for it somewhere else. I've discovered in other books and a few podcasts the recurring themes of story and question. People who would associate themselves with emergent seem to value the telling of stories, their own and others. Also, there is a need to be able to ask questions, even about, or maybe specifically about, understanding doctrine.

I'm already starting to identify with the people in this book because they want to be able to find a place where it is safe to asks questions. A place where it is safe to ask questions about homosexuality, about faith, about knowledge, without being labeled a liberal or backsliding in your faith. I want to ask questions without the pretense that we already have perfect understanding of the answers. I think in some cases I've been allowed to be inquisitive, just as long as I admit that I won't change my mind about what everybody must agree is the truth.

What I begin to see, rather quickly, is that there is a strong force, even in myself, to stay away from questions about core beliefs. I think this force is fear. It's fear that I might change my mind, fear that I may disagree with a whole institution and fear of the consequences of that. Fear that I'll be outcast and considered lost. Maybe these fears are good in some sense. I mean, if I truly believe something there is no reason why I should question it all the time just for the sake of questioning, is there?

Maybe what I'm feeling is that I'm afraid that I am unaware of how deeply I believe something until it gets questioned and I am not allowed to wrestle with that questioning and still be considered a good Christian. Or maybe I'm afraid that if I am questioning I can't prove to myself that I'm a good Christian because the whole standard for our institutional church is something that I've really bought into to the point that my own security depends on it.

So what is my story? What is my actual testimony? I'm afraid that if I was to have a small group discussion on this topic instead of my acquired knowledge of Christianity and faith, that perhaps it would be a short one. Not because God hasn't done anything in my life, but because I've grown up in a system that says my understanding and position on certain truths and my ability to communicate them intellectually, is more important than how I've experienced and been shaped by those truths.

What's next? I want to find a group of people that can discuss all of these things without fearing a prayer intervention to protect my wavering salvation status. I also want to be more bold about initiating this with people because I know that my own fear of being insecure in myself is greater than being deemed an outsider by others. Perhaps that connects to my concern towards the emergent church, there seems to be a rejection of the modern church but the response is not to stay and interact with those still there. We have to distance ourselves before we can blame the group that we were apart of.

at the gym...

Instead of powering through the last bit of the talk I'm working on for Friday, I've decided, this is an opportune time to break the long silence that has fallen over this blog.

So I was just at the gym and this is who I see. Well, not this guy exactly, but plenty of guys that look just like him. This gets me thinking. This gym is just like how I too often view ministry. I'm sitting here looking at my own arms, my legs and thinking, what am I even doing here. I'm stuck out here on the machines because I can't get myself to go through the opening in the corner of the gym that leads into the holy sanctuary of free weights. I ventured over there today and quickly dodged the glances from Sven and Butch by pretending I was on my way to the water fountain. Yeah, that's what I need, more water. I'm overcome with this feeling; I don't belong here. I'm not fit, at least as not as much as this guy is. I don't have my six-pack or hair gel pass.

This is how being a Christian feels sometimes. I look around and think that I don't belong here. Look at all this sin around my midsection. I've got no stamina when it comes to faith. Sure I know how to clothe myself so that I look all spiritually buff underneath, but throw some weights at me and I just crumble in fear that somebody will see that I'm only lifting 120....okay 100.

Part of my wishes that Jesus would just show up and ask me to go jogging. Let's get the heck out of here, there are other ways to git fit. But how do I explain this to all the other Christians. I always get the same questions: "So how much are you benching these days? How many sit-ups can you do? How many souls have come to Jesus through your ministry? What big event have you pulled off and had written about in the last regional update?" If I'm not in the gym there's no way to answer these questions. What's scary is that I know I can't always tell if the voice asking these questions is coming from those around me or if it's all in my own screwed-up pride-damaged mind.

What bothers me most is the fact that I want to become this guy pictured right here. I really do. For now, I'll think of ways to either bring him down or dismiss him, all the while secretly wishing I was just like him.

Sure, I'd also like to break out of here and run far far away from the whole system, but out there is the unknown. Is it really faithful if nobody else recognizes it? Is it really progress if I'm the only one who feels it? Is it really authentic if nobody understands?

on an art rant

I just watched Garden State with the director's commentary, Zach Braff along with Natalie Portman. This probably qualifies me some "geek" or "nerd" title, which I'll accept gracefully. I love knowing why. You understand right? It's not all the little trivia facts (like that Natalie Portman had never played a vinyl record before the movie and had to be shown how to "put one on" for a scene) but it's the why that I enjoy. I love to listen to people talk about why they did something, granted they have something to significant to say. Of course, there's a little bit, okay a lot, of this being about validating my own desire to explain myself. I love to explain myself. (Which of course leads to meeting the need of wanting to be known.) So movies, good ones like Garden State, fascinate me because they say so much about us, about people, about relationships, without saying it directly, or at least without loosing the feeling, or the essence. I've been thinking about this a lot lately. About art.

Here's what I have so far.

I'll use the movie Crash as an example. The movie is all about the complexity of racism and racial brokenness. The film conveys the truth about racism is a much more accurate way, I think, that a seminar on racism would. Because the movie is art and not just facts, it contains both truth and the essence of what that truth looks like or would feel like if experienced. Someone I know who just watched the film said they thought it was good but that it was unbelievable because of the connections between the characters, the way each characters story overlapped with the others was too coincidental to be realistic. But I think the movie isn't supposed to be realistic, it's supposed to be truthful. You can't make something that is only two hours long convey the truth and complexity of actually reality. In order to look at reality in it's entirely, something has to be fake, unrealistic, pretend, in order to convey not the same reality, but the same truth. This a mystery of Art. Art takes something that is unrealistic to convey the truth about the realistic. Of course realistic things are involved in the process, but facts have to be bent and broken in order to convey the meaning or essence, truth.

Something like that. Still processing.

Here's a cool tangent. It's portraits of people, many over 100 years old. Facinating to think about their lives.

welcome to chicago

It was 3am when we landed, and we still had a three and a half hour drive in front of us. Luckily, neither of us were responsible for the driving. Before the (second) trip began, our destination being Morton, IL, I got my first "Oasis" experience. Here in the Mid-West, is Illinois considered Mid-West?, they have these stops along the freeway that look like an overpass but instead of being a bridge for cars, it's a covered mini-mall-food-court complete with Starbuck's, McDonald's, and others restaurants, and oh yeah, a gas station. Unfortunately for us, the only thing open at, now 4am, was McDonald's and nothing looked too appealing even at that hour.

The drive continued with the occasional conversation which, like it always does, seems to always end with no distinguishable, yet mutually agreed upon signal.

Next stop was Judy's, a little diner with old metal signs surrounding the eating area and all for sale with what must be a holiday discount. I had eggs and hashbrowns and a hot chocolate. Our waitress was very nice.

When we reached our destination, our in-laws house, I went upstairs and went fast to sleep.

Since then I've played a round of disc golf on my first Mid-West 18 hole course, watched two movies, three episodes of Grey's Anatomy, played two games of Carcassonne (look it up, it's a great game), sat through three present openings, a church service, and washed the same dishes about three times.

In Summary: I love my brother and sister-in-law. They are great people to be around. I'm not sure if it feels like whatever Christmas is supposed to feel like, but it does feel like family. I miss my family and wish I could be with them, but this is a good alternative. I'm not sure if I'm ready to staff Urbana, but here we go. I think I've come up with a good New Year resolution, but I'll post that later.

perfect moment

Here I am at an independent (free-trade-promoting/selling) coffee shop in downtown Bakersfield listening to Brett Dennen on Pandora writing a blog while utilizing the shop's free wi-fi. If this isn't the perfect moment in my blogging life...

Recently, at work, that's my CAD Assist* work, I've been listening to some podcasts. Here are my top two favorites so far.

- Jacob Wobbrock talks about relational truth
(This guy has a great grasp on filling in all the reality behind the clicke "it's not a religion, it's a relationship." For anyone who thinks the church is hypocritical in this claim, here's a good talk on what at least we hope we are pursuing.)

- Conrad Gempf
(This one requires iTunes and a little searching, it's a two part series entitled "Luke 7:36-49" & "In the Court Yard." If good storytelling does it for you listen and enjoy)

Those observant among you will realize that both these links are associated with Emergent, one from the states and the other from our friends across the pond in the UK. Last year I discipled a student who if you mentioned "emergent" reacted like you had just spit in his face, and although he isn't catholic, pretty much did all but cross himself in response to the contageous evil spraying from the term. Needless to say, the Emergent movement brings with it as much controversy as any new...uh...emerging "fad" of Christianity. It seems you either love or hate, let's see: dancing, rock guitars and drums in worship, 40 days of Purpose, 7 ways to be soooo successful or the best you or how to dance, and now Brian McClaren, just a second while I cross myself. Here's what I love about the Emergent Conversation, as "they" would call it: It's a conversation. People are in dialogue about some serious issues like homosexuality, justice and the poor, Jesus and politics. Anytime those seen as religious are able to have intellectual conversations about something that has ramifications outside the doors of our safe church haven, without shouting or dividing immediately, I'm for it.

Here's the deal, anytime open dialogue happens, it sure sounds a lot more like relationship than religion. If we can talk about things with people who disagree with us, we're actually allowing for relationships to happen, instead of forcing doctrine or dogma down peoples throats. I just as strongly agree that we need to hold our beliefs intact, I do believe certain things are absolute truth, and if I were to give those up I would cease to bring anything to the relationship. However, holding too tightly to those ideas, so tightly that I can't talk about their validity rationally, is a symptom of fear. Fear that I might end up loosing those convictions or worse, allowing somebody else to believe that I'm actually condoning something I'm against. Love allows for vulnerability which says I'll hold on to my beliefs / convictions lightly knowing that the truth is stronger than my grasp to it. I trust that Jesus will be responsible to affirm truth, not my ability to reason. Perhaps that vulnerability, that love, will allow somebody else to loosen their grasp on what they believe is truth, and in that moment, that perfect moment of relationship, the Truth will set us both free.

*I have finally given in to the reality that I am not an Architect's Assistant. I'm not sure that even sounds better than CAD assistant. All I do is draw lines. 5 years of Architecture school at one of the top public architecture colleges in the nation, and now lines, lots of lines....

what's in a box?

Pandora.com is currently my favorite web site. Check out this blog by a good friend from whom I learned about the site. About a week ago the office internet at MS Walker went down and with it all our SPAM and web filtering. I had tried to access Pandora at work but it only received the infuriating "Access Denied" page to delight my screen. However, through some fluke, dare I say divine intervention, once the internet problem at work was resolved, I have full access to Pandora and all it's treasure. For the last six days of work I've listened to music non-stop. Result: increased CAD proficiency, positive worker moral, minor embarrassing moments of being caught either singing along or breaking into a drum solo. This may just be the best music site ever. Listen to this for a while if you want. It's a station based on about six different artists.

chaos vs. whatever is it that other people do

I am not a planner. Let me rephrase that: I make plans, but I never actually expect then to happen. I don't mean the whole, never have expectations so that you never get disappointed, which is actually never admit that you have expectations and then when those don't get met, pretend like your not disappointed, stuff it down deep inside you and wait until it finally bursts out and either ruins a relationship or remains inside but turns you into a bitter monster.

No, I have plans, I have expectations, but I'm just used to them getting changed. Let's stay on the surface here. I'm talking about plans like you and me and Jeremy will meet at 2:00 and then go do this and then this which fits perfectly into the allotted time that we have before the babysitting is up. But then, inevitably, You, Me, and Jeremy becomes You, Me, Jeremy, Peter and Steve. And 2:00 becomes 2:30 and maybe even a little later. And if we're lucky, we still get to go play nine wholes instead of 18.

This I am used to. I admit, I even am often the instigator of such "transformations" to the plan. Let me just say for the record, I realize that this totally irritates those who are much better at keeping to the plan. I'm sorry. I apologize. I'm working on it, but part of me, deep down, has already accepted the fact that this will probably never change about me. It's something that I think is good in some cases, and not so good in others.

Now, let's try to par today huh?

at what point does this become fake

Every Sunday I think about this, which probably speaks more about my own spirituality and self discipline than anything else, why don't they just give in and buy a sign? I know the intentions are good and this totally works for people. Shoot, it works for me, when I am feeling totally reverent to somebody or something, I guess I stand. But here's the confusion: The only other time that I can think of in this culture when we stand is at concerts or at the end of performances or a show. I know that many of the people in church are from a different generation than myself and have it built in that standing up is a sign of respect. So, if me standing up at church during worship is only to stand in unification with those worshippers who stand, I'm all for it, and for all I know, that should be as far as I think about it, now accept it and move on.

But there seems to be something more, at least I like to make something more out of it. Somewhere, deep down, I feel manipulated. Is it just my ego saying, "Hey, I'm an individual. I make my own choices, I'm not feeling the spirit enough to raise my hands right now, so I'm not going to"? Is it my fear saying, "If you don't stand you are less spiritual, and everybody else is taking notes right now and you will forever be known as the rebellious punk who thinks he's too good to stand up, we should pray for him." Or, this one's my favorite, because it requires no conviction or repentance on my part, it's my amazing discernment saying, "This is not authentic worship. Not everybody worships this way. It's forcing people to only express themselves through this culture's traditions and instead of creating members of the body, it's creating conformists who have the inability to truly experience communion with the Father."

This isn't fooling anybody that may walk in off the streets, which they probably wouldn't because they'd have to get through the maze of new construction, welcome tents, and registration cards where they will be made to feel like everybody is so nice to me but I bet it will only last as long as this forced five minute conversation and then I'll just learn to act like I know where I'm going and then nobody will ever say hello to me accept when they are forced to by the infamous 'greet your neighbor' command when again nobody really even knows my name or offers there's after which I feel awkward because when is it socially acceptable in this new group to sit down and can I really even meet somebody anyway in thirty seconds and no I won't raise my hand because I'm new so you can give my your program that's supposed to replace meeting a real person and why is everybody standing now did I miss the sign?? where's the sign?? oh there it is, hey that's helpful.

crikey

I just heard this news on the TV and I am seriously sad. This man seemed so gentle and loving. I'm sure towards the end of most conversations something will slip in about how it should have been expected, but regardless, this is very sad.

new things

I don't like the fact that I am obsessed with new things. Blame it on our consumer culture or my "that's mine" pride, but it's ridiculous. I can hide the more blatant appearances of the "gotta have it" ego because I simply can't afford it, which makes me feel the ever popular false humility. However, it's always the small stuff that sneaks through my look-like-a-christian filter. This week it's the shampoo and body-wash. I'm one of those people who has never settled on a particular brand, or if I do I'm always checking out the new releases. I've got the old spice deodorant but that Axe looks so cool and have you seen the commercials? Shameless, entirely shameless. I'd never give into such low, women degrading, marketing, but...well I wouldn't buy it because of the commercials, just the price, sure...

But I digress, this is how it works:

For the first time in a long while I actually remembered to get some new body wash and shampoo before I was completely out. I bring it home, but it in the shower, and now it takes every ounce of will power to keep using the old stuff until it's gone. Why is that? Nobody will even know that I'm using the new stuff, but darn it, I want to use it so bad. What's going on here? It's wasteful to use the new stuff, it's not logical, it's soooo tempting though. I don't even know what the temptation is? So of course, I'm using the old shampoo and body wash, and feeling really smug about it, but I'm using it more liberally than ever before. It takes more shampoo now that I just shaved my head, wait that's stupid.

My nature is lame.

cheaper than clubs

I just won these two beauties on eBay; my first disc golf purchase. I've only played four times, all on the same 9-hole course in San Luis Obispo two days before my wedding, but I immediately loved it. I have to clarify that it was the first time that I had played "disc" golf, which is distinctly different than "frisbee" golf, and if you're around serious "disc" people they may throw their "disc" at you if you call it a "frisbee." If the "disc" hits you, you'll immediately learn the difference between said "disc" and a "frisbee." although the "disc" and "frisbee" are often the same mass, the "disc" is smaller and harder and more painful when "caught" by any part of the body. As soon as the "discs" arrive, I'm going to go play here.

the only store you'll ever need

Today Tina and I had two new tires put on the car, then Tina went to the optometrist, then we went and bought a hairdryer with a really cool diffuser on it, and then we got our pictures developed. The best part is, we did all of that at one store. Costco is ridiculous. It's amazing. It's the only place I know of where you can by a crib and a coffin, or where you buy enough alcohol for a ship of sailors and a car. Us Americans can get season 2 of Lost, a high-def DVD recorder to watch it on and record season 3, a frickin' huge 65" high def plasma flat screen TV to watch it on, a nice leather couch to sit on to watch the entire season. Then after starring at a plasma screen for all 1056 minutes of season 2, you can buy this nice luxury cherry casket to lay your body in.

I could have gone on for longer, but I'm supposed to go to bed. I seriously wanted to get something from every category on the website.