“love before breakfast”

Posted because I think Sheila will like this, based on her post today.

rsz_lovebeforebreakfast.jpg

This is a photo by Walker Evans taken in Atlanta, GA 1936 for the Farm Security Administration, with, obviously, the Love Before Breakfast poster (and an Anne Shirley Chatterbox poster) clinging to the wooden fence in front.

I love the juxtaposition here. The glamor of the posters, the threadbare glory of the houses. The fantasy of the posters against the stark reality of life behind them.

It’s gorgeous to me.

a little amazing

Putting the earthquake into perspective, it’s a little amazing — if something can be “a little” amazing — that Mexicali, Calexico, etc., did not fall to the ground and that there isn’t more damage here in SD.

I mean, some statistics here:

The “World Series” earthquake in ’89 was 6.9 63 killed, over 3,700 injured.

The Northridge earthquake in ’94 was 6.7. 72 killed, over 8,700 injured.

The Haiti earthquake three months ago was 7.0 Something like 100,000 to 200,000 dead?

Yesterday’s was 7.2. If I’m understanding my Richter scale correctly — which I’m probably not — that’s 2 times stronger than the Haiti earthquake. Each single number you increase on the scale, for instance from 5.0 to 6.0, is an increase of 10 times in strength. So 7.2 is two times greater in strength than 7.0. Boggles my mind a bit. Thank GOD for good ol’ US infrastructure.

How does it feel, (Gradual Dazzle asked)? Uh, scary. This is the worst quake I’ve ever felt in my life and I grew up in CA. It feels as if the very earth is betraying you, I guess, and there’s nothing you can do to make it behave. What you take for granted every moment of your life as something solid and sure beneath you actually is not. You’re standing still one moment; the next you are simply not able to stand. You’re desperate to find something to grab onto that won’t break free or fall onto you. The world is one of those crazy tipsy funhouses — just randomly, out of the blue. And it’s loud, too. Or louder than you might think. (I was inside my parents’ house when it hit, standing at the kitchen counter. Some of my family was outside in the yard.) Inside, you hear the house groaning and creaking and shaking. It’s as if you hear and feel the distress of the house itself. In less than 60 seconds, its vulnerabilities are exposed, things you never knew before, things you might wish you didn’t know now. Outside, in the open, it feels like the earth is some angry child acting out. Mid-quake, I rushed outside to MB and just felt naked — as if I was at the mercy of this capricious monster rising from the earth. Inside felt safer somehow, familiar. I know my old hiding places, my safe spots. I felt almost guilty leaving our beloved family house alone to fend for itself. For me, the impulse to HIDE in that moment was almost unbearable, but where can you flee from an angry earth?

(Oh! And HUGE jolt just now as I’m writing this, an aftershock that felt like …. hm …. like the earth just clocked you with a nasty uppercut. Wow. Calm down, earth, okay? I promise I’ll do a better job of recycling. Yamahama! That was short just now, but fierce. I just came out of my seat. My heart’s pounding a bit.)

I hope the earth is as still as stone where you are.

easter earthquake

So. Yeah. We had a 7.2 earthquake here in SD about 2 hours ago, epicentered in Mexicali. Too darn close for me. That thing was SCARY, pippa. Yowza.

We’re fine, though.

More later.

(May I remind you: Yikes. Also Eek.)

sad news

One of my favorite spiritual bloggers, Michael Spencer aka The Internet Monk, is terminally ill with brain cancer. He was just diagnosed in December and now it’s just a matter of time. He’s discontinued chemo, which wasn’t helping anyway, and is seeking hospice help.

I’m just numb. So sad. I’m feeling a bit adrift, thinking he’s leaving us.

I’ve read him regularly over the years and he is real and smart and funny and challenging. He isn’t some rigid legalist — he’s too free. He isn’t some nutso Charismatic — he’s too solid. He isn’t some blind follower — he’s too smart. He’s never been bound by how MEN think the Christian life should be lived but focused on Jesus, on truth, and has helped me — oh, how much he helped me and will never know! — to do the same.

I’m missing his “voice” already.

Prayers for him and his family.

what else lacrosse is

At one point in the game, a kid on the other team fell to the ground and stayed there for a little too long. A coach ran out. Another coach ran out. I think his dad ran out. He just lay there. There was silence until the coach yelled, “Get the cart!” A murmur of panic went through the small crowd in the stands. They loaded the kid onto the red cart and as it passed slowly below us, you could see his lower leg bent at a very bad angle. He was not making a single peep, that kid. Shock.

Turns out, he broke his tibia. The kid quietly broke his tibia.

That’s what else lacrosse is.

a sampling of the mindset #1

There are two blogs out there sounding the alarms about the “family of churches” MB and I recently attended. I’ve mentioned them obliquely before, not outright, because I’m still weirdly paranoid about things. Not as much as months ago, but, strange, it’s still there. Fading, but there.

(I think I’m now going to simply refer to Maybe Church as FOC — “family of churches” — because then, oh THEN, I can refer to its members as FOCers, which makes me feel lightheaded and giddy and naughty, like I’ve just made out in the backseat for a really long time. I have no preferred pronunciation here, pippa, because no matter how you choose to pronounce it — folkers or fockers — it gives me JOY INAPPROPRIATE AND IMMEASURABLE. I mean, Christians just love to be “folks” and talk about “folks.” I cannot say whether they love to be “focks” but, well, sometimes it just happens.)

Uh, where was I?

Recently, on both of these blogs, a dude (let’s call him Dude) who attends “our” very own FOC church, blessed everybody by inserting himself into the conversations. He used his full name because if you’re a FOCer you should do no less for the sake of honesty. You do not want to be guilty of slander, which — let’s review — is what anonymous blogging (or anonymous blog commenting) IS. Oh, and let’s also review this: The bigger your anonymous boobs, the bigger your anonymous slander because then you’re an automatic tramp and therefore an automatic slanderer. Dude doesn’t have those woes, lucky duck, although I did get a gander of several men sporting large pancaking manboobs at FOC church. I know exactly who Dude is, and while he doesn’t have large pancaking manboobs, he does have a disturbingly hip-forward gait for a hetero dude. Eh, maybe some women like that. Whatever.

Now these blogs, in addition to sounding the warning bell about FOC, also serve as a kind of hospital, binding up the wounded, offering solace to the hurting and confused. The pain in some people’s posts just leaps off the page. It vibrates in the very air when you read their comments and I sometimes find myself feeling helpless that I can’t do more to help them. If you read long enough, you get a sense for context and stories and for who people are and I think that’s important to do on ANY blog before you comment. Get a feel for the vibe, the people, the tone. You’ll be a better commenter. Dude, however, simply barged into ongoing conversations about something else altogether to make his virtually incomprehensible pro-FOC rants.

I’m posting one of his first comments here, edited a bit for names, for his name, etc., but not edited at ALL for grammar, spelling, or, well, SENSE. I want to give you a feel for the mindset of a random FOCer.

(Anything in parentheses and italicized like this is my intervention.)

Here we go ….

Hey brothers and sisters,


PLEASE READ THIS


I would love to here in one sentence (because we all have long winded breaths! ha!) one thing that FOC does that is unbiblical.  It seems that bashing a person that the Father calls “son” or “daughter” would anger him.  So, let’s think of the truth being outside of us, and then work to get to that truth together, holding hands, not b-o-m-b-s…

I have just four comments to make here.  I am a member of FOC SD and a current student at (Yodellyho Seminary) California.  I am a former pastor of a non denominational church (founder) from Temecula, Ca.  It was the fastest growing congregation in America at one point (3 to 524 in 4 and 1/2 months).  I say that pridefully so that you respect me and will eventually bow down and laugh at every joke I make.

Comment 1: What attracted me to FOC, specifically in SD, was the gospel being placed at the center.  This was the intent of (former pastor) and (current pastor).  It isn’t about how much I read the Bible, how much I pray, whether or not that I tithe, or what gifts that I could finally shine with (I was a former pastor and worship-leader).  When I first lead worship for a small group there, (one of FOC SD pastors) asked me afterwards, “well…since, you didn’t ask for critique, let me give you some.”  It angered me for almost a year that every time that I led worship he did that.  I even convinced my wife that he was a crazy control freak and shouldn’t be a pastor, and that maybe we should leave.  In the end, I realized that he was doing these things to actual serve me.  He saw sin in me and sought me out to care for my soul.  The sin lied within me of wanting to be noticed (HELLO, I was a pastor and worship-leader of one of the fastest growing church bodies before, and it had been two years before they asked me to do anything!).  I, the dumb sheep, didn’t get what my earthly shepherd was doing.


Comment 2: FOC has all kinds of problems.  So does the OPC, PCA, Calvary Chapel, URC, Rome, WillowCreek, John Piper, etc. ad nauseam.  This doesn’t mean that I would leave.  What other good church could I find?  Does anyone know of a good church?  I would love to see one.  Then I could finally be in heaven.


Comment 3: Since, probably, no one here is trained in the Bible (I don’t mean the Pastor’s College because it is pastoral, not intense biblical training), nor called to pastor a church, but called to be a dumb sheep of God, think of Peter, our great example of the perfect pastor, and then rethink your position.


Comment 4: Lastly, we get mad when people make Christianity about what the Christian does and not what the Savior did.  Why aren’t we applying the same to FOC? (FOC Pope) or (some FOC leader, I dunno), or (FOC SD pastor), et. al. are not FOC, their message is.  Do you agree with the gospel?  Then these people are your brothers no matter how bad they gave you a wedgie, chewed you out, didn’t listen to your concerns, or didn’t care about the gifts that God has given you.  That sounds like an earthly brother or sister to me.  They will get this all wrong themselves, but their message won’t change.

I would love to hear your thoughts on this.  I will probably judge you, pray that God give you boils under your armpits, laugh at you, and post your comments of (foc4life.com)I don’t know if that exists, haha; I will actually check right now…nope, doesn’t exist.

P.S. I know how you feel though.  I came from a Calvary Chapel background and had to deal with a lot of issues that people from FOC helped me with.  I get it.  What’s weird is that we love each other because of some dude that died on a piece of wood 1970 some odd years ago.

So, love you all!

Above all, may God bless us with the remembrance of what His Son has done by the power of the Holy Spirit for His Own glory,


Dude Duder

You know HELLO I’m not clear on something: Could you please clarify whether you are or are NOT a former pastor and worship leader? You’re pretty vague on this point, Dude, and most people naturally need to know the contents of your entire CV and be repeatedly reminded thereof before they can form an opinion about you or anything you say. Please be more forthcoming. And then please be forthcoming again, so I can know what to think of you and myself in comparison to you. Thank you so much, Dude.

Uhm, thoughts on this, anyone?

I have more from Dude, but I want to hear what you guys think of him and his comment.

oh, my heart

Have you heard the story about the little 7-year-old hero out of LA who probably saved his entire family? Listen to his 911 call.

I’m tempted to quote him because there’s something so precious, but I don’t want to ruin it.