A religious deviant who enjoys coffee, reading theology, graphic design, and spending time with his wife and son while creatively exploring the riches of the Spirit of Christ.
My alma mater, the University of Northern Iowa, recently won the Missouri Valley Conference championship. It’s the second year in a row they’ve done it, but this season was sweeter. They beat a team in the Wichita State Shockers that had given them two tough games earlier in the season, each team claiming a victory.
As I watched the final minutes of the championship game on Sunday, something hit me. How we read Scripture is a lot like basketball commentators–they’re all watching the same game, but the way it’s interpreted varies from person to person. Sometimes greatly.
This need for affirmation can be a good thing. For instance, when my five-month-old son learned how to jump up and down in his jump-a-roo, he needed to be affirmed. He needed to know that his mommy and his daddy saw what he was doing and were as excited as he was. “This is a good thing, Finny! Keep jumping!”
The need to be affirmed can also take a more sinister spin. The Oscars prove this beyond a shadow of a doubt. “Affirm me!” seems to be the cry of the night–if not the cry of the soul.
It’s been an interesting 24 hours, to say the least.
This may sound unbelievable to some, but I believe the post from yesterday, “Why You’ll See Ellen DeGeneres in Heaven” was Spirit-led. A further explanation of how it came into being is later in the post.
Having said that, I feel some clarification is in order. I’m a huge fan of clarity. So, for the people who won’t read any further than this first paragraph, allow me to make crystal clear what I believe:
Conservative talk show host Michael Savage calls her, “Ellen DeGenerate.” I call Ellen DeGeneres “heaven-bound.”
Why?
When describing the actions of those who will enter the Kingdom of Heaven, Jesus says,
For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.
Simply put, Jesus says the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to those who move with compassion. With mercy.
Jesus’ half-brother spoke clearly to what it means to be a “religious” person. James said, “Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you.” Seems pretty vague doesn’t it? Perhaps that’s on purpose. (more…)
This is a guest post from Dave Sandell. This is the second post in a two-part series. Part one is here.
Creativity & Lost
Last night, Lost began its sixth and final season. And this morning, thousands of blogs, message boards, newspapers, podcasts, water cooler talks and impromptu lunch breaks are springing up dissecting each second of the premiere. Millions of people will obsess over every second and every shot. As I said yesterday, the thought of a community of people responding that way to a sermon or a message from our church is exciting to me. So, today we continue our look at what churches can learn from Lost’s creative process.
Lost is a show that thrives on mysteries, mythologies and answers waiting to be discovered. The creators of Lost seem to have a master plan, and viewers who obsess over every scene are often rewarded. So, I’m tempted to develop a master plan for our church messages. I’m tempted to obsess over each little word.
But what’s amazing about Lost is that it’s mostly accidental. There was no masterplan from the very beginning. Everything that happened, happened organically.
This is a guest post from Dave Sandell. This is the first in a two-part series.
The Audience Experience
Tonight, Lost begins its final season, 18 hours that will consummate a television series that’s changed the way people think about the medium. For the next two days, I want to look at two things churches can learn from Lost. Tomorrow, as we buzz about the ramifications of whatever we see tonight, we’ll discuss what we can learn from the creative process of the show. Today, I want to think about Lost’s audience experience, and what it could mean for a church.
A man can keep his sanity and stay alive as long as there is at least one person who is waiting for him. The mind of a man can indeed rule his body even there is little health left. A dying mother can stay alive to see her son before she gives up the struggle, a soldier can prevent his mental and physical disintegration when he knows that his wife and children are waiting for him. But when “nothing and nobody” is waiting, there is no chance to survive in the struggle for life.
On the morning of the “LOST” season premiere, Henri Nouwen brings our attention to the “anchor.” Desmond had Penny as his anchor as he tumbled through space and time. It kept him sane and alive.
I think one of the most important questions we must answer as human beings is, “Who is my anchor?“ (And please, let us answer this question with the assumption that Christ, first and foremost, is our anchor. This is a given. In other words, it’s okay to have a real, flesh-and-blood person as your anchor.)
Anchors keep us sane. And alive. Both are beneficial for the optimal living experience.
I’m on a roll! I’ve been posting a lot on the Tonight Show debacle lately, mostly because of the sociological, generational and cultural dynamics at play. Simply put, it’s fascinating to watch.
What does the Conan v. Leno squabble mean for the future of North American churches? Consider the following:
Conan is younger. He represents the new generation–their choices, preferences, ideals and viewing habits. Think of Conan as the associate pastor who’s “in line” for the thrown.
Jay is older. He represents the older, established generation–their choices, preferences, ideals and viewing habits. Think of Jay as the senior pastor getting ready to retire.
Think of the NBC executive board as an elders board at a typical evangelical church. They see that the “new guy” isn’t doing as well as they would like, so they plot on how to bring back the old guy in order to “make things like they used to be.”
Most pastors are teachers, but not all teachers are pastors. Most pastors have some sort of regular public speaking routine built-in to there weekly/monthly schedule. As such, we have a lot to learn about human communication.
We have a lot to learn from others who communicate a message effectively and decisively.
One of those people to learn from is Steve Jobs. In fact, someone named Carmine Gallo even wrote a book on the presentation secrets of ol’ Steve. I haven’t read the book, but below is a list of some of the “secrets” unveiled by Gallo in a video at the end of this post.
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