Throw Down Theology

My EPIC Christmas Music Playlist

Kevin — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 02:02:55 +0000

For the most part, I find the Christmas season completely overwhelming. The one thing that gets me through it is music — but not usually on the “all-Christmas” radio stations. I prefer a bunch of scratched up CD’s from (gasp) almost twenty years ago.

My hands-down, number one, no contest, all-time favorite Christmas album ever is Handel’s Messiah – A Soulful Celebration, with the Boys Choir of Harlem, Stevie Wonder, Al Jarreau, Tramaine Hawkins, Gladys Knight, Patti Austin, and Sounds of Blackness, just to name a few.

I’ve been listening to this since it came out in ’92. It’s probably not for Messiah purists, but I can’t help but think that Handel would somehow approve. This is “soul” music at its best – R&B, modern, hip-hop, rap, urban, black gospel. And when combined with the power of “The Messiah”, it’s pure heaven.

It goes without saying that the Hallelujah Chorus is on the list of best songs, but the unexpected favorite is “But Who May Abide the Day of His Coming” featuring Patti Austin.

But who may abide the day of His coming?

And who shall stand when He appeareth?

For He is like a refiner’s fire.

With the backup singers singing “He’s like a fire, running thru ya’”. You gotta love this one. This definitely ain’t the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.

And then it’s immediately followed by Tramaine Hawkins singing “And He Shall Purify”. This is heaven — here and now. This album literally grabs you and doesn’t let go. Or at least that’s the way it impacts me.

As my knowledge of Scripture increases, and my understanding of the Gospel broadens, the story of the Messiah becomes more and more beautiful. Christmas is not just about a Baby born in a manger. This is all about Creation and Covenant and Israel and the Messiah and the Kingdom of God. To quote Scot McKnight, the Gospel itself is the “Story of Israel as resolved in the Story of Jesus”. And Christmas is where these stories collide.

So you can see why it’s nearly impossible for me to keep my hands on the steering wheel when listening to this Christmas album. If you see a middle-aged white guy in an old Honda, waving his hands in the air, with tears streaming down his face, and starting to cross the yellow line into oncoming traffic, please honk, although I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to hear you.

Just stay out of the way…

Good Friday. It’s good, really good. Really, really.

Kevin — Fri, 22 Apr 2011 20:14:44 +0000

I don’t normally read a lot of biographies or autobiographies, but I recently finished two of the best memoirs I’ve ever read – Waiting for Snow in Havana and Learning to Die in Miami by Carlos Eire. Carlos Eire was one of 14,000 unaccompanied children airlifted out of Cuba in 1962 as part of Operation Pedro Pan.

The second book, despite the not-so-uplifting title, is an amazing story of not only death, but also of rebirth. For Eire, everything died – his childhood, his social status, his culture, his family unit. Everything. But this is his incredible account of being re-born, and it all ultimately centers around his journey of faith.

It’s hard to tell if these few excerpts will make much sense outside of the larger context of both books, but here’s his account of Good Friday:

The Spanish Viernes Santo that Tony and I had grown up with was all doom and gloom, a lethal combination of self-denial, ritual excess, and superstition. It was all about death and suffering, never about the Resurrection on Easter Sunday. Hell, I never even knew Easter existed until I came to the United States. I don’t mean the Peter Cottontail Easter, although that, too, was a total surprise. Eggs? Bunnies? I mean the celebration of Christ’s triumph over death, the assertion that he didn’t stay dead, and we won’t stay dead either. As far as I knew, Jesus Christ died every Good Friday and stayed dead all year long, until the next Good Friday came along, and so on. His sole function as redeemer was to die and stay dead, and die again and again, and hang on the cross, bruised and bloodied, until the end of the world, when he’d come back to judge the entire human race and send sinners to hell. It didn’t make sense, but then again, neither did anything else related to religion.

Later in the book, after reading Kempis’ The Imitation of Christ, he writes this:

I read the book gingerly at first, much like someone on the bomb squad might handle an explosive device.   But before long I am deeply immersed in it, nodding in agreement even with the most repulsive of passages, which ask me to embrace suffering and to hanker for a cross like [that] of Jesus…

Everything changes, from top to bottom.   A veil rips loudly, and light pours through, and nothing looks the same. For the first time in my life I feel as if I’m master of my own destiny, not because I think more highly of myself, but just the opposite: Accepting my own limitations is key. So is accepting it as an unquestionable fact that some higher power is eager to help me overcome whatever the world throws at me, both from without and within…

Slowly, ever so haltingly, I catch fleeting glimpses of Something so awesome that Carlos, Charles, Charlie, and Chuck [his various Cuban and American names for himself] all feel compelled to bow before It, thank It, and trust It without reservation. This response is a physical reflex, not just a spiritual one. Bowing, kneeling, prostrating oneself is as involuntary before It as closing one’s eyes to the full light of the sun…

It will take me several years to figure out what happened there, in that living room. But I know for sure, as I rise from the floor, that I’ve just died again and that nothing can ever be the same.   I also know that this new life will be much better that any of those that preceded it.   Not because it will be less painful from now on, but because the pain will make perfect sense, and even seem like a beautiful gift from that Presence I felt today, for the first time.

Good Friday. It’s good, really good. Really, really. For the first time ever.

These words seem a bit lost without the context of his dark, tragic story. You’ll just have to read these books for yourselves to get a full appreciation for the profound beauty of his journey.

May you have a really, really Good Friday.

The Devil Made Me Post This

Balaam's Ass — Mon, 28 Feb 2011 21:28:26 +0000

Growing up, I remember my grandparents telling me that music involving an electric guitar or drums was “the Devil’s music”. I also recall having a deck of cards that I had eagerly pulled out of a cereal box (back when we’d actually get prizes from our boxed breakfast) only to have it thrown away after being told that the Devil was in them.

Such was the life as a youth growing up in my church. I gained a healthy respect both for the good that God represented and conversely the evil that Satan represented. Heck, even one of the great prophets of the 80′s and 90′s recognized who was behind the evil in our world:

Now I’m somewhat confident that the apostle Paul wasn’t referring to music with a beat or a straight flush when he said that “our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places” (Eph 6.12), but through the years, I have noticed that I’ve given Satan less and less thought in my own personal Christian journey. Even demons don’t garner much attention from me except when I see the occasional trailer for a new exorcist type movie. All this makes me wonder, have we completely removed Satan and his little helpers from the modern day church equation? Do we equate blaming something on the Devil as just flat out loony sounding? Or maybe Satan and his demons are only attacking little tribes in far away 3rd world countries while America is lucky enough to become immune to the powers of the Prince of the Air.

Or maybe, just maybe, Kevin Spacey was right (beginning at :23 mark): watch?v=kl0H1EUQ_38

So what do you think. Would you and/or the church you attend today look or act any different if Satan in fact didn’t exist?

The Student

Kevin — Wed, 02 Feb 2011 20:49:00 +0000

I hate being stood up.

It was a kid I’ve been tutoring. Tony. He’s a senior in high school, and he’s failing Algebra II. He has to pass it in order to graduate. He wasn’t really asking for help — the school decided he needed it. He has decent grades in other classes, but a failing grade in this one course could really mess things up for him.

So I tried to do what I could within “the system”. Throughout the semester, the best I could do was to meet with him for fifteen minutes or so during lunch, and that just wasn’t enough.

The final exam was rapidly approaching, so I offered to meet him on a weekend. We agreed on a day and time to meet at the library.

I called before I left home that day to meet him. No answer. So I left a message.

I went to the library anyway.

He wasn’t there, so I called again. No answer. I left another message.

I waited in the parking lot of the library. And waited. More than thirty minutes.

I finally decided to call it quits and go home. I left to get coffee and then still circled back by the library one more time, still thinking that MAYBE he was just late.

But he never showed up. Never called. Nothing.

I wasn’t angry, but I just don’t understand why someone who needs help wouldn’t take advantage of it.

But that’s a big part of the problem, isn’t it? Not everyone wants help. Not everyone realizes they need help. This doesn’t just apply to underprivileged high school students, or the poor, or the homeless. It’s something dark and stubborn inside all of us.

Tony certainly isn’t the only one who has stood up someone who was trying to help.

How often have I left God “waiting in the parking lot”?

How many times have I not answered His calls?

Am I blind to the system of this world that has me trapped?

Do I not know how much I need help… or do I just not care?

The Christian life is about being a disciple. A follower. A student. Someone who has the humility to admit they have a need, and who is willing to learn from Someone else who knows the way.

It starts with just showing up.

The Crucified Baby Jesus

Balaam's Ass — Mon, 27 Dec 2010 21:59:46 +0000

In the spirit of Christmas, a thought recently struck me re: the birth of Jesus based on a link a friend sent me. Though we as Christians are often quick to communicate the true non-Santa meaning of the Dec 25th holiday, we often pose it as an event to commemorate the birth of Someone who was sent to die for us. While this is obviously not a bad thing to communicate, it led me to wonder – if Jesus had actually been crucified as a baby shortly after birth, would that impact our salvation in any way?

It seems that we often leave out everything that happened in between His birth and death/resurrection when we talk about Jesus. Have we really boiled Jesus down to just three events – birth, death, and resurrection (see Christmas, Good Friday, and Easter)? Don’t get me wrong now. These three events are monumental and imperative to the Christian faith. But, if this is all there is to it, shouldn’t we be able to condense our four gospels rather significantly? I mean, there seems to be a lot of ink wasted on his teachings, miracles, ministry, etc.

All of this leads to another question. If baby Jesus could not have been crucified to produce the same salvific results, does this mean that there is more to becoming (and being) a Christian than just repenting and believing that He died and rose again to take away our sin?

Burnside Writers Collective – Slumdog Messiah

Kevin — Wed, 22 Dec 2010 13:16:08 +0000

I wanted to post this on my Facebook account, but I noticed at the last minute that there were several references to “Social Justice” on the Burnside Writers Collective web site. Sadly, there are a number of my Facebook friends who will see that term and immediately associate it with “liberal socialism” and a host of other politically charged terms.

Maybe in 2011 I’ll start being bolder on Facebook, but for now material such as this will remain on my blog instead. (Much fewer people read this blog!)

This is a beautiful story. It’s sad that some will miss it. (Click on the link below).

Slumdog Messiah

Donkey Fart Doctors of Theology

Kevin — Tue, 30 Nov 2010 21:07:38 +0000

I’m pleased to announce that I have now received a graduate degree. I am now a self-proclaimed “Donkey Fart Doctor of Theology”.

I worked hard for this!

Ye who smelt it, dealt it

Actually, I found this phrase in A Very Brief History of Eternity by Carlos Eire. In it, he quotes Thomas Muntzer (1488-1525), an early Reformation-era German theologian who apparently did not have nice things to say about Luther and other Reformers. (The book link above will take you to Google Books where you can read more about this in context… and maybe pick up a few more choice phrases to use the next time you’re stuck in traffic.)

Ah, the good ol’ days when people were creative.

And yes, I read the whole book and not just the part about donkey farts. Eire offers a very interesting historical perspective on how perceptions of eternity have shaped culture. From the book jacket, it’s “a book about lived beliefs and their relationship to social and political realities…”, but it’s admittedly much heavier on the historical and philosophical aspects than the theological.

I like the idea of “lived beliefs”. In fact, Eire and others are a part of the “Seminar for Lived Theology”. Sounds fascinating, but I probably would get kicked out in the first five minutes for snickering about animal flatulence.

Now I just need to decide how to indicate my degree after my name. Is it a DfD or a ThFD?

Love – Part III (The Brutal Reality)

Kevin — Tue, 23 Nov 2010 19:51:33 +0000

First, a comment about this brief “series” of blog posts on Love:

Think “Star Wars”. Three films, and then you wait over twenty years for the next three. Yeah… I’m saying it could be a while before I try to tackle this topic again, and I might just leave you hanging.

This all started because I was getting tired of all of the “haters” out there in the world. It’s so frustrating to see how it impacts all of us almost daily. It’s very real. But it’s also something I could (in theory) wrap my head around and try to change. I can strive to “love” people with different political beliefs. I can somewhat successfully control my tongue (at least in public) and do a decent job of not bashing everyone I disagree with.

But in doing all of this research on Love, I guess I didn’t realize that I was apparently doing some kind of voodoo rain dance just BEGGING to have my pathetic attempts at “loving my enemies” exposed like Brett Favre text message. God has a way of jerking us out of the blogosphere and into the real world in order to show us what is really in our hearts.

I can’t go into personal details for obvious reasons. But I had an “incident” lately with someone that totally exposed my own inability to truly love. And don’t try to figure out who it was, or start assuming there’s trouble at home or anything like that! It was an extended (and distant) family member that none of you know. Honestly. But it made me realize how much I don’t love this person. I don’t really care about his welfare. I just want him to stop disrupting my life and the lives of people I love.

This incident exposed just how far away I really am from understanding the two greatest commandments:

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind

and

Love your neighbor as yourself

And these aren’t “just” the two greatest commandments — they are the answer to THE ultimate question: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”

The more I thought about this, the more I realized that I’ve been trying to love in my own strength. This week, I got pushed beyond my own capabilities. And I was forced to admit just how impossible it is – in my own strength — to love the way that Jesus demands.

In the grand scheme of things, this week was a test — and I failed. But I (reluctantly and cautiously) welcome the opportunity to learn from it.

As I struggled to comprehend how I will EVER achieve this elusive thing called Love, I looked for examples of faithful people who have gone before us. Corrie ten Boom came to mind — someone who not only survived Nazi concentration camps physically, but triumphed over her enemies both spiritually and emotionally.

She offers us this wisdom from her own horrific experience:

Even as the angry vengeful thoughts boiled through me, I saw the sin of them. Jesus Christ had died for this man; was I going to ask for more? Lord Jesus, I prayed, forgive me and help me to forgive him… Jesus, I cannot forgive him. Give me your forgiveness…

And so I discovered that it is not on our forgiveness any more than on our goodness that the world’s healing hinges, but on His.

When He tells us to love our enemies, He gives along with the command, the love itself.

— Corrie ten Boom (The Hiding Place)

A week ago, this wasn’t where I thought this blog post was headed, but this is what I needed to hear. I hope you find encouragement in it.

And don’t hold your breath waiting on Love Part IV!

Love – Part II (Jane, you ignorant slut)

Kevin — Sun, 14 Nov 2010 17:42:50 +0000

If you read my previous post on Love and bumper stickers, this is the not-so-long-awaited sequel. (Actually, I just had so much to say that it all wouldn’t fit neatly into one post.)

But the more I thought about bumper stickers, the more questions I had:

Aren’t we really just sporting the “team colors” like avid sports fans (or gang members)?
Do we honestly think that anything of real value can be expressed in a 12×3 inch piece of vinyl?
Are we so passive-aggressive that we have to relegate our most divisive thoughts to the backs of our vehicles, where the WORST that could happen is that you might get the finger?

So here’s a thought — maybe we should all get out of our SUV’s and Volkswagen vans and have a conversation.

Or maybe not, if it’s going to look like this… (be patient and give this a few seconds to load)

And here’s a great retort from another episode that was frankly funnier, but even more off-color:

Dan: Jane, you ignorant slut.
Jane: Dan, you self-important swine ass.

Maybe this reveals a lot about the way my mind works and the not-so-positive influences I’ve allowed to permeate my thoughts, but name-calling is so much FUN. And there’s SO MUCH out there (on both sides of the aisle) that SO DESERVE to be mocked and berated and ridiculed, right? Take your pick. There are enough ignorant sluts and self-important swine-asses to keep late-night comedians busy for the rest of our lives.

I truly wish I didn’t enjoy it so much. And you have no idea HOW BADLY I want to slip in a few pictures right now and imply (subtly and sarcastically, of course) just who I think the ignorant sluts and self-important swine assess are in today’s culture. Please, please, please dear God let me show just ONE tiny picture of XXX XXXXXXX. What if I put a black line over her eyes?

But all joking aside, is this what I want to become? A bitter, sarcastic, snarky name-caller? There’s nothing wrong with humor or satire to make a point, but I think we all have a sense of when it starts to cross the line.

Do I turn into Jane and Dan and throw verbal hand grenades, or do I really believe that Jesus has made it possible to transform not only my own attitudes but maybe even have a positive influence on the small group of people that I come in contact with on this earth?

James says that “those who consider themselves religious and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves, and their religion is worthless.”

Worthless? Ouch. That’s harsh.

He also calls our tongues a “a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With it we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse people who are made in the likeness of God.”

Like it or not, these people – the ones we LOVE to ridicule and scorn — are made in the likeness of God.

And the saddest part is that most of the time we’re not really even engaging in conversations WITH them. Nine times out of ten we’re just bashing them amongst our own friends. We sit around the table where it’s safe and we call Glen Beck a clown or call Obama a Muslim. Or maybe it’s just the hint of a joke with a co-worker, with a subtle wink and a nod that says “You’re on MY team, right?“. (Or we blog to a friendly hand-selected audience of peers about the absurd things that the “other people” do!)

And of course the boldest among us actually do go head-to-head in heated arguments and call each other morons for listening to Fox News or Socialists for voting the “wrong” way.

I know this seems pretty simple. Don’t be an ass and call each other names — I get it. But sometimes it’s the simple stuff that trips us up the most. And as important as it is to just keep our traps shut sometimes, I think it’s even more important to figure out how to move forward into actively loving each other. That’s a bigger issue that I haven’t been able to get my arms around yet– but trust me, I have some ideas. ;-}

So tune in next week for… (drum roll please)… “Love – Part III (sub-title TBD!)”.

NOTE: I have to add — so that I’m not COMPLETELY misunderstood — that I’m NOT talking about true “civil discourse” or serious debate. There are systemic, horrific, human evils that we MUST speak out against. There’s a critical need for that. What I’m addressing here is our catty name-calling and personal “empire-building” that goes on every day — the kind of dialog that tears others down purely for the sake of building ourselves up.

Love – Part I (The Bumper Sticker Wars)

Kevin — Sun, 07 Nov 2010 21:45:07 +0000

I’m sure you’ve all seen the popular Coexist bumper sticker… you know, the one with all of the various religious symbols?

I have to be honest and tell you that I don’t think I know anyone personally who has that bumper sticker on their car. Maybe a teenager or two – my kids’ friends perhaps — but no one that I would call a close friend or even much of an acquaintance.

It’s nothing personal. It’s just that most of my friends don’t have any bumper stickers, except for the occasional “Terrific Kid Award” from the local Kiwanis Club, or maybe a subtle decal from a college or local high school sports team. In election years, a political sticker will make its way onto some cars, but even then usually just the name of the candidate — nothing “in your face”. (My kids are a different story… it seems that bumper stickers form a significant part of your identity in your early years of driving.)

But back to my point. What do you think when you see someone with the Coexist sticker? Do you think they’re a like-minded believer who seeks to love God and love their neighbor as Christ commanded? That’s not the first thing that comes to my mind, but maybe it’s because I grew up western Tennessee. But something just “doesn’t feel right” when I see a cross right next to so many other religious (and non-religious) symbols. Working together in a social-political sense is not a bad idea, but somehow it feels like the bumper sticker is implying more than just that.

But have you seen the latest Capitalist knock-off of the Coexist sticker?

The one with the Republican elephant, Statue of Liberty, a gun, a dollar sign and a CROSS? There’s certainly a valid argument for the influence of Christianity on the founding of this country, and I’m not looking to debate that. I don’t care what political party you align yourself with, and I don’t have an issue with gun ownership. I don’t have a problem with capitalism in general. But a GUN and, even worse, a DOLLAR SIGN (!) right next to the ultimate symbol of sacrifice, love and redemption? Hello??? Doesn’t something feel just a little out place here?

How is it that “simple” things like symbols on bumper stickers can get under my skin? Am I the only one who feels this way? I guess I have to think about what’s really going on in my heart when a sign or a comment or a bumper sticker strikes a nerve like that.

I guess it’s not really about bumper stickers. Those are just inane reminders of the serious things that polarize us every day. It’s so easy to get sucked into the debate du jour – from issues as benign as talk show hosts, to major life and death issues with real wars and actual enemies. And don’t get me wrong – these are all things that matter to some degree or another.

But in all of this, how are we supposed to engage with those around us, especially if they’re on the “other side”? Do we really believe it’s possible to actually love others? Jesus says to love our enemies. To bless those who violently disagree with us. To do good to those who literally hate us. Maybe the least we could do is try to like someone with an annoying bumper sticker? (Love the sinner, hate the bumper sticker? Will that count?) Hmmm… maybe an idea for my own bumper sticker…

Picking on Christians with Coexistence bumper stickers… isn’t Jesus is calling us to do much more than just coexist? He’s calling us to love our neighbors in the same way that we love our own selves. To bless even those who literally persecute us. To pray for those who curse us.

Coexistence just sounds like passive tolerance. Love is much more than that. (Coexistence would be SO much easier.)

And for the Capitalist Christian sticker crowd… love isn’t exactly the first thing that comes to mind when I see your gun and dollar sign. Maybe it’s something to think about as you’re pulling into the church parking lot.

This whole crazy idea of “love” had been on my mind a lot lately. I have a lot more to say, and I’ll post more soon…. (and it won’t take me two months next time!).

And if by chance you want to purchase one of these stickers, knock yourself out…

Coexist

Capitalist