PreacherMike

Goodbye, Pensacola Beach. I have to hand it to you: we’ve been coming here every summer since 1989 and during that time you’ve faced Erin (’95), Opal (’95), Ivan (’05), Dennis (’05), Katrina (’05), and now BP (’10) — but you keep coming back. Your resilience and beauty are remarkable.

So here’s the report by the numbers:

Miles ridden: 105 (on a mountain bike)

Raw oysters slurped: 9 dozen (that’s Mike, 108 oysters; Diane, 0 oysters)

Seafood bought, cooked, and eaten: crab, amberjack, grouper, shrimp

Main source of vitamin C: fresh lime juice

Minutes I spent on the beach: 0 (my 15-mile bike loop has beach to the left [Gulf] and right [Pens Bay] but the beach per se isn’t my thing — I love being AT the beach, just not going TO the beach)

Hours Diane has spent on the beach: 35

Children here with us: 0 (which explains the 0 Minutes above)

BP clean-up workers seen: hundreds

Anti-BP bumper stickers seen: too many to count (e.g.: “Plug the hole with BP executives”)

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By the way, here’s my first blog post from seven years ago (isn’t that an eternity in blog time), which was also about Pensacola Beach.

Here’s a sample of Brad R. Paxton’s article “Getting in Front of Jesus: The Politics of Progressive Christianity (Part 1)”:

In a pluralistic world, Christians must bear in mind that the Bible has both mediated grace and motivated genocide. Even as Christian ministers stand on sacred ground in pulpits preaching from the Bible, we must confess that the Bible is contested ground. As contested ground, the Bible is saturated by the tragic trail of tears from untold victims of scripture-sponsored violence.

Consequently, Christian leaders must construct notions of biblical authority that acknowledge the Bible’s ambiguous history. I offer such an approach in my book Preaching Paul (p. 23):

Many Christians assume that the Bible is supposed to hold us accountable to live the gospel. Is it not possible that God also expects us to hold the Bible accountable — accountable to being, through our interpretations of it, an ever more genuine witness to the gospel?

Slave castles, concentration camps, and hateful biblical interpretation marginalizing other religions, women, and gay and lesbian people place a question over the Bible: After religiously-motivated violence whose effects continue, what good news does the so-called “Good Book” contain?

Exclusive approaches to scripture that fail to address the oppressive impulses sponsored by, and contained in, scripture will be whitewashed tombs — antiseptic exteriors masking death and corruption below. On the other hand, nuanced, inclusive understandings of biblical authority openly admit that on certain matters of justice and compassion the Bible misbehaves and is not at its moral best. By forthrightly addressing the Bible’s moral miscues and its oppressive statements, progressive Christians can more honestly proclaim the tomb-breaking power of holy hope and inclusive love.

My “joy for the journey” playlist is code for: music to help when the fog of depression comes in. Sometimes, I’m ready to go with the darkness. But other times, I just want out.

So here’s a taste of what’s on the playlist:

Keb Mo, “Life Is Beautiful”
Brett Dennen, “Blessed”
Louis Armstrong, “What a Wonderful World”
Israel Kamakawiwo’ole, “Over the Rainbow”
Jack Johnson, “Banana Pancakes”
Three Dog Night, “Celebrate”
Jimmy Buffett, “I Love the Now”
Zac Brown Band, “Where the Boat Leaves From”
The Beatles, “Twist and Shout” (makes me think of my granddaughter)
Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, “House at Pooh Corner” (makes me think of my boys when young)
The Doobie Brothers, “Listen to the Music”
The Allman Brothers, “Blue Sky”
Ben Harper, “Get It Like You Like It” (associated with coaching little league …)
Coldplay, “Viva La Vida”
Dave Matthews, “Every Day”
Rare Earth, “I Just Want to Celebrate”
Eagles, “Already Gone”
Grand Funk Railroad, “Some Kind of Wonderful”
Steppenwolf, “Magic Carpet Ride” (live)

Ah, well, there are a few pick-me-ups. What other suggestions do you have? What music can lift you?

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On a music theme, have you listened to Marc Cohn’s new recording, “Listening Booth: 1970″? It’s amazing!

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Congrats to Dr. Randy Lowry, who just finished five years as president of David Lipscomb University. He (and Rhonda!) have built an amazing leadership team and faculty. It’s a top-flight school — a wonderful success story!

Ok, my favorite way to spend my birthday is with my family.

But since that wasn’t possible, the next best way was to spend it with Albert Pujols, the greatest active player in baseball. And to see him homer in Wrigley Field? Icing on the birthday cake.

The last time I saw the Cards and Cubs play at Wrigley was in August, 1968. (History exam: can you think of anything else happening in Chicago that month?) My grandmother and aunt saw how much I loved the game, so they took me the next night. We got to see Bob Gibson pitch eleven innings, though he didn’t get a decision. That’s the summer he pitched 28 — TWENTY-EIGHT — complete games. Today we celebrate a pitcher who has any complete games. Plus, 13 of those 28 were shut-outs.

Anyway, a couple shots of my buddy. (And thanks, Margaret and Leon for the birthday present. Doubt that I’ll ever get to sit that close again!)

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We were blessed at the Heartbeat retreat to have Mark and Katrina Willis with us. Check out the beautiful, intriguing painting she did for our theme: “New Eyes, New Views.”

William WIllimon on “Flag and Cross, Cross and Flag”:

(Willimon podcast)

Uninteresting tidbits about me:

1. When I’m asked, “What kind of food do you like?” it’s hard to answer. I like all foods except for: turnips, beets, mayonnaise, and stuff with a lot of curry.

2. My acrophobia is weird. If God made it, I’m fine. If people made it, I have problems. Stand on the edge of Grand Canyon? I’m good. Stand on the edge of a tall building? I’m not good. Walking across the Royal Gorge? I may cry. Riding tall roller coasters? Not a problem. I’m an adult and no one can make me.

3. I’ve never been to Idaho or Montana. I think the other 48 are covered.

4. I’m Randy Harris’s ride at the airport in two minutes. Gotta go.

What are some personal tidbits from you?

When I first realized that some of the gospel writers had peeked off of someone else’s writing — actually cut-and-pasted material even down to parenthetical comments (see how Matthew includes Mark’s “let the reader understand” — Mk 13/Mt 24) — it was disorienting. And now I’m not sure why. At least in theory I never thought that God had just dictated information to the biblical writers. They had researched, interviewed — probably even used erasers a few times.

So then there was the scholarly debate about who peeked off of whom. I side with those who think Mark wrote first and was used by Matthew and Luke; then Matthew and Luke shared some other common source or, perhaps, Luke also had access to Matthew’s gospel when he wrote.

What was at first a problem for me, though, is now a source of encouragement. I like thinking about the early church preserving the stories of Jesus — passing along stories and teachings, sharing with one another what they knew, even recording the accounts. I appreciate Luke telling us that he “carefully investigated everything from the beginning” (Lk 1:3). And I enjoy contemplating why certain changes were made to Mark’s order, perspective, and wording by Matthew and Luke (though I know people can get carried away with this, claiming to know more than they really know about all the reasons).

Now I think my problems came from leaning too heavily into words like “infallible” and “inerrant” instead of better words like “gospeled’ and “trustworthy” and “authoritative” — thereby forcing modern categories onto ancient texts.

Now the task: to live a life formed by that world-altering story!

So many fun things you can do when you can hold your breath for 3.5 minutes:

They sit in every congregation. They listen to all the confident language. They squirm. And they hide.

They (we) are those who love God, who believe (most of the time) in the story of Jesus, but who struggle with doubt. And they listen to those who narrate God’s divine moments almost as if it’s a foreign language. In some ways, that confident play-by-play makes them feel second class. “What’s wrong with me?”

I’m reading Jason Boyett’s O Me of Little Faith: True Confessions of a Spiritual Weakling, and I’m welcoming it as a gift for all those doubters.

After describing his embarrassment as a twelve year old at how little he could lift in gym (just the barbell with no weights!), he writes:

“Now a couple of decades later, I wonder if that weakness transferred from the outside to the inside. Some days, when it comes to faith, I can’t bench press much more than the bar. I’m spiritually scrawny. I don’t measure up to the power-lifters in the weight room.

“The problem is that I can’t describe my own faith that way. It doesn’t feel right. It makes me uncomfortable. When I’ma round people who do talk that way, it’s seventh grade all over again.”

At this point, I pause to remember Randy Harris saying, “I’m not upset at them. I’m just upset that I can’t get in on any of that.” Boyett is trying to be generous, but it’s clear that this whole “I’m plotting God’s course” language feels unattainable and foreign.

“But the God-whispering-in-my-ear thing doesn’t seem to happen for me. If I hear my conscience, I’m pretty sure that’s because I’m familiar enough with the teachings of Jesus that I feel guilty when I’ve failed in some way. If I wake up in the night, I’m more likely to believe it’s because my dog made a noise than to assume God wants me to pray for someone. (And why does God need me to pray for something so badly that he has to wake me up, anyway? Can’t he just wait until morning? Or, you know, answer the prayer without me? Am I a soulless twit to even ask?)

“If my flight gets canceled, perhaps it’s just the result of a backlog of delayed flights thanks to a major storm somewhere. I’m seriously hesitant to assume a master evangelistic plan behind flight delays, but many well-meaning Christians really do place so much value on a single soul that they have no problem believing that God whipped up a thunderstorm over the Dallas/Fort Worth airport, piled stress on airline employees, and inconvenienced hundreds of travelers for the purpose of engineering a conversation of eternal significance. My honest assessment of most ‘divine appointment’ language is that it is self-centered. Especially if your divinely appointed evangelism is at the expense of a bunch of other people who just want to get home in time to tuck in their kids. (Right: I’m a soulless twit.)”

But there’s more in this rant:

“If I feel an optimistic swell of ‘the Spirit’ during a specific song at church, maybe it’s just that music has a powerful pull on my emotion — a well-timed minor 7th tends to have that effect. Or maybe it’s the sound of hundreds of voices singing in unison that gives me chills. Is there any chance that I’ve been conditioned, in the subtle Pavlovian anticipation of what happens at church, to view this feeling as the presence of God — as God ’showing up’? (Anyway, isn’t God omnipresent? Can an omnipresent deity ever really ’show up’ anywhere?)”

Ok, enough.

If this quote is making you angry, then the book probably isn’t for you.

But if you’re smiling, nodding, and feeling like someone has recorded your most secret thoughts . . . if you have grown weary with play-by-play narrations of God’s healings and promptings and with language of “God put it on my heart” and “God showed up” . . . well, you might want to check it out.

A Fourth of July meditation by Greg Boyd in Q:

In Colossians 2:7 Paul encourages Christians to be “rooted and built up in [Christ] and established in the faith.” The American Patriot’s Bible, edited by Gerald Lee and published by Thomas Nelson, connects this verse to part of a speech by John Quincy Adams, America’s sixth president, concerning the significance of the Fourth of July. Adams says that “next to the birthday of the Savior,” the “most joyous and most venerated festival” is Independence Day. For “the birthday of the nation is indissolubly linked with the birthday of the Savior.” Indeed, Adams contends that “the Declaration of Independence…gave to the world the first irrevocable pledge of the fulfillment of the prophecies announced directly from heaven at the birth of the Savior….” The birth of America, in other words, is the beginning of the fulfillment of Jesus’ mission in the world.

As noble as America’s ideals are, followers of Jesus must never buy into Adam’s delusion — repeated throughout history and still widespread today — that political ideals are a formula for the Kingdom of God. For the Kingdom is not about enjoying “life, liberty or the pursuit of happiness.” It’s about looking like Jesus, dying out of love for the very people who crucified him.