All posts by sonworshiper

Radical Focus on Wrong Things

When does making music not involve playing actual music?

When you’re a “Radical Christian,” apparently.

I hope you all have perfect pitch...
I hope you all have perfect pitch…

A gent named Wes McAdams has a couple blogs that popped up on my Facebook feed. His site is titled “Radically Christian – 1st Century Christianity in a 21st Century World.” One post calls into question why some churches feel musical instruments are a necessary part of the worship service. The next challenges the idea that instruments have any place in today’s church at all.

It concerns me when people assume they’ve found the secret, the missing spiritual link, the one thing that every “good” or “true” Christian should be doing (or not doing) in order to show how much more Christ-like they are than everyone else.

Usually that’s the road to heresy. Because if Jesus isn’t the One Thing–if your message becomes “Jesus and (fill in the blank)” instead–then your Gospel isn’t the good news of grace anymore. It becomes all about doing something to prove your faith and earn your reward. Or it becomes yet another self-righteous way to show how much better you are than the benighted and corrupted so-called Christians in every other church.

However, since I have been a lead worshiper at times in the past, and since one of my passions is worship (to include specifically the musical part often done in church gatherings), I wanted to give Mr. McAdams’ points due consideration.

(thinking…)

At best, he’s being silly and nit-picking, but generally harmless. At worst, he’s way off Scripture, and his condemnations foist an assumed truth based on misunderstandings upon his readers.

He makes important points about what worship has become to many churches. It can be a spectacle or performance with little or no heart. It can be focused on the congregation without giving due regard to the God we’re supposedly worshiping. It can be a misguided attempt to draw more people who otherwise might not be interested in church. And it can feel like a talent show where people get attention.

Those faults are also potentially true of everything else we do in church. But we don’t stop preaching even though I’ve heard people talk about what a powerful speaker a pastor is. We don’t stop giving to the community for fear that someone might do it to be seen doing good. We don’t stop sharing the Gospel even though some Christians talk about the converts they’ve made like an ace pilot keeps track of his kills in combat.

McAdams’ post questioning whether we need instruments in worship makes so many important points that I wish I could share it for all that’s right in his assessment of modern worship. He mentions so many causes for concern that I personally share. Modern worship runs the risk of becoming a distraction, a business model, a Play-Doh fun machine churning out tepid and indistinguishable songs onto albums to create dollars instead of devotion.

But the critique goes awry when McAdams takes a logical point (you don’t need instruments to worship) and makes it a mandatory stance (churches must not use instruments to worship). He does this even while pointing to scripture that tells us to do whatever we do for the glory of God.

In so doing, he throws the grace out with the guitars.

The second post I linked is McAdams’ case for why instruments ought to be forbidden in church. He uses the example of ordering a pizza. If he orders a pizza with Canadian bacon and pineapple, those are the toppings he expects to receive, no more, no less.

The analogy is, if God in the New Testament only mentions making music with our lips and our thankful hearts, then those are the only “toppings” God wants on His praise-pie. The New Testament makes no mention of musical instruments, only psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs.

And McAdams argues, that silence is a prohibitive restriction in the same way that I don’t need to say “No green peppers” if I order his pizza as described earlier.

The logic is flawed.

What would 1st century hearers possibly think when told to sing psalms and hymns? Would they possibly think of the psalms of David and others recorded in scripture? Would they see it in a way appropriate to their culture? Was music with instruments forbidden as an expression of worship for the Jewish people?

Hardly.

Psalm 92:1-3 “It is good to give thanks to the LORD… with the ten-stringed lute and with the harp, with resounding music upon the lyre.”

Psalm 33:2 “Give thanks the LORD with the lyre; sing praises to Him with a harp of ten strings.”

Psalm 81:2-3 “Raise a song, strike the timbrel, the sweet sounding lyre with the harp. Blow the trumpet…” (all references NASB)

That search took all of two seconds. And there’s plenty more.

McAdams makes the case that the Old Testament doesn’t apply here, just like the pizza order I made last week may not be the toppings I want today. We’re under the New Testament, so what God orders in the New is all that matters.

But the OT informs the NT, and gives us a perspective on the understanding 1st century hearers would have. Otherwise, let’s strip it out of the Bibles, because we only need what is recorded in the NT, right?

By definition, “psalms” and “songs” could be logically assumed to involve music with instruments. The counterpoint to his pizza analogy is that—without specifically saying so—he expects his pizza toppings to arrive placed upon a crust covered with sauce and cheese, because that’s what a pizza is.

IMG_0924.JPG
I guess you don’t want these, because you didn’t specifically ask.

The difference between his misguided focus and my rant is this: grace.

Self-righteousness likes to tell others where they’re going wrong. But Grace is big enough to say “If you worship without instruments, praise God! If you worship with instruments, praise God! Do everything for the glory of God!”

A radical thought, I know… but one that’s big enough for us all to come together.

Beneath the Willow

[Found on Widescreen Wallpapers ]
[Found on Widescreen Wallpapers ]

Under the stars, I’ve made you a bed
Forget your cares, find rest now instead
Shoremists your shroud, grass for your pillow
Lay your arms down beneath the Willow

Duty is done, your battle is finished
Fear not the dark, though light be diminished
Under the moon with comrades and fellows
Lay your heads down beneath the Willow

If dreams disturb and peace slips away
Ancient fears stir, no longer at bay
If nightmares come, and shouts of war echo
I’ll whisper a prayer for you, beneath the Willow

When my day comes, I’ll lay my life down
No longer by burdens and memories bound
Say my farewell where the ocean breeze billows
And I’ll join you there, beneath the Willow

Under the Willow, down by the seashore
We’ll be together as we were before
Under the Willow, beneath the moonlight
We’ll sleep under stars forevermore

Idealism and Reality

The most recent celebrity picture hack is all over the news, and Jennifer Lawrence’s name seems to be in every headline.

Hacking is illegal, and invading someone’s expected privacy is a terrible violation of the individual. I feel for J-Law and her peers, whose private photos and whatever else have now found their way to the Internet, where, sadly, the rule of thumb is, nothing ever truly disappears.

Like words spoken then regretted, it’s impossible to retrieve what gets onto the Web. No matter how hard you try, no matter how hard you wish you could go back in time and make a different decision.

That sucks, but it’s–if not a fact–at least a basic working assumption you can go on when using anything online.

Some folks want to point this out to the celebs whose privacy has been violated. When one of the celebs castigated the perpetrators and anyone going out to view those images, she got a snarky response saying, “Hey, don’t take the picture if you don’t want it seen by people online.”

Harsh and tasteless, yes.

Not the way things should be, I agree.

Victim blaming instead of putting focus on the hackers? I’m not so sure.

An op-ed (which inspired this post) called out the victim-blaming mentality on this and similar subjects. Telling young women not to pose for nude pictures, or telling them not to share or store those online by any presumed secure means–this is apparently inappropriate advice because it puts the responsibility on the woman. Not enough is being done to focus on the actual hacking, the op-ed claims. (Well, there’s an FBI investigation now, so hopefully something comes of that.)

I applaud calling out victim-blaming and condemning slut-shaming, of course. The hackers who invade privacy are to blame, like thieves who take someone’s belongings and rapists who steal someone’s innocence. These actions are absolutely the fault of the perpetrators, also known as criminals. 100% of the blame deservedly rests on their shoulders.

That doesn’t mean I don’t lock my car door.

That doesn’t mean I thoughtlessly allow my teenage daughter to put herself into dangerous situations.

I also don’t take nude pics and store them online. (No one wants that anyway, trust me. It would be an effective hacking countermeasure. They’d come looking for valuable personal information and such, and they’d flee in terror.)

I have no judgment for those who engage in risky behavior online. I wish it wasn’t risky. I reserve a great deal of judgment for those who violate another’s expectations of privacy. I hope they meet the full force of the law.

But I’ll still use this news story as a teachable moment for my children, to help them understand the risks and rewards of all things Internet. I want them to be responsible users… even if “responsibility” is considered an unpopular term.

I’ve created this helpful Venn diagram to further express my point.

The contents of your middle section may vary.
The contents of your middle section may vary.

Should we live in a world where J-Law and anyone else can take whatever pics they want, store them on whatever online service they want, and expect their private matters to be shared only with whoever they choose?

Absolutely, we should.

But we don’t.

And it’s not wrong to point that out.

Forced Extended Rest

I saw this on the shelves of our local bookstore yesterday.

Urge to spend... rising... RISING...
Urge to spend… rising… RISING…

My PHB and copy of Hoard are in the mail, ordered from Amazon a couple days ago. It has to make the long trip across the Pacific to reach my mailbox, which usually takes about a week.

In addition to the two new books, I’ve ordered the set of minis that go along with the Starter Set. Hopefully, once all has arrived, I can sit down on a Saturday with my in-home natural D&D party (my wife and three kids old enough to understand the rules) to get a feel for 5E.

So for now, I impatiently wait.

Back to Albion Again

A couple months ago, my family moved (back) overseas to Okinawa, Japan. When my XBox arrived with some of our belongings, I looked for a few favorite games. I was working my way through the high-definition Anniversary edition of Fable, and I kept finding myself looking for features that were missing from the game.
There’d be something I wanted to purchase, and I’d think, “I need some quick money. Maybe I can pour drinks in the tavern or chop some wood. Where’s the place to do odd jobs to earn money?”
Then I’d remember: that’s in Fable II.
This sparked a madness in me, and I wanted to play Fable II right then. Thankfully, XBox Live has Games On Demand, where you can purchase and download a bunch of old games. Fable II is on the list.
But for some reason, it simply would not download. The purchase would not go through. I kept getting an odd error code.
A quick Google search informed me that – for whatever reason – Fable II was not authorized to be sold online in Japan. It’s no worse than Fable III (not by a long shot) or the original game. So for a few months, I waited for the rest of our belongings, hoping I still had the game and, if so, that it survived the journey.
I finished off my playthrough of Fable Anniversary edition last weekend – playing a completely evil character, as you can get things done quicker when pesky morals don’t stand in your way. I immediately got started on a new game of Fable II.
And happiness filled my addled gamer brain.

IMG_0922.JPG
Photo (obviously) taken from IGN

So, to refresh your memory or perhaps inspire a look at a great game you never played, why is Fable II so awesome?
Much of my argument assumes you’ve played and enjoyed the original Fable. If not, here’s a synopsis:
The series is about the consequences of your hero’s moral choices. The world changes and characters respond differently based on whether you choose noble deeds or wicked misdeeds. Your appearance shifts over time the more you go to one extreme or the other. There’s a fun-enough swords-‘n’-sorcery fantasy storyline that takes you from a nobody to shaping the destiny of the world, but you almost always have a choice to make about how you get there.
If you played Fable, Fable II widens your exploration options dramatically. You can vault over obstacles, jump off of ledges, dive into pools and swim across lakes. The world feels far more free to explore.
The magic system brings some finesse to its controls. Every spell has two options, a targeted effect when you move a directional stick towards a foe, or an area-of-effect around your character when you leave the stick centered. Lightning isn’t just a bolt you shoot at some unfortunate foe; leave the stick centered and it becomes a storm that damages every foe in range around you. Force Push doesn’t just create a bubble that shoves everyone away from you; push your stick toward a target, and you smack a single foe with a blast of power.
Your options for defining your character’s virtues are expanded (slightly). Instead of a simple “good vs. evil” slider, you also get a “pure vs. corrupt” slider. The most obvious visual representation of this is your character’s pudgy or petite body. Right or wrong, a “corrupt” character does whatever they want, including eating pies and fattening meats. A “pure” character (whether good or evil) lives by a stricter set of rules , and thus doesn’t end up flabby.
Fable II advances the “history” of the kingdom into a light Steampunk vibe. There are mechanical creations. More importantly, this means guns are a thing in the game. It’s so satisfying to shoot (and potentially decapitate) some bandits with ranged zoom before they pose a threat. Plus, turret rifles and pistols! Multiple shots before you need to reload!
You can customize far more than Fable ever permitted. First, you can choose your hero’s gender, and both genders are well represented in the wardrobe available in game. Next, you find or purchase dyes that allow you to tweak your clothing’s primary and secondary colors in addition to your hair color. Makeup is another option, and it’s not just for the female Hero; the game incorporates some twisted makeup schemes similar to the Joker that are just fine for your male character.
There are often Jobs available for you to earn money by playing mini-games. Chop wood, forge blades, pour mugs of ale… the games are easy enough you can earn a good chunk of change when needed, and monotonous enough you won’t want to play forever.
I also love the story aspect of seeing the future of Albion. There are plenty of parts of the game that call to mind some of the original Fable’s locations. It’s interesting to learn what became of many of the my old Fable haunts in the 500 years between the two games.
Perhaps most important, it’s NOT Fable 3. The original Fable was an ambitious game that didn’t quite measure up to the amount of hype which preceded it.
(On the other hand, Fable 3 seems like a terrible object lesson in the pain of trying to manage a nation preparing for inevitable calamity. You either have to play as a tyrant who crushes the citizens in order to save the day, or you play the benevolent ruler who fails to prepare the kingdom for war and thus lets it fall into destruction.
No matter which path you take in Fable 3, you feel punished all along the way… which defeats the whole escapist (and FUN) aspect of playing a video game where you get to be the hero.)

Fable II is hands down the best game of the series. The fact I’m ranting about how much I love it several years after its release should make that clear.
Not surprisingly, when we received our household belongings, one of the first things I looked into was the case of XBox games. There right on the first page sat Fable II, as though subconsciously I knew years ago that I’d want to play that game again someday.
Me from a couple years ago was so very right.

The Problem of Evil

“If God is all-powerful, and God is all good, then explain the presence of evil in the world.”

This question, more than any other, is (in my experience) the trump card, the go-to argument for the atheist. Some slam it down like a hammer, driving the point home with as much zeal as a fundamentalist preacher. Others offer it with more genuine curiosity. “How can you believe in the face of such an obvious theological flaw?”

This question gets asked in many ways:

“Why do bad things happen to good people?”
“Where was God during the Holocaust?”
“Why do people starve?”
“If you’re serving God, then why did that tragedy happen to you?”
“Why can’t we have an ebola outbreak limited to Westboro Baptist Church and ISIS?”
“Why does God hate kids in Africa so much?”
“Do you know a person dying of cancer? Can you tell them that God is in control?”

It’s a good question – or maybe I should say a tough one. It doesn’t just raise a logical argument, but it tugs at the emotions, hitting us in a spot where we know something is wrong.

There are answers… but like many issues of belief, they’re convincing enough for the believer to retain confidence, and at the same time vague enough for the skeptic to reject faith.

The cancer question grabs my mind. Terminal illness and sudden tragedies are situations where there just aren’t words good enough to say. People try, of course. Platitudes and pat answers are offered with the best of intentions.

But the general advice is: shut up and just be there with a grieving person.

I noted CNN posted an article about Dr. Kent Bradley, who proclaimed that “God saved me from ebola.”

He’s a believer. I’m not surprised he feels that way. And I’m happy to hear he recovered.

But that statement carries an implication that God either failed to save the 900+ ebola deaths in this recent outbreak… or He chose not to.

Where is the all-good God Scripture proclaims? How does a believer reconcile the terrible events of life with this faith in an all-good all-powerful God who chooses not to act?

My family and I watched God’s Not Dead finally. I think it’s a great movie to reinforce faith for the believer, but I don’t know that the arguments would really shake an atheist’s “faith” in the absence of God.

But two comments stuck with me, because I don’t recall hearing them in my time growing up in church.

First, the point is made that this all-good all-powerful God has–all through Scripture–maintained an intent and a promise to one day eliminate all evil–both the intentional wrong things sentient creatures do, and the tragic suffering we endure as a result of the brokenness of this world.

Evil is being tolerated for a limited time only in order to provide opportunity for something more important: our capacity for good, founded on our free will to choose and God’s grace given to us. God could wipe out evil (and we see in Scripture that He was willing to push the “reset” button on humanity). But doing so takes away from our ability to commit ourselves to Him of our own volition in response to His grace.

More importantly, what struck me in the movie was a comment made very near the end. The dialogue references Jesus sweating blood in the Garden of Gethsemane, beseeching the Father for an exit strategy. “If there is any other way, let this cup pass from Me.” If there’s any way, let Me not go through this suffering.

God’s answer is a clear “No.” He said no to Jesus, fully Divine, His own Son–basically His own self. Jesus suffers and dies and experiences all manner of evil, because God says “no” to saving Him from that.

It strikes me that God’s response is much like the good advice for reaching out to someone in grief. Jesus knows what it’s like to have to “go through.” By that I mean to endure, to suffer, to find that God doesn’t always stop the storms with a “Peace, be still.” He knows what it’s like to be told “no” when asking for a miracle. He raised the dead and healed the sick, but when it was His turn, the heavens shut like iron against His fervent prayers.

In that sense, Jesus joins the ranks of the sufferers, the grief-struck, the overwhelmed.

There are no good words in that place.

But there is His presence. And that is enough.

…for He Himself has said, “I WILL NEVER DESERT YOU, NOR WILL I EVER FORSAKE YOU,” (Hebrews 13:5 NASB)

Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tempted in all things as we are, yet without sin. Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. (Hebrews 4:14-16 NASB)

When Does Inspiration Strike?

Just curious, as it’s almost 3 AM here and I’m wide awake tapping on my iPad.

My wife asked me why in the world I so often wait until midnight (or 1 or 2 AM) to get motivated. I don’t have any good answer for her. Maybe my caffeine intake caught up with me, but even when I’m not pounding coffee, this happens to me.

What about you? I’m sure some of you are the mythical “disciplined writer” I’ve heard about, who sets aside a certain time each day and punches out a quota of words. But that’s not what I’m talking about.

When does inspiration strike and demand your attention?

Favor Vs Trust

I saw this on my FB feed, posted by a friend who often shares various positive affirmations from a number of Christian ministers:

Maybe this is true. But it shouldn't be expected or assumed in every situation.
Maybe this is true. But it shouldn’t be expected or assumed in every situation.

The Scripture reference provided is to the passage in Genesis where Joseph begins his painful journey being sold into slavery in Egypt. Through a variety of divine interventions and up-and-down circumstances, Joseph experiences blessings and pain until he ends up second only to Pharaoh in the kingdom.

With the benefit of hindsight, Joseph is able to tell his brothers that what they meant for evil, God meant for good, in order to save his family and the future nation.

Sitting in the pit and sitting in prison (just like sitting in Potiphar’s house and in the palace of Pharaoh), Joseph doesn’t know all that. He might have hope, based on God’s promises when he was young. He might have faith that God’s going to do something. But he has no certainty either way.

Yet Joseph remains faithful, for he trusts that God is also faithful.

When I read the status above, about God’s favor, I am grieved and distressed by the thought that we have missed the point.

We have a great hope that “God will work all things together for good for them that love Him and are called according to His purpose” (Rom 8:28). That may give us a warm fuzzy that something good in the future will come out of our present pain.

But we’re called not to count on the favor of God to rescue us. We’re called to live out of trust in God, regardless.

Consider Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in Daniel 3. It’s a great story of how God protected His children in the midst of persecution. It would go very well with the status quoted above. Favor is going into the furnace’s flames, and coming out proclaiming His name. Or something like that.

But there are many Christians, so very many, who suffer and die and never see the manifestation of God’s favor. We may not see a Christian promoted to second-in-command of all of North Korea, or a trio of believers standing up unharmed by the AK-47s of ISIS in Iraq. We might not see God promote us to a position of our dreams or use us to display His power to an entire nation or community.

Do we enjoy His favor any less? Do we remain any less faithful?

Is favor the focus? Was favor ever Joseph’s focus?

I don’t think so. In pit or in palace, in fire or fame, as Christians our eyes must be fixed not on God’s immediate deliverance but on His eternal faithfulness.

17 If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. 18 But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.”
Daniel 3:17-18 NIV

Dear Abby's Epic Fail

I’ve had several friends and co-workers over the years who would probably nod in affirmation while reading Abby’s response, and rail in frustration at Ragen’s post here. After all, body fat is one of the few socially acceptable ways we can outwardly judge a person at a glance. We keep limiting all the other options, so ignorant people need *somewhere* to channel their disappointment at the existence of those they deem unfit or unacceptable.

Helpful Perspective

I spent a lot of time tonight griping with my friends on social media (and in person) about how disappointed we were in the new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TMNT) movie.

Two of us sat there in the theater trying not to laugh at the wrong moments, like when a scene is clearly meant to convey some strong emotion or dramatic impact. We also tried not to be emotionally moved by the inane plot, the logical breakdowns in the story, and the constant terrible dialogue.

Normally it’s good when a viewer leaves thinking about a movie, unable to shake the feelings the film created. But not in this case.

Since misery loves company, we took our enjoyment in pondering how bad the movie was, in our opinion. “My childhood is weeping,” I posted on Facebook.

After a lot of back-and-forth banter, I scrolled through the rest of my feed. And my thoughts were swiftly refocused on what matters.

I make jokes about suffering inflicted on my childhood memories by a bad movie. But then I see stories about how children in Iraq are being beheaded for no reason other than the family they were born into.

I’m frustrated by being away from my family for seemingly no reason for the last week or so. Meanwhile, families are being ripped apart figuratively, as it happens literally to family members.

I miss my wife, my daughter, and my sons, who I will probably see in a day or two. In Iraq, wives and daughters are being taken away from homes, forced into “marriages” against their will, or flat-out raped. Husbands and boys are being murdered. Whole families are being slaughtered.

My wife and kids are dealing with the many boxes of belongings we finally received from Nebraska. I’m thinking of work I need to do to help arrange all that furniture and just plain stuff when I get home. Other families in the world have been forced to leave their belongings behind, fleeing to survive, threatened with death should they return to their homes that have been marked by ISIS.

Is it wrong to see a movie? No, that’s not what I’m saying. Is it wrong to miss my family? Of course not. Should we never have fun because there are horrible things going on elsewhere in the world? That would be foolish.

But when I start to think for even a second that I’ve got it so bad, I’m challenged by the news the West is getting (and finally paying attention to) from over there.

There isn’t an easy answer or solution, only a competing array of undesired options. The thought of further military involvement sucks. A decision to ignore the atrocities taking place would be unconscionable. And there aren’t a lot of viable choices that might make a lick of difference in between those two extremes.

I don’t have an answer. I don’t have much in the way of resources to throw at this crisis. And I don’t even have much of a following to hear me rant about how something must be done, as if my words would make some difference.

But at least I can stop and take my mind for a time off the meaningless and banal, if for no other reason than to say that the call for help is being heard and passed on.

And I can remember and cherish what matters most: appreciating family, coming together despite our differences, and taking care of each other…

which, oddly enough and despite all its faults, was the point of TMNT.