Decompose

Decompose Has Moved!

2006-11-27T19:39:00.000-08:00

You can reach my new site HERE.

Song 'o the Season

2006-08-31T18:15:00.000-07:00

My iPod Nano has revo - lution - ized my music listening habits (thanks kids!). It gets me up close and personal, and I can take it to work, where my job affords me lots of listening time. As a result, I'm listening to all kindsa stuff -- old and new.

If life is measured in seasons, seasons are measured in songs. At various stages of our lives, songs drift in and out, nudging their way into our mental archives, joining other tunes in a mystical / emotional repository. (This is why I can rarely listen to Here I am to Worship, by Tim Hughes, without bawling.)

Anyway, I recently purchased The Flaming Lips' new album, At War With the Mystics. I've been wanting to give The Lips a listen and have so enjoyed the album that I bought an earlier one, The Soft Bulletin. The sound is quite novel -- orchestral, sixties psychedelia, a kind of poppy Pink Floyd. The lyrics are idiosyncratic, unconvential and anything but run-of-the-mill.

So the first song on their new album has been embedded in my brain for the last month. It's a quirky, breezy, hilarous, and utterly addictive diddy entitled, The Yeah Yeah Song. The first stanza goes like this:

If you could blow up the world with the flick of a switch
Would you do it?
If you could make everybody poor just so you could be rich
Would you do it?
If you could watch everybody work while you just lay on your back
Would you do it?
If you could take all the love without giving any back
Would you do it?

And so we cannot know ourselves or what we'd really do
With all your power...
What would you do?

You can listen to the song at the Lips' website, and I recommend you do. I'm not sure how this song fits with, Here I Am to Worship, but it's in my brainpan now. Perhaps this is my Yeah, Yeah season...

Author Intersection

2006-08-28T05:02:00.000-07:00

I'm a huge fan of G.K. Chesterton and am currently reading a fantastic book by him. The Man Who Was Thursday is arguably Chesterton's most popular novel. The book has been called a metaphysical thriller, but its brisk pace, lively dialogue and wry humor are rich with philosophical density. According to Wikipedia, the author

suffered from depression for much of his life, and claimed afterwards that he wrote this book as an unusual affirmation that goodness and right were at the heart of every aspect of the world. He had hoped the book would serve as an encouragement to himself and to other members of his family who also had the tendency to become melancholy.

As I'm given to (what Spurgeon called) "fainting fits" and bouts with melancholy, I can attest to a strange buoyancy I derive from Chesterton's work.

Anyway, I recently purchased a used, nicely aged, hardcover copy of the book and have become immersed. But while doing a little research on the novel, I was surprised to discover an intersection of authors.

Last year, I read Neil Gaiman's terrific short story, A Study in Emerald (which you can read in PDF here). The story went on to win the Hugo and, being it was my first encounter with Gaiman, sent me in search of his other stuff. And there's lots of it. I purchased some of the The Sandman comic series and then American Gods. The novel explores the clash between gods of the old and the “new gods of credit card and freeway, of Internet and telephone, of radio and hospital and television, gods of plastic and of beeper and of neon,” and how Americans have transferred their devotion from spiritual to material and technological gods.

Gaiman has written for film and theater, collaborated on children's books and graphic novels, and has become something of a cult superstar. But what surprised me most about him, was the "religious" influences in his early life.

I learned of it first while scanning Wikipedia's bio of Chesterton. As expected, the prolific English author has influenced many through the years. Chesterton's writings have been praised by such authors as Ernest Hemingway, Graham Greene, Evelyn Waugh, Gabriel García Márquez, Dorothy L. Sayers, Agatha Christie, W. H. Auden, Orson Welles and Franz Kafka. C. S. Lewis, T.S. Eliot and Ingmar Bergman also drew inspiration from him. There is even a computer game, Deus Ex, which features excerpts from The Man Who Was Thursday and the British heavy metal band Iron Maiden uses an excerpt from one of his hymns as the first verse in their song Revelations. Chesterton? Iron Maiden? Go figger.

Enter Gaiman. According to the cyber-pedia:

The author Neil Gaiman has stated that The Napoleon of Notting Hill (an early Chesterton novel) was an important influence on his own book Neverwhere. Gaiman also based the character Gilbert, from the comic book The Sandman, on Chesterton. Gaiman's novel Good Omens, co-authored with Terry Pratchett is dedicated "to the memory of G.K. Chesterton: A man who knew what was going on."

As a child and a teenager, Gaiman grew up reading the works of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien along with Chesterton.

Although Gaiman is Jewish, he attended several Church of England schools. There he studied, among other things, religion. The training gave him a wide background in both Jewish and Christian theology/apocrypha, which he apparently incorporates into his works.

I find these author intersections fascinating and, learning of the Chesterton/Gaiman connection, has only piqued my interest. Perhaps the most obvious question is, How did these early Christian influences shape Gaiman's thinking? It does not appear Neil Gaiman has a unique interest in Christianity (other than the imagery it affords his writing). In fact, it's been reported Gaiman is the son of a prominent leader of the Church of Scientology. While I'm unaware of Gaiman's stated allegiance to Scientology, his proximity to so many differnet religions could explain a lot about his multi-faceted views. It is heartening, I guess, that he and G.K. have crossed paths. But if, as Gaiman suggests, Chesterton was "A man who knew what was going on," I wonder where that places Gaiman.

How Shall We Then Kill? #3

2006-08-24T08:55:00.000-07:00

Possibly the thing that surprised me most about the Wayne Adam Ford case was that, despite his surrender and admission of guilt, the jury still recommended death. I’ve always assumed that contrition matters for something. But serial killers may be another story.

The Crime Library described Ford as "the remorseful serial killer," and said this about his apparent penitance:

Carlton Smith suggested in his book Shadows of Evil, the chances of a serial killer turning himself in and showing remorse for his victims is extraordinarily small. In fact, San Francisco State University Criminologist Mike Rustigan stated in an Associated Press article that Wayne's confessions were "truly an exception in the annals of serial killers." Wayne's apparent shame for his brutal crimes earned him the nickname the "serial killer with a conscience."

Serial killer with a conscience? That seems like an oxymoron.

Nevertheless, the Bible gives us several examples of murderous men who repented. In fact, three of the greatest Bible figures were killers or accomplices. Moses killed an Egyptian and fled to the wilderness and David successfully plotted the murder of Bathsheba's husband. Furthermore, before his conversion, the apostle Paul systematically hunted Christians. But in spite of their acts and various degrees of hardened hearts, God churned inside these men.

While it can be argued that serial killing is different than first degree murder, it cannot be argued that first degree murder shouldn't be equally punishable by death. (Under the laws of some states, Kind David would certainly be recommended for execution.) Either way, none of these "killers" were too far for God to apprehend.

While the Bible suggests there is a state where repentance is impossible (Heb. 6:4-6) and where the heart is terminally hard, the parameters of that condition are anything but clear. A show of conscience can be one of the most important evidences for a redemptive hope. But discerning that evidence is not always easy.

Especially when the individual in question has left a trail of death behind them.

One of the reasons I remain conflicted about capital punishment is our inability to know exactly what's going on inside the heart. Was Mr. Ford genuinely sorry, or just sorry he got caught? Furthermore, should any apparent remorse have bearing upon his sentencing? The record seems to imply Ford was tormented about his crime; he summoned his brother to confess, and eventually turned himself in to the police. To me, this type of inner turmoil points to a conscience that is not yet dead. Either way, judging between a penitent soul and a reprobate mind is too hard a task, one that none of us can ever make with 100% accuracy -- it is something best left to God.

There is, in all this, a clear distinction between the role of government and the role of the Church. One of the commentators in the previous post wrote this:

As Christians, we are called to forgive. We are called to witness. We are called to love the unlovable.

But the government is ordained to stand in the place of God Himself when it comes to punishing the wicked, not as God the Loving, but as God the Avenger. Romans 13 makes it completely clear what the government's role is to be (one could even argue that it's the only true role given by God TO the government in Scripture).

Can I attempt to love and forgive the person who murders someone I know and love? As an imitator of Christ, it is absolutely required of me to do so! But at the same time, my government is required by God to punish that person. And "the sword" does not mean therapy.

This is a terrific point, but exactly how does Christian mercy -- the Church's call to "forgive" and "love the unlovable" -- and "the sword" interface? Can they?

The death penalty can easily be established under Old Testament law. The New Testament is another story. Apart from Romans 13, I'm unaware of any verses that compel Christians to endorse the death penalty. In fact, according to Christ, the law was fulfilled in Him, supplanted by a higher set of principles. We no longer stone adulterers and witches; we pray for those who use us and turn the other cheek. Of course, this does not mean we are flippant with forgiveness and socially reckless, but that love and grace and mercy tempers our judgements.

And that's what I'm wrestling with. How do we uphold the call to judge right and still render mercy? How can I pull the switch on someone else, when I deserve to be executed a hundred times over?

If we live by "an eye for an eye," the whole world will eventually go blind.

There is a God who will avenge the weak, balance the scales and lay bare the secrets of men's hearts. I am not Him. He knows what Wayne Adam Ford deserves. I don't. I do know that God offered His Son to be executed for sinners like me. He turns at the slightest hint of remorse, as the filthy Prodigal stumbles home broken and spent, and meets the wayward soul with grace. And He calls me to do the same...

How Shall We Then Kill? #2

2006-08-21T07:33:00.000-07:00

More people would be alive today if there were a death penalty, or so it's said. No doubt, capital punishment can be a deterrent to crime. But as French existentialist Albert Camus noted,

For centuries the death penalty, often accompanied by barbarous refinements, has been trying to hold crime in check; yet crime persists. Why? Because the instincts that are warring in man are not, as the law claims, constant forces in a state of equilibrium.

The law does not address and cannot balance man's "warring instincts." So while executing murderers may rid society of the truly twisted, it does not "untwist" future societies.

It is partly this internal war in man, or his state in general, that causes me confliction regarding the death penalty.

In the previous post I used the Wayne Adam Ford verdict as a springboard to consider the subject. My final two points touch upon this interior dissonance.

Part of the defense strategy in the Ford case was to highlight the killer's troubled upbringing. This is a typical tactic nowadays, but its effectiveness is debatable and, in many cases, problematic. Most people have had a less than ideal upbringing. Whether it's abuse or abandonment, rage or frigidity, legalism or license, none of us were raised in a perfect home. What's more, we manage to refrain from going psycho. Because of this, I often wonder if the "troubled childhood" invocation elicits skepticism and annoyance rather than empathy.

Nevertheless, I am one of those bleeding hearts that believes a difficult, dysfunctional upbringing can cripple us -- emotionally, spiritually, socially, sexually -- for life. We are damaged goods. And while the roots of evil run deep, the awful fruit takes on a myriad of forms.

I pastored a church for eleven years. No amount of education or training could have prepared me for the depths of brokenness I would encounter in others (and eventually, myself). If you preach to pain, it's said, you'll always have an audience. The truth is our churches are full of dysfunctional, hurting people, some of whom are a tick away from criminal or psychotic behavior. This is representative of our society in general.

I was raised in an alcoholic home. My father was often AWOL and when he was there, he was cold, critical, angry and violent. I was eventually kicked out of the house when I turned eighteen. It took me years to unravel the depths of insecurity and hurt that saddled me and tainted my personality.

Near the end of his life -- the last ten years of which he spent sober and repentant -- my Dad told me about the abuse he underwent as a kid, something he'd refrained from for fifty-plus years. His real father abandoned the family when my Dad was five or six. Enter the stepfather, a cruel man who beat his stepson and left him, for the most part, orphaned. I spoke to a relative once who told the story of the day she found my Dad locked in a closet, squatting in feces, naked and bruised.

Is it any wonder my Dad became a violent alcoholic? But is his awful upbringing any excuse?

You can call this a sob story...but it's my sob story; it's left me intimately scarred and, ultimately, grateful. I cannot excuse my Dad's treatment of his family. But neither can I blow off the damage inflicted upon that lost, little boy.

And somewhere in this there is a balance.

There's no question but that my own history and upbringing informs (perhaps taints is a better word) my perspective. While we can never excuse criminal behavior on the basis of a difficult upbringing, I believe we cannot dismiss or devalue the psychological damage, pain, loss, regret, isolation and utter helplessness that torment some people.

Jesus seemed to address this impressionable, tender pliability in children and spoke some of His harshest words against those who mishandled them:

And whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me. But if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.

Woe to the world because of the things that cause people to sin! Such things must come, but woe to the man through whom they come! (Matt. 18:5-7 NIV)

In this verse, the millstone is not reserved for the one who sins, but for the one who "causes one of these little ones" to sin. Notice, it's not the sin but the forces or people which propel someone toward sin that Jesus addresses. Somewhere along the way, Wayne Adam Ford was an innocent child, one of these "little ones". What changed him? What "caused" him to sin? Does it matter? Christ appears to suggest it does.

My father's alcoholism tore our family apart. His actions shaped my life, crippled my emotions, reverberate inside me to this day. In many ways, he has caused me to sin. But somewhere behind that facade, underneath his rage, was a "little one" whimpering alone in a dark closet.

People aren't born to be alcoholics, thieves and serial killers. There are processes that get them there. While the law may address the crime it cannot address these processes, these "warring instincts," these spiritual, psychological and sociological forces that make monsters out of men. And without accurate discernment of the forces and compassion for those in their grip, capital punishment should be the last resort.

Continued...

How Shall We Then Kill? #1

2006-08-15T19:20:00.000-07:00

These kinds of stories always leave me con- flicted. Last Thurs- day, after two weeks of deliberations, a jury said serial killer Wayne Adam Ford deserved to die for the brutal murders of four women. In November 1998, after the persuasion of his brother Rodney, Ford turned himself into the Humboldt County sheriff's station. At the time, he had a severed breast in a plastic bag in his jacket pocket.

Ford admitted the crimes but, as is typical in such cases, his defense included a claim of mental disorder and asked the jury to take into consideration the defendant’s rough childhood and difficult life. According to the Riverside Press Enterprise:

Ford reportedly had rough sex with the victims, often binding them and using sexual asphyxiation. If the women stopped breathing, Ford told authorities he would revive them using CPR.

But Ford stopped short in his statement to police, and claimed he couldn't remember exactly how the victims died.

Apparently, his claim to amnesia was a big issue with the jury as they felt other evidence pointed to the killer’s full cognition. This, and other things, compelled the panel to prescribe death.

There’s several reasons why stories like this, and this story in particular, leave me conflicted. In Christian circles, there are certain positions that carry a type of stigma. The three I will express here could easily assign me to the liberal, namby-pamby wing of Christendom. But here goes…

First, I am unresolved about the death penalty.

Let me qualify this by saying I believe the Bible permits -- even endorses -- the death penalty. If life is infinitely precious and every action has a consequence, then it makes sense that the willful, unjust taking of another human life should invoke the highest form of punishment. The entire redemptive process is built on this principle. This is what makes Christ’s crucifixion so significant: He bore the penalty for crimes He did not commit, took our death sentence unto Himself. The Father executed His own Son, a terrible, glorious mystery we shall fathom forever.

Furthermore, the apostle Paul said this about government authority:

For he is God’s minister to you for good. But if you do evil, be afraid; for he does not bear the sword in vain; for he is God’s minister, an avenger to execute wrath on him who practices evil. (Rom. 13:4 NKJV)

While Christ extends freedom from the ultimate penalty of sin, He does not however disregard or exempt us from the social and legal consequences of our actions. Executing justice often means executing criminals – even saved ones. Such was the dilemma faced by the state of Texas concerning Karla Faye Tucker. One official put it this way: "According to the law of God, Ms. Tucker is forgiven. But according to the law of Texas, Karla Faye Tucker must die.” After a series of appeals, the repentant killer was eventually executed.

If there's so much biblical support for the death penalty, and if it is morally justifiable, why am I still conflicted?

This could sound extremely soft, but I’m gonna say it: When it comes to human life we should always err on the side of grace, hope and love. All our judgments are temporary, interim and flawed. We cannot know the intricacies of the human heart, nor the path one’s life could have or will take. None of our judgments are ever perfect. Furthermore, I take comfort in the fact that no one will escape God’s judgment. Whatever the charges, whatever the laws of the land, whatever our background, state of mind, extenuating circumstances, or the final verdict, whether I am pro-capital punishment or not – Wayne Adam Ford will face the Judge. He cannot plea bargain or pre-empt that Day; it will supersede all other rulings. As a society, we must address his actions. But nothing we do can alter the fact that a Great Judgment is coming. Whether Ford lives and dies in prison or is launched into eternity by lethal injection, he will face God.

So why not simply lock him up for life, let God and time work on him, and await his death? What principle is being violated if we choose life in prison over capital punishment?

Some would say this position fails to take into account the pain and suffering the murderer has inflicted upon his victim and their family. And no doubt it could. But I would argue that the execution of the killer will never rectify the horror, satiate the pain, or undo the suffering. In fact, killing the murderer may even crystallize the victim's anguish, embed them in state of perpetual anger and unforgiveness.

Even on the cross, Jesus forgave His murderers. He didn’t curse or rail or demand justice; He resigned Himself to the Father. I’d suggest this is the spirit we must cultivate. We must never wink at evil or whitewash the horror of someone’s actions. But likewise, we cannot live in a spirit of revenge and retribution. The "eye for an eye" dispensation was fulfilled at the cross. Yes, what Wayne Adam Ford did was evil, animilistic, and deserves punishment. But what we do with Wayne Adam Ford is another issue.

Continued...

What's the Meaning of This?

2006-08-13T13:55:00.000-07:00

For some reason this post is the most linked to article on my blogsite. Usually about seven or eight times a week someone is directed here based on word searches for this subject. I have no idea why.

Hitting a Sour Note

2006-08-10T20:21:00.000-07:00

The same day another terror plot was uncovered, this one potentially involving liquid explosives and up to 12 UK to U.S. bound planes, I happened to hear a song from Neil Young's new album, Living With War.

Young has turned his talent into a tirade against the Bush administration and what the musician perceives as an erosion of civil liberties. With titles like, Shock and Awe, Flags of Freedom and Looking for a Leader , he draws the party line. But maybe the most blatant of the political songs is, Let's Impeach the President.

Let's impeach the President for lyin'
And misleading our country into war
Abusing all the power that we gave him
And shipping all our money out the door

Who's the man who hired all the criminals?
The White House shadows who hide behind closed doors
They bend the facts to fit with their new story
Of why we had to send our men to war

Let's impeach the President for spyin'
On citizens inside their own homes
Breaking every law in the country
Tapping our computers and telephones

What if Al-Qaeda blew up the levees
Would New Orleans have been safer that way
Sheltered by our goverment's protection
Or was someone just not home that day?

Let's impeach the President for hijacking
Our religion and using it to get elected
Dividing our country into colors
And still leaving black people neglected

Thank God he's cracking down on steroids
Since he sold his baseball team
There's lots of people looking at big trouble
But of course our President is clean

Man, what's with the sour note? Somewhere along the way I think he replaced his heart of gold with a left hook. So adamant is the Godfather of Grunge, that he's even rejoined Crosby, Stills and Nash (a rare event, indeed!) for the Freedom of Speech Tour.

Hey, I don't care if musicians or artists use their platform for political purposes. No one's forcing me to buy their stuff. But with the world in its current state, I'm baffled at the one-sided critique. It is beyond me how someone could be so vocal about freedom and human rights, and so silent when Americans are beheaded, buses, trains and nightclubs are bombed, suicide bombers kill and mutilate innocent civilians, women are oppressed, abused and mutilated, and jihad is waged against the West -- all in the name of one of the great world religions, a professed religion of peace.

And all Neil can say is "Let's impeach the president." Hello? Is anyone home? Why is it that so many celebrities -- these self-appointed ambassadors of peace -- spend so little time and money condemning the atrocities executed by radical Islam? Please, I'm all ears.

I'm not particularly fond of President Bush, but to suggest that he's the big problem here is asinine. America is currently facing much bigger issues than who's in the White House... issues that have been brewing long before Mr. Bush or Young were even around. Our country's in the crosshairs of international terrorism while CSN & Y is creaking around stage spouting about freedom of speech. What's wrong with this picture?

And now another plot against America has been discovered.

Perhaps Neil Young should reflect on the words to his own song, Let's Roll, written shortly after September 11:

No one has the answer,
But one thing is true,
You've got to turn on evil,
When it's coming after you,
You've gota face it down,
And when it tries to hide,
You've gota go in after it,
And never be denied,
Time is runnin' out,
Let's roll.

"Turn on evil... face it down... go in after it..." That's it, Neil. Now you're in the right key.

Shoot the Messenger

2006-08-07T15:00:00.000-07:00

Last week over at The Master's Artist, Deborah Gyapong used the recent Mel Gibson flap to ponder The Character of the Artist. I really enjoy Deb's site and, once again, she made some terrific points. At issue, is the connection (or lack thereof) between character and craft.

In non-religious artistic circles it used to be almost expected that great writers would have serious drinking problems, numerous affairs and dissolute lives. Bohemian or unconventional lifestyles were the norm. In Christian circles, having a squeaky clean image seems to be one of the most important parts of the platform....

While I think it is important for Christians to lead Christian lives, I don't think I'm going to view The Passion of the Christ too much differently now that I know Mel Gibson rants anti-Jewish conspiracy theories when he's drunk. I want to see how a work of art stands on its own.

Separating character from craft, the artist from her art, is a necessary, but often difficult act to perform. Chesterton said, “Art is the signature of man.” As such, the line between the art and the man is indeed fine.

And it's this notion of "lines" that blurs the issue.

Some would suggest there are none. For the most part, art criticism is a subjective affair, an inexact science. Even more murky, however, is the definition and critique of character. While postmodernism broadens the pallete of art appreciation, it also erodes traditional standards to which artists (and people in general) were once held. As a result, we develop tolerance for -- even acceptance of -- the quirks and indiscretions of the creative community. Nowadays, good work eclipses good behavior. So what if the glitterati can't pass a piss test or keep their pants on. As long as they write good songs and make decent movies, we'll continue to wink at their misconduct.

This is partly due to the public's appreciation for the arts.

We lament the dearth of imagination and extol those who show the slightest spark. But inspiration is not without its price. It's part of the "tortured genius" mystique... or millstone. The artisan grapples for the perfect word, bleeds the ordinary in search of the sublime and gathers particles of pixie dust wherever it can be found. André Gide captured the essence of what many creative folk feel when he said, "Art is the collaboration between God and the artist, and the less the artist does the better." No wonder the inspired are so odd. Not only do they sense a Divine unction, they are forever trying to follow its lead or, at least, get out of its way. Sometimes it's more of a tug-o-war than a dance. Yet in some way, the public tolerates the missteps of the messenger because of the weight of her message.

Another reason for the disconnect is the fact that art more often, and more easily, transcends the artist than the artist does her work. God once spoke through a jackass and the speaking, though divine, did not transform the animal. Most artists are the equivalent of Balaam's mule, and their art is far more miraculous for their lowly nature. What surprises us more than that movies like The Passion of the Christ are made, is that jackasses like ourselves can make them. Maybe, in the case of art, a "bad tree" can produce "good fruit." If so -- and all great art emanates from God -- then we can never rise to it. Living up to our inspiration is a Sisyphean task , doomed to repeated failure. Still, the fact that He speaks through sinners is humbling. And the acknowledgement that all artist are indeed sinners is necessary to the appreciation of their art.

Perhaps this places Christians, and Christian artists, at a disadvantage. Not only are we judged by the laws of the medium, we are measured by the standards of the Book. If Mel Gibson had not made such a blatantly religious film, the inquest would be a lot less rabid. But by setting sail under the Christian banner he invoked other laws.

Art may transcend our character, but we can't. Moses led his people to the Promised Land, even gazed at it from afar, but was forbidden to enter. He climbed the mountain, spoke face to face with God, but in the end he came up short. He could not transcend his sin. Visions of paradise are no guarantee of entry. Good writing may get me published, but good character can help me sleep at night. In the end, it's what's chiseled on the heart, not hanging in the museum, that matters. Deborah summed it up this way:

I personally would not want to sacrifice my character on the altar of art. Leading a holy life is more important to me than leaving a lasting work of art.

It needn't be one or the other, but were we pressed, we must choose integrity over aptitude, truth over talent, peace of mind over rave reviews. And, therein, lies the rub -- the divide. Perhaps there is a time to shoot the messenger -- to condemn immorality and shun the sinning soul. But once we start pulling the trigger, it's only a matter of time before we find ourselves in the crosshairs.

Against Manichaeism

2006-08-04T22:50:00.000-07:00

There is a belief prevalent among many religious folk that "things" are evil, that the world and the flesh are devilish, that our appetites wage war against our spirit and must be extinguished. These convictions find root in Manichaeism and, in due season, can blossom into asceticism -- either that or a major guilt trip. In rare cases, rigid forms of abstinence, isolation and even physical suffering is endured to reach some form of nirvana or achieve spiritual purity.

Having passed through stages of both sensual overload and self-inflicted martyrdom, I found G.K. Chesterton's summation succinct:

That "God looked on all things and saw that they were good" contains a subtlety which the popular pessimist cannot follow, or is too busy to notice. It is the thesis that there are no bad things, but only bad uses of things. If you will, there are no bad things but only bad thoughts; and especially bad intentions... [I]t is possible to have bad intentions about good things; and good things, like the world and the flesh have been twisted by a bad intention called the devil. But he cannot make things bad; they remain as on the first day of creation. The work of heaven alone was material; the making of a material world. The work of hell is entirely spiritual.

The quote's lifted from, "The Dumb Ox," Chesterton's bio of Saint Thomas Aquinas. Along the way, the author details more modern manifestations of the dreaded doctrine, taking aim at Calvinism:

The old Manicheans taught that Satan originated the whole work of creation commonly attributed to God. The new Calvinists taught that God originates the whole work of damnation commonly attributed to Satan. One looked back to the first day when a devil acted like a god, the other looked forward to a last day when a god acted like a devil. But both had the idea that the creator of the earth was primarily the creator of the evil, whether we call him a devil or a god.

That the ancient doctrine has many incarnations is beyond dispute. But associating Calvinism with the pagan worldview is a bit startling. Nevertheless, Chesterton's wit and lucid logic never cease to amaze me. But a guy who wears a monocle, sports an overgrown mustache and dons frumpy attire had better be smart.

I am C+

2006-08-03T19:39:00.000-07:00

Back in high school, a C+ would've been swell. But when that grade comes from a literary agent, and it's regarding my first novel, that's different. Actually, it was only three sample chapters, but it still leaves a mark.

Lisa called me at work, tore open the letter and read,

While your project exhibits merit it does not quite meet or exceed the standards we are looking for at this time. If we were to grade your manuscript it would receive a C+. This is a fair grade but means that the ultimate execution of the story is not quite good enough to break in for a first time novelist.

In case anyone's keeping tabs (are you reading this, Ma?), I've scattered about a dozen agent queries. I believe the Lord's had His hand in this, and I wrote about it here. One agent -- someone new to CBA fiction -- has since offered me a contract. I wasn't much at peace, however; when a bigger name agent requested my entire manuscript (which they still have, going on eight weeks). During that time I've had another agent request the first several chapters. So here I am working on my second book, attempting to grow in the craft, and trying not to hold my breath for an enthusiastic agent to hurdle the hedges with a contract and pen in hand.

And then I get a C+.

Realistically, it's my first rejection letter with some bite. The tone was upbeat (after all, my "project exhibits merit"), and the individual pointed out several elements I shall definitely noodle over. It's got me second-guessing a bit, though. How can three agents look at the same chapters, one offer me a contract, one request the whole book and one pronounce it barely average?

Hey, I'm in this for the long haul, so I expect to see my share of unfavorable grades. Along the way, I'll continue to strive to improve, remain teachable and pretend to be professional. One day, I might even be published.

But until then I am C+.

Are We All God's Children?

2006-07-31T10:19:00.000-07:00

Here comes a Baptist, here comes a Jew
There goes a Mormon and a Muslim too
I see a Buddist and a Hindu
I see a Catholic and I see you

We're all god's children
We're all god's children
We're all god's children
Why can't we be
One big happy family

From Alan Jackson's, We're All God's Children

How often have you heard the stat- ement, We're all God's children? Probably a lot. Heck, you may have, on occasion, even said it yourself. The statement, though often innocent, is fallacious and biblically unsupportable.

While Scripture declares all people are God’s creation (Col. 1:16), fused with His image (Gen. 1:26), and madly loved (Jn. 3:16), it designates only those who are "born again" (Jn. 3:3) as children of God.

But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, to those who believe in His name (Jn. 1:12 NKJV)

If a person is given the right to become a child of God, they must not be one. And the right must be exceedingly precious.

The Bible is narrow in this regard. Apart from racial and cultural distinctions, it defines only two categories of people: saved and unsaved, lost and found. The differential between the two may not always be clear (see the Parable of the Tares and the Wheat, Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43), but Scripture is clear about a divide. The lost -- those who have not "received" or "believed" (Jn. 1:12) -- are never called children of God.

And you He made alive, who were dead in trespasses and sins, in which you once walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit who now works in the sons of disobedience, among whom also we all once conducted ourselves in the lusts of our flesh, fulfilling the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, just as the others. (Eph. 2:1-4 NKJV)

Notice, before they were "made alive" they were "dead in traspasses and sins," considered "sons of disobedience" and "by nature children of wrath." Romans 9:8 is equally blunt: “those who are the children of the flesh, these are not the children of God.” And then Jesus told the Pharisees, "You are of your father the devil" (Jn. 8:44), without blinking.

The apostle John references two unique breeds, species or tribes:

This is how we know who the children of God are and who the children of the devil are: Anyone who does not do what is right is not a child of God; nor is anyone who does not love his brother (I Jn. 1:10 NIV).

Between "children of God" and "children of the devil," there is only silence. Perhaps this is why Scripture offers so few choices -- it's either God or Satan, life or death, blessing or curse, light or darkness, truth or lies, the broad or narrow road. Furthermore, the fact that there are only two final destinations -- Heaven and Hell -- is indicative of only two types of residents.

Alan Jackson may be a fine performer, but he is not a theologian. Like it or not, there is a place called hell and unless we turn from our hellish natures, we will reside there forever. Yes, that's narrow and hard. But it's also biblical. As with many such contentions, the arguement is with Scripture, not Christians.

Peter Kreeft puts it this way:

If there is no hell, a religious indifference follows. If faith in Christ as Savior is not necessary, we should recall all the missionaries and apologize for all the martyrs. What a waste of passion and energy and time and life! If there is no such thing as fire, fire departments are a distraction and waste... The exact same authority which is our only authority for believing God is love also assures us that there is a hell. Either we accept both on the same ground or reject both on the same ground, for they stand on the same ground. (Kreeft, Handbook of Christian Apologetics, pgs. 284-285)

So are we all God's children? Well it depends on how the question's asked. If it means, Are we all uniquely created and loved by God? the answer is yes. But if it means, Are we all going to heaven? the answer is unequivocally no.

Mahi

2006-07-29T05:45:00.000-07:00

The deckhands yell, "Dodo!" It's short for Dorado, which is also called Mahi Mahi. It's one of the premiere sportsfish and with the water warming, we were hoping we'd hit some. And last week, we did.

It was a two day trip out of San Diego into Mexican waters. When we pulled into dock late Saturday night, I'm not sure who smelled worse -- me or the fish? We didn't land a lot, but between the Dodos and the Yellowtail, we did all right. At least, Lisa approved (of course, that was after she had a grilled Mahi steak). I'm not sure what was better, taking a shower when I got home or being called The Old Man and the Sea.

Lesson from a Fractured Fairy Tale

2006-07-26T05:29:00.000-07:00

I really wanted to like M. Night Shyamalan's new movie, Lady in the Water. Monday afternoon Lisa suggested, last-minute-like, we catch a flick. Getting me to the show is a chore, not because I don't like movies, but because I believe so few of them are worth the money. I knew Shyamalan's film was out there; I also knew it was getting panned by critics. Anyway, we went and I was disappointed.

However, I gleaned something very important from the movie...something I'm sure the director did not intend for gleaning.

Even though the underlying message behind Lady in the Water is extremely positive, Shyamalan is dangerously close to a rut. What worked in his first, best film, The Sixth Sense, is not just ho-hum, it's almost laughable. If it wasn't for Paul Giamatti's performance -- he was also terrific in Sideways and Cinderella Man -- the film would sink under its implausibility.

And, sad to say, that's what I took away from the movie.

I don't think I'm giving much away by the following info, besides the storyline is established in the first two minutes. It goes like this: Once, creatures of the land lived in harmony with creatures of the sea. But (as creatures of the land are wont to do), we wandered, became dense and generally irritable. Every so often, inhabitants of the Blue World return to knock some sense into their bipedal, clay-clinging counterparts. Enter Story, played by Bryce Dallas Howard, a river nymph or Narf who flops about in the community swimming pool, seeking to enlighten a certain soul.

At this stage, I'm already having a very hard time buying it.

But what really prevented a wholesale leap of logic, was the protag, Cleveland Heep, played by Giamatti. After discovering that a giant eagle will return for the Narf if it's not first killed by an organic canine called a Scrunt (no, I'm not kidding), and that the mean green wolverines are so hell-bent they will endure the wrath of the Tartutics, simian-like gatekeepers that nestle in the trees around the pool, Mr. Heep nods his head and says, "Okay, let's do this."

That's when I lost it.

In between, you have lines like this:

"A Scrunt would do anything to kill a Madam Narf -- even fight his fear of the Tartutic."

Try saying that with a straight face. Along the way, a cast of cardboard characters jump on board with nary a "Narf? Scrunt? Are you nuts?"

I write fiction. Asking your readers to suspend disbelief is a necessary element of storytelling. However even fairy stories have rules. Establishing these rules and laws, and living by them, is an essential part of advancing the plot...no matter how far-fetched it may be. People will buy into a giant ape named Kong climbing the Empire State building, so long as the law of gravity works. Even King Kong must go splat. Shyamalan violates this basic rule. At no point in this film did I get the sense that the characters were resistant to, or skeptical of, the fantastic assertions. When introducing things like Narfs and Scrunts and Tartutics, taking time to build a plausible springboard would seem essential. However, the players' unquestioned acceptance of the wild storyline left me unconvinced, stranded at square one.

I so wanted to like this movie -- and there were some sweet things about it -- but Shyamalan did not take time to make it palatable, plausible. He left me at the dock while his fairy boat sailed into la-la land; he erected a King Kong in zero gravity. In the case of Lady in the Water, a little incredulouty would have went a long way. Note to self: When writing about Narfs, Scrunts and giant eagles, assume skepticism.

INsites: Thinklings

2006-07-23T18:45:00.000-07:00

They are "The Seven Samurai of the Intellectual Universe." No, I'm not talking about Ms. White's dwarves. Dopey, Grumpy and Doc have nothing on The Thinklings. When it comes to group blogs, Thinklings is near the top of my totem. With probing posts like Is Being Mr. Rogers Bad?, What's Wrong with "Jesus Is My Boyfriend," and Open Letter to the Obese Guy at the Gym Who Never Wipes the Machines Down When He's Done Using Them, the Thinklings have carved an indelible niche into the world of religious blogdom. Whether dealing with contemporary worship or the color of Gatorade, these seven dwarves, er, Samurai, never fail to provoke thought and elicit laughter. Jared Wilson describes himself as a "theology geek, literature dork, and film nerd." He's an original Thinkling, a regular contributor to the site, and definitely not Dopey. JW recently distributed noogies to the pea-brained Decompose staffers. The following is a record of that one-sided drubbing.

* * *

MIKE: I hear you're a King's X fan. Have you ever seen them in concert, and what’s your favorite song by the Texas triumvarate?

JARED: I've seen King's X three, maybe four times. Never seen a bad show, although once they got into their later albums the song list was not as much to my liking. Fellow Thinkling Bird and I have seen them a few times together, and there's even a humorous recounting of an "incident" involving lead singer Doug Pinnick crowd surfing in the infamous Gatorade thread on the blog.

Favorite song of theirs is a classic and the quintessential King's X song -- "Over My Head."

MIKE: In your bio, you’re a “recovering student.” What exactly are your recovering from?

JARED: I am primarily referring to required reading that robbed me of several years of reading for pleasure and required courses I had no interest in. I'm a huge fan of academia and scholastic achievement; I'm not a fan of "school." If that makes sense. But I was blessed to have two English professors who saw me as a protege of sorts, who encouraged my thinking and writing (despite my unashamed conservative evangelicalism). I still keep in touch with those men and still consider them mentors.

MIKE: Your Thinkling role is as “The Writer and Critic.” What does that involve and what other roles do Thinklings occupy? Do you have any openings?

JARED: It doesn't involve anything other than we needed something unique for me to answer that particular survey question. At the time, my film reviews set me a part a bit, as well as my writing aspirations. I think I'm also the one guy most invested in literature and literary criticism. I think I'm seen as the "professional writer" of the group, although I have yet to become a professional anything.

The other Thinklings assume various roles, but one curiosity I have is over how particular folks' online presences don't seem to match my experience with them in real life. Just as a for instance: Back when I worked with Kenny and Shrode, I saw Kenny as a more vigorous debater with a powerful voice; to the extent that he posts, Kenny seems less like that now. He actually seems downright meek. Shrode was also known (not by me necessarily) in those days as sort of . . . how I shall put this? . . . "difficult to work with." I never found him that way myself, but we had a lot in common and were friends. Others saw him as sort of arrogant, I think. I think most of our readers would find that (mis)perception very surprising, as he's 100% NOT LIKE that in his online presence and is probably our most even-keeled poster. Shrode is definitely our site's designated pastor.

We have an opening for spam janitor, if anyone's interested. Also, we are interested in a P.I. to track down Asbell and any investigator with paranormal and/or cryptozoological experience to decipher the mystery that is Blo.

MIKE: Spam janitor? Does it involve hazardous waste? Anyway... Thinkling theology seems fairly diverse. Is it? What common beliefs bind the group together, and where do you differ?

JARED: I guess we're diverse depending on who you ask. The Boar's Head Tavern guys always deride us as being all Baptist, and that is actually true to some extent. Denominationally, the original seven Thinklings consist of three Southern Baptists, one Free-Will Baptist, one Church of Christ guy, one non-denominationalist of the Southern Baptist persuasion, and one non-denominationalist of the charismatic Southern Baptist persuasion. We have our theological and ecclesiological idiosyncrasies, but I think we're actually pretty similar. We're all evangelicals and generally conservative, theologically speaking. We do have an old-earther theistic evolutionist among our ranks, which I consider the most interesting "deviation." And even we insiders were surprised to discover one of us voted for Kerry (after months of hammering heavily on politics leading up to the election). We are generally continuationists when it comes to the charismatic gifts, even though we've only got one actual charismatic. We differ almost down the middle on the predestination debate. (Original and honorary Thinklings together, we also include four pastors, two associate ministers, and two worship leaders.)

Extending the profiles to so-called "honorary Thinklings" -- friends with posting privileges -- we throw in more Southern Baptists, a couple more non-denominationalists, and a PCA theonomist. Yeah, he's the surly one.

I don't think I really differ in any way ideologically that sets me apart. I'm probably the only guy a part of a congregation that would be considered a seeker church. I'm not too proud of that, though.

MIKE: Thinklings is incredibly popular. What do you attribute to the sites’ appeal?

JARED: I think it's a bizarre paradox of eclecticism (in personalities and topics) and idiosyncrasy. I think the wide swath of material we cover attracts folks, but then once readers hang around they begin to feel a part of the particular Thinklings camraderie. I can't say I understand it, but something about our friendship and the way we "hang out" together, inside jokes and all, resonates with some people.

To those who like us and what we do and decide to stick around, we are very protective of their inclusion. As easy-going as we have become (the early days of our online presence were dotted with fierce debates and blog-wars), we still take a very hard line on trolls and anyone or anything else that might detract from the community we hope to accomplish.

MIKE: I've always been leery of trolls myself. What kind of person are you targeting with Thinklings and what would you like your regular visitor to come away with?

JARED: I wouldn't say we're targeting anyone, except maybe people like us. That could be almost anybody, though.

We have quite a loyal Brit fanbase, which still intrigues me.

Depending upon the post, I suppose we'd like regular visitors to come away edified, educated, and entertained. If we even accomplish one of those things, I'd feel satisfied.

MIKE: Your group is patterned after Lewis’ Inklings in many ways. Besides the tobacco and ale, what most would you like to emulate about that group?

The friendship, the mutual appreciation. (Can I say the publication credits, too?)

MIKE: If C.S. Lewis were alive today, would he be reverenced as he is now?

JARED: I've been thinking on this question for most of a day, and I'm embarrassed to say I still don't know. The evangelical landscape is very different today, as are the places that landscape overlaps with the literary and academic worlds. I don't think that Lewis as he was then could be as reverenced in our culture. But the Lewis of his day is reverenced today, so obviously the influence he achieved then continues to resonate. But I don't think he could have risen to prominence in our day. I only say that because we have no real Lewis of our day in terms of widespread respect and influence.

MIKE: Thinklings often discuss the arts – film, music, literature. A common tension faced by Christians in the arts, has to do with artistic integrity versus getting the Gospel out. Where do you see that balance? Is the first objective of the Christian artist to get the message out or be true to the craft?

Well, I think that might be a false dichotomy. Getting the message out, depending on what sort of message you want out, does not have to be at the expense of the craft. And vice versa. I think if I had to choose, I would say the Christian artist should be true to his craft first and foremost. I say that thinking of a gifted, mature, thoughtful Christian artist, however. I'm thinking of someone for whom "the message" is not a gimmick or a propaganda piece or just a way of having the right label on his work. A capable Christian artist can almost create without consciously thinking of sticking the message in; as Dorothy Sayers says, his faith will out. (Or maybe it was me who said that in a blog post. Either way, some genius said Christian artists shouldn't have to propagandize to legitimize.

That's not to say they shouldn't create conscientiously in terms of spiritual content. But I think for a believer, being true to the craft necessarily entails a Gospel-influenced message, while one could easily create a Gospel message that is otherwise a bad work of art.)

MIKE: The Thinklings often address unfavorable trends in the Body of Christ. From your vantage point, what must contemporary Christianity most fear?

JARED: The idolatry of self-worship. I think that encompasses every other specific thing I could gripe about (consumerism, hedonism, worldliness, intellectual laziness, biblical illiteracy). Really, the thing we must most fear is what followers of Jesus most feared from the very beginning -- sin. In that sense, there is no real difference between the contemporary Christian and the first one. Only the avenues and opportunities have changed. The real difference, I think, is that back then, and up until relatively recently in the Church, they took sin seriously. American Christian culture doesn't seem to talk about it much at all.

MIKE: According to the sidebar list, the most popular Thinkling post has to do with the color of Gatorade. Why is that so popular?

JARED: You got me. That is the thread that will not die. It's about as old as the blog itself and we still get one or two comments a week on it. I think it's just one of those things that really gets people wanting to give their opinion. And then, depending on how their opinion matches up with the gender theory involved (men see Lemon-Lime Gatorade as green, while women see it as yellow), there might be some defending of oneself to do.

Early on, though, the post became less about the initial question and theory involved and more about the hilarious conversation-slash-debate in the comments thread. That's really been the key to The Thinklings' success over time -- vibrant and fun comment threads.

MIKE: What are your plans for the future of Thinklings? Anything your readers can look forward to?

JARED: Wow. This sort of question makes me wish we made plans. We're just going to keep posting and hope people continue to enjoy the site.

Looking forward, I can say that we've talked about doing another Thinklings Book Club series. The first one didn't go over so well in terms of participation, but there was a lot of interest, so we're thinking that if we pick a more accessible book, it could be fun. (We're thinking maybe N.T. Wright's "The Challenge of Jesus," since that book figured heavily in early, pre-blog Thinklings e-mail discussions.)
I'd also like to look into recording upcoming Ent-Moots (that's what we call our real-life get-togethers) and either providing them online as podcasts or even burning CDs to sell with all the money going to a charitable organization.
Somebody recently mentioned using CafePress or something to sell Thinklings branded merchandise. (Actually, maybe it was me who mentioned that. Or Dorothy Sayers. One of us, anyway.) But I think that's probably too egocentric. Even for us. In any event, readers can look forward to more of the same from us -- eclectic ruminations and general goofiness from a group of guys doing their best to keep up with Jesus.

* * *

Terrific stuff, Jared! I hereby propose we christen thee Senior Samurai. Really folks, if you haven't visited The Thinklings, put on your smoking robe and thinking cap and get on over there. (And for the record, that Gatorade is lime green.)

Absent Without Reading

2006-07-21T06:00:00.000-07:00

I’ve been blogging for a year and, among other things, the experience has inflamed a nagging question: Why do women read more than men?

Of course, there are many variables to the query. After all, men do read. Things like Maxim, the Wall Street Journal and Sports Illustrated are predominantly aimed at and consumed by males. So perhaps the question should be rephrased: Why do women read more fiction than men?

The assertion that women read more fiction than their gallant counterparts is probably beyond dispute. In the recent issue of Writer’s Digest (August 2006), in an article entitled “Do Men Read?” Maria Schneider puts it bluntly:

Conventional publishing industry wisdom has it that guys just don’t buy fiction. Men account for only 20 percent of novel sales...

And then, quoting Karen Holt, deputy editor of Publishers Weekly:

“The gap starts early, as girls in elementary and middle school read a lot more than boys, picking up a lifelong habit that most men never develop. Whether by cause or effect, most novels are published with women in mind.”

Proposed answers to this enigma range from bio- logical, to socio- logical, to emotive. In the afore- mentioned article, one author suggests that men do not read fiction because they don’t want to deal with “complicated, painful internal conflict” – and I must admit that the thought of reading most current fiction provokes those feelings in me. Some offer that “women tend to be shoppers” making even the casual female reader susceptible to a well-marketed book. (Does this explain all the pastel, flowery, cut-and-paste chick lit covers?) And there's other, more and less nuanced opinions.

Maybe we’ll never know the exact reasons, but for me it’s disheartening. Either I am metrosexual, a genetic anomaly, or most men are Neanderthals (a distinct possibility, aptly reinforced by my co-workers). Whatever the case, I’m in that 20 percent.

Blogging has affirmed this uncomfortable reality – and here I’m speaking entirely from my own experience. The circles I traffic in – mainly writers blogs – are anchored by women.

For instance, Penwrights (the critique group I’m involved with) is predominantly female. Currently there’s 4 men (3 of which rarely participate) and over a dozen women. This percentage seems to hold up across the board. For instance, I’ll be attending the ACFW conference in Dallas this September. A writer friend casually mentioned in conversation that, because there are so few men who attend these things, the ones who do get more attention (I must remember to bring extra cologne and breath mints). Furthermore, the Board of Directors for the ACFW, the largest association of Christian writers in the universe, consists of 6 women, and the Advisory Board, 6 women and 1 man (hey, 1 outta 13 ain't bad, even though it seems token). The Master’s Artist , one of my frequent cyber stops, is comprised of 8 women and 3 men. Charis Connection maintains a similar pace with 12 women and 5 men making up their contributors. A terrific new team blog, Speculative Faith, which includes some friends of Decompose, Mir and Becky, follows a similar differential at 6 to 1 (an interesting fact, considering that the site explores speculative fiction, a genre which was once considered akin to a men's only club).

But this discrepancy appears to apply primarily to writer’s blogs. Sites like Thinklings and Evangelical Outpost, which delve deeply into theology and culture, appear to lean towards a predominantly male readership. And perhaps that’s the divide. Men read -- they just don't read fiction.

Okay, so I'm thinking out loud. Maybe I'm wrong for even asking the question; I mean, I sure don't mind the company. But one of the reasons this bothers me is the nagging sense that men are always behind the eight ball, sloughing off their role of leadership, relinquishing higher callings to lesser passions. Perhaps this doesn't apply directly to reading, but I suspect it's in the mix. Until it can be proved otherwise, I'll continue to believe that most men are AWOR: Absent Without Reading.

Research 101

2006-07-18T20:50:00.000-07:00

So last week I met my son, Chris, at Cal State San Bernardino, the university he attends. There we met with Tim Usher. Mr. Usher is a physics professor, specializing in Ferroelectrics and Piezoelectric research (I'm copying this from the CSUSB brochure because I have no idea what the terms mean).

Why were we meeting a physics professor, you ask?

Well, it wasn't to discuss Ferro-lala-bingbang. I was doing research for my next book. Really. You see, Mr. Usher also traffics in quantum theory, a subject that, from the little I grasp of it, is fascinating. It so happens that the more I doodled with ideas for another story, the more quantum concepts kept intruding. Namely, the notion of parallel universes and alternate realities. Yeah, contemporary speculative fiction partakes freely from the worm cans opened by quantum theory. Now that there's a semi-plausible platform to explain things like doppelgangers and lands of Oz, there's no shortage of stories about them.

Unsure how to dress for research, I donned my nerd glasses, Mokulua flip-flops and grabbed a notepad. The professor graciously entertained my juvenile questions and laughed at my stupid jokes. He even asked for a copy of the book when it becomes available (which'll be, like, in the next parallel world, doc). Among the tidbits of info I acquired, the most comforting was the reassurance that very bright people have very messy desks.

Walking back through those hallowed halls, pen in pocket, head swirling with ideas, I felt like a genuine writer (a temporary feeling usually punctuated by rejection letters). Oh well, whatever happens, I was able to finally use that phrase: I'm doing research for my next book.

Confessions of a Jaded Negativist - #4

2006-07-17T07:15:00.000-07:00

The biggest problem facing the Christian cynic is reconciling the spirit of Scripture with their negative, pessimistic outlook. No doubt, there is plenty for us to rail about in this life. The Bible adds fuel to the cynic's fire by making numerous gloomy (albeit accurate) assertions about the world and those who live in it. In fact, many of these assertions are foundational to a Christian worldview. For instance:

Man is estranged from God, his impulses and moral faculties are warped, his nature is permanently corrupted.

Because of our sin and spiritual rebellion, the earth is cursed and each successive generation inherits the genetic drag.

We live in a state of cognitive dissonance, knowing God's law but compelled to forever break it.

Apart from God's saving grace, we will die in our sins and dwell in eternal torment.

The world system is intrinsically evil; civilization will get worse and worse, exceedingly violent and depraved, until God intervenes.

Hell is the destination for all those who reject God's grace; that road is wide and many walk it.

No wonder there are so many jaded negativists! The Bible confirms the fact that people are screwed up (this includes celebrities, diplomats, game show hosts and Dr. Phil), the world's going to hell in a handbasket, and if we don't pull our heads out of our rectal cavities, we'll find ourselves in the mix.

The Christian worldview is built upon a series of blunt, bald, unglamorous declarations about the state of things. Like it or not, there is reason to distrust others, be suspicious of anything popular, eschew all things rosy and buck utopian ideals. Armageddon is inevitable.

Thankfully, the Scripture doesn't stop there. If it did, we could rightly slink off into despondency or smug judgementalism. And herein lies the Christian cynic's dilemma: The same Book that charts Hell and the handbasket we're heading there in, proclaims hope to the captives, rest to the restless and cheer for the chronic pessimist.

To the dismay of cynics everywhere, the last book of the Bible sounds a note of eternal optimism.

Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city. On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be any curse. The throne of God and of the Lamb will be in the city, and his servants will serve him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light. And they will reign for ever and ever. (Rev. 22:1-5 NIV)

Whereas Genesis opens with the Desecration of Earth, Revelation concludes with its Reclamation. For now, evil reigns. As do cynics. But a Day shall come when the tares are plucked from the field, the chaff torched and the Garden restored to its former beauty.

He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. He who was seated on the throne said, "I am making everything new!" Then he said, "Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true." (Rev. 21:4-5 NIV)

And therein lies the rub. While Scripture permits us a critical, unbelieving eye as it pertains to the things of earth, it does not allow us to remain there. We are faced with an ultimatum: Either God wins or He doesn't; either the Son rises or the Night prevails; either the new comes or it's same old, same old.

And this is the crossroad -- the point of impact -- where every Christian cynic inevitably arrives.

At the heart of terminal cynicism is unbelief -- an unwillingness to take God at His Word, to trust Him to bring about what He has promised. Yes, I have reason to be skeptical, critical, derisive and suspicious. But I also have reason to rejoice, to have hope. When I padlocked the door to my church and hung up my robes, I had the option of wallowing. Did I get a raw deal? Possibly. Was the church to blame? In part. Did I have issues? You bet. But I couldn't open the Bible without verses like this tugging at the cancerous root:

And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28 NKJV).

Call it wishful thinkful, Pollyanna, rose colored glasses -- whatever. Either it's true or it ain't. Either God can work all things together for good, or He can't. For all my regrets, my frustrations, my anger, and my disgust, I have come to believe it's true. God wins. Cynicism must ultimately yield. In the end, I'm still a jaded negativist. But, let's just say, I'm becoming more skeptical of myself.

Confessions of a Jaded Negativist - #3

2006-07-10T13:40:00.000-07:00

A collision was inevitable. On the the one hand, my propensity toward skepticism compounded by a bittersweet departure from the ministry, left me sensitized to every spiritual hiccup in the Body of Christ. And, as you know, there's no shortage of buffoons, charlatains, hypocrites and buzzards in the Church. What with a world gone haywire, I was having a cynical field day. The one monkey wrench -- the Bible is very clear about a believer's posture toward life, in particular, church life.

The uncomfortable fact is: It's difficult reconciling Christian virtue with jaded negativity.

The Book of Ecclesiatstes is the closest thing we have in Scripture to sanctified cynicism. It's considered part of the Poetical Books and grouped along with Job, Psalms, Proverbs, Song of Solomon and Lamentations. Ecclesiastes puts a notoriously dark spin on things. Perhaps the best example (and one every cynic should take wicked delight in) occurs early on in the book:

I saw the tears of the oppressed -- and they have no comforter; power was on the side of their oppressors -- and they have no comforter. And I declared that the dead, who already died, are happier than the living, who are still alive. But better than both is he who has not yet been, who has not seen the evil that is done under the sun. (Eccl. 4:1-3 NIV)

Yikes! That's some grim stuff. The dead are happier than the living? Better off that we'd never been born? Sheesh! This type of talk is liable to land someone in therapy. Either that or launch a career into goth music stardom.

The word "meaningless" occurs over thirty times in Ecclesiastes. In fact, the author cuts right to the chase in chapter 1:

'Meaningless! Meaningless!' says the Teacher. 'Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless.' (vs. 2)

And he maintains this existential rant throughout the book, pummeling the reader:

Wisdom is meaningless -- 1:12-18

Pleasure is meaningless -- 2:1-11

Hard work is meaningless -- 2:17-26

Wealth is meaningless -- 5:8-6:12

Youth and vigor are meaningless -- 11:7-10

Pass the Prozac. The Teacher has surely lost his marbles. Nevertheless, this is God's Word!

So does Scripture validate, even endorse, jaded negativity?

A general rule of hermeneutics is context. Solomon is generally believed to have written Ecclesiastes. At one time, Solomon was considered the wisest man on earth, having amassed untold wealth, power and fame. Nevertheless, he took unto himself pagan wives, embraced their idolatries, surrendered to sensual pleasure and materialism and, in the end, succumbed to despair and disillusionment. According to Jewish tradition, Solomon wrote Song of Songs during his youth, Proverbs in his middle years and Ecclesiastes during the latter years of his life. The book, more than likely, chronicles the disenchantment and futility of his departure from God.

Another interesting note about Ecclesiastes is its summation:

Now all has been heard; here is the conclusion of the matter: Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgement, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil. (12:13-14)

So after twelve chapters lamenting the meaninglessness of life, Solomon returns to his roots -- to sanity. When all is said and done -- the injustice, foolishness, oppression, laughter, labor and death -- we should fear God and keep His commandments.

As much as I'd like to use Ecclesiastes to support some type of sanctified cynicism, I cannot. For one thing, it won't allow it. For another, there's verses like Philippians 4:8:

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable -- if anything is excellent or praiseworthy -- think about such things. (NIV)

Does this mean I can't think about crime and poverty and wolves in sheeps clothing? Does this mean I can't cry out when the righteous suffer, when the unborn are slaughtered and when the wealthy strongarm the weak? Does this mean my heart can't break for ministers who are being eaten alive by their churches? No. It just means I can't stay there.

Philippians 4:8 (and many like it) is a pebble in the sandal of the jaded negativist. For amidst all the cynical fodder, there is goodness and beauty and hope. On these we are called to think. And so, for those of us prone to pessimism, a collision is inevitable...

Confessions of a Jaded Negativist - #2

2006-07-06T05:19:00.000-07:00

Being cynical and being a cynic are two very different things. The former is an attitude or opinion, the latter is a condition. Of course, all cynics are cynical. But being cynical does not necessarily make one a cynic.

Because we live in a fallen world, populated by sinners and charlatains, a certain degree of cynicism, skepticism and distrust is healthy, even necessary. Scripture speaks often about discernment -- the ability to see below the surface, uncover agendas, perceive motives. In this sense, cynicism plays a part in discernment and is an important component in a wise, balanced life.

Of course, someone with a propensity toward melancholy (or paranoia, or pessimism), will laud this suggestion. (Cynics love having their naysaying, nitpicky observations confirmed. Public scandal, divorce, fraud and debauchery ensconce the resident cynic further in his smug appraisals.) Perhaps that's why, after I left the ministry, I plunged headlong into the role of full-blown cynic.

It came as a revelation of sorts. I'd been meeting with the associate pastor of a large local church. They were in the thousands and offered to bring me on staff to oversee small groups and train leaders. Yet the conversations with my pastor friend only confirmed growing suspicions about church life. Even in a large, established church, there were concerns about the pastor, questions about methodology and structure, grinding pockets of disunity and discontent, theological differences and listless support. To add to my burdgeoning disillusionment, several weeks later, that associate pastor tendered his resignation.

Maybe my departure from the ministry wasn't that unusual after all. Maybe there WAS a problem with the Church...and those who govern it.

As I mentioned in my intro, there's a difference between being cynical and being a cynic. Scripture seems to imply as much. Perhaps the closest Bible verse -- one that nails it remarkably well -- is Psalm One:

Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of the scornful. (Ps. 1:1 KJV)

The Bible often describes this "blessed" state, what it looks like and how to get there. This verse says we're blessed by not doing something -- specifically, three things. Blessed is the man that doesn't...

WALK in the counsel of the ungodly

STAND in the path of sinners

SIT in the seat of the scornful

The downward progression appears intentional. From walking, to standing to sitting. Bible.org provides a wonderful intro to the Psalms and exposition of these verses.

“Sit” is the Hebrew word y`sh~B meaning “to sit, dwell, remain, abide.” It emphasizes a thoroughly settled state or condition—settled down, comfortable, content with the world with its patterns entrenched in our lives...

“In the seat.” “Seat” is the Hebrew word mosh`B. It means: (a) a seat, a place of sitting, or (b) an assembly where many are gathered together to sit and make deals or have close associations. The point is, when you sit in someone’s seat, according to the idiom, you act like or become what they are. You are viewed as in a confederacy with them.

“Of scoffers.” “Scoffers” is the Hebrew word l’s. It means “to mock, deride, ridicule, scoff.” Grammatically, it is a participle of habitual action. It refers to one who is actively engaged in putting down the things of God and His Word. But please note that scoffing can occur by declaration of words or by declaration of a way of life that scorns the moral absolutes of Scripture and its way of life.

Scoffing and cynicism are cousins. The definition, “to mock, deride, ridicule, scoff,” could be interchangeable. However, the Psalmist is not describing an occasional opinion or attitude, but a manner of being, "a thoroughly settled state or condition."

In this sense, people are not born cynics -- they get there by process. The process is different for everyone. In many cases, temperament and predisposition are the springboard of cynicism. Those who naturally possess a sullen, introspective angle on life are, potentially, consumed much easier. Furthermore, our experiences tend to confirm and reinforce the lathering negativity.

Both these factors were at work in me. Not only do I tend to overthink everything and succumb to flights of melancholy, but my experiences in the ministry built a scaffold of bitterness, hostility and scorn.

I was no longer cynical; I had officially become a cynic.

Confessions of a Jaded Negativist - #1

2006-07-02T08:15:00.000-07:00

I left the ministry in August 1997. As you'd expect, it's a long story. No, I didn't get caught pilfering money, frolicking with the church secretary or faking miracles. But a number of forces converged that made my exit understandable, if not necessary.

I enjoyed teaching and had a distinct sense that God was with me when I took the pulpit. My spiritual gifts are in the "communication cluster," so much of my ministry naturally gravitated toward study and sermon-crafting. But nowadays, church is so much more. There's vision casting, budget making, crisis management, administration, counseling, leadership development, fund raising, community outreach, evangelism, etc. etc. On top of these demands was the hard reality of my station in life: I was an untrained minister, immature husband and father of four children. And as much as I hated to admit it, my wife and kids were getting lost in the mix.

Our church averaged about 120 members, nudging toward 200 several times. Still, in order to expand our staff, I was forced to reshuffle my role and take on side jobs to make ends meet. Facilities were constantly an issue. We rented from schools, churches and a community center. But the transience whittled away at the congregation's morale. Eventually, small pockets of dissension and disillusionment appeared, finding their way into our leadership team. At the time, Lisa and I began having serious issues with our oldest child, Melody. She was seventeen and started dating a boy we did not approve of -- a relationship which took her further away from God and us. Between the family, the church's ongoing struggles and years of accumulated fatigue, the collapse was inevitable.

When I laid down my frock, it was with a combination of relief and sadness. I'd pastored some wonderful, supportive people and shared deeply in their lives and families. Furthermore, I'd experienced what D. Martyn-Lloyd Jones, the prolific Welsh preacher, said in his book Preaching and Preachers -- there is no sense of elation and exaltation comparable to the feeling of taking the pulpit and opening the Bible knowing that you have a message from God for His people. I would miss that. But on the flip side, I would not miss the internal squabbling, the PR, the Christianese, the money changers' tables, the unrealistic demands and phoniness that can be church life.

The English used to quip that there were three genders: men, women and clergymen. That statement is defunct today, but the perception is alive and well. In my opinion, most church-goers, whether consciously or subconsciously, place pastors in another category, something other than homo sapien. We have a complete different set of standards and expectations for ministers. And to me, most of them are unfair.

This possibly explains why I have such a love/hate relationship with the Church. In fact, in the nine years since I left the ministry, I've found myself drifting dangerously close toward becoming this:

cyn·ic (n.)

1.) A person who believes all people are motivated by selfishness.

2.) A person whose outlook is scornfully and often habitually negative.

Webster defines "cynicism" this way: An attitude of scornful or jaded negativity, especially a general distrust of the integrity or professed motives of others.

Notice that phrase: jaded negativity. In a way, it captures what I am becoming: a jaded negativist. The revelation was shocking and the struggle to resist has been difficult. But what follows is my confession...

Pirates of Cthulu

2006-06-30T05:15:00.000-07:00

You already know that Pirates of the Caribbean is one of the most anticipated films of the summer. I wasn't that impressed with the first one and, despite the frenzy, have been only mildly interested in seeing Dead Man's Chest.

Until I saw the poster of this fella.

In the film, it's Davy Jones, captain of the Flying Dutchman. And from some of the sets and costumes, it appears he's really tricked out. Part pirate, part octopus, part lobster.

So I'm looking at this thing, tripping out, trying to figure out what it reminds me of. Then I got it! It's Cthulu -- one of "the old ones," a hideous creature in a pantheon of horrors created by H.P. Lovecraft. But that ain't all. He's also part Blackbeard, the most notorious pirate in history.

Cthulu's had many incarnations since its inception, inspiring dark societies, X Box games, anti-christian propoganda like Campus Crusade for Cthulu, toys and comic parody. But this is the first time I've seen a pirate of Cthulu. Oh well, I hope Disney knows what it's doing summoning the horror meister's star performer for its summer blockbuster.

INsites: T.L. Hines

2006-06-27T20:40:00.000-07:00

With his new novel, Waking Lazarus, poised in the chutes, I'm hoping Tony Hines will finally give up his day job as Spaghetti Cutter for Chef Boy-ar-Dee. When he's not meandering through Montana cemeteries, he's comandeering the juggernaut that is TLHines.com. Recently, the near-feral staff of Decompose gang-tackled Tony and threatened to paint his toenails Radiation Red if he didn't answer a few questions. What follows is the lurid unfolding.

* * *
MIKE: No doubt your interview on Decompose is a career highlight. Exactly how high on your list does this rank?

TONY: Easily makes the top five. Probably somewhere between discovering the secret of cold fusion and winning three air guitar contests.

MIKE: Cold fusion I believe. But three air guitar contests? How did your website, TLHines.com, come about? What was your initial vision for the site and how has it changed?

TONY: The original vision for the site, really, was just to amuse myself. I posted some work on there, a few rants and raves, and got into blogging in 2003. Did a blog series in 2004, in which I interviewed a series of long-shot presidential candidates called "The Dark Horse Dialogues." Why did I do this? Again, a vanity thing--the only thing I really ever envisioned getting out of the site, realistically, was a chuckle or two.

Oddly enough, the site ended up playing a key role in getting me a publishing deal after an acquisitions editor downloaded a sample chapter. So the vision changed after that, obviously. Once that happened, I knew the site had to become a marketing tool.

That's when the site really became two sites: one, the main tlhines.com site, has a lot of background information, press information, Q&A sheets, and my main blog. It's the nuts-and-bolts side. The other site, which I call The Other Side (for reasons people will understand when they read WAKING LAZARUS), became a more immersive kind of site--something that gave people a chance to participate in this strange, wonderful sensation of being a first-time novelist. It gives people a lot of "inside" information, such as my whole marketing plan, a companion e-book with commentary and deleted scenes, a photo tour of the book's locations, and a chance to win some unique prizes: a share of my first royalty statement, an iPod Nano, or a role in my next novel.

MIKE: What kind of person are you targeting with your website, Tony, and what would you like the average reader to come away with?

TONY: That's part of the reason for having two sites. The main site is aimed mostly at press/media, bloggers, and casual readers who might read my book and wander to my site once or twice. I try to give it a bit of personality, but it's mostly informational--the basic who, what, where, when, why stuff.

The Other Side, however, is aimed at the kind of people who really enjoy the book and want to tell others about it, and writers who want to share/explore ideas of their own. These are the people who want to light a fire, and I want to give them a bit of kindling.

MIKE: What are those strange typewriter-like symbols that appear at the top of your page when the cursor hovers over a category? Are they part of some sinister end-time code?

TONY: Oddly enough, those are symbols from the keys to an old manual typewriter.

They are also, as you've suggested, cryptograms sending encoded information to key operatives helping me establish a global one world government. I can't say a lot about this, obviously. But let's just say when Brian Boitano, former champion figure skater, rises to a position of global prominence, the end is nigh.

MIKE: Just as I thought -- a conspiracy in the making! Your Mighty List'o Links is pretty mighty (I stopped counting at a hundred). If you had to select five or six must-see web stops from that list, which ones would you recommend?

TONY: Well, naturally I would tell folks they must start by visiting Bethany House Publishers, the brilliant folks who acquired WAKING LAZARUS.

Among the writerly folk, Stephen King, F. Paul Wilson and James Lee Burke are faves. Aw heck, all the writers listed are faves. Brandilyn Collins runs one of the most informative writing-related blogs out there. In my "iPod Fodder" links, a few of my favorites include David Crowder Band, the Pixies and Wilco. And finally, under the "Bloggin' Fools," be sure to visit Teresa Nielsen Hayden's Making Light blog. Teresa is an editor with Tor/Forge, and always has a well-trafficked, informative and entertaining blog. I don't necessarily agree with her ideology, but I'd hate to only read people who agree with me.

MIKE: You seem like a real digit-head, er, I mean, you have a lot of e-savvy, often commenting on web trends and technologies. How important is "web awareness" and a "web presence" to authors nowadays? What advice would you give to a new author regarding websites and blogs?

TONY: I'm just a tech geek at heart. I enjoy web stuff, and trends, and technology, mainly because I like to tinker. And frankly, I'm fascinated by online culture and where it's going. It's the kind of thing authors such as Orwell and Heinlein were writing about in SF novels just four or five decades ago.

In my mind, every writer these days needs have a web presence of some kind. Even if you don't use it for true promotion, even if you have no interest in blogging, your web site is the single easiest avenue for helping your readers find you.

When I finish a book by an author I like, I hop on the web and visit the author's site. I doubt I'm the only one who does that.

So, my advice is: get a web site. If you don't have the money or knowledge to create and design your own, get a blog. If I only had one web presence these days, I'd create a page on myspace and start blogging/connecting with readers and writers there. It's getting phenomenal traffic and attention right now, and I don't see it fading much in the next year or so (although there are those who disagree with me). Long-term, who knows? Myspace may dry up and go away. But it's a great place to be right now. And don't let all the stories about predators on myspace scare you. The vast majority of people on myspace are non-creepy, and I'd hate to see nice, normal folks avoid it, simply leaving it to said creeps.

MIKE: According to your bio, you have a background in marketing. In what ways has that helped your writing career? Why is it that so many writers abhor the prospect of marketing themselves?

TONY: I've worked in marketing and advertising for 16 years, and owned an ad agency for eight of those years. (I merged my agency with a larger agency in 2003.) I've spent a lot of time thinking about the marketing side of writing for a couple of reasons. I love the marketing side because, as you point out, that's my background. But you know what? It's something I have to be careful about as I work on my new novels. It's easy for me to get online, blogging, chatting, emailing with other folks, and waste those few precious hours of morning writing time. I have to be disciplined to keep myself away from the marketing constantly.

I have a theory about why so many writers hate marketing, and it's this: Writing is a solitary pursuit that attracts naturally introverted people. Marketing is a community pursuit that attracts naturally extroverted people. Polar opposites. On top of that, by and large, I don't think writers feel comfortable talking about their own work. Sometimes it's too personal, sometimes it feels too much like "bragging." Writing and marketing go hand-in-hand, but most often, each requires a different kind of personality.

MIKE: I like the layout and feel of your blog; it's straight forward and easy to navigate. What are some of the more innovative web sites –- per layout and design -- you frequent?

TONY: This may sound blasphemous for a web geek, but I love sites that manage to build stickiness without the bells and whistles of flash animation or other gimmicks. That's why I love sites such as McSweeney's, the literary journal. C. Monks, a writer, always has hilarious things to say, and I just love the "phrenology" navigation of his site Utter Wonder. The Onion. Man, I LOVE the Onion--and not because of its design. Content is king.

MIKE: A common tension faced by Christians in the arts has to do with artistic integrity versus getting the Gospel out. Where do you see that balance? Is the first objective of the Christian artist to get the message out or be true to the craft?

TONY: This, frankly, is probably the most basic question for any Christian in the arts. And it's a raging debate.

However, I'll go on record saying that for any artistic endeavor--be it literature, canvas, music, film, or whatever--the art should always come first. And that's okay, because a Christian will naturally express something of God in her work.

I don't think art should ever, primarily, seek to "convert" an audience. Why? Because when it aims to do so, it's not art; it's evangelism. Evangelism is worthy and noble--it is what the Great Commission is all about, after all--but it's not art. And again, that's fine, because both serve worthy purposes. Evangelism brings hurting people to a God who loves them, and art is a personal expression--something that, for the Christian, expresses a bit about God.

MIKE: To help launch your new book, you've employed a unique online venture called the Other Side (inspired by the lead character in your book). There, people can sign up as Volunteer Book Publicists, agreeing to tell others about the book, convince their local libraries to carry it, and so on. You even send free business cards to Volunteer Publicists. How'd you come up with that idea and what kinds of response have you had?

TONY: I was inspired, in part, by Seth Godin's "Launching the Ideavirus," and in part by the open source software movement. I love the idea of communities, united by a common interest or goal, and I wanted to do all I could to develop one for my first book. So, I share a lot of "inside" information with folks who sign up as Volunteer Publicists at the Other Side--everything from the Marketing Plan to extra commentary and deleted scenes. In return, folks get a chance to share in the success of the book, since the top 100 publicists get a share of my first royalty statement. (There are other prizes, as well.)

I've been rather pleased with the response. Roughly 200 people have signed on as Volunteer Publicists--and this before the book's release. So, those people have signed on without actually reading the book for themselves, which is encouraging. Once the book actually releases and starts getting some readership, I expect membership to grow quickly.

But even if I don't get a huge volume, I do think I'm building a relationship with a core audience--a sizable "street team."

MIKE: What plans do you have for TLHines.com? Anything your readers can look forward to in the near future?

TONY: I just started podcasting, and plan to post a new podcast every Wednesday. I've been thinking about more video--maybe taping a reading or event--so I'm guessing I'll have something along those lines soon. As I hit the road for a few booksignings and such later in the year, I'd like to be able to webcast an event or two.

Above all, though, my ultimate goal is the same as it was when I launched my own web site: I want to have fun. If it's fun for me, chances are, it will be fun for a few other folks as well.

* * *
And that it is, T.L. That it is. So there you have it, kiddies. If you've not visited TLHines.com, skeedaddle over there immediately. There's no pics of him with Radiation Red toenails, but if you look closely, you'll find he bears a strange resemblance to the king.

Beached Reads

2006-06-26T06:18:00.000-07:00

It's pushing 100 degrees in my neck of the woods, which means it's Summer. And with the heat, come the annual beach reading lists. The Wichita Eagle recently interviewed Sarah Bagby to pick her brain regarding her selections for summer fare. Bagby, co-owner of Watermark Books & Cafe in Wichita, suggests there are several types of summertime readers:

There's the Guilty Pleasure type, who can't wait to pick up a romance, some chick-lit or a cheap, cheesy mystery and blame it on the heat.

There's the Big Book type, who considers summer -- and perhaps some quality vacation time -- a perfect chance to savor the 900-page biography they've been meaning to read.

And there's the Buzz Book type, who'll read just about anything if it seems like everybody's talking about it.

I'm probably more the Confused and Intimidated by Summer Reading Lists type. But whatever type of reader you are, you'll find plenty of seasonal suggestions.

Slate recently asked some well-known authors about their summer reading schedule, or Favorite Beach Books. When I think of "beach reading," I think of soft, mindless, breezy tales. You know, like half the stuff on the NY Times Bestseller List. But this year, the lists appear to be, shall we say, bulking up. Other than Joan Acocella actually recommending The Da Vinci Code, the Slate interviewees made some interesting selections. Like Michael Kinsley tackling Trollope, Thomas Mallon touting Kenneth Anger's cult classic Hollywood Babylon and Robert Ferrigno commending H.P. Lovecraft's horror classic, At the Mountains of Madness.

Overbooked adds to the eclectic list with titles like Timothy: Notes of an Abject Reptile, by Verlyn Publisher.

Exploring the natural history of a tortoise by adopting its own sensibility, Timothy is the story of a creature whose real life was observed by the 18th-century curate Gilbert White, author of The Natural history of Senborne.

and The Futurist by James P. Othmer, with this plotline:

From the hideously ugly Greenlander nymphomaniacal artist to the gay male model spy to the British corporate magnate with a taste for South Pacific virgin sacrifice rituals, The Futurist manages to be wildly entertaining and deadly serious at the same time.

Sounds, um, interesting. The Guardian offers The New Annotated Sherlock Holmes novels, edited by Leslie S Klinger, Henry James's The Turn of the Screw and Philip Roth's Everyman for "pre-death pleasure." Hmm. Nothing like a little pre-death pleasure.

The Arizona Daily Star compiles its Beach Reads into categories like Pure Escape, Travel, Education and Sports. At the top of their list: The Stolen Child by Keith Donohue. In a nutshell, it's about a changeling and the boy whose place he took in the world, which sounds right up my alley. Then it's Over the Edge: Death in Grand Canyon by Thomas M. Myers and Michael P. Ghiglieri. Described as "a comprehensive guide to slipping, sliding, falling, jumping, drowning, murdering, helicoptering and the myriad other ways people have crossed over in and around the Big Ditch." But how it ended up in the Travel section, I don't know. It's neat to see Masuk High School recommend Peace Like a River by Leif Enger in the American Literature category. And of course, NPR's summer reading list contains some oddities. Like Monsters, Dorothy and Thomas Hoobler's "story behind the horror story, documenting Mary Shelley's creation of Frankenstein" and The Book of Lost Books wherein Stuart Kelly chronicles "the vanished (and sometimes recovered) works from Jane Austen, Sylvia Plath and others."

I'm not one for reading lists, not because I don't enjoy scanning the shelves, but because they only serve to make my own lists exceedingly long. But I have acquired a stack of classics which I've begun tackling. (You'll recall I'm woefully ingnorant of "the Great Books.") Right now, I'm finishing Twain's Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, which has been a delightful read. (As a side note: I'm amazed at how many people actually read the book somewhere in school. Guess the nuns at St. Joseph's Academy kept Twain away from us impressionable students.) Anyway, my "beach reads" for 2006 -- or let's just say, Books I'll Try to Finish this Summer--looks something like this:

Great Expectations, by Charles Dickens

St. Thomas Aquinas, by G.K. Chesterton

Raising Lazarus, by T.L. Hines

Short Stories of Anton Chekhov

Okay, so I've not completely shunned all contemporary reading. I'll be receiving a pre-ordered, signed copy of Tony Hines' book sometime soon, which I'll dig into upon its arrival. Don't know how he feels being stuck between Chesterton and Chekhov though. Anyway, that's my list. Just don't hold me to it. Most of my "beach reads" usually become beached. So what about you? You've loaded the kids, the umbrella and the boogie boards, studied the lists and made your selections. What are you reading Summer '06?

My Metrosexual Moments

2006-06-22T05:26:00.000-07:00

It's whale sperm dermo-care for the metro-man. No, that's not me under the facial mask. But, according to a new survey, I'm dangerously close. Wikipedia defines "metrosexual" this way:

...the trait of an urban male of any sexual orientation who has a strong aesthetic sense and spends a great amount of time and money on his appearance and lifestyle.

British journalist Mark Simpson coined the term, which has embedded itself in our cultural lexicon. According to Simpson, metrosexuality is a shift in masculinity in which there is less avoidance of femininity and the “emergence of a segment of men who have embraced customs and attitudes once deemed the province of women.” Thus we've witnessed an emerging breed of stylish, sensitive, suave fellas.

It's also spawned another term: "retrosexual" -- a backlash to the mealy male; a throwback to the grungy, beer-guzzling chauvinist of yesteryear-- and has produced a turf war of sorts. Example A: ESPN's Are You a Metrosexual? quiz. It began with a discussion about metrosexual men in sports, and quickly veered into a parody of the "new breed."

Not one for "whale sperm dermo-care" and martinis, I took the test with bated breath.

1) How many times do you look in a mirror each day?

Once - when I wake up.
Twice - morning, evening.
Three times - a little mid-day peek.
Four times - I have uncooperative hair.
At least five - get off my case.

2) Can you leave the house without putting product in your hair?

No way
Yes, I do it all the time
Uhh, is a baseball hat a product?

3) Do you moisturize daily?

No -- lotion is for girls.
Occasionally, if I have a sunburn or something.
Always -- it's a necessity!

4) Not counting sneakers, how many pairs of shoes do you own?

One
Two
Three
Four
Gimme a second ... still counting ...

5) Have you ever tweezed, waxed or trimmed your eyebrows?

No, never
A couple times, for special occasions
Yes, frequently. I firmly believe eyebrows should be two distinct entities.

6) Have you ever shaved/waxed your legs, chest or back?

Yes, I do regular maintenance
Yes, a few times
No, never

7) How much do you spend on a haircut?

My buddy does it for nothing
The barber school down the street will do it for 5 bucks
$10-$20
$20-30
$40 or more

8) Your top drawer consists mostly of ...

Good old Hanes tighty-whities
Assorted boxer shorts
Designer boxer briefs

9) What's the last book you picked up?

A re-read of an old classic
A current best seller
Whatever magazine was lying around the bathroom

10) Going shopping is ...

A top priority
A chore performed before the holidays, her birthday, etc.
An activity I despise

11) Best way to spend a Friday night?

Watching the game over a large pizza and a six pack
Dinner at T.G.I.Friday's and ninth viewing of Lord of the Rings
Catch a hot musical, then drinks at a trendy martini bar

12) How would you describe your sense of style?

Scrubby frat boy
Comfy and casual
Refined and respectable
Trend-setting hipster

So I'm metrosexual in three areas, and I'm none too happy about it. Get this: My shoes, underwear and reading habits are pure metro baby! Maybe the most disturbing, however, is my reading habits.

How does reading the classics make a guy Metro?

Oh well, I'm not giving up Dickens and Twain for retro-male status. The important thing is that I don't moisturize daily (a fact that bugs my wife), I've never shaved/waxed my legs, chest or back (and don't plan to) and pizza and a six pack is still my meal of choice. Onward, men of yore, to the rugby match and pub, where we'll compare war wounds and swill the suds. Just don't ask to see my library card.

The Bookends of Evangelism

2006-06-19T06:45:00.000-07:00

One of the local sports talk programs, ESPN Radio 710, recently discussed religion in sports. The piece sprung out of news about NASCAR's newest sponsor: Dianetics. The Charlotte Observer reported:

Racin' fans, brace yourselves for some couch-jumping news: Scientology is ridin' shotgun.

A No. 27 red Taurus emblazoned with "DIANETICS" and featuring the volcano from the cover of L. Ron Hubbard's book has been tearing around California's Irwindale Speedway.

(No word on whether the car can fix itself; [Tom] Cruise recently bragged that wife Katie Holmes needed no anti-depressants for her post-partum depression.)

NASCAR is decidedly reluctant to comment on scientology's sponsorship. "This has generated a lot of interest the past few days," NASCAR PR man Scott Warfield tells me. Not surprisingly, he didn't want to say much more. "It's not really something we want to comment on. It's a minor league, small-team sponsorship deal."

Yes, and it's also the weirdest sponsorship since Boudreaux's Butt Paste, the diaper-rash cream that began sponsoring a Busch Series car in 2005.

The flustered broadcasters were quick to compare Scientology's ad blitz with Christian propaganda. As evidence, one of the announcers referenced a recent interview with a certain NBA star in which numerous G-bombs (God-bombs) were dropped. Every other paragraph was a "Praise the Lord" or "my Lord and Savior." The question was obvious: How is this different from the Dianetic jalopy?

On the other end, you've got this:

Busted Halo recently published a fascinating interview with Sufjan Stevens. Interestingly enough, his relationship with God had become such a big issue, his publicist began asking reporters to stop asking him about his faith.

I mean, obviously, I’m not ashamed of anything, and I make all kinds of declarations about what I believe in, but I’m very suspicious of public declarations of things because I recognize that it’s a very, very personal thing. And it’s a community thing, as well, and it’s something that I feel inclined to express within a community of believers. When you make these expressions to the public, there are all kinds of miscalculations and miscommunications, and there’s just kind of a communication problem. I just didn’t want to be a part of that dialogue at all.

Stevens' position is counter conventional thinking. Many Christians would suggest we should be looking for opportunities to speak, to "disclose" our faith, use our celebrity or success as opportunities to proclaim the Good News. Instead, Stevens suggests,

...I have a lot more to talk about musically than just my relationship with God, even though that’s evident in everything that I do, everything that I write about. It’s not something that I want to enter into a dialogue with in the press.

These are the bookends of evangelism. On one side are those who want to splash John 3:16 across every billboard and bumper sticker in sight, interject Jesus into every interview and display the biggest possible crucifix. On the other side are those who "have a lot more to talk about musically (read: artistically) than just [their] relationship with God."

Despite what some zealots would say, media blitzes, Scripture-laced interviews and blanket G-bombs are not the ideal form of evangelism. Maybe we should follow Sufjan Stephens' lead, opt out of the religion discussions, and give ourselves to the perfecting of our craft. Ultimately, the best witness for the Gospel is not emblazoning our racecars with crosses and doves, but winning the race.

Class of '06

2006-06-17T18:38:00.000-07:00

In 1976, Gerald Ford was president, the U.S. celebrated its bicen - tennial, 50 Cent was born and the Pittsburgh Steelers won Superbowl X. But more importantly, I graduated high school.

Barely.

As Fate would have it, 30 years later, my fourth and final child also graduated. Alayna Michelle Duran. Isn't she a beauty? She always promised she'd be the "best teenager ever." Well, let's just say she took a good cut at it. She maintained mid- 3's grade point average, was one of the stars of the varsity soccer squad, being selected to the county all-star team, all the while holding down a job at the local Stater Bros. And to top it off, she can text-message faster than anyone alive. Way to go girl!

Maybe, more important than all this, Alayna's got a heart for the Lord. She's fun, chatty, tough, friendly and a total scatter-brain. And we love her bunches. Congratulations Class of '06...especially Alayna!

INsites: Learning Curve

2006-06-14T20:40:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the world of Well -- Chris Well, that is. It's a wild world, indeed, filled with cops and robbers, comics and cinema, views and interviews. He calls it Learning Curve, but it's a bit more like a pop culture infobahn. Between penning his wildly popular new book, Deliver Us from Evelyn, being a contributing editor for CCM Magazine, and manning the helm of StudioWell, he managed to assemble 68 Listmania Lists at Amazon, containing such eccentricities as HAYAO MIYAZAKI: PAGE TO SCREEN, Quirky Crime Thrillers and CARY GRANT: BIGGER THAN LIFE. And if that weren't enough, he appreciates bands like Project 86 and P.O.D. Rock on, C.W! The caffeine ravaged staff at Decompose recently had a chance to camp at the Curve and toss annoying questions at the webmaster, which he returned with uncanny ease. Fasten your carseats, kiddies, and enter the world of Well.

* * *

MIKE: So how does it feel to be highlighted by Decompose? No doubt, your career will never be the same, right?

CHRIS: I have a feeling Decompose is going to put me over the top. (I turned down Letterman for this, so it better.)

MIKE: Uh, right. So what's your religious background, Chris? How'd you get to where you are spiritually?

CHRIS: Back in Illinois, I was raised going to small-to-medium-sized Methodist and Baptist churches. Here in Nashville, I am a member of Bethel World Outreach Center, a non-denominational church that is both very studious and yet has much enthusiasm for serving the Lord. Once a month, I serve in Bethel's children's church service, where, over the three Sunday morning services, we have something like 250 or more kids in Kindergarten through fifth grade.

I am also influenced by a lot of reading. At a young age, I was a voracious reader, and from elementary school on up through college grew up on C.S. Lewis and Francis Schaeffer and apologetic works such as Werner Keller's The Bible As History and Josh McDowell's More Than a Carpenter. So I have come to cherish the fact that we Christians do have a reasonable faith. Sometimes it may seem like we do have not a lot of reasonable Christians, but we do have a reasonable faith.

I always loved the fact that Thomas doubted and was rewarded with proof.

MIKE: How did Learning Curve come about? What was your initial vision for the site and how has it changed?

CHRIS: The short answer is that I started blogging as a way to draw attention to my novels. Originally, "Learning Curve" was the name of my blog at CCMMagazine.com, and the intent was to write about my new journeys as a first-novelist. But I grew tired of talking about myself, and would drift into other topics in the media and promoting other novelists.

When I started writing the media column for CCM Magazine proper, "Sightings," I changed the name of the CCM blog to match it. I relaunched "Learning Curve" as my private blog, once again with the intent of writing about my new journeys as a second-time novelist. But -- and I think you can see where this is going -- I grew tired of talking about myself and often drift into news and commentary on such topics as fiction, writing, media and TV on DVD. And promoting other novelists.

MIKE: What are you hoping to accomplish with Learning Curve? What would you like the average reader to come away with?

CHRIS: With "CCM Sightings," I cover a lot of news regarding Christians in the media. "Learning Curve" has become the companion blog, where I share media news that does not necessarily fit on the CCM site.

Ultimately, it is telling readers about stuff I like. (It's how I got started writing about Christian rock in the first place.)

The end result is that "Learning Curve" is a combination of info and advice for writers, plus breaking news regarding authors and TV shows and DVDs and mystery fiction. And, of course, those happy moments where it all intersects, such as Monk: Season Four, coming to DVD in a convenient box set this June. Or the fact that Disney's The Little Mermaid is coming to DVD in October or that Get Shorty is now being made into a Broadway musical. When I hear about stuff like this, I have to tell somebody about it, so I jump on and blog about it.

MIKE: The subtitle of your blog is a Scripture: "Do you see a man skilled in his work? He will serve before kings; he will not serve before obscure men" (Prov. 22:29). Why do you quote this verse and what does it mean to you?

CHRIS: That verse is such an excellent reminder that you have to do the work before anyone will notice you. Too many wannabe writers look for shortcuts. Don't buy the lie. Whatever it is that you want to do -- writing, music, woodcutting, whatever -- you have to work at it and become good at it before you will be successful at it.

MIKE: Your site addresses a wide range of topics -- from music to movies, novels to comics, TV, trends, analysis, and lots of stuff in between. Why should Christians be concerned with pop culture? Isn't there a danger of becoming enamored with trivia or, at worst, worldly?

CHRIS: The great men and women of the Bible demonstrate for us the importance of learning the language and the customs of the culture around us. From Esther to Daniel to Paul, they learned to speak truth in the vernacular of the culture in which they lived. And Jesus commands us to go out into the world and serve as salt and light.

MIKE: A common tension faced by Christians in the arts, has to do with artistic integrity versus getting the Gospel out. Where do you see that balance? Is the first objective of the Christian artist to get the message out or be true to the craft?

CHRIS: There is truth in beauty. If the Lord thought it worthwhile to create the beauty of nature all throughout the universe, regardless of whether any human eyes would ever see or not, then clearly the example is that there is a worthwhile intrinsic value to the art itself. To denigrate the art for the sake of a "message" is to make it less godly.

Only God can make a tree, but any idiot can chop it down and make a sign out of it.

That said, any "message" should bubble out of the artist and into the work in a natural and unforced way. I do not claim that I have attained this level of craft -- it is possible that sometimes my good intentions might leak out and interrupt the story -- but this is where I hope I am headed as a novelist.

MIKE: You're a fan of comic books and give them a lot of play on your site. Why? Many people think of comic books as juvenile entertainment. How would you rebut that?

CHRIS: Well, as Detective Charlie Pasch explains passionately in Deliver Us From Evelyn, "comics" is as valid a medium for expression as film or prose or any of the visual arts. When a comic book store employee is falsely arrested for selling adult materials to a minor, Charlie is the only one who notices that there is a problem with the report -- the utter absence of proof that any minors were involved. The entire story (and the real-life case that inspired it) was built on the outrageous viewpoint that any art form is unsuitable for communicating grown-up ideas.

Mind you, I do not condone gratuitous content or pornography -- but these should be dealt with in an honest and fair manner. To combat them with a lie is just as immoral.

MIKE: How important is a "web presence" to authors nowadays? What advice would you give to a new author regarding blogs and websites?

I am still trying to figure that out, to be honest.

The Web is the greatest source for disseminating free information in history -- no hard costs, no physical limits, no geographic borders. Someday, my postcards for Forgiving Solomon Long will be gone or boxed away in the closet. The FSL website is available to surfers around the world for free as long as I keep the site up.

One bit of advice I would give to authors is to cross-link as much as possible: When you make a permanent link from your site to someone who, say, has a review of your book, that brings more traffic to both parties. This is especially helpful if novelists partner together to send readers both directions.

The principle of "bow tie theory," so called because of the pattern on the graph, is that the more you cross-link with others, the more traffic you get in return. Those who never link to anyone else simply drop off the chart altogether.

MIKE: Your profile describes you as a novelist and magazine editor. You oversee Studio Well, Learning Curve and do reviews for CCM. You update your site often and, on top of all this, you're a married man. How can you possibly keep up with all these things and still crank out great books? What have you learned about time management that has helped you effectively juggle everything?

CHRIS: I wish I had an answer! To be frank, the load is wearing me out. I am hoping to keep the pace until some others can step in and help. (It is an enormous help that my wife is quite supportive.)

To answer specifically regarding the blogs, it helps that I can keep both going by simply passing on info and linking to other sources. If I took the time to write original essays, much as I would like to, I could never keep the schedule with my various fiction projects. As such, you can be sure I will continue to keep you updated about such earth-shattering developments as Pinky and The Brain coming to DVD.

MIKE: What plans do you have for Learning Curve? Anything your readers can look forward to in the near future?

CHRIS: More author interviews. More news and links regarding DVDs and comics and mystery fiction and other media.

And, of course, when I have news of my own, my blog readers will be first to know. There are a few different announcements I am dying to make right now, but I need to wait until the right time...

* * *

So there you have it folks, Chris Well: Mr. Learning Curve himself. High fives all around! And Chris, please do keep us up on Pinky and the Brain.

Schizo-Blog

2006-06-12T11:30:00.000-07:00

I have a love/hate relationship with my blog. And the more I learn about blogging, the more common that schizophrenia appears to be.

Technorati recently released these stats (along with some very cool pie charts) about the blogging phenomenon:

The blogosphere is doubling in size every 6 months

It is now over 60 times bigger than it was 3 years ago

Technorati now tracks over 37.3 million blogs

On average, a new weblog is created every second of every day

19.4 million bloggers (55%) are still posting 3 months after their blogs are created

Technorati tracks about 1.2 Million new blog posts each day, about 50,000 per hour

With millions of blogs clamouring for attention, making a niche for oneself is an uphill battle. I've always believed that if you have something to say and say it well, people will listen. But saying things well, with sufficient verve and originality, requires considerable thought and energy.

Which leads me to wonder if it's worth it. Do the rewards of blogging outweigh the costs?

It's a legitimate question being asked by many bloggers. This years' ACFW conference has even included a late night chat session entitled "To Blog or Not to Blog," most likely to be attended by conflicted bloggers like myself. A while back, Dave Long over at Faith in Fiction linked to this article. Freelance author, Sarah Hepola, pulled the plug on her blog and explains the reasons why.

At times, I started to feel that jokes and scenarios and turns of phrase were my capital, and that my capital was limited, and each blog entry was scattering more of it to the wind, pissing away precious dollars and cents in the form of punch lines I could never use again, not without feeling like a hack. You know: "How sad. She stole that line from her own blog."

Blogging had been the ideal run-up to a novel, but it had also become a major distraction. I would sit down to start on my novel only to come up with five different blog entries. I thought of them as a little something-something to whet the palate—because it was easier, more immediately satisfying, because I could write it, and post it, and people would say nice things about it, and I could go to bed feeling satisfied. But then I would wake feeling less than accomplished because a blog wasn't a whole story told from beginning to end. I had shelves lined with other people's prose while my best efforts were buried on a Web site somewhere, underneath a lot of blah-blah about American Idol and my kitty cat.

Like Ms. Hepola, part of me feels that blogging interferes with my actual writing, saps ideas and has became "a major distraction."

Then this comes along and makes me schizo.

Each year, the GodBlog Conference brings together influential bloggers and new media personalities to fellowship, network and discuss the explosive possibilities of this rapidly expanding medium. This years' list of speakers is quite impressive, spearheaded by Hugh Hewitt, who's been at the forefront of the blogging movement for some time. What's more, the event is reasonably priced and being held at Biola University, a hop, skip and jump from my lily pad.

I feel so Mr. Hyde-like. One minute I'm bemoaning the distraction and the next, I'm ready to spend the weekend with a bunch of blogging fools. Someone pass me the antidote.

According to Technorati, there's about 1.2 Million new blog posts each day, about 50,000 per hour. This is only one of them. It's taken me 2-3 hours to assemble and edit. Hopefully, it's written well, contains verve and originality, and has provoked thought. Nevertheless, it is 2-3 hours I will never get back, time I could've spent writing my novel or watching clouds drift across the sky or romancing my wife.

Was it worth it?

Putting on the Pounds

2006-06-09T05:33:00.000-07:00

Hitting the bookstands, somewhere in the UK, is the second-ever edition of Forgotten Worlds. It's a new, semi-professional, speculative fiction print mag, and here's the line-up for the latest edition.

The Verbpire by Fredrick Obermeyer

Drawback by Michael Cregan

A Handful Of Dust by Ruth Nestvold

Frostbyte by Lisa Mantchev

Of All The Things I've Lost by Daniel R. Robichaud

The Recliner by Marsheila Rockwell

Specified Perils by David Wright

A Message From Michael by Joseph Baneth Allen

Blackheath by Bret Tallman

Father Fayad's Curious Compatibility Projector by Mike Duran

You'll notice, I'm pulling up the rear. What you may not notice is the good company I'm with. For instance, Ruth Nestvold has had stories shortlisted for the Tiptree award and been nominated for the Sturgeon award, and Lisa Mantchev is on editorial staff with Shimmer and her stories have appeared in Strange Horizons, one of my all-time favorite sci-fi mags.

I love dabbling in speculative fiction (sci-fi, to the non-initiates), and Father Fayad's Curious Compatibility Projector fits the bill. It ranks up there as one of the most peculiar titles I've ever penned (The Jagged Hole in Ferrymoor Two being a close second). Anyway, I'm pretty stoked. It's my second story in actual print (as opposed to e-zine) and second-best paying writing gig to date. In fact, I got paid in British pounds. Cheerio!

Thanks to Forgotten Worlds and to you good folks who are rushing over there (after leaving a comment here, of course) to purchase a copy.

Antichrists Unlimited

2006-06-06T20:42:00.000-07:00

So the Beast rises again. Why not? It’s his time.

Yet it seems like it's always his time.

The early church believed that Nero was the Antichrist. But after he slit his own throat, they had to reconsider. And thus began a long line of potential candidates: Domitian, Decius, Valerian and Diocletian; after that Martin Luther, Napoleon, Hitler, Benito Mussolini. At various times, Christians suggested Jimmy Carter, Henry Kissinger or Mikhail Gorbachev was the "man of sin." And, of course, every successive Pope.

According to BushIsAntichrist.com, our current president is the Beast. The author, using detailed Hebraic charts and archaic historical tidbits, makes a powerful case. Take, for instance, this stunning revelation:

If you add up the name 'George Bush' in Hebrew letters it comes out:

G = 3 (gimel)
e = 5 (heh)
o = 70 (ayin)
r = 200 (resh)
g = 3 (gimel)
e = 5 (heh)
B = 2 (beth)
u = 70 (ayin)
s = 300 (shin)
h = 8 (cheth)
total = 666 (Antichrist)

But as compelling as the argument is, it’s not conclusive. Other presidents have fit the bill much better. According to today's L.A. Times, in an article entitled "June Doom, or Just Another Day?", Ronald Reagan was the spitting image of der Dragon.

Ronald Wilson Reagan was also suggested because each of his names had six letters. (After the president and Nancy Reagan moved into their new home in Belair, she had the address changed from 666 to 668.)

Another author goes to great lengths to prove that Prince Charles is the Antichrist. Bill Gates has been thrown into the mix as a possible aspirant to evil overlord. Even David Hasslehoff has been spotted in the lineup.

But at the top of the list is Barney.

1. Start with the given:
CUTE PURPLE DINOSAUR

2. Change all U's to V's (which is proper Latin anyway)
CVTE PVRPLE DINOSAVR

3. Extract all Roman Numerals:
C- V -- V- L -- D - I -V

4. Convert these into Arabic values:
100- 5 - 5 -50 - 500 - 1 - 5

5. Add these numbers:
666

I thought there was something weird about that effeminate hadrosaur.

But the statuette goes to this doozy. It's the Antichrist Name Calculator. Yep, those suspicions about your boss might be justified. Just type in his/her name and the Antichrist Name Calculator will compute the numeric value. (I was relieved to discover I'm only 475. But some of you...?)

So keep them eyes peeled, y'all. The signs are all around us. Purple dinosaurs, Baywatch hunks and bad remakes are only the beginning of the coming apocalypse.

Casualties of War

2006-06-04T21:30:00.000-07:00

Innocence is the first casualty of war, or so they say. The culture wars, however, exact a different toll. And oftentimes what gets lost in the clash of worldviews, is critical to the ongoing battle.

I once heard Tim Timmons relate a story about his encounter with "the enemy." At the time, Timmons was pastoring one of the largest churches in SoCal, South Coast Community Church in Irvine. He went to his tennis club for a scheduled match, but when his opponent didn't show up, another was arranged for him. The men introduced themselves and headed to their respective lines to warm up. Suddenly, the man asked, "What's your name again?" "Timmons. Tim Timmons." "The pastor?" the man asked with astonishment. Then he moved to the net, jabbing his finger into Timmons' face. "Do you know who I am?" "Should I?" Timmons retorted. The man smirked. "I'm the porno king of Orange County! What do you think of that?" Timmons could tell the man was waiting for him to pull out a big, black Bible and start thumping him with it. Instead he pointed his finger into the man's face and said, "Let me ask you something. Can you play tennis?" The man gulped and nodded. "Then get back there and let's play!" After the match (a match won by Timmons), the man approached him and asked, "What time are your services on Sunday?" The man began attending and six months later, placed faith in Christ and retired from the pornography business.

Seldom will our encounters have such a happy ending. Nevertheless, this story illustrates a vital component of cultural dialogue -- an element that Christians often overlook.

Andy Crouch, in an excellent piece entitled Furrowed Brows Inc., bemoaned the casualties of war:

Not long ago I attended a strategy session for the culture war.

Participants examined the decline of marriage, the cheapening and flattening of human sexuality into contextless pleasure, the exploitation and destruction of unborn human beings. Speeches were given. Brows were furrowed. Resolutions were made.

War, I was reminded, does terrible things to the warriors.

In the room were veterans of a conflict that has simmered for decades, with few victories for the conservative side. All were earnestly committed to the cause. And most, to be blunt, were not having a very good time.

...many lieutenants in this war ...bear countenances etched with some combination of depression and derision. It is hard to believe someone who speaks of love through clenched teeth. I would not have wanted to bring a gay friend, or even just a committed Democrat, into that room.

Scripture does not paint a rosy picture of ensuing ages. "In the last days," the apostle Paul wrote, "grievous times will come. For men will be lovers of self, lovers of money, boastful, arrogant, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without natural affection, unforgiving, slanderers, without self-control, fierce, no lovers of good, traitors, headstrong, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God" (2 Tim. 3:1-5).

Yet amidst this death and degeneracy, Christians are called to shine. “In this world ye shall have tribulations," Jesus said. "But be of good cheer; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33 KJV). Maybe the most vital component of our end times arsenal is this "good cheer."

Let's face it, saints: What we've lost in the culture wars is our joy, our cheer, our dance-until-dawn exuberance. So the world's going to hell in a handbasket. Somehow, we're called to stay above the fray; to lend a hand, to love, to laugh.

Jesus assaulted the culture, not through boycotts, angry rants or tirades, but through mirth, grace and winsome generosity. Instead of thumping the reprobates with our large print KJV's, perhaps we're called to pull out the racket and stroke a few aces. Crouch again:

...everywhere Jesus went, life blossomed. The sick were healed, lepers were touched, daughters and sons were plucked from the mouth of the grave. Jesus left behind him a trail of leaps and laughter, reunited families, and terrific wine, as well as dumbfounded synagogue leaders, uneasy monarchs, and sleepless procurators. His witness against violence, amidst a culture in rebellion against the good, was neither withdrawal nor war. It was simply life: abundant, just, generous life. And, ultimately, a willingness to let the enemies of life do their worst, confident that even death could not extinguish the abundant life of God.

Maybe it's time we reexamine our tactics, take an inventory of our casualties, put away our Bibles and pull out the tennis racket. It's not enough to have our theological ducks in a row and our evangelistic arsenal aimed and ready. In this war, a smile is quite nuclear. Because sometimes what's won is not as critical as what's lost.

Classic Dummy

2006-06-01T05:12:00.000-07:00

My mother’s almost seventy and she’s doing something she’s never done before: she’s reading this book. Actually, it’s much bigger than just reading Tolstoy’s epic saga – it’s reading the classics in general. We discussed the tome several weeks ago and her excitement was infectious. I think she was as invigorated by the story as she was by accomplishing the task.

It’s one of several streams that have converged in me.

I’ve been savoring Stephen Koch’s The Modern Library Writer’s Workshop. Early on, he confronts the common excuse about not having enough time to read.

The real culprit here is almost never your schedule. It is your boredom – your boredom with the books you think you are supposed to read. Find a book you want, a book that gives you real trembling excitement, a book that is hot in your hands, and you’ll have time galore. All serious education necessarily involves a certain amount of obligatory reading. This is how it has to be and exactly how it ought to be. Yet this essential aspect of growth does have a dangerous downside. It can darken all reading under the dull shadow of obligation. In a certain moment in your life as a writer, you should resolve to read only what matters to you. Not what people say should matter. What does. You should seek that out relentlessly, find it, and then read and read and read.

For a while, I’ve been laboring under “obligatory reading.” Somewhere along the way I embraced this common notion that writers should stay current in the genre they are writing. As a result, I’ve been slogging through books that have left me, well, bored. Please, this is not an indictment of the current market as much as an indication of my station in life. Nevertheless, Koch fingered an important dynamic at work in me.

Then there's the “Wicked Wit of the East.” Noel DeVries is one of my youthful critique partners and occasional blog commentator. While other teens are posing in the mall and posterizing their bedrooms with the latest boy bands, Noel is busy reading Trollope and Virgil. Her literary knowledge puts me to shame. She has, unintentionally, reminded me of someone I want to be when I grow up.

But I think my recent interview with Mark Bertrand is what finally pushed me over the edge. In fact, it was this quote:

My advice to readers who want to grow is simple. Put a hold on contemporary books. Put a hold on genre books. Nothing wrong with them, but set them aside for the moment and focus on a few of the big awful books everyone talks about and nobody reads, the ones you will have only encountered in school. Read them for pleasure not for class, and you'll be surprised at how different they seem. Read Dickens. Read Jane Austen. Read Henry James. Read Balzac and George Eliot and Chekhov and Oscar Wilde. Read some twentieth-century authors like Hemingway and Fitzgerald, Walker Percy and Flannery O'Connor. They'll be so different from one another it might seem like they have nothing in common, but when you return to your regular reading, you'll find that they do. They will have challenged you and stretched you. And they'll serve as good guides through the underworld of contemporary letters...

You gotta love Bertrand – one minute he’s talking about the Pixies, and the next, "the underworld of contemporary letters."

By now, my mind was made up. The contemporary stuff is going on hold in favor of "the big awful books."

I started a thread over at the Faith in Fiction Discussion Board entitled, Reading the Classics: for Dummies. Therein I exposed my ignorance and ponied up to the bar. The clan over there is quite gracious and I’ve received lots of terrific advice. As expected, there’s no consensus on where one starts such an endeavor. And there’s even disagreement on how “classic” some of the classics really are. Maybe that’s as it should be. But I like Noel’s advice. In a post to Penwrights, she said:

Mike, is there a book you've heard of all your life ... David Copperfield, War and Peace, The Brothers K ...? Start there. Start with something that stirs your interest, something you can close with satisfaction and say, "Hey, I've read that. And my life is richer, now, too!"

So, from the four corners, wending their way to my humble abode are Great Expectations, Stories of Anton Chekhov, Don Quixote, Robinson Crusoe and Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. I purchased most of them in the small Oxford World's Classics Hardcovers editions as recommended by Mark. And I got a perfect place for them. Hey, I had to start somewhere. I don’t want to wait till I’m seventy to read the great books. My hope is that, by reading the greats I will become a better writer. Either way, I’m tired of being a Classic Dummy.

Materia Obscura

2006-05-30T16:51:00.000-07:00

I stumbled into a rabbit hole and couldn't get out. Well, technically it wasn't a rabbit hole, it was a website. Yesterday evening, I spent ninety minutes reorganizing (mainly deleting) links in my Favorites file. (And my wife thinks my desk is cluttered!) I excavated scads of sites I once scanned.

Like Boing Boing, subtitled A Directory of Wonderful Things. Odd things is more like it. This place is a clearing house for the offbeat and off the wall...which puts it right up my alley. It's also ranked by Technorati as the number two most popular blog. (FYI: Out of 41.8 million sites, Decompose is ranked 85,169. So take that, Gina!)

It was there that I found BibliOdyssey. It's a collection of visual Materia Obscura, antique bookart -- medical and historical illustrations, etchings, and woodcarvings. The site had me tripping hard.

I'm a sucker for articles like Monsters and Philosophy and Mutants: On the Form, Varieties and Errors of Human Body .

At the beginning of the seventeenth century, teratology - literally, the 'science of monsters' - begins to leave the world of the medieval wonder-books behind. When Aldrovandi's Monstrorum historia was published post- humously in 1642, its mixture of the plausible (hairy people, giants, dwarfs and conjoined twins) and the fantastic (stories taken from Pliny of Cyclopes, Satyrs and Sciapodes) was already old-fashioned. Fortunio Liceti's treatise, published in 1616, is mostly about children with clearly recognisable abnormalities - as can be seen from the frontispiece where they are assembled in heraldic poses. True, they include a calf born with a man's head and, inevitably, the Monster of Ravenna. But even this most terrible of creatures is almost seraphic as it grasps the title-banner in its talons.

Man, this is the stuff I cut my adolescent imagination on. For connoisseurs of the curious, Gallery of the Grotesque Marvelous Monstrous is a must-see. Don't worry, these are only 15th/16th century sketches of fabled creatures and physical anomolies like the Bear-headed Roman Senator, Goose-headed Man, Siamese twins (Parastic ectopy) and Long-eared Phanesians. In the BibliOdyssey Archives you'll find such thrilling collections as Dutch Botanical Wall Charts, British Geographical and Trignometrical Surveying History, and Russian Folk Prints. And all this time I've been wondering where I could find Dutch Botanical Wall Charts.

Anyway, I haven't been this excited since I discovered Raquel Welch, er, watched One Million Years B.C.. Guess I'll have to clean out my Favorites file more often.

INsites: Mirathon

2006-05-28T19:41:00.000-07:00

She's the only person I'll allow to call me Mikey. Mirta Ann Shultz pilots starship Mirathon. It's one of my weekly rendezvouz along the cyber-highway, and Mir runs a tight, but definitely not uptight, ship. If you're looking for a wonderful mix of writerly wisdom, pop culture critique, stirring apologetics and good clean fun, Mirathon is a cool hangout. Her love for good literature is matched only by her passion for all things Sci-fi/Spec-Fic. In fact, that passion has propelled her to a category finalist in this year's ACFW Genesis Contest. Huzzah! If that weren't enough, her sister site, Once Upon a Novel, is a great place for discussing the nuts and bolts of the craft. No doubt, her appearance on Decompose only adds to her beam and buoyancy. According to Mir's profile, her mind is "a strange, crowded place." Well, get your crash helmet on and squeeze in...and join me in the mind of Mir.

* * *
MIKE: What’s your religious background, Mir? How’d you get to where you are spiritually?

MIR: I was raised a Roman Catholic and, from first to eighth grade, I attended St. John Chrysostom Catholic School in the South Bronx. At fifteen, after moving to Miami, I converted to the Protestant side of the faith at a non-denominational, evangelical Hispanic church. I'd been invited to "Youth Ranch." Anyone still call it that? (My Spanish was never better than those years!) At twenty-one, I started going to a Southern Baptist church, and that remained my home denomination until last year. I’m sort of in flux at the moment. There's no SBC church in my neighborhood that feels homey, so we started attending CLASH CHURCH, led by Pastor Doug Giles, a godly wild man who runs with and probably would shoot the wolves with his bow and arrows. It's conservative and Evangelical and, unfortunately, I rarely attend cause I’m a nite owl and they only have morning service. Hubby loves it. I still FEEL Southern Baptist, though. I have no idea if this is where we’ll stay put.

MIKE: How did Mirathon come about? What was your initial vision for the site and how has it changed?

MIR: It's the bandwagon syndrome, I'm afraid. One after the other, my fave online peeps started blogs. I had such fun reading them that I said, "Whoa, I want me one." I've tried to keep Mirathon to a limited number of topics: writing, Christianity, films, books, weight/health issues. I'm not much into divulging oodles of personal stuff, although I have and do. Why? Well, I don’t live a life of radical thrill and adventures, so I’d bore anyone with my daily happenings. I'm also not all that disposed to airing my icky linens. I am, however, trying to become a daily writer; so the blog’s a spiritual exercise and ministry thing. The blog reminds me to write and encourage. Plus, I love books and I'm mighty fond of my own opinions. There you have it. The introverted ego goes public.

I named it Mirathon for 1.) the obvious play on words and 2.) I didn't want to do my usual journal routine-i.e., buy a new one, post a lot at first, and fade away never to use it again. No, I wanted a long-term, slow and steady type of writing-related enterprise. A Mir Marathon. . . Mirathon.

MIKE: What’s the overall aim or objective of your blogsite? What would you like the regular reader to come away with?

MIR: Let's say it's three-fold in purpose: to promote good writing, to encourage unpublished writers such as myself to keep running the race and learning the craft, and to glorify God by promoting the gospel and matters of the faith. It might even be four-fold: I'd also like to motivate myself to lose weight, as shallow as that sounds, by making public resolutions. But that's way, way back of the line in terms of importance, although my doctor might disagree.

MIKE: Your site addresses a wide range of topics -- from politics to religion, film to writing, and lots of stuff in between. What kinds of issues and news stories are you trying to highlight? What's the common thread that runs through all these posts?

MIR: There really are two common threads that are twined together: Christianity is one, the literary arts is the other.

The Christianity thread has led me to post on persecuted Christians, consumerism at Christmas, the need for donating to victims of disasters, and Islam’s threat to Christians globally. The literary arts thread includes book reviews, interviews with authors, and comments on the craft of writing.

If you notice, I try to focus on novels that have a spiritual component. I want to help new writers in the CBA, and I want to help unpublished writers aiming for the CBA, or who target the ABA but whose stories have a spiritual component.

I am especially keen on getting the word out on Christian SF/F. It should be a viable genre in the CBA , and Christians should clamor for it and support it. But we don’t. And that boggles my mind. I mean, we're the people who believe the sea parted so that the host of Israelites could stroll through to the other side, that a man who cut his hair lost his super-strength, that bread and fish can multiply by supernatural means, that giants roamed the world once, that donkeys and serpents can speak on occasion, that chariots of fire are at God's disposal, that a shade tree can grow at a moment's notice for and die just as promptly to teach a grumpy prophet a lesson, and that a man who walked on water and made the wind obey him also came back from the dead.

The fact that fantastic fiction seems dead in the CBA irks me no end. We're a natural citizenry for that country of the wondrous and amazing.

I believe Christians should be interested in the arts and promote beauty in every sphere of entertainment and communication. I love movies, books, magazines, painting, sculpture, and even the much-maligned TV. I value the rich history of the church in promoting the arts and sciences. I want us to be poetry-spouting and story-telling and movie-producing "roaring lambs." The blog is a way to remind myself to be one in that herd, and to encourage others to roar away with beauty in any sphere of the arts God calls them to, but particularly those that require word artists.

When I get blog comments or emails that tell me I’ve been helpful or encouraging, I feel fabulous. And I've actually prayed that some non-believers get a dose of truth at my site, and that it moves them toward Jesus. To this end, I occasionally post a gospel-related message. One post was actually THE gospel message. I'm not ashamed of the gospel, babe.

My mission statement would likely sound like this: To help myself and my blog readers become better writers, to promote good Christian fiction, and to promote the reality, importance, and beauty of Christianity—all with Miratude.

MIKE: I especially enjoyed a recent (March 10) entry about SciFi and Fantasy titles. You seem to have a passion for, and knowledge of, the field. How’d you get interested in SF/F literature? What are some of your personal favorite titles? And why do you think the SF/F genres are not represented more in the CBA?

MIR: I don't read as much as I used to--in general, not just SF/F. My eyes grow increasingly lousy. My ability to focus on something for long periods is diminishing. I attribute this to various health issues. Bah and humbug.

However, yes, I love speculative fiction--that general term that encompasses fantasy, science fiction, and allegory. I started reading SF/F as a teenager. My first three novels were STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND by Heinlein, BRAVE NEW WORLD, by Huxley, and DUNE by Herbert.

My absolute fave novel is science fiction: DUNE. It's got that whole super-powered Messiah thing that a Christian immediately goes for. It has a fully realized other world that reflects issues of our own world. The spice as oil. The Fremen as Arab desert dwellers. The Empire as Western Power nations. Ecological issues. That only goes so far, naturally, but you can see it. The magnificently imagined cultures and systems enthrall me: the religious order, with its highly trained women; the mutated navigators; the desert warriors, hoarding and valuing water above all else; the prophecies and music and chants. I find the sum of it a marvel and utterly irresistible.

I also recommend MORE THAN HUMAN, also science fiction, for the beauty of the prose and the cool idea of a composite being--a gestalt being-- made up of superhuman misfits. From the fantasy side, I loved the retelling of Sleeping Beauty called SPINDLE'S END, and I like the dark fantasies of Tanith Lee, especially her Flat Earth series. It's not for the easily offended Christian reader, though. NEVERWHERE is one of my all-time faves, a modern re-imagination of ALICE IN
WONDERLAND. Dark and funny, both.

I actually prefer short fiction to novels in SF/F. Theodore Sturgeon, Tanith Lee, Connie Willis (whose short works are a must for anyone who wants to see how well they can be told), Harlan Ellison (a hugely gifted stylist), Neil Gaiman, Gene Wolfe, Ted Chiang, Jane Yolen, James Tiptree, Jr (Alice Sheldon). All those are worth reading. I go for the lyrical or the humorous or the exquisitely crafted.

Now, why isn't it better represented in the CBA? I would like to know myself.

As I said earlier, we're a smart people, Christians. We're people who value reading, we're men and women of the Book and of metaphor and of the fantastic. We believe in things the materialist doesn't. We're used to projecting our imagination into the future. (Left Behind sold madly doing that in a heavily theological mode.) We're used to expecting the fabulous and inexplicable. Do we believe worshippers can get gold fillings in their teeth, spontaneously? We may scoff, but some of us believe. (Um, not me.) But it's not an incident many Christians would rule out, anymore than we rule out angelic intervention or a total disappearance of a tumor. We go to church and expect the blind to see and deaf to hear and lame to walk, even if we only hold such faith gently, hesitatingly, or at the backs of our minds. I believe God can rip open the sky and make it rain fire. I believe a man can sit in his feces, possessed of multiple demons. And I believe a word from a holy believer can cast out that horde and put the man back in his right mind. Coins can appear in the mouth of a fish when taxes come due. (I wouldn’t mind this happening more often after this year’s tax bill.)

So, why does the fabulous and the extrapolative lose ground in the CBA at a time when a young wizard boy sells a gazillion copies of his tales to the global market, with many of those copies bought by Christians?

First, I think there's a suspicion of things that smack of occultism. Instead of seeing metaphors in wizards and dragons, what is seen is the prohibited. I disagree with some very fine people in this matter. I don't believe that reading a novel with a sorcerer is a violation of a commandment anymore than I believe that reading a story about a serial killer makes you an accomplice to homicide. However, this mindset is part of the problem.

Secondly, science fiction requires some brainwork to enjoy. That's not an elitist statement. Unlike some genres that are cozy, safe, easy and do not require anything other than a basic reading skill and a willingness to feel; a sci-fi novel, especially a hard sci-fi novel, forces you to pay attention, to go with some complex extrapolations, and to orient yourself rather deftly and swiftly to terms that are unfamiliar and often confusing.

When I first read DUNE, I spent a lot of time flipping back to the glossary. (A fellow blogger says it impeded her reading comprehension and pleasure to do this with DUNE.) I like that learning curve. It's cumbersome, sometimes, but it's also mentally rewarding. I bet it staves off Alzheimers!

Thirdly, some people just don't "get it." They can't suspend disbelief to that extent. They don't have the innate ability to turn off the need to be grounded in the here and now. When I was in college, I took a couple of courses on 19th century English novels. In one, we read THE TIME MACHINE by Wells. The young student who sat behind me gave me a blank look after one class. "But it's not possible," she tells me. “Time travel can't happen,” she insists. "It's not real." Now, I tried to explain, as patiently as possible given my shock at this sort of response, that it was FICTION, it was MAKE BELIEVE, and the author was just hypothesizing what would happen if someone could travel forward in time. "But there aren't any Morlocks. It couldn't happen. It's not real." You can't argue with that mindset. Some people only want to read about what's real.

And yet, on the pro side: We grew up with fairy tales. That's fantasy. And SF/F films and TV shows have a track record of doing pretty well and raking in big bucks. It's easy to understand SF/F when it's visual. It's harder to get into it when it's written.

I hope we get a bunch of editors into the CBA who love the genre and push for it. Steve Laube was such an editor once, and Jeff Gerke is one still. We need more. I hope we get marketers savvy in promoting this genre so that Christians who’ve bought Rowling or aLackey or Bradbury will buy a CBA story of that kind. They need to connect the dots for Christians who read Dekker and Peretti and Jenkins, so that they see the natural segue from spiritual thriller or end-time suspense to other types of speculative fiction that has a similar feel and give a comparative reading experience. SF/F is a large playground. Lots of men read science fiction; lots of women read fantasy; and lots of young people enjoy this genre, especially after the Harry Potter explosion. Christians buy Narnia and Tolkien without fear. It's time they opened their eyes to newer tales of wonder.

MIKE: Another recent post of yours, Before You Enter That Fiction Contest: Mir's Non-Comprehensive Tour of Trouble Spot Tip-Offs (April 6), was a practical tool for writers. Tell me a little bit about your writing experience. Why are you so interested in resourcing writers? What are some of your favorite writing books and links?

MIR: I'm interested because I'm have been for years a dabbler in writing. I had one spurt of serious writing in 2002, during which I published two stories in a teeny-tiny periodical and also won or placed in contests. But my mom got ill, I lost steam, and I stopped creating. Health problems also affect focus, sadly.

After the extended depression caused by my mom's decline and death finally lifted in mid-2005, I eased back into it. I found communities online, and I started reading and learning again. And I began writing in earnest again, SF/F this time, not romance. Shirlee McCoy, a terrific lady and writer for Steeple Hill’s suspense line, offered to mentor me. I needed to be accountable to someone who’d kick my hiney verbally if I didn’t produce. (I'm so hypercritical and so neurotic, I freeze with fear, literally and can't write. I think it stinks. I delete like mad. Then I go weeks without writing. This is not a good system for anyone who wants to write professionally, ya know?) We had email woes. I didn't want to take it to the phone, and so that faded. But the fact that this published author cared to take the time meant so much to me. That she saw potential and gave positive feedback calmed my neuroses some.

I wrote stories first. I didn't get anywhere with Faith in Fiction's contest, but I won THE SWORD REVIEW's contest. I totally revised the plot and opening of my apocalyptic urban fantasy novel, and those chapters landed mea finalist spot in the ACFW's Genesis Contest.

That sort of soothes the Mir-critical-beast a bit.

I am now in a newly-formed critique group. I need it for accountability and feedback. If I can knock the fears down and get on a regular routine, I really think I could produce good stuff. Pray for me, would you?

Because I'm struggling and learning, I want to share whatever useful tips I’ve gathered. Plus, my spiritual gift is teaching. (I've been told exhortation, too, but I'm not all that clear on what the heck that is!) I can't help but teach, in almost any context. It's not always welcome. Hah.

Some of my fave writing books are listed on http://onceuponanovel.blogspot.com. Some of my fave writing links are in the sidebars and posts at Mirathon and Once Upon a Novel, particularly the post full of links for writers.

To name a few:

Stein on Writing (Stein)
Techniques of the Selling Writer (Swain)
Goal, Motivation, & Conflict (Dixon)
How To Tell A Story (Provost)
Writing Fiction (Burroway)
The Handbook of Novel Writing (Writer's Digest)
Story Architect (Schmidt)
The Writer’s Journey (Vogler)
Self-Editing for Fiction Writers (King/Browne)
Hooking the Reader (Rendell-Smock)
And the introduction in Science Fiction 101 (Silverberg)

MIKE: Your site addresses the intersection of faith and the arts. A common tension faced by Christians in the arts, has to do with artistic integrity versus getting the Gospel out. Where do you see that balance? Is the first objective of the Christian artist to get the message out or be true to the craft?

MIR: The first objective of the Christian is to love God, which leads to obedience, which leads to getting the gospel out and edifying other believers. Making disciples is a commandment. The first objective of an artist, however, is to create things that have beauty and power and truth and, I would add, an individual vision of what matters. A writer has to do that with words, a fiction writer with stories. If the gospel fits into the creative vision without diluting the power or beauty or making it less an individual vision, then go for it. Amen! If the creative endeavor--the story, the poem, the novel, the screenplay—would be damaged by the overt insertion of the gospel, if the spiritual aspects cripple the structure or the beauty or the power, then you can't. Period.

If I want to include a spiritual truth, then I will. If my character needs to be a holy roller, they'll be that. But I don't think I should ditch the quest for a good story or a GREAT story--I'm not there, but, hey, one can dream--because I want to stick the gospel and half a dozen verses in a story.

I do believe that committed Christians can't leave out spiritual truth, some kind of spiritual truth, from whatever they create, anymore than I can go through a day and not think of God. It's not possible. I can't turn off whatever is in me that wakes up conscious of God and goes to bed conscious of God. I write as I live, conscious of God.

MIKE: One of my favorite parts of your site is the, For Your Brain and Soul links. You’re obviously interested in apologetics and evangelism (and we share an appreciation for Peter Kreeft’s stuff). When did you become interested in apologetics and how does it inform your fiction? What are some of your favorite books on evangelism and defending the faith?

MIR: I am a Rational. Do you know about that? It's that personality tests, Myers-Briggs. Anyway, hubby and I are both INTJs, rationals. Even in grade school, my nickname was “The Brain” or “The Computer.” I’m a rusty one now. All that as preface to this: For me to embrace Christianity, my rational faculties had to accept that the faith was reasonable, and not just this emotional leap. (I'm the gal who had a list of what I wanted in a husband and found a pretty perfect match.)

Since my conversion at fifteen, I've been reading books on apologetics. My first ones were some creationist books that my little church sold after service. Then I discovered Josh McDowell's stuff and Francis Shaeffer’s writings. As I got older, I read more of the creationist works as well as non-Protestant apologists, like Kreeft. It wasn't until I was in my thirties that I read parts of the Summa (Aquinas) and the early arguments against heresies by the Church Fathers. (The internet facilitates finding this stuff.) I eventually bought tapes and DVDs by Greg Koukl, William Lane Craig, Gary Habermas, Robert Bowman, Hugh Ross, Francis Beckwith, Norman Geisler, R.C. Sproul, and J.P. Moreland, whose SCALING THE SECULAR CITY was one of those pivotal books for me. I actually felt my brain cells and my faith fatten up reading that difficult book.

I recommend REASONABLE FAITH and anything by Francis Beckwith, Wm Lane Craig, and Moreland. I think you value as I do the APOLOGETICS HANDBOOK by Kreeft and Tacelli. Norman Geisler’s encyclopedia of apologetics is way cool. Philip Johnson's books that argue against the philosophy of materialism/Darwinism are wonderful. I'm an old earther, btw, and a big science fan. I don't believe Earth is mere handful of millennia in age. I don't believe that the opening of Genesis is a scientific play-by-play, but it’s still right. I do believe we're created by God, different from animals in key ways that PETA would disavow, and that evolution hasn't proven its case by a long shot.

MIKE: What plans do you have for Mirathon? Anything your readers can look forward to in the near future?

More reviews. I'm known for giving honest, critical reviews. I don't just gush to make an author feel good. I'd like to up my reading time, despite the aging eyes. I’ve just this month started doing book giveaways. The books will go out next week. If anyone wants to win a Christian science fiction trilogy by Kathy Tyers or the Donald Maass workbook companion to his Writing The Breakout Novel, drop by. It’s not too late.

I'd also like to add a more personal component to my blog, because right now I’m not a big self-revelator. I want to display more of ME, warts and all. I have lots of warts, sadly, and only one is on the outside. Mike, you pose tough questions, bro. Thanks for getting my brain all warmed up. I should go write now.

* * *
Awesome stuff, Mir! I hereby appoint you Christian Sci-Fi spokesperson. Starship Mirathon is now boarding, people.

The Next Step

2006-05-25T05:13:00.000-07:00

Lotsa prayer, sleepless nights, reams of paper and oodles of overtime. That's what got me here. I rushed home from work yesterday evening -- unashamedly unconcerned about the winner of American Idol -- fired up the AMD, perched a dinner salad on the edge of my desk and consumed it as I registered for the American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) annual conference. And I couldn't help thinking about what it took to get here...

It's said, "The journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step." Well, I've had quite a few "first steps" over the last two years. Somewhere along the way, after leaving the ministry and spending five or six years in the construction field, that nagging sense of "calling" became undeniable. I was pretty sure God didn't want me back in the ministry. But the gifts and talents sitting in my spiritual cupboard, growing rusty and dusty, haunted me.

I was a reader, and occasionally a writer. But my writing was scattered and unfocused. Got stuff published in the editorial pages, wrote skits, developed discipleship curriculum and ranted to whomever would listen. I'd compiled quotes and anecdotes for the ministry, and continued working on those. At the time, I was leading Bible study classes, training small group leaders, doing the "guest preacher" thing at various churches and... drifting.

Was this all God had for me?

It was the Worldview/Westbow Fiction Contest that roused me from the malaise.

I was subscribed to World Magazine and when they announced the short story contest, something stirred in me. "I can do this," I said. And so I did it.

The story did not make the finalist's cut, but I was pleased with it. I would get a huge boost however, when I discovered it was one of several entries posted online. (It later morphed into Someone in the Circle, officially became my first work of fiction ever published, and went on to be selected for Infuze Mag's Best of 2005 Short Stories and Poetry).

That's when I received an e-mail from some dude named Maxx.

He'd seen my story posted at the World blog, liked it, and asked if I'd be interested in joining an online critique group. Huh? A what? I didn't know squat about critique groups, and my wife cautioned me about the number of perverts trolling the internet. (Fact is, she still didn't know what to think about this "writing phase" of my life.) But Maxx wasn't a pervert.

The critique group was Penwrights, and joining it -- way back in October '04 -- was one of the most important steps in my writing journey.

It's moderated by three nuns. Well, they're not really nuns (in fact, at times, they're almost devilish). Ane, Jessica and Gina took turns cracking my knuckles and giving me atta-boys. They endured sloppy writing, undisciplined POV, an avalanche of adverbs and my penchant for riling up peace-loving Penwrights. But the group was like water to my weary soul. Noel and Eunice, Janet and Kelly, Reni and Heather, Yvonne and Terri, Michelle and Maxx -- and many others -- have helped me unpack my dusty cupboard of gifts.

With their unbending encouragement, I started my novel, What Faith Awakes, in May '05. It was a huge step... but one I completed early this year. Yeah, in light of everything else, it's a mere hill. But I climbed it. Currently, I have an agent excited about me and my story (no, she's not from the state mental hospital!), and I've started a second book. A semi-pro sci-fi mag has picked up one of my shorts and others are in the pipe.

And yesterday evening I took another step in the journey.

It's a done deal -- plane fare, conference, hotel, all paid for. Lord willing, September 21st I'll be stepping onto Texas tarmac with my camera, laptop, iPod, case of Trident... and some crazy dreams. Hopefully, I'll meet some of you, my cyber-friends (see previous post) there, and we shall exchange awkward moments ("My, you look much heavier than your profile pic") and then proceed to laughter, tears, encouragement and fond farewells.

Yes, it's been a long journey. But it's only beginning. Now it's just a matter of taking the next step.

e-Fellowship

2006-05-23T05:40:00.000-07:00

I've made loads of new friends since I started blogging... even though I've never actually met a single one of them. The internet has shaped how we do relationships nowadays. And how we do church.

But the question remains: Is this a good thing?

Last week, Mary Yerke linked to an interesting article entitled We Know More Than Our Pastors: Why Bloggers are the Vanguard of the Participatory Church. The author asserts that bloggers are entirely redefining the Church.

I believe that our network of blogs exceeds the reach of any single pastor. To be clear, no one thinks they are personally smarter or more ‘called’ than any pastor. However, as a network, we know more than our pastors. In this, we are not alone. Thousands of bloggers circumvent established hierarchies and relate unmediated with one another. We are part of a participatory phenomenon that is impacting mass media, technology, education, entertainment, politics, journalism and business.

Emboldened by this participatory movement and empowered by easy-to-use technology, we are starting to expect different things from our churches, pastors, and denominations. We look forward to something more profound from our churches than vision casting, finding our spiritual gifts, mall-like facilities, coffee bars and candles. We expect to participate; we expect to co-create the church.

...Blogging is creating a robust and growing network of participators. We are not just a new kind of Christian or an "emerging church" fad. We are a new kind of preacher, theologian, pundit, apologist and church-goer. We exist outside (and inside) church hierarchies. The phenomenon of blogging is transforming our expectations of church. Soon this meme -- the product of our online spiritual formation -- will emerge from our cyber church and transform the existing church.

I believe that bloggers represent a vanguard that is co-creating a new kind of participatory church.

After the Dan Rather flap, few would question the assertion that blogging is a legitimate societal force. No doubt, "The phenomenon of blogging is transforming our expectations of church." Still, I wonder if these shifting dynamics in the Body of Christ are a good thing.

As much as our society looks for shortcuts to everything, there is no quick way to make disciples. Heck, it took the Son of God three years of 24/7 interaction with those twelve goofballs to make a dent. And in the end, they still ran away and denied Him. The very essence of disciple-making is repetitive physical/spiritual/social interaction. Blogging may be transforming the existing church, but it can never replace the hands-on, eye to eye, communal nature of Christian Fellowship. The Cyber Church is but a shadow of the real thing.

While blogging gives us a forum for ideas and interaction, it strips relationships of one essential component – physical proximity. It’s one thing to sit in front of a flat screen monitor, plucking out witty barbs and profound punditry, and another to look someone in the eyes, hear the tone of their voice, observe their demeanor and embrace them. No Emoticons can substitute for the "tender mess" that is human relationship.

I recall hearing some writer folks share, on a popular Discussion Board, about the anti-climactic nature of their first meeting. They’d been so used to zinging quips and eloquently expounding opinions from their keyboards, that when they actually met face to face, the interaction was awkward and stilted. Someone later joked (online, of course), that if they'd brought their laptops, sat around the table and "typed" the "discussion," it would have been more lively.

Bloggers can become so used to "relating" to words on a page, that a real living, breathing relationship strips them of an essential power: time to think, ponder, compose themselves, delete and add words for just the right "impression." Some can become so skilled at articulating ideas and crafting a "web identity," that a physical encounter with said webmaster often proves to be, well, a let-down.

I’m the first one to bag on organized religion and its obvious deficiencies. But one of the things the electronic revolution can never duplicate is an in-depth context for relationships. We may be "the vanguard that is co-creating a new kind of participatory church," but the very womb that cyber church gestates in is also producing a "new kind" of believer -- one that is often relationally shallow and socially inept.

Yeah, I've made loads of new friends since I started blogging. But until I can give you a handshake, a hug or a high-five, hear your voice quaver and see your eyes gleam, I will somehow feel incomplete...like we've only had e-fellowship.

Ignorance is Bucks

2006-05-19T05:30:00.000-07:00

It's been said that sheep are so dumb they'll follow each other, single file, off a cliff. Well, that's what I expect to happen today as the DaVinci Code opens nationwide. The sound you'll hear this weekend will not only be the sound of turnstiles ticking like windmills, but dumb sheep bleating their way over the latest cliff.

It's been somewhat comforting (in a vindictive sense) to see the negative reviews pouring in. And then some.

No, I'm not gonna organize a picket or participate in any boycotts. Christianity has endured far greater persecution and controversy than some book or movie can generate. Decrees, Bible burnings, torture and martyrdom have watered our roots. As Phil Cooke put it:

But the fact is, the Christian faith has transformed Western Civilization. It defeated the Roman empire, created an atmosphere of learning and science throughout Europe, impacted our art, music, and literature. When William Tyndale translated the Bible into English in the 1500's, it created an explosion of literacy that transformed the West. We often forget that Dr. Martin Luther King (a pastor) was driven by his Christian faith. So I have trouble believing a single book or movie will bring down the most important force for good for the last 2,000 years. The dogs may bark, but the train keeps on rolling.

Christians get too easily swayed and riled up about this kind of stuff. And I think I know why. This article in Wednesday's L.A. Times, entitled "Vatican Officials Grappling with Da Vinci Code," touches upon something I've been feeling for a long time

Father John Wauck, an American priest with the Opus Dei prelature, said "The Da Vinci Code" was laughable from start to finish, a comedy of errors that "defies serious reading." But the impact of the story is something else altogether. Wauck believes that the popular appeal of the book underscores the failure of the organized church to adequately educate its followers...

"The cultural phenomenon is very important and must be taken seriously," Wauck said. "It shows our ignorance over art, history, theology, scripture... and that's not Dan Brown's fault, that's our fault, the fault of the church, of priests and parents who aren't teaching the truth."

I think Father Wauck makes a great point. One of the reason films and books like the DaVinci Code create such a big ripple in the Church is because so many professing Christians are so ignorant and uninformed about their beliefs. Or as Wauck puts it "...the popular appeal of the book underscores the failure of the organized church to adequately educate its followers."

I have long felt that the average, Bible-believing Christian is ill-prepared to defend his or her beliefs in the marketplace of ideas. It's bumper sticker theology for many: "God said it, I believe it, that settles it." Of course, ask them how they know God said it, and they'll probably shrug or retreat into less than convincing arguments of a more personal nature. Let's face it: The American Church is ignorant about "art, history, theology, scripture … and that's not Dan Brown's fault, that's our fault." Perhaps if we were more studious, more grounded in the basic tenets of the faith and the historical authenticity of the biblical documents, we'd be less flustered when critics roll out the next "earth-shattering news" or "debunking" of Christianity. Until then, we'd might as well join the flock in its brigade over yonder cliff.

Professional Weaker Brothers - #3

2006-05-17T05:50:00.000-07:00

A young boy stood at a train station trying to sell a bag of juicy oranges. He walked around yelling, "Oranges! Juicy oranges for 25 cents!" And he did this for an hour without selling a single orange. Finally, he gave up. He sat down on a bench and, in frustration, grabbed an orange and started peeling it. The citrus smell filled the air. Then he ripped that orange open and the juice began to run all over his hands. As he took a bite, the juice ran down his face, onto his shirt, and then his stomach. And in less than a half hour, he sold his entire bag of oranges.

I wonder if the Church is more worried about selling oranges or eating them? Funny thing is, if we enjoyed more of what we're trying to "sell," we'd probably sell more of it.

Aldrich's book suggests that there are those in the Church on a mission to stifle citrus sales. They obsess over the juice on the ground, the zest in the air, the possible unsanitary conditions and the absence of a sales permit. They'd rather shut this thing down than see others enjoying unapproved oranges.

These are the Professional Weaker Brothers. They make it their job to enforce tradition, impose personal preferences, and monitor and manipulate the conduct of others. Their lists are long, and vary from person to person. But they usually begin, "Thou shalt not..."

I started this brief series by mentioning my use of the word "hell" in a story I wrote. My critique partners suggested I change the word becuase religious publishers frown upon cursing. The CBA (Christian Booksellers of America) has its own "language list," which is a topic of vigorous discussion among many Christian authors. But while I appreciate the concerns about cursing, I believe the CBA's list goes too far. Not only can't an author say hell or damn, she must refrain from fart, pee, poop, crap and fa shizzle my nizzle. Now I can understand cutting the f-word, but fart?

Which leads me to this question: Are these strictures the result of a genuine concern for weaker brothers, or a case of legalism?

This wouldn't be the first time a large religious body imposed an unrealistic set of rules upon the proletariat. Of course, the CBA is far from the worst offender. I once spoke to a man whose church routinely inspected the length of its male members' hair and the distance of their women's hemline below the knee. (After all, you'd hate to discover you were damned to hell for an inch of skirt.) The CBA's language list seems trivial in relation to some of the absurdities issued in the name of Christ. But my question is: When did these rules ever get anyone closer to God?

Yes, stumbling weaker believers is a serious sin. Real serious. However, some brothers have made a profession out of being "offended." The maturing believer is one who can discern the professional weaker brother from the susceptible weaker brother, accept those who choose to refrain from controversial matters and grant grace to those who participate. It is not my job to tell believers what kind of music they can listen to, what clothing is appropriate and if the f-word (fart, that is), is tolerable on ocassion. Of course, there are times to address all these things. But last I checked, no one appointed me to judge the world of sin, righteousness and judgement.

It is my job to eat oranges and let the juice cascade down my face.

Dear saints, if we are to build bridges to the unsaved, it is imperative that we drop our moral measuring sticks. Perhaps more people would "taste and see that the Lord is good," once the Lord's people did. The Church is far too sour. It's when the juice is dripping down our faces and tangy citrus spikes the air, that we're doing our job. Sure, there'll always be Pharisees hovering over us, wagging their fingers, condemning the awful mess. When that happens, let me suggest you do one thing -- keep on eating.

Legomen

2006-05-17T05:20:00.000-07:00

So they confi- scated my camera at the P.O.D. concert. Oh well, I got it back after a sweaty, stage-diving, mosh-pitting four hours, and sat down with the Legoman at midnight outside the House of Blues. So which one of us looks more plastic?

Professional Weaker Brothers - #2

2006-05-11T06:05:00.000-07:00

Offending and stumbling other believers is a serious sin. Says who?

He [Jesus] said to His disciples, "It is inevitable that stumbling blocks come, but woe to him through whom they come! It would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck and he were thrown into the sea, than that he would cause one of these little ones to stumble." (Luke 17:1-2 NASV)

Jesus' words are haunting, aren't they? No doubt, we've all stumbled our share of "little ones." Lord, have mercy on us. And even though the very heartbeat of Christianity is liberty, we are cautioned concerning its employment:

Be careful, however, that the exercise of your freedom does not become a stumbling block to the weak. (I Cor. 8:9 NIV)

So on one hand, we are not bound by rigid external laws; there is freedom to dance, play cards, enjoy a cigar, get our noses pierced and our navels tattooed. But what happens when our freedom stumbles -- offends, hurts, confuses -- the weak?

This is the tightrope a genuine, grace-filled, unbound believer must traipse.

I've been a Christian for 26 years, 11 of which were spent in the ministry. However, I've come to believe that, in many cases, older, seemingly mature Christians are far more easily offended than are young Christians. This first hit home when a couple in my church announced they were leaving. Was it because I was teaching false doctrine, pilfering money or disseminating Kool-aid? Nope. They discovered I viewed, and spoke highly of, a certain R-rated movie. And everyone knows, R-rated movies are off-limits to Christians.

Yikes! Perhaps I was getting fitted for a millstone. Were these the "little ones" Jesus spoke about? Hmm. Problem was, they'd been believers longer than me.

Joe Aldrich, in his terrific book Lifestyle Evangelism, helped me get a handle on this apparent phenomenom.

When it comes to controversial issues -- watching R-rated movies, smoking, drinking alcoholic beverages, getting tattoos, gambling, certain styles of dress -- Aldrich describes four main types of Christian:

1. Professional Weaker Brother
2. Susceptible Weaker Brother
3. Nonparticipating Mature Brother
4. Participating Mature Brother

A Professional Weaker Brother is a Christian who has a strong objection to something and believes others should share that objection. In other words, since drinking is wrong for him, it is wrong for everyone. He tends to be critical of those who disagree, legalistic and manipulative, and eventually will separate himself from his "sinful" bretheren. A Susceptible Weaker Brother is sensitive to a particular sin, but understands that it may not be a sin for every Christian. However, due to naiveté or lack of discipline, he often vacillates, succumbs to his weakness and struggles with a guilt-free conscience. A Nonparticipating Mature Brother knows what's sin for him and does not participate in it. Furthermore, he does not project his convictions upon others but respects individual parameters of freedom and demonstrates grace to those who differ. Finally, a Participating Mature Brother believes he has the freedom to indulge in a particular area that could be considered sin to another. Nevertheless, he is cautious to not cast a stumbling block before his weaker brothers, nor to abuse his liberty. However, in the end, his participating freedom has the potential to hinder or harm the genuine weaker saint.

D. Martyn-Lloyd Jones, one of my heroes of the faith, a prolific Welsh preacher who once preached a twelve year series on the book of Romans (no kidding!), suggested that grace, when it is properly preached, will always be misunderstood. I believe that most of the confusion, hurt, manipulation, guilt and disunity that surrounds these controversial issues, has to do with a misunderstanding of grace -- what it looks like to get it, and what it looks like to give it.

On one extreme are those who abuse grace and use their liberty as a license for sin, stumbling weaker bretheren and bringing themselves into bondage. On the other extreme are those who reject grace in favor of a legalistic code of conduct; they sit in judgement of others, all the while blinded by the plank in their own eye. And that's the tightrope: How do we live in a Spirit of Freedom, unhindered by man-made, legalistic codes, but still remain sensitive and respectful of genuine weaker brothers?

I'll finish these thoughts next post. But let me ask: Do you see yourself in one of these four saints? Perhaps you're the Professional Weaker Brother, sitting in judgement of another's freedom. Or maybe you're the Participating Mature Brother, brandishing tats, swilling beer and enjoying those R-rated flicks. If so, which side of the tether do you lean, toward the oppressor or the oppressed?

Professional Weaker Brothers - #1

2006-05-09T06:16:00.000-07:00

A preacher took the pulpit, scanned the congre - gation, and said, "The world is going to hell and most of you don't give a damn." The crowd gasped, but the minister continued unfazed. "And what's worse, most of you are more upset that I just said 'damn,' than that people are going to hell."

Christians get rankled about lotsa stuff, but not all of our rankling is worthwhile. Sometimes we're guilty of straining at gnats and swallowing camels.

Not long ago, I submitted a short story to one of my writer's loops. This was the opening line:

How in the hell do you drown in the desert?

That's a decent opening line, don't you think? Kind of intriguing. The story was being entered in theFaith in Fiction contest. Well, I subbed it to the group and, immediately, some people pointed out the dreaded curse word. In fact, a couple folks went so far as to say it would incur immediate disqualification. Hmm. Maybe I could navigate some ways around it. So I submitted these four alternatives:

1.) How in the heck do you drown in the desert?
2.) How in the world do you drown in the desert?
3.) How in God's name do you drown in the desert?
4.) How do you drown in the desert?

The votes poured in. Okay, six or seven people responded. Someone offered tarnation, another How in God's green earth. One person suggested, How in blazes do you drown in the desert and another added blue blazes. That was a little different. I began contemplating the blazes options, when someone noted that blazes and blue blazes actually meant hell and should be avoided; furthermore, How in God's name was taking the Lord's name in vain. At this stage, holy hangnail seemed like a viable option. After more gnat-straining, my friend Ane Mulligan finally settled the matter. She said, "Go with your gut."

So I stayed with my original line... hell and all.

The story was a finalist. Apparently, Dave Long, the big cheese at FiF, wasn't that concerned about the four-letter word. Wish I could say that for everyone.

Fact is, Christians get their panties bunched for all kinds of things. But sometimes it's hard to tell which gripes, objections and concerns are legitimate, and which are simply a result of personal preference or snooty separatism.

Joe Aldrich, in his book Lifestyle Evangelism, suggests that the biggest obstacle to sharing the Gospel and penetrating the secular marketplace of ideas, is not unbelievers, but Christians. Unsaved, non-religious folks do not share our standards... and shouldn't be expected to. In fact, their lifestyles often contain the very things we are trying to distance ourselves from. Nevertheless, in order to win their hearts we must develop common ground. But finding common ground with the carnal, the crude, the hopeless and blind, requires some concessions.

Not long ago, some young men came through our neighborhood, bibles in hand, sharing the Gospel. Or at least, what they said was the Gospel. One of my sons spoke to them and afterwards asked, "Dad, will someone go to hell for getting a tattoo?" I laughed and said, "God's more concerned with the inside, than the outside." Then he pointed out an obscure scripture from the Book of Leviticus that the young evangelists used to make their point. Apparantly, the Gospel according to these men was, Repent and believe in Jesus... and for heavens sake, remove those tattoos.

Over the years, Christians have added a lot to the Gospel. Now it's, Repent and believe and... fill in the blank: stop cussing, drinking, dressing like a sleaze, watching R-rated movies, playing cards and gambling. And for heavens sake, remove those tattoos.

But somewhere along the way, we got lost compiling lists of do's and dont's, establishing codes of conduct, ethics and dress, instead of just loving people.

Maybe the preacher was right. The world is going to hell and most of us don't give a damn. But what's even sadder, is that some people are more concerned about the word 'damn,' than that people are going to hell.

Continued...

When Casting Bread

2006-05-06T08:49:00.000-07:00

I've chronicled here the funk I fell into after I completed my first novel. Actually, writing those things was cathartic (perhaps that's one benefit to blogging). You may recall that the joy of finishing said book was quickly doused by the realization that I must now sell it. Somewhere between trend analysis, researching comparative titles and fudging selling points, my creative arteries hardened. Yikes, I can feel the darkness looming just speaking about it.

Anyway, several things kinda converged to buoy my spirit. As I mentioned, one was just talking about the gloom (funny how that happens, huh?). Another was hearing from all you wonderful people -- Dineen, Gina, Kelly, Noel, Janet, Sandy, suz -- may God bless you all for the words of encouragement (and rebuke!). Stephen Koch's, The Modern Library Writer's Workshop, rekindled the fading embers (thanks Mark Bertrand for the recommendation). And that six pack of Guinness helped too (just kidding). But something else happened that was really... weird.

I had a dream.

Now I'm not easily enamored with visions and words and premonitions, nor people who claim to have them all the time. But I believe God spoke and God speaks; He still interacts with His people on a personal level. And sometimes this involves oddball intrusions.

Well, that's what happened last weekend before dawn. I woke up with a Scripture blaring in my brain.

Cast your bread upon the waters, for after many days you will find it again. (Ecclesiastes 11:1 NIV)

Hmm. This is not on my list of "life verses," or something I read recently that was shuffling about on my cerebral sidewalk. But there it was, standing at the curb of my consciousness, tapping its foot, waiting for a ride. What do you want? I asked. Let me in, she replied, and I'll show you.

So I scratched the verse on an index card and taped it over my desk. Coincidentally, I had vowed to finish my Proposal package that weeked... something I'd vowed to do the previous four weekends. But between Koch's book, my pushy writer friends, my desire to get on with another project and now this peculiar Scripture-dream, I was able to squeeze the pitiful turd out.

So it's done. Now what? "Cast your bread upon the waters..." You mean...? Yeah. Just cast it, fling it, scatter it. You know, mail it out, doofus. So I did that. I'd gathered names of literary agents I wanted to contact, started at the top and mailed a query letter to four of them. In the next hour, four things happened that left me rather stunned.

* I received a rejection letter on a short story I subbed almost six months ago.

* I received an acceptance letter and contract from a semi-pro sci-fi print magazine for another story (more on that later).

* The agency at the top of my list contacted me, said they found my premise and writing style to be intriguing, requested a full proposal and sample chapters.

* Another agency contacted me also requesting a full proposal and sample chapters. (They've since requested more chapters.)

And this all happened within the first hour of submitting my stupid Proposal. No lie.

I always tell my kids, Expect the worst and hope for the best. Pretty pessimistic, huh? I'm under no illusion that the interest of these agents will actually amount to anything -- i.e, I'm expecting the worst. But all my moping seems pretty silly now. And that odd little verse has suddenly taken on a world of significance.

Casting means letting go. And in a way, that's been a difficult thing for me. I labored over that story for a year and half, and now it was time to fling it into the unknown. The editorial abyss has been known to swallow stories and leave aspiring authors shipwrecked. But God promises a safe return. I've got a long way to go but I'm slowly beginning to believe that. Perhaps you find yourself on the shoreline today, watching the surf, wondering if the "bread" you cast will ever return. Take heart, dear writer, "...for after many days you will find it again."

On Eye-Plucking - #3

2006-05-03T05:44:00.000-07:00

Church history is anything but pretty. Schisms and rifts mar the terrain. I once recall reading about a heated controversy that erupted between two groups during the Middle Ages regarding baptism. One group believed in baptism by immersion, the other, baptism by sprinkling. The debate finally ended when a member of the immersion group drowned a member of the sprinkling group.

Yep, when it comes to protecting doctrinal turf, God's people can get mighty feisty.

And well we should. After all, Christ spoke the Truth, died for the Truth and asks us to defend the Truth. But exactly what truths are worth drowning someone over? The young zealot would do well to imbed Augustine's quote in their mental toolbar:

In essentials unity, in non-essentials liberty, in all things charity.

My Aunt Mary, even though she prayed to the saints and misted her houseplants with holy water, had charity. And this, more than anything, kept me scratching my head.

Maybe some of the things I was fighting for, weren't essentials. And maybe the essentials I was defending, demanded less heat and more love.

It was Charles Spurgeon, the great British Baptist, who added balance to my otherwise tilting doctrinal tower. Spurgeon was a staunch Calvinist, but he clearly had two eyes and a sense of humor.

Calvinism and Arminianism are commonly pitted against each other, a doctrinal skirmish that continues to this day. I'd become embroiled in the debate during my ministry, with two factions demanding my allegiance. It wasn't until I read a sermon by Spurgeon, that the planets aligned.

Most Calvinists would say salvation is entirely an act of God; most Arminians would say, men are free to accept or reject God's gift. There are many nuances and variations within these camps. You can line up scriptures on both sides of the aisle. Charles Spurgeon addressed the apparent tension between these two positions in a sermon entitled, Faith and Regeneration. His words have helped me immensely.

I earnestly long that these two doctrines may be well balanced in your souls... Brethren be willing to see both sides of the shield of truth. Rise above the babyhood which cannot believe two doctrines until it sees the connecting link. Have you not two eyes, man? Must you needs put one of them out in order to see clearly? Is it impossible to you to use a spiritual stereoscope, and look at two views of truth until they melt into one, and that one becomes more real and actual because it is made up of two? Many men refuse to see more than one side of a doctrine, and persistently fight against anything which is not on its very surface consistent with their own idea. In the present case I do not find it difficult to believe faith to be at the same time the duty of man and the gift of God; and if others cannot accept the two truths, I am not responsible for their rejection of them; my duty is performed when I have honestly borne witness to them.

This metaphor -- seeing "both sides of the shield of truth" and having a "spiritual stereoscope" -- opened my eyes. Both of them.

Could it be that Calvinists and Arminans both had something to offer, that "these two doctrines may be well balanced"? Could it be that Catholics and Protestants were just different specks along a vast spectrum? Maybe Truth was bigger than any one system could contain. Perhaps God couldn't be boxed in by terminology, definition or tradition. And maybe all my eye-plucking was doing more harm than good.

So I began looking for the middle ground, the place where you're accused of being a spineless ecumenist, where more "convinced" bretheren flog you and and the unconvinced still think you're narrow-minded; where you're too Arminian for the Calvinist, and too Calvinist for the Arminian; where one minute you're doing the Jericho March and the next you're kneeling at a statue of Saint Francis.

Yeah, I've got a long way to go. But I've stopped plucking eyes and drowning people. I figger it's better to err on the side of charity. So that's why I have The Ooze and The New Pantegruel next to each other. I've found I can see better with both of them.

On Eye-Plucking - #2

2006-04-30T08:31:00.000-07:00

According to the editors of the World Christian Encyclopedia there are 34,000 separate Christian groups in the world today. The authors have compiled global diagrams, statistics on martyrdom, geopolitical-religious blocs, and other unusual tidbits, such as:

The 5 most dangerous of all Christian vocations (over 3% murder rates) are: bishops, evangelists, catechists, colporteurs, foreign missionaries.

Books primarily about Jesus in today’s libraries number 175,000 different titles in 500 lan - guages, in - creasing by 4 newly published every day.

Church treasurers are embezzling each year $16 billion out of church funds, but only 5% ever get found out.

Christians spend more on the annual audits of their churches and agencies ($810 million) than on all their workers in the non-Christian world.

The total cost of Christian outreach averages $330,000 for each and every newly baptized person.

My Aunt Mary didn't know squat about geopolitical-religious blocs or Christian outreach averages. But one thing was indisputable about the old school, old world woman -- she loved the Lord. Which disturbed me at the time. Why?

Because Aunt Mary was a Catholic.

I was raised a Catholic, drifted far from it and finally, broke hard. When I became a Christian in the spring of 1980, I quickly understood that the sterile rituals of my youth were worlds apart from my newfound relationship with Christ. I quickly found out some other things, too.

Like the Pope is the Antichrist and the Catholic Church is the Great Whore of Babylon.

That's just the type of info a young, impressionable believer needs to know, right? Wrong! I marched over to my parents' house, Bible in tow, spouted some Scripture and assigned them to hell. Along with the Pope.

Only six months into the faith and I'd become an eye-plucker. Kudos, Nimrod.

The assault was fueled by a small tract. Printed by Chick Publications, the graphic artwork and grim tone fueled my ignorant zeal. Jack Chick, his line of comic tracts and his anti-Catholic propoganda, have become almost legendary. Articles like The Satanic Roots of the Catholic Church sent me back to my Catholic friends with bullhorn blazing fervor. "Come out from among them," I bellowed, "and be ye separate." I purchased JC's anti-Catholic reference bible, The Two Babylons, and ingested it with glee.

And my eye pile grew.

But Aunt Mary had to spoil it. She would chuckle at my rants and say, "God love you, Mickey." Then she'd take my head in her hands, kiss my forehead and pledge her continued prayer. Which confused me to no end. "She's a Catholic," I wondered, "so how can she be saved?" In spite of her affiliation with the antichrist and the Great Whore of Babylon, the woman loved Jesus. And that reality, as uncomfortable as it was, kept me from complete blindness.

A little more...

On Eye-Plucking - #1

2006-04-27T05:38:00.000-07:00

I recently received an email enquiring about two chicklets on my site. Their proximity to each other and inclusion together perplexed (maybe bothered is a better word) the writer. The banners in question are The Ooze and The New Pantegruel (TNP). I enjoy and recommend both sites, yet they come from two very different angles, and this somewhat concerned the writer.

Without diving too deep into theological minutae or oversimplifying their distinctives, The Ooze is Emergent while TNP is Reformed. The belief systems these groups represent are often viewed as in conflict to one another. Emergents employ a narrative theology, while the Reformed espouse a systematic theology. The latter is considered conservative, the former, liberal. Both speak to our culture from opposite ends. Emergents search for new interpretations and applications of Scripture, they seek to deconstruct and reconstruct Christianity in the postmodern world. Reformers cling to, for the most part, a very strong sense of the past, namely theologians who have blazed a trail, and well-defined sets of beliefs. Concessions to culture are often viewed with a skeptical eye by the Reformed mind.

Now, I realize that someone from either side could easily (probably, rightly) take issue with my pigeon-holing of these movements. I definitely do not want to downplay their doctrinal distinctives or convey an indifference to hard fought traditions and essential biblical doctrines. Furthermore, anyone with a high school diploma and a rudimentary grasp of either position could probably take me in a scrum.

But I've come to believe that The Ooze and The New Pantegruel can exist in harmony. Just like my two eyes. In fact, I can see better with both of them.

I started inching toward this wishy-washiness when I was in the ministry. I'd received no formal theological education and was left to learn on the fly. Not a good place for a pastor to be. But I was surrounded by lots of sound men from a Charismatic persuasion. I thought I had all my ducks in a row until I ran into two fellas along the way.

Fella One had an airtight eschatology. He believed the Church would go through the Great Tribulation and that current teachings about a Pre-Trib Rapture were flat out satanic. He left me tittering like an invalid with my flimsy theology in shreds. Once I regained enough composure to research the subject, a second spittle pool developed under my jaw. There was only a thousand variations within the eschatological grid. I could choose between amillenial, pre-millenial or post-millenial end-times scenarios. This was not encouraging for someone just learning to pronounce the word mil-len-i-al.

But it was the angry, confused people left in Fella One's wake that opened one eye.

Fella Two, on the other hand, was less divisive. Nevertheless, he shared One's dogged defense of a belief system. This guy was a Calvinist. "God is sovereign," he said. "Man's will is anything but free." Predestination, election, Arminianism and supralapsarianism became new words on the docket. This theology stuff was getting complicated. How did the early Church -- you know, the farmers, fisherman and slaves -- ever make it?

But it was the tension, the lack of grace, the rigidty, -- ultimately, the dissension -- that opened the other eye.

Was Christianity that complicated? What beliefs did we really need to live and die for? When was doctrinal division right and necessary? And when do we just shake our head and smile at the wonderful diversity? So here I was, a young man, a young husband, a young father, and a young pastor, just trying to do my best to feed the sheep, surrounded by causes and beliefs and urgent pleas for truth and purity.

And Mable, in the second row, couldn't give a rip about supralapsarianism.

It wasn't until I met a delightful dead man that both eyes were opened.

Continued...

INsites: Master's Artist

2006-04-24T19:57:00.000-07:00

Writers are peculiar people. So just imagine what happens when you cram eleven of them on the same bus. Well, the folks at The Master's Artist prove that it can be an entertaining, informative ride. These authors, poets and journalists are never at a loss for words. Whether it's a lesson on craft or a ditty at the Waffle House, this wonderful collection of artists has something to offer the aspiring writer. Ever since I stumbled upon the site a year ago, The Master's Artist has become a daily watering hole along the infobahn. Jules Quincy Stephens (JQS), is the site administrator and sovereign of said realm. (Well, somewhat sovereign.) I recently had the opportunity to talk with her about The Master's Artist.
* * *

MIKE: How did The Master’s Artist (MA) come about, Jules, and how has it changed since its inception?

JQS: I’m really bad at remembering details, which isn’t a good trait for a journalist to have. Luckily, most people I write for suffer from acute apathy or just don’t read what I write.

Half the current roster – Deborah Gyapong, Mary DeMuth, siouxsiepoet, Jeanne Damoff and myself – were part of The Writers View, a CBA-specific discussion group.

The discussion that drew our little coffee klatch together was the tired-out rage over whether the CBA – it now has a new name, which no one uses and I don’t know – should allow naughty words in its books. There’s of course one camp that says hell yes, another group that says golly no, and those in the middle asking, Why the **** are we discussing this?

I forget my exact answer to the question, but whatever it was, it generated quite a bit of e-mail for me, mostly positive, even though we had vastly different opinions on the topic. That’s how I started chatting off the list with Deborah, Jeanne and Suz. Jeanne and Suz know Mary, Deborah knows Suz and Mary and Jeanne … there you go.

Deborah is passionate about everything she does, and was probably the first to bring up blogging. I had reserved a blog, The Master’s Artist, for another reason, but that fell through, so I said, Hey, I have a blog.

People have questioned the title of the blog, The Master’s Artist. Why Artist? I chose the title, and to me it was a play on ‘a master artist’ and ‘Master’ being God. I know ‘artist’ evokes more an image of a painter or sculptor, and it’s probably a stretch to say writers sculpt and paint with words. One former member and a good friend of mine, Susan Kaye, always argued that writing is a craft, not an art. But I just didn’t like the sound of The Master’s Craftsman. That makes me think of Bob Vila.

So, we had me, Deborah, Mary, Jeanne, siouxsiepoet. I asked my friends Donna Shepherd and Susan Kaye to join us. The blog officially started in May 2004.

At first, there was no rhyme or reason to the blog – anyone posted pretty much whenever the Spirit moved them. Being in newspapers, I just couldn’t stand the haphazard posting style, so I asked that we each pick a day to post and we did. I guess I’m getting into some technicalities that don’t really impact the public here … OK, I remember useless details.

Our format and style hasn’t changed much in two years – everyone posts what they want. I really love the mix. There are no rules or regulations or topics of discussion, though we would frown if one of our members decided to drop an f-bomb in a post.

Since May 2004, we have added members to our roster, none of whom have used the f-word that I know of: Mike Snyder, Lisa Samson, J. Mark Bertrand, Dee Stewart, and most recently, Steve Peacock.

MIKE: What are you hoping to accomplish with MA? In the end, what would you like the average reader to come away with?

JQS: I think our statement says it best: Many voices, a single purpose: Welcome to The Master's Artist, a group of writers striving for excellence in their craft while glorifying God's kingdom and edifying the Body of Christ. Please stop by each day for new musings, insights and opinions about being a child of God and writer.

MIKE: The contributors to MA have varied backgrounds, beliefs and styles. But what are some of the common threads that bind you? What convictions does this eclectic group share?

JQS: We’re writers and we all claim Jesus as our Lord and Savior. That’s our common thread. I think the common conviction is that because of who we are, our work should be excellent and God honoring. Do we always accomplish this? – no. I’m the blog, remember.

MIKE: Your readers can expect a new post every day – but we never know what we’ll get. Some topics are humorous, while others are thought provoking; some address craft, others theology. Is this intentional? Do you have any guidelines for posting or do you give your contributors total freedom?

JQS: There is nothing intentional on MA, meaning we don’t schedule topics. We do have discussions off the blog, but rarely are they about planning posts.

I haven’t been happy with some of the posts – I’m thinking of one in particular right now that really ticked me off, and no, I’m not going to tell you which one (though the one I’m thinking of has nothing to do with a toothy church leader from Texas) – and I don’t usually comment, because though I’m the administrator of the blog, I’m committed to not censoring people’s thoughts. I absolutely would step in if anyone entered blasphemous territory, but I haven’t had to do that, and I don’t expect I will.

MIKE: In Donna Shepherd’s March 15th post, her mention of Joel Osteen’s book contract sparked a lot of interesting – even heated – discussion about his theology and ministry. MA appears to represent a broad spectrum of Christendom – from Catholic to Charismatic to Orthodox. How big a part does theology play in MA? How do you reconcile the group’s different beliefs with your call to “glorify God’s kingdom”? When do issues / beliefs like Mr. Osteen’s become a topic of conversation?

JQS: Again, because we don’t plan posts, I’m surprised along with everyone else each day. The whole Osteen controversy was started by me, and I was reluctant to comment at all at first. But my family had just left a church because they espoused Osteen’s message – sorry, I can’t even call it theology – and the post touched a nerve for me. I don’t believe for one second that we can look at the success of someone who claims to be a Christian – and I’m not specifically talking about Osteen now, but in general terms – and say God’s blessing is on it. I have a hard time believing that any book outside the Bible that’s a runaway success in the world is very good spiritually. Didn’t Jesus say a true believer would be hated by the world? Hmmm … Those opinions are mine and do not reflect the opinions of those on The Master’s Artist.

We try to stay away from the theological discussions because I know the members come from diverse Christian traditions. They are divisive and I don’t expect to solve all the theological arguments of the past 200 centuries on a blog about writing. I’m not an ecumenist, so how I administrate a blog with such diverse church affiliations is funny – or hypocritical. But how we view God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit and grace and salvation and sin no doubt shapes our writing. Or at least it should. No one has written anything that’s convicted me about the need to leave.

We all believe that Jesus is the Son of God, and that’s been a good enough confession for our members.

MIKE: MA is not hesitant to ask hard questions. For instance, Mary DeMuth’s post “Does our prose honor an intelligent Jesus” (Feb 28, 2006) provoked great discussion. Does MA intentionally seek to “push the envelope” or ask hard questions concerning the state of the Christian book industry?

JQS: Do we seek to push the envelope? I don’t think so. We’re not gimmicky, or at least I hope we’re not. I think we are all just very intelligent Christian writers who are deeply concerned with our faith and our craft. And our writers write in all sorts of genres, which gives depth to our blog. I love that we not only have so many different voices, but that those voices come from just about every aspect of writing and publishing: poetry, prose, children’s literature, devotions, criticism, journalism, memoir. And that’s it, too – we are all published writers. That doesn’t mean we’ve all written books, but we all have publishing credentials, so we’re not just a bunch of whining wannabes who moan about the state of the CBA or any other organization. We’ve earned the right to whine (joking!), and I hope our readers appreciate that.

MIKE: Most of your authors are published within the CBA. Nevertheless, MA often addresses the strictures and deficiencies of the Christian publishing industry. Is there a consensus among the group about the state of the CBA? If so, what is it?

JQS: I think some of us started out pretty harsh against the CBA, but the CBA is pandering to its audience, just like any other industry that doesn’t have a death wish. And when the audience starts to change, so will the CBA. (I just finished reading Vinita Hampton Wright’s novel, “Velma Still Cooks in Leeway.” I just about fainted when I read “damn” in her book. If the book weren’t a “Christian” book, I wouldn’t have blinked.)

It’s about money. And while there isn’t anything inherently wrong with that – people have the right to make a living – I just wonder how much praying is going on inside “Christian” publishing houses. The Bible is clear that you can’t serve God and money. Does eternity play into their decisions? Like Lisa said, she can’t use the word “fart” in her books, but some of these houses will publish anything they think will sell regardless of the message. Go into any Christian bookstore or mega-bookstore – I think the evidence speaks for itself.

MIKE: What plans do you have for MA? Anything your readers can look forward to in the near future?

JQS: Deborah and I have batted around some ideas, but The Master’s Artist is completely voluntary and we all have day jobs. I’m just so happy and blessed that this talented group of people sacrifices time each week to contribute.

I hope we just continue to produce a great blog that challenges and encourages the writer who claims to love Jesus Christ.

I would like to add a few more people to the blog: a screenwriter, a publishing house editor and an agent. That’s on my wishlist.

MIKE: Is Michael Snyder’s room really padded?

JQS: I hope so – he seems to spontaneously burst into fits of napping. It’s one of his spiritual gifts.

Thanks, Mike, for the opportunity to talk about The Master’s Artist.

* * *
Thanks Jules! You guys are a blessing to all us aspiring writers.

The Master’s Artists are Deborah Gyapong, Mary DeMuth, Dee Stewart, Lisa Samson, Donna Shepherd, siouxsiepoet, Jeanne Damoff, Michael Snyder, J. Mark Bertrand, Steve Peacock and Jules Quincy Stephens.

Thoughts on Calling - Five

2006-04-24T05:03:00.000-07:00

"The unex - amined life," said Soc - rates, "is not worth living." However, too many autopsies can bleed us to death. The problem with self-examination is potential paralysis. It's hard to enjoy the sunset when you're fixated on the mirror.

So I continue my ruminations on calling with trepidation. I desperately want to be on the right path, but if I think too hard about it, I'll never move forward. Besides, can we ever really know, without a doubt, that we're on the right path? Perhaps it's enough that we're aimed in the general direction. After all, the father of the faith didn't have all the details before he pulled up stakes.

By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going (Hebrews 11:8 NIV).

What?! He "went... not knowing where he was going"? This grates against everything I am. I abhor agenda-less meetings and rudder-less vacations. I need maps and blueprints and timetables. This faith stuff is taxing for a control freak like me.

But I'm beginning to wonder if faith isn't the heartbeat of calling.

Blaise Pascal, in his delightful collection of musings entitled Pensées , suggested that God is both hidden and revealed. "If there were no obscurity," Pascal says, "man would not feel his corruption: if there were no light, man could not hope for a cure." So God reveals enough of Himself to make faith reasonable, but not so much of Himself, that faith is unnecessary.

I wonder if the same isn't true about calling -- it's both hidden and revealed. God blesses us with individual talents and giftings, hunches and impulses that steer and shape us. But He won't force us to use those gifts and follow those hunches. In fact, we may bury the talent if we so choose. In other words, God points us in the general direction, but He won't drag us along the path. It reminds me of the oft-quoted Scripture:

Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, then I will come in to him, and will dine with him, and he with me. (Revelation 3:20 WEB)

Isn't that what a call is? Literally? It's a Voice beck - oning to us from the other side; it's a knock on the door of our heart. Jesus could easily blow the door off its hinges; nevertheless, He stands, like a gentleman, and knocks. Why?

Because a call is incomplete without an answer.

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, 'Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?' And I said, 'Here am I. Send me!' (Isaiah 6:8).

"I heard... I said." A call. An answer.

But here I am, scalpel in hand, waiting for more. It's not enough that I hear the Voice or the Knock. I need a blueprint or a map, a telescope to see down the road and a safety net to catch me if I fall. Meanwhile, I'm bleeding myself to death through introspection. Maybe God's given me everything I need to know about my calling. Now He's simply waiting for my response. And herein lies the problem, because the next step is the one I fear the most -- the step of faith.

Still thinking...

Wheelchair Rocker

2006-04-19T20:12:00.000-07:00

My wife says I'm too old for this. So I'll be forty-eight next week, who cares. Can't a guy enjoy his music... even an old guy? When I was a kid (like forever-ago), I saw all the big bands. You know, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Black Sabbath, Queen, Elton John, Yes, ELP, Rush, Aerosmith. Ah, the memories... smoke-filled arenas, throbbing eardrums, vomit puddles. All right, forget the memories.

Anyway, now that I'm a believer (26 years and counting), my love of music is even greater. Of course, my tastes have improved. Now, heavy metal is just one of many good things in life. No, I haven't been to Ozzfest or the Geezers with Guitars tour. Don't need to. Seeing quality Christian artists keeps me busy. Jars of Clay, Delirious, Jennifer Knapp, Audio Adrenaline, Phil Keaggy, Out of Eden, Anberlin, Seventy Sevens, Michael Tait, Spoken, Charlie Peacock, T-Bone, Blindside, Project 86... dude, I've seen them all. And some. Props to my concert buddy, CD. Without you, my bic would burn by its lonesome.

Well now, I have some tickets I've long coveted. As you can see in yonder pic, I've acquired, without the help of a scalper (unless you consider Ticketmaster's stinkin' $14.60 "conven - ience charge" equiva - lent to a scalper), two tickets to see one of my all-time favorite bands. Ladies and gentlemen, next month, Sunday night, May 14, at the House of Blues Aneheim, me and said "concert buddy" (i.e., my oldest son) will be seeing P.O.D. They allow "old guys" into these things, don't they? Hey, as long as my wheelchair can get through that door, I'll be there. Hopefully, I don't get caught up in a mosh pit and do a wheelie on the thing. Man, I'm almost as excited about this as I was interviewing Gina on my blog!

Now, I've got two more bands on my hit list: Switchfoot and Reliant K. Any of you guys ever seen them? Just missed Switchfoot at the Glass House in Pomona before they blew up (the band, not the Glass House). Anyway, I'm keeping my eyes peeled. I'd love to hear your recommendations, just go easy on the country and R&B. Long live all us wheelchair rockers!

Introducing INsites

2006-04-17T18:00:00.000-07:00

Not long ago, I doodled about creativity and imagination. How do artists cultivate ideas, find fresh angles and avoid writing ruts? In their relentless pursuit of originality, creative souls have developed all kinds of odd rituals and techinques. No doubt, one of the most obvious ways to be inspired, is to get in touch with someone who is.

The internet provides near unlimited opportunties to bask in the cyberglow of the Inspired. Of course, the Web can also be a time-consuming, brain-draining, electronic rabbit trail. Notwithstanding, there are many, many great sites to see. The aspiring artist is wont to have at her disposal an arsenal of trusty links, blogs and websites to help keep her mind sharp and her craft honed.

In that spirit, I'm kicking off a feature on Decompose that I'm calling INsites. Here I'll highlight sites that keep me INformed and INspired, the e-fires along the superhighway that I point and click to warm myself by. Ocassionally, I'll be featuring these blogs or websites, interviewing the site owner, and focusing on unique aspects of said domain. Okay, so it's not quite The Gong Show. It's just my own secret treasure map of the infobahn... Enjoy.

Thoughts on Calling - Four

2006-04-15T05:59:00.000-07:00

It's said that, destiny is not something you choose; it's something that chooses you. I don't believe in blind fate, but there's truth to that adage. Why? Because in some cases, the road to destiny is so bitter, so difficult, so trying, that nobody in their right mind would choose it.

Charles Spurgeon has been called The Prince of Preachers. Yet his ministry was anything but glamorous. He suffered from various ailments and fell into serious depression at times. Spurgeon had rheumatic gout that eventually took his life at the age of fifty-seven. Nevertheless, "his graphic and emotionally charged sermons, changed the face of evangelical Christianity. Today, one hundred years after his death, there is more material in print by Charles Spurgeon than by any other Christian author - alive or dead."

Had Spurgeon known about the trials and difficulties of the ministry, would he have chosen it?

When I contemplate this issue of calling -- especially the "call to write" -- I think about Charles Spurgeon. In his, Lectures to My Students, the preacher said this to his class of aspiring ministers:

Do not enter the ministry if you can help it... If any student in this room could be content to be a newspaper editor, or a grocer, or a farmer, or a doctor, or a lawyer, or a senator, or a king, in the name of heaven and earth let him go his way; he is not the man in whom dwells the Spirit of God in its fullness, for a man so filled with God would utterly weary of any pursuit but that for which his inmost soul pants.

Did you get that? Here's one of the greatest preachers of all time dissuading others from becoming preachers. Unless "his inmost soul pants" after the ministry, Spurgeon advises the young man to put his hands to another plough.

The wannabe writer would do well to heed this advice. Of course, the call to shepherd souls and proclaim the Gospel is infinitely more important than the call to write. Nevertheless, the writing life is such that, unless our "inmost soul pants" after it, the tedium and drudgery and isolation and disappointment can well become a ball and chain.

Stephen Koch, in The Modern Library Writer's Workshop, strikes a similar note of caution:

Lorrie Moore begins her famous short story "How to Become a Writer" with this blunt recommendation: "First try to be something, anything, else." Though vocations, like talent, can be damaged, they are rather hard to destroy. "I still think," Moore says, "you should become a writer only if you have no choice. Writing has to be an obsession -- it's only for those who say, 'I'm not going to do anything else.'"

I love that line: you should become a writer only if you have no choice. That's what the Prince of Preachers said: Do it only if you can't do anything else. Which brings me back to square one. Is destiny something that chooses you, or is chosen by you? Is the call to write something that lays hold of you, or something you lay hold of? Is it a trail you blaze, or a road you follow? The apostle Paul put it this way:

Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. (Philippians 3:12 NIV).

In this sense, calling works both ways. It is the taking hold of something that's taken hold of you; it's the working out of something that's been worked into you; it's the apprehending of Someone who's apprehended you. Or in the case of writers, it is the birthing of words conceived in you.

Not finished...

Thoughts on Calling - Three

2006-04-12T20:07:00.000-07:00

call·ing (kô'lĭng) n.

1.)An inner urge or a strong impulse, especially one believed to be divinely inspired.

2.) An occupation, profession, or career.

Most writers would confess feeling an "inner urge" or "strong impulse" to write -- some would even say it's "divinely inspired." I don't doubt the "inner urge" part; it's the "divinely inspired" part I've been questioning.

I think this term, "called," is used too recklessly nowadays. People usually feel called to great things -- to preach the Gospel to packed houses, to play shortstop for the Yankees, to win American Idol. How come people don't feel called to "lesser" endeavors? Have you ever met someone called to be a custodian, a lettuce picker or a mechanic? Probably not. People in those professions are usually looking for an exit strategy. So why is it that people only feel divinely inspired when it comes to great, grandiose destinies? Where would we be if God didn't call someone to take our trash to the dump, change the oil in our car and disinfect the bedpans in the nursing home?

Of course, all those folks are dreaming of becoming writers.

For one reason or another, people see the "call to write" as a glamorous thing. Just the mention of "writer" conjures images of someone in a bathrobe and slippers till noon, sipping their favorite beverage on a seaside balcony, oblivious to deadlines and time constraints, imagining exotic locations with quirky characters, a stack of uncashed royalty checks tottering at their elbow. No wonder people feel "called to write"! And herein, lies part of the problem.

As I see it, the reason many people feel "called to write" is because they have a misconception about the office. In other words, because they see writing as a fashionable, lucrative, carefree existence, they feel an "inner urge" more readily. And who wouldn't?

The fact is, writing -- good writing, professional writing -- is a tedious, trying endeavor. At the outset, a person may feel called to write; but what happens when the critiques come and the rejections roll in? What happens when editors yawn and agents snicker? Then we'll see how divinely inspired the author feels.

So here's what I'm coming to believe: Calling is tested by adversity and proven by persistence. How do you know you're called to be a writer? First, you keep writing.

Continued...

Thoughts on Calling - Two

2006-04-10T08:47:00.000-07:00

And I sent messengers unto them, saying, 'I am doing a great work, so that I cannot come down: why should the work cease, whilst I leave it, and come down to you?' (Nehemiah 6:3 KJV).

The Bible never talks about a "call to write," though many writers and artists would describe their pursuits in those terms. In fact, when I devoted myself to writing in spring '04, I framed the impulse in terms of a calling -- it was something God had gifted and guided me to.

Can a person pour themselves into writing -- really, into any great pursuit -- without having a sense of destiny or calling?

As you can see from my last post (and the tongue-lashing I received from the commentators), I've been re-thinking this issue. Maybe I should approach writing as a hobby, rather than a career. Maybe my motivations and intentions are misguided -- you know, I'm in it for the wrong reasons. Maybe I just don't have what it takes. Maybe... oh well, you get the idea.

Lately, I've been contemplating this section of Scripture (quoted above) from the Book of Nehemiah. Nehemiah was a displaced Jew serving under the King of Persia. His homeland was in ruins and he longed to see the city restored. After seeking God, Nehemiah took a step of faith, and doors were opened. He gathered support and began rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem... but he was met by opposition and distraction.

In this section of Scripture, officials are beginning to worry about Nehemiah's rebuilding efforts and sending messages to him, imploring him to stop the work and meet with them. His response? 'I am doing a great work, so that I cannot come down: why should the work cease, whilst I leave it, and come down to you?' Or, to put it another way: 'Why should I waste my precious time on you?' Okay, so he wasn't that blunt. Nevertheless, Nehemiah felt the work God called him to far outweighed any other calling or opportunity.

The more resolved we are about our calling, the easier it is to draw lines... and the more difficult it is to get us down from the wall. Nehemiah believed he was doing "a great work" and, as a result, he was more focused, less distracted.

Do you feel God's called you to write or paint or compose? If so, you will face distractions -- just like Nehemiah. The devil will try to get you down from the wall. Of course, many demands and disruptions are not of the devil. I need to come down from the wall to go to work. I need to come down from the wall to spend time with my wife. I need to come down from the wall to go the gym. And this is a good thing. The point is, when we understand God's calling we are more discerning about what we stop working for. The less focused we are, the more quickly we leave the wall.

Are you easily distracted? You sit down, determined to get your word quota in for the day... but you gotta answer some e-mails... and check out a website... and read another blog... and get a bite to eat... and another... None of these things are bad. It's just they can whittle away at a higher calling.

Let me suggest that one of the keys to time management and spiritual focus is the conviction of our calling. Because Nehemiah believed he'd been called and chosen by God, he was more able to deflect distractions. Likewise, the less convinced we are about a "call to write," the more easily we will get frustrated, depressed and drift.

If someone is "called by God" to do anything -- preach, write, lead, counsel, pray, manage -- they will become a target. The devil will seek to draw them from their assignment. "Come down from the wall!" he'll cry. "Join me by the poolside." And the less confident we are in our calling, the more likley we are to do so...

So let me ask you, how do you know you've been "called to write"?

Thoughts on Calling - One

2006-04-05T19:27:00.000-07:00

And I sent messengers unto them, saying, 'I am doing a great work, so that I cannot come down: why should the work cease, whilst I leave it, and come down to you?' (Nehemiah 6:3 KJV).

I'm losing my mojo. As soon as I typed the last word, sipped my warm Guinness and pushed away from my computer, I felt it leave me. That was a month or two ago, when I finished my first novel. Fat and happy, I was. Now I'm just fat. And ever since I've kinda meandered... from project to project... blog to blog... without purpose.

Some people feel "called" to write, and right now I'm not sure I'm one of them. Called? What exactly does that mean? Called to write? Now I'm even more confused. Is that like "called to preach" or "called to die for the tribe"?

Really, this blasted second-guessing started when I began my Proposal. Non-writers are in the dark about two things: (1) Good writing is damn hard work, and (2) Getting published is serious business. So I spent a year in this warm literary cocoon, enveloped by cyber-friends, outlines and (worst of all) my own thoughts. But, lo and behold, from the primordial grey matter, a story evolved. A decent story. Not The Breakout Novel, but above average. I think.

So I heave a great sigh, reacquaint myself with family and take a break from writing. But all the while someone is whispering in my ear. Psst. Mike. You're not done. "Whaddya mean, I'm not done? A full year of writing and research and re-writing and -- Hey. Who is this, anyway?" Psst. Mike. Now you have to sell it. "Is this the devil?"

So I kiss my wife goodbye, crack my knuckles, and turn to Proposal Writing 101. By the first paragragh I realize I will loathe this. Writing, I like. Selling, I don't. Comparative Titles and Selling Points and Market Trends and Author Endorsements? And this is just to get an agent to glance your way. Egads! So here I sit, wilted; trying to kick-start a once humming engine. Was I called to this -- to teeth-whitened sales pitches, trend analysis and portfolio packing? Characters, stakes and sub-plots, I get. But who tossed head-shots and handshakes into the mix? I've stalled in the fast lane and, in my neighborhood, nobody stops for you.

Now my mojo's gone, the wall is still in ruins, and my calling is questionable. Another Guinness, bartender. And oh, by the way, my first novel has collected that first thin layer of virgin dust.

More...

Hold the Anchovies

2006-03-30T19:28:00.000-08:00

Some random stuff...

Speaking of Flannery O'Conner's "haunting moment," I stumbled upon an interesting post which traverses similar ground. The topic was the difference between films that scare you and films that disturb you in some deep way. Adam Walter, in this post, makes some terrific points. I recently saw A History of Violence, a film which, I think, illustrates the difference. While there is graphic violence and frightening moments, the underlying message is so disturbing it stuck with me for days after the viewing.

On a lighter note, Photoshop's Worth1000 contest site is absolutely hilarious. It contains 5,958 galleries of 215,299 original images, some of which I've sprinkled throughout this post. Start with their Galleries section. If you're like me, it won't take long to get lost. Be sure to check out Bestiality and Celebrity Sideshow and Studio Mix n Match. The Middle Earth section is near blasphemy for us Lord of the Rings fans. This site is pure comedy!

The Poet's Corner is a cool place for your daily fix of poetry. But it's way more than that. They've assembled an extensive library that contains 6,725 works by hundreds of authors covering thousands of years. You can explore Lives of the Poets, Faces of the Poets and even a Daily Poetry Break. Whether you're looking for Ancient Poems, Ballads and Songs of the Peasantry of England or Native American Prayers, you will find them here.

Finally, for some wild and crazy art, check out Juxtapoz, Arts and Culture Magazine. I picked up a copy a while back at the local Borders, and was imme - diately wowed by the ima - ginative designs and twisted art. They feature lotsa edgy artists, like Jeff Soto. But one of the best sections of the online site is the Reader Art. If you're ever looking for the fringes of contemporary art, you might find them here.

Okay, so I'm not picky about pizza toppings. Just go easy on the pepperoni and hold the anchovies.

The Artful Paradox

2006-03-27T17:50:00.000-08:00

Barbara Nicolosi's blog, Church of the Masses is one of my weekly watering holes along the internet highway. While her site focuses upon films and film-making, it also contains lotsa wonderful insights for Christians in the arts. These recent quotes had me particularly psyched...

The biggest shortfall I find in beginning writers - Christians and pagans - is the failure to understand and harness the real power in the screen art form. Anyone who wants to write great movies has to plumb the depths of the multilevel nature of cinema and then begin to exploit the levels to create paradox.

The real power to help and heal the audience in a work of art is in paradox. We really want to haunt the audience in the way, for example, that Flannery O’Conner’s stories are haunting. She’s the one who created that phrase, saying that in order to make a story a work, she had to find a “haunting moment.” This refers to a moment in a story that is at once completely true and completely shocking. I have really brooded over this a lot, and it is clear to me that a work of art stays with an audience, and leads them into rumination, in so far as it incorporates paradox.

So, what happens in a movie is that the audience walks into the theater distracted, munching their popcorn, burping and scratching. Then, they encounter the movie, and suddenly they find themselves at the end with a new and irritating/pressing question: “Rats! I have a question now that keeps coming back to me!”

Too many Christians think we are supposed to use the arts to give people the answers. We’re not. We’re supposed to use the arts to lead them into a question. And that is just one stage in their personal journey of divine revelation. Once they have a new question, they will be on a search - consciously or subconsciously. They are going to read, they are going to meet people, God is going to send other things in their life. They are not going to get dunked in the baptismal font and raised to the altar from a movie. That’s too much. But the arts can definitely send people delving.

If you understand that, then you understand presenting an artful paradox is enough. We used to say in the convent, “Humble tasks are still necessary ones.” I think the arts task is very humble in getting people to a place of discomfort, what Plato called the stinging fly around the thoroughbred, getting it so angry that it runs. That is enough.

Her statements spotlight what I believe is a fundamental flaw with "Christian writing" -- using our craft to "provide answers" rather than "provoke questions," or what Ms. Nicolosi calls "presenting an artful paradox." Why is it that so many believing authors feel their book is incomplete without a conversion scene or, at least, an articulation of the Gospel message?

If I'm not mistaken, this tendency to want to provide answers in every story derives from a distorted view of the redemptive process. The Apostle Paul wrote:

So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow (1 Corinthians 3:7).

Christians are powerless to "make things grow." That is God's job. Our job is to "plant" and "water." There are times when we must outline the specifics of the Gospel. But when we do that using art, it becomes propaganda. Or proselytism. The role of the artist is not to indoctrinate, but to stimulate, express or evoke -- to present images and ideas that disturb, startle, madden and inspire, to stir what Flannery O'Conner called the "haunting moment."

We cannot save people through films and books. Of course, God can use these things, but they're always part of a much bigger process. It is enough that the author / artist / film-maker plants and waters seeds, creates a haunting moment and an artful paradox. But only God can make them grow.

Statistically Improbable Phrases

2006-03-23T06:15:00.000-08:00

I collect phrases -- exotic phrases, offbeat phrases, uncon- ventional phrases. Nowadays, I read like a big game hunter creeping through the African brush. But instead of an elephant gun, I hold a Hi-Liter. What am I hunting? Words. Phrases.

My trophy wall is over my desk. It consists of two pages, two columns per page in ten point font. Mounted on it are phrases I've bagged during my expeditions. Here's some of them...

cocooned in the heat of an Indian Summer
disembodiment of desire
cannibalized by committee
custom had staled their infinite variety
shameful complicity
fantastical contortions
mill wheels of the mind
predatory calculation
rooted in the undergrowth

There's a certain rhythm, elegance, peculiarity to these combinations. But I nailed them. Now they're affixed to my workspace for inspiration -- as a reminder to transcend the probable.

Yes, the longer you write, the more probable certain phrases become. You could call them clichés because, over the course of time you will, a.) Hear them and b.) Use them. Phrases like

fill the bill
true blue
its the quality not the quanity
a marriage made in heaven
caught'em with his pants down
fall head over heels
smells fishy
larger than life
too good to be true
so far, so good
sick as a dog
time flies

And so it goes. I think it's safe to say that originality means avoiding the probable. Given enough time, even a monkey banging on a keyboard can string together an atypical admixture of elocution. Bonzo might stumble upon a "to be, or not to be" here or there, but he's got about as much chance of producing a Hamlet as does some sea sludge of evolving into a soulful biped. Good writing is not an accident.

Being the word nerd that I am, it's no wonder the Inside This Book feature at Amazon tickles me. Part of the feature is what they call SIP's -- Statistically Improbable Phrases. They are just that: Statistically improbable groupings of words.

For instance, in Walter Wangerin's classic, Book of the Dun Cow, you'll find the phrase canonical crows. Freakonomics by Steven D. Levitt, Stephen J. Dubner, contains oodles of unusual combos. Things like innovative policing strategies, white boy names, teacher cheating, crack gang and test score gap. How 'bout Map of Bones by James Rollins, featuring these wild almagamations: hematite slab, liquid body armor, entry pool, golden reliquary, primordial light and ancient alchemists. Khaled Hosseini's title, The Kite Runner, is itself an SIP. The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd, has a couple of good ones: honey house, bee hum and (my favorite) peach farm. Her The Mermaid Chair is even better, with phrases like whirly girl, turtle skull, slave cemetery, crab trap, and marsh island.

All these words... I'm in heaven. Where does your writing sit on the probablility scale? Monkeys mimic. But we're called to rise above simian cerebra. So next time you read, might I encourage you to go hunting. Whip out that Hi-Liter of yours and keep your eyes peeled. Start your own collection. And maybe some day, your SIP's will be mounted over someone else's desk.

Reveal Codes

2006-03-09T18:37:00.000-08:00

Alas! Elisha's servant cried,
When he the Syrian army spied,
But he was soon released from care,
In answer to the prophet's prayer.
Straitway he saw, with other eyes,
A greater army from the skies;
A fiery guard around the hill,
Thus are the saints preserved still.

Such are the words penned by John Newton in 1779, in a hymn entitled More With Us Than With Them. It's based on the story of Elisha and his servant in 2 Kings 6:8-17. The servant awakes one morning to discover the Syrian army surrounds them. When he informs Elisha, the prophet calmly says, "Don't be afraid. Those who are with us are more than those who are with them."

And Elisha prayed, "O Lord, open his eyes so he may see." Then the Lord opened the servant's eyes, and he looked and saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha. -- 2 Kings 6:17 NIV

Please notice: There was no change in the servant's circumstances or environment. The transformation was in the servant himself. Yet this internal adjustment alters his entire perspective of reality.

Chuck Missler describes this as the Reveal Codes command on your computer. Selecting reveal codes allows you to view hidden, embedded computer language in your document; things like tabs, indentations, font sizes, alignment, spacing -- stuff that's usually invisible -- all come to life with this command.

My ruminations on creativity bring me to this story for it illustrates two major convictions of mine: (1) We are surrounded by wonder, surprise, mystery and genius -- chariots of fire! -- every day, and (2) We all have a reveal codes command, a God-given ability to see into, and beyond, the everyday.

Creativity is all about learning how to flip that switch.

Okay, maybe it's not as easy as "flipping a switch." Nevertheless, this ability to see "with other eyes" is what separates the ingenious from the obvious. But how do we do it? How do we train ourselves to observe the invisible? How do we cast off the shackles of the uninspired and spy the flaming chariots?

Well, how you do it is probably different than me. The important thing is that you keep your reveal codes command free of dust and enable it frequently.

The Inspired are infamous for the ways they seek inspiration. Kathryn Lindskoog, in her wonderful book, Creative Writing, For People Who Can’t Not Write, catalogues a cluster of these oddballs and their quirky search for the elusive muse:

If creativity is partly a matter of having the right brain waves going in the right part of the brain, what can a person do physically to enhance creativity? Many writers and thinkers have come up with ideas of their own. Bosset wrapped his head in furs, Schiller wrote with his feet in ice water and smelled rotten apples, Prouse lined his room with cork and kept the windows shut tight, Turgenev kept his feet in a bucket of hot water, Swinburne isolated himself, Oswald Sitwel wrote best in hotel bedrooms, Thackery wrote best inside the busy Athenaeum Club in London, Voltaire dictated while sitting in bed, Descartes and Rossini created flat in bed, Victor Hugo composed on top of a bus, Samuel Johnson thought best in a moving carriage, Trollope wrote in a train, Thackery and Sothey could get ideas only when holding a pen, Balzac drank poisonous quantities of black coffee, Tennyson got his best ideas in spring and summer, and Einstein got his best ideas while shaving. Woody Allen prefers to write on a bed, with no noise or music to distract him. Agatha Christie said that the best time for planning a book is when you’re doing the dishes.

I have to admit, I’ve never tried any of these methods (though I have drank near-poisonous amounts of coffee). The point here is: Find out what triggers that reveal codes button of yours... and do it. Whether it’s wrapping a fur around your dome or plunging your feet in ice water and smelling rotten apples; whether it’s standing on your head, laying flat on your back or doing dishes; whether it’s on the beach or in the garden or the hushed halls of the local library; whether it’s cranking rock or R&B or jazz -- if God’s gifted you to create then you must find the codes that unlock your creativity.

Right now, as you sit reading this, you are surrounded by an unseen army, heavenly horses and chariots of fire -- a dazzling, glorious, celestial display lurking just beyond the border of your senses. But in order to glimpse this far off land we must, as Newton put it, see "with other eyes." We must climb atop the bus, get the sea breeze in our face, or do the dishes -- whatever it takes -- to Reveal Codes.

Not done...

This Ain't Cockadoody

2006-03-02T18:23:00.000-08:00

This is a picture of the first contract I've ever actually signed. Okay, it isn't for six figures, (or five, or four, or three) but it's a genuine paper contract with my signature on it. Today, Dragons, Knights and Angels, The Magazine of Christian Fantasy and Science Fiction, published my short story, Raven in their wonderful mag. And I actually got paid for it! I must give props to my new friend (and whirlwind of a wit) Mirtika, for giving the heads up on this great site. Thanks, Mir!

But that ain't all. After you read Raven, you can drop over to Infuze and read my first ever published poem Seasons' Dance, which you may have read here. I'm actually a tad insecure at the thought of real poets reading such amateurish work. Oh well. If you haven't swooned at the injustice of it all, (and aren't completely embarrassed to associate your name with mine), please leave a comment.

And while I'm on a roll, I just posted chapter one of my first completed novel What Faith Awakes for public perusal. It's a 90,000 word supernatural suspense which was simultaneously exhausting and exhilarating to write. This month I'll be making some minor tweaks, and probably start shopping for an agent. I've got a few short stories I'll be birthing, begin research on a second novel, and by mid-year hope to begin jamming on the new project.

Blessings to those of you who visit here and leave comments. You make this a fun ride. Peace...

Harpooning the White Quail

2006-02-27T14:14:00.000-08:00

Herman Melville in his classic, Moby Dick, wrote about Captain Ahab's impassioned, myopic search for the white whale. It is a great symbol of the cosmic conflict between good and evil, light and darkness. Melville notes that when a whale is sighted there is much frenzied activity: deckhands scurry about, boats are lowered, men begin rowing and sweating, one man stands and the back of the boat shouting orders. But there's another who remains still, uninvolved, distant.

He is the harpooner.

His job is to be quiet and poised and ready to launch his weapon into the belly of the beast at the exact time. His window is very, very small. The primary reason the harpooner does not involve himself in the cyclone of activity, is that he may more effectively release his harpoon. He must be still so that he can hit the bullseye.

Let me suggest to you, Dear Writer -- you are that harpooner.

Yes, our journeys are different. But, like you, I sail the seas in search of some strange, mythical beast. Maybe it's an idea, an image, a story, a unique spin on a tired theme. But the salt air's in our face and our eyes are fixed on the horizon...and we're looking for that single white fin.

Time out. May I splice this?

Quail hunting is quite different from whale hunting. But the principle's the same. Here you have a guy with a vest, creeping through the brush, with a loaded gun in his hand. His steps are slow, methodical. He is not in a hurry or he may scare the fowl critters. The hunter is ferreting out birds cowering in the reeds, fully prepared to drop 'em.

Friends, this is the image of an artist.

You may write or draw or shape, but every day, you must load your weapon and trudge into the sticks, poised and ready. Every day, you must sit yourself in the crow's nest, eyes peeled on the horizon, looking for that white fin splitting the turquoise blue. And not only must we rouse ideas from the brush, but once they surface, once they skate to the skies, we must summon our faculties to shoot them dead on the spot, pierce them with our trusty harpoon and imprison them in our work.

But where do ideas lurk? Where does the mutant quail nest? It is where you're at right now, reading this. Shh. Listen. Is your gun cocked? Is your harpoon poised on your shoulder? For today, the white quail rises.

More...

The Splice of Life

2006-02-22T20:02:00.000-08:00

According to The Writer (March 2006), William F. Nolan has written 165 short stories, 82 books, 45 screenplays and appeared in 300-plus anthologies. His most recognizable work is Logan's Run, upon which the 1975 movie and its upcoming Warner Brothers' remake are based. He was asked this question:

Where do you get the ideas for your fiction?

Nolan: You get ideas from news stories, friends, family, dreams, trips. For instance, The Marble Orchard -- I got the idea for this title from a thought I had while walking past a cemetery years back. Where and when I don't recall, but the headstones in that cemetery looked like stone trees, marble trees -- an entire marble orchard. The image stayed with me.

What a wonderful concept. Cemeteries as marble orchards. Notice, he didn't get the idea hunched over his desk, wringing his forehead, staring at a blank screen. He got it on a walk. In the fresh air. Past a cemetery.

Inspiration is closer than you think. It's just outside your door and around the corner. It's on the front page of the newspaper. It's in the dusty wardrobe in the upstairs room. It's on the other side of the looking glass.

Or in Stephen King's case, it's in the cell phone.

The entire premise for King's new book, Cell, is based around an everyday item. Of course, King turns it on its head. In the book, a mysterious phenomenon referred to as “The Pulse” infects the brains of anyone who happens to have their ear to a cell phone when the spike hits. At which point they become flesh-eating zombies. (This confirms all along what I've felt about cell phones and the people who own them.)

Have you noticed that novel ideas are often rooted in the mundane, the everyday, the ordinary? Sometimes, trivial facts can become springboards into oceans of ideas.

My friend and crit partner, Gina Holmes, runs a wonderful blog. If you haven't visited Novel Journey, please check it out. She recently interviewed best-selling author (and wildly creative guy) Bill Myers. When asked about the premise of his new series, he said this:

The new series is Soul Tracker. It takes the brain twelve minutes to die. They record the brain waves of about 1300 volunteers who are dying and are able to recreate the first twelve minute of death in a virtual reality computer. So, you can experience the first twelve minutes of death. You can go to Heaven. You can go to Hell or anywhere in between.

And this guy’s daughter committed suicide--he’s desperate to know where she is. So he enters the chamber...

What an incredibly original idea! But please take note: It started with a simple fact...and was followed by a what if?. Just like most good stories.

FACT: It takes the brain twelve minutes to die.

WHAT IF: Those twelve minutes were recorded...

FACT: X million people own cell phones.

WHAT IF: A mysterious signal was simultaneously sent through them...

Both facts are relatively simple. They were available to you and me. Yet those two authors stopped long enough to ask what if?. They spliced the facts with the what ifs...and we call it ingenuity.

Roger von Oech, author of A Whack on the Side of the Head, introduced the concept of soft thinking as a necessary ingredient in creativity. Whereas most academic thinking is 'hard', i.e. rigorous and focused, in order to be creative we need to switch to 'soft thinking'. Soft thinking is more playful, spontaneous and much less concerned with finding the answer.

Soft thinking is where the what ifs? emanate.

Sometimes I think we try too hard to be creative. We sit at the keyboard straining to squeeze that one novel nugget out of our constipated brainpan, only to wonder at the hapless turd that required so much energy.

William Nolan was walking by a graveyard. A normal graveyard. No different than ones you and I have seen. Stephen King was watching a woman on a cell phone, like women you've watched; and Bill Myers was reading a medical journal, like the one's at your dentist's office. But they all stopped long enough to ask, what if?

Let me suggest, your next big idea is not that far off. It's really very near. It's in the commonplace, the everday. Like Nolan said, it's in the "news stories, friends, family, dreams, trips." There's inspiration in the ordinary. We've just got to think soft and splice it...assemble the facts and ask, what if?.

Continued next post...

Inverted Ingenuity

2006-02-16T18:03:00.000-08:00

Betty Edwards' famous book, Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain, contains a wonderful series of exercises for people who think they can't draw. One of her assertions is that creativity is not something you're born with, as most assume; rather, it is a learned skill. Or, to be more precise, it's an unlearning skill. For example, one exercise she uses for the artistically challenged, is the upside-down drawing exercise. It goes like this:

Find a line drawing that you like. It can be the work of a master, a cartoon, anything.

Turn it upside down.

Now, without turning the page right-side up, draw what you see, trying to ignore the subject and focusing strictly on the lines, shades, spaces and proportions of the original.

So in other words, if you're creatively constipated, turn things upside down.

Ms. Edward's rationale is based upon brain research. The brain has two sides (though before 9 a.m. on weekends, neither of my family's sides appear to work), and various commands and characteristics emanate from one side or the other. The left brain thinks in concrete, linear terms, while the right is conceptual and non-linear. Left-brainers are logical; right-brainers are intuitive.

The bottom line is: Creativity flows from right-brain activity. When you have a burst of inginuity, when the lid of your mind's eye is yanked open, or two mutually exclusive ideas suddenly join hands and waltz across the parkay of your noodle, it started in your right hemisphere.

One of the obvious characteristics of great writers is this ability to see things with new eyes -- or to use a tired phrase, think outside the box. In brain parlance, it's writing with the right side of the brain. This ability to re-imagine, to reshuffle the deck of the ordinary, to part the veil of ho-hum that shrouds most modern novels, is essential for writers.

Donald Maass, in his excellent book. Writing the Breakout Novel, says this:

There certainly are no new plots. Not a one. There are also no settings that have not been used, and no professions that have not been given to protagonists. Although human nature may never change, our ways of looking at it will. To break out with familiar subject matter -- and, really, it has all been written about before -- it is essential to find a fresh angle.

To those of us with low-wattage mental light bulbs, these facts can be frustrating. Try as we might, we continue to regurgitate yesterday's best sellers, inflate leaky plotlines and repackage another unwanted white elephant.

I'm currently polishing my first novel, and as I go back through it I can see flashes of brilliance...and lotsa, let's say, 40 watt moments. I've been pondering Maass' call to "find a fresh angle," and it keeps bringing me back to this idea of learning creativity.

But how do we learn creativity? How do we pull ourselves out of the writing rut by our bootstraps? What happens when we read our manuscript or step away from the canvas, only to see the same-old, same-old? Where do we acquire fresh angles?

I've got some ideas stirring which I'd like to doodle about for a couple posts -- ideas that have to do with imagination, ingenuity, and that creative spark we're all trying to run down and bottle.

And in a way, I think it all goes back to this principle of inverting things...turning the real world on its head. According to Ms. Edwards, by doing the upside-down exercise, "you're disabling your left-brain, which can't see or handle such abstractions, and allowing your right-brain to do all the work." In theory, drawing upside-down pictures, disarms our normal mode of thinking and challenges us to see things differently -- in abstraction -- which is a right brain function.

I want to suggest that this drawing exercise is a template for "finding fresh angles." It's not a matter of doing something that has never been done, but looking at what is already there in a new way. If God has called you to write or draw or carve or act, then everything you need to be more creative -- more original -- is already at your disposal. All you need to do is...turn it upside down.

More next post...

Wringing Words

2006-02-09T19:28:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I'm not a poet. But Pablo Neruda was. He had a passion for words, kinda like me. But look how alive his are:

You can say anything you want, yes sir, but it is the words that sing; they soar and descend. I bow to them, I love them, I cling to them, I run them down, I bite into them, I melt them down. I love words so much: the unexpected ones; the ones I wait for greedily are stalked until, suddenly, they drop. Vowels I love: they glitter like colored stones, they leap like silver fish. They are foam, thread, metal, dew. I run after certain words. They are so beautiful I want to fit them all into my poem. I catch them in mid-flight as they buzz past. I trap them, clean them, peel them. I set myself in front of a dish: they have a crystalline texture to me: vibrant, ivory, vegetable, oily, like fruit, like algae, like agate, like olive. And then I stir them. I shake them, I drink them, I gulp them down, I garnish them, I let them go. I leave them in my poem like stalactites, like slivers of polished wood, like coal, pickings from a shipwreck, gifts from the waves. Everything exists in the word.

My toes are curled. Excuse me while I kiss the sky.

Lest you think my obeisance is unwarranted, the Bible seems to put great stock in words. God made the world with them, they have the power of life and death, and we are judged by the ones we speak. Furthermore, Scripture is called the Word as is the Savior of Mankind (Jn. 1:1).

It's a bit sobering to consider that, as writers, we are called to manage such precious, volatile, fragile commodities. Words are our stock in trade... and a temperamental bunch they are. Some words cannot stand each other, and we must be on guard to allow them their distance. Others plead for friends, begging for someone to complement them. Some are shy, others flamboyant; some are blue collar, everyday, while others are specialists, waiting for an hour on the stand. Search your manuscript friend, they're right there -- clashing, snoring, tapping their feet impatiently. If "everything exists in the word," as the poet said, then it's you, Dear Writer, who are called to bleed them of their essence.

So listen up. Can you hear it? That shrill peeling in the distance? It's not a bell. Or a siren. Or the whistle that signals the night crew from the dusty quarry. It's the sound of the writer at work. Wringing. Always wringing. Squeezing, stretching, slicing and extracting. Can you hear it? It's a wringing... the wringing of words.

Seasons' Dance

2006-02-08T05:15:00.000-08:00

This is my first poem in a long, long while. Okay, Robert Frost I'm not. But I like words, so I figured I'd set some in motion. You can direct your hate mail or concerns about poetic hackery to sit-on-it.com.

* * *

SEASONS’ DANCE
by Mike Duran

Seasons wash the daily chore
and dance outside the shuttered door,
entwine themselves around the mood—
when pressed to stay, they then elude.

Winter coldness death bespeaks,
parts the veil of spring, to greet
ageless warmth of summers’ peak,
autumns yawn in search of sleep.

Rooted in decomposition,
gorged upon the earth’s attrition;
reconstruct and bend the balance,
twilight’s blossom incandescence.

Souls of clay dissent in vain,
tilted skyward in refrain;
earthen orbit rents the trance
and sweeps them up within the dance.

INsites: Interview with Brett McCracken of Relevant

2006-02-02T18:50:00.000-08:00

Engaging the culture in meaningful, pertinent dialogue is essential to our Christian witness, and Relevant Mag does this as well as any Christian magazine. Brett McCracken is senior editor of the Progressive Culture segment of Relevant Online. I had a chance recently to ask Brett some question about Christians and pop culture, artistic integrity and the Great Commission, film and music, and well, bunches of stuff.

* * *

Mike: What is the vision—the motivating force—behind Relevant Magazine?

Brett: To provide a forum that fills a neglected hole in evangelical culture. That is, the dearth of serious, progressive engagement with culture (both secular and religious). Relevant is an attempt to revive the idea that Christianity really is relevant in the 21st Century. It is not some dead, old white men’s religion, but rather something alive and transformative. Relevant’s goals are in part evangelistic (re-connecting to the post-collegiate, religion-shunning twentysomething), but also reforming. The Church needs a reformation, revitalization, and fresh look at what is happening in the world, and how Christianity exists in the here and now.

M: In your article, A New Kind of Hipster, you said this: “We are to be a counterculture—in and not of the world, accepting yet not acquiescent, flexible but not compromising, progressive though not by the world’s standards.” What do you mean that Christians are to be flexible, not compromising, and progressive, but not by the world’s standards?

B: The phrase “flexible but not compromising” is an allusion to the postmodern challenge Christians face. Our culture is all about relative authority and a sort of “anything goes” morality. Our society says it is bigotry to speak out against sin, or “backwards” to proclaim the existence of absolute truth/morality. Christians have to stand up to this, obviously. That is the “not compromising” part. But we must also take a few pages from the postmodern book in that we need to be open to the idea that truth is not as concrete and stationary as Christians have often proclaimed. It exists, but we cannot assume we understand or know all of it. This is the “flexible” part…

“Progressive, but not by the world’s standards” refers to an idea that I take from Neil Postman, among others. He often made the point that society in the post-WWII era (actually, probably post-Enlightenment) has been defined by a faith in the “progress” of technological and cultural advances. That is, society has come to believe that progress believes in a future that MUST be better than the past; that new innovation and technology is always progressive. This has bred a larger feeling that progress is defined by righting the wrongs of the past (a past which, society says, is by nature flawed), whether it be doing away with prejudice, modernism, or inferior technology. I contend, however, that the Christian’s concept of progress has to be counter to that. To be sure, we must be knowledgeable and aware of the world around us, but we must look to the past (specifically Jesus Christ, and the historical Church he founded) for notions of how progress can be enacted. Jesus laid it all out- how to change the world for the better. Any true progress, for a Christian, must come from His example. We must look to the past in order to make a better future. Of course, “better” is a disputed term as well…

M: A common tension faced by Christians in the arts, has to do with artistic integrity versus getting the Gospel out. Where do you see that balance? Is the first objective of the Christian artist to get the message out or be true to the craft?

B: This issue has been in my thoughts a lot lately. I recently wrote an article on the C.S. Lewis / J.R.R. Tolkien relationship for Sacred History magazine. What struck me in researching the article was the different views the two authors took on the question of Christian art as artistic mastery vs. evangelical tool. The question could not be more relevant to the Church today.

Tolkien had a view that in many ways corresponds to his Catholic character: the craft of art, to him, is the foremost aim. Christian or religious themes will arise inherent in art if it is made superbly and honestly. In this sense, art is sacramental; the sacred idea or Christian notion is organically tied to the masterful craft itself. That is why Lord of the Rings, for example, is much less explicitly Christian than Lewis’s Narnia. On the other hand, Lewis believed in a more direct approach. He used allegory (Narnia, Space Trilogy) and clever apologetics (Screwtape Letters) in his fiction so as to make explicit the Christian message he was trying to convey.

Where do I fall on the matter? Well, though I am no Catholic, I tend to side with Tolkien’s view of art. That is, I feel like art in general (Tolkien spoke specifically of myth) possesses a disposition toward the sacred. If creation is a God-sanctioned act, then I believe it plausible that to create is by nature a spiritual act. God gave us this human-only distinctive, which is the ability to reflect on existence and communicate our thoughts to others. We are a community of people (humans) who relate to each other by expressing our own thoughts on Being, Time, Love, Death, and other mysteries.

I believe art, when it is honest, questioning, and captivating, has a unique and ineffable quality that leads us toward God. Art that seeks breeds “the search” in others, one that can only ever be truly fulfilled in GOD. All that to say that I think “in your face” art is unnecessary and counterproductive. Forced-feeding God or the Bible to others is bad enough, but doing it through “art” is even worse. It feels icky and unnatural because it is. Art has no political agenda. That is antithetical to its nature. Art is a search, and one that has been going on for millennia, across all cultures and epochs. The best of art has always, I believe, been so because it’s revealed truths or mysteries that feel true.

M: As the editor, you probably spend lots of time keeping up on current books, films and music. But you can’t possibly read/see/listen to them all. How do you do it?

B: It is hard to keep “up,” but I try to do the best that I can. I spend a lot of time surveying critical opinions and consensus on what is new and good in movies, music, books, etc. I have resources I trust more than others, and of course I take friends’ recommendations very seriously.

Having been an arts editor for nearly 4 years now has also helped. I’ve been exposed to a huge amount and variety of things, and I’ve developed (I believe) a good understanding of how a work stands out within its given medium. I’m always reading books, papers and magazines and investigating “buzzworthy” things, and while I by no means catch all the good stuff, I think I’ve come to a point where I have at least a cursory knowledge of most wave-making artists.

M: So far this year (November '05), what’s the best 1.) books, 2.) films, and 3.) music you’ve encountered?

B: Books: this is hard, because while I’m reading them constantly, I don’t read new-releases very currently. That said, I loved the new Harry Potter, and Anne Lamott’s new one, Plan B, is fantastic.

Films: My top five this year so far would be Broken Flowers, A History of Violence, Good Night & Good Luck, Mad Hot Ballroom, and Batman Begins.

Music: Again, top five so far: Sufjan Stevens, “Illinois,” Sigur Ros, “Takk,” Gorillaz, “Demon Days,” Rogue Wave, “Descended Like Vultures,” Common, “Be.”

M: What advice would you give to a young Christian who wants to seriously impact and engage their culture?

B: In whatever field you are interested, excel. It is as simple as that. Strive for excellence, because that—more than anything—will show the majesty of God. Our culture often does just enough to get by, or enough to be noticed. Create beautiful things, do big things for God and beyond your own purposes. People will see this difference and God will be glorified. To impact culture, you cannot treat culture as a target or something waiting to be grabbed and saved. Things that impact culture are those that ask the most interesting questions—that push culture in directions that the masses resonate with.

M: What’s your plans for the future? Where would you like to see yourself ministry-wise, in 10 years?

B: I’m applying to graduate programs right now for next Fall, so hopefully that’s where I’ll be this time next year. I’m looking at programs in the media studies/cinema areas, and I hope to study the relationships between Christians and media, and explore the notion of a “transcendent” or “holy” form in screen media. In ten years, I hope to be working in some sort of media field (whether newspaper, magazine, etc) as a writer or editor, covering culture. I’d also like to write books, and hope to get started with that as soon as possible. Being a thinking Christian who asks resonant questions and works toward productive answers that forward the cause of Christ: that is the ministry I want to be in the rest of my life.

* * *

Great stuff, huh? You can catch up with Brett over at the Progressive Culture segment of Relevant Magazine. You can also find one of Brett's most recent commentaries at Christianity Today online. Thanks again, Brett, for a great interview!

Truth Bites

2006-01-28T04:55:00.000-08:00

A lie may travel around the world, while the truth is still putting on her boots. But alas, the truth has arrived. That mighty rushing wind felt across the country these last few days, was not a great Nor'easter, but Oprah Winfrey's fierce backpedaling. I read with glee the article in yesterday's L.A. Times entitled, Winfrey Throws Book at Frey.

Unless you live under a rock, you're aware of the high-stakes literary drama surrounding Oprah Winfrey's endorsement of James Frey's A Million Little Pieces, and its subsequent debunking by The Smoking Gun, which has sent tsunami waves through the publishing industry. Here's how the Times framed it:

In an extraordinary live broadcast of "The Oprah Winfrey Show," the top-rated talk show host admitted that she "made a mistake" in backing Frey, whose harrowing account of his drug addiction and rehabilitation has been questioned by the Smoking Gun website and others. Winfrey had told CNN's Larry King two weeks ago when Frey was a guest on his show that despite allegations that the author had fabricated portions of his account, "the underlying message of redemption in James Frey's memoir still resonates with me."

On Thursday, a somber Winfrey said: "I left the impression that the truth does not matter, and I am deeply sorry about that. But that is not what I believe. And to everyone who has challenged me on this issue of truth, you are absolutely right."

Stop the presses! Attention all journalists and memoir-makers: Truth Matters.

Winfrey, at times visibly angry and tearful, asked Frey why he "felt the need to lie." The audience (many of whom probably purchased the book on Winfrey's recommendation) groaned and gasped at Frey's halting, stuttered admissions that certain facts and characters had been "altered" but that the essence of his memoir was real. "I don't think it is a novel," Frey said of his book, which had initially been offered to publishers, and rejected by many, as fiction. "I still think it's a memoir."

I must say, the pseudo-scholarly debates which have ensued about the differences between memoirs and novels, essential truth and factual truth are absurd. Still, many seem to believe that as long as something "resonates" within a person, facts are irrelevant.

But everywhere I turn, the truth is coming back to bite its detractors. Washington Post columnist, Richard Cohen, put it this way in his article Oprah's Grand Delusion:

Here is where Dr. Phil steps in. He might tell his friend and mentor (Oprah) that there is no redemption without honesty. Treatment, as one expert told me, begins with "owning your life" and not embellishing it for the sake of others or yourself. It was one thing when Frey's tale was believed to be 100 percent true. Now that the lie has been exposed, the message can no longer be about redemption but about concoction -- the lies that addicts tell others, the ones they tell themselves.

The gateway to healing, deliverance and recovery is honesty. How significant is it that a book by a supposed addict, which has purportedly helped so many recovering addicts, is based upon lies.

There's an old saying: The truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable. In Oprah's case -- and the case of her adoring patients -- the reverse was true: The truth set them free and THEN it made them miserable. In fact, it wasn't the truth at all. So were they really set free to begin with?

I think Oprah's somber admission that she was duped will bring her devotees closer to the truth than most of the psyco-babble crap she's ever endorsed. "I left the impression that the truth does not matter," she said, "and I am deeply sorry about that." Bravo Oprah! (Did I just say that?) Your confession "resonates" within me, babe. Thanks for reminding the world that truth bites.

Ménage

2006-01-27T06:59:00.000-08:00

From left to right: Jacob, my son-in-law and still-sulking Bronco fan; Melody, my oldest daughter and wannabe chef; Chris, oldest son, eligble bachelor, 1% body fat; Alayna, family princess, doesn't know what a dress is; Trisha, Jon's girlfriend and the nicest person you'll ever meet; and Jonathan, fisherman, bad golfer and Kobe-hater. And below we have Melody and our Dog-in-Law, Champ. (We have a thing for boxers.) Ain't he a beaut? She's substituted a grandbaby for a dog, which is hardly tolerable. But with those glowing eyes, he does bare a strange resemblance to me after twelve straight hours on the computer.

In Praise of Bad Reviews

2006-01-23T12:26:00.000-08:00

Most Christians do not write good book reviews. No, I don't mean they write negative reviews. I mean they don't write objective reviews, honest reviews. They write puff pieces. Don't believe me? Go to Amazon. Read some reviews of Christian fiction. Most of them are four or five stars. Unless the review is done by Publishers Weekly, most Christian reviewers seem to feel obligated to give good reviews to their brethren.

One of the most important steps I've ever taken as a writer, was to join a critique group. Having our work examined by other gifted people, is both the most frightening and rewarding experience we can have. Christians, more than anyone, should appreciate the value of honest critique. If the plot has holes, the characters are transparent and there's too many loose ends, I need to know. Why is it then, that published Christian authors are treated with kid gloves?

Maybe it's me but, good Christian reviewers and review sites seem few and far between. Now don't get your panties in a bunch. I'm not saying there's none. What I'm saying is that, for some reason, Christian reviewers are not that objective.

While reading reviews of The Visitation, the film version of Frank Peretti's best-selling book, one Christian blogger linked to this review. After reading this, I was fairly excited. It's a blessing to see Christians and a Christian worldview having a presence in Hollywood. And then I read Christianity Today's review. Here's some excerpts:

Well, it may be religious, but art it ain't. A more appropriate label might be … well, propaganda. Indeed, for its entire 140-minute running time, there's not a single glimmer of good storytelling—or even okay storytelling—to be found. The entire film reeks of shoddy craftsmanship, one long lead-in to the inevitable altar call at its conclusion.

By the time the end credits roll, we feel like we've just been preached at for the past couple of hours. That's what happens when you spend so much time with a bunch of cardboard cutouts, masquerading as characters and serving a piece of work that cares not for telling a meaningful story, but simply for teaching a simplistic lesson—a lesson that's conveyed so sloppily in the film's final act that I'm not even entirely sure I know what it was supposed to mean. Ever wonder why so many people just roll their eyes at the mention of religious art? Presenting Exhibit A.

Is this a bad review? Well, it depends upon how you read it. If it's an honest, objective review, then it's good. Bad reviews are ones that tell us a book or movie is "heart-stopping" and "jaw-dropping," when it ain't. If anybody should be able to tell the truth, it's Christians.

So why aren't they? I have some suggestions about why Christian reviews and reviewers are so milquetoast.

First, I believe there's a fundamental confusion about love and approval. Somehow, we think that a negative review is unloving. That's like saying I should never scold my kids, because they might think I hate them. The Bible commands us to "speak the truth in love" (Eph. 4:15). Speaking the truth can be painful, and is sometimes interpreted as vindictive and mean. But as long as we maintain the right spirit, we should be permitted to say a book/movie is boring, anti-climactic or uneven without being labeled a naysayer.

Second, I believe Christians are so eager to see the Gospel advanced that we're willing to wink at mediocre presentations of it. In other words, as long as the Visitation film gets in theaters or on TV, we're happy. But what if it's as bad as CT says? Is that the kind of messenger you want representing your faith?

Third -- and this is where it gets sticky -- most Christian reviewers are trying to break into/stay in the industry they're reviewing. If I'm hoping to sign with Publisher X, then giving X's authors a negative review could jeapordize my chances. So as a result, we pump out the praise, toss our objectivity out the window, smile and give the book five stars. CT can pan the movie because they're an established entity. It's the peons like me who need to watch what we say.

I don't know 'bout any of you, but if my book drags in parts, I want to know. If I leave too many loose ends, I want to know. If my characters are shallow, I want to know. If my book is really a two-and-a-half star, don't gimme five! Speak the truth in love. Then maybe my next book will be better.

I'd love to hear what you have to say on the topic. Just make sure it's not negative.

Infuze Anthology

2006-01-18T07:18:00.000-08:00

Hey, I'm excited to announce that my short story, Someone in the Circle, was chosen as one of ten short stories to be printed in the Infuze Magazine Anthology. This is Infuze's first such book and my first story in actual print, so I'm really jazzed. You can buy the book here if you're interested. (Note: Authors will not be paid as a result. But supporting Infuze might lead to a Second Annual anthology next year.)

Religious Fettuccini

2006-01-18T04:52:00.000-08:00

I recently spoke to two Mormon missionaries on my doorstep. When dialoguing with Mormons, I usually try to steer the conversation by asking this question: How do you know Mormonism is true? That's a reasonable question and one which Mormons are usually excited to answer. But it's a setup, and points to a fundamental flaw in their religion.

According to Mormonism, if a person prays about the Book of Mormon "with a sincere heart... he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost" (Book of Mormon, Moroni 10:4). If this is done, "your bosom shall burn within you" as confirmation of its truth (Doctrine and Covenants, 9:8). In other words, Mormons believe Mormonism is true because they have a personal conviction, a subjective revelation, a burning bosom.

Not only is this thinking flawed, it permeates our entire culture. Nowadays, people believe things are true, not because they can be objectively verified or proven, but because they can be passionately felt. This is the rotten fruit of relativism.

You've heard the saying, What's true for you, is not true for me. In some cases, that statement is accurate. Is it true that Fettuccini Alfredo is the best dish on earth? Well, to me it is. But that issue ultimately has to do with personal tastes, rather than objective facts. Now, is it true that little green men serve Fettuccini Alfredo on the darkside of the moon every Thursday night (PST)? No. Well, how do I know that? Because there's enough objective evidence about the moon -- its history, topography, inhabitability -- to sufficiently rule out the possibility. Earth's telescopes have scanned the moon for decades with nary a noodle sighted.

But what if my bosom burns within me? What if I have a dream or an overwhelming personal conviction that Green Cheese Cafe is open for business this Thursday, with a steaming hot plate of Fettuccini Alfredo waiting for me. Does this make it true?

The story is told about the day Abraham Lincoln debated a relativist. In pressing the man's illogical assertions, Lincoln asked, "Would you agree a cow has four legs?" "Of course," huffed the detractor. "What then if we agree to call the cow's tail a leg? Would then a cow have five legs?" The man thought for a moment, then replied, "Yes. If we agree that the tail is a leg, then cows have five legs." Lincoln replied, "No amount of debate and definition can turn a tail into a leg."

Burning bosoms, passionate dialogue and sincerity do not define truth. Factual correspondence, logic and evidence does.

When my Mormon friends go into their spiel about burning bosoms and personal convictions, I usually proceed along these lines: Do you believe the world is round? (Which, after a moment of hesitation and skepticism they must answer, Yes) Well, what if I believe the world is flat? In fact, I believe it so sincerely that I have prayed about it, received a burning bosom and am now an official member of The Flat Earth Society. This usually puts them in a bind. The point is obvious: No amount of belief can make the world flat; no amount of sincerity can make a tail a leg; no amount of conviction can make a religion true.

Now, here's the hinge of the discussion -- and the point where most people err: Christianity is more about objective facts than personal preferences. Most people think of religion as they do Fettuccini Alfredo. Religion is a matter of taste, they say, of personal preference. In other words, religious truth and scientific / historic truth are two different things.

This is what's so cool about Christianity, and one of the main reasons I abandoned my former beliefs in favor of it. Christianity's central claims are built upon objective, historically verifiable evidence. The life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ are historic events which changed the course of history. You can see where He walked, where He preached, where He died and where His body once laid. Christianity is founded upon the Person of Christ; His ressurection is what separates Him from every other religious leader. Unless you're out to rewrite the evidence, it's indisputable. A small, ragtag group of Jewish misfits changed the world. How? Because of a lie? Because of a burning bosom? No because they physically heard and saw and touched Him (I Jn. 1:1-3), and poured out their lives, even unto death. It was far more than personal preferences that led them to the slaughter.

The Bible is the most authentic ancient historic manuscript in the world. We have far more archeological evidence of the Bible's factuality than any other historic document. It's reliability has been proven time and again. It's prophetic accurancy is stunning, predicting thousands of years beforehand about the coming of Christ, His life and death and return to earth, the fate of the Jewish people and the end of our age. Thousand of years ago, Scripture predicted the Middle East would usher in the Apocalypse. Here we are in 2006 with the Iran threatening to nuke the Jewish state. Coincidence?

Finally, the Bible's assessment of the human condition is coherent and frighteningly relevant. Though some firmly believe humans are essentially good and have it in themselves to create a utopia, our experience proves otherwise. Violence, crime, murder and hatred escalate, just as Scripture predicts (II Timothy 3:1-2). We live like kings and queens, fallen from our thrones, wandering the earth in search of our former glory. The Bible calls this sin, separation from God; it cripples each of us, and no matter how much we deny its presence, our existence carries the ugly stamp. Only as we concede these facts and surrender to Him, can we alter our plight and find peace.

How do I know Christianity's true? Not because I have a burning bosom or a strong conviction, but because of the facts. Conviction cannot make the world flat. Belief cannot make a religion right. Sincerity cannot make something true. Unless we're talking about Fettucini.

The Dread Factor

2006-01-10T17:59:00.000-08:00

Last month, scientists announced that an asteroid named 2004 MN4 was on a possible trajectory to impact the earth on April 13, 2029. At first, the odds were slim -- about a 1-in-300 chance. But the more observations rolled in, the more the odds increased. It was quickly upgraded from a 1-in-63 chance to a 1-in-45. Right now, the chances of an impact stand at about 1-in-40, or 2.6 percent. The asteroid threat is now considered so serious that Congress has been requested to investigate.

But as usual, life goes on for Planet Earth. Between the drugs, the internet and reality television, Americans have plenty to keep them preoccupied. After all, who wouldn't rather watch the season premiere of the Bachelor, than obssess over impending disaster.

Apparently, a 1-in-40 chance is not enough to ruffle the general public. As a result, reports of the asteroid have been limited to scientific circles and geek blogs. Why? For most of us, it's too far off, too big to wrap our mind around and we're too numb to care. In technical terms, this is called Risk Perception. The theory states that societies attach certain levels of risk or indifference to specific threats. More recently this has been called, the Dread Factor. The more potentially dreadful, devestating or personally threatening a risk appears, the more we take notice.

And this is where our affinity for statistics kicks in. Americans love to play the numbers. So let's do that, shall we?

The Harvard Center for Risk Analysis has compiled in-depth statistical data on causes of death. (Oh, goody!) Listed below are the chances you have of dying from a specific risk in your lifetime.

Chance of being murdered - 1-in-15,440
Chance of drowning - 1-in-64,031
Chance of being struck by lightening - 1-in-4,478,159
Chance of being killed in a bicycle accident - 1-in-376,165
Chance of contracting Alzheimers - 1-in-5752
Chance of getting terminal cancer - 1-in-511
Chance of dying of heart disease - 1-in-397
Chance of dying in a bioterrorist attack - 1-in-56,424,800

Since I'm on a roll: Gambling experts tell us that the odds of getting a royal flush are, 1-in-649,739, the chances of winning the California SuperLotto is 18,009,460 to 1, and the chances of the L.A. Lakers winning the title this year are 1-in-35. (Much less if they play the Miami Heat.)

So let's put this in perspective. The chances that earth will be struck by asteroid 2004 MN4, are a lot greater than the chances of you dying of heart disease, being murdered, getting a royal flush, being killed by anthrax or winning the state lottery. Hmm...

Apparently, we have developed a high tolerance for the Dread Factor. Earthquakes, terrorist attacks and bird flu don't seem to phase us. That is, until they're on our doorstep -- at which point we berate the government for not airlifting us to safety (think Katrina). Americans live in a type of inebriated tecnological daze, hypnotized by our iPods and spinning hubcaps, a pollyanna-ish dreamworld as detached from reality as Oz was Kansas. Within this media-induced cocoon, the Dread Factor is seldom an issue.

But, if you're into numbers, let me give you the mother-of-all numbers: One out of every one dies. This painful bit of info has been called the ultimate statistic.

Chances of us getting thwumped by an asteroid in 2029 is slim. Not impossible, just remote. But the chances of you dying some day, is absolute. You can take it to the bank. Scripture puts it this way:

It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment. (Heb. 9:27)

You've got an appointment. You might get there through cancer, anthrax or a lightening strike. Heck, you might drop dead from winning the lotto. But it's an appointment you can't reschedule or refuse. It's the ultimate statistic.

If only the Dread Factor kicked in sooner, death might not take so many of us by surprise. Oh well, as long as we've got the TV changer and text messaging, asteroids are of no concern. Of course, a mini-series might help...

A Great Lake of Beer

2006-01-04T17:48:00.000-08:00

Celtic poem from 10th century Ireland:

I would like to have the men of Heaven
In my own house:
With vats of good cheer
laid out for them.

I would like to have the three Marys,
Their fame is so great.
I would like people
From every corner of Heaven.

I would like them to be cheerful
In their drinking.
I would like to have Jesus too
Here amongst them.

I would like a great lake of beer
For the King of Kings,
I would like to be watching Heaven's family
Drinking it through all eternity.

* * *

Many would cringe at the thought of associating beer with Jesus. The Irish Celts didn't. In fact, one of the highest forms of celebration they could conceive, was to offer "a great lake of beer, for the King of Kings" and to watch "Heaven's family drinking it through all eternity."

I grew up in an alcoholic home, so I understand the damage that drinking can do. Nevertheless, I think it's pretty clear that the Bible does not prohibit drinking. There's many passages to choose from, but one of my favorites is from the Psalms:

[God] makes grass grow for the cattle, and plants for man to cultivate -- bringing forth food from the earth: wine that gladdens the heart of man, oil to make his face shine, and bread that sustains his heart. (Ps. 104:14-15 NIV)

Endless turf wars arise amongst Christians concerning drinking, and I have no intention to start one. However, it's pretty clear God condemns "drunkenness" not "drinking." Where drinking leads to drunkenness and a life consumed by it, it is sin.

But to me, the issue goes deeper than alcoholic beverages. The verse above says that "wine... gladdens the heart of man." When Scripture speaks of drinking, it often connects it with gladness and celebration. For instance, Zech. 10:7 says that when God saves His people, their hearts shall be glad as with wine. Ecclesiastes 9:7 says "Go, eat your food with gladness, and drink your wine with a joyful heart, for it is now that God favors what you do" (NIV). And of course, Jesus turned water to wine at a party (Jn. 2). In the simplest sense, God gave us wine so we could laugh.

I've come to believe that Christians have as much problem with laughter as they do with drinking. So it's no wonder the two are connected. During the "Holy Laughter" phase of the charismatic movement in the early 90's, I visited several services where the phenomenon was supposedly ocurring. Holy laughter was believed to be a spontaneous outbreak of unbridled joy, usually accompanied by... laughter. Riotous laughter. Unfettered laughter. Tears-streaming-down-your-face, side-splitting laughter. Many of the services were quite chaotic. Whatever you happen to believe about this stuff (and there's many good reasons to be skeptical of it), I happened to believe that Christians need a good laugh, so I was a tad less critical.

Down through the centuries, Christians have frowned on laughter. By the 4th century, church leader John Chrysostom declared that Jesus never laughed. This is why many medieval paintings portray Jesus as serene and always sober. Christendom's sense of humor didn't improve much over the next millennium. In the 1400s, the Council of Constance decreed that any minister or monk who spoke "jocular words such as to provoke laughter" would be damned to hell. Wow! This laughter is serious business.

Seems laughter has always carried a stiff sentence in the Church. Charles Spurgeon was often criticized for his use of humor. On one occasion, he answered one of his critics by saying, "Ma'am, if you knew how much I held back, you'd commend me." But the Church is still full of gloom-inducing Pharisees. H. L. Mencken once defined a Puritan as someone with the haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy. It's sad, but many still view Christians as sourpusses -- stern, cheerless guardians of the stiff upper lip.

A Gallup poll once found that half of all Americans thought that Jesus was not fun-loving. There is considerable debate, as to whether or not Jesus really laughed. I mean, the Bible never says He did. But then the Bible never specified a lot of actions Jesus did. Did He ever trim His nails, wash behind His ears and cut His nose hairs? We know Jesus liked to party -- and parties are usually about... laughter. His first miracle not only involved alcohol, but it occured at a party. I cannot imagine the Son of God sitting there stone-faced, can you? He frolicked with little children (Matt. 19:13-15), something which is hard to do without, at least, a giggle. In his 1964 classic "The Humor of Christ," Elton Trueblood suggests that we cannot begin to understand Christ's life and teaching, without acknowledging the joy and wit and humor He brought to this world. So great was His mirth and celebration, Jesus was accused of being a glutton and a drunk (Luke 7:33-34).

One of the greatest days in Church history, was the day God's people were accused of being drunk. The Holy Spirit descended and a party ensued (Acts 2); thousands of new Christians "broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people" (2:46-47). Amidst the tongue-speaking, foot-stomping, rip-roaring revival, the only possible explanation was, "They have had too much wine" (vs. 13). I wish Christians were accused of being drunk more often -- so full of the Spirit, that laughter and joy and mirth flowed from our homes and churches, into a broken world, making people scratch their heads... and yearn to join in. As the band Delirious puts it in their song, Did You Feel the Mountains Tremble:

Open up the doors and let the music play,
Let the streets resound with singing;
Songs that bring Your hope
Songs that bring Your joy,
Dancers who dance upon injustice.

Sorry, but I'm with the Celts on this one: I would like a great lake of beer for the King of Kings, and I would like to be watching Heaven's family drinking it through all eternity.

My Family Tree

2005-12-30T07:10:00.000-08:00

I've never much cared for blogs that are like daily journals, where lots of mundane information and details are disseminated. You know, "Today I got a hangnail. But my clippers were broke so I had to rush to the local mini-mart and stand behind a lady with a crying baby with a snot bubble and a guy in a greasy jean jacket buying a six-pack and some lotto tickets. As I drove home, I almost hit a dog, which got me to thinking about the meaning of life and death..."

Now, if you happen to like those types of blogs, that's cool. I understand that some people use them for journaling and things like that. I've never cared for that tedium and vowed when I started this blog that ramblings about my daily life, what kinds of underwear I prefer (boxers or briefs?), or how often I floss, is not a subject of conversation. So I'm kinda breaking my rule by posting this picture.

In this picture are the five most important people in my life. This photo was taken a couple of Christmases ago, but it holds a special place in my mind and on my mantle. Since then, Melody (middle row, left) my oldest daughter got married, moved out and became a real estate professional. Chris, (bottom row, left) is in the final year of his math degree. Jon, (bottom row, right) started EMT training and, more importantly, got a girlfriend. Alayna, (top of the tree) reached her senior year of high-school, A-student and boyfriend-free. And me and Lisa have fallen more deeply in love.

As we reach the end of 2005, I am reflective, like many upon the course of my life and all its blessings. I started this blog at the end of July, as part of my journey to pursue writing. It has been a thrilling year; the Lord has blessed my work and my family so much. I am so thankful! Thanks, Lisa. I love you! You and me are a perfect fit. Thanks, kids (including Jacob, my son-in-law. Sorry you didn't make the picture). You guys are the best kids a Dad could ever wish for! Thanks to my Penwright friends (critique partners). You've sent me on this writing journey with the wisest, most joyful counsel. And thanks to the community of writers, friends and soon-to-be-friends who visit this blog. You are a great blessing to me! Happy 2006 and grace to all!

Now, about those underwear...

Short Story Finalist

2005-12-27T05:47:00.000-08:00

Hey, I can finally lift the lid. Dave Long, acquisitions editor for Bethany House Publishing, informed me the end of October that my short story, When Bill Left the Porch, was selected as a finalist for his contest. I was asked to sit on the info for the last couple of months, so I'm pretty jazzed that Dave has started to get things rolling.

Yesterday, he unveiled the first of the stories at his Faith in Fiction blog. For the next two weeks, he'll be announcing the finalists and, I guess, discussing the stories and what made them finalists. The stories were also forwarded to the arts editor of a respected online Christian arts journal for consideration for their next issue. But where it goes from there is anybody's guess.

This whole process is interesting for several reasons. (1) It's refreshing to see different angles brought to a familiar subject. I know that's what I attempted to do in my story and I'm assuming that most of the tales will have a non-traditional, unconventional approach. This ability to put a unique spin on a tired, redundant theme, seems pivitol to publication today. (2) This gives us a window into what kind of story and style catches the eye of an editor. Let's face it, those of us seeking publication must be able to get the attention of someone who reads probably thousands of stories each year. This is no easy task and one we must labor greatly to achieve. (3) It is wonderful to see an assemblage of talented, aspiring Christian authors on one stage. Some day, these finalists may become voices in the writing community, representatives of the Greatest Story Ever Told. It is heavy on my heart that Christian artists will, one day, be at the forefront of the arts -- wise, persuasive, hip and gifted artisans for the Master. May this contest and all our endeavors work toward this end.

So if you get a chance, head on over to Faith in Fiction and follow the stories the next two weeks. Grace and Peace to you and yours this holiday season!

The Bomb Under the Sofa

2005-12-22T12:44:00.000-08:00

A couple walks on stage, sits on a couch and begins talking. She says he's stopped caring. He says she's insecure. Blah, blah, blah. Before long, the audience is yawning and nodding off. Rewind the scenario. A man sneaks on stage, plants a ticking time bomb under the couch, and slithers away. Then the couple walks out, sits down and has the exact same conversation. But the audience is now riveted.

This simple illustration was employed by Wells Root, an old Hollywood screenwriter, in his book Writing the Script, to note the importance of conflict in storytelling. Conflict has a way of making even the most mundane activity more intereresting.

As a novice writer, I am learning the importance -- no, necessity! -- of introducing conflict into my stories. People just do not pay attention unless there's a bomb under the sofa... or some equivalent. In television and film, this is called a plot point . It's an action, event or tidbit of information that creates obstacles, raises the stakes, or complicates things for a protagonist. Supposedly, in most films made in the United States, the first major plot point happens at almost precisely 26 minutes of run-time.

Conflict is often divided into two parts: Internal conflict and External conflict. In other words, not only should the protagonist be sitting on a time bomb, she should be one.

Donald Maass, author of Writing the Breakout Novel, puts it this way:

Every protagonist needs a torturous need, a consuming fear, an aching regret, a visible dream, a passionate longing, an inescapable ambition, an exquisite lust, an inner lack, a fatal weakness, an unavoidable obligation, an iron instinct, an irrisistible plan,a noble ideal, an undying hope...

These are the internal time bombs that make characters interesting. Of course, we can identify with them because most of us burn with angst and regret and disillusionment, to varying degrees. When we combine these volatile people with difficult situations, things get interesting. The writer's job is not just to create explosive characters, but to place them in contexts where their volatility is tapped.

Maass again:

Trials and tests are the stuff of character building, of conflict. Ask yourself, who is the one ally your protagonist cannot afford to lose? Kill that character. What is your protagonist's greatest physical asset? Take it away. What is the one article of faith that for your protagonist is sacred? Undermine it. How much time does your protagonist have to solve the main problem? Shorten it.

In other words, stack the deck.

I'm ruminating on this writerly routine, because I recently witnessed it in action. This is not a review of Peter's Jackson's, King Kong, but P.J. sure knows how to stack the odds against his hero. In this case, Kong. The likeable giant ape fights numerous foes in the new film. But the sequences in which K. battles the T. Rex are some of the most incredible CGI footage ever. Unbelievable! (If only the whole movie were that good.) Anyway, in the orginal 1933 version, Kong also fought the maneater. But Jackson puts his own unique twist on the dreaded standoff. He pits the ape, not against one T. Rex, or two. But three. And it doesn't stop there. The skirmish sends all of them, including Kong's lady-friend, tumbling into a chasm where they become suspended in prehistoric vines. So here we have King Kong fighting three dinosaurs and trying to protect his woman, while swinging precariously between a canyon. Talk about upping the ante!

See, it's not enough to pit your hero against a villain. The villain must be elastic, invisible or an anguished Dodger fan. Furthermore, the hero must be handicapped: shot in the arm, temporarily blinded or missing a prosthetic leg. But don't stop there. The two can fight on a sinking submarine, in a burning oil refinery or at the MTV music awards between two opposing rapper's entourages. Hey, let your imagination run wild. Just don't forget to put the time bomb under the sofa.

War Stories

2005-12-16T18:43:00.000-08:00

Shortly after the release of The Return of the King, the final installment in Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings trilogy, radio talk show host Dennis Prager parodied an interview with former U.S. President Jimmy Carter. Carter has become known as a human rights activist, a vocal critic of the war in Iraq and a pacifist. In the mock interview, Carter suggested the blockbuster film sends dangerous messages to the world's young people. He stressed that war is not the answer. Instead, the Nobel Peace Prize laureate encouraged "compassion for Mordor."

I don't know if President Carter has weighed in yet on the climactic battle sequences in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. But if he's consistent, he may want to suggest an alternate ending. Perhaps, instead of sacrificing Himself, Aslan could begin a round of "peace talks" with the White Witch and negotiate a treaty with her hungry wolves.

Narnia and The Lord of the Rings films are often mentioned in the same breath. And for good reason. Both stories are fantasies that involve large scale battles between good and evil. They were written by friends and contemporaries and have become cultural landmarks. Of course, C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien's worlds were informed by their religion. But another, often overlooked factor contributes to the strength of those stories.

Both Lewis and Tolkien were soldiers.

Tolkien was sent to active duty on the Western Front and served in the Lancashire Fusiliers, the most-decorated British unit in the war. After four months in and out of the trenches, he succumbed to "trench fever", a typhus-like infection common in the insanitary conditions, and was sent back to England. Lewis chose to volunteer for active duty in World War I and served in the British Army, fighting in the muddy trenches of northern France.

It probably goes without saying, but the impact of this war -- the clashing of superpowers, the loss of life, the defense of virtue -- had tremendous influence upon the stories they would later tell.

There's a sense that conflict, temptation and adversity, always bring out the highest and noblest in people. Of course, this is not to trivialize war or diminish the sacrifices made for land and loved. I am simply suggesting that the richness and trenscendence of those stories is due, in part, to the battlefield. If Tolkien and Lewis had never served with a band of brothers, defended something they loved, fired on enemy troops and watched their friends die in combat, these stories could have never been written.

These ideas grate on post-modern man for two reasons. First, it implies that some wars are necessary (which rankles pacifists). Second, it implies real Good and Evil (which chafes relativists).

If Tolkien was a pacifist, rather than fight the Orcs, Aragorn would negotiate a land-for-peace deal, use the One Ring to barter with Saruman, and Gandhalf would become a diplomat to Mordor and the Orcian State. If Lewis was a relativist, Edmund would have broken no Moral Law and never needed rescued; Aslan could have spared Himself from dying and Narnia would begin a golden age of tolerance toward witches.

As long as there is real Good and Evil, war is necessary. As long as there is a real Devil, we must stand against him. As long as there is genuine Darkness, Light must be sought. As long as there are Bad People, Good People must arise. These are the stakes of all good stories, the necessary components of all great storytelling.

Oswald Chambers put it this way:

The old Puritan idea that the devil tempts men had this remarkable effect, it produced the man of iron who fought; the modern idea of blaming his heredity or his circumstances produces the man who succumbs at once.

The problem with modern man and his storytelling, is that there's no more Devil. The Hitlers and Sadaam Husseins of the world are people we must "understand" or "appease," not destroy. Nowadays, the only Truth worth standing up for is your own "personal truth" -- and you better not infringe on anyone else's in the process. In the age of postmodernism, the only real Temptation, is the temptation to see things black and white. But however you look at it, these concepts produce weak stories and spineless storytellers.

Tolkien and Lewis were soldiers and their stories were war stories. The war was physical, it involved armies and armaments. But behind the swords and spears was another War -- a battle for Goodness, Morality and Virtue. If it's true that struggle and adversity are grist for the mill of stories, then as writers, we can expect God will allow us our share of battles. And all of our stories will be, in some way, War Stories.

Life without Condoms

2005-12-11T15:48:00.000-08:00

When it comes to Christianity, believing in miracles is par for the course. In a way, it's a no-brainer. I mean, if God can form the world out of nothing, then I reckon He can do just about anything else He wants: walk on water, divide large bodies of water, or turn water into wine. So as you'd expect, the Bible is full of miracles, from start to finish; events that defy laws and transcend definition. Some are even kind of wacky. Like the time Jesus paid the temple tax by sending His disciples fishing.

Take the first fish you catch; open its mouth and you will find a four-drachma coin. Take it and give it to them for My tax and yours. (Matt. 17:27 NIV)

This is a tad unusual, wouldn't you agree? Paying taxes was a common practice, but most folks did not have the luxury of performing a miracle to do so. Surely there were other ways for Jesus to do this. He could have taken up a collection, multiplied more loaves and fish and held a bake sale or caused the IRS to make a mistake in His favor (a true miracle indeed!) Heck, He could've just told the disciples to get a side job and earn the money. But no. Jesus sent them fishing.

If you've been around any length of time, you've heard your share of wacky miracles. So the story I read several weeks ago is probably not that shocking. It was reported in a local newspaper. The caption read: Church Claims a Mouthful of Miracles. Subtitled, If Jesus could turn water into wine, why wouldn't God turn teeth to gold?. It recounts an incident in a small Pentecostal church wherein 15 members claim their teeth or fillings have miraculously turned to gold.

I usually wince when I read this kind of stuff. I didn't say I blow it off. I just don't do the Jericho March and join the Hallelujah chorus. How people respond to these kinds of claims says a lot about their theology. I believe it's just as wrong to embrace every supposed miracle, as it is to deny every one; uncritical belief is just as bad as unbelief. We must avoid both extremes.

On one side is Thomas Jefferson. Jefferson had a hard time intellectually digesting the miracles in the gospels, so he removed them. What was left has been called the Jefferson Bible. It’s a Bible without miracles. There are many modern variations of this. But the bottom line is the same: It's a spiritual condom; it's belief in God, with protection against the supernatural. These folks want God without the mess -- specifically, no weird miracles. On the other side, are the more Charismatic and Pentecostal wings of the church (of which I'm a part). These are the sectors where prophesies, visions and miracles are commonplace, where every other word is a "word from God" and miracles can be purchased with a "tithe offering." Both extremes should be avoided.

Whenever we approach this subject, the question is never Can God? but Did God? Can God turn 15 fillings into gold? No brainer. Yes! Did God turn 15 fillings into gold? Hmm. I dunno. Of course, some will call me cynical, faithless and unbelieving. And I admit, I could be. What I'm trying to do is allow for the possibility of miracles -- even weird ones -- without having to box God in, arbitrate or be completely gullible. I think of this as critical faith.

Do not put out the Spirit's fire; do not treat prophecies with contempt. Test everything. Hold on to the good. (I Thessalonians 5:19-21 NIV)

We are to "test everything" -- that means we shouldn't blindly assume that every supposed miracle is an act of God. But here's the kicker. In all our testing, we must not "put out the Spirit's fire." KJV translates that, "quench not the Holy Spirit." There's the balance. Test, but don't quench. Be critical, but not unbelieving.

As long as miracles are possible, plenty of weird, wacky, unexplained ones will happen. And this is what people don't like. They want to box God in, slip a spiritual condom on so they don't contract Pentecostalism. It's easier to just believe God doesn't do miracles, than to sift through all the stupid claims people make. But the fact is, God can do whatever He wants, and He doesn't have to abide by the rules or explain Himself to me.

In a world where people are starving, children are abused and communities live in constant poverty and despair, I seriously doubt that gold fillings are at the top of God's agenda. What's worse, is when churches become preoccupied with seeking visions, prophecies and gold fillings, rather than helping the poor, righting injustice and defending the truth.

But even in the face of fakery and emotionalism, we cannot surrender our belief in the possibilities of the miraculous. We are called to life without condoms, where the Spirit is free to move, where the dead rise, jackasses speak and fishes contain coins. Test but don't quench; be critical, but not unbelieving. Go ahead. And the next time you brush your teeth, make sure to check your fillings.