Easter, or else

Spending a day in the ER clarifies. Behind the (mostly) smiling professionalism a grim reality. Keeping the Destroyer at bay. The banality of chest pain alerts, IV's and blood draws. Pain and death. The great levelers. Someone you love and anonymous strangers. Thrown together. Not for me vapid platitudes. Pain is my sworn enemy. Death is Satan's suicidal Hail Mary. Jesus! Oh Death where is thy sting? The seeds of your final defeat are ripening. I dance on your grave. Driving home (it's late). The homeless man hunched in the dark intersection as cars whiz by. No hope! Busiest intersection in Palm Beach County. Another victim of the Fall. This world sucks! But we get to go home. Air conditioned and cozy. Wine and ale to console the heart. Kiss the tears away. Surprised by joy again. Life is grand. But life sucks. But life is grand. Am I schizophrenic? I think not. The Apostle was struck down but not defeated, sorrowful yet always rejoicing. How can that make sense? The hope of the resurrection. "A crutch for the weak", sneers the philosopher. Yeah I'm weak and crippled. If not for the empty tomb I'd shoot myself. Give me the risen Christ or give me nihilism.

Behold, I am making all things new!

Lord, give us a song in the painful night and sustain us thru the grim tomorrow. Come to us as the showers, as the spring rains that water the earth. The high countries beckon.

He is risen! He is risen indeed!


(Originally posted in 2007)

The gift of a happy childhood

This morning as I backed out of the driveway to go to work I caught sight of my almost-Kindergartener Samuel with his face pressed against the window waving goodbye. I was instantly struck by a bout of "mono no aware" and transported back to my own pre-adolescent childhood and memories tinged with sadness and regret. Mono no what? This recycled post from January 2011 explains it. . .




Becoming a parent has produced a sudden awareness of my mortality. I'm also beginning to realize that I have less control than I thought I had -- or like to think I have -- over Samuel and Benjamin's future. So much is out of my hands! But there is something. A happy childhood is no guarantee of a happy life (and as a Christian I have higher aspirations for my children than mere happiness) but giving them a happy childhood is something I do have a great deal of control over right now.

I was moved by these lines from author Alison Gopnik (The Philosophical Baby):

Parents often feel a kind of existential anxiety as they watch their children grow up—as we say, it goes by so fast. We watch that infinitely flexible, contingent, malleable future swiftly harden into the irretrievable, unchangeable past. Japanese poets have a phrase, mono no aware, for the bittersweetness inherent in ephemeral beauty—a falling blossom or a leaf in the wind. Children are a great source of mono no aware.

But there is another side to the ephemerality of childhood. There is a kind of immunity about a happy childhood, not an immunity from the disasters and catastrophes that may, that almost certainly do, lie ahead, but an intrinsic immunity. Change and transience are at the heart of the human condition. But as parents we can at least give our children a happy childhood, a gift that is as certain, as unchanging, as rock solid, as any human good. 

Gopnik writes from a naturalistic worldview, so, naturally, there were things I disagreed with in her book, but overall I found it to be an illuminating glimpse into the minds of baby humans. I enjoyed the movie references sprinkled throughout (the author must be a film buff). At one point she suggests that the unself-conscious consciousness of infants is like that of an adult watching an absorbing Hitchcock film. "For a baby, watching a Mickey Mouse mobile may be like being utterly, blissfully, selflessly captivated by a good movie."

Sounds like a great life!
 

Quotes from p. 121 & 202:  The Philosophical Baby: What Children's Minds Tell Us About Truth, Love, and the Meaning of Life (Picador, 2009)

Photo of our two sons taken 1/12/11

Hope for the New Year

Are you optimistic or pessimistic going into 2014? Is the glass half-full or half-empty? Earlier today I posed this question to the lady that cuts my hair. She didn't give a clear answer, but she did offer that "this country is going down the drain" (she's no fan of Obama) and that "all you can do is take care of your family." Her attitude tracks with a new poll that indicates most American are pessimistic about the ability of our leaders to solve the big problems facing America, but at the same time feel pretty good about how their own lives are going.

That's about where I am too. I see lots of reasons for gloom in Washington and the world at large, but I'm optimistic that the year ahead will be mostly positive for me and my family. I'm also optimistic that 2014 will see further growth and flourishing in my church family. Which brings me to my main question. How should followers of Jesus approach the New Year?

I once heard someone say (it might have been Tim Keller) that Christians are short-term pessimists and long-term optimists. From Abraham to the Apostle Paul the witness of Scripture shows us that the life of faith usually means things get worse before they get better, and the Bible is clear that following God as he's revealed to us in Christ means we will suffer. It's part of the deal. In fact -- as Pastor Dan reminded us last Sunday in a sermon on 2 Timothy 1 -- if we're not willing to suffer for the gospel we're in danger of abandoning the gospel.

While the "suffering piece" might be hard for the American church to accept, it's not hard for the persecuted church in Egypt or Syria or Iraq. Indeed, as the atheist-turned-believer A.N. Wilson wrote on Christmas Day: "the Arab Spring was the Christian winter." For our brothers and sisters whose churches are being bombed it's impossible to be anything but pessimistic about the near future, but if the gospel is true then their persecution "is preparing for us [believers in the gospel] an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal." (2 Corinthians 4:17-18)

Is the Christmas story true, or is it just a lot of sentimental claptrap? Is Christianity the stuff of a bygone age or does it still have the power to transform lives and bring genuine reason for hope and optimism? How one answers those questions changes everything (though one must admit that here in the West it's possible to conceive of a low-cost low-risk faith that goes about as far as the Jesus fish on the back of my SUV).

Here are the final paragraphs of Wilson's brilliant piece "It's the Gospel truth - so take it or leave it".


Huge numbers of people clapping in a square – even if they are clapping the Pope – do not tell you anything about whether Christianity is actually true. Nor does the dwindling congregation at the 8 o’clock Communion at Much-Binding-in-the-Marsh undermine the truth of the Word Made Flesh – if it is true.

The Gospel is hard, and it contains within it, not the fear but the absolute certainty, that persecution and misunderstanding will always follow in its wake. It is based on the idea of dying in order to live; of losing life in order to find it; of taking up the cross, that instrument of torture, and finding therein not merely life but glory.

Yes, the hype and sentimentality surrounding the funeral of Nelson Mandela’s funeral were embarrassing, but at the core of it all was the central idea, embodied by a figure such as Archbishop Tutu, that it is possible to ignore the poison of hatred bubbling in your heart and forgive your enemies. The ANC, for long – yes – a terrorist organisation, changed its mind, and behaved, not like Jihadists, but like Christians. South Africa, riven as it is with every kind of human problem, got that thing right largely because Mandela in his prison years decided to risk all on what was a fundamentally Christian idea.

Yes, the Arab Spring is the Christian Winter because there is no truth or reconciliation apparently at work in Israel-Palestine, nor in Iraq, nor in Syria… But the Christian writings, beginning as they do with a refugee mother and baby surrounded by invading armies, and ending with world conflict, the utter destruction of Jerusalem, and the coming of apocalyptic death and plague, are not comfortable.

The paradox is that growing or shrinking numbers do not tell you anything. The Gospel would still be true even if no one believed it. The hopeful thing is that, where it is tried – where it is imperfectly and hesitantly followed – as it was in Northern Ireland during the peace process, as it is in many a Salvation Army hostel this Christmas, as it flickers in countless unseen Christian lives, it works. And its palpable and remarkable power to transform human life takes us to the position of believing that something very wonderful indeed began with the birth of Christ into the world.

The smell of foreclosure

For several weeks my wife and I have been house-hunting escorted by an intrepid and knowledgeable agent. Our area of South Florida was one of the epicenters of the real estate crash and the aftershocks continue to be felt in every neighborhood. The properties we've looked at run the gamut from bank-owned to "normal sales" -- you know, the kind where an average homeowner (not an investor) is looking to sell his house for a fair price for one reason or another. Normal sales are the minority these days in this neck of the woods.

One thing I immediately noticed about our realtor was his habit of flinging open the front door, then waiting as if expecting someone to rush out. Also I noted his practice of leaving the door open behind us instead of shutting it as I would. Today he explained why. In the early days of the post-crash real estate market foreclosure companies would often cut the power to their distressed properties. He shared horror stories of going into these dwellings -- sometimes ten or more a day -- and the smells encountered. This bred in him a healthy caution about plunging into the unknown of an abandoned property. Many of these properties look appealing based on pictures and online descriptions. Then you open the front door. . .

Things have gotten a little better. Apparently banks are now required to keep the power on and maintain at least a minimal amount of air conditioning. Still, it dawned on me today as we looked at one such house that foreclosure has a smell. It's the smell of decay. And it's not pleasant. Once our search for new lodgings is at an end -- and frankly I have no idea what our "end" will look like -- I should write a memoir of my tour of the underbelly of the Palm Beach County housing market. I'm thinking of calling it "The Scent of Foreclosure".

Amid the sights and smells I wonder about the people that used to inhabit these once liveable spaces. It's like  being at the aftermath of a car accident, or crime scene, except the protagonists are long gone. What is the story behind this.

If only walls could talk.

Surely many houses shall be desolate, large and beautiful houses, without inhabitant.

Will these desolate houses each find their redeemer? I hope so.  

Makers vs. takers? Some post-election thoughts.

Prominent among the post-election breast beating on the Right is a counterproductive (and quite ugly) meme. It goes something like this. We've become a nation where half the population expects the government to take care of them, a nation where takers outnumber makers, where there are more people in the wagon than pushing the wagon. This metanarrative is counterproductive because it insults the very voters you need to win over to have any chance of ever having another Republican president, and ugly because it raises stereotypes about certain groups being lazy shiftless folks looking for a handout.

I'm not saying this meme is completely without credibility. Many sweeping generalizations have an element of truth in them. I'm sure there were people who voted for Obama simply because they think he'll protect some or another benefit they get from the government.

On the other hand, it's an oversimplification to say that Romney was the candidate of rich white people, but truth be told there are a lot of glum faces on Palm Beach island this week!

The counterevidence to the "takers for Obama vs. makers for Romney" meme is abundant for anyone with eyes to see. How about my former neighbor, a retired African-American postal carrier, with an Obama sign in his front yard. Is he a taker? Maybe his life's work is worth less since it was done for the federal government and not the private sector? How about the millions of Hispanics and Asian-Americans who exit polling indicates rejected Republican candidates? Are they all on the government dole?

Hopefully the answer is obvious. If anything these communities typify values of hard work and family more than some white communities.

Perhaps the answer to the GOP defeat is more complicated than one is led to believe by the likes of Glenn Beck, Ann Coulter and Rush Limbaugh? If you find those voices authoritative then you probably won't care what David Brooks has to say. He's a moderate and he writes for the liberal New York Times. Nevertheless in my opinion he's one of the sharpest commentators out there and if Republicans are going to learn from this defeat -- and if those of us social conservatives who care passionately about defending the unborn and traditional marriage are going to have a voice in Washington (my hunch is that a meaningful slice of the people who voted for Obama did so in spite of his social liberalism) -- we should listen to such as Brooks (and his colleague Ross Douthat) that the GOP's traditional "public is bad private is good, what's good for Wall Street is good for Main Street" economic message is hopelessly out of touch with the challenges faced by growing numbers of hard-working Americans.

Here's a relevant quote from Brooks' November 8 column The Party of Work:

The Pew Research Center does excellent research on Asian-American and Hispanic values. Two findings jump out. First, people in these groups have an awesome commitment to work. By most measures, members of these groups value industriousness more than whites.

Second, they are also tremendously appreciative of government. In survey after survey, they embrace the idea that some government programs can incite hard work, not undermine it; enhance opportunity, not crush it.

Moreover, when they look at the things that undermine the work ethic and threaten their chances to succeed, it’s often not government. It’s a modern economy in which you can work more productively, but your wages still don’t rise. It’s a bloated financial sector that just sent the world into turmoil. It’s a university system that is indispensable but unaffordable. It’s chaotic neighborhoods that can’t be cured by withdrawing government programs.

For these people, the Republican equation is irrelevant. When they hear Romney talk abstractly about Big Government vs. Small Government, they think: He doesn’t get me or people like me.

Let’s just look at one segment, Asian-Americans. Many of these people are leading the lives Republicans celebrate. They are, disproportionately, entrepreneurial, industrious and family-oriented. Yet, on Tuesday, Asian-Americans rejected the Republican Party by 3 to 1. They don’t relate to the Republican equation that more government = less work.

Over all, Republicans have lost the popular vote in five out of the six post-cold-war elections because large parts of the country have moved on. The basic Republican framing no longer resonates.

I'm not Asian or Hispanic, but I have the same reaction listening to cliche-ridden rhetoric about the evils of big government, etc. "He doesn't get me or people like me."

Sure, I understand the threat posed by deficits and runaway spending. But when I'm struggling to scrape together enough money each month to pay our bills, when I'm getting screwed by my insurance company, when I worry about how we're going to afford to send our boys to good schools -- with those things on my mind the priority of cutting the capital gains tax or reducing the size of government to below twenty percent of GDP leaves me cold.

I guess that's why for the first time in my adult life I didn't vote in a presidential election. Give me a candidate that represents my social values and economic values and I'll make the effort to vote.

The household of faith

"So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith." Galatians 6:10


It's quite something to be deeply embedded in a multigenerational community of faith. On Sunday I was helping out in our church's nursery. I was a witness to the baptism of many of the little ones crawling or toddling around me, and I've made vows to share in the responsibility for their nurture in the faith. One of the toddlers was my son, Benjamin.

Today I attended the memorial service for a member of our church who died suddenly. I didn't know the woman whose death we mourned, and whose life we celebrated, particularly well, but I do know well her daughter and son-in-law. They've welcomed my wife and I into their home for meals, and they brought us meals after the births of both of our children. And their daughter is our son's favorite babysitter.

So, in an organic and tangible way the extraordinary woman who's now home with the Lord has touched our lives and the lives of our children. The blessing comes full circle. This is the Church.

Wednesday Wendell: on affection and Howards End

Earlier this year Wendell Berry gave the loftily named Jefferson Lecture in the Humanities at the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C. He took as his title a line from E.M. Forster's novel Howards End. It's a line spoken by Margaret Schlegel, the novel's pivotal character, in one of the novel's pivotal scenes as described by Berry.

The climactic scene of Forster’s novel is the confrontation between its heroine, Margaret Schlegel, and her husband, the self-described “plain man of business,” Henry Wilcox. The issue is Henry’s determination to deal, as he thinks, “realistically” with a situation that calls for imagination, for affection, and then forgiveness. Margaret feels at the start of their confrontation that she is “fighting for women against men.” But she is not a feminist in the popular or political sense. What she opposes with all her might is Henry’s hardness of mind and heart that is “realistic” only because it is expedient and because it subtracts from reality the life of imagination and affection, of living souls. She opposes his refusal to see the practicality of the life of the soul.

Margaret’s premise, as she puts it to Henry, is the balance point of the book: “It all turns on affection now . . . Affection. Don’t you see?”

Berry argues in "It All Turns on Affection" that without imagination, sympathy and affection for the people, places and things that surround us in our daily lives we'll succumb to the assumptions of corporate industrialism in which everything is valued according to the "supposed authority of market price." Without affection, Berry warns, "the nation and its economy will conquer and destroy the country."

Towards the end of his jeremiad Berry turned to a broader discussion of the book. Here Berry the English teacher meets Berry the critic of industrial capitalism.

In thinking about the importance of affection, and of its increasing importance in our present world, I have been guided most directly by E. M. Forster’s novel, Howards End, published in 1910. By then, Forster was aware of the implications of “rural decay,” and in this novel he spoke, with some reason, of his fear that “the literature of the near future will probably ignore the country and seek inspiration from the town. . . . and those who care for the earth with sincerity may wait long ere the pendulum swings back to her again.” Henry Wilcox, the novel’s “plain man of business,” speaks the customary rationalization, which has echoed through American bureaus and colleges of agriculture, almost without objection, for at least sixty years: “the days for small farms are over.”

In Howards End, Forster saw the coming predominance of the machine and of mechanical thought, the consequent deracination and restlessness of populations, and the consequent ugliness. He saw an industrial ugliness, “a red rust,” already creeping out from the cities into the countryside. He seems to have understood by then also that this ugliness was the result of the withdrawal of affection from places. To have beautiful buildings, for example, people obviously must want them to be beautiful and know how to make them beautiful, but evidently they also must love the places where the buildings are to be built. For a long time, in city and countryside, architecture has disregarded the nature and influence of places. Buildings have become as interchangeable from one place to another as automobiles. The outskirts of cities are virtually identical and as depressingly ugly as the corn-and-bean deserts of industrial agriculture.

What Forster could not have foreseen in 1910 was the extent of the ugliness to come. We still have not understood how far at fault has been the prevalent assumption that cities could be improved by pillage of the countryside. But urban life and rural life have now proved to be interdependent. As the countryside has become more toxic, more eroded, more ecologically degraded and more deserted, the cities have grown uglier, less sustainable, and less livable.

Forster's novel is inseparable in my head from the 1992 film adaptation by Merchant & Ivory, starring Anthony Hopkins as Henry Wilcox and Emma Thompson as Margaret Schlegel, along with a veritable Who's Who of British acting talent. I vividly recall the first time I saw it on a rainy Saturday afternoon at the old Carefree Theatre in West Palm Beach. It made such an impression I went back the next Saturday and saw it again! In a way it's surprising my 23-year-old self responded so positively to a story that was subversive of my then rigidly ideological view of the world (I suspect if I had encountered Wendell Berry in those days I would have written him off as an "environmentalist wacko"). Having lived a little I've discovered that things are rarely as simple as they appear on the surface, and I hope I've learned a little about the importance of affection, sympathy and forgiveness as epitomized by the character of Margaret.


Still from Howards End (dir. James Ivory, 1992) via DVD Beaver

A shameless plug for Dispatches from the Front

My wife and I have been watching a DVD series called Dispatches from the Front and I've been showing it to the adult Sunday School class at our church. Tim Keesee, the producer and narrator of these extremely gripping documentaries, calls Dispatches windows into the Kingdom of God around the world. That they are! From a purely artistic and technical point of view these films are the equal of many Academy Award-nominated documentaries I've seen. But they are so much more, since they deal with the grandest subject of all: the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Keesee and his collaborators Peter Hansen and Brannon McAllister (pictured above) take viewers to some of the hardest and most spiritually dark corners of the world to show how the light of the gospel is breaking forth. You'll meet brothers and sisters in Christ you didn't know you had, as well as heroic frontline soldiers in the advance of God's Kingdom. Except these soldiers don't fight with guns, they wield deeds of love and mercy. I could go on and on, but I'll simply echo Carl Trueman's endorsement:

"I have just watched the episode on Albania, Kosovo and Montenegro. The low-key presentation enhances the drama and the beauty of the stories told. But be aware: this is sobering stuff. I came away ashamed of my own lack of zeal for the Lord's work and my ingratitude to him for all of the material comforts I enjoy. This is not a celebration of the pyrotechnic entertainment of the American church; it is an account of genuine works of God. It will convict you of your own sin, drive you to Christ and encourage you to pray for Christians working on the front lines of the Kingdom and to reassess your own priorities wherever you are."

Buy Dispatches from the Front. It will be money well spent.

Random thought on the I-95 off ramp

That panhandler standing by the side of the road, smelling of cigarettes and alcohol, is potentially closer to the Kingdom of God than the church elder.

Written by a church elder.

Goodbye PCUSA, hello ECO

"Nothing engenders strife so much as a forced unity, within the same organization, of those who disagree fundamentally in aim." - J. Gresham Machen

Allow me a personal update. On Saturday Memorial Presbyterian Church -- the church my family are members of and where I serve as an elder -- was officially dismissed from the Presbyterian Church USA (PCUSA) and received into a brand new denomination ECO: A Covenant Order of Evangelical Presbyterians. As our co-pastor Randy Bare described it Saturday was a "historic and emotional day" as we celebrated a service of worship with representatives of the church body Memorial has been a part of for 88 years, as well as representatives of our new ministry home.

Saturday was the culmination of an arduous years-long journey on which the fingerprints of the Holy Spirit were frequently evident, and I have to say the gracious spirit that characterized this separation was due in large part to the goodwill of those with whom we have sharp disagreements theologically. For those not familiar with Presbyterian church government: individual congregations can't leave unilaterally, but must be granted dismissal by higher church bodies called presbyteries. In our presbytery (The Presbytery of Tropical Florida) we were able to disagree agreeably! This hasn't been the case in other parts of the country where separations of theologically conservative churches like our's from the PCUSA have often been accompanied by bitter strife and even litigation.

But why ECO? Why join a new Presbyterian denomination when there are already several good options for churches like us? This was a question the elders wrestled with, but in the end we decided the opportunity to be in on the ground floor of something new was too good to pass up. And perhaps most importantly several of our sister and daughter churches in South Florida were also headed to ECO.

ECO is a start-up, and as such can look with new eyes at the challenge of being a denomination in a post-denominational world, and of being missional Christians in a Western context that's increasingly post-Christian. ECO seeks to do this while holding fast to the essential tenets of our catholic and Reformed faith -- such as the authority of Scripture as the only infallible rule of faith and practice, and the uniqueness of Jesus Christ as "the sole path by which sinners become children of God" (quoting from ECO's statement of theological beliefs). I think of it as Presbyterianism 2.0.

ECO's mission statement is to grow and plant "flourishing churches that make disciples of Jesus Christ." In other words to create and nurture a healthy "ecosystem" which supports churches in carrying out the Great Commission. What might that look like? Quoting from Pastors John Crosby and Jim Singleton (two of the drafters of ECO's founding documents):

"[ECO] is intended to foster a new way of being the Church, just as traditional, mainline denominations rose to serve in their day. We aspire to reclaim a sense of covenanted biblical community, where unity is derived from a shared mission to make disciples of Jesus Christ, rather than by structural mandate. Our theological beliefs and core values unite us and inform our daily ministry, as leaders of all generations are being developed to equip God's people to speak the gospel into a rapidly-changing world. Congregations will gather together not to debate process or policy, but to collaborate, share best practices, encourage a Jesus way of life, and spur one another on to love and good deeds."

Tragically the mainline Presbyterian Church has lost this vision of unity defined by God's Word and God's mission, instead settling for a forced institutional unity that Machen correctly predicted would lead to strife. If you're inspired by the vision of ECO why don't you consider joining us? There are now 8 ECO churches in South Florida from Ft. Pierce down to The Keys, and many more nationally. Most of all, pray that all of us in ECO would be empowered by God's Spirit to live into our vision for making disciples.

Pushing paper

Brazil (dir. Terry Gilliam, 1985)

Our boys

It's been a while since I posted any pictures of the boys so here goes. Benjamin is 8 months old and follows his big brother all over the house. Samuel is two and a half and attends preschool two mornings a week and he's starting to realize that having a little brother can be fun. Truly, we thank God every day for the gift of these two.

Cake and candles

This evening we had a little birthday celebration for my lovely mom. Samuel helped his "Jammah" do the honors.







And the lemon coconut cake from TooJay's was delish!

U2 360° in Miami

Last night Shannon and I attended the U2 show at Dolphins Stadium. We'd originally bought tickets 2 1/2 years ago for the original date in July 2010 which had to be cancelled when frontman Bono injured his back. As he noted last night -- some of us in attendance were two years younger when we bought our tickets, and in our case, had two less kids. Well, I'm glad we held onto our tickets all this time. It was worth it, despite the ordeal that attending an event with 70,000 of your closest friends entails. Suffice to say we didn't get home til 2am.

The most striking thing about this tour is the massive stage set-up dubbed "The Claw". It's design was inspired by the Theme Building at LAX.




It's a clever concept because it allows the typical apparatus of stadium shows (sound gear, lighting, video screens) to be suspended in the air above the stage thus affording unobstructed views from any vantage point. Band members have said that when they're on the stage the giant edifice above and around them is virtually invisible. The sheer geography of the thing is quite amazing. It evoked for me the image of the mother ship from Close Encounters. One almost expected the thing to lift off. Last night they played to this imagery by taking the stage to David Bowie's "Space Oddity" -- Ground control to Major Tom/Take your protein pills and put your helmet on. The show also features a message from space from Commander Mark Kelly of the International Space Station which introduces "Beautiful Day".

Shannon -- who's actually the biggest U2 fan at our house and I told her she should write her own review -- hit the nail on the head when she said during the ride home that the show was less about music and setlists than it was about the total experience. Once U2 took the stage it was like getting on a train with Bono as the conductor. You just sit back and enjoy the ride. All that's been said about this band's ability to make a stadium seem intimate is true. One can see the huge amount of planning that goes into a U2 stadium show, while still leaving room for Bono's spontaneity and eagerness to take chances on stage. For more on that see the article I linked to a while back: Mega-church Services: Like Going to a U2 Concert?

As one would expect the audience was very diverse. In our section there were parents with children, folks old enough to be grandparents -- and everything in between. The Spanish-speaking contingent was in the majority and Bono played to that throughout the evening. Indeed Miami is the crossroads of North and South America and the Caribbean. I'm sure most of the 70,000+ came to experience a great rock and roll show, have fun, and maybe take home some inspiration. If so, they weren't disappointed. For those with ears to hear there was a greater message embedded in the pop star atmospherics and the calls for peace, love and understanding. It came in the form of visual symbolism that was impossible to miss, and lyrics like these.

Last time we met was a low-lit room
We were as close together as a bride and groom
We ate the food, we drank the wine
Everybody having a good time
Except you
You were talking about the end of the world

In the garden I was playing the tart
I kissed your lips and broke your heart
You were acting like it was the end of the world

I reached out for the one I tried to destroy
You said you'd wait till the end of the world. . .


You broke the bonds
And you loosed the chains
Carried the cross
Of my shame
Oh my shame
You know I believe it

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for. . .
It would be nice to think that the throngs leaving Dolphin Stadium last night will reflect on that message when the euphoria of spending two hours with the biggest band in the world wears off.

Ben's baptism

I'm belatedly posting some photos from our second son Benjamin's baptism on March 20. Thanks to our dear friends Bill & Sonia for stealing these shots. They definitely capture the moment.













And here's a recent pic of our happy, easygoing Baby Ben. . .

Will be back

Because he first loved us

Last month I blogged about our second son Benjamin's baptism, which I'm happy to report took place the Sunday before last. Both boys behaved beautifully -- due to some serious praying I'm sure -- and the ceremony went off without a hitch. Well, there was a minor snafu when our pastor forgot to put water in the baptismal cup beforehand (I can hear my Baptist friends snickering). Thankfully he remembered at the last minute and signaled our pastor emeritus who slipped out and returned with water in a plastic cup. We'll have a funny story to tell Ben some day. Here's a picture of the happy family.




Some of you might be interested to read part of the liturgy our church uses for infant baptism. There's a different one for adult baptism (i.e. baptism on profession of faith) -- which has happened, though not as often as we'd like.

Here are the questions that were addressed to my wife and I, followed by our answers, and then the words addressed to Benjamin before he was baptized. I found these latter especially moving.


Do you renounce sin and the power of evil in your life and the world?
I renounce them.

Who is your Lord and Savior?
Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior.

Do you, by the grace of God, promise to be Christ's disciple, to follow in Christ's way, to show love, to practice justice, to resist evil, and to witness to the living Christ?
I promise, with the help of God.

Do you promise to devote yourself to the apostles' teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread and in prayer, to celebrate Christ's presence and to further Christ's mission in the world?
I promise, with the help of God.


For you, Benjamin David
Jesus Christ has come, he has fought, he has suffered.
For you he entered the shadow of Gethsemane and the horror of Calvary.
For you he uttered the cry, "It is finished!"
For you he rose from the dead
and ascended into heaven
and there he intercedes —
for you, little child, even though you do not know it.
But in this way the word of the Gospel becomes true.
"We love him, because he first loved us."

Letter to Benjamin on your baptism

Dear Benjamin,

On Sunday you will be baptized in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Ancient words will be spoken over you, words that signify entrance into an eternal Kingdom, a Kingdom based on love and mercy. Just as you will carry the name that mommy and I gave you for the rest of your life; even though you had nothing to do with choosing it, so you will carry the mark of baptism; even though you didn't have anything to do with the decision to be baptized. In fact, you won't even remember it! By presenting you for baptism mommy and I are publicly affirming that it's God who has the first word as to your eternal destiny. Your baptism marks a beginning not an end.

There are some who sincerely believe, based on their understanding of the Bible, that you shouldn't be baptized because you're too young to make a profession of faith. Others misunderstand baptism as being a guarantee of salvation. Mommy and I believe, based on our understanding of Scripture, that the infant children of Christian parents have a special status, are set apart, and should be welcomed into the visible covenant community called the church (what the Apostle Paul called "the Israel of God") by the sign and seal of baptism. We also believe baptism is primarily a demonstration of God’s action not our action. We’re thankful to be members of a church, and part of a faith tradition, that grants you the privilege of receiving this sacrament.

We also understand that baptism doesn't save anyone, child or adult, apart from faith in Christ. Though what will happen on Sunday is not a guarantee of your salvation, it's more than symbolic, and it's more than merely a rite of dedication. Just as our Lord and Savior promises grace through the common elements of bread and wine at his table, so the grace of baptism is tied to the common element of water by the promises of God's Word.

Our church's confession of faith tells us that the effectiveness of baptism isn’t tied to the moment in time it happens. And so our passionate prayer is that you will turn to Christ in faith and repentance as soon as you're old enough to understand your need for a Savior, and that you'll grow up never remembering a time when you didn't believe in him. That's why we sing you songs about Jesus even though you're too young to understand the words. Your baptism will remind us that the God whose steadfast love reaches from generation to generation often works through families to carry out his saving purposes.

In a way your baptism day has “snuck up” on us. We vividly remember the day your big brother was baptized, and it's still hard to believe that only two years later we’ve been blessed with another son. You’re our little mystery man. We probably haven’t prayed for you as much as we should; since we’ve been so busy with your rambunctious brother and the challenges of our growing family. Nevertheless, we know that God has his hand on you.

Sunday morning mommy and I will stand before the church and make vows to set a godly example before you, teach you the doctrines of the Christian faith, and bring you up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. These are awesome responsibilities, but we intend to carry them out in God's strength. We'll have other helpers too. The members of our family of faith -- of which you will become the newest member -- will also take vows to share in the responsibility for your Christian nurture. You already have a biological family, but tomorrow you'll gain a spiritual family. Membership in that family has privileges, but it also comes with responsibilities. It will be up to us to explain the meaning of those privileges and responsibilities to you as you get older.

When we hand you to the minister it will be symbolic of our giving you back to the Heavenly Father who created you "to glorify God, and to enjoy him forever." We pray that you grow up to be "like a tree planted by streams of water, that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither" (by the way I'll teach you Psalm 1 when you get older). Mommy and I have many hopes for you. We hope you never have to go to war. We hope you grow up to live in a more peaceful and just society. We hope you love Old Forge pizza. But our greatest hope is that you'll be counted righteous in Christ and make Heaven your eternal home. We feel unworthy to be your parents, little Ben. We love you more than words can say!

Starting family worship

Last night my wife and I started something we hope will become a daily practice. We had family worship. While Shannon nursed Baby Ben in the recliner, me and 2-year-old Samuel sat on the couch. We read a Psalm, prayed, and "sang" a hymn. The first two elements went smoothly, but the hymn-sing descended into chaos as Sam and I played tug-of-war with the hymnal -- with him shouting I do! I do! I do! -- while I tried to lead us in "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross." By verse two mommy was cracking up, and daddy was getting aggravated, so we cut it short. Hey, nobody said this was going to be easy!

I say all that to recommend a couple of helpful articles on this neglected practice from Jason Helopoulos, a PCA pastor in East Lansing. He offers 11 reasons for family worship and 9 practical suggestions for actually doing it. The last one is the most important. Persevere!

Maybe the most important advice for family worship is to persevere in it. There will be moments and even weeks where it seems like a chore and that little fruit is being born: your toddler has trouble sitting still, your teenager complains every night, or the tune keeps getting lost in the middle of singing. Just keep going! You are not alone, and your situation is not unique. Just keep gathering with your family in worship. Perseverance is the best remedy for all these ills. Over the course of time, most of these struggles will be overcome, and fruit that was invisible at the time will begin to show itself in the future.

We'll be gathering again tonight.

Never a dull moment at our house

Some recent photos. . .