2026-04-21T19:20:09+00:00

What About Joshua?

April 21, 2026/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

This is an interesting time. I don’t have anything to say – I don’t want to write about the last documentary I watched on the mafia or what I think about the shameless cash grab of rereleasing Endgame with new footage “essential” to Doomsday. Maybe I’ll write about my new love of the Cleveland Cavaliers or my mom’s cat later. But instead of leaving this space blank, I know I don’t do this often (I like to keep it relatively religion-free) but I’ll share the post I wrote on my other blog. Maybe you’ll like it…

We’re currently at the tail end of Joshua, following a Bible In A Year plan, and there are some things about this book that are surprising and others that are problematic. I wonder if everyone everywhere who has ever read the Scriptures have had these same immediate reactions, if they thought, “sheesh, there is an awful lot of killing, so much about totally destroying entire groups of people,” or “why do I care about the boundaries of each tribe’s land?” Probably.

We finished the earlier books, with all of the monotony of the sacrifices, measurements and laws, thought we were done, now we’re back into more super-specific details. What I think when I read it is not, “now, where exactly did Dan’s eastern border stretch?” Instead, it’s that there was a tribe that descended from Dan and it did stretch from one very concrete place to another. Sometimes, we can disconnect and think this all fell out of the sky. It’s easy to forget that this all happened, and it happened in this place at this time to these people. The fact that the book through which God chose to reveal Himself includes countless human beings is extraordinary, as if we’re the medium He chooses to create His masterpiece. So, now, I really like these loooong lists and details (honestly pretty meaningless in themselves, I don’t reference a map or anything, but heavy with significance at their inclusion at all.)

The genocide is another thing altogether. It hurts to read, especially to spend even an extra second in consideration. It’s a little like reading the story of Noah, not through the tiny prism of Noah & his family, but thinking of everyone else. All other people drowned. It’s a horrific story we tell to children. Or speaking of inappropriate kids’ stories, David separates Goliath’s body from his head at the end. I have a million more examples, and 1 question, in light of the last paragraph. If these are real people, in real places, at real times, then real flesh and blood people just like you and me are dying…I guess the question is: What??? If God created us all in His image, and loves us all, then what about the Amorites and Amalekites? What about Goliath?

I just Googled “Amalekites,” and here’s what it says: “The Amalekites were a nomadic, warlike tribe in the Negev desert who served as the first and most persistent enemies of Israel in the Bible. As descendants of Esau, they attacked the Israelites after the Exodus, leading to a divine mandate for their destruction. Amalekite symbolizes absolute evil in Jewish tradition, representing irrational hatred if the Jewish people.”

Ok. That sounds like the extermination of a group of people symbolizing absolute evil representing hatred of God’s chosen people by those chosen people is something we can understand, doesn’t it? It sounds reasonable, even.

Now, I don’t mean to be contrary, but there is a strange passage in chapter 5, before the battle of Jericho. Joshua meets a figure, and in his aggression, essentially asks, “are you with us or against us?” This figure, a “Commander of the army of the LORD” answers, “Neither.” Neither??Now what? What do we do with that? Also, a lot of scholars think this figure was a pre-incarnation appearance of Jesus, who would later famously say, “Love your enemies.” We can assume He meant “the first and most persistent enemies of Israel,” the Amalekites, too.

So now I’m wondering what part we don’t understand. It seems like we are very clear on the Old Testament narrative, we understand enemies and war. Good guys and bad guys, us vs them. We do understand and we honestly don’t seem to mind those parts. The complicated parts are the ones that are complicated by this Commander and Jesus Himself. Neither? Love your enemies? Their words bother us, not the book of Joshua.

And here’s what I’ll say to that: they should. We should be bothered, and we should stay bothered. The words and way of Jesus are revolutionary and radical, we have no frame of reference for the Kingdom of God. Unconditional love and grace is not what we do here, we do productivity and record-keeping. Vengeance above forgiveness.

It’s vital to stay bothered, to keep wrestling with these parts we don’t like, that confront us in the deepest parts of us. (Of course, we do have to be aware of what actually we’re wrestling with/about.) And hidden in the middle of this story is a command for how we’re called to interact with these parts. The Commander says “Neither,” then He says, “now take off your shoes because you’re on holy ground.” That’s so good. He reminds us that when we’re in relationship with Him, it’s all holy ground, and Joshua’s reaction is to fall facedown. When we read the Word, his is the only posture that will work, awe, reverence and total respect, trying to make our lives fit Him instead of twisting Him to fit us.

Joshua IS certainly a tough book, maybe not for the reasons we think it is, but we must not stop reading it.

Puzzle Pieces

April 14, 2026/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

What is my favorite restaurant? That’s what the site wants to know, and I’m wondering if it’s part of a connected marketing attack, where the site asks me, shares that info with 1. the restaurant I deem my favorite, who can send me coupons and advertisements, and 2. all of the other restaurants & businesses in the world, who want to take that #1 position and my money. I’m not sure it’s worth it for the spam avalanche into my inbox… actually, I’m not even sure I have a favorite restaurant. I really like quite a few, but if you told me I had 1 meal that would be the last meal I would ever eat out, I have no idea where we would go.

Anyway. This post is a little late, I usually write on Mondays, but I was in the middle of a big, beautiful Star Wars puzzle. That shouldn’t matter, it shouldn’t be an obstacle to real life for a normal person. But I’m not a normal person. I have what’s called an addictive personality, so when I begin a puzzle, we can safely figure it will take nearly every second of my free (or writing/working) time. And that’s what it did, for a couple of days, and now it’s finished and glorious.

I love puzzles, and I often used to wonder why. Now, I know.

The world is more and more mixed up, confusing, frustrating, and I have little control over what happens on a macro level. Of course, I have lots and lots of control over how I treat my neighbors or what I buy at the grocery store, or how & when I brush my teeth. But I can’t stop any of the wars happening right now or make the sun come out. I can’t erase any of the President’s increasingly problematic posts on his personal social media site. I can’t bring gas prices down or help the Dallas Cowboys win the Super Bowl.

So, it feels like our cultural, political, emotional, and economic environments are just big snarling masses of individual pieces, disconnected and random. It’s a dining room table of chaos. But in this Star Wars puzzle’s case, I can find 2 pieces that fit, then a third, and it starts to take shape. You hold one piece and think, how can this possibly make sense? And it really doesn’t, by itself, but there is a meta-narrative that recontextualizes everything, making one central ordered picture that’s full of meaning.

Puzzles work as a metaphor, a soothing intellectual exercise, and they’re super fun. Now that it’s done, I can just appreciate the beauty of cohesion and unity, and that’s just what I’ll do.

Easter Sunday

April 6, 2026/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I recognize we are not the same. We all celebrate in different ways.

Yesterday was Easter Sunday, and I spent the morning sharing a sunrise message on the Bridge YouTube site at 7am. Then, I ate a delicious greek yogurt fruit parfait breakfast. At 9:30ish, the Angel and I loaded up the car and left for church. The car was packed because we would stay there most of the day. In my family, Easter is the holiday where we all come here and we host, and this year, there were so many of us (and it was raining and our house is fairly small), we had our Easter meal at the church, after service. The food was excellent, the people even more so. In addition to the usual crew, my youngest son brought home 3 young men from his college basketball team. They live all over the country and we got to be their family this year. I hope this is a new tradition. We ate and ate, then laughed like crazy as we played board games together. Then, we came home, gave all of the kids (ha, kids!) their Easter baskets, hugged them, told them we loved them and watched them pull away to make the journey back to school.

It was a long weekend. Friday was our Good Friday service, where we focused on the sadness of the crucifixion. Our mourning was deep and meaningful, perfectly preparing us for Sunday. On Saturday, I married an absolutely gorgeous couple. They would have reaffirmed your faith in the institution and people, in general.

So, yes, the weekend was long, but my heart was in such a soft, open space, it was so wonderful and I was overflowing with love. Easter is my favorite day of the year. Maybe you don’t see faith the same way I do, but you don’t really have to – we all understand being loved, often in spite of ourselves. Jesus asks us to love each other as He loves us, and it’s as real as it can possibly be on the morning we celebrate His resurrection. We have hope, anything seems possible, we sing “All You Need Is Love,” and (for at least this day) think that’s probably true.

We’re different, right? But for this day, our differences don’t seem quite so insurmountable. We can get along, or better yet, we can love each other.

I think about how others feel. I wonder how they, how you, celebrate. Do you celebrate at all?

Social media can be cool to see others cultures and practices, right? We look at pictures and read perspectives. We get to see inside of each other’s homes & hearts.

Our President celebrated this deeply holy day (the day where Jesus was resurrected, ushering an entirely new creation, one not based on power, status, money, or violence, but on love) by posting – and I am choosing to censor 2 words in this post by using asterisks, I like to keep this space clean-ish: “Tuesday will be Power Plant Day, and Bridge Day, all wrapped up in one, in Iran. There will be nothing like it!!! Open the F*****’ Strait, you crazy b******s, or you’ll be living in Hell – JUST WATCH! Praise be to Allah. President DONALD J. TRUMP”

Yep. Easter sure looks different to different people. It’s my favorite day, but that doesn’t mean it’s yours.

2 Movies

March 30, 2026/The Bridge Faith Community/1 Comment

Last night, the Angel and I decided we’d watch a movie. She likes romantic comedies, love stories, and I like her, so that’s what we watch. (She also doesn’t want to watch too often, so I always get to choose what’s on tv.) But what to watch that’s not vapid and awful??? It’s a process, as you probably know, and we scroll and scroll.

We landed on It’s Complicated, with Meryl Streep and Alec Baldwin as exes…I guess that’s about all I know for sure. In the first 15 minutes, Baldwin cheats on his new wife with Streep (whom he first cheated on to destroy the marriage.) I am not the mayor of Prude City. However, as I get older, there are plot devices that are too heartbreaking to be effective as plot devices for me. Sexual assault in any form is a deal breaker. I can’t even watch 300 again (and that’s a very quality super-stylish and super-violent epic that I once liked) because there’s a scene that I simply can’t stomach. No sexual violence, non-negotiable. Adultery, it seems, is now another one that is proving hard to take, certainly in a comedy, as if it’s just another pratfall or punch line. Maybe I’ve seen too much wreckage and cried too many tears.

I don’t know if they end up together, if he leaves his current trophy wife and goes back, or what, because we turned it off to get a snack and never went back. Instead, we watched something called Look Both Ways. This was about a woman in a Sliding Doors-esque situation, where her life hung on one moment in which she took a pregnancy test: In one future, it is negative. In another, positive.

I found Sweet Home Alabama an interesting surprise, for only one reason. The man Reese Witherspoon was engaged to that she ultimately left, was McDreamy (Patrick Dempsey), a good man, totally respectful and kind to her at every turn. The love interest was a huge jerk, and she made the wrong choice, 100%.

This Look Both Ways was surprising in the same kind of way. The 2 romantic leads were the new Superman, David Corenswet, and the new MCU Falcon, Danny Ramirez. The main character has a best friend, parents, and a boss. The dad was Luke Wilson. I mention all of the men because they were so exceptional, as characters. None of them are no-integrity cads. None of them behave in the abysmal way in which boys are too often depicted.

It’s become pretty common to watch and listen to really negative depictions of human beings, and the lives we make, and sometimes fall into, and call it real life. Breaking Bad is supposed to be real life. Antiheroes are the rage. We think villains are more layered and interesting, but as it turns out, they’re not.

Look Both Ways carries conflict, hurt, confusion, and there are bad decisions, but the people remain…well, I guess there’s no other word to use than good. The people remain good. They don’t always do the good or right thing, and some of the things they do drive me crazy, some are self-destructive, some are immature, but we understand why they did them. They’re not mean spirited or immoral or violent or even particularly selfish.

They’re just real. They are all of the people I know. They’re trying to move forward, to make themselves happy, proud, satisfied, trying to find their purpose and someone to love. They’re trying to take the next best step, and sometimes they fail at that, but they keep trying. They’re actually the real ones, the slice of life we find far more often. They’re the ones we trust, that sometimes hurt us, but never because they decide to hurt us, but just because we sometimes do. They’re the ones trying to help, trying to take care of their neighbors, opening themselves and loving themselves and others despite the possibility (inevitability) of pain.

Sometimes we find treasure in the strangest places. Superhero movies can be more honest than documentaries. And sometimes, a silly rom-coms is the most accurate portrayer of truth going.

I don’t know what happened with Alec Baldwin and Meryl Streep (2 of the finest actors ever on screen), and their excellent director and great cast and pedigree of a fantastic film, and I don’t care at all. It’s the other one, with its positivity and hope for us, that matters. I really, really loved it.

Shoelaces

March 24, 2026/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I often wonder why I am the way I am. As I have asked many times before (and wondered countless times more), do I like the things I like because I am the way I am? Or have those things influenced me, gently nudging me (or violently shoving me) into the way I am now, which will not be the way I am tomorrow or next month or in 30 years?

I love a book called The Mezzanine, by Nicholson Baker, published in the mid-1980’s and which finally made its way to me around 1996ish. It’s a short, 130 page story of a man who tears a shoelace and goes to buy a replacement over his lunch hour. That’s all. Seriously, that’s what happens, and that’s all that happens.

This is not a book that everyone will like, obviously. But I really do. My job is to be the pastor of a church and I very often teach about paying attention to our lives. Look closer, feel the hands in your own, listen, kiss a little longer, notice, lean into this gift we’ve been given. The Mezzanine has entire chapters on escalators, milk cartons and straws. It’s about shoelaces but it’s really about presence.

I think we miss too much. We miss the trees beginning to respond to spring, the pre-budding of the flowers, the warmth of the seats and steering wheels, the way the verse slides into the chorus. And we take everything for granted – especially the people. The things we loved when we met are the things that we’d most like to change, or in the best case, the things we most easily ignore. Why is that? Is it simple familiarity? Or is it distraction?

At the end, he discusses the paperback he holds (Meditations, a collection of the words of Marcus Aurelius), he turns his eye to philosophy, and the great philosophers. I don’t know if he intended this novel to be his philosophical manifesto, or if he even saw a small, “insignificant” book about shoelaces to be philosophical at all. Probably. His is an attitude of being – or more specifically, being here, now. What could be more important, or necessary, than that?

Do I care so much about it today because I read that book then? Or did I read that book then because I have always cared so much about it, even before I could articulate what “it” was?

The answer is, who cares, right? It’s most likely both. Either way, the point of all of anything is to show up to our lives, to not wake up wondering what happened yesterday and wished we would have paid attention, right? The influences in our lives (or at least the positive ones) all push & pull us, sometimes kicking and screaming, into the present, and the reality of who we are, and who we’re going to be.

It’s not really shoelaces at all.

Weather?

March 23, 2026/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

What is my favorite kind of weather, the site wants to know. They’re not all great, right? You would be hard pressed to find a less interesting way to spend your writing/reading time. But then, this morning, one of the email lists I subscribe to sent these thoughts & questions (with the title “Do you wish life was different?”):

“Your life simply reflects what you’ve prioritized…What does your life tell you about your priorities? Do you wish it were different?”

We talk about values & the Biblical concept of weight (as in, what weighs more, observing the Sabbath or pulling your donkey out of a hole?) often. We discuss the foundations on which we build our lives. What do you believe about God, the world & yourself? And would your actions testify to those answers, or would they be a jarring contradiction?

This email doesn’t come from an espoused Christian, but it certainly asks a question that is inherently “Christian.” You have this wonderful gift of life, how will you spend it? What is important to you?

After I fell in love with Jesus, there were months where I didn’t open my Bible, where my fingers didn’t touch the spine, where it just sat on my bedside table collecting dust. But I would’ve absolutely told you that the Scriptures were very important to me. That’s just one of many hypocrisies that had to be addressed, before I could comfortably state that consistency was one of my core values. If it’s so important to me that you know what you’ll be getting from me, that I am authentically me all the time, that the principles I hold would be in the same room at a party, then I have to do quite a bit of work to honestly look at my thoughts, actions, motivations. I have to constantly examine myself in the harsh light of the mirror. It has been terribly frightening to confront the possibility that my boys and the Angel (the 3 who live in my house and know me the best) would not recognize the preacher at the Bridge. Would they hear me speak about the importance of the Bible and never have seen me read it? Would they hear me talk about honoring our spouses, while I am cutting and disrespectful to my own wife? Judgment, generosity, etc. I don’t know if you know, but we regularly read 1 Corinthians 13 on Sunday mornings, what if I am neither patient nor kind? What sort of example is that? Am I a Pharisee? I mean, yes, of course I am, but am I growing? Am I on the path, following Jesus? Is my life one marked by love?

We all have these spaces that confront – let’s call them invitations. That sounds much less aggressive, doesn’t it? Would we put family at number 1 but haven’t made it home for dinner in weeks, and haven’t spoken to my parents since last Christmas? Is eating right or exercise a “value” of ours, when we haven’t seen the gym lately and don’t remember the last time we’ve eaten a vegetable? Do we say we love our church community, while we don’t really go? Is giving an important discipline, but it’s often the first thing to get cut? Do we say we “love like Jesus,” but we really hate our enemies? It’s endless, and each example we give might hit a little too close to home. (Of course, the rub is: we would have to be willing to tell the truth, to and about ourselves. That’s where this can so easily break down.)

This emailer – Mark Manson – asks what our lives tell us about our priorities, and do we wish it was different? Do we wish we were more present? More faithful? More loving, caring, thoughtful? Do we wish our marriages were stronger, our families closer? Do we wish we were more responsible with our money, our time, our calories? Do we wish we were more mindfully enjoying the blessings in our lives?

I’ve been saying “more” and “better,” but that’s not the only thing we wish, right? Are we overwhelmed? Do we wish our calendars were less full? That we were less busy and distracted all the time?

What do all of these factors and characteristics say about our lives? Easter is such a great season to evaluate what goes into our hearts and lives. The resurrection is the best time to ask what we truly believe is possible. Where does the empty tomb fit into our priorities? If we answered yes to any of my own questions, do we trust that we can set a new course? That who we are right now might not be who we will be, that we just might not be done growing yet?

Easter is a time of intense hope… do we believe that? Does the way we live our lives affirm that theology? Probably not, but what better time could there possibly be to transform than right now???

Blue Paint

March 19, 2026/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

The site is asking what one word describes me…One word I want to describe me? Or the one that actually does? I think this is the kind of thing that is best left for others to answer. Maybe I’ll ask the Angel. Or maybe I don’t want to know.

I have a steel hot/cold cup (the brand is Bubba) and I fill and refill it with ice and water all day every day. I fill it before I go to bed, put it in the fridge and drink it first thing in the morning. It’s several years old and the blue paint on it is flaking all over the place. It’s on my hands, in the dish water, the cup holders in the car, the kitchen counter, everywhere. You will always know where I’ve been.

This morning I was talking with my brother in law about influence. With the avalanche of information/stimulation that we encounter, there’s no way it wouldn’t influence us. Even the way we access this information is an influence. Marshall McLuhan wrote a book called The Medium Is The Message, and I can’t help but notice how our language has transformed. We speak in text fragments, accurate spelling is a relic of a time long past, our metaphors and references are often technologically based, we are forever changed by the internet & social media. The algorithms and AI buddies on our devices can shape us in the same way advertising always has. (Maybe not the same way – they’re likely much more effective.) We’re influenced by the videos, books, voices we choose, as well as the lenses we use through which we see the world. Our experiences, opinions, beliefs and interpretations are a complex web.

I don’t think this is necessarily a bad thing. It just needs to be an intentional thing. The days where we could delude ourselves into the notion that we can avoid any of this are long, long past. Indifference, not choosing, is simply not an option.

We need to know where we’re picking up the blue paint that’s helping to color us. And in the same way, we should acknowledge what kind of paint chips we’re leaving on others. Maybe we could start to decide what we are influenced by, what kinds of colors are mixing into our own. Maybe that’s the difference between an ugly random mess and a beautifully varied mosaic.

The world is an increasingly terrifying place. The machines will probably make us their slaves in no time, if we even leave a world for them to usurp. Maybe we’ll destroy ourselves in our mad desire to destroy each other long before the Matrix can become reality (assuming it hasn’t already.)

But I’ve always believed in the original goodness of people – that the story begins in Genesis 1, where humans are made in the image of a wonderfully loving, creative God, and not the catastrophic fall of Genesis 3. Yes, it’s terrifying, but the road in front of us hasn’t been paved, not yet. We can reclaim our creativity and build a new tomorrow, and we can reclaim our nature of love and do it together. Whether we think we can or can’t has probably been influenced to a greater degree than we’d ever imagine by the kinds of paint we’ve gotten on and in our skin. Maybe it’s time to choose that paint.

[Upon further consideration, maybe my one word is hopeful. Very, very hopeful.]

Lately

March 9, 2026March 9, 2026/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I have been a little shorter, a little sharper, with my language lately. This could be due to many, many factors. It’s been a long, gray winter. I am in the middle of some significant behavioral changes, and our bodies need time to adjust – maybe this is that adjustment period. I’ve gained a few pounds, and that has psychological, as well as physical, effects. Last Tuesday was the 20 year anniversary of my father’s death. Many of the people I know and walk with have health concerns, surgeries, breaking relationships/marriages, struggles and suffering. (Incidentally, I would change nothing – I am honored to share my life with the people I do, I’m happy to be who I am and in a constant state of growth. Well, I’d probably not have gained the weight I did, I’d change that.)

So, anyway, I’m tired. And I’m sad, and hopeful, and inspired, and heartbroken. I’m all the things. And as I am sometimes surprised at the tone of the voice that cis coming out of my mouth. Those words aren’t always kind or for building. They can cut and tear. This is not altogether unfamiliar – I grew up with a highly defined sarcastic edge, like a blanket of armor for protection. It may have been funny, probably mostly was, but it was always mean. I’ve moved away from that, don’t need protection anymore. Instead, it’s been replaced with authenticity & loving.

But not lately.

And if the words we use are out of the overflow of the heart (as the Bible says), then what’s up with my heart? Is it a simple bruise that will heal in time, sunshine, and with apples, or something more that needs to be addressed?

Yesterday morning, as a good friend was leaving church, he shared with me that a relative of his is trapped in Israel. He had been on a trip, and now can’t get home. This is awful, terribly frightening, and deserved my care, prayers, and empathy. That isn’t what he got. I said, “Well, soon the whole world will be under the control of the US, and he can come and go as he pleases with only a Real ID,” and I said it with such heartless disdain, it disgusted me. He gave me the gift of open vulnerability, and I hit him with a political club.

Now. Of course, I abhor the killing of human beings, and am very staunchly anti-war. I see this as a logical extension of my spiritual belief: Everyone is created in the image of God, and deserves our love, respect and honor (and not our bombs.) BUT. My hypocrisy is that this belief had twisted my judgment to where my desire to see all treated with honor and respect led me to treat this man with dishonor and disrespect.

I am hyper-sensitive & wildly empathetic – it’s the best thing and the worst thing about me – and these characteristics can easily wound me, and skew my perspective, leave me a person I barely recognize. Of course, it’s hypocritical. My empathy moved me to act in a way that was absent any whiff of empathy.

And I think it’s all related. I am fairly buttoned up about my politics (which an anti-war bend do not reveal), because they must not obstruct the truth of my life, and my purpose. And I let them. I also let the current state of my heart be affected by the negativity of our environment. This just cannot be. It’s totally possible to by hyper-sensitive and empathetic about everything, everyone, every time. I know it’s possible, because it has become my life. I can usually hold many different positions in my hands because I’m so grounded that the position that weighs the most to me is love.

I see now that I may have forgotten that. At the very least, it got blurry for me. But now I can see, I got a little lost, my heart had been infected and began to flow from my mouth.

And I am very, very sorry.

Is Everything Related?

March 6, 2026/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

Today the new Morrissey album, Make-Up Is A Lie, was released (or “dropped” as the kids may still say). It’s really, really awful. If you have been with me for more than one second, you know how much that pains me to say. But this isn’t a review.

I’m instead wondering about the head- (and heart-) space of an artist.

When a good-to-great artist (in this case, a transcendent artist) completes and readies (what we consider) a subpar album for release, does he/she feel: 1. This is awesome, maybe the best material I’ve ever done. Now, of course, he/she might be wrong, or we are. 2. This may not be my best work, but it’s totally solid. At this point in my life/career, with much success, this is another excellent work. 3. This isn’t great, but the media/label/public pressure is heavy and something new needs to come out NOW. I hope it’s better than I fear. Or, I suppose there is a 4th: This is a stinker, but there are so many people out there who will buy it no matter what. Who cares about them? Money is money.

The specific is this album, but the real question is, how do we see each other? What is in the soul of a human being? Are we ultimately lacking integrity and looking to use each other as means to our own selfish end? Or do we genuinely mean well, even if things don’t turn out the way we hope? Can we be trusted? Who are we?

And, since I see most things through a spiritual prism, when a religious person or group uses Scripture to beat up another person, shame and ostracize them, when they use verses as excuse for violence and hate, is this because they are simply looking for an excuse for violence and hate? Or, at the point of inception, do they truly believe that they are doing God’s/god’s will? Is it from their authentic faithfulness that their actions flow? Or is it spiritual abuse and garden variety manipulation, the convenient means that justify their own ends?

I know, it’s just an album, and maybe something so trivial shouldn’t have any connection to our deepest held values. Or maybe what we believe about one thing is what we believe about everything. Or maybe that’s how it shouldbe. I’m not sure that this album matters at all, but I am absolutely certain our perspective of every human being matters, and maybe they’re related.

I think he thinks it’s great. Maybe it’s not The Queen Is Dead, but he’s not that guy anymore. He’s this one, and he believes Make Up Is A Lie is an A+. He’s not a bad guy, not a schemer, not a thief, not a guy with bad character, he just happens to be wrong. I’m not out on the old stuff, or the next album (if we’re lucky enough to get another one). I still trust him, and still love him the same, and will still wake up early to listen to his new songs.

Now that I think about it, they probably are related.

First Cousin Once Removed

March 3, 2026/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

At some point during many of the holidays my family and I celebrate together, the conversation will turn to 1st, 2nd, 3rd cousins, once or twice removed, and what any of those terms mean. We never remember, so we discuss it more often than you’d guess. Incidentally, I am ok with this, because it’s hilarious. We just wait for it to come up.

Anyway, last weekend, I went to my first dance competition. No, I wasn’t dancing (the way I worded that last sentence sounded like maybe I was). My first cousin once removed by marriage (The Angel’s cousin’s daughter) was dancing. She is 14 and has been dancing for most of her life. I had no idea what to expect, but I absolutely knew I’d write about whatever I experienced in this week’s post.

Not only did I not know what a dance competition looks like, I’d never seen her dance before, so I didn’t know what her particular dancing looks like, either.

The event was in a MASSIVE auditorium. Each competitor had a certain time (a minute or 2) to do whatever it was they would do, to music played at a pretty mind-numbing volume. (I’m not sure if you’re familiar, but there are lots of different styles of dance. I do know this, because I watched the TV show So You Think You Can Dance.) The kids in their very sparkly spandex outfits

[Actually, that’s not exactly true. They wore very sparkly tiny spandex super suits OR they wore white flowy sun dresses, with little in between. Anyway]

took the stage and performed, in numbered order. Some were awesome and some were good, none made me wish I wasn’t there. But my first cousin once removed by marriage was clearly the best. I would say by a mile, but there’s a chance that I am slightly biased, but only slightly. Objectively, she was clearly the best, maybe not by a mile, but for sure a good hundred yards. She was graceful, controlled, both subtle and overwhelming, and I found myself overcome with emotion. Beautiful things crack open my heart like eggs and flow all over, and her performances (1 jazz and 1 contemporary) were staggeringly beautiful. I thought about her life, her commitment and passion for this art/sport (it’s both, right? Elite athleticism combined with wild creativity and expression to create its own category), how so much of her resources – money, time, energy – and focus went into these few minutes. The hours and hours of physical practice are obvious, but what is staying with me are the countless hours of what is not so obvious. What she eats, how she works out, the many things she must have said no to, all in service of her one big yes, the foundation upon which she built the rest of her life.

[It might not be the foundation for her, she’s remarkably well rounded, maybe it’s not even what she would say is the most important thing to her…but you get the point.]

So, later, on the way home, I thought about me. I thought about my one big yes, the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and my commitment to Him. She was willing to offer so much of her life to a discipline, to a love, have I? With everything she does, how she walks, carries herself, she looks to the entire world like a dancer… What do I look like? Do I look like a walking, talking, loving, follower of Christ? From head to toe, morning to night, the food I eat, what I listen to and watch, is it all in service of this identity? Am I offering the best of me? Am I offering all of me?

The truth is…well, maybe we can answer that another time. But last Saturday, that building was a church, and her dancing was a sermon, asking questions that aren’t so easily answered. I can’t tell if I’m more impressed by her dancing or her preaching, but I’ll tell you, it was an honor to sit under this 14 year old’s teaching & learn about life, love, faith, and devotion in a brand new way.

Love With A Capital L

A journey towards living an inspired life of love in the modern world