2025-02-06T17:22:29+00:00

Gurus

February 6, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

It’s an icy day here, the schools are closed for something called a Flexible Instruction Day (which means there is virtual busy work to do so that the day counts towards the total), and I’m not going anywhere, so I figured I’d fill you in on some things.

There’s a new Max documentary called Cult of Fear, about the Indian guru Asaram Bapu. I don’t have to tell you how much I love cult docs, do I? This checks all of the boxes for a disturbing cult story – violence, murder, sexual assault, unchecked power, greed, money, and the blind faith of followers. The guru and his son are in prison “until their last breath” because of the courage and tenacity of some young women (victims and police) and principled men who would not accept what their ashram had become. My favorite line came at the very end, when a man summed up the victory as a fight “where every warrior performed their duty with complete conviction.” Awesome.

Of course, the cult still has 40 million members, so not everyone performed their duty with conviction, but enough to be encouraging to warriors who are wrestling with the status quo and the temptation to give up because, after all, “what can I do?” Well, the truth is, apparently, quite a lot.

Then, last night was senior night at the high school basketball game. My youngest son (who I brought home from the hospital at 6lbs only yesterday!!!) is an excellent basketball player, and now has 1 more game in his high school career. 2 things abut this:

The season began as a celebration of his passionate hard work to prepare and the fruit of that work. He was better every game and was willing his team to victory almost every night. Until an injury took 3 full games and affected the rest, after his return. He is, maybe, 50% and they’ll miss the playoffs, which were a foregone conclusion without the injury. He has handled the disappointment with class and grace. At home, I see & feel his wounded heart, but he continues to show up in every way for his teammates. He has placed his personal points goal secondary to getting his teammate his personal achievements.

That was the first thing, and the second was… Well, let’s just say the adult leadership he has had has not been awesome… I’ll bite my tongue until it bleeds and say no more about that.

Guru means “mentor, guide, expert or master” in Sanskrit. (Maybe we can omit the regrettable “master,” and just use it to mean mentor or guide? I will if you will, too. We all need Sanskrit terms in our lives.) So, who is guiding us through our lives? Have we chosen carefully? If we’re sliding down the face of a cliff and we reach out for something to grab onto, do our hands find that with deep, deep roots? Or will it easily pull out, providing the worst kind of aid?

It matters who and/or what we choose to follow. The people who were under the teaching of Asaram Bapu & his son were led astray. They weren’t necessarily wrong or evil or anything, they just happened to choose 2 someones who were. My boy was placed into a situation where the leadership was, um, less than ideal, and at the same time, he is becoming exactly the kind of man who you would be lucky to have as your guide. I guess the point is that we weren’t made to do any of this alone, and it is of the utmost importance who we choose to do to be our gurus & partners. I’m more grateful than I can tell you for mine.

Cherry Pie

February 4, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

This will probably be a little lengthy, and might get a little NC-17. We’ll start with the post I just wrote for the church site:

“In the 2nd chapter of Titus, the word sober-minded was used, and that doesn’t sound like too great of a catch phrase. No one is probably getting a “sober-minded” tattoo, or using it on their dating profile. We don’t throw it around easily in conversation, it seems like an adjective that was used often in the late 1800’s, and not much since. See? The Bible is hopelessly outdated, right?

But the term, as it was written, suggests a person that “knows the value of things,” and as I look around, live and breathe, I can’t think of a characteristic that is more necessary and less common.

Have you ever reached out to someone about something that is heavy, that is taking a toll on your heart, that is painful or wildly significant, that we aren’t meant to carry alone? It’s an unbearably vulnerable space, and we wait. Then, the person, obviously uncomfortable, makes a joke. Or answers their phone. Or changes the subject. Your authenticity is discarded and disrespected. That person, who made you so sorry you reached at all out and especially sorry you reached out to him/her, has no idea of the value of things.

Not only do they not know the value of the circumstance you entrusted to them, but they do not know the value of your open heart, not do they know the value of a human being. This last one is, sadly, the real loss. We treat each other as disposable, as means to ends, as items to be used, for what they can bring to us, instead of recognizing who they are for no other reason than who they are. We are, to each other, too often, tools.

We have things to do and boxes to check. We have been sold the idea that our productivity is more important than our relationships. We have lost the value of things.

When I see people show up to weddings in t-shirts (a more and more common occurrence), I always shake my head. I speak to my boys of “time and place,” and now I know that I actually mean, “sober-minded.” A wedding is different than a ball game is different than bedtime. When we go to the gym and go through the motions, we have forgotten how extraordinary it is that we have been made in such a fantastic way that we are able to do these amazing things with our bodies. Instead of worship, it is a torturous obligation. When we kiss our wives or hold another’s hand without thinking, as simply routine, we have missed the value of this shocking intimacy. What could be more wonderful than the soft, slow, unhurried kiss of your beloved? Or more loving and trusting than another person offering their hand to you, searching for care and closeness?

Right. We’re, of course, talking about Genesis 28:16, “Surely God was in this place, and I was unaware.” When we lose the value of things, we are consistently unaware.

Last night, we drove an hour to what is likely to be the very last away high school basketball game for my youngest son. Do you know how many away games we’ve traveled to? A lot. Do you know how many times they were a nuisance? If that answer is equal to or greater than 1, we were ignorant of the value of things.

I think the concept of “ordinary” is the language of a culture that does not know the value of things. Maybe Paul’s letter to Titus is exactly what we need. Maybe we need more “sober-minded” tattoos, so we can all remember kisses and away games, remember to be grateful, so we can remember to stay present and wake up to our lives and the overflowing blessings all around us.”

Now cover the kids ears. 2 days ago I heard the Warrant song, “Cherry Pie.” True, this isn’t a classic, in the sense that it is a particularly great song. But it is a classic in the sense that we all know it, you probably smiled when you read it, you probably can hear it in your head right now. It means exactly what you think it does, Warrant was never very subtle (not much of the hair band era was) or nuanced. Anyway, there is a line that says, “put a smile on your face 10 miles wide.”

I am a married man, so there is a physical act that my wife and I alone can enjoy (which is the subject of “Cherry Pie,” which is the reason we’re discussing it), and over the course of my life, I have seen, heard, read, and thought more about that act than almost anything. So, one of the things I notice is that there is a certain pressure to, um, finish, and without that… Well, wherever there is pressure, there is weight, which can steal focus and joy. We go somewhere else in our minds, our attention is split any number of ways.

When I marry couples, I give very strict instructions to not try to memorize their written vows. Write them down. Because a wedding is one of the most profound experiences of our lives, and if we drag along the pressure of memorizing the words, the ceremony ends and we discover that we remember little, if anything, of the moment.

The value of the thing Jani Lane of Warrant is singing about is not the finish, it is in the connection, intimacy, love, exclusivity, the dace between souls expressed through our bodies. It is selfless giving & receiving, it is pleasure, this blessing, and to reduce it to (roughly) 15 seconds of release is to miss the most significant parts. And if those 15 seconds don’t come (newsflash for those raised on popular culture and pornography: they don’t always, even in the best circumstances), we can feel other ways that don’t include 10 mile wide smiles. What a sad illustration of Genesis 28:16.

And another illustration of the modern lie: that we are only what we produce. That our worth is based entirely on our performance. That the value of things we have been taught since birth is hopelessly warped and twisted. Warrant had it right, maybe for different reasons than I think they did, but right nonetheless.

The point is to be there. Here. Now. Wherever we are, whenever we are. Whether it’s a cherry pie situation or church, tears or 10 mile wide smiles. This life we have been given is too beautiful to miss.

Gongoosmos-ing

January 30, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

What do I complain about the most? That’s what the site is asking this morning, and that’s almost too prescient. I wonder if the site prompts are different for everyone, and this AI algorithm is listening through my phone/tablet/tv set for who I am and what is, specifically, on my mind. Because I have been complaining this morning, and it happens to be what I complain about the most, in this season of my life.

I’m calling this post Gongoosmos-ing, because gongusmos is the Greek word for complaining, used often in the Bible. (I add the -ing because we can do whatever we want – I’ve never pretended to be a Greek scholar, I just love the word and want to use it.) It’s used to describe the behavior of the Israelites after they have been liberated from Egyptian slavery, and as they walk in the desert, they gongusmos. It’s the words uttered (or muttered) that are simply the outflow of the heart. “We deserve better,” that sort of thing. They lose sight of the blessing, or any hopeful vision for the future, exchanging it for an entitled sense of misplaced arrogance. We have been given less, we are lacking something, it sucks, and I’m going to tell you, tell everybody, about it again and again.

But some things do suck, right? The trick is to figure out the kind of perspective that can see the suck in a redemptive way, looking for solutions (this sucks, what can we do about it to make it not?), instead of just seeing the suck as static and impossible to affect any change (this sucks and will always suck).

I’m going to be honest with you, here, in a way I may regret. Maybe some things shouldn’t be aired in public. But maybe that’s it’s own form of despair and resignation to the toxic “it is what it is” status quo mentality.

(I’m going to use sports, but as we have learned, this isn’t only about youth sports. Not by a long shot.) We’re at the tail end of my son’s high school basketball season (maybe I’ve mentioned it;). The referees are embarrassingly inept. If the things that happen on the court, the way the players punch and push and harass, are within the rules, they should not be. (To be clear, they aren’t. When I say ‘if,’ I don’t really mean if.) It’s hard to watch a game. I gongusmos about that, and I’ll tell you why in a paragraph.

There are 2 sides of youth sports coaching. First are the x’s & o’s, wins and losses, the actual game, teaching positions, skills, plans, strategy – where the players learn the game and grow in it. The second are 3 C’s: character, connection & care – the players spend so much time with the coach, they are taught much more than the game. They are taught sportsmanship and all of those characteristics that come with becoming men and women. The best coaches have both. They relate and win, the players trust them and play for them. They exit the program as better versions of themselves in so many ways they may not understand. They just know they’ve been cared for. The vast majority of coaches have just one. They either win OR they’re the men/women you’d want your child to spend the time with. The worst have neither… I gongusmos about that.

Woeful officiating and shameful coaches have the same symptom and consequence, they communicate the exact same message: “Who cares? It’s just sports, it doesn’t really matter. We can’t do better, we’ll take what we get, and throw our hands up in a bizarre kind of aggressive indifference.” And maybe. It is just sports. (The fact that it is the American religion is a topic for another day.) Maybe it is so ancillary to the human experience, that devoting an ounce of attention to the (sometimes) miserable state of affairs is misspent energy.

However. The real message we are communicating is that it’s not the sports that don’t matter, it is the kids. (I cringe to say the familiar refrain, “it’s for the kids,” because the people usually self-righteously screaming it are obviously lying. Oh well.) The idea that my son (and your son and the 2 boys that quit 13 games into their senior season and the boys that cried after each devastating loss) deserves whatever we can throw at them is violence to their spirits.

Maybe we’re all so anxious and depressed because the world is a mean place where the people who should be fighting for us aren’t because it’s too much trouble. Maybe our kids don’t trust anyone because we’ve all proven ourselves to be so untrustworthy. Maybe this isn’t gongoosmos-ing, it’s shouting into the crowd in an attempt to incite a revolution. The revolution that reclaims the worth and value of every person. The revolution that stops sending the message that you aren’t enough, aren’t important enough to demand better, and starts sending a different announcement, that you ARE. The revolution of radical love. And maybe we could start to prove it with our skin and bones and decisions.

Maybe this is all gongoosmos-ing. I guess it all depends on if we can turn these warped tables of our own apathy over and rebuild this whole broken system.

Star Wars Or Bust

January 28, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

Amazon has this tv series called Icons Unearthed, where they dig under the surface of some very well loved bastions of pop culture, like The Lord Of The Rings and Batman. I think it’s awesome, because I am a guy that can’t ever get enough of the how’s of creation. (The only thing that I am more fascinated by are the why’s.) The Icon I’m currently watching is Star Wars.

I’m not sure there’s anything from my childhood that has been more influential on me than this saga that took place a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. The characters and their stories captured my imagination in ways other characters had, I am a target market, but to a new, surprising depth and intensity. If you’ve ever been impacted by my life, on any level, you have George Lucas, at least partially, to thank and/or blame.

George Lucas was the science fiction film visionary who conceived the skeleton of the story, a savvy businessman who still rakes in mountains of cash from contracts signed decades ago, for projects and merchandise based on his skeleton. Star Wars also sort of ruined his life. Maybe that’s a reach, a conclusion I arrived at without ever actually hearing from him. He may have always been an introverted curmudgeon who liked processes more than people, Star Wars or not, but it certainly ruined his marriage.

His life led me to think of the warning of Jesus about gaining the whole world but losing your soul. I’m not sure they are connected, and if they are, I think I might have more wrestling to do with the Bible on this.

Have you ever had an idea, or a metaphorical “fire” in your heart? You can act on that, lean into it, or you can not. You can try to shove it way down deep and try to pretend to have never heard the call at all. If you’ve done that, you already know it never stays down and pretending is impossible forever. The spark just gnaws and gnaws at your mind, like rats in the attic.

I remember saying to the Angel, “maybe this thing we’re starting (which happened to be a church), maybe it won’t work, but if we don’t try, I’ll never sleep again.” Maybe that was true.

But what if it costs everything? What if it would have cost me The Angel and my sons – how would I have slept then? But could I have actually given all of me, the best parts of me, to my wife if I suppressed that impulse? Could I have become who I am created to be without taking the shot? And how many people, like me, have have their lives changed by Luke Skywalker and his dad? How much beauty has had it’s genesis in Lucas’s films? What is the “whole world” gained, and what is the “soul” lost?

I know the verses are talking about faith, and the context is about choosing selfishness over God, but in this case (in most cases), it’s not so clear. “What can anyone give in exchange for your soul?” But maybe the “soul” is the art, in this case. Maybe Star Wars is the mission, the blessing to be given through this person, and to ignore it is to “forfeit” his soul, and the “whole world” is his relationship with his wife and family. Maybe they are the sacrifice of faith, in his life.

What if the Angel had said no, said I needed to keep the comfortable, secure job I hated? She might have been married to a shell of a man for the rest of her life. In a vacuum, I think George Lucas would have been happier with her, rather than with his wealth. She was, by all accounts, an absolutely lovely woman. But life isn’t a vacuum. So, with Star Wars inside of him, would he have ever been content?

Maybe he wrote it, gained all the money (among many other things), and blew up his marriage (among many other things), only because he had to prove his worth to his own father, or only because he wanted a few more dollars. That’s an easy application of the words of Jesus. But how many choices in your life have ever been 100-0? Not many. And for us, we’ll never know what actually went into his decision. We can believe it was for unimaginable wealth, but maybe it was faith, an offering of selfless service. When maybe all he really wanted was his wife. Then what?

On screen, Star Wars is a story of good persevering, the triumph of light, hope and love for each other. It’s a hugely successful franchise that may never die. And maybe off screen, it’s an epic tragedy. Our lives are complicated. We’ll never know the why of George Lucas, it’s just vital we know our own.

Dreams

January 20, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

This site is asking me what my dream job is…

There’s a story in the Bible I reference often. A blind man reaches out to Jesus, asking for help, and to this, Jesus responds, “What do you want me to do for you?” It sounds pretty simple and obvious, but I have found it’s anything but simple or easy. For an endless number of reasons, we don’t ask to see. We ask for a new can or sunglasses, or a better attitude to deal with the blindness, or enhanced hearing or taste. This man alongside the road understands the assignment, asks to see, and is immediately granted his sight.

So, like the site, I sit down with people and ask, “What do you want?” How they answer that is always fascinating. But the saddest reply (for both of us) is, “I don’t know.” We’ve gotten so used to blindness. Or we’ve lowered our hopes & expectations to the point where sight is impossible. Or, in the case of the site’s question, we’ve stopped dreaming a long time ago.

I had a job for 16 years. It changed my life for the first 10, then quickly deteriorated for the last 6. You’d think I would pray for a new job, new opportunities, an imagination that could hope for a new path. Just something new and wonderful. But my prayer was to endure in a more positive fashion. The site question wouldn’t have made sense. The question from Jesus would’ve been met with silence.

Probably, the most damage we can inflict on our children is to steal their imagination. The adults in the room talk about realistic expectations (which is just another way to open the door for them to join us in dark rooms of despair.) I want to be a superhero. Really? Why? To help people. Because I see injustice. To fix what is broken. Whatever the why, there are a million pathways for that. But I was told, over and over, that it was impossible, that I was wrong and had better craft a Plan B (or C or F) that was more reasonable. Go to college, make money, work in a nice office with a window and fancy title. Get a job and a new car. Wear a suit & tie. Pull your head out of the clouds and chain it to the plow of consumerism. Superheroes aren’t real life.

Except they are. I meet superheroes every day, I see people do extraordinary feats all around. It just takes eyes to see – maybe that’s the point of the interaction between that man and Jesus. We might have our sight, but we sure can’t see. They are (you are) ordinary men & women who haven’t had their dreams dashed on the rocks of ‘good sense,’ who still believe that we can make a difference and change the world, who still believe that every day is a chance to rewrite what is, and create what will be, who love without limit or abandon. Ordinary? No way, they are absolutely superheroes, they just don’t wear capes and cowls.

This is what I get to do. I get to ask those questions, re-frame the conversation, and try to inject some hope back into our lives. This is my dream job, and those grown-ups were wrong, I do get the chance to be a superhero.

1,000 Points

January 14, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

Maybe the least surprising thing to you is that I’m writing today, about this. Last night, my youngest son, named after the prophet Elisha, scored his 1,000th point as a basketball player. It was on a great move, where he was fouled, and the bucket counted, on what’s called an “and-1.” The game stopped, while we all stood and cheered this significant achievement. The Angel, my oldest son, and I were able to go on the court to hug him and take pictures. I told you I’d be the one with the watery eyes, and I was. I think we all were.

Then, less than 5 minutes later, he blocked a shot and, as he came down, rolled his ankle and missed the rest of the game and probably the rest of the week (at least). I may have mentioned (a time or 2 million) that an authentic, fully present life is held with 2 hands, in this case, great celebration and pain, minutes apart.

We all looooved last night, and we went to bed, aching with disappointment. 2 hands.

This young man, my son, and I prayed in the training room. I asked him what hurt more, his heart or his ankle, to which he replied, “same.” His concern was over their hopes at playoffs. Then, later, after the game (a loss), he composed himself and graciously received the accolades and congratulations from those who showed up to love him, thanking every one. In those moments, I could so clearly see my boy becoming the man he will be. Sunday night, I told him that we would be talking so much about his athletic performance, which is considerable, but our love for him has absolutely nothing to do with points or wins. And when I told him last night how proud of him I am, that also had nothing to do with a ball or a hoop.

But as far as a ball and hoop go, these points and this celebration, he earned them. Almost no one sees the hours and hours, the buckets of sweat, the study, the focus he invests. 1,000 points don’t just happen, they are the product of much, much more than 4 – 8 minute quarters. He’s gifted, of course, but he has worked to explore the depth of those gifts, to see what might be possible. An evening in January looks/feels far off on empty courts in June, but they do come.

I wrote a post yesterday about the intense hypocrisy of the adults from Friday’s game (who may have been from Lancaster Mennonite;). Before the game last night, the head coach of our opponents last night found me in the hallway and congratulated me, and asked many questions about my boy. His job was to beat our team, but he was one of those who cared for the boys on both teams. It’s no surprise his son (who I had the privilege/pleasure to know and coach) is so classy and kind. The juxtaposition between the 2 people could not have been more stark, and made Friday’s coach and program look that much worse. I relayed our conversation to my son, and he said how that coach (whose name may have been Chris George, and whose team may have been Northern Lebanon) also spoke with him, and expressed his genuine sadness with the injury. It was a wonderful illustration of the best part of sports.

Now. The real reason I opened my computer to write today was not on the court. The stands were packed full of people who love this beautiful young man. Friends drove hours to be there, made plans, gave up their own valuable time to sit in a gym on a frigid Monday night. You know, we fall in love with Jesus, we intentionally create these lives together, trying to step into our call every day, each moment, choosing our values, deciding who we’ll be and what we believe, and time passes, and we rarely get the opportunity to stand back and see the divine blessings that God has bestowed. Then, you happen to look up from your seat in the stands, and see the people of these lives filing in to love your son, and it is then that you can truly see the love and grace of God.

My post yesterday was, a little, about the dangers of tying Jesus to the actions of His followers. My post today is about the upside of that relationship. As we posed for pictures on the court, teary eyed and full, I looked up into the stands and I saw the faces of our lives, the answers to our prayers, our hope manifest. God may not always give a paved road, full of gobs of money, comfort and ease, but He gives us each other, and that is so much more than enough, so much better.

I am overwhelmed. I am grateful. He has a thousand and three points and I have a ba-zillion thank you’s that I’ll try to give to Him, and to you, with my life.

Youth Sports, pt. 1,000,000

January 10, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

There is a chance my son reaches a pretty significant milestone at his high school basketball game tonight. Whether he does tonight or not, or whether he does at all, is not really the point. I am old enough to have seen many things that were certain fall, and many impossible things happen. I am also wise enough to know the goal isn’t nearly as important as the process.

He’s a very good basketball player. I coached him for one year, when he was 9 or 10. He wasn’t supposed to be on my team, but I was short players and was able to bring him up to play against 11 and 12 year olds. (Maybe I have all of these ages mixed up. They were all very small, and he was 2 years beneath most of the kids in the league.) The team we were playing had a terrific player who did all of the scoring, and my strategy was to match him up with this little boy. I said, only half joking, “you’ll pick him up at half court and lock him up.” We lost, but their player was in a battle, and he knew it.

Lately, all of those stories are going through my head and heart. I watched every practice and game until hight school, when parents were no longer allowed to attend practice, and then I just came to every game. I saw all of these points. As designated rebounder, I saw so many of the offseason shots that go into an accomplishment like this. I have seen all of the repetitions in the weight room, injuries, missed shots, heartbreaks, and SO many fouls uncalled.

One of the Bible passages that are etched deeply into my soul is in Genesis 28. Jacob wakes from a dream and says, “Surely the Lord was in this place, and I was unaware.” To me, this means I can never wake up unaware. Jacob missed God, missed the divine, missed the beauty, the love, the wonder of this beautiful life that he had been given. We have the same opportunity, to open our eyes or not, to like lives awake or asleep. I missed much of my dad, and I don’t want to do it again.

This son is graduating this year and will be going away to college. This is unbelievable. And it is killing me at the same time. An awesome, authentic life requires our presence, and that requires (at least) 2 hands. As the great philosopher Rob Base said, “Joy and pain, sunshine and rain.” All change, even the best one, is also loss, and must be mourned. I am celebrating and mourning.

This is what my grateful heart looks like. Cold, broken, big, soft, everything, all the time. My heart is in perfect working condition.

This is a big deal that may happen tonight, and he deserves it. And I’m proud of him, more than I can tell you. Everybody gets gifts, possibility, a call and an invitation, from Our Creator, but what we do with them is largely left to us. The Spirit prompts, leads, moves our hearts, but allows us to say “no” and stay on the couch. There are a million paths, which one will we choose?

If it happens tonight, and if they stop the game, and if we get to take a picture with him in the moment, I’ll be the one with the red, watery eyes. I’ll be thinking of bringing his small new self home from the hospital, him sleeping on my chest, his surgery, the moments of his life, making him breakfast and holding his hand. I’ll be thinking about Jacob, and if I have been unaware. And I’ll know that I have, in spaces, at times (I’m not even close to a perfect person, after all.) But I have been there, and I’ll be there for as long as I am able.

He has been a gift to me, as has his brother, and the Angel, of course the Angel, who I will stand next to – tonight and every night – on the court and off. It’s a good thing they’re gifts, because there’s NO WAY I could ever dream of paying any of this abundance back.

I hesitate to write about this moment, but as we all walk through this beautiful life, we are learning to lean in together. This isn’t about points, has never been about points, it’s about presence. It’s about showing up to our lives, in honesty and in love. Even at high school basketball games.

Complicated

January 7, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

The site prompt is, ‘What could you do differently?” And I LOVE that question. It’s not what I’m going to write about today, but I imagine I will soon. Today, instead, it’ll be about 2 complicated documentaries that I recently watched.

A British Horror Story is the account of Jimmy Saville, a British celebrity for 40+ years. I don’t remember ever hearing his name, though I think that’s impossible. As you know, I am somewhat of a pop culture aficionado. Maybe I did, but not remembering someone as odd looking as Seville is equally impossible. That someone this unappealing was a star in a visual medium is quite unusual. Anyway, appearances aside, he was as odd and unappealing in his life, as well.

A woman who knew him guessed that she had never seen someone do as much good as he did. He had given years and years, with much fundraising and publicity, for English hospitals, detention spaces, and mental health centers. Of course, he also sexually abused the patients in those facilities, more than 400 formal counts. There’s that.

The Curious Case of Natalia Grace is far more difficult to explain. Natalia is a little person who is either 22 or 35 years old. Either she is a psychopath who tried to murder her adoptive parents without any cause whatsoever, or the victim of horrific physical violence. No one is particularly likable in this series, and it’s totally probably that no one is telling the truth. I haven’t finished all of it. Maybe there is a resolution in the end, but so far, the Angel and I change our opinion on who the real villain is each episode. Is there a villain? Are they all villains? Are they all victims, too?

Now that I’m on this, a really good friend saw the Dylan biopic (featuring the alleged, noted STD super-spreader and terrific actor Timothy Chalamet) and has been obsessed with listening to old records, while trying to reconcile the fact that Dylan was, perhaps, not the nicest person.

I went to see Morrissey in November, and walked around the hotel, wanting him to sign my t-shirt. But only sign my shirt. I don’t want to have a conversation with him, or sit down to dinner together. He and his music absolutely changed my life, but personally, he is widely known as holding many of the characteristics that I actively avoid in others.

This is why I wrote ‘complicated’ documentaries, earlier. People are rarely just one thing. The woman in the Saville doc was right, he did an amazing amount of good, for many people. And he was a complete monster. He, likely, did those good things for one reason: to gain access. All of this is true. In the Natalia Grace series, are they all victims, or are they all villains? Yes. Chalamet is an STD farm (allegedly) and a brilliant artist. Dylan was a genius and a jerk. Morrissey is both the guy you want to listen to on your headphones, and the one you don’t want to talk to in person.

I used to have a need to know which one. Things and people needed to be black or white. Heroes or heels. Good guys or bad guys. Dallas Cowboys or New York Giants.

One of my first idols was, baseball pitcher, Roger Clemens. His stats are nearly unparalleled, and he’s not in the Hall of Fame because he cheated, using truckloads of steroids, and is still lying about it. Now what? Is he the best, or the worst?

The truth is that the answer is neither. We’re all very complex, beautiful and flawed. We’re all capable of great evil and the most selfless love and kindness you’ve ever seen. The inmates in the scariest prisons are someone’s mommy or daddy, another’s son or daughter. I didn’t understood the phrase, “there but for the grace of God go I,” when I was younger. I sure do now.

This is why I watch these documentaries, to hold contradictions and complications, to care well for the flesh and blood people in my own life. To make me a soft place to land.

Pains of Nostalgia

December 31, 2024/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

The site prompt is, “What makes you feel nostalgic?” And, on New Year’s Eve, that feels appropriate. Or at least connected. The truth is, I feel nostalgic quite a bit. Nostalgia is defined as “a wistful or excessively sentimental yearning for return to or of some past period or irrecoverable condition also.” It’s a “feeling of pleasure and also slight sadness.” I don’t think it’s an entirely positive emotion. Nostalgia can be another way we are absent from the present, and there are too many of those.

I get nostalgic for the ‘90’s, even though, if I’m honest, that decade didn’t love me nearly as much as I loved it. I was lost and confused in my personal life, rudderless in my career path, generally hopeless and drifting in a sea that obviously didn’t care if I would swim or drown. Everything felt totally meaningless and random, there wasn’t anything that connected me to the world around me.

But I sure LOVED the music. I still do. I remember hearing the Counting Crows first album, August & Everythng After, for the first time. I cried when I heard “Round Here,” and I still do. I have no idea if any album will mean that much to me ever again. Maybe that’s a good thing, but it makes me sentimentally yearn for that irrecoverable condition. It makes me slightly sad.

I used to buy cds, go home and lay in my bed and read the liner notes/lyrics as I listened through a few times. I knew Sting and Bono’s real name and all of the members of the Goo Goo Dolls. I knew all of the track 9’s. Now, I barely know track 1, or what the album is titled.

That’s good, because I have the Angel and 2 sons, youth sports, and I absolutely know my purpose. I belong, am loved, and am deeply tied to this wonderfully beautiful creation. But all change, all growth, comes with loss. I am listening to a great song that I really like and would have to look to see the song title or artist’s name. (Incidentally, it’s “Bound To You,” by Jocelyn Alice, and I first heard it on an episode of Catfish. I have no idea what Ms. Alice looks like or if she has any other songs I’d like.) I miss knowing those things. I miss the simplicity of college and irresponsibility. I am still quite simple, but I am not at all irresponsible. I wouldn’t change a thing, not one.

This year will be rich and thick with wonder and meaning. I know this, because all days and moments are charged with wonder and meaning. That doesn’t mean they’re good, or feel particularly pleasant, but that sort of knowledge comes with age and attention. Blessing is for those who are aware & awake to see it and be grateful, so I am overwhelmingly blessed.

Anyway, back to the prompt. This is actually a question I have thought about, and the thing that makes me feel nostalgic, far more than anything else, is “Fade Into You,” by Mazzy Star. I have no idea why. I mean, it’s great, but it was never my favorite song. It’s not tied to treasured memories. It’s just awesome and it makes me feel awesome. And slightly sad.

New Years

December 26, 2024/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

Christmas is over, New Years is next week, and it’s the perfect time to take a moment to reflect on the year that was, and will be. That’s what I’m doing, asking all of the questions that I ask every week (here and in most of my sermons): Who am I? Who am I becoming? Is that who I want to become? Where are the blind spots in my life that need to be addressed? What needs extra attention?

It’s not so much goal setting, as it is route setting. I care far less about where I eventually end up, as the person that ends up making the journey. Maybe that’s because I would have never, in 2 million years, picked anything about the person I am or the life this particular person has to circle on a vision board (if I were to ever be forced to create a vision board.) And this person and this life infinitely eclipses everything for which I could’ve dreamed.

So, I think about the values and characteristics 5 years from now me might hold, and set a navigation plan to develop them. But the course is in pencil, or dry erase, just in case the Spirit corrects this course to one more suited to the person I’m called to be.

I choose a word for the year. In the past it was release, gratitude, rest…oh yes, release. I think release was several of the past 10 years. You see, I have historically had trouble with expectations and control – this is one of those blind spots that required many years of digging to excavate. But once it was out, it became obvious that it was causing so much fear, anxiety, stress and distress. It needed to be foremost in my mind to critique. Maybe expectations aren’t awful all the time, are they? No, is what I discovered, and now I can tell you the specific times they aren’t. Same with control. These things aren’t necessarily toxic, but they certainly can be. I just need to be able to tell the difference, and that took (is taking) years and years of intention.

Are there things in my life that need to be left behind? Or are there things that I need to begin? The short answer is yes, of course. If our answer is no, then maybe a little self-awareness is the one to be added.

Where have I been unhealthy, and from that, where can I tale steps to be healthier? This isn’t just sugar or trans fats or exercise, it’s sleep and generational curses and bad theology and hypocrisy and sleep and negative patterns and addictions and lies we’ve believed that were lies then and are lies now (or maybe weren’t then but sure are now) and and and.

It’s no secret I love New Years, but not just January 1 New Years. I love new years, and they start anytime we say they start. This time of year is just a convenient calendar replacement that serves as a loud invitation. But they can start next Monday or last Thursday, in January or July. They just need to start, right? So, here we are, ringing in the new year and the next chapters in our new lives, together.

Love With A Capital L

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

Author: The Bridge Faith Community