2025-09-01T15:40:39+00:00

Home at College

September 1, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I’m not watching much tv, outside of Fisk, repeating the 3 seasons. And when I get through them for the second time, I’ll start on the 3rd. I’m listening to Kitty Flanagan’s book 488 Rules For Life, and probably, when it’s over, I’ll just restart that, too. (Maybe not, there is another book to dig into. But as good as this one about the Rules is, maybe I won’t.)

My youngest son is now entering his 2nd week in college. My college experience was really, really awful. It’s no exaggeration to say I hated almost every day, with 2 big exceptions.

The first is that I played baseball, and I loved playing baseball, at a every level. Incidentally, I had a dream that lasted 22 years to play professionally, and I worked and worked, went to all of the all-star games, attended several open tryouts. But alas, I was not good enough. There is no shame in this, and I feel no shame at all telling you. I gave all I had to my dream (at the time, it was the only thing I could have said that about), and have zero regrets. I heard someone say, no matter what level you stop playing, you only stop playing because you’re not good enough for the next level, and that is almost never not true (no matter what the dads in the stands at high school football games say.) I was a college baseball player, and loved it 3,000.

The other exception was, obviously, the Angel. I met her in my junior year (which was not my 3rd year – I was on the extended plan;), and began dating her in my last semester. (It was a very good thing I was on that extended plan, I would have been long gone by that last semester if I was more focused and motivated.) She’s better than baseball, and I love her way more than 3,000.

Anyway, my boy sent me a video of a classmate playing his guitar and singing along with a girl who may or may not be a romantic interest. The song was “Home,” by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros – you know it, here’s the first verse and chorus:

Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my ma and pa, not the way that I do love you… Well, holy moly, me oh my, you’re the apple of my eye, Girl, I never loved one like you… Man oh man, you’re my best friend, I scream it to the nothingness, there ain’t nothing that I need… Well, hot and heavy pumpkin pie, cotton candy, Jesus Christ, there ain’t nothing please me more than you … Oh, home, let me come home, home is wherever I’m with you. Oh, home, let me come home, home is wherever I’m with you.

You know it, right? You love it, too. I know you do, because everybody does. The only people that don’t are those who are trying to have a too cool, imagined elitist, take – those people you don’t want to hang out with anyway. They are not your friends.

This college guitarist was surprisingly good, and the 2 of them sang together, and that was also surprisingly good. I watched the video several times, and since I’m a sucker for this type of beauty, I do hope she’s a romantic interest for my boy. But here’s the thing that’s more important, that I texted him his morning: this is what I want college to be, for him. A space with the free exchange of stories, ideas,

(I’ll continue in a second, but it seems important to tell you that, right now, outside my front door, the Angel has returned from her walk and is singing out loud while she stretches. I have the best life and it is rare that I forget that simple fact. I’m going to kiss her in a second.)

…free exchange of stories, ideas, talents, and hearts. This is also what I think the Church is, lots and lots of people being exactly who they are, and that who they are is accepted, appreciated, embraced, and loved by the others who are also being exactly who they are. These are places where we are invited to share ourselves, with vulnerability and complete authenticity.

He responded, “I really love it here.” Of course, you do, buddy. We all do, it’s home.

Creativity

August 19, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

The site prompt, today (or yesterday, since I didn’t finish it last night), was, “What do you enjoy most about writing?” I’ll tell you the truth, reader & AI program that chooses these prompts, I love almost everything about writing.

I embrace the possibility of the blank page/screen – at least, usually I do. Of course, sometimes, it’s terrifying, but I read this book by Stephen King once and he said, just write something, anything. That’s been great advice, because then, after a few words that are banal and meaningless, voilà, the page is no longer blank and far less intimidating.

I value the time. I write by myself, listening to music, in a fluffy recliner. While it’s not silent, it’s quiet, peaceful.

But to answer the prompt, what I enjoy most is the self-discovery. There have been countless times where the words & ideas flow in unexpected ways, opening my eyes to how I really feel and believe. I just start with questions and feel around in the dark for myself. This is what I’ve heard called an “inward journey.” There are no rules or judgment in writing like this, just the free expression of a person in progress. Maybe this writing is why I enjoy the “in progress” part of me so much. (Not the actual stretching, but the growth…maybe just in hindsight.)

Another thing I like most is the creation of a new thing (whether fiction or non, novel, short story, poem, post, or sermon). What did not exist, now does. We breathe life into work that will outlive and outreach us. I can get people I will never meet from all over the world reading the words I type from my fluffy chair. The pages and pages I’ve written, my boys could read long after I’m gone. (Probably they wouldn’t, but they could, right?) I don’t think this is a delusion of a narcissist, it’s much closer to our divine design. We are created in the image of a wildly creative God, with the purpose of spreading His love, His word, His Story, to the ends of the earth. Why wouldn’t that be what we do, however we do it?

So, I see now that the last paragraph could be called connection, and writing, especially in an immediate, interesting format like this, does that in a way few other mediums can. I can do this, open my heart in an authentic, vulnerable way, and we can find the common ground we’re all searching for.

My son goes to college in 2 days. This is the most wonderful pain I have experienced. It’s a new set of emotions. The order of things that I’m used to is: 1. I feel pain and wish I didn’t. 2. Later on, (months/years), I see how valuable that pain was, and become resigned to my own gratitude. This one is different. I am fully, overwhelmingly grateful as it is tearing my heart out and breaking it. I am proud, excited, would not even consider stunting this very natural, beautiful part of his becoming, his own journey. I will just miss him terribly.

At funerals, I have come to find that those who are only broken hearted are the luckiest. Some (most?) of us have some complex mixture or regret, anger, frustration, and on and on. What a gift it is to simply grieve. Those sad tears are a blessing that is pretty rare, honestly.

This is like that. I’m not afraid or hesitant. There isn’t mourning over times I’ve missed. He is all I could have ever hope for, our time has been better than the best, and he is ready to change this whole world by simply being in it. The Angel & I are healthy. We cry and we laugh and we encourage, all in it’s time, whenever it comes. I was mushy in line at Hersheypark yesterday because I felt mushy in line at Hersheypark yesterday. Then, we had an awesome time of joyful presence. We’re just here.

Having said all of that, do you know what I mean? Of course, you do. We’re not the first to do this, won’t be the last. Maybe you know about funerals or fear or regret. Maybe you understand me in ways you didn’t, or maybe you understand your neighbor or co-worker in ways you didn’t. Through these posts, we see that we are all human beings, created by the same loving God, sharing so much more than there could ever be different. And maybe that’s why God made us in His image, with the ability to do our own creating. To grow closer and learn how to love each other. It might not be writing, it might be cooking, organization, interior design, or anything else. But what it is is an offering, to each other and the God that so made all of this beauty.

Wedding Clothes

August 11, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I sometimes get the privilege of officiating weddings, of getting to say “Do you,” and “kiss your Bride,” and filling out legal paperwork that ties people together forever. I fully recognize the statistics that say we have about the same chance of forever as a quarter has of landing on heads, I just don’t care. I don’t have to acknowledge it, I can believe it’s forever.

This couple had been together since the 8th grade, through braces, high school graduations, college in different cities, injuries, long distances, COVID, and Trump, twice! Their book had the sweetest pictures you’ve ever seen of every awkward, beautiful step.

Their guests filed in, early and immaculate.

I mention it, because this is not as usual as you’d like to think. Some are late (some significantly so), some come in jean shorts & cut off t-shirts, and some take the opportunity of someone else’s wedding to make a mess. I had one Bride’s mother show up late for an outdoor wedding in a park, and drive by slowly, uncomfortably close to the people, and through, never bothering to stop and attend. This isn’t only guests. Once, a Groom wore a tank top and gym shorts to his own wedding to a woman in a perfect white dress.

I would tell you I mind, and I probably do. But that tank top wedding was awesome, some underdressed guests were wonderful surprises to the couple, and really, who cares how you are there, as long as you are there, right? I don’t necessarily like our casual culture, where every time & place is the same as any other. We “come as we are” everywhere we are. Of course, I’d like some separation. I’d like to set apart some moments. A wedding simply isn’t a ballgame. I’d like to bring back church clothes. But I’m the pastor and I wear shorts and untucked shirts all summer long, so there’s that.

We can agree that some things are just more important, like heart postures. Clothes aren’t everything, are they? Nope. But they can certainly tell a story, (not the whole story, obviously), and give a window to the posture of the heart. They can speak volumes. The look of the guests at this wedding sure did.

I imagine that the women bought new dresses and shoes (who cares where they bought them or how much they spent???) for this day, they started doing their hair and makeup in the morning. The men bought new ties, shaved, and wore fancy socks and pants that fit. They reflected on this couple, who they desperately love, as they did it all, and respected them, the day, the amount of money and time that was invested in the ceremony, and the grace of the God who made all of this possible. That’s what I imagine, and you can’t convince me otherwise. They came and gave their very best to this moment…because this moment deserved it.

Now. That sort of implies that some moments don’t, and I don’t believe that, either. Maybe that’s the justification behind our super-casual, dressing down. And maybe that’s where I can argue. Maybe instead of bringing everything down to the level of picnics and McDonalds, maybe we can acknowledge the significance of every second, every place, every person. Maybe McDonald’s shouldn’t be eaten in the car and maybe we shouldn’t show up late to anything. Maybe we could eat on the fine china for sandwiches with our spouses? Maybe we should raise the consciousness and treat everything like the blessing it is? Maybe we can just start with this moment and go from there?

Transmogrification

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

I’m not so sure “transmogrification” is a word – I read it in Calvin & Hobbes, that means it is, to me. Of course, it’s a word. The only question is if it’s in the dictionary, but we have mostly decided that the grammar/vocabulary/spelling rules we learned in school don’t matter, as a culture, so I won’t even bother to spend the 3 seconds to look it up. I’ll use it as a perfectly acceptable synonym for transformation.

(Why would I not just use ‘transformation,’ then? That’s a good point. 1. I love Calvin & Hobbes and like remembering the comics. They make me the best kind of nostalgic, and they make me think of my brother in law. 2. Transformation, especially in the context I’ll be using it, can be one of those words derogatorily called Christian-ese – like, for instance, fellowship – and I generally avoid those.)

I am in a process of transmogrification. This summer is a season of intense “stretching,” where I’m climbing in a box, a transmogrifier, and will exit as something quite different. I don’t know what that is, yet. I’m trying to simply change, naturally, acknowledging/embracing a lack of control, as if I’m in the trunk being driven somewhere. This is new. Usually, I overthink and try to steer… or at least give my input on the “best” route. I apply pressure, the unavoidable weight of significance, and sometimes it is gives exactly the right amount of beautiful care, other times this pressure squeezes the air right out of the flight.

I used “acknowledge/embrace” in that last paragraph. Do I truly lack control? Maybe. Maybe not. Sometimes animals behave differently when they’re being observed, right? They always behave differently when they’re being manipulated. I call it participation, but it’s easy to cross an already blurry line into hammering square pegs into round holes. I’m trying to avoid that line altogether, let this process be absolutely (I CANNOT think of the word I want to use, here!! It is a word that means unhindered, it will be what it is ‘supposed to be,’ just following the next thing, taking the next step in front of me, without my often-arrogant planning. Anyway.) Patient, but not passive. Not choking the journey or the Guide, allowing the Spirit to work, lead, while I am quietly listening.

Of course, there is a different, unconsidered possibility. What if the transmogrifer is not changing me? What if everything else (the environment, circumstance, atmosphere – the trees, grass, clouds) is spinning, while I stay the same? Not “stay the same” as in lazy stagnation, but standing where I am, in my identity, in Truth, as the pieces of my life are rearranged. Can we remain solidly grounded & consistent in a hurricane of movement? Maybe this is a season for an anchor.

It’s interesting how changing the frame gives the painting a brand new look & feel. You see details previously overlooked, things you thought were integral are ancillary, colors take on new meaning. Maybe that’s really why I chose transmogrify, and maybe it’s not a direct synonym at all. Writing is such a valuable, enlightening practice, because where you begin is so rarely where you end, and you learn so much along the way. Maybe that’s what transmogrification is, a turn (sometimes subtle, practically unnoticeable, or seismic), leaving us in a gorgeous new world.

Many Weddings

July 21, 2025July 21, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I began this post over a year ago, and it sat in my draft folder until today. Here it is:

“Over 2 weeks some months ago, I had the honor and privilege of officiating 2 very different wedding ceremonies. The first one was at a gorgeous venue, was big and fancy, everything and everyone looking like they had fallen straight out of a magazine. Back in my day, there were magazines, sort of like glossy colorful newspapers. Well, I guess a better example, since newspapers don’t exist anymore, is a physical website you can hold in your hands. The second was very small and intimate, only family, held under a tent in a backyard. They were stunning but taken from a different magazine.

I have done big & fancy before, and sometimes it means time, attention, resources, given to one of the most significant events in 2 people’s lives. They commit their lives to each other and to the God who created them and loves them dearly. Other times it means pomp and superficiality, empty cost, an excuse for a giant party in our honor.

And I have done small & intimate, and sometimes it means stripping down any artifice, until it’s only 2 people and the God who created them and loves them dearly, committing their lives to each other. Others, it’s cheap and easy, simply a box checked with as little disruption as possible.”

I’m sharing it with you today because I’m thinking about weddings. Saturday, 2 of our friends married in a small-ish ceremony that was absolutely gorgeous. The way they looked at each other, gave themselves to each other, it was lovely and affirmed all of our hope in an institution that is increasingly disposable. At dinner, my son finished his “champagne” before the toast, and we learned that toasting with anything other than champagne (real or otherwise) is bad luck. I don’t know if the bad luck is for the couple or the one toasting with a substitute (the superstition rings of a marketers invention, though, right?), but I said, “They don’t need our luck. They’ll be fine.”

I suppose everyone says that, but in this case, I feel that it is comfortably true.

Anyway, like I said, I get to officiate lots of weddings. This wasn’t mine to perform, I just sat, empty handed, and soaked in their love & commitment. But I’ve seen so many, with so many people, so many wonderful stories, getting married for very good (and not so very good) reasons. The earlier draft post was, actually, more like 3 or 4 years ago, and I remember the 2 like they happened this morning.

I love people in love, Jesus, and His gift of marriage. Many of us try to find any excuse to miss weddings and funerals, but I find them inspiring, sometimes the only spaces where we can find authenticity in a fake world. But like everything else, other times that authenticity is grossly absent. You can find pretense in gigantic weddings just as well as in living room weddings. And you can also find the searing image-making that makes board rooms so insufferable at the altar.

But I like to think that it’s less likely.

People dress in all sorts of ways, too. I can’t tell if it’s image-making to dress in a sharply tailored suit or in a sleeveless tee & jeans. Probably both. Each stands out in their own way, at times. I am an old-fashioned man, in many ways, so I happen to believe that propriety is dictated by the situation. Using this definition, anything that wrestles attention away from the bride (and, to a lesser extent, the groom) is wildly inappropriate. Officiants are often inappropriate, as are the family members who can’t help but to argue and make a mess all over someone else’s big day.

And now I’m thinking of a wedding I did about 2 years ago for a young couple – one I’d place in my top 5 ever. As the first guests began to arrive, I noticed a bizarre steampunk aesthetic that I initially believed was a ridiculous costume. (Ridiculous not because it was steampunk, which is super-interesting and cool, but because it felt like an obvious attention grab.) But then, more and more steampunks filled the space, and the atmosphere took on a distinct, fascinating, connected vibe that is impossible to manufacture. They were a big, extended family who shared actual, lived-in, lives. It was so intentional, everyone was perfectly dressed, I imagined they had meticulously planned their outfits.

The reason it’s in my top 5 is the reason we love anything: Because the people involved are present and hopeful, they are a community of different people who all love this couple and love & celebrate each other, in their lives. Big, small, well-planned, years in advance, or elopements, all weddings create new worlds, but no matter what they look like, it’s the heart behind them that decide if they’re worlds actually worth creating.

expectations

June 19, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

We have a summer family vacation every year. I’m always thrilled with it, as it is a time to (mostly) disconnect from devices and the strength taskmaster of the planet Busy, and connect with each other. Last year, it was also a time of pretty significant transformation for me – as I was in the ocean, a big beautiful Truth swam right up to me and punched me in the face. It’s not much of an overreach to say it changed me forever. I expected it again this year.

We usually stay in a hotel, but this year I chose to book with an Airbnb. Instead of 2 beds in 1 room, we would have different rooms, a kitchen and a living room. There would be privacy, time and space. I know there are many kinds of Airbnb’s, from mansions to single rooms in apartments. I am also sure that the one I chose was properly described. I just had a different picture in my head that I was expecting.

The Angel had wrapped up the school year 2 days before we left. Often, we go a few weeks after the end, after she has a solid start on her summer school responsibilities. This year, we left immediately, to allow her to breathe and decompress on the sand, before those responsibilities began. I expected her to easily transition from the extra-stressful end-of-year to the peaceful vacation state of rest.

Our summer vacation was outstanding, but…

Counting Crows released August & Everything After on September 14, 1993, and it remains a perfect album. When their next album, Recovering The Satellites, came out, we all expected another A+ album, and it was fine. But it was not our expectations and paled in comparison to the album in our heads.

The Goo Goo Dolls have never released an A+ album, they’re all pretty much in the B+ to C range. Some songs (like “We Are The Normal”) are really great, and some are absolutely unlistenable. This is what we expect from the Goo Goo Dolls, and they rarely disappoint. We don’t expect anything different, anything more. If Counting Crows would release a Goo Goo Dolls album, with great songs sitting neatly next to trash, it would be widely considered THE WORST ALBUM OF ALL TIME. But in our minds, it’s just a solid Goo Goo Dolls album.

Our opinion has very little to do with the actual album, it’s our interpretation of it, seen through the paradigm of our expectations.

Nothing life changing happened, the Airbnb was a 2 room ‘motel,’ with virtually no privacy or quiet space. The Angel needs the days to decompress to regain some semblance of control before we go. All of my expectations were wrong. I expected myself to be slow, easy, and fully present. I was mistaken about that, too. Expectations make presence nearly impossible, because we’re focused on how it is supposed to be.

In hindsight, our vacation was wonderful. I just wish I had taken some more time to enjoy it, free of the weight of should’s & supposed to’s. As a matter of fact, I want to take that last sentence into my life, to smash all expectations I have for things and people and myself, and just enjoy them as the beautiful gifts they/we are. I’m finding that gratitude and expectation are probably mutually exclusive.

But, now that I think about it, maybe that is the Truth of this trip. Maybe it was more transformative than I guessed. Maybe the laughter of the board games, the softness of the Angel’s tanned skin and lovely smile, and the time just eating, walking, swimming, and putting on suntan lotion, together, was the best gift of all. I wonder if this mindful look back is exactly what I needed to see it for what it was…

Maybe it was actually better than I expected.

Anniversary

May 27, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

[The Angel & I have 2 sons, and the youngest one graduates from high school Friday. I’ll write about that next week, when it has passed and I have some sort of handle on my overflowing emotions. I also can’t seem to shake the notion that the 2nd season of Andor will help me with that handle. Who knows?]

I just told you that the Angel & I have 2 sons – you might be interested to know that, today, we will have been married for 24 years. This is the year that she will have been married to me for more years of her life than she has not. (I’m not there quite yet.) That feels like a monumental milestone. I guess it’s not, but it sure does feel like it.

So, I’ll tell you what we did to celebrate this anniversary. We went out to lunch/dinner yesterday and then went shopping for a Graduation Dress. When we go clothes shopping for her, she allows me to choose up to 5 items that she will try on along with the ones she chooses. There’s almost zero chance she’ll want any of my 5, but that’s not the point at all. If you’ve ever seen her, you know she’s an absolutely fox. She has a perfect figure, like a little guitar, and I love to see her in interesting styles and fabrics. Yesterday, she graciously waived the 5 maximum rule, and I filled our cart.

As I was standing outside the fitting room, I started thinking about being married to her for so long. She is way out of my league, far better than I could have ever dreamed of, yet here we are. I don’t know how this happened, and like to say, “but that’s her problem,” as if it’s hilarious, which it is. But it’s also true.

When I was young, we’d go to Hersheypark and I loved it like crazy. But I’d, almost immediately, start thinking how I didn’t want to leave, didn’t want the day to be over.. Or Christmas morning, the melancholy of the end being over would set in while we were still opening presents. Sometimes, it’s hard to be present for the most wonderful moments, because we’re waiting for the end. The first time I saw Morrissey in concert, as I sang along, I cried because I wanted it to last forever. How many of the best moments of my life, how many of the greatest gifts, did I miss simply because I was elsewhere in my mind?

Probably very early in our relationship, I expected her to wake up and move on, but I said a cool thing to her that changed both of our lives. (I don’t know if she knows how much it changed mine.) Usually, you think of the perfect thing to say as you walk away, right? Once in my life, it came at exactly the right time. She was very hesitant to step into our relationship with both feet – for lots of reasons – and I said, “what makes you think I’ll wait,” (honestly, it doesn’t sound that awesome now, it kind of sounds arrogant and posturing, maybe you had to be there, maybe you had to be us) and then something like, we can spend our lives waiting for something that is right here, right now, and end up thinking about how we missed it. I was not telling the truth, I would have waited for a million years, but she wasn’t the only one tip-toeing into us. I believed she would leave, eventually, so, like Christmas morning, I waited for the end.

When I said that supercool line, I was talking about waiting for her, but I was waiting for me, too.

Jacob wakes up in the wilderness and realizes God has always been there, he just wasn’t aware. That is one of the biggest tragedies I can think of, that we are in the midst of the divine, of the amazing, of our lives, of this love, and we just walk on by, as if it’s common, or ordinary. My wife is not ordinary, not even close, and neither is our marriage. Our lives aren’t ordinary, and neither are yours. These are all gifts from Our Creator, if we only have eyes to see and hearts to hold them.

We made this decision, so it doesn’t matter at all if she’s in my league. What matters is that we’re here, we’re 24 years in, and my vows 24 years ago are still true, maybe more than ever – that I couldn’t promise her easy or lots of money or that I wouldn’t be ridiculously high maintenance, but I could promise that I’d love her. What I left out, that I was thinking about outside of that changing room, is what I should have also promised; that I would be there, I would show up, I would not wish for her to get done trying clothes on already, I would not miss these moments shopping, I would never call us ordinary, I would not miss her and this. I will keep loving her. I will not miss us.

I think it’s possible that God wants us to be fully present to our lives, reminds us over and over, in parables and poems and songs and stories, is because He knows what He has made, how awesome it is, what He has for us, how awesome that is, and knows the importance of gratitude and worship in keeping us awake to the wonder of each other and our lives, and Him. I am more grateful than I could ever tell you, for not just today, not just her, but for all of the days and moments and people who have made everything so beautiful and full. And to/for the One Who made, is making, them all.

New Ways

May 5, 2025May 5, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

Before we dive in, I wrote a post called Characters a few weeks ago, and received this super-sweet comment from a reader named pealsabdallah: “beautiful! AI-Powered Stethoscope Detects Heart Disease Early 2025 alluring.” Thank you, pealsabdallah, I think I’ll check out this AI-powered stethoscope that is so alluring, for sure.

I’ve heard that many accounts buy “followers” to boost their numbers, thus making them appear more attractive to advertisers. Maybe I’ll do that, too, if all of these pseudo-accounts are as kind as pealsabdallah.

I knew almost nothing about Twitter before last weekend, when I watched a documentary (on Max) called “Breaking The Bird.” It was very good, like the best soap operas. Founders were fired through back room shenanigans, only to be fired themselves through back room shenenigans, oodles of money was made & lost, everybody received death threats, and it all finally ended (as many things do) with Elon Musk.

I have a Twitter account, but never made one tweet. I was only a tourist. I’m mostly a tourist on Instagram, too. Now, though, I do wish I had engaged. It seemed to be a very interesting experiment, vital and alive. Maybe it failed. Whether it failed is hard to define. As Vision said to Ultron, (referring to humanity itself) “a thing isn’t beautiful because it lasts.”

Now Twitter is X and, sadly, nobody cares anymore. I missed the window.

One of the creators, Jack Dorsey, said, “I wanted to show the world a new way to see itself.” That quote is the primary reason I wish I had participated in Twitter. (I think that’s what we’re all doing, every day, with any work of art. I think it’s what the Bible does. It’s definitely what Jesus did.) It speaks to an extraordinary naïveté that I find incredibly refreshing and commendable, worthy of it’s inclusion in the history books.

This naïveté spurred these 3 to build a space where people could connect and discover themselves and their environment, without a trace of awareness that we can’t be trusted at all. If there is a thing, we will ruin it. Everybody knows that. Except for these 3, apparently. How could they have guessed that politicians would use their platform to espouse the most extremely nasty, venomous lies? Easy. A better question is, how could they not???

Is it reasonable to think killers would post videos of themselves killing? Of course. Or to believe people full of hate would direct that hate to ooze all over this platform? Obviously.

Now. I do have a new question, one that’s far more interesting to me. (Though, admittedly, that’s not that big of a deal. People being awful and lying their faces off is one of the least interesting things going.)

But first, do you remember Jeff Goldblum’s character in Jurassic Park, who said, “Yeah, yeah, but your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could that they didn’t stop to think if they should.”

Do they have to think about if they should, based on our propensity for evil? Does everything have to be considered through the filter of the lowest common denominator? If I invent a hammer to build, is it my responsibility to realize that we’d hit each other with it? Was it up to the Twitter founders to plan for the worst of our behavior? Isn’t it enough to make something beautiful, out of pure motives? Maybe not, but then that would mean nothing new would ever happen. No one would paint or sing or write. We ruin everything…does that mean we shouldn’t have anything??

And, with that kind of pessimism (realism?), where is the hope for us? Who will call us up? Into what? Can we evolve into better versions of ourselves?

And then I think of Oppenheimer’s bomb. Maybe it is true, maybe we shouldn’t have anything.

Political Disease

March 24, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I fully recognize that part of this post will, most likely, be met with angry indignation. As a population, almost 99% of us voted to affirm the American 2 party political machine. We voted that we do not, in fact, deserve better. I disagree with this affirmation, but that makes complete sense.

My generation has not seen one day when our government has been a source of integrity, positive change, comfort, or hope. (The possible exception is Jimmy Carter, who, by all accounts, was a good man, if not a terrific President, but what happened in Washington D.C. before we were in grade school doesn’t really count as an influence.) Instead, it has been an abysmal embarrassment in an otherwise great country. (We can no longer conflate the government with the country – the country is the people that make it up, and not the entity that sits in the “high” places, thinking themselves gods.) We have never known a moment when it has been the answer, it has always been the problem.

That’s what has made the past year so difficult to take. In my line of work, I have seen (and cried with) beautiful humans who have had relationships crumble and fall, who have left groups and organizations, based solely on who may or may not have received our vote. What this means is that we have exchanged those folks who bring us soup when we are sick, know our kids names and where they’re going to school, who pray for us, help us move, share our meals and homes, who laugh & cry with us, for a group of people who not only don’t know us, but don’t like us, and would kick us instead of step over us if we were in their way.

I heard someone say, “the ocean doesn’t care if you drown or not, but God wants you to swim.” If this is true, why would anyone turn from God in favor of the ocean? Why would we leave the ones we sit with at youth sports games, or who live next door, in favor of the ocean? That analogy breaks down quickly when we realize the political system is not the ocean. The ocean is indifferent. The ocean will be the ocean with or without us. The government is not indifferent, faking smiles while using us to sustain their power, and if we happen to not agree, will do anything/everything to squish us. Of course, a poorly kept secret is that it will squish supporters, as well.

This is an abusive relationship that we refuse to leave. “But he looooves meee.” No, he doesn’t. If actions are a true reflection, an overflow of the heart, he quite clearly hates us. And 99% of us simply won’t leave.

If you believe in a spiritual enemy, like the devil, you know that one of his most important tactics is division. There is a God of unity, and an enemy of division. What does it say about someone/something that uses that same method of attack? Does it say anything good?

Why do we continue to fight so bitterly to support this hell-ish downward spiral of violent abuse? And, again, why would we throw away those who care for us to defend the aggressively destructive elephant and/or donkey?

Now. If the politicians are not the solution, if the government is not the answer, then what is? I think about this a lot, and I am more and more convinced that there are 2 answers.

In a time-less, eternal sense, Jesus is. The God of the Bible gives freely & abundantly, (no matter what we may have heard elsewhere.) He cares for us, rescues us, wants us all to swim.

And in a temporal, earthly sense, The Church is. This one is a bit more complex, due to all of the damage we have caused throughout the years. But It’s origin is as a community of people who follow a God Who loves without cause or reason, who brings us all inside, accepts, forgives, encourages, gets drinks for the thirsty, food for the hungry. These people pray for, care for, serve, and will teach us to swim, and until then, will put us on their backs and swim for us.

Yes, obviously, The Church has not been all it could, or was supposed to, be, but if you’ve been inside for any length of time, a second or a lifetime, I guarantee you’ve seen at least one example of selfless beauty that gave you hope for a better world. When have any of us seen an instant of selflessness in the political realm?

As my optimism for reclamation of our government is dashed on the rocks of reality over and over, my resolve for The Church gains strength. My vision for politics is hopelessly naive, broken into tiny shards of unrecognizable debris, and is only shared by 1% of citizens, so I’m finally willing to let it die. This is what we get, politically, this disease.

However, as human beings, created by a loving God in His own image, in/by/for love, our future is assured…and it is wonderful. There are several passages that “set a choice” before us. Choose life or death. Choose this day who we will serve. And those several passages urge us, in the strongest possible language, to choose life, to swim.

I don’t know why or when we decided to choose anything else, but I do know (and have 1 zillion reasons) why it’s time to let that go and, instead, choose life, choose The Church, and, especially, choose Jesus.

Hunchbacks

March 18, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

All 4 of us (the Angel, both boys, and myself) spent Sunday afternoon in a local high school auditorium watching their spring musical, The Hunchback of Norte Dame. I’ve seen them perform Mary Poppins and Anastasia the 2 previous years, and you would think I’d start to expect a certain level of excellence. Yet, every year, I am left awed. We go to see a student actor who we just love to pieces, and I am always surprised by his talent, too.

I was unfamiliar with The Hunchback of Norte Dame (as I was with Mary Poppins & Anastasia). If it was a book, I didn’t read it, I never saw the Disney cartoon, so I walked in blissfully blank. It’s pretty dark, to tell you the truth. There is religion, sex, assault, death, gypsies, and, obviously, a hunchback. (I won’t spoil anything about it, just in case you haven’t seen it – you probably should.)

The last song ended with these lyrics: “Someday. Life will be kinder. Love will be blinder. Some new afternoon. Godspeed this bright millennium. Hope lives on. Wish upon the moon. Let it come one day.” You can already guess it’s not the feel good hit of the summer. Then, “And we wish we could leave you a moral. Like a trinket you hold in your palm. But here is a riddle to guess if you can. Sing the bells of Notre Dame. What makes a monster. And what makes a man.”

Everyone in the story is a label; Father, brother, gypsy, hunchback, soldier, stone, martyr, villain, and on and on. And all of them prove greater than the box in which they are relegated. They all transcend, for better or worse, becoming more and more human (for all that means.) I even thought the musical did the same, giving us the respect to not leave it too tidy and glossy, to leave us wide open, questioning, wondering, confused, broken and angry with a world that is hardly ever tidy and glossy. We’re all kind of broken and confused with our own world, looking for happy endings and finding few.

What makes a monster, and what makes a man? The question reminds me of a song that asks, Is evil something we are, or something we do? We’re all monsters, all men, or at least all have the capacity to be everything. We’re all villains, sometimes. Maybe the real danger is in our blindness to that fact.

But we’re also all heroes, too. Both/And. Quasimodo had choices, all throughout. Stay inside, watching a world on fire, watching Esmeralda burn, or leave, engage, act. Of course, he makes that choice. He braves a cruel, cold society for just one reason: love. It’s probably the same reason that impels any of us to act in a positive direction. We can choose our own selves, comfort, power, or we can choose to try our very best to bring healing to others, to a creation crying out in pain.

(I’m about to write something that is going to sound – and totally is – embarrassingly cheesy, but one of the blessings of being as old as I am is that I don’t care at all;) We are the hunchbacks of our worlds. We want to cower from a harsh, often nasty environment that sees us as hopeless outcasts. This environment protects itself, at any and all costs. It stifles beauty it doesn’t understand. But the divine can’t be extinguished, beauty perseveres, it’s just so hard to see sometimes. Some new afternoon, love will be blinder, life will be kinder, right? I left that show with tears in my eyes, but a big strong overflow of hope in my heart.

Great art does that, over and over- stretches the limits of the possible. Yes, sure, now can feel dark and overwhelmed, but the dark isn’t forever. If this can happen… If a person can create this loveliness in a high school in central Pennsylvania, with a huge group of teenagers that have been gifted hand over fist with this sort of passion and heart… If Quasimodo can affect the culture of his world, with his own gifts, despite his flaws, then anything can happen. Anything. So, we hunchbacks sing the bells of Norte Dame. Let it be one day. Let it be today.

Love With A Capital L

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

Tag: beauty