2025-09-22T17:25:02+00:00

Super, Man

September 22, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

Last post, we talked about Sarah, now we’ll talk about Superman. I don’t know what ties them together – maybe there’s some thread (no mater how thin) that could philosophically link the two – but, for today, for the purpose of this post, the only thing they have in common is me.

The newest Superman movie was released this year, the first in the James Gunn DCU reboot. I recognize it’s entirely possible that you have no idea what the words in the 2nd half of that sentence mean, but that’s not too important. It’s superheroes and comic book movies. Sometimes, they’re terrific, using the extraordinary circumstances to discuss very real, very human, situations and relationships. And sometimes, they’re not terrific, just capes and CGI. Superman is mostly terrific.

In 1998, Gus Van Sant directed Psycho, starring Vince Vaughn. It’s probably best to call it a cover version of the original. Of course, cover versions are usually used for music, but this was a shot-for-shot remake, like a new band playing the same chords, singing the same lyrics, ostensibly trying to bring something new to the material. This Psycho didn’t, though. It was dumb and absolutely pointless, and since then, the question, “why?” has been in my head when a new/old character is introduced. In this case, is it really necessary to create another universe with another Superman? And, oh baby, it really is.

There’s a scene where Lois is criticizing Superman, saying, “My point is I question everything and everyone. You trust everyone and think everyone you ever met is, like…beautiful.” That’s why it’s necessary, vital, here & now.

We are a world, generations deep, of Loises. We question, doubt, distrust. We’re cynical and jaded, probably for very good reason. But our new humanity (in-humanity) is not conducive in any way to connection or relationship. So, we’re isolated in our room, on our screens, creating stories in our heads about “them,” stripping them of any similarities to ourselves, making the incivility and violence, not only possible, but inevitable. When schools, or anywhere, are shot up (over 300 mass shootings in the US so far this year), they don’t even make the news and we hardly blink. Charlie Kirk is murdered because of what? A difference in perspective? Maybe you don’t like his point of view, maybe I don’t, maybe you and I do, but to elevate a disagreement into an excuse for a wife to lose her husband and his children to lose their daddy is…very…predictable. We were sad, horrified (no matter your politics, because a human being lost his life), but we were not surprised.

This culture of division and hatred is not one any of us truly want to live in, so we don’t just want Superman. We need Superman.

I don’t know if we find the art or fictional stories because we’re a certain way, or if we’re a certain way because of the art and stories we consume, but when Lois pseudo-insulted Superman in the way she did, she was talking to me, too. (Maybe I seek out the world I want, or the world was shown to me, and I accepted it as my own – at this point, who cares?) I trust everybody, love everybody and think you are beautiful and awesome. It was no insult.

Of course, as you can imagine, this ideal that I hold doesn’t always end happily. Sometimes, it ends in tears and heartbreak. And that is ok with me, it’s the cost of living this way, fully present and all the way in.

What I know is that I’m far more depressed at the way we’ve fallen into disrepair, chosen loneliness, increasingly willing to sacrifice the others to the god of self, the god of meeeee. This hurts me more than a friend’s lies, betrayal, ugliness. It’s much easier to change your mind than transform the groupthink of a mob, especially when we’ve bought the arrogant delusion that this is all the intellectual progress of a people.

Superman is embarrassingly naive and hopeful. Can there be anything more refreshing than that?? Than hope? Than a belief in the good of each other? Than forgiveness? Than respect? Than love?

At the end of the movie, he saves Metropolis and that world. Maybe he can save ours, too.

Sarah

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

The new Sarah McLachlan album, Better Broken, came out today. A very great friend gave her review first thing this morning, as “Nothing beats Fumbling Towards Ecstasy.” That’s about as brief and whip-smart as a review of this album can be, she’s absolutely right. Nothing does beat Fumbling Towards Ecstasy.

This album is fine, some parts are awesome, but she is a victim of her own brilliance. Maybe that’s fair. Without Fumbling, this album is solid, pleasant and comfortable. But we don’t live in a “without Fumbling” world. Would you have a loving, respectful, fulfilling relationship (that ends), if it meant that new partners can’t fill those shoes? Would you have a transcendent album that changed everybody’s perception of what an album could be, that completely transformed the landscape for female artists forever, if it meant that everything after paled in comparison? (This is the Counting Crows situation, too, speaking of “everything after.”)

I know it would feel disappointing, to you, to everyone, but I think I hope you say yes. Fumbling Towards Ecstasy has ruined me for Better Broken, but we all had our worlds shaken. We all deserve a respectful, fulfilling, loving relationship, at least once, to show us what’s truly possible. I think that would destroy the nonsensical settling that is so pervasive. Because here’s the thing, my questions were kind of disingenuous. New partners can fill those shoes, everything after doesn’t always pale in comparison. These “unicorns” prove to us that unicorns exists, and give us the courage and hope to not stop listening to albums, to not sadly lower the criteria to accept anything less.

Fumbling Towards Ecstasy happened, and it happened to us.

Sheen

September 17, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

The special new Netflix documentary is about Charlie Sheen. Now, I have always regarded Charlie Sheen as some sort of sideshow oddity, like an embarrassing example of the worst of celebrity culture. His is a life built only upon the religion of excess. Like the writer of Ecclesiastes, he devoted his life to tasting every single thing there was to taste, as much as a human could manage, then much, much more. I didn’t think he was a particularly talented actor, thought he built a name and career on his family name. (Yes, of course, I loved Platoon and Wall Street, everybody did/does, but figured they had little to do with him, and much more to do with the scripts and director. I’ll be open to the possibility that I am wrong.) We all saw the tiger blood and “winning” debacles, the wild drug abuse, and insatiable sexual appetite. Was there really any more to him than a tabloid caricature??

The best documentary films say, in all cases, yes, there is more. (This is one of those.)

And it made me think about our current cultural obsession with the opposite – that there is no more to anyone than one small sliver of the whole. We are all fighting all the time because we are no more than our political affiliation (or any other ideology), divided sharply along party lines. That man/woman, who is this, who has done that, is, has been, will always be, this.

There was a running back for the Baltimore Ravens several years ago (actually, it’s 11 years ago!!!) who was arrested for abusing his then fiancé (whom he would later marry). Maybe this is a poor example, as the brand from domestic violence might be one that should never fade. Should it? Never? But Charlie Sheen was also arrested for domestic violence. And it might be the perfect example because it is one of the most heinous offenses, one of the most difficult for me to forgive.

What does it matter if I can forgive, neither Ray Rice or Charlie Sheen asked me, and I’m quite certain they don’t care if I do or not. But it does matter, because Ray Rice isn’t the only abuser in the world. There’s probably at least one on every street all over the globe, in our schools, grocery stores, churches. Now what?

Are they monsters?

Over the last few days/weeks/years, I’ve heard many different types of people referred to as something less than human: serial killers, school shooters, politicians & presidents, CEOs, pedophiles with their own private trafficking islands, and on and on. Are they sub-human?

Charlie Sheen was a maniac with a massive illness hellbent on self-destruction. Is that an excuse, or a reason? It doesn’t change what he did, but it does expand the tiny slice of the identity pie. And maybe that’s the important thing. Maybe the Menendez brothers (Menendi) should face consequences for the rest of their lives, but what they endured as children sure does shift the perception of what they did. Maybe each time we learn more and more, each time our incomplete outline gains a new dimension, each time we ask questions like “should it?” or “never?” about a professional athlete, that produces a shift that – well, it doesn’t really change them, or what they did, but it does change us.

Then, when we sit across from a Trump republican or a Harris democrat and argue about immigration or government departments, we can quickly understand that how they see this issue is not even close to the entirety of who they actually are. Then, when we want to shut them down as unfeeling, ignorant, uninformed rage-monsters, we remember Charlie Sheen and, instead, maybe we could ask why, maybe we could discover who they are and, consequently, why they feel the way they do. Then, maybe we could stop fighting narrow-mindedness with narrow-mindedness and have a conversation, one with patience, kindness, and respect. Maybe this Charlie Sheen doc can give us the key to unlocking, and setting free, a shared humanity.

Or maybe it’s just a celebrity train wreck. I guess it’s whatever we want it to be.

Catfishing Again

September 8, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

There’s a documentary on Netflix called Unknown Number: The High School Catfish, about a 15 year-old girl who starts getting absolutely horrible, menacing texts from numbers she doesn’t recognize. No one else recognizes them, either, because they’re from a text app that seems to be designed for exactly this type of thing. Why do they exist? Why would I want a randomly generated phone number for text messages? I cannot think of even 1 time I thought, “I wish I had a different number to text ____.”

I guess it’s pretty much like the Ashley Madison website. These sites & apps are for what they’re for, with no pretense or apologies. Ashley Madison’s business model is infidelity, period. Text apps are for catfishing. I don’t need burner accounts or phones, and I don’t need a super secret special number because I don’t mind if you see that it is from me, Chad. Maybe you do. But if you do, maybe you can also not use it to send abusive texts to your children? (I recognize I just gave away the reveal in the film, but it was bound to happen. My mom spoiled it for me, too.)

Anyway. The doc wasn’t great. At least, that is to say, I didn’t really care for it. It was so provocative you couldn’t look away, like the junkyard fire I saw 2 days ago. But the best documentaries paint pictures and tell stories to ask questions we don’t necessarily want to ask. People are almost never monsters. We hear their stories and end up understanding, even if we don’t like them. We see the tiny, incremental steps it took to cross the lines they crossed. They become more than the caricatures we see in headlines and click bait, they’re complicated & nuanced. We see ourselves in them.

After enough exposure, the judgment begins to be siphoned out of our hearts. Slowly. But if they are human beings, like us, then what? If we can forgive them, give grace to others, allow them to fall and be redeemed, then maybe we can be forgiven, redeemed, too. Maybe we shouldn’t be defined by the worst things we’ve done. Maybe we shouldn’t define others by the worst things they’ve done.

That’s what I love about documentaries.

This one had a villain. She did the thing, barely took responsibility, continued to lie, pretend, cried, thought she had been punished too harshly, and at the end, we didn’t understand. They didn’t ask the questions that would’ve invited her into the introspection that might have given depth. We didn’t, couldn’t, see ourselves.

[I do not blame the filmmaker, Skye Borgman, who has made many films that are brilliant. She deserves all of the awards she’s won. This makes me wonder if she simply couldn’t impel this woman to walk through the door out of villainous caricature. Maybe she did ask all of the right questions, but the answers gave so little, all that was left was the shocking story itself.]

Scooby Doo and other cartoons (and cartoon’y movies) have good guys and bad guys, but it’s hardly ever that defined in real life. When it is, it’s jarring and uncomfortable. They are usually great characteristics for documentaries – jarring and uncomfortable – but for different reasons altogether. I was happy when it ended.

Then, next time I turned on the tv, I could get back to rewatching Fisk.

Going First (or The Angel’s Perfect Hips)

August 25, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

Fisk is the best tv show I’ve seen in quite some time. I recognize I am prone to hyperbole and being a little bit of a prisoner of the moment, but I’m not a fool. That just means it might not be THE best (maybe it’s Poker Face, or Reacher), but it’s high…

It’s an Australian comedy set in a legal office, and the closest comparison is actually probably Seinfeld. There are 4 characters, who we know, more and more, and love, more and more, each episode. Things happen (it’s not a “show about nothing”), but not too much. The ancillary characters are quirky and odd, but never get in the way of our big 4. Extraordinarily well written, and well acted, I just think it’s perfect. You should start watching it now.

The Perfect Couple was pretty great, too.

I like most things, as it turns out. It’s not that I can’t tell quality, I know if a show or song or movie or meal isn’t good, I just can find something to enjoy in most everything.

There’s a country guy whose name I can’t ever remember that sings about being “bougie like Applebee’s,” and there will be no mistaking his music for important, the kind of contribution that lasts longer than a few summers and is required to tell the wonderful story of music. This isn’t “All Along The Watchtower,” or Pet Sounds, but I love it anyway, mostly because of how the Angel’s perfect hips move when it comes across her Pandora feed.

So now, like Pavlov’s dog, I don’t need her perfect hips for it to elicit a positive response.

I watch YouTubers with my sons, sometimes even the pointless ones who post videos of themselves stringing curse words together while playing video games, and I can almost like them. I keep watching them with them because they like them. I don’t have to know why, I just have to care. Sometimes I giggle along.

If the site were to ask me what I like about me, this characteristic would be an answer. I’m like a golden retriever, curious and excitable. My default position is that I like you a lot, and I trust you. Then, you would have to work your way out of that space – and it happens sometimes, but not very often. Instead, I find people to be generally trustworthy and awesome, and movies and songs are mostly pretty good. Even if they aren’t, somebody poured themselves into their creation, and that counts for everything.

[I think the most endearing thing about Charlie Cale in Poker Face is that she so obviously likes the freaks and weirdos and criminals that she meets. This is why she always gets involved.]

I want to be a golden retriever. I want to run to you with reckless abandon, and not wait for you to come to me and prove yourself. I’m really tired of a world of cynicism, division, condescension, and rage.

I want us to see & hear each other, to love each other, and for this to happen, somebody has to go first.

Top Ten

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

As you might have guessed, I have been making lists of “Top ___” lists as long as I can remember. Top 5/10/25/100 albums/songs, soundtracks, top 10 moments in professional wrestling history, top 3 MLB pitchers/shortstops, top 5 pizza shops, etc. You get the idea. This is not a new idea to me.

A very good friend once had a husband who made a list of his Top 500 songs. It was mostly awesome, (he turned out to be not awesome at all), but when you get past the first few, it gets pretty muddy and begins to be governed by little more than which one you listened to most recently. It’s obvious “There Is A Light That Never Goes Out” is #1, but is “Rebel Yell” or “Possession” 14 or 15? I’d say “Heartbreaker” by Pat Benatar is somewhere in the area of 153, and so is “Overkill,” by Men At Work – who is to say which is 153 or 154 or even 171? AND are we including all Morrissey/Smiths songs? Because if we are, then the kind of list we’re making starts at, roughly, 40, with the exception of “I Can’t Help Myself” by Gene, which is either 1 (if Morrissey is omitted), 2 (if we’re only including “…Light That Never Goes Out”) or 6 (if everything is in play).

My Top 5 songs, incidentally, are 1. “There Is A Light That Never Goes Out,” The Smiths. 2. “I Can’t Help Myself,” Gene. 3. “Good Enough,” Sarah McLachlan. 4. “Hey Jealousy,” Gin Blossoms. 5. “Just Like Heaven,” The Cure. The 5 don’t change, but when “Just Like Heaven” is on, it’s #3.

Movies are an interesting proposition, though, as far as rules. Do you count entire series/trilogies as 1 or each individually? Will there be all 3 Lord Of The Rings films, or do you call it Lord of The Rings and leave it at that? What I’ll do is give my favorite of the series/trilogy and not include any others. And are there any genre limitations? Nope. Documentaries alongside fiction? That’s right. Here we go (maybe I’ll expand, if I feel it’s necessary). And we’ll decide at the end if this is the actual order…

Fight Club. Pulp Fiction. Kill Bill, vol 2 (and ONLY vol 2 – if I were to make a list of the movies I hated the most, vol. 1 would be high on that list). Point Break. Star Wars, ep. 8: The Last Jedi. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Captain America 2: The Winter Soldier (this will be the only entry from the MCU, although it probably could have been the first Avengers, Endgame, or Thor:Ragnarok. Any of those would be fine, too). Into The Spiderverse. LOTR: Return Of The King. The Dark Knight.

Now, I’m thinking about movies I loved that might have been high at different points in my life. I loved Dogma and Vanilla Sky. (Yes, I recognize Vanilla Sky is not the greatest, but for about 15 minutes in 2001, I thought it was just the cat’s pajamas.) Fraternity Vacation was exactly the kind of movie to really matter to a 13 year old. The Matrix, Adaptation, We Bought A Zoo, 12 Monkeys, and Knives Out all could’ve maybe made the list on a different day (with many others). But looking at the list – which is not in order, except Fight Club, that is #1 – maybe they couldn’t have. Those 10 are just about right.

I wonder what that says about me. Do we become the people we are because of the art we choose, or do we choose that particular art because we are those kinds of people? The Angel can’t get through 5 minutes of Pulp Fiction. Of course, she’s wrong, but why? What happened to make our interests so varied? Or did nothing happen, are we just pieced & wired together differently? Who knows? And honestly, who really cares?

When I took the Angel out on our first date, the first thing I did was look at her cd collection. It was cool and quirky, and it made me like her even more. As it turned out, the collection was her roommate’s. The Angel had about 15 cds, including Mariah Carey, Celine Dion, John Secada, and Backstreet Boys; it was like a traffic accident. Why would anyone possibly own these particular albums? After 25 years together, I still can’t answer that question, but what I did learn is that what we like isn’t nearly as important as I thought. Maybe it isn’t important at all. She finds no joy in Sarah M or The Cure, either. And I think she’s just the greatest, #1 in my list of favorite people.

I still make the lists, they still matter to me, I still care…I guess I just don’t need you to care anymore.

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?

Get Off My Lawn

August 3, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

This post is being written under protest, with great hesitation. You see, I’m going to complain about the younger generation. I’m going to tell you what’s wrong with the “kids today,” and probably wax nostalgic on how it was ”back in my day.” I won’t really like it, and it’ll be very uncomfortable, but I’m going to do it because I hated the new Netflix Train Wreck: Storm Area 51 documentary that much.

As you know, I love the Train Wreck series. The filmmakers dive deeply into these strange, sometimes sad, sometimes hilarious, events that illustrate the insanity of you and me. This is great, for so many reasons, one of which being that we can see our penchant for ambition that is selfish, uncivil and often criminal. We are mostly all like this, any argument is simple arrogance, and it gives us a window into the human condition if we are allowed to descend into a Lord of the Flies-like environment. They are warning signs along our society’s roads.

Now. This last one, Storm Area 51, felt different. A vape shop kiosk employee called “shitposting” (or something equally mindless and depressing) created a social media event called Storm Area 51, where a group of people would, well, storm Area 51, because “they can’t possibly stop us all.” Why? Aliens, I guess. (As if any of us have any doubts and need more proof.) Area 51 is a highly guarded military base. The vape shop guy, called Matty, thought it was funny, but didn’t account for the basic desire of influencers to desperately solicit clicks. (How “shitposting” can not account for the neediness of social media is beyond understanding and the textbook example of a lack of self-awareness.) Many millions of people said they’re going, driving citizens of nearby towns, law enforcement, and the military, into a state of terror. As it turns out, almost nobody showed up, no one caused any problems, and it cost everyone many more millions of dollars.

Now.

The younger generation has an alarming lack of spacial awareness that comes from 2 things: they spend most of their time inside, on devices, populated by 2-dimensional screen names instead of human beings. And a refusal to acknowledge that our actions have consequences in real life. You see, 2-dimensional screen names don’t have mortgages, children to care for, dreams, feelings, or needs of their own. We are the stars of our own story, as a matter of fact, like the Truman Show, we are the only living boys and girls in this construct.

So, when the woman who owns sinks everything she owns (and much more) into a partnership with an absolutely clueless Matty (with a sociopathic inability to empathize with anyone) to prepare for the millions of YouTubers, only to be shafted by the same Matty in the end, he has no idea what he has wrought. He only sees his own tiny circle of one, and he’s deathly afraid that he will have to take a shred of responsibility (gasp!) for his actions.

Whatever. It’s my truth, my reality, my way, and if you don’t like it, Boomer/Karen/etc, I can’t possibly begin to care. I have my next videos to plan & promote.

I think all of the kids involved were genuinely surprised that their actions weren’t just fun, and that a massive cost was attached to an irresponsible prank. That’s not awesome.

I have a friend who is super sweet in person, and as mean online and in texts as you have ever experienced. He’d never say the things he writes. And when the actual human beings on the other end of the screen get their feelings hurt and block him, he can’t understand why, either. What do you mean? There aren’t consequences, everything is a vacuum. You’re just too old to understand.

Maybe that’s true, but I am concerned for my lawn when the new caretakers don’t understand that if they dump weed-killer, it can kill more than weeds.

I think the new age is exciting and wonderful, we are connected in ways that are astounding. I like YouTubers and want them to continue. There is so much fantastic content out in the cyberverse, we could never get to the bottom of the well. They’re funny. Memes are funny and often quite smart. I see things I would never otherwise see. This is an amazing time to be alive.

But, like everything, there is a cost. We just need to know & understand what it is, before we decide if we’ll pay.

(There, thankfully, it’s over. I’ll try not to write such a negative post again. Rainbows and puppy dogs from here on out!!)

Hulk Hogan Instead Of Terry Bollea

July 29, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

Theo Huxtable, Hulk Hogan, and Ozzy Osbourne died in the last several days, and so did big parts of my childhood.

I loved the Cosby Show. I probably would now, too, if Bill Cosby, paragon of (what turned out to be) hypocritical virtue, wasn’t so problematic. Malcolm Jamal Warner was the best in a perfect cast of bests. I haven’t thought of him in years, but I still might miss him. I wish his family peace. But I think I miss the show, and my pretend idea of what the show was, what the show represented, even more.

I didn’t much care for Ozzy’s music. Maybe that’s a terrible thing to say, maybe I should think Black Sabbath “changed my life,” like I’m supposed to think about wildly overrated Radiohead. Whatever. Who has time for what we “should like?” “Barbie Girl” sounds & feels better than anything Radiohead created after The Bends.

However, Ozzy is a very important footnote in my life. In my middle school hell years, I thought about suicide often, and wrote about it in some awfully dark poetry. My mom found these poems, and, appropriately frightened, confiscated my cassette tapes. She had, apparently, bought into the common belief of the moment that heavy metal bands were killing our children. I raged against her for taking my Ratt, Quiet Riot, and Ozzy tapes. She was THE WORST. She said she threw them in the garbage, and was willing to suffer my wrath forever. But my thoughts about suicide faded into a depressed rhythm, never too real after 8th grade. I discovered that it wasn’t always going to be that/this dark. As it turns out, she didn’t throw them away, and I got them back eventually. I was happy to listen to Ratt and QR again, but not really Ozzy. I don’t think he caused my depression, it was just probably timing. However, what my mom did remains one of the very finest things anyone has ever done for me. It means something very significant that you would be loved enough that someone will go to any lengths to hear/listen/help you, even to risk your hatred of them. She put my life before her comfort, our relationship, or anything else. She gets an A+ for that. And every time I think of Ozzy, I feel really, really important and loved.

Now. Hulk Hogan. I don’t know how to express to you just how much of my attention and life went to professional wrestling, and Hulk Hogan. And to tell you the truth, for some reason, I don’t want to try.

What I notice right now is that I refer to these 3 by their character names, Hulk Hogan instead of Terry Bollea. That’s telling. They weren’t people, they were someone’s invention, and they are that to me. I don’t know Malcolm Jamal Warner, I only know Theo Huxtable. I know how these fictional characters made me feel, or what they represent. And what they represent is other places and people, real places and people. My mom, sister, girlfriends, and my best friend. The ones who loved me, who I loved, who cared for me, the ones with whom I shared the most valuable moments of my life. I guess that’s why I love art – and artists – so much, for their ability to reach into our real lives through connected imaginations and find commonalities, emotions, events, giving hope that where we are is awesome, but where we’re going can be even better. They asked us to believe in them, in each other, and ourselves.

And I still believe.

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.

Love With A Capital L

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

Tag: culture