2025-07-29T18:25:38+00:00

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.

Train Wrecks

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

Netflix has a series called Trainwreck, where it details certain cultural, um, train wrecks. The first one I remember seeing was Woodstock ‘99. It was fascinating, a nearly perfect documentary, and must have been well received, as it became a series. Woodstock ‘99 was a chimaera of greed, poor planning, ego – I could continue, but I guess it was just a chimaera of the lowest human experience. It was an account of our tendency to sink to Lord of the Flies (mis)behavior, if only given the opportunity.

I guess all of these Train Wrecks follow that same formula.

The Cult of American Apparel and the unfortunately named Poop Cruise are the newest additions.

Poop Cruise is exactly what it sounds like. A cruise ship set sail, with as many warnings as passengers, and once at sea, the electrical system burned up and left the floating skyscraper dead in the water. Apparently, the toilets on a cruise ship are somehow tied into the electricity, so when the engines & lights went out, so did the toilets. After a day or 2, the floors were covered in raw sewage. The doc is an hour long account of manufactured suffering. Carnival escaped catastrophic financial punishment by absolving itself from anything at all in the contract everyone signed. Some kind of utterly shocking “we are not responsible for safe passage, clean, working facilities or the food, in any way” rider that either no one read or believed.

American Apparel was a clothing company that was allegedly enormous in the mid-2000’s. I say ‘allegedly’ because I had no idea it existed. This is unusual, as I make it my business to know what’s going on in the popular culture. The ads were soft-core porn, the clothes were unremarkable, and the CEO Dov Charney is a psychopathic monster who assaulted (emotionally, verbally, sexually) everyone who happened to cross his path. He’s not a nice person, was fired after a mountain of horrific lawsuits piled up against him, and today works for Kanye West. That sounds about right.

Money is the American god, and business is our religion. If it pays, we’re in. We’ll excuse any, and all, means to those ends. Travis Scott’s AstroWorld disaster is the subject of another Train Wreck. People died at this concert, with almost no accountability. Apparently, much like the famous Spiderman meme where several Spider-men are pointing at each other, no one was in charge, no one was to blame. Safety was no one’s job. There wasn’t an adult in the room. And when it came time to get some answers, the only answer was cash, and as it turns out, that’s good enough for us. Oh well, it’s just human lives.

The shows are pretty depressing, to be honest. Mirrors often are. Is this really who we are? I have to believe we are not, even in the face of conflicting evidence, stories replayed on a loop, just with a different company logo and new shell game.

If learning about our history is the way to assure we don’t repeat it (and that’s what we’re always told, right? Those who don’t learn about history are doomed to repeat it, right? Maybe it’s true, I’ll take your word for it), then these Train Wrecks are public services. I’m imagining conference rooms full of CEO’s watching them, weeping and tearing their clothes, immediately overhauling their policy manuals, creating ethical, humane paragons of virtue. Probably, the reason we haven’t noticed this revolution is because it takes a while for the effects to reach the consumer. It should be any moment, now…

Stats and Possibilities

June 23, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

The site is asking me how I practice self-care, and then I’ll tell you what’s on my mind today.

When we were on vacation, the biggest drawback of the Airbnb as opposed to the hotel, were the mornings. In a hotel, I’d silently pick up my things and leave the room, go down to the lobby, and spend the next hour or 3 reading, writing, whatever. At home, I begin most mornings at the gym. If I don’t go, I eat breakfast and then read, write, whatever. I didn’t realize just how important this daily routine is. So, that’s it, probably. The most important self-care practice I have is the way I enter each day. It’s not always the same, but it allows me to intentionally connect to my, body, mind, my life.

Now, here’s my question…Who are you?

The site also emails me, from time to time, about the stats of this blog. Is anyone reading what I write? Is any post more engaging than others? If anyone is actually reading, who is it? Where are they (you) from?

While fairly plugged in, I choose to not participate in much of the social mediasphere. I think the stats (and communicating them to me) are designed to help me tailor posts for the greatest possibility of engagement. For instance, if a post on cereal gets more likes than one on oatmeal, I would theoretically write more about cereal. Probably, a wild-eyed political rant would stomp them both, in terms of clicks. The problem is that I don’t care about that, not even a little bit. It seems disingenuous and manipulative. It seems like a reader would want to read the people who write about the things they want to, that turn them on, the things that touch their hearts, instead of the things someone thinks they’d like. Maybe that’s true. Maybe it’s not, though, now that I think about it.

I read articles on Morrissey, the MCU, Dallas Cowboys, and other topics I search for. I rarely search for writers, certainly not on the internet.

Maybe I should care. Maybe more cereal posts is quality marketing. Do I care about marketing myself? Should I care about marketing? Isn’t everything marketing???

All of this stat conversation brings me to what I really do care about.: Who are you? How did you get here? I see some of the same names ‘liking’ the posts, and I’d love to know who you are and hear your stories. How do we do that? Is it as simple of Google-ing the names and cyber-stalking? If I see the names, does that mean you have blogs, too? Then, I should read those, right?

The internet is such a beautiful tool for connection, not just food pictures, disinformation, and porn. It can bring all of us, with all of our different experiences, backgrounds, demographics, together. My question is, how do we do that?

I got out of my car the other day, and there was this little boy (about 3ish years old) across the street. He yells over to me, “What are you doing?” Not aggressive or judgy, just curious. “I’m just home from the gym.” “Why?” “Well, I like to go to the gym.” “Why?” “It helps me move my body and relax a little. What are you doing?” “Just eating this cookie.” “Good cookie?” “Yep. See you, then.”

And I thought, maybe that’s what’s missing. Maybe I just don’t ask enough people what they’re doing. Everybody reads on the beach, and in 4 days, I didn’t ask 1 person what they were reading. In my last post, I thought about a podcast/Facebook live with guests. Maybe that’s what it would look like, just me and you, and we could begin with, “what are you doing?”

It feels a little like, the more we are connected online, the further we are apart. I guess it’s up to us to change that, isn’t it?

Every New Beginning Comes From Some Other Beginning’s End

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

I’ve coached my last game, spent my last day in the high school weight room. My youngest son has graduated, and will be leaving for college in August. My oldest son has a great job. Better yet, they are 2 of the best human beings I’ve ever met. The Angel is The Angel (and yes, it’s still very obvious I’ve married well out of my league, but that’s her problem, not mine – I say that a lot, and I really, really like to say it). The church is on solid footing, or at least as solid of footing as a ministry can be. God can call any of us in a different direction at any time. It’s best not to be too comfortable with these sorts of things. I could lose some weight, but probably many of us could/would say that. Maybe I will. Maybe not.

But the question that keeps rearing it’s bright-eyed, exciting, excited head is one I love: Now what?

I referred, in my last post, to a hope for the time & space on vacation to bring some clarity, some light in a dark hallway for the next steps. It didn’t, exactly, which is both disappointing and awesome.

So, here’s what I’m thinking…

I am a rescued, redeemed child of God, husband, dad, brother, friend, pastor, possibly exceptional dancer, lover of everything, including this life I have been given, you and pop songs. My ministry is to love, and to tell everybody how much they are loved, what the Gospel is, and why that matters so much. That is who I am.

Now, what will I do, in service of that ministry/life?

I am always working on the sermons for Sunday mornings, and will continue my commitment to this call to pastor our beautiful community – an increased imagination will probably lead to more Saturday evening events, and different risks, at the Bridge. There will be a focus on a marriage curriculum. I do some marriage counseling (pre- and post- marital) and will make myself available for more and more of that, in pointed, individual & group, class-ish contexts. There is a new book in the works, which will be called, We Have a Weight Problem, which is not actually about body weight. (Well, it’s a little bit about body weight. It’s more about the value we give to things in our lives and how we’d go about changing those lives.) It’s a good title, right?

I post in 2 places every week (the Bridge Faith Community, and Love With A Capital L), and may increase that frequency. I should probably do some interesting things to get those posts in front of more eyes.

[I often treat my work as if it is a secret. I guess it’s residual ash from from setting fire to my imposter syndrome. As if I think you might not want to see or read it, and if you did, you might not like it. That’s silly. Of course it’s true!! You might not like it, but that’s ok. I don’t like all Morrissey songs, and I’m not the greatest singer of all time. I’m not for everyone, you might actually hate my work, but you might not, too. In fact, it might be cool, it might give you a new perspective, you might think it’s awesome. I’m going to stop treating these things as if they’re a fancy club, where you have to know the password to get in. I’m going to invite you to the Bridge.]

There’s a new series that will show up somewhere called “What I’ve Learned,” I just don’t know where. Maybe here. I might begin a podcast-type thing, like the old Facebook minis (10 minute shorts), but with other people and their ideas and viewpoints. I’ll follow up on the Bull Elephants (if you know what that means, you know, if not, I’ll explain it another time). I’ll make a new Instagram Bridge page, where I’ll invite you to the Bridge, and keep you posted on any-/everything else. I’ll be at our mid-week prayer group, and increase the opportunities for connection with the people I know, and the people I meet. These connections will be to counsel or coach, to provide space to ask questions and discover the answers, to study the Bible, to discern spiritual gifts, or to build & strengthen the bonds of friendship.

I don’t think the Church is a place people come to, I think the Church is a group of people that go from a certain geographical, local home. Our ministries are in places you are, at town squares, malls, grocery stores and fields. We cannot just walk around trying to build attendance in our local churches, as altars to ourselves. Instead, we’re called to GO. Much of the next steps, as far as I can see today, are loosely tied to where I/we already are (but maybe that’s bound to be the case) .

I am not discouraged at this. (I once would have been, and would have thrown this all away immediately.) What this means now is that I show up and am faithful with what is here in my ever-growing circles. Maybe there will be time for all of this, maybe just for one or 2. All I can be is fully present in where I am, what I am doing. But I am also paying attention to all the burning bushes, looking for the ones that aren’t consumed, because it’s often there that God gives our specific GO.

So, what now? Well, I’ll love who & what is in my path – Jesus, you, me, everybody, this lovely creation – in the ways I can, and if (and when) my path changes, or expands, I’ll love there, too. And i’ll be really, really grateful for all of it.

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.

Graduation Is Not Like Andor

June 2, 2025June 2, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

My youngest son’s high school graduation happened last Friday, and as it turned out, after much reflection, it was not like Andor at all.

This is what I wrote in last week’s post: 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?

Andor was excellent, as good as anyone had any right to expect, as good as Star Wars can be, as good as any work of science fiction has ever been. The characters are awesome, well-written and complex, the story is layered, full of suspense, twists and turns. Maybe that’s like graduation. The students are complex and awesome. The story of their childhood & adolescence has been layered, full of suspense, ups, downs, surprises, heartbreak, elation, disappointment.

What I maybe didn’t like about Andor is pretty common in most modern storytelling. There aren’t exactly good guys & bad guys, just shades of gray. Sauron was baaaaad. Frodo, Aragorn, Gandalf were good. Superman was good, Lex Luther was bad. Tony Stark is good, most of the time, kind of, but flawed and quite capable of bad.

There’s a scene in Andor, where Cassian Andor is rescuing Mon Mothma from the senate floor, and he shoots & kills several people. He does the same in Rogue One – to a person on the same side of the rebellion!!!

So, maybe I don’t like that, but I recognize that it is a far more accurate picture of war and human beings. No one is all good, all the time, no one is all bad, all the time. The white hats aren’t as pure as we’d like to believe, just as the villains aren’t as irredeemable as lazy intellectual convenience might suggest. The only real difference between sides in war is where you stand. These new creators aren’t as concerned with my desire (sometimes) for easy delineation. They write for realism, which sounds ridiculous to say in a discussion of a space opera. And sometimes I like that, too.

I’m just like everyone else, complex and often inconsistent. Maybe this stood out because, as far as I can tell, the show was primarily about this blurriness between the heroes and villains. Luther Rael was a terrific character, but can not be considered a positive, ethical role model, under any definition, yet was the slimy uncle of the beginnings of the rebellion. It wasn’t just a part of the story, it was the story.

The graduates, including my son, are becoming adults, and I have been witness to the great beauty and the sickening lows of humanity. In that way, they’re just like Andor. From where I stand, my boy is the hero, but I’m not so naive to think that he hasn’t been callous and cutting along the way. Maybe he’s said things he’s not proud of, done things he’d change if given the opportunity.

But what’s not like Andor is that this duality is NOT the story. The story is one of transcending that moral confusion to bring real positive change in the world around them. It is a detail that adds to the narrative but is not the narrative. The characters in Andor accept the fact that their methods are the same as their enemy’s methods, with no discernible desire for anything else. They do what they have to do, the ends justify the means.

And maybe they do. Maybe the Death Star has to be destroyed, and however we do it, whatever compromise we make, is worth it.

I happen to have been lucky enough to know these kids who walked across the stage on Friday, and I still see/feel the wide-eyed, wild-eyed hope of youth. They have not had their imaginations beaten out of them by life, just yet. They seem to know the Death Star needs to be destroyed, but have not acquiesced to the notion that we have to become our enemy to defeat it. They’re imperfect, and they are aware of the imperfection, but they’re beautiful in those cracks and flaws.

I believe them, I admire their souls, I want them to win. I think my son is Luke Skywalker – but not the Luke Skywalker caricature of the original trilogy that all fanboys defend, by any means necessary. He’s more like the Luke Skywalker of The Last Jedi. My boy is authentic and funny, wonderful and messy. He can fail, but will ultimately show up, stand up, and fight for you & me until he has nothing left. He’s capable of everything, he’s all that a Jedi Knight should be. Of course, he’s not perfect, but he’s certainly one of the good guys, and in his (and his classmates) hands, the universe will be alright in the end.

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: imagination