I met with two youth ministers today. One is a seasoned veteran who thinks that he might be getting out of the game soon, the other is brand new and as wide-eyed as anyone I’ve ever met. I'm really excited about this new guy. There is ample opportunity for us to partner together, and I think it is going to be a fun paring. It has been a tremendous blessing to be able to mentor youth guys over the years. I must get an E-mail a week asking me what it is we do at BLH, and it’s pretty fun to be able share all the fun stuff we got going on.
Personally, I am so pumped for this fall/winter. We have some AMAZING things coming up, and I just am so excited to get rollin’. This excitement is truly from the Lord. I was pretty stale over the summer… I just couldn’t get pumped about anything… everything was just … eh… But God is faithful and has really given me a renewed zest for kids and a zeal for building relationships. Thank you Lord!!
Anyway, meeting with theses two guys makes me realize how privileged I am to do what I do. But anytime I give advice, I can’t help but think about the MANY mistakes I’ve made over the years.
SO, here is an overview of the Top Five Youth Guy Mistakes that I made in my first five years of ministry.
5- Too close to too few kids/families
Quite honestly I keenly focused on a handful of kids and really catered to their likes, needs, and desires. That’s not all that bad, but I think in the early going this lead to the exclusion of other kids. Its hard to really explain, and maybe it’s the way you have to start, but my focus, at least I hope, is much wider now. I make a concerted effort to be equal-opportunity… and sometimes the kids that I have the best relationship with are left out so that new folks might join in…
4- Refused to flip the script
In the beginning I had a plan and ain’t no one gonna make me change it. So stubborn… so stupid. Some of the best moments I’ve had in ministry have been when we’ve just sat around and talked about whatever was on people’s minds. No curriculum, no video, no games… just kids sharing and growing together.
3- Made it “me” not “our”
This is something I’m still struggling with. I NEED volunteers. We really need to start small groups… but it is so daunting I just don’t know where to start. The sad reality is that most of our people have no idea what “youth group” is because they never had one growing up. So to get adult volunteers to be a part of OUR “youth group” is no easier than asking them to join a club for astrophysicists. They are both foreign concepts and we fear the unknown… It needs to be our ministry, not mine… Lord help us.
2- Went for the choir, not for the tonedeaf
This kind of coincides with #5, but its easy to build a ministry of choir members- of people who love their Lord and love being with other teenagers and love to have fun, etc… It’s also easy for me as a youth minster to reach out to those kind of kids. But the rough and tumble fringe kids… they are a tough nut to crack, and for the most part I have avoided them. This also goes with #3, if there were more people involved, the easier it would be to reach out to all kinds of folks… Certainly something to pray about…
1- Made it about programs, not about relationships
Early on, I thought it was necessary to program the heck out of everything. We needed workbooks and logos and postcards and T-shirts… all those things are great, but the program doesn’t make the ministry. Lately I’ve found immense joy in sitting down with kids and hearing about their day. I’m loving the relationship. In those conversations we can talk about relationships with others- good or bad, and parents- good or bad, and most importantly, their relationship with their Savior Jesus. It is such a blessing. Programs come and go, they get dated or fall flat; but good conversation over cheap appetizers focusing on the redemptive work of Jesus… that just never grows old.
So those are just some lessons learned. I have no idea how long I’ll be in the youth game, but I do know that as long as I am a youth minister the mistakes will keep on coming, but thankfully so will the valuable insight that only messing up can give. Thank you Lord for letting me fall down so You can pick me up.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
shining brightly!
Well everything is in place... the light at the end of the educational tunnel is radiating from December. I'm actually going to be a student of 3 colleges starting in October... but come December 16 all my coursework will be completed!! These are good things. After that only my senior project remains... nice. It's been a tremendous summer, but the machine begins again Wednesday. Here goes nuttin'!
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
dream, dream, dream
I've been thinking of a good song to throw on here. I think I've had some pretty sweet tunes thus far, and for a while I was going one per week. I haven't had the chance to hear much new stuff lately since I've been oot and aboot all summer... so I guess I gotta go someting classic.
The Everly Brothers makes me think of my dad. I don't know what it was, he must have had a tape... or maybe it was a .45 or something, but I can remember listening to the Everly Brothers alot as a kid. I only remember Dream and Wake Up Little Suzie. They were short, catchy tunes that I really enjoyed. I think I have such an affinity to harmonies because of these kind of muscians that I listened to as a 'lil tyke... They just don't make 'em like this anymore.
So, (in Casey Kasem's voice) this long distance dedication goes out to a special papa in Illinois...
The Everly Brothers makes me think of my dad. I don't know what it was, he must have had a tape... or maybe it was a .45 or something, but I can remember listening to the Everly Brothers alot as a kid. I only remember Dream and Wake Up Little Suzie. They were short, catchy tunes that I really enjoyed. I think I have such an affinity to harmonies because of these kind of muscians that I listened to as a 'lil tyke... They just don't make 'em like this anymore.
So, (in Casey Kasem's voice) this long distance dedication goes out to a special papa in Illinois...
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
bla(h)g
So this challenge is 3/4 of the way completed and I'm in a bit of a drought again. I have a couple of ideas but they are stuck in my head, if that makes any sense. They're raw ideas and nothing more... PLUS I've been reading a lot of blogs lately and some are just annoying and boring... then I realize that the stuff that I find boring to read is the stuff that I've been writing... conundrum. I’m hoping that once the tri-weekly commute begins again I’ll have more time to process and refine in my noggin so it translates into interesting, thought-provoking thoughts. Here’s hoping.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
keep your change
I'm not much concerned w/ politics lately... I've taken the stance that all politicians are the same- with very few exceptions- and "change" really isn't possible... maybe one day that would be and interesting post: My Political Beliefs. snoooze.
Anyway I am no longer a registered Republican- I still vote republican and always will, but ideologically, I suppose I'm a libertarian, if anything. I consider voting for some of these no-name idealists as a wasted vote, so I vote for the lesser of the two evils. This, without exception, has been the man on the right.
Regardless, this video is filled with haunting truths and makes me really glad God is in control and not the talking-heads in D.C.
As I said, I have voted GOP up and down in every election, but I really hoped Obama would come through with at least 1 of his promises... His election night speech was truly inspiring, even to me who literally disagrees with everything he stands for... but his words have proven to be little more than lip-service. typical.
November will be very interesting...
Anyway I am no longer a registered Republican- I still vote republican and always will, but ideologically, I suppose I'm a libertarian, if anything. I consider voting for some of these no-name idealists as a wasted vote, so I vote for the lesser of the two evils. This, without exception, has been the man on the right.
Regardless, this video is filled with haunting truths and makes me really glad God is in control and not the talking-heads in D.C.
As I said, I have voted GOP up and down in every election, but I really hoped Obama would come through with at least 1 of his promises... His election night speech was truly inspiring, even to me who literally disagrees with everything he stands for... but his words have proven to be little more than lip-service. typical.
November will be very interesting...
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Friday, August 13, 2010
WSJ and Christianity
This is a very interesting article from the WSJ (found here). The best paragraph:
The Perils of 'Wannabe Cool' Christianity
By BRETT MCCRACKEN
'How can we stop the oil gusher?" may have been the question of the summer for most Americans. Yet for many evangelical pastors and leaders, the leaking well is nothing compared to the threat posed by an ongoing gusher of a different sort: Young people pouring out of their churches, never to return.
As a 27-year-old evangelical myself, I understand the concern. My peers, many of whom grew up in the church, are losing interest in the Christian establishment.
Recent statistics have shown an increasing exodus of young people from churches, especially after they leave home and live on their own. In a 2007 study, Lifeway Research determined that 70% of young Protestant adults between 18-22 stop attending church regularly.
Statistics like these have created something of a mania in recent years, as baby-boomer evangelical leaders frantically assess what they have done wrong (why didn't megachurches work to attract youth in the long term?) and scramble to figure out a plan to keep young members engaged in the life of the church.
Increasingly, the "plan" has taken the form of a total image overhaul, where efforts are made to rebrand Christianity as hip, countercultural, relevant. As a result, in the early 2000s, we got something called "the emerging church"—a sort of postmodern stab at an evangelical reform movement. Perhaps because it was too "let's rethink everything" radical, it fizzled quickly. But the impulse behind it—to rehabilitate Christianity's image and make it "cool"—remains.
There are various ways that churches attempt to be cool. For some, it means trying to seem more culturally savvy. The pastor quotes Stephen Colbert or references Lady Gaga during his sermon, or a church sponsors a screening of the R-rated "No Country For Old Men." For others, the emphasis is on looking cool, perhaps by giving the pastor a metrosexual makeover, with skinny jeans and an $80 haircut, or by insisting on trendy eco-friendly paper and helvetica-only fonts on all printed materials. Then there is the option of holding a worship service in a bar or nightclub (as is the case for L.A.'s Mosaic church, whose downtown location meets at a nightspot called Club Mayan).
"Wannabe cool" Christianity also manifests itself as an obsession with being on the technological cutting edge. Churches like Central Christian in Las Vegas and Liquid Church in New Brunswick, N.J., for example, have online church services where people can have a worship experience at an "iCampus." Many other churches now encourage texting, Twitter and iPhone interaction with the pastor during their services.
But one of the most popular—and arguably most unseemly—methods of making Christianity hip is to make it shocking. What better way to appeal to younger generations than to push the envelope and go where no fundamentalist has gone before?
Sex is a popular shock tactic. Evangelical-authored books like "Sex God" (by Rob Bell) and "Real Sex" (by Lauren Winner) are par for the course these days. At the same time, many churches are finding creative ways to use sex-themed marketing gimmicks to lure people into church.
Oak Leaf Church in Cartersville, Georgia, created a website called yourgreatsexlife.com to pique the interest of young seekers. Flamingo Road Church in Florida created an online, anonymous confessional (IveScrewedUp.com), and had a web series called MyNakedPastor.com, which featured a 24/7 webcam showing five weeks in the life of the pastor, Troy Gramling. Then there is Mark Driscoll at Seattle's Mars Hill Church—who delivers sermons with titles like "Biblical Oral Sex" and "Pleasuring Your Spouse," and is probably the first and only pastor I have ever heard say the word "vulva" during a sermon.
But are these gimmicks really going to bring young people back to church? Is this what people really come to church for? Maybe sex sermons and indie- rock worship music do help in getting people in the door, and maybe even in winning new converts. But what sort of Christianity are they being converted to?
In his book, "The Courage to Be Protestant," David Wells writes:"The born-again, marketing church has calculated that unless it makes deep, serious cultural adaptations, it will go out of business, especially with the younger generations. What it has not considered carefully enough is that it may well be putting itself out of business with God.
"And the further irony," he adds, "is that the younger generations who are less impressed by whiz-bang technology, who often see through what is slick and glitzy, and who have been on the receiving end of enough marketing to nauseate them, are as likely to walk away from these oh-so-relevant churches as to walk into them."
If the evangelical Christian leadership thinks that "cool Christianity" is a sustainable path forward, they are severely mistaken. As a twentysomething, I can say with confidence that when it comes to church, we don't want cool as much as we want real.
If we are interested in Christianity in any sort of serious way, it is not because it's easy or trendy or popular. It's because Jesus himself is appealing, and what he says rings true. It's because the world we inhabit is utterly phony, ephemeral, narcissistic, image-obsessed and sex-drenched—and we want an alternative. It's not because we want more of the same.
Mr. McCracken's book, "Hipster Christianity: Where Church and Cool Collide" (Baker Books) was published this month.
"If we are interested in Christianity in any sort of serious way, it is not because it's easy or trendy or popular. It's because Jesus himself is appealing, and what he says rings true. It's because the world we inhabit is utterly phony, ephemeral, narcissistic, image-obsessed and sex-drenched—and we want an alternative. It's not because we want more of the same. "Maybe, if you're lucky I'll put together some thoughts on this here topic... OR, better yet, what are YOUR thoughts...
The Perils of 'Wannabe Cool' Christianity
By BRETT MCCRACKEN
'How can we stop the oil gusher?" may have been the question of the summer for most Americans. Yet for many evangelical pastors and leaders, the leaking well is nothing compared to the threat posed by an ongoing gusher of a different sort: Young people pouring out of their churches, never to return.
As a 27-year-old evangelical myself, I understand the concern. My peers, many of whom grew up in the church, are losing interest in the Christian establishment.
Recent statistics have shown an increasing exodus of young people from churches, especially after they leave home and live on their own. In a 2007 study, Lifeway Research determined that 70% of young Protestant adults between 18-22 stop attending church regularly.
Statistics like these have created something of a mania in recent years, as baby-boomer evangelical leaders frantically assess what they have done wrong (why didn't megachurches work to attract youth in the long term?) and scramble to figure out a plan to keep young members engaged in the life of the church.
Increasingly, the "plan" has taken the form of a total image overhaul, where efforts are made to rebrand Christianity as hip, countercultural, relevant. As a result, in the early 2000s, we got something called "the emerging church"—a sort of postmodern stab at an evangelical reform movement. Perhaps because it was too "let's rethink everything" radical, it fizzled quickly. But the impulse behind it—to rehabilitate Christianity's image and make it "cool"—remains.
There are various ways that churches attempt to be cool. For some, it means trying to seem more culturally savvy. The pastor quotes Stephen Colbert or references Lady Gaga during his sermon, or a church sponsors a screening of the R-rated "No Country For Old Men." For others, the emphasis is on looking cool, perhaps by giving the pastor a metrosexual makeover, with skinny jeans and an $80 haircut, or by insisting on trendy eco-friendly paper and helvetica-only fonts on all printed materials. Then there is the option of holding a worship service in a bar or nightclub (as is the case for L.A.'s Mosaic church, whose downtown location meets at a nightspot called Club Mayan).
"Wannabe cool" Christianity also manifests itself as an obsession with being on the technological cutting edge. Churches like Central Christian in Las Vegas and Liquid Church in New Brunswick, N.J., for example, have online church services where people can have a worship experience at an "iCampus." Many other churches now encourage texting, Twitter and iPhone interaction with the pastor during their services.
But one of the most popular—and arguably most unseemly—methods of making Christianity hip is to make it shocking. What better way to appeal to younger generations than to push the envelope and go where no fundamentalist has gone before?
Sex is a popular shock tactic. Evangelical-authored books like "Sex God" (by Rob Bell) and "Real Sex" (by Lauren Winner) are par for the course these days. At the same time, many churches are finding creative ways to use sex-themed marketing gimmicks to lure people into church.
Oak Leaf Church in Cartersville, Georgia, created a website called yourgreatsexlife.com to pique the interest of young seekers. Flamingo Road Church in Florida created an online, anonymous confessional (IveScrewedUp.com), and had a web series called MyNakedPastor.com, which featured a 24/7 webcam showing five weeks in the life of the pastor, Troy Gramling. Then there is Mark Driscoll at Seattle's Mars Hill Church—who delivers sermons with titles like "Biblical Oral Sex" and "Pleasuring Your Spouse," and is probably the first and only pastor I have ever heard say the word "vulva" during a sermon.
But are these gimmicks really going to bring young people back to church? Is this what people really come to church for? Maybe sex sermons and indie- rock worship music do help in getting people in the door, and maybe even in winning new converts. But what sort of Christianity are they being converted to?
In his book, "The Courage to Be Protestant," David Wells writes:"The born-again, marketing church has calculated that unless it makes deep, serious cultural adaptations, it will go out of business, especially with the younger generations. What it has not considered carefully enough is that it may well be putting itself out of business with God.
"And the further irony," he adds, "is that the younger generations who are less impressed by whiz-bang technology, who often see through what is slick and glitzy, and who have been on the receiving end of enough marketing to nauseate them, are as likely to walk away from these oh-so-relevant churches as to walk into them."
If the evangelical Christian leadership thinks that "cool Christianity" is a sustainable path forward, they are severely mistaken. As a twentysomething, I can say with confidence that when it comes to church, we don't want cool as much as we want real.
If we are interested in Christianity in any sort of serious way, it is not because it's easy or trendy or popular. It's because Jesus himself is appealing, and what he says rings true. It's because the world we inhabit is utterly phony, ephemeral, narcissistic, image-obsessed and sex-drenched—and we want an alternative. It's not because we want more of the same.
Mr. McCracken's book, "Hipster Christianity: Where Church and Cool Collide" (Baker Books) was published this month.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
rest
Psalm 147 (The Message)
Hallelujah! It's a good thing to sing praise to our God;
praise is beautiful, praise is fitting.
2-6 God's the one who rebuilds Jerusalem,
who regathers Israel's scattered exiles.
He heals the heartbroken
and bandages their wounds.
He counts the stars
and assigns each a name.
Our Lord is great, with limitless strength;
we'll never comprehend what he knows and does.
God puts the fallen on their feet again
and pushes the wicked into the ditch.
7-11 Sing to God a thanksgiving hymn,
play music on your instruments to God,
Who fills the sky with clouds,
preparing rain for the earth,
Then turning the mountains green with grass,
feeding both cattle and crows.
He's not impressed with horsepower;
the size of our muscles means little to him.
Those who fear God get God's attention;
they can depend on his strength.
12-18 Jerusalem, worship God!
Zion, praise your God!
He made your city secure,
he blessed your children among you.
He keeps the peace at your borders,
he puts the best bread on your tables.
He launches his promises earthward—
how swift and sure they come!
He spreads snow like a white fleece,
he scatters frost like ashes,
He broadcasts hail like birdseed—
who can survive his winter?
Then he gives the command and it all melts;
he breathes on winter—suddenly it's spring!
19-20 He speaks the same way to Jacob,
speaks words that work to Israel.
He never did this to the other nations;
they never heard such commands.
Hallelujah!
Hallelujah! It's a good thing to sing praise to our God;
praise is beautiful, praise is fitting.
2-6 God's the one who rebuilds Jerusalem,
who regathers Israel's scattered exiles.
He heals the heartbroken
and bandages their wounds.
He counts the stars
and assigns each a name.
Our Lord is great, with limitless strength;
we'll never comprehend what he knows and does.
God puts the fallen on their feet again
and pushes the wicked into the ditch.
7-11 Sing to God a thanksgiving hymn,
play music on your instruments to God,
Who fills the sky with clouds,
preparing rain for the earth,
Then turning the mountains green with grass,
feeding both cattle and crows.
He's not impressed with horsepower;
the size of our muscles means little to him.
Those who fear God get God's attention;
they can depend on his strength.
12-18 Jerusalem, worship God!
Zion, praise your God!
He made your city secure,
he blessed your children among you.
He keeps the peace at your borders,
he puts the best bread on your tables.
He launches his promises earthward—
how swift and sure they come!
He spreads snow like a white fleece,
he scatters frost like ashes,
He broadcasts hail like birdseed—
who can survive his winter?
Then he gives the command and it all melts;
he breathes on winter—suddenly it's spring!
19-20 He speaks the same way to Jacob,
speaks words that work to Israel.
He never did this to the other nations;
they never heard such commands.
Hallelujah!
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
why not?
Methinks it would be interesting… at least to future me who undoubtedly is reading this after washing his 29 luxury sports cars and sending his maids and cooks home for the weekend (future me is a kind employer)…
OK that was an odd little tangent. Allow me to start over. Methinks that it would be interesting to post my prayers at the moment. You know, the stuff that is on my heart and mind as I take it to the Big Guy in the heart-to-heart we call prayer. It is such a blessing… SO take it for what it’s worth, I suppose…
BUT THEN I realize that its kinda personal… and I really don’t want you-who-read to have that kind of insight… if that makes any sense…
SO rather topics that are on my heart-
I pray that the Lord will heal the kids that are sick
Calm the families that are sad
Quiet the arguments that complicate relationships
Stir the love and affection of his children that they would desire to grow closer to Him and closer to each other
I am so deeply and profoundly blessed
I thank our God for the amazing people He has put into my life
The unfathomable opportunities and abilities He has given me
The wonderful volunteers and helpers that surround me
The people who love me and care about me and my future and would do anything to see me succeed and achieve my goals…
I pray for our church and its leadership
For vision and goals that are according to His will
For people to be willing to give of their time and talents to further His church
I pray for our country and this world
I pray that I would trust in God and not in man
That I would have faith in the Creator, not in markets
And I would keep my eyes fixed on the cross, not on the news ticker knowing that what was accomplished on that cross makes whatever unrest that swirls around me irrelevant because my future is secured in His nail-marked hands
I pray for guidance
I pray for self control
I pray for peace in my own heart
I pray that I would be humble in success and educated in my failures
I pray for wisdom
I pray that I would always be consciously aware of my Savior living within me and that I would always reflect the Love that He showed me on the cross
I pray boldly that God would take away the blinders and allow me to know without a doubt that the path that I am treading is absolutely His will for my life- that I am no blazing my own trail, but rather walking in the way He desires
I pray that His desire is my desire
And my love toward others is His love toward His children.
I pray for forgiveness
Again and again and again
I pray that I would be broken from this rut of sin
And declare war on the part of me that desires what is not of God
I cannot help but cower in shame as I realize the opportunities I willingly passed on today to share Jesus because I was scared or ashamed
I thank God for His Son
For His sacrifice
For His forgiveness
For His Holy Spirit
I pray the past would always be behind me
And the future would always be framed in trust and rooted in Christ
I pray for more opportunities to share today
I pray for companionship
For an understanding
For wholeness
I pray for my friends and family
For my kids and their families
And then…
I drift asleep…
In what is like a heavenly couch as I talk to my Daddy in heaven…
Let it be so.
OK that was an odd little tangent. Allow me to start over. Methinks that it would be interesting to post my prayers at the moment. You know, the stuff that is on my heart and mind as I take it to the Big Guy in the heart-to-heart we call prayer. It is such a blessing… SO take it for what it’s worth, I suppose…
BUT THEN I realize that its kinda personal… and I really don’t want you-who-read to have that kind of insight… if that makes any sense…
SO rather topics that are on my heart-
I pray that the Lord will heal the kids that are sick
Calm the families that are sad
Quiet the arguments that complicate relationships
Stir the love and affection of his children that they would desire to grow closer to Him and closer to each other
I am so deeply and profoundly blessed
I thank our God for the amazing people He has put into my life
The unfathomable opportunities and abilities He has given me
The wonderful volunteers and helpers that surround me
The people who love me and care about me and my future and would do anything to see me succeed and achieve my goals…
I pray for our church and its leadership
For vision and goals that are according to His will
For people to be willing to give of their time and talents to further His church
I pray for our country and this world
I pray that I would trust in God and not in man
That I would have faith in the Creator, not in markets
And I would keep my eyes fixed on the cross, not on the news ticker knowing that what was accomplished on that cross makes whatever unrest that swirls around me irrelevant because my future is secured in His nail-marked hands
I pray for guidance
I pray for self control
I pray for peace in my own heart
I pray that I would be humble in success and educated in my failures
I pray for wisdom
I pray that I would always be consciously aware of my Savior living within me and that I would always reflect the Love that He showed me on the cross
I pray boldly that God would take away the blinders and allow me to know without a doubt that the path that I am treading is absolutely His will for my life- that I am no blazing my own trail, but rather walking in the way He desires
I pray that His desire is my desire
And my love toward others is His love toward His children.
I pray for forgiveness
Again and again and again
I pray that I would be broken from this rut of sin
And declare war on the part of me that desires what is not of God
I cannot help but cower in shame as I realize the opportunities I willingly passed on today to share Jesus because I was scared or ashamed
I thank God for His Son
For His sacrifice
For His forgiveness
For His Holy Spirit
I pray the past would always be behind me
And the future would always be framed in trust and rooted in Christ
I pray for more opportunities to share today
I pray for companionship
For an understanding
For wholeness
I pray for my friends and family
For my kids and their families
And then…
I drift asleep…
In what is like a heavenly couch as I talk to my Daddy in heaven…
Let it be so.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
the way things was
OK 5 more phrases... I got a little bored of this one, but it's mildly entertaining...
sorry for the ending. :)
A couple of weeks ago my good friend Matt Chuchry and I went out for lunch at Chile’s. Personally I wanted to go to TGI’s as I love the Jack Bourbon Chicken, but Matt wanted the Awesome Blossom, so Chile’s it was. We had a lively conversation that brought be back to the good old days in the Chicken Coop (our old frat house). We had some great times in that dilapidated sky blue turned burnt orange Victorian style house. Of course there were the typical keg parties in the creepy stone basement and the beer pong tournaments in the breeze way, but my fondest memories were in the living room where a dozen couches created a semi-circle around a behemoth fireplace that would make Gaston from Beauty and the Beast jealous.
We would gather on those delightful davenports as brothers almost every evening and contemplate life’s most vexing questions. Things like “why do we exist?” “how many digits make up pi?” “where does the universe begin?” and “I wonder what is in a wonderball”. Things like that. So many memories.
One Sunday afternoon, after a long weekend of lawn jarts and general fraternal revelry, our newest pledge, Frank Syzmanski had a couple too many libations, if you know what I mean. He stumbled into the living room and collapsed on what happened to be my favorite of all the couches: a nice chartreuse crushed velvet number from 1963. It smelled of grandma’s musty basement with a hint of dried macaroni and cheese. Heavenly, really. There Frank laid for what seemed like days. He was stirred to consciousness by the faint yet distinct sound of tapping on the battered yet homely wooden floors. He half opened his bloodshot eyes to see two rather large mice scurrying around the floor running from one couch to another. Frank quickly jumped to his feet and grabbed a log from the epically proportioned fireplace. Without aiming (or thinking) he threw the smoldering log onto the floor in hopes of sending the vermin to their fiery graves. Much to Frank’s dismay, however, the log hit the hard wood floors and shattered into thousands of burning embers. The floors had a lacquer made of decades of spilled vodka and whiskey that was surprisingly still quite flammable. Within seconds the entire living room was engulfed in flames. The dry wood and multiple polyester love seats made for a dangerous cocktail of fire. By sun-down our beloved Chicken Coop was little more than ash and smoke. Ironically, the mice had quite the network of tunnels in the old place, so they were able to easily escape the flames unharmed.
We returned from our Sunday ritual of bocce ball and brunch to find our house decimated and Frank laying on the yard covered in soot and ashes. We ran over to him to see if he was alright. I took him in my arms as his limp head turned into my shoulder. He slowly opened his eyes red from the thick smoke and whispered something into my ear that I will never forget. He coughed slightly then said, “Life's a dance you learn as you go.” And with that he died.
I took those words and made them into a song with my old friend Matt Chuckelry. It went platinum and we made millions.
The End
sorry for the ending. :)
A couple of weeks ago my good friend Matt Chuchry and I went out for lunch at Chile’s. Personally I wanted to go to TGI’s as I love the Jack Bourbon Chicken, but Matt wanted the Awesome Blossom, so Chile’s it was. We had a lively conversation that brought be back to the good old days in the Chicken Coop (our old frat house). We had some great times in that dilapidated sky blue turned burnt orange Victorian style house. Of course there were the typical keg parties in the creepy stone basement and the beer pong tournaments in the breeze way, but my fondest memories were in the living room where a dozen couches created a semi-circle around a behemoth fireplace that would make Gaston from Beauty and the Beast jealous.
We would gather on those delightful davenports as brothers almost every evening and contemplate life’s most vexing questions. Things like “why do we exist?” “how many digits make up pi?” “where does the universe begin?” and “I wonder what is in a wonderball”. Things like that. So many memories.
One Sunday afternoon, after a long weekend of lawn jarts and general fraternal revelry, our newest pledge, Frank Syzmanski had a couple too many libations, if you know what I mean. He stumbled into the living room and collapsed on what happened to be my favorite of all the couches: a nice chartreuse crushed velvet number from 1963. It smelled of grandma’s musty basement with a hint of dried macaroni and cheese. Heavenly, really. There Frank laid for what seemed like days. He was stirred to consciousness by the faint yet distinct sound of tapping on the battered yet homely wooden floors. He half opened his bloodshot eyes to see two rather large mice scurrying around the floor running from one couch to another. Frank quickly jumped to his feet and grabbed a log from the epically proportioned fireplace. Without aiming (or thinking) he threw the smoldering log onto the floor in hopes of sending the vermin to their fiery graves. Much to Frank’s dismay, however, the log hit the hard wood floors and shattered into thousands of burning embers. The floors had a lacquer made of decades of spilled vodka and whiskey that was surprisingly still quite flammable. Within seconds the entire living room was engulfed in flames. The dry wood and multiple polyester love seats made for a dangerous cocktail of fire. By sun-down our beloved Chicken Coop was little more than ash and smoke. Ironically, the mice had quite the network of tunnels in the old place, so they were able to easily escape the flames unharmed.
We returned from our Sunday ritual of bocce ball and brunch to find our house decimated and Frank laying on the yard covered in soot and ashes. We ran over to him to see if he was alright. I took him in my arms as his limp head turned into my shoulder. He slowly opened his eyes red from the thick smoke and whispered something into my ear that I will never forget. He coughed slightly then said, “Life's a dance you learn as you go.” And with that he died.
I took those words and made them into a song with my old friend Matt Chuckelry. It went platinum and we made millions.
The End
Monday, August 9, 2010
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Saturday, August 7, 2010
this'll make your brain hurt...
The question of what is real has never really bothered me, that is until I started reading philosophy. The fact of the matter is, reality is a relative, changing concept that cannot and will not be defined. For instance, before September 11th, a plane crashing into the Pentagon was only fantasy, written by Tom Clancy. At 9:55 am on September 11, the image of a plane tearing down buildings became a reality, albeit harsh. Plato best illustrates this in his allegory of the cave, found in his masterpiece, The Republic. In this allegory he tells of men raised in cave and forced to live in restraints, allowing them to only look forward. The cave is lit by the sun at the very top, and a fire behind and above them. In this cave there are men who take statues and caricatures of animals and people and parade them in front of the fire light, thus throwing shadows all over the walls of the dimly lit prison. Plato writes: "If they could converse with one another, do you not think that they would consider these shadows to be the real things?- Necessarily." He continues to say, "Altogether then, I said, such men would believe the truth to be nothing else than the shadows of the artifacts?- They must believe that."
For those men, the shadows were real, living beings. How do I know that when I see myself in the mirror that that is a real reflection of myself? How do I know that I am really typing this bla(h)g? Who tells me that the word "hello" is a salutation? I've never looked up the word "hello" in the dictionary, and yet I know what it means, why? Moreover, how do I know what I believe is the color blue is in fact that color? The answer is one that philosophers have lamented over for hundreds of years, and I will make no attempt to end their quest. Rather the point that I want to make is reality is different for everyone, and, I feel, is equally determined by ones perceptions and ones upbringing.
I will discuss the latter first. How I was raised determined what I know to be true. Plato realizes this when he makes the condition in his cave allegory that "The men have been there from childhood..." Why does that matter? Why did Plato make that condition? If I was placed in the conditions of the cave tomorrow, and someone was to parade around with the statues and such, I would be able to determine say a real tiger from a shadow, because I was raised to look at my shadow and I was taught how to discern my shadow from my real body mass. The men, who spent their whole life in the cave, had no way of knowing the difference of a shadow and a statue, because they have never known any other way. The same is true in everyday life. If I was raised in the South Hampton’s with a butler and a maid, the reality of having to use a washing machine is nonexistent. Perhaps that example is weak, but my point remains strong; reality is in part conditional upon the state of affairs leading towards ones maturity.
The other half of the reality equation is ones understanding of his perception. I believe the term that defines this anomaly is Subjective Idealism. That is, reality is mental and dependent on the mind perceiving them. Once again, George Berkeley, the 17th century Irish philosopher put it like this in his work, The Principles of Human Knowledge. He writes, "That neither our thoughts, nor passions, nor ideas formed by the imagination, exist without the mind, is what everybody will allow.--And to me it is no less evident that the various sensations, or ideas imprinted on the sense, however blended or combined together (that is, whatever objects they compose), cannot exist otherwise than in a mind perceiving them-I think an intuitive knowledge may be obtained of this by anyone that shall attend to what is meant by the term exist when applied to sensible things." He goes on to say, "The table I write on I say exists, that is, I see and feel it; and if I were out of my study I should say it existed--meaning thereby that if I were in my study I might perceive it, or that some other spirit actually does perceive it." He concludes by stating, "This is all that I can understand by these and the like expressions.-- For as to what is said of the absolute existence of unthinking things without any relation to their being perceived, that is to me perfectly unintelligible. ...Nor it is possible they should have any existence out of the minds or thinking things which perceive them."
Berkeley, in his longwinded intelligence has hit the nail on the proverbial head. How can things exist without someone first perceiving them? For example, how could the plane come into being without one of the Wright brothers, and hundreds before them first conceiving such a wild idea of a flying machine? If something is perceived to be real, to the person doing the perceiving, that thing is reality—because it is impossible to discern perception from actual reality. Now this theory is dangerously without limits. I say that because to some people Elvis is living in their basement, or little green men are communicating to them. But under the laws of subjective idealism, these perceptions are reality.
I think the school of thought that best fits my personal beliefs on things metaphysical is a post-modern antirealist constructionist view. We hold that there is no objective reality (one that applies to everyone/everything) but rather reality is personal, shaped solely by influences and experiences. Manuel Velasquez says that for the postmodern antirealist “there is no reality independent of the particular language or system of concepts we use and the particular world or worlds we create with them.” That is there is no “real world” or ultimate reality, only the one that you’re living in—whether it is considered reality by the masses or not, it IS indeed reality to you, thus real.
The reality of the matter is that reality is a complex phenomenon. I once got a fortune cookie that read, "Reality is for those with no imagination". I agree with that sentiment. In our day and age, reality has a negative stigma attached to it. That is, when someone needs to face reality, he needs to realize that he has made a mess and needs to get his head out of the clouds. To me reality is what the world does, that is, the social norm. Now, whether or not I spend any time in reality depends on my mood on any given day. My definition of reality is to conform to the ideals of the masses (a neo-materialist view, I suppose). Most of the time I'm a conformist. I have been trained to accept what is real by looking at what the masses find real, thus my sense of reality is horribly corrupted. History is the perfect example: we’ve been taught in our American schools that we (the allies) won the Second World War. Chinese students, however, have been taught that Americans were holding out of the war until it was profitable for us to enter it-we then bombed our enemies, colonized Japan, and tried (and failed) to democratize Germany. To thousands of Chinese students the U.S. is an evil tyrant with out eyes on world domination. The threat of American invasion is a reality to millions of Chinese people. Are they wrong? I think that most Americans agree that we have no intention to invade China anytime soon (if ever). But the Chinese don’t feel that way; whose reality is correct? It is impossible to prove one’s reality as superior or “more correct” then another, thus reality is not a standard by which we can measure, but rather a personal, subjective, relative idea.
Finally, it seems to me that those who dare to dream, those with an imagination, are looked down upon and are expected to fail. On the other hand, the few who succeed get movies made about their life, (ref. Rudy, Shackleton's Adventure, October Sky and countless other "heart warming stories of overcoming all the odds") telling all of us to follow our dreams and never give up. Those deciding what reality is (the masses), would say that you're an idiot for being different, that you should know your role and shut up, and stop making waves, because it's annoying us. And yet if his perception of the world is one that he is successful, whether it be by surviving in Antarctica, or playing football for Notre Dame, he is accused of being unrealistic- that is until (or unless) he succeeds. To perceive against the accepted reality is to be ridiculed. But to those who choose to remain in their perceived world and make it become a real world are the spoils! What is real? The only reality is there is no objective reality.
For those men, the shadows were real, living beings. How do I know that when I see myself in the mirror that that is a real reflection of myself? How do I know that I am really typing this bla(h)g? Who tells me that the word "hello" is a salutation? I've never looked up the word "hello" in the dictionary, and yet I know what it means, why? Moreover, how do I know what I believe is the color blue is in fact that color? The answer is one that philosophers have lamented over for hundreds of years, and I will make no attempt to end their quest. Rather the point that I want to make is reality is different for everyone, and, I feel, is equally determined by ones perceptions and ones upbringing.
I will discuss the latter first. How I was raised determined what I know to be true. Plato realizes this when he makes the condition in his cave allegory that "The men have been there from childhood..." Why does that matter? Why did Plato make that condition? If I was placed in the conditions of the cave tomorrow, and someone was to parade around with the statues and such, I would be able to determine say a real tiger from a shadow, because I was raised to look at my shadow and I was taught how to discern my shadow from my real body mass. The men, who spent their whole life in the cave, had no way of knowing the difference of a shadow and a statue, because they have never known any other way. The same is true in everyday life. If I was raised in the South Hampton’s with a butler and a maid, the reality of having to use a washing machine is nonexistent. Perhaps that example is weak, but my point remains strong; reality is in part conditional upon the state of affairs leading towards ones maturity.
The other half of the reality equation is ones understanding of his perception. I believe the term that defines this anomaly is Subjective Idealism. That is, reality is mental and dependent on the mind perceiving them. Once again, George Berkeley, the 17th century Irish philosopher put it like this in his work, The Principles of Human Knowledge. He writes, "That neither our thoughts, nor passions, nor ideas formed by the imagination, exist without the mind, is what everybody will allow.--And to me it is no less evident that the various sensations, or ideas imprinted on the sense, however blended or combined together (that is, whatever objects they compose), cannot exist otherwise than in a mind perceiving them-I think an intuitive knowledge may be obtained of this by anyone that shall attend to what is meant by the term exist when applied to sensible things." He goes on to say, "The table I write on I say exists, that is, I see and feel it; and if I were out of my study I should say it existed--meaning thereby that if I were in my study I might perceive it, or that some other spirit actually does perceive it." He concludes by stating, "This is all that I can understand by these and the like expressions.-- For as to what is said of the absolute existence of unthinking things without any relation to their being perceived, that is to me perfectly unintelligible. ...Nor it is possible they should have any existence out of the minds or thinking things which perceive them."
Berkeley, in his longwinded intelligence has hit the nail on the proverbial head. How can things exist without someone first perceiving them? For example, how could the plane come into being without one of the Wright brothers, and hundreds before them first conceiving such a wild idea of a flying machine? If something is perceived to be real, to the person doing the perceiving, that thing is reality—because it is impossible to discern perception from actual reality. Now this theory is dangerously without limits. I say that because to some people Elvis is living in their basement, or little green men are communicating to them. But under the laws of subjective idealism, these perceptions are reality.
I think the school of thought that best fits my personal beliefs on things metaphysical is a post-modern antirealist constructionist view. We hold that there is no objective reality (one that applies to everyone/everything) but rather reality is personal, shaped solely by influences and experiences. Manuel Velasquez says that for the postmodern antirealist “there is no reality independent of the particular language or system of concepts we use and the particular world or worlds we create with them.” That is there is no “real world” or ultimate reality, only the one that you’re living in—whether it is considered reality by the masses or not, it IS indeed reality to you, thus real.
The reality of the matter is that reality is a complex phenomenon. I once got a fortune cookie that read, "Reality is for those with no imagination". I agree with that sentiment. In our day and age, reality has a negative stigma attached to it. That is, when someone needs to face reality, he needs to realize that he has made a mess and needs to get his head out of the clouds. To me reality is what the world does, that is, the social norm. Now, whether or not I spend any time in reality depends on my mood on any given day. My definition of reality is to conform to the ideals of the masses (a neo-materialist view, I suppose). Most of the time I'm a conformist. I have been trained to accept what is real by looking at what the masses find real, thus my sense of reality is horribly corrupted. History is the perfect example: we’ve been taught in our American schools that we (the allies) won the Second World War. Chinese students, however, have been taught that Americans were holding out of the war until it was profitable for us to enter it-we then bombed our enemies, colonized Japan, and tried (and failed) to democratize Germany. To thousands of Chinese students the U.S. is an evil tyrant with out eyes on world domination. The threat of American invasion is a reality to millions of Chinese people. Are they wrong? I think that most Americans agree that we have no intention to invade China anytime soon (if ever). But the Chinese don’t feel that way; whose reality is correct? It is impossible to prove one’s reality as superior or “more correct” then another, thus reality is not a standard by which we can measure, but rather a personal, subjective, relative idea.
Finally, it seems to me that those who dare to dream, those with an imagination, are looked down upon and are expected to fail. On the other hand, the few who succeed get movies made about their life, (ref. Rudy, Shackleton's Adventure, October Sky and countless other "heart warming stories of overcoming all the odds") telling all of us to follow our dreams and never give up. Those deciding what reality is (the masses), would say that you're an idiot for being different, that you should know your role and shut up, and stop making waves, because it's annoying us. And yet if his perception of the world is one that he is successful, whether it be by surviving in Antarctica, or playing football for Notre Dame, he is accused of being unrealistic- that is until (or unless) he succeeds. To perceive against the accepted reality is to be ridiculed. But to those who choose to remain in their perceived world and make it become a real world are the spoils! What is real? The only reality is there is no objective reality.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Monday, August 2, 2010
so far...
OK day one in the books. i'm so so so sore from softball, so sleeping one the floor is a challenge... but all in all A-OK. I have an AMAZING team around me, and it makes a world of difference. God is good.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Hands of the Potter
I love Randall, and I really dig this tune. He's one that I'm proud to have on speed-dial. I love knowing people.
enjoy, yo!
Hands of The Potter
Written By: Randall Goodgame
Lord if I'm the clay then I've been left out in the sun
Cracked and dry, like mud from the sky
Still clinging to the prodigal sun
But I'm on my way back home
Yes I'm on my way back home
Into the hands
That made the wine from the water
Into the hands
The hands of the Potter
Lord if I'm the clay that let your living water flow
Soften up my edges Lord
So everyone will know
That I'm on my way back home
Yes I'm on my way back home
And Lord when you listen for the song of my life
Let it be, let it be, a song so sweet
Let it be, let it be, a song so sweet
Let it be, let it be, a song so sweet, let it be
Lord if I'm the clay then lay me down
On your spinning wheel
Shape me into something you can fill
With something real
And I'll be on my way back home
Yes I'm on my way back home
enjoy, yo!
Hands of The Potter
Written By: Randall Goodgame
Lord if I'm the clay then I've been left out in the sun
Cracked and dry, like mud from the sky
Still clinging to the prodigal sun
But I'm on my way back home
Yes I'm on my way back home
Into the hands
That made the wine from the water
Into the hands
The hands of the Potter
Lord if I'm the clay that let your living water flow
Soften up my edges Lord
So everyone will know
That I'm on my way back home
Yes I'm on my way back home
And Lord when you listen for the song of my life
Let it be, let it be, a song so sweet
Let it be, let it be, a song so sweet
Let it be, let it be, a song so sweet, let it be
Lord if I'm the clay then lay me down
On your spinning wheel
Shape me into something you can fill
With something real
And I'll be on my way back home
Yes I'm on my way back home
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