‘Twas the Very First Christmas

Merry Christmas.

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‘Twas the Very First Christmas

‘Twas the very first Christmas, when all o’er the earth
Not a creature took notice when a virgin gave birth.
She wrapped Him up in swaddling clothes,
Nursed Him; held Him; Still, nobody knows.

The sheep were sleeping in flocks where they lie;
While shepherds stood watch under His sky.
With the Son in a manger and mama close by;
listening close, would we hear God cry?

Then all of a sudden angels appeared in the skies;
And the shepherds fell back, afraid for their lives.
The angels sang out, “A Savior is Born!”
Still no one knew; the curtain was torn.

The darkness trembled in the still of that night;
New hope was dawning with this baby of light.
“He is Christ the Lord!” the angels did sing.
How could it be, heaven had sent the king?

In hundreds an’ thousands in numbers they came;
some poor an’ some rich; all lost just the same.
A light in the sky would guide them they thought;
what little they knew of this child they sought.

All weary and broken and tired they came;
His father in Heaven calls each by name.
They’re seeking a child and an answer to “Why?”
For them God became man, to suffer and die.

Magi carried gifts to a far away town;
Gold, frankincense, myrrh they laid down.
Humbled before Him; God had come near;
How could they know, the gift was right here.

He left golden streets and His crystal sea;
choosing instead, the hill of calvary.
He went about His mission, beginning to end;
A message of love, determined to send.

Nobles and peasants, their lives He would lead;
Still no one knew; for us He would bleed.
In a barn they knelt down where the child did lay;
No one knew death would die the third day.

Like a whisper He came from Heaven above;
to finish His work; to show us His love.
People would wonder, still most do not know;
what happened in Bethlehem so long ago.

Many rulers and kings and powers that be;
have plotted to stop Him from setting us free.
Yet, centuries have come an’ centuries have gone;
their kingdoms are dust; the Christ child lives on!

© 2003-20011

Body. Mind. Heart. Soul.

Sometimes I think
I should have run away
Bodily, I mean

Bodily, at rest
Inertial fears press down
A broken peace
A drop in some lost whole

Conflicting memories race
Caging each and every thought
Long to erase the curse
Of a mind that will not forget

As burning red tears pump
Relentlessly throbbing
Within a boney tell-tale chest
A weakness I learned to despise

My soul, tormentor
Forced me to take no prisoners
And throw away the key
To any hope of escape.

I should have run away
Bodily, I mean

Church Bans Mixed-Race, Trans-Millennial-GenXer, Same-Sex Couples

Yourbackyard, US — A middle-class, eastern, orthodox, poly-damnational church came under a firestorm of criticism when its members voted to ban a mixed-race, transmillennial-genXer, same-sex couple from participation in all church functions.

Well, except for funerals. When asked for comment, the ban’s advocate, Mr. Ben A. Phrade (52) said, “Of course it’s not a complete ban. I mean, they can still come to funerals! We would be more than happy to bury them when their time comes.”

On December 1st, 2012, the Good News Free For All Church in Yourbackyard voted 6 out of 9 to ban all such couples from their church. B. A. Phrade clarified, “The 6 – 9 vote should not be viewed as any endorsement or prohibition of any implied double entendre.”

Laughing, he added, “I’m kidding of course. I mean, I don’t even know what any of that means.”

The problem started when Stacy (24) came home for thanksgiving with fiance Terry (28) in tow and they performed the song, “How Great is Our God”, which, for obvious reasons, repulses just about everyone anymore.

Phrade explained, “Their ignorance of hip worship is a common symptom of trans-millennial-genXer couples. I mean listen, we’re an open church. We don’t care if you’re black and we don’t care if you’re a girly-man. We just cannot condone, much less affirm, the mixing of these two extremely troubled generations. God forbid they start producing offspring!”

But… they’re a same-sex couple?!

“Ric, are you one of those homosexuals, too?”

So this is about their genitals?

“No, no … of course not. That song has the same impact irregardless of the color of their genitalia.”

So this is about their race?

“Listen, Ric, you’re white, right, married, and possess external genitalia, right? Why don’t you sit here silently like the others.”

Speaking of which, what about the silent outrage brewing in the living rooms of the majority of Christians who believe your views are wrong?

Phrade proudly quipped, “I’m not here to please men.”

And then he winked, adding, “Besides, I’m not that narrow; I have a wide stance.”

Ben A. Phrade’s penchant for pleasing other men aside, Stacy, Terry, and this song are asking a compelling question: How great is our God?

I Need Some More

On Sunday, guest speaker, Bruce Johnson (wiredtogrow.com), taught at the Mid-Atlantic Community Church (aka, The MACC themacc.org). The message/sermon is posted here: http://themacc.org/uploads/112011_1100.mp3. It sets out to be the standard tithing sermon, which, were that achieved, I would simply be letting out a heavy sigh and moving on. However, there are statements within this particular message that deviate too far outside a simple heavy sigh response.

Bruce is introduced by the Senior and Founding Pastor, Lew Schrumm. Lew speaks very highly of Bruce’s accomplishments and of their relationship. Bruce started a church plant with just a couple of families and it grew to 2000 members. He became a church planting coach for a period of time, where Lew and he met. Bruce left ministry and became a business consultant helping businesses become more profitable. Lew points out that Bruce has been his personal mentor/coach for the past 18 months. All this to say, Bruce is presented as an authority, which is fine and good, as long as he wields great authority with great humility.

To help clarify my position, I am objecting to some key points within the content of this message, nothing more.  I do not know Bruce. However, some of his (hopefully off-script) comments vacillate between overtly-persuasive, hyperbolic sales-pitches and just plain wrong.

Additionally, I have been a member of the MACC for seven years. The good news for all people is preached and lived here. Usually the guest speakers bless the community. If you came into worship afflicted and left even more so, know that is in no way representative of the last 7 years.

We are in this together. We are not in competition.

At 2:00, immediately after the introduction, Bruce’s opening remarks:

“I started with all those young guys by the way [Lew and several other church planting pastors] and you guys and Lew have schmoked all of them! You’re church has done phenomenally well of the past 6, 7 years. So, good news for you.”

I hear this all the time {heavy sigh}. Normally my heavy sigh is enough and no more is needed. However, Bruce’s opening remark sets a sales-pitch tone that never dissipates.  A church plant is not in competition with other church plants or, for that matter, any other churches. Never has been. Never should will be. Because if we are, we are no longer the church. I think this competitive spirit is a business consultant’s sales-pitch showing. Businesses compete because there is only so much revenue to be gained. However, within the church there is grace enough for all. And then some.

Again, this content objection alone is not much more that a annoying nit — It could not stand on its own. Unfortunately, it does not have to…

Financial giving is a sacrifice not an investment.

At 7:27, we get one full minute of the prosperity gospel. There really is no other way to describe it. The zinger at the end of  the minute (again, possible attempt at off-script humor/sales) seals this deal.

“The third reason you don’t need to be afraid is because the bible clearly links God’s blessing to giving! So why should you ever be afraid to hear a message of more of God’s blessings. I mean, I don’t know about you, but I need some more. Right?”

So far, well, okay. If Bruce would continue on by carefully define the many possible ways God might bless us, it would be okay and I’d be simply letting out my heavy sigh. Sadly, he zooms in on only one possible blessing: $$$. This singular misconception has led to the birth of the prosperity gospel churches. Televangelists have popularized this misconception to the point of absurd self-parodies. I think American capitalism seduces the church into buying this “investment/lets make a deal” Christianity.

We could easily cut-n-paste the beatitudes or Job or Moses or Paul or Jesus himself to illustrate the many non-financial blessings that may come. Suffice it to say, if more giving translates to more financial blessings, Mother Theresa (who gave roughly 89% more than 10%) should have died the wealthiest person in history, next to Jesus, of course, who gave all. Yet both of them, and many others, died living in abject poverty.

Jesus states that those who follow him will have suffering in this world. Paul counts himself blessed to suffer for Christ’s sake. The blessing one might receive may very well be suffering, which is pretty far away from financial blessings.

This “how to cash in on God” is the carrot. The stick is reserved for minute 35:00. God smiting the financially unfaithful may be found there. Then 3 or 4 examples at the end supporting these claims. Sad and scary. Buying God’s blessings. If it were as simplistically formulaic as implied here, we would never need another sales pitch/sermon on this topic. Yet, there are several millionaire non-Christians and millions of impoverished, devoted followers of Christ. The empirical data over the past few thousand years does not support this formula. And, if we study it in its entirety, neither does the Bible.

Tithing to a church is most definitely NOT a God-Love barometer with which we may judge each other.

Whatever anyone wants to believe with respect to tithing is fine with me. If you believe the 10% tithe applies in the new covenant and want to give that and more to your local church, do so. If you believe tithes were the temple tax that died with Christ, that fine too. And any belief in between is cool. I’m fine with pretty much anything on your tithe belief because I place tithing in the non-essential area of our faith. However, once someone places this in the essential elements of our faith, we have a problem. Bruce does this, in the harshest of possible terms, at around 17:00 minutes into his sermon pitch.

“When I was pastoring, I used to know how much everyone in our church gave. And so people would come up and they’d say, ‘Hey, I love God!’ And I’d be sitting there thinking, ‘No you don’t! Because I know you make over a 100 grand a year, and last year you gave $300! That’s less than 6 bucks a week. You spend more on coffee each week… than you give to God. Don’t tell me you love God because it’s not true!”

If you feel the surrounding context helps to soften the blow of these words, maybe you gave more than $300 last year. Or maybe you make only 99 grand. Or maybe you were not listening. These words are wrong on at least two levels. Nothing softens the blow of these harsh, judgmental words. These words have no place in the mouth or heart of any Christian.

So the rich people present who give very little just got called out. You don’t love God. You’re lying. You’re a fake. A phoney. Christ obviously is not in you. Which really, is not that much of a stretch since that is what those words actually mean! And the not so rich got a little reprieve… they may still love God even though they put damn little in the church offering plates. Although, they too spent more on coffee last week. So yeah, you don’t love God either I guess. Sucks for you, eh?

Based on two pieces of data, Bruce passes an extremely harsh judgement. Judgement is (obviously, I hope) the second level of wrong. Here we see our senior pastor’s pastor, his mentor and coach, modeling an extremely harsh judgmental attitude towards brothers and sisters! He makes no apology at all for thinking these thoughts. He shares these sinful thoughts as though they represent a good, sound sermon illustration. He’s actually sounds proud. Everyone listening (hopefully most were tuned out by this point) immediately wondered if Bruce’s student, their very own pastor, has been, silently and hypocritically, passing the same harsh judgment upon them week after week.

It is most certainly is not okay for a pastor, Christian, or any respectful human being, to pass harsh judgments based on two numbers. Or 70 even. To which, God’s people say, “Well, duh!?”

I need some more.

At this point, a mere 18 minutes into a 52 minute message, this sermon is completely off the track. I cannot say how the messenger traveled so far off track. Bruce is, no doubt, very good at selling ideas to business people. He may be a very good teaching pastor on all other topics. For now (as I do not have anywhere near enough information from which to draw any judgement), I am assuming his zeal for pitching persuasive sales gets the better of him. You are welcome to listen to the remaining 34 minutes. However, I would strongly recommend against any serious study based on this message.

“I need some more.” Bruce says this early on and I found myself repeating these words in my head as I left. There are many better messages, delivered with reverence and humility, on the topic of giving. A very good message, like Jesus himself, comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comfortable. This message achieves the exact opposite: comforting the comfortable and afflicting the afflicted.

From this Valley, The Civil Wars

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To My Two Dads on Father’s Day

Dear Dad & Dad,

This will be my first Father’s Day without either of you — my first fatherless Father’s Day, in the strict, physical sense. This year I did not shop for a card and read all the you-were-always-there-for-me hallmark crap, that sometimes made me cry but mostly drove me insane. I also did not NOT shop for a card, which also sometimes made me cry but mostly drove me insane.

This year I might even go to church on Father’s Day since I will not have to field questions about either of you. 

Hey brother, have you called your father? grin. wink.

Although I remember enjoying imagining responses like:

Well, I have call my fathers a lot of things. grin. wink.

Which, in the reality of my mind, sometimes made me cry but mostly just drove me insane.

This year I can simply report that you are both dead. Shutting down any further conversation. That, now that I imagine it, may well make me cry and, in the end, drive me insane. Again.

Then, when people ask me for clarification it sometimes hurts.

Was it your step-dad or your real dad who /abandoned/abused/neglected/ you?

It hurts because both of you are my real dads. And, at the same time, neither of you were.

It hurts because I know the answer to the question is simply, “Yes.” I know I avoided that answer for most of my life because, well, I wanted to be thought normal. When people shared stories about their childhoods, I wanted to join in. Belong. So I never spoke of the time you threw me out of the boat at 3 to teach me to swim. I never spoke of the times mommy was bad and you sent to her room until she could be good. I never shared how much I enjoyed being held by you while you were beating me. I didn’t think anyone would appreciate those stories.

Dads, I sometimes see your reflections in the mirror of my life. In my parenting. In my marriage. In my self. I have hated you for that. And naturally, by extension, I have hated myself. Deeply and passionately.

But now, you are both in a better place. As am I. I want you to know, although you never came to any sporting events, never read any bedtime stories, and never comforted, I am no longer angry. And despite any appearance to the contrary, I no longer hate on you.

Thank you for the good memories and the hugs later in life. Thank you for telling me, “I love you” before you died.

I forgive you, Dad (again). Happy Father’s Day.

I forgive you, Dad (again). Happy Father’s Day.

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My Father’s Day is called Easter by everyone else I know…

a∙wake

a∙wake

verb, to stir.
noun, a celebration, albeit painful

I love Mumford & Sons’ music.

(closely related poem: As Apathy Decays)

Hell Hath No Fury Like a Centuries Old Church Tradition Openly Challenged

I just finished Rob Bell’s Love Wins. I know this is old news, which is the same as not news, but hey, I’m a slow reader.

A friend of mine found Rob’s writing style annoying.

I
…on the other hand
did not
find anything
annoying
or new, for that matter.

Go figure.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch…

Rob Bell has a speaking style. So I listen to him speak rather than read his words. This is easy for me because I do not read.  I have to see the words on the page, hear the words in my head, construct a mental image of each and every scene, play and replay the mental movie, and then (and pretty much, only then) I can move on to the next paragraph/thought/scene. I think this is why I probably favor poetry.

[The one thing that does bug me is Bell's love of the contraction. I always expand them, which lengthens the reading process even more.]

Love Wins reflects Bell’s poetic, preaching, teaching, spoken-word style. So, while it may be 200 pages, it really says little more than a college term paper. But I don’t much care for reading college term papers and neither do you.

Here are some of the lines in the book that I love:

• They’re nouns that mean something only in conjunction with verbs. (p44)
• In the Genesis poem that begins the Bible, … (p44, again.)
• Again, surprise. (p52. hysterically true. poetically so. This is the entire paragraph, btw, which is funnier still.)
• We live in several dimensions.
  Up and down.
  Left and right.
  Forward and backward.
  Three to be exact. (p59. See? Funny.)
• Those aren’t metaphorical missing arms and legs. (p71. And sad.)
• We can use machetes if we want to. (p72 And tragically true.)
• I could go on though to page 196: It will require a death, …

Unlike a college term paper, I rather enjoyed Love Wins. Bell does suggest there may be such a thing as unconscious salvation but then so did Tony Campolo in his Letters to a Young Evangelical. To my knowledge, Tony has yet to get any farewell tweet, which is a good thing.

Bell also acknowledges and explores God’s desire that all would be reconciled to Him, which earned him the heretic label from many a conservative. However, if lifting up some verses over others is all it takes to be branded with the Scarlet-H, he’ll be in good company with a rather large crowd.

Believe Out Loud Ad

I long for the day that we can cease acting like the world in this respect.

No more staring.
No more pointing.
No more ostracizing an entire people group.
No more tears. Now that would be cool.

Count me as one of the million.

Compile. Arrange. And Tweek. Stand by…

Edit. And Move. And Check. oh my.

About my blogging, I am absent. It’s not you; it’s me. I live for opportunities to use that line.

Well, technically I’m not absent at this particular moment, as I am typing this new post. However, by the time you read these words I will, once again, be absent. No, I am not mad at you.

I am using my few free minutes in the evenings to compile an anthology of poems I’ve written over past 10 years. I am picky a terminal perfectionist, so not all are making the cut. Probably less than 60 pages.

What I am discovering about this exercise is it’s incredibly fun scary. You see, once I publish my words in book form with an ISBN and you know, page numbers, my words will no longer be malleable. I will have chiseled them into proverbial tablets. So, I am analyzing the words and the format and punctuation and line breaks and the meter and the font and …

I’m an anal analyzer. If you need anything analyzed, I’m your guy. But, not right now. Too busy.

I’m enlisting the assistance of a couple of gullible good friends who naively graciously agreed to review and react to some of what I’m compiling.

At my current pace, the anthology should arrive by June, sometime this summer, just in time for the holidays! Woot, huh?

So, yeah, that’s my excuse story.

I do have a couple of questions for you readers out there:

Should I use my full name (Eric William Booth) or my nickname (doofuss Ric Booth)?

As the author and publisher how strict should the “All rights reserved” paragraph read?
a) No copies without written permission. (buy the book, cheapskate)
b) Copies permitted as long as they are not used for profit (and are used to project the author / poet in a very good, seemingly halo light).

There is no introduction or forward of any kind. Is that a mistake?

Cover: custom designed? plain? photograph of something poetic, like a meter stick or a bald eagle with a Trump hair-piece? Photograph of me with my best fake smile? Sketch of my quill (the keyboard)?

Serif or sans serif?

Name of the book in the page header?

My name in the page header?

Should I bother with copy on the back

See what I mean? Analyzer.