Thursday, March 31, 2005
Barbie Jesus
As a Christian I think I am supposed to be disgusted by a Jesus doll - especially one that is described as "Barbie-sized." But as someone who, uh, well, has a small collection of Jesus dolls / action figures, it'd be kinda hypocritical. You, on the other hand, can feel free to be as outraged as you want. Check out this article that tells all about a new Jesus doll that recites a scripture every time you press his button. (Insert your own joke here.)
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Forgive Me Father For I Have Pooped
Another idea whose time hasn't come. A pub in Scotland "is encouraging the practice (of confession) by installing an original church confessional box as a double toilet cubicle." Yes that's right, The Scotsman has the latest news on Turning Bar's Toilets into A Confessional.
Monday, March 28, 2005
Wallis and Vomit
I have the feeling that Jim Wallis makes a lot of conservative evangelicals sick to their stomachs but for others of us, he represents a perspective that many Christians share. His latest book, "God's Politics: Why the Right Gets it Wrong and the Left Doesn't Get It" is a national bestseller and the magazine he edits, Sojourners, has long been a guiding light to social conscience of evangelical Christians. The LA Times has a nice front page profile of Wallis titled Gospel for Both Sides of the Aisle. Check it out.
Sunday, March 27, 2005
The Art Collector
Happy Easter! Here's a time honored story that I think does a great job of illustrating the significance of Easter.
Years ago, there was a very wealthy man who, with his devoted young son, shared a passion for art collecting. Together they traveled around the world, adding only the finest art treasures to their collection. Priceless works by Picasso, Van Gogh, Monet and many others adorned the walls of the family estate.
The widowed elder man looked on with satisfaction as his only child became an experienced art collector. The son's trained eye and sharp business mind caused his father to beam with pride as they dealt with art collectors around the world.
As winter approached, war engulfed the nation, and the young man left to serve his country. After only a few short weeks, his father received a telegram. His beloved son was missing in action. The art collector anxiously awaited more news, fearing he would never see his son again. Within days, his fears were confirmed, the young man had died while rushing a fellow soldier to a medic.
Distraught and lonely, the old man viewed the upcoming Christmas holidays with anguish and sadness. The joy of the season, that he and his son had so looked forward to, would visit his house no longer.
On Christmas morning a knock on the door awakened the depressed, old man. As he walked to the door, the expensive masterpieces of art on the walls only reminded him that his son was not coming home. As he opened the door, he was greeted by a soldier with a large package in his hands.
He introduced himself to the man by saying, "I was a friend of your son. I was the one he was rescuing when he died. May I come in for a few moments? I have something to show you."
As the old man unwrapped the package, the paper gave way to reveal a portrait of the man's son. Though the world would never consider it the work of a genius, the painting featured the young man's face in striking detail.
Overcome with emotion, he thanked the soldier, promising to hang the picture above the fireplace. A few hours later, after the soldier had departed, the old man set about his task. True to his word, the painting went above the fireplace, pushing aside thousands of dollars worth of art.
His task completed, the old man sat in his chair and spent Christmas gazing at the gift he had been given.
During the days and weeks that followed, the man realized that even though his son was no longer with him, the boy's life would live on because of those he had touched. He would soon learn that his son had rescued dozens of wounded soldiers before a bullet stilled his caring heart. As the stories of his son's gallantry continued to reach him, and fatherly pride and satisfaction began to ease his grief, the painting of his son became his most prized possession, far eclipsing any interest in the expensive pieces for which museums around the world clamored. He told his neighbors his son's painting was the greatest gift he had ever received.
The following spring, the old man became ill and passed away. The art world was in anticipation that with the collector's passing, and his only son dead, those paintings would be sold at auction.
According to the will of the old man, all of the art works would be auctioned on Christmas Day, the day he had received his greatest gift.
The day soon arrived and art collectors from around the world gathered to bid on some of the world's most spectacular paintings. Dreams would be fulfilled this day--greatness would be achieved as many would be able to claim, "I have the greatest collection."
The auction began with a painting that was not on any museum's list. It was the painting of the man's son. The auctioneer asked for an opening bid, but the room was silent. "Who will open the bidding with $100?" he asked.
Minutes passed and no one spoke. Finally, from the back of the room came a voice, "Who cares about that painting? It's just a picture of his son. Let's forget about it and move on to the good stuff." And many voices echoed in agreement.
"No, we have to sell this one first," replied the auctioneer. "Now who will take the painting of the son?" Finally, a neighbor of the old man spoke. "Will you take $10 for the painting? That's really all I have - and since I knew the boy, I'd like to have the painting."
After more silence, the auctioneer said, "I have ten dollars, will anyone go higher?" Then the auctioneer said, "Going once, Going twice, Gone." The gavel fell. Cheers filled the room and someone exclaimed, "Now we can get on with it and we can bid on the real treasures!" The auctioneer looked at the audience and announced that the auction was over.
Stunned disbelief quieted the room. Then someone spoke up and asked, "What do you mean, it's over? We didn't come here to bid on a picture of some old guy's son. What about all of these other paintings? There are millions of dollars worth of art here! I demand that you explain what is going on!" Other voices raised in agreement.
The auctioneer raised his hand and the room quieted. He then replied, "It's very simple. According to the will of the father, whoever takes the son, gets it all."
Years ago, there was a very wealthy man who, with his devoted young son, shared a passion for art collecting. Together they traveled around the world, adding only the finest art treasures to their collection. Priceless works by Picasso, Van Gogh, Monet and many others adorned the walls of the family estate.
The widowed elder man looked on with satisfaction as his only child became an experienced art collector. The son's trained eye and sharp business mind caused his father to beam with pride as they dealt with art collectors around the world.
As winter approached, war engulfed the nation, and the young man left to serve his country. After only a few short weeks, his father received a telegram. His beloved son was missing in action. The art collector anxiously awaited more news, fearing he would never see his son again. Within days, his fears were confirmed, the young man had died while rushing a fellow soldier to a medic.
Distraught and lonely, the old man viewed the upcoming Christmas holidays with anguish and sadness. The joy of the season, that he and his son had so looked forward to, would visit his house no longer.
On Christmas morning a knock on the door awakened the depressed, old man. As he walked to the door, the expensive masterpieces of art on the walls only reminded him that his son was not coming home. As he opened the door, he was greeted by a soldier with a large package in his hands.
He introduced himself to the man by saying, "I was a friend of your son. I was the one he was rescuing when he died. May I come in for a few moments? I have something to show you."
As the old man unwrapped the package, the paper gave way to reveal a portrait of the man's son. Though the world would never consider it the work of a genius, the painting featured the young man's face in striking detail.
Overcome with emotion, he thanked the soldier, promising to hang the picture above the fireplace. A few hours later, after the soldier had departed, the old man set about his task. True to his word, the painting went above the fireplace, pushing aside thousands of dollars worth of art.
His task completed, the old man sat in his chair and spent Christmas gazing at the gift he had been given.
During the days and weeks that followed, the man realized that even though his son was no longer with him, the boy's life would live on because of those he had touched. He would soon learn that his son had rescued dozens of wounded soldiers before a bullet stilled his caring heart. As the stories of his son's gallantry continued to reach him, and fatherly pride and satisfaction began to ease his grief, the painting of his son became his most prized possession, far eclipsing any interest in the expensive pieces for which museums around the world clamored. He told his neighbors his son's painting was the greatest gift he had ever received.
The following spring, the old man became ill and passed away. The art world was in anticipation that with the collector's passing, and his only son dead, those paintings would be sold at auction.
According to the will of the old man, all of the art works would be auctioned on Christmas Day, the day he had received his greatest gift.
The day soon arrived and art collectors from around the world gathered to bid on some of the world's most spectacular paintings. Dreams would be fulfilled this day--greatness would be achieved as many would be able to claim, "I have the greatest collection."
The auction began with a painting that was not on any museum's list. It was the painting of the man's son. The auctioneer asked for an opening bid, but the room was silent. "Who will open the bidding with $100?" he asked.
Minutes passed and no one spoke. Finally, from the back of the room came a voice, "Who cares about that painting? It's just a picture of his son. Let's forget about it and move on to the good stuff." And many voices echoed in agreement.
"No, we have to sell this one first," replied the auctioneer. "Now who will take the painting of the son?" Finally, a neighbor of the old man spoke. "Will you take $10 for the painting? That's really all I have - and since I knew the boy, I'd like to have the painting."
After more silence, the auctioneer said, "I have ten dollars, will anyone go higher?" Then the auctioneer said, "Going once, Going twice, Gone." The gavel fell. Cheers filled the room and someone exclaimed, "Now we can get on with it and we can bid on the real treasures!" The auctioneer looked at the audience and announced that the auction was over.
Stunned disbelief quieted the room. Then someone spoke up and asked, "What do you mean, it's over? We didn't come here to bid on a picture of some old guy's son. What about all of these other paintings? There are millions of dollars worth of art here! I demand that you explain what is going on!" Other voices raised in agreement.
The auctioneer raised his hand and the room quieted. He then replied, "It's very simple. According to the will of the father, whoever takes the son, gets it all."
Friday, March 25, 2005
Inconceivable!
While most Christians are focused on celebrating Easter this week, more than a few plan to attend "conception parties" celebrating the immaculate conception of Jesus. Check out this article, Christian 'Conception' Parties Raise Ire, Eyebrows.
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
We're All Bozos On This Bus
“And here is an odd idea: Were any of us to close ourselves off so our social nourishment came exclusively from these performers, if any of us were to travel with them, it is inevitable that we would become jealous of the more freakish characters. It seems that when a group of people come together, they will develop a kind of hierarchy of importance, and the determining factors of a person’s value are not only unfair but arbitrary. Where you and I might become upset at God over having too great a nose or two hairy a back, these few feel dejection about the normality of their bodies.”
Searching for God Knows What by Donald Miller (Page 174)
Donald Miller is writing here about the social dynamics of a group of circus performers who all have unusual deformities. A bearded lady, a man with crab hands. a guy with a third leg. Within that group jealousies developed because of perceived “advantages” that one person had over another. When the man with three legs began to get more notice – and, as a result, was paid more - the other performers were upset. “Not everybody is lucky enough to get born with three legs,” the bearded woman said. “It’s not like he did anything to deserve that kind of blessing.” All because the crowd gave more notice to one of them over another.
Donald Miller goes on to apply this idea to the real world . . .
“The circus, and I am talking about life now, really sucks. It feels like we all have these little acts, these stupid things we do that we all hang our hats on. The Fall has made monkeys of us, for crying out loud. Some of us are athletes and others of us are physicists, and some of us are good-looking and some of us are rich, and we all are running around, in a way, trying to get a bunch of people to clap for us, trying to get a bunch of people to say we are normal, we are healthy, we are good. And there is nothing wrong with being beautiful or being athletic or being smart, but those are some of the pleasures of life, not life’s redemption.”
Our audience should be Jesus, not the world. It shouldn’t matter whether we are seen as freakish or beautiful, rich or poor, smart or dumb as a brick. Jesus will still clap for us no matter what.
Searching for God Knows What by Donald Miller (Page 174)
Donald Miller is writing here about the social dynamics of a group of circus performers who all have unusual deformities. A bearded lady, a man with crab hands. a guy with a third leg. Within that group jealousies developed because of perceived “advantages” that one person had over another. When the man with three legs began to get more notice – and, as a result, was paid more - the other performers were upset. “Not everybody is lucky enough to get born with three legs,” the bearded woman said. “It’s not like he did anything to deserve that kind of blessing.” All because the crowd gave more notice to one of them over another.
Donald Miller goes on to apply this idea to the real world . . .
“The circus, and I am talking about life now, really sucks. It feels like we all have these little acts, these stupid things we do that we all hang our hats on. The Fall has made monkeys of us, for crying out loud. Some of us are athletes and others of us are physicists, and some of us are good-looking and some of us are rich, and we all are running around, in a way, trying to get a bunch of people to clap for us, trying to get a bunch of people to say we are normal, we are healthy, we are good. And there is nothing wrong with being beautiful or being athletic or being smart, but those are some of the pleasures of life, not life’s redemption.”
Our audience should be Jesus, not the world. It shouldn’t matter whether we are seen as freakish or beautiful, rich or poor, smart or dumb as a brick. Jesus will still clap for us no matter what.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Seven Star Hotel
This is way off the topics I usually post about but check out these pics of the Burj Al Arab Hotel in Dubai. This place is just too dang spectacular.
Even More Left Behind
I don't know about you but the unreal popularity of the Left Behind Series scares me a little. It always bugs the crap out of me to hear someone project his own interpretations on passages of scripture that are more than just a little obscure. It's not that I don't believe Jesus will return someday, I'm just not sure that it will be at all like that weaselly Tim Lahaye describes it. Nevertheless, now the fine folks at NBC are getting in on the act. Check out this New York Times article titled Apocalypse Now, and for the Next Five Weeks. And, if you want to see a promo of the show, check out this link from NBC's website. But what the heck, I'll probably still TiVo the darn thing . . .
Big Guy to Fitty Via Head
Ever since leaving Korn to focus on his relationship with Jesus, Brian 'Head' Welch has been in the news quite a bit. According to MTV News, "now he's turning his attention to saving souls and his first target is to Save 50 Cent.
Monday, March 21, 2005
Scent of a Messiah
Here's an idea whose time has definitely not come. Check out the story about the couple who sells candles that smell like Jesus. That's right. Smell like Jesus. Sheesh!
Tuesday, March 8, 2005
Idiots for Jesus
You gotta love the Red Sox! Has there been a better sports story in recent years (or in your lifetime) than their march to the World Series last year? And what role did God play in the whole thing? Kevin Thomas, a sportswriter for the Portland Press Herald, has written a great article that puts the role of faith in the lives of athletes into perspective. Check out Sox credit faith for inner strength
Saturday, March 5, 2005
God's a Metallica Fan!
Here's a story about a pastor who knows how to communicate to his congregation right where they live. Ron Vanderwell, pastor of The Gathering in Sacramento, CA, provided earplugs to go along with his sermon last Sunday. "Pastor Ron Vanderwell of The Gathering was ready Sunday with earplugs and a message from Metallica.
The article in the February 28th Sacramento Bee says "Vanderwell posed as thought-provoking lyrics: 'Broken is the promise, betrayal/ The healing hand held back by the deepened nail/ Follow the God that failed.'"
And why does Pastor Vanderwell believe this is the right type of sermon for his church? "This is what happens when kids are too old for the Vienna Boys Choir."
The article in the February 28th Sacramento Bee says "Vanderwell posed as thought-provoking lyrics: 'Broken is the promise, betrayal/ The healing hand held back by the deepened nail/ Follow the God that failed.'"
And why does Pastor Vanderwell believe this is the right type of sermon for his church? "This is what happens when kids are too old for the Vienna Boys Choir."
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