And so it begins again. Another opening day – barring rain – for my beloved Philadelphia Phillies. The routine in my brain is the same as it’s been this time every year since I can remember. . . . 1964 to be exact. That’s my earliest memory of consciously engaging with the Phils as a fan. I was a measly seven-years-old. We were locked in the Cold War. I started collecting baseball cards, none of which can be found anywhere. That was the year Jim Bunning pitched a perfect game on Father’s Day at Shea against the Mets.
Later that summer, my dad took me to Connie Mack Stadium for my first-ever trip to a real live game. I will never, ever forget seeing the greenest grass I had ever seen in my life. The red of the Phillies’ uniforms and the Dodger blue of the visiting team was breathtaking. The sounds (Charley Frank selling hot dogs – “dogeo!”, the snap of the ball on leather, the crack of the bats, etc), the smells (a strange combination of cigar smoke, watered-down beer, and hot dogs. . . can that be bottled in a cologne?), all of it. . . . amazing.
I still have my 1964 yearbook tucked away. On my desk sits the Phillies bobblehead I bought that year, which is, by the way, made of something other than plastic. . . but I’m not sure what. To top it all off, my favorite player – right fielder Johnny Callison won the 1964 all-star game with a home run blast. I watched that happen live while we were on vacation in Florida. I remember it like it was yesterday. Of course, it all came crashing down later that fall when the Phillies blew it all in what was to become known – until last year – as the greatest collapse in baseball history. The Cardinals went to and won our World Series.
I’ve yet to figure out what it is that I love so much about baseball. I’ve played, watched, and coached. I’ve lived (once) and died (too many times to count) with my beloved Phillies. Maybe it’s because baseball is a lot like grace. You screw up. Things don’t go as you planned. You lose quite a bit. You’re successful at the plate if you hit the ball three out of ten at bats. But the loyal fans keep coming back and cheering you on. You receive grace. You show grace. . . yes, even in Philly! You get wiped off and you start over. It isn’t the best analogy, but it’s what comes to mind as we start another season.
So this year I hope again. I look at the Phillies’ lineup and I like what I see. Sure, I’m missing Aaron Rowand but I think my memory of him will fade fast as speedy Shane Victorino gets his shot in center field. At three-o’clock this afternoon another season begins. I’ve got high hopes. To celebrate, I’ve picked up a copy of our friend Dick Doster’s new baseball novel, Safe at Home. I’ll start reading tonight, hopefully, with a smile on my face as my Phils will still be undefeated.
Just to prove how crazy the world is about baseball, I’ve posted a video that my seven-year-old Cold-War era self would have never thought possible: Russians – that’s right, Russians – in the stands singing “Take Me Out To The Ballgame.” Yes, the impossible does happen from time to time. That’s why I can say today with confidence, the Phillies are going all the way this year!
Monday, March 31, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
Poll Results
It looks like most of us think UNC will win the tournament (and by the way they are playing, they have an awesome chance). Sucks to be whoever picked Duke...
This weeks poll will be for the ladies. Concerning attractive men. Who is the sexiest man alive?
Brad Pitt:
George Clooney:
Matt Damon:
Darth Vader:
Josh Croyle:
I decided not to put one of my more embarrassing pictures up, only because everyone has seen them and threw up all too often...
This weeks poll will be for the ladies. Concerning attractive men. Who is the sexiest man alive?
Brad Pitt:
George Clooney:
Matt Damon:
Darth Vader:
Josh Croyle:
I decided not to put one of my more embarrassing pictures up, only because everyone has seen them and threw up all too often...
10,000 B.C.
I recently saw the
The plot is pretty much the same as Pathfinder, a guy must rise up to become the warrior of destiny in order to save his tribe from invaders who are eons more advanced (they have horses) and come from a land far away.
Many sites have pointed out the ridiculous errors of the movie, and I do not want to seem like I wanted this to be a documentary, but some accuracy would be nice. American's quickly became one of the dumbest peoples in the world and now this movie will just help push that statistic even higher (or lower)...
The point in the movie where I truly got annoyed (I bared with domesticated horses and even the metal tools) happened when they reached Egypt and the pyramids were being built, and with the help of domesticated mastodons. The Egyptians (not aliens, not Atlanteans)built the first one around 2700 BCE. Mammoths and mastodons were extinct by then and were never used for domestication.
Here is a list of things that were not around at that point: swords, metal-working, pyramids, large cities, domesticated horses, large birds that could attack them (those were in South America), domesticated mastodons, stirrups, agriculture, large sailboats...I could keep going on, but it will be fun to see if you guys can name any as well.
I do not get too bent out of shape about the whole ending, where the North African (I have to assume that is where the individual is from, the geography of this movie made absolutely no sense) gives our hero some beans and corn to plant, thus teaching the people agriculture. Problem with this, corn comes from the Americas, and neither of these were being cultivated at this time. Hell agriculture around 10,000 B.C. probably involved seeing some wild food that they could eat, and trying to protect/nurture it in order to constantly eat from it. After awhile, they noticed how they could control the plants and eventually were able to settle down. This took years, not just one growing season.
There was one bright spot in the movie: Camilla Belle. Absolutely hot and she has the same birthday as me (October 2nd).
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Lost: Episode 408
This was an okay episode. Definitely glad they did not choose this to be the season finale though, which I guess was originally talked about. We learned a little bit about what Michael is doing on the freighter, but unfortunately we continue to get contrasting information, so we are left wondering, who to trust...
Tom (who knew that tough bastard was gay) tells Michael that Widmore faked the wreckage of 815 and plans to find the Island and kill everyone. Michael told Walt about shooting Ana Lucia and Libby, which obviously made Walt very proud. So proud in fact that Michael is now depressed and on the verge of suicide. Apparently the Island will not let Michael kill himself, no matter how hard he tries. Tom gets Michael a job as a deckhand on the freighter and tells him to kill everyone on board. Michael goes to use the bomb, but it turns out to be a fake.
Michael receives a call from Ben. He explains that the bomb was a fake because Ben wants to prove to Michael that he is not a monster. Ben does not want the innocent crew members dead. He wants a list of everyone on board.
After Michael finishes his little story with Sayid and Desmond, Sayid grabs him and takes him to Captain Gault. Sayid explains who Michael is and that he is also a traitor.
Back on the island, Ben tells Alex, Rousseau, and Karl to head to the Temple because he wants Alex to be safe. During a quick rest stop Karl takes a bullet and dies. Rousseau and Alex attempt to flee, but Rousseau also gets shot. Alex surrenders and yells that she is Ben's daughter.
Who shot them? Ben's people (perhaps Richard...) or Widmore's crew. Who really cares about those two? Other than the fact that it provides me a chance to put up a picture Tania Raymonde...
I truly believe the people on the freighter are the bad guys, but that does not really make Ben a good guy.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Suffering is necessary. . .
Dave Matthews is still looking. While it’s heartbreaking for those who have been embraced by the One he is seeking to look into Matthews’ search for redemption through the window of his music, it’s a window that offers glimpses of the truth.
I began my own celebration of Good Friday watching Matthews’ “Gravedigger” once more. It’s a haunting reminder of how the fall has touched us all. We experience the results of our rebellion against the Creator – yes, even the redeemed - through the multi-faceted curse of brokenness, pain, heartache, the sufferings of life, and at the end of this life. . . through physical death. Matthews obsesses about death in his music. Much of his own suffering has come through the death of people close to him, and he questions the when’s, what’s, why’s, and how’s of his own certain demise. “Gravedigger” is one of the most poignant expressions of these universal realities I’ve ever seen in the world of popular music.
I saw an expression of the same gnawing truth a few years ago on a visit to a very dark place. A young man who had recently come to faith wanted to introduce me to some friends who were spinning their wheels in the black hole of depression and spiritual death. The
y “ministered” to themselves and each other through chemically-induced mutual escape. Their house was literally dark. It was the middle of the day but the shades were down. Their lives were even darker. It was one of the strangest and most disturbing encounters I’ve ever had. During the course of our conversation, my young friend asked one of his peers to show me the piece of art he had been working on for quite some time. The work in progress showed a sad clown. The young artist explained that he was the clown. All the stuff he pulled behind him was “my baggage.” There in the baggage was the acronym “S.I.N.” I asked what it meant. He replied with a tone of nihilistic pessimissm, “suffering is necessary.”
Last week I ran into an acquaintance who has experienced more than what we humans call a “fair share” of suffering. This time he was walking hard as part of an exercise program designed to slow the effects of a debilitating disease that he’s been told should have had him in a wheelchair by now. His outlook was positive and he’s working to plow through the physical and mental anguish that are so much a part of his life. It didn’t start for him with the disease. The loss of two very young children years ago is something he’s still carrying. We talked briefly about his suffering, the resulting questions, and his efforts to figure out God. This man is still seeking. From a human perspective, it seemed to me like he’s close. I listened. He talked about how suffering, death, and disease have brought him to where he’s at. Retirement came early, very early, out of necessity. He looked at me and said, “If I didn’t have to get outside to walk, or sit alone in my recliner for hours on end, I don’t think I’d be taking the time to ask the questions I’m asking or to learn what I’m learning about life.” His suffering is taking him to where he needs to be.
Three of the books I’ve been reading are serving to crystallize my growing understanding of suffering. In many ways, they’ve been timely reminders and even corrective. My childhood Sunday School years were filled with songs and stories that somehow combined to leave me thinking that coming to Jesus was coming to peace, joy, happiness, and a life void of hurt or pain. Somehow those things eclipsed the fact that Jesus never said “Follow me and be happy,” but “take up your cross and follow me.” Or, that most of the Old Testament stories are about God’s faithfulness in the midst of deep human pain and suffering. Or, that much of the New Testament was written to correct errors and divisions that were at the root of much relational brokenness and suffering.
Tim Keller’s amazing new book, The Reason for God, addresses doubt, including the doubt that is driven by the question, “How could a good and loving God allow people to suffer?” Keller offers compelling explanations and arguments too numerous to explain here. But listen to these words that are especially timely on Good Friday: “If we again ask the question: ‘Why does God allow evil and suffering to continue?’ and we look at the cross of Jesus, we still do not know what the answer is. However, we now know what the answer isn’t. It can’t be that he doesn’t love us. It can’t be that he is indifferent or detached from our condition. God takes our misery and suffering so seriously that he was willing to take it on himself. . . . So, if we embrace the Christian teaching that Jesus is God and that he went to the cross, then we have deep consolation and strength to face the brutal realities of life on earth. We can know that God is truly Immanuel – God with us – even in our worst sufferings.” Keller goes on to describe how Jesus suffered for us and with us. And, how it is through suffering that growth comes.
In his book Depression: A Stubborn Darkness, Ed Welch says that “depression is painful. It is a form of suffering.” Welch reminds readers that almost every page of scripture offers insights, direction, and encouragement about suffering, including the fact that suffering serves a purpose in our sovereign God’s grand scheme and design to bring us into conformity to His image. What does James 1:2-4 have to say about depression and suffering? – “Consider it pure joy my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” Welch goes on to say that since James speaks of trials of many kinds, he is “inviting those who experience depression to learn that, whatever the cause, depression will reveal our faith and serve as a catalyst for growth rather than a reason for despair.”
Then there’s Michael Card’s wonderful book – A Sacred Sorrow - on recovering and using the lost language of lament as we reach out to God. Card says that throughout the Scriptures, true worship always begins in the wilderness. “Praise is almost always the answer to a plea that arises in the desert.” “There can be no worshipful joy of salvation until we have realized the lamentable wilderness of what we were saved from, until we begin to understand just what it cost Jesus to come and find us and be that perfect provision in the wilderness.” Card takes readers through the lamentable life and experience of Job, showing how suffering is necessary – “Without the pain, Job might have never realized either the depth nor the dimension of this kind of relationship with God, and perhaps never would we.”
On this day that we remember the divine suffering that gives us life, perhaps we should not only offer our thanks to God for the suffering of His Son and for what it has accomplished in our lives. In addition, we should thank God for the sufferings of life that take us deeper in our faith and knowledge of Him. Perhaps we should pray as the Puritans did, “O, thou Father of my spirit, thou King of my life, cast me not into destruction, drive me not from thy presence, but wound my heart that it may be healed; break it that thine own hand may make it whole.”
The amateur artist who lived in the dark got it right – suffering is necessary. How has God used suffering in your life?
I began my own celebration of Good Friday watching Matthews’ “Gravedigger” once more. It’s a haunting reminder of how the fall has touched us all. We experience the results of our rebellion against the Creator – yes, even the redeemed - through the multi-faceted curse of brokenness, pain, heartache, the sufferings of life, and at the end of this life. . . through physical death. Matthews obsesses about death in his music. Much of his own suffering has come through the death of people close to him, and he questions the when’s, what’s, why’s, and how’s of his own certain demise. “Gravedigger” is one of the most poignant expressions of these universal realities I’ve ever seen in the world of popular music.
I saw an expression of the same gnawing truth a few years ago on a visit to a very dark place. A young man who had recently come to faith wanted to introduce me to some friends who were spinning their wheels in the black hole of depression and spiritual death. The
y “ministered” to themselves and each other through chemically-induced mutual escape. Their house was literally dark. It was the middle of the day but the shades were down. Their lives were even darker. It was one of the strangest and most disturbing encounters I’ve ever had. During the course of our conversation, my young friend asked one of his peers to show me the piece of art he had been working on for quite some time. The work in progress showed a sad clown. The young artist explained that he was the clown. All the stuff he pulled behind him was “my baggage.” There in the baggage was the acronym “S.I.N.” I asked what it meant. He replied with a tone of nihilistic pessimissm, “suffering is necessary.”Last week I ran into an acquaintance who has experienced more than what we humans call a “fair share” of suffering. This time he was walking hard as part of an exercise program designed to slow the effects of a debilitating disease that he’s been told should have had him in a wheelchair by now. His outlook was positive and he’s working to plow through the physical and mental anguish that are so much a part of his life. It didn’t start for him with the disease. The loss of two very young children years ago is something he’s still carrying. We talked briefly about his suffering, the resulting questions, and his efforts to figure out God. This man is still seeking. From a human perspective, it seemed to me like he’s close. I listened. He talked about how suffering, death, and disease have brought him to where he’s at. Retirement came early, very early, out of necessity. He looked at me and said, “If I didn’t have to get outside to walk, or sit alone in my recliner for hours on end, I don’t think I’d be taking the time to ask the questions I’m asking or to learn what I’m learning about life.” His suffering is taking him to where he needs to be.
Three of the books I’ve been reading are serving to crystallize my growing understanding of suffering. In many ways, they’ve been timely reminders and even corrective. My childhood Sunday School years were filled with songs and stories that somehow combined to leave me thinking that coming to Jesus was coming to peace, joy, happiness, and a life void of hurt or pain. Somehow those things eclipsed the fact that Jesus never said “Follow me and be happy,” but “take up your cross and follow me.” Or, that most of the Old Testament stories are about God’s faithfulness in the midst of deep human pain and suffering. Or, that much of the New Testament was written to correct errors and divisions that were at the root of much relational brokenness and suffering.
Tim Keller’s amazing new book, The Reason for God, addresses doubt, including the doubt that is driven by the question, “How could a good and loving God allow people to suffer?” Keller offers compelling explanations and arguments too numerous to explain here. But listen to these words that are especially timely on Good Friday: “If we again ask the question: ‘Why does God allow evil and suffering to continue?’ and we look at the cross of Jesus, we still do not know what the answer is. However, we now know what the answer isn’t. It can’t be that he doesn’t love us. It can’t be that he is indifferent or detached from our condition. God takes our misery and suffering so seriously that he was willing to take it on himself. . . . So, if we embrace the Christian teaching that Jesus is God and that he went to the cross, then we have deep consolation and strength to face the brutal realities of life on earth. We can know that God is truly Immanuel – God with us – even in our worst sufferings.” Keller goes on to describe how Jesus suffered for us and with us. And, how it is through suffering that growth comes.
In his book Depression: A Stubborn Darkness, Ed Welch says that “depression is painful. It is a form of suffering.” Welch reminds readers that almost every page of scripture offers insights, direction, and encouragement about suffering, including the fact that suffering serves a purpose in our sovereign God’s grand scheme and design to bring us into conformity to His image. What does James 1:2-4 have to say about depression and suffering? – “Consider it pure joy my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” Welch goes on to say that since James speaks of trials of many kinds, he is “inviting those who experience depression to learn that, whatever the cause, depression will reveal our faith and serve as a catalyst for growth rather than a reason for despair.”
Then there’s Michael Card’s wonderful book – A Sacred Sorrow - on recovering and using the lost language of lament as we reach out to God. Card says that throughout the Scriptures, true worship always begins in the wilderness. “Praise is almost always the answer to a plea that arises in the desert.” “There can be no worshipful joy of salvation until we have realized the lamentable wilderness of what we were saved from, until we begin to understand just what it cost Jesus to come and find us and be that perfect provision in the wilderness.” Card takes readers through the lamentable life and experience of Job, showing how suffering is necessary – “Without the pain, Job might have never realized either the depth nor the dimension of this kind of relationship with God, and perhaps never would we.”
On this day that we remember the divine suffering that gives us life, perhaps we should not only offer our thanks to God for the suffering of His Son and for what it has accomplished in our lives. In addition, we should thank God for the sufferings of life that take us deeper in our faith and knowledge of Him. Perhaps we should pray as the Puritans did, “O, thou Father of my spirit, thou King of my life, cast me not into destruction, drive me not from thy presence, but wound my heart that it may be healed; break it that thine own hand may make it whole.”
The amateur artist who lived in the dark got it right – suffering is necessary. How has God used suffering in your life?
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Interesting story and song. . . .
I'm always looking out for the positive signs of life in media culture. Having spent my high school and college years in the seventies, The Eagles were always on my musical radar. I wore out my vinyl copies of Hotel California and their first Greatest Hits album. The band is still making music. I rediscovered them a couple of weeks ago while scrolling through the personal media player attached to my seat on a cross-country Delta flight. I listened to their new album, Long Road Out of Eden, and really liked what I heard. Last night I jumped onto YouTube to see if there were any videos from the album online. Then, I stumbled across this video of the band featuring guitarist Joe Walsh - a real character who now looks a little bit like Danny Bonaduce - and was drawn into the story Walsh tells in the song. I remember Walsh when he didn't know what was going on around him. Give his song "One Day at a Time" a look and listen. It's one of those signs of life.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Bleacher Theology. . . .
Last Saturday - as I’ve done on numerous spring Saturdays for the last nine years - I attended one of my son’s lacrosse games. This year it’s somewhat bitter sweet as we’re counting down the number of games left in his career. He’s a college senior. Once that final whistle blows sometime in May, it’s over. It’s been fun to watch. Not only is his organized lacrosse career over, but practices and games too numerous to count from a variety of other organized sports. . . . well, that’s all coming to an end as well. He started all this stuff when he was five-years-old with that incredibly boring and slow-moving phenomenon known as “T-Ball.” It is, however, anything but boring and slow-moving when you’re chuckling at your own kids out there on the field.
Last Saturday’s game afforded a great opportunity to sit on the sidelines and catch some perspective. I’m not sure I would have gone too deep in my thoughts had it not been for the pleasant surprise of seeing my old friend Ron in the stands. I’ve known Ron for over 25 years. Even though we live fairly close to each other, I haven’t seen him for a few years. Ron was at the game to see his nephew play for the opposing team. Ron’s played and watched his fair share of games over the years. I remember watching Ron play football on TV when we were both in college. I didn’t know him personally at the time. He was busy playing linebacker for Joe Paterno. Not surprising. He grew up on a farm in a family of seven kids. All were stellar multi-sport athletes. It could have been something in the water those kids drank on the farm. Most went on to be scholarship athletes in college. One of Ron’s brothers quarterbacked his NFL team to a Super Bowl championship.
Ron and his siblings all married athletes. Like some sort of Russian Cold-War era athlete factory, all of the couples have given birth to kids who all happen to be, you guessed it, athletes. In fact, the next generation of Ron’s family is so incredibly talented, that Sports Illustrated ran a story on them last year. I think all of them have gone on – like their parents – to be college athletes. Sometimes it seems like life isn’t fair doesn't it? . . . All I want to do is be able to dunk a basketball. . . just once. Never gonna happen though. It’s not in the genes. I'll bet Ron's mother was able to dunk a few in her time. Not fair.
So Ron and I are catching up on life in the stands. We talk about our wives, our kids, and what’s been going on in our lives since the last time we saw each other. Then, we talk about how God has graciously – through both His Word and the circumstances of life – taught us lessons about what really matters. Knowing how easy it is to lose perspective and to make the mistake of seeking identity in our own play or the play of our kids, our conversation turns to processing what’s happening on the field through the eyes of God’s Word. We talk about how athletics are a great and wonderful gift as we sit and watch a group of guys run up and down the field giving glory to their Creator as they play. Some of the players are out there doing it intentionally. Others don’t give a thought to their Creator. . . but their athleticism, agility, and joy all point back to the One who made them. . . even if they have no clue.
As I climb down out of the bleachers and walk away from my conversation with Ron, I rehash our exchange and the perspective it brought. Our identity can only be found in Christ alone. Not in our talents or play, or in the talents or play of others. We should enjoy those things, but only as we ultimately find our identity in Christ. Anything else is idolatry. I realize as I watch my 21-year-old son out there that life is like the grass of the field. It pops up and goes by so incredibly fast. Just yesterday he was struggling to hit that ball off a tee. Where did the time go? And, I realize that when all is said and done, it’s not the score or accolades that matter. Rather, it’s what you’ve allowed God to teach you through your experiences and circumstances, the highs and the lows – both on and off the field - that’s most important. And, that the “whatever” it is that you do is given to God as an offering of praise. I love how Eugene Peterson translates it in The Message: “So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life – your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life – and place it before God as an offering” (Romans 12:1).
One other thought. . . . when it comes to church-league sports, why do we find this so hard to remember?
Last Saturday’s game afforded a great opportunity to sit on the sidelines and catch some perspective. I’m not sure I would have gone too deep in my thoughts had it not been for the pleasant surprise of seeing my old friend Ron in the stands. I’ve known Ron for over 25 years. Even though we live fairly close to each other, I haven’t seen him for a few years. Ron was at the game to see his nephew play for the opposing team. Ron’s played and watched his fair share of games over the years. I remember watching Ron play football on TV when we were both in college. I didn’t know him personally at the time. He was busy playing linebacker for Joe Paterno. Not surprising. He grew up on a farm in a family of seven kids. All were stellar multi-sport athletes. It could have been something in the water those kids drank on the farm. Most went on to be scholarship athletes in college. One of Ron’s brothers quarterbacked his NFL team to a Super Bowl championship.
Ron and his siblings all married athletes. Like some sort of Russian Cold-War era athlete factory, all of the couples have given birth to kids who all happen to be, you guessed it, athletes. In fact, the next generation of Ron’s family is so incredibly talented, that Sports Illustrated ran a story on them last year. I think all of them have gone on – like their parents – to be college athletes. Sometimes it seems like life isn’t fair doesn't it? . . . All I want to do is be able to dunk a basketball. . . just once. Never gonna happen though. It’s not in the genes. I'll bet Ron's mother was able to dunk a few in her time. Not fair.
So Ron and I are catching up on life in the stands. We talk about our wives, our kids, and what’s been going on in our lives since the last time we saw each other. Then, we talk about how God has graciously – through both His Word and the circumstances of life – taught us lessons about what really matters. Knowing how easy it is to lose perspective and to make the mistake of seeking identity in our own play or the play of our kids, our conversation turns to processing what’s happening on the field through the eyes of God’s Word. We talk about how athletics are a great and wonderful gift as we sit and watch a group of guys run up and down the field giving glory to their Creator as they play. Some of the players are out there doing it intentionally. Others don’t give a thought to their Creator. . . but their athleticism, agility, and joy all point back to the One who made them. . . even if they have no clue.
As I climb down out of the bleachers and walk away from my conversation with Ron, I rehash our exchange and the perspective it brought. Our identity can only be found in Christ alone. Not in our talents or play, or in the talents or play of others. We should enjoy those things, but only as we ultimately find our identity in Christ. Anything else is idolatry. I realize as I watch my 21-year-old son out there that life is like the grass of the field. It pops up and goes by so incredibly fast. Just yesterday he was struggling to hit that ball off a tee. Where did the time go? And, I realize that when all is said and done, it’s not the score or accolades that matter. Rather, it’s what you’ve allowed God to teach you through your experiences and circumstances, the highs and the lows – both on and off the field - that’s most important. And, that the “whatever” it is that you do is given to God as an offering of praise. I love how Eugene Peterson translates it in The Message: “So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life – your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life – and place it before God as an offering” (Romans 12:1).
One other thought. . . . when it comes to church-league sports, why do we find this so hard to remember?
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Poll Results & March Madness Picks
Well this poll had to do with the Pirates. You guys seem to think the Beloved Bucs will not be .500, but not nearly as bad as I predict. Well, I am tired of being overly optimistic each season and then being let down by season's end, err I mean, May.
Who will win March Madness this year?
Anyways, let us all get into the fun and play against one another. At espn.com you can join my bracket, Ngewosworld and the password is josh.
Who will win March Madness this year?
Anyways, let us all get into the fun and play against one another. At espn.com you can join my bracket, Ngewosworld and the password is josh.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Mugshots Crazyness
Some of you have asked why I love to go to Mugshots here in Crafton. There are usually more people up at Primanti Brothers, or I could go to the Ugly Dog up in Green Tree, but the reality is none of those places have the sheer entertainment Mugshots gives me, night in and night out.
Aside from three of the best looking bartenders in the universe (yes, I have been to many bars in the Vega System, gotta problem with that?), Mugshots also offers some of the craziest people you will meet if you take the time to do a little people watching, which is one of my favorite games to play at the bar.
RastaBoy
His name is Rich, I think. First time I met him, I sit down by my friend Steve (who looks at me and says, "Just to warn you, this guy is going to ask you if you want to smoke with him.") I barely had my jacket off and Rich leans over and says "Hey man, wanna go outside and burn one with me?" I laugh, and tell him no that I do not do drugs.
Now, do not be fooled by his name, RastaBoy. He is an older gentleman, mid 50s if I am not mistaken. He has tipped the bartender with a joint before. He definescool creepy.
Anyways, one night he decides to play like 25 Bob Marley songs. After awhile my threshold for Rastafarian music only goes so far. I decide to be a dick. I look at Rich and say "did you play this shit? I hate this music." He tells me how Rastafarianism is all about love, man and all that other stupid, hippy bullshit. So, I take it a step farther. "My brother was Rasta. He moved down to Jamaica and was eventually stabbed in the chest by one of his Rasta friends. I had to fly down there and identify the body and go to the trial."
Rich tries to argue that no Rastafarian would do that, but I just keep hammering it home. To the point that everyone is listening and pretty much laughing, and I just keep pumping out the lies. The high point was me looking at Steve and saying "Dude, I gotta go to the bathroom, I'm about ready to cry."
Rich later tells me he really is not a Rastafarian and that he is actually an existentialist, which I then proceed to laugh at. Every time I see him, he gives me this odd look (mainly because he is high and cannot remember our conversation), or that he feels bad about my dead brother. Anytime he plays one Bob Marley song, I usually say something, and he apologizes and then switches to classic rock.
I should point out for some of you who do not know me well enough, my brother is not a Rastafarian, and he is alive and well without any knife wounds in his chest.
Squirrel
The Squirrel. I do not know how to begin to describe this man/beast. Steve and I named him the Squirrel because of his look and his mannerisms. He has white hair and it is really fluffy and a mustache. When he takes a drink of his bottle of beer, he cocks his head to the side, quickly draws the bottle to his lips and takes a quick swig, then slamming the bottle on the bar. I almost feel like I should video this on my phone and post it on here, unfortunately I have tried to post a video of myself, and I cannot hold my camera still enough...
He constantly looks around the room from side to side, exactly as a squirrel does when it's eating some nuts. Aside from the obvious physical comedy, the man is hysterical when telling stories. He likes to talk about his 'Nam days and how the Marines trained him to be a killer. The Marines taught him Tai Kwon Do. He showed Steve his powerful side kick the other night, he got his leg up almost 2 feet! And he actually yelled "HYUH" while doing it.
He talks about how he gets into fights and when the fight is over, he disappears, because he "ain't goin' ta jail." He and another guy also like to list bands from the 70s. They do not debate, nor do they discuss these bands, they just list them. Squirrel also likes to wear a jean jacket and carry a garbage bag, which has another bag inside of it, who knows what that second bag contains.
The Rapist
This kid, Adam, looks like someone who would drop some GHB into a girl's drink. GHB is the date rape drug, right? Usually when I go into Mugshots, I am wearing my work attire, the tie comes off, the shirt untucked...Adam likes to dress up every time he comes out.
He comes up to me one night and asks how much my shoes cost and where I purchased them. I tell him they come from Target and cost like $15. He laughs at me and goes on to explain how his cost $200 and when he walks you can hear them snap. I point out that mine have mashed potatoes on them.
The funny thing about Adam, aside from the way girls make fun of him and will not let him by them shots, is that when he comes in, 99% of the time he is absolutely wrecked. One night he sat there reaching for his drink, like 10 times, just kept pawing at the air. The reason he could not reach his drink? He did not have one; Kara would not serve him one. His eyes are never focused right, and he always seems a step away from a trip to the ER.
Other Oddballs
These are just some other random folks I have seen in there who make me laugh.
-The Mexican-this guy looked like he just swam across the Rio to get to America. His pants tore up, a cut-off shirt, and one glove with the finger tips cut off. He kept asking Kara out or for her phone number. She kept saying she has a boyfriend and then he asks if he can take her home. She says no that she has her own car, and he responds, "I have a car." I do not understand if that was supposed to wow her or something, I mean one glove and a car??? How could she ever say no?
-80s Hockey Playa-he has the mullet and the look to belong on any 1980s hockey team. Usually he just sits andhits on strikes out with Lisa. He never seems to understand that she is making fun of him, which makes me laugh for many hours. He also loves to talk about his days of high school football while watching any pro game. Likes everyone to think that he is as good as those players.
-DrunkenTolkien-This weirdo wrote a book. He wanted Anastasia to read it. From what I understand, the book is one big run-on sentence. It's heavily lifted from Lord of the Rings and has something to do with time travel. I listened to him explain it one day, and apparently all three books are set on the same day, but at different time periods 10,000 years apart. He always talks about how he is very close to getting it published by a major publishing house. Right because what all the big publishers want is another carbon copy of Tolkien who cannot write nor does he know any kind of grammar and just wants to keep typing...ugh, just writing without commas and periods makes my brain hurt.
-The Racists-These come in all shapes and colors. I have had random white dudes look at me and tell me how much they hate black people. I usually pretend to be deaf at that point. Even if you are a racist bastard, how can you just look at a complete stranger and let them know that? What if I was half black and carrying a gun?
The other part of the racist equation at Mugshots: Jim and his friend. Two black guys, who love to talk about how stupid white people are. They have no problem generalizing all white people as stupid, inbred, illiterate, homosexuals. I do not think I fall into any of those groups. Well maybe inbred, I am from central PA. Just kidding, central PA is not that bad...
Anyways, I hope you understand why Mugshots draws me in after work. The people listed above make me realize that my life is actually very good.
Aside from three of the best looking bartenders in the universe (yes, I have been to many bars in the Vega System, gotta problem with that?), Mugshots also offers some of the craziest people you will meet if you take the time to do a little people watching, which is one of my favorite games to play at the bar.
RastaBoy
His name is Rich, I think. First time I met him, I sit down by my friend Steve (who looks at me and says, "Just to warn you, this guy is going to ask you if you want to smoke with him.") I barely had my jacket off and Rich leans over and says "Hey man, wanna go outside and burn one with me?" I laugh, and tell him no that I do not do drugs.
Now, do not be fooled by his name, RastaBoy. He is an older gentleman, mid 50s if I am not mistaken. He has tipped the bartender with a joint before. He defines
Anyways, one night he decides to play like 25 Bob Marley songs. After awhile my threshold for Rastafarian music only goes so far. I decide to be a dick. I look at Rich and say "did you play this shit? I hate this music." He tells me how Rastafarianism is all about love, man and all that other stupid, hippy bullshit. So, I take it a step farther. "My brother was Rasta. He moved down to Jamaica and was eventually stabbed in the chest by one of his Rasta friends. I had to fly down there and identify the body and go to the trial."
Rich tries to argue that no Rastafarian would do that, but I just keep hammering it home. To the point that everyone is listening and pretty much laughing, and I just keep pumping out the lies. The high point was me looking at Steve and saying "Dude, I gotta go to the bathroom, I'm about ready to cry."
Rich later tells me he really is not a Rastafarian and that he is actually an existentialist, which I then proceed to laugh at. Every time I see him, he gives me this odd look (mainly because he is high and cannot remember our conversation), or that he feels bad about my dead brother. Anytime he plays one Bob Marley song, I usually say something, and he apologizes and then switches to classic rock.
I should point out for some of you who do not know me well enough, my brother is not a Rastafarian, and he is alive and well without any knife wounds in his chest.
Squirrel
The Squirrel. I do not know how to begin to describe this man/beast. Steve and I named him the Squirrel because of his look and his mannerisms. He has white hair and it is really fluffy and a mustache. When he takes a drink of his bottle of beer, he cocks his head to the side, quickly draws the bottle to his lips and takes a quick swig, then slamming the bottle on the bar. I almost feel like I should video this on my phone and post it on here, unfortunately I have tried to post a video of myself, and I cannot hold my camera still enough...
He constantly looks around the room from side to side, exactly as a squirrel does when it's eating some nuts. Aside from the obvious physical comedy, the man is hysterical when telling stories. He likes to talk about his 'Nam days and how the Marines trained him to be a killer. The Marines taught him Tai Kwon Do. He showed Steve his powerful side kick the other night, he got his leg up almost 2 feet! And he actually yelled "HYUH" while doing it.
He talks about how he gets into fights and when the fight is over, he disappears, because he "ain't goin' ta jail." He and another guy also like to list bands from the 70s. They do not debate, nor do they discuss these bands, they just list them. Squirrel also likes to wear a jean jacket and carry a garbage bag, which has another bag inside of it, who knows what that second bag contains.
The Rapist
This kid, Adam, looks like someone who would drop some GHB into a girl's drink. GHB is the date rape drug, right? Usually when I go into Mugshots, I am wearing my work attire, the tie comes off, the shirt untucked...Adam likes to dress up every time he comes out.
He comes up to me one night and asks how much my shoes cost and where I purchased them. I tell him they come from Target and cost like $15. He laughs at me and goes on to explain how his cost $200 and when he walks you can hear them snap. I point out that mine have mashed potatoes on them.
The funny thing about Adam, aside from the way girls make fun of him and will not let him by them shots, is that when he comes in, 99% of the time he is absolutely wrecked. One night he sat there reaching for his drink, like 10 times, just kept pawing at the air. The reason he could not reach his drink? He did not have one; Kara would not serve him one. His eyes are never focused right, and he always seems a step away from a trip to the ER.
Other Oddballs
These are just some other random folks I have seen in there who make me laugh.
-The Mexican-this guy looked like he just swam across the Rio to get to America. His pants tore up, a cut-off shirt, and one glove with the finger tips cut off. He kept asking Kara out or for her phone number. She kept saying she has a boyfriend and then he asks if he can take her home. She says no that she has her own car, and he responds, "I have a car." I do not understand if that was supposed to wow her or something, I mean one glove and a car??? How could she ever say no?
-80s Hockey Playa-he has the mullet and the look to belong on any 1980s hockey team. Usually he just sits and
-DrunkenTolkien-This weirdo wrote a book. He wanted Anastasia to read it. From what I understand, the book is one big run-on sentence. It's heavily lifted from Lord of the Rings and has something to do with time travel. I listened to him explain it one day, and apparently all three books are set on the same day, but at different time periods 10,000 years apart. He always talks about how he is very close to getting it published by a major publishing house. Right because what all the big publishers want is another carbon copy of Tolkien who cannot write nor does he know any kind of grammar and just wants to keep typing...ugh, just writing without commas and periods makes my brain hurt.
-The Racists-These come in all shapes and colors. I have had random white dudes look at me and tell me how much they hate black people. I usually pretend to be deaf at that point. Even if you are a racist bastard, how can you just look at a complete stranger and let them know that? What if I was half black and carrying a gun?
The other part of the racist equation at Mugshots: Jim and his friend. Two black guys, who love to talk about how stupid white people are. They have no problem generalizing all white people as stupid, inbred, illiterate, homosexuals. I do not think I fall into any of those groups. Well maybe inbred, I am from central PA. Just kidding, central PA is not that bad...
Anyways, I hope you understand why Mugshots draws me in after work. The people listed above make me realize that my life is actually very good.
Lost: Episode 407
All sorts of revealing things in this episode. We find out whose ship it is, the last of the Oceanic Six, who the spy is, and what the crew is doing there...Not too bad for an episode focusing on Sun and Jin.
Sun and Jin Island Story
Sun sees Jack and Kate return and questions Kate about what happened. Kate tells her about the gas and all that stuff from last week. Sun goes to see Daniel and asks him if they are here to rescue them. He says that is not up to him.
Sun tells Jin that they must get supplies and defect to Locke's camp. She does not trust the new group. Jin says he will do anything for her. Juliet tries to stop her because of the imminent death during pregnancy. Sun does not believe her. Juliet then tells Jin that Sun is sick and in danger. When this does not deter him from her side, she says that Sun had an affair. Jin is upset and leaves.
During his anger, he grabs his fishing pole and heads off to the beach, Bernard asks if he can join him. Jin says yes. While they are out, Bernard talks about Rose's cancer and how she still wants to leave the island even though the island cured her.
Jin returns to Sun and says that he knows that the man he once was deserved to be cheated on and that she would never cheat on the new Jin, blah blah blah. He asks her if the baby is his and she says yes.
Jin's Flashback
The reason I know this is a flashback and not a flashforward are a few reasons: 1) Jin's hair (it looks like it did during the old flashbacks)...2) Jin's cellphone, very old. 3) Plus any of you Chinese Zodiac nuts out there would probably notice that the shopkeeper said that this was the Year of the Dragon (which would roughly make it 2000 or 2012), 4) No one calls him one of the Oceanic Six...
Anyways, in this flashback, Jin must deliver a stuffed panda to the Chinese Ambassador's daughter (?)...The entire flashback makes us believe that it's a flashforward and that Jin is going to see Sun. It turns out not to be true, and we get to have a few very comedic moments of Jin chasing a taxi that has his panda, screaming "I will hunt you down and rip off your head!"
Sun's Flashforward
Sun goes into labor and as they take her into the hospital someone says "Is that her? One of the Oceanic Six?" She tells the doctor they need to get ahold of Jin and that he needs to be there.
That's what makes this whole thing so brilliant, they interlace the flashbacks and flashforwards to make it seem like Jin is on his way to see Sun giving birth.
At the end of the scene, we see Sun getting ready and there is a knock at the door. She opens it and there is Hurley. He holds the baby (Ji Yeon, which was the name Jin picked on the island) and says they should go see Jin. They go to a cemetery and we see Jin's gravestone.
So, we now know the Oceanic Six includes: Jack, Hurley, Kate, Sayid, and Sun. Who is the last member?
Sayid and Desmond
On the ship, Desmond and Sayid meet the captain, Gault. He tells them that someone has sabotaged the engines and that his crew is getting cabin fever (apparent by Regina tying a chain around her body and jumping into the ocean)...
Gault explains that the boat belongs to Charles Widmore. They are after Ben. Gault shows them the black box from 815 and says they found 324 passengers on board. Someone (meaning Ben) went to a considerable amount of trouble to stage the crash site that the salvage crew found. This explains how Frank was able to know for certain that the pilot he was looking at, was not the man they said it was....
Desmond and Sayid are shown their room, and it has blood splattered on the ceiling. The doctor yells for the janitor, Kevin Johnson (not KJ from the Phoenix Suns, who wants to be mayor). Kevin comes over and we see who it is, Michael (you remember, Walt's dad).
In one of the previews for next weeks show, Ben says that Michael is his spy on the freighter. What could possibly going on? Why is Michael helping Ben? What happened to Walt?
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Interesting encounters. . . .
Several years ago – sometime during the mid to late-90s if I remember correctly – I sat in on a seminar at the Youth Specialties National Youthworkers’ Convention in San Diego. It was the year after I had done a NYWC seminar in Nashville on the postmodern worldview. I think this San Diego seminar had “postmodern” in the title so it caught my eye. I had been studying this stuff for a few years and the folks at YS were starting to address it with some intentionality. The seminar speakers were two guys I had never heard of or encountered before – Mark Driscoll and Chris Seay.
I arrived in the packed-to-the-edges room a little late so I took a seat on the side. Driscoll and Seay appeared to be a couple of trendy-looking twenty-somethings as they sat side-by-side in the front of the room on stools. . . . . first time I had ever seen anyone sit to do a NYWC seminar. For an hour-and-a-half, the two took turns in what seemed to be a stream-of-consciousness dialogue that seemed largely unprepared. As I listened, I became extremely uncomfortable with some of what they were saying, along with the varied responses of the impressionable youthworkers – many of them young – who were sitting in the room.
I remember the two of them being angry – very angry – in their tone. Their anger was directed at the church. As I listened, I quickly realized that I shared quite a few of their concerns. While I think the average attendee heard anger towards the conservative and evangelical church establishment, I began to sense that their anger – which at many spots was well-justified – was directed even more specifically at the culturally captive evangelical/conservative sub-movement that had become known as the boomer-oriented seeker-sensitive arm of the church. But the way they were presenting their case and the prescriptive corrections they proposed just didn’t sit well with me.
As I watched the responses of the people in the room, it seemed that Driscoll and Seay’s anger was polarizing. Some of the people in the room – mostly the younger folk – were finding in Driscoll and Seay a voice for their own dissatisfaction with the church. What worried me was that it appeared that these younger people were ready to jump right into bed with Driscoll and Seay, a move that I feared would be counterproductive as it would lead to a reaction against anything and everything in the church. . . . leading them to throw out the baby with the bathwater. Then there were the older people in the room, who were getting angry at Driscoll and Seay for their anger. . . including the fact that the two were peppering their conversation with some profanity. Throughout the course of the entire seminar, pockets of one or two people would intermittently get up and leave the room, sometimes muttering things under their breath or nodding in disapproval. By the end of the seminar, the room was only about half as full as it was in the beginning.
When it all ended, I sat there in my chair with my head, heart, and stomach swirling around with a variety of thoughts and feelings. I sensed that I had just sat in on something of significance, but I wasn’t sure what it was. I believed that I had just seen a line drawn in the sand. I remember fearing that what should have been and could have been constructive criticism of institutions and practices that fully deserved constructive criticism, had instead made a sharp turn and was heading down the road – in fact may have been pretty far along the road – towards a splintering of the church that would be reactionary. . . . and so much so that all the theological good that had come out of the modernist period would be thrown out with the bad simply because it was, well, modernist. In hindsight, I realize now that this was my first introduction to what would quickly become known as “The Emergent Church” . . . a very diverse movement, by the way, that has offered some much needed corrective critique.
I certainly didn’t have it all figured out at the time – nor do I now – but I was genuinely concerned by what I had just seen and heard, along with the response of the crowd to it. As I sat there searching inside for clarification and answers, it suddenly dawned on me that there was what I believed to be an answer out there. In fact, it was one that had been around for a long, long time.
I got up out of my chair and walked to the front of the room where people had gathered to chat with Driscoll and Seay. Driscoll was deeply engaged in conversation with someone so I stepped into an opening with Seay and introduced myself. I remember being a bit pensive, knowing full well that these guys were angry, they were already deeply invested in shaping solutions, and why – after all – would they want to hear something from somebody ten years older than them who had grown up as a part of the prior boomer generation? Here’s what I remember of that conversation with Seay: I introduced myself and quickly said something like, “I hear your anger. I think what you’re looking for is something I’ve found in Reformed theology. There are people out there who have been thinking and talking about these things for years, but they’ve gone largely unheard because, well, they are Reformed.” Seay looked at me like I was too old to have anything worthwhile to pass on, and that was the end of our conversation. It wasn’t a good feeling. I left to get dinner.
That afternoon has stayed with me for years as I’ve watched the movement that was represented on those stools grow rapidly. As I’ve watched it grow, I’ve continued to share some of their concerns about the church, but few of their prescriptions. I still think that Reformed theology, particularly the strain known as Dutch neo-Calvinism, is Biblically faithful and a foundation that informs matters of faith and life with consistency and integrity.
Fast forward ten years. Three weeks ago I’m heading west by myself on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. I’m going to the Jubilee Conference in Pittsburgh. This gathering of 2500 college students has been going on for over thirty years. It’s run by the Coalition for Christian Outreach, a Pittsburgh-based campus ministry group that I was a part of from 1978 to 1981. It was at Geneva College and with the CCO that faith and life really started to make sense to me – in fact it came to life – as our training and study laid out that Dutch neo-Calvinist approach to faith and life. It was like scales fell from my eyes. Before hopping in the car to head west, I decided to grab a couple of things to listen to on the way out. I borrowed Derek Melleby’s copy of Stephen Colebert’s “I Am American and So Can You” book on CD, along with a bootleg CD copy of a lecture someone had given me a few months before. There in black magic marker on the CD were these words: “The Emergent Church – Mark Driscoll.” Now I had heard that Driscoll had experienced an epiphany of sorts. I had heard that he was now hanging out with John Piper. I had heard that he was also hanging out with guys like C.J. Mahaney and Joshua Harris – who themselves had undergone some recent transformation as a result of discovering and embracing Reformed theology. I had also heard that he was hanging out with Tim Keller and was reading John Stott. This was not the Mark Driscoll I had listened to in San Diego.
So I’m driving. I decide that I’m in the mood for some laughs so I drop Disc #1 of Colbert into the CD player. Fifteen minutes into the CD it starts skipping. Stink. I pop it out. . . . knowing that Derek’s going to blame me for messing up his CD. By default, I pop in the Driscoll CD. I quickly learn that the recording was made last fall at a conference somewhere in Raleigh-Durham, North Carolina. I am immediately drawn in as Driscoll tells his story, including repenting of his earlier arrogance, insecurity, immaturity, and anger. I think, “Hey, I remember that guy.” He talks about the work God has done in his life and the shifts that have taken place. Then, Driscoll launches into a critique of the emergent church. I’m listening to a man graciously transformed. By the end, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that his eyes had been opened to the same understanding of the Scriptures, faith, and life that God had used to transform me and to shape our ministry with CPYU. I couldn’t help but think back to San Diego. By the time the CD had ended, I had tears in my eyes. And, that funny tingling feeling you get when you see God doing something great, well, it was surging through my body. I literally had to pull into a rest area to sit, think, and rejoice.
As I pulled back on the road I was thinking of three things. First, I was thanking God. Second, I was thinking of all the people I needed to give the CD to. And third, I simply said to God, “If you ever allow me to, I’d like to be able to personally tell Mark Driscoll the story of San Diego, the CD, and how it served as a powerful testimony to your transforming grace.”
So last weekend, a couple of weeks after my trip to Pittsburgh, I fly to Seattle to speak at a banquet for the Shoreline Christian School (by the way, this is another one of those Christian Schools that has embraced Reformed Theology and isn’t the least bit scared to teach kids how to engage the world Christianly!). As the banquet guests are arriving, I’m walking through the room past groups of chatting people. I pass one group and hear a very familiar voice. I turn around – surprised - and see Mark Driscoll. His kids go to the school. To make a long story short, God has answered my prayer. We talk.
Grace is an amazing thing, isn’t it?
I arrived in the packed-to-the-edges room a little late so I took a seat on the side. Driscoll and Seay appeared to be a couple of trendy-looking twenty-somethings as they sat side-by-side in the front of the room on stools. . . . . first time I had ever seen anyone sit to do a NYWC seminar. For an hour-and-a-half, the two took turns in what seemed to be a stream-of-consciousness dialogue that seemed largely unprepared. As I listened, I became extremely uncomfortable with some of what they were saying, along with the varied responses of the impressionable youthworkers – many of them young – who were sitting in the room.
I remember the two of them being angry – very angry – in their tone. Their anger was directed at the church. As I listened, I quickly realized that I shared quite a few of their concerns. While I think the average attendee heard anger towards the conservative and evangelical church establishment, I began to sense that their anger – which at many spots was well-justified – was directed even more specifically at the culturally captive evangelical/conservative sub-movement that had become known as the boomer-oriented seeker-sensitive arm of the church. But the way they were presenting their case and the prescriptive corrections they proposed just didn’t sit well with me.
As I watched the responses of the people in the room, it seemed that Driscoll and Seay’s anger was polarizing. Some of the people in the room – mostly the younger folk – were finding in Driscoll and Seay a voice for their own dissatisfaction with the church. What worried me was that it appeared that these younger people were ready to jump right into bed with Driscoll and Seay, a move that I feared would be counterproductive as it would lead to a reaction against anything and everything in the church. . . . leading them to throw out the baby with the bathwater. Then there were the older people in the room, who were getting angry at Driscoll and Seay for their anger. . . including the fact that the two were peppering their conversation with some profanity. Throughout the course of the entire seminar, pockets of one or two people would intermittently get up and leave the room, sometimes muttering things under their breath or nodding in disapproval. By the end of the seminar, the room was only about half as full as it was in the beginning.
When it all ended, I sat there in my chair with my head, heart, and stomach swirling around with a variety of thoughts and feelings. I sensed that I had just sat in on something of significance, but I wasn’t sure what it was. I believed that I had just seen a line drawn in the sand. I remember fearing that what should have been and could have been constructive criticism of institutions and practices that fully deserved constructive criticism, had instead made a sharp turn and was heading down the road – in fact may have been pretty far along the road – towards a splintering of the church that would be reactionary. . . . and so much so that all the theological good that had come out of the modernist period would be thrown out with the bad simply because it was, well, modernist. In hindsight, I realize now that this was my first introduction to what would quickly become known as “The Emergent Church” . . . a very diverse movement, by the way, that has offered some much needed corrective critique.
I certainly didn’t have it all figured out at the time – nor do I now – but I was genuinely concerned by what I had just seen and heard, along with the response of the crowd to it. As I sat there searching inside for clarification and answers, it suddenly dawned on me that there was what I believed to be an answer out there. In fact, it was one that had been around for a long, long time.
I got up out of my chair and walked to the front of the room where people had gathered to chat with Driscoll and Seay. Driscoll was deeply engaged in conversation with someone so I stepped into an opening with Seay and introduced myself. I remember being a bit pensive, knowing full well that these guys were angry, they were already deeply invested in shaping solutions, and why – after all – would they want to hear something from somebody ten years older than them who had grown up as a part of the prior boomer generation? Here’s what I remember of that conversation with Seay: I introduced myself and quickly said something like, “I hear your anger. I think what you’re looking for is something I’ve found in Reformed theology. There are people out there who have been thinking and talking about these things for years, but they’ve gone largely unheard because, well, they are Reformed.” Seay looked at me like I was too old to have anything worthwhile to pass on, and that was the end of our conversation. It wasn’t a good feeling. I left to get dinner.
That afternoon has stayed with me for years as I’ve watched the movement that was represented on those stools grow rapidly. As I’ve watched it grow, I’ve continued to share some of their concerns about the church, but few of their prescriptions. I still think that Reformed theology, particularly the strain known as Dutch neo-Calvinism, is Biblically faithful and a foundation that informs matters of faith and life with consistency and integrity.
Fast forward ten years. Three weeks ago I’m heading west by myself on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. I’m going to the Jubilee Conference in Pittsburgh. This gathering of 2500 college students has been going on for over thirty years. It’s run by the Coalition for Christian Outreach, a Pittsburgh-based campus ministry group that I was a part of from 1978 to 1981. It was at Geneva College and with the CCO that faith and life really started to make sense to me – in fact it came to life – as our training and study laid out that Dutch neo-Calvinist approach to faith and life. It was like scales fell from my eyes. Before hopping in the car to head west, I decided to grab a couple of things to listen to on the way out. I borrowed Derek Melleby’s copy of Stephen Colebert’s “I Am American and So Can You” book on CD, along with a bootleg CD copy of a lecture someone had given me a few months before. There in black magic marker on the CD were these words: “The Emergent Church – Mark Driscoll.” Now I had heard that Driscoll had experienced an epiphany of sorts. I had heard that he was now hanging out with John Piper. I had heard that he was also hanging out with guys like C.J. Mahaney and Joshua Harris – who themselves had undergone some recent transformation as a result of discovering and embracing Reformed theology. I had also heard that he was hanging out with Tim Keller and was reading John Stott. This was not the Mark Driscoll I had listened to in San Diego.
So I’m driving. I decide that I’m in the mood for some laughs so I drop Disc #1 of Colbert into the CD player. Fifteen minutes into the CD it starts skipping. Stink. I pop it out. . . . knowing that Derek’s going to blame me for messing up his CD. By default, I pop in the Driscoll CD. I quickly learn that the recording was made last fall at a conference somewhere in Raleigh-Durham, North Carolina. I am immediately drawn in as Driscoll tells his story, including repenting of his earlier arrogance, insecurity, immaturity, and anger. I think, “Hey, I remember that guy.” He talks about the work God has done in his life and the shifts that have taken place. Then, Driscoll launches into a critique of the emergent church. I’m listening to a man graciously transformed. By the end, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that his eyes had been opened to the same understanding of the Scriptures, faith, and life that God had used to transform me and to shape our ministry with CPYU. I couldn’t help but think back to San Diego. By the time the CD had ended, I had tears in my eyes. And, that funny tingling feeling you get when you see God doing something great, well, it was surging through my body. I literally had to pull into a rest area to sit, think, and rejoice.
As I pulled back on the road I was thinking of three things. First, I was thanking God. Second, I was thinking of all the people I needed to give the CD to. And third, I simply said to God, “If you ever allow me to, I’d like to be able to personally tell Mark Driscoll the story of San Diego, the CD, and how it served as a powerful testimony to your transforming grace.”
So last weekend, a couple of weeks after my trip to Pittsburgh, I fly to Seattle to speak at a banquet for the Shoreline Christian School (by the way, this is another one of those Christian Schools that has embraced Reformed Theology and isn’t the least bit scared to teach kids how to engage the world Christianly!). As the banquet guests are arriving, I’m walking through the room past groups of chatting people. I pass one group and hear a very familiar voice. I turn around – surprised - and see Mark Driscoll. His kids go to the school. To make a long story short, God has answered my prayer. We talk.
Grace is an amazing thing, isn’t it?
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Expensive Sex
I am sure everyone has heard about NY governor Eliot Spitzer's big prostitute bust. If not, just read the article and then come back...okay, you're back?
$4300??? What kind ofawesome perverted things would he be allowed to do for that kind of money? The normal stuff usually only costs $100. Hell, some girls I know will light your pubic hair on fire while they jerk off a circus midget for like $500. Umm, not that I know from experience...
On a serious note, if you are a big time politician, would it not be easier just to get a mistress? For that kind of money, he could get her an apartment and some spending cash. Then go do whatever he wants, whenever he wants.
Also, why is it anytime some politician gets involved in a big scandal, the media immediately says things like "and his name was tossed around as a possible upcoming presidential candidate..." Somewhere, some group of people sit around all day just tossing names around for the candidacy of the President...
I also think I have a new way of rating the hotness of a girl: $4300 Club. I will have to definitely give it some consideration as to what girls I would spend that kind of money to have my way with. And by have my way with, I mean 28 seconds and then 30 minutes of me explaining that it has never happened before...damn it, I think I have said too much.
Would she make my $4300 Club?
$4300??? What kind of
On a serious note, if you are a big time politician, would it not be easier just to get a mistress? For that kind of money, he could get her an apartment and some spending cash. Then go do whatever he wants, whenever he wants.
Also, why is it anytime some politician gets involved in a big scandal, the media immediately says things like "and his name was tossed around as a possible upcoming presidential candidate..." Somewhere, some group of people sit around all day just tossing names around for the candidacy of the President...
I also think I have a new way of rating the hotness of a girl: $4300 Club. I will have to definitely give it some consideration as to what girls I would spend that kind of money to have my way with. And by have my way with, I mean 28 seconds and then 30 minutes of me explaining that it has never happened before...damn it, I think I have said too much.
Would she make my $4300 Club?
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Odds and Ends for Today
First thing, I want to let everyone know that I disabled the anonymous commenting feature. I like getting comments, but I also like accountability. Plus if three anonymous people respond, how do I respond back? Anonymous #1, Anonymous #2...I do not feel it is my place to rank my anonymous friends.
Second, I updated the Labels section. I streamlined it so it is not just a huge list. You can actually look at it and maybe even use it.
Third, my brother started a blog, yet has not posted anything yet. Send him Facebook, MySpace, AIM, or Text messages telling him to write something. If not, I will put up an embarrassing picture of him.
Number 4: I want everyone to make their baseball predictions. I am putting this here so it does not get lost down the page. I know how hard it is to scroll down.
Five: When I put up a poll question, you should at least give an explanation as to why you voted the way you did. Any moron can press a button, "ooooh, a button, me pressy." Let me know why you think the Pirates will finish with however many wins you think. I will leave my reasoning in the comments as well.
Sechs: I love Google Analytics (haha, ANALytics). It makes me happy that people in Sweden are checking out my site. I just wish they would comment, especially in Swedish, my curiosity would get the better of me and force me to learn new languages just to read my comments. Yes, I am weird.
///////: Anyone want to move to Guam with me?
XXX: What does porn-star Amy Reid have to do with any of this? Absolutely nothing.
Dream Time
Last night, or more accurately yesterday afternoon, I was in bed having a nice sleep. I had a very disturbing dream, one that I thought was absolutely real. In the dream I was sleeping in my bed. I started to vomit and got a little bit on my sheets and pillow before making it to the bathroom. When I woke up I was utterly convinced it had happened, so I began to check my sheets and pillow for puke. I could not find any, nor did I have that taste of vomit in my mouth.
The dream reminded me of the last time I actually threw up. It was back during the days of 224D. Gideon and I went to CC Peppers and I opted for the 14" Philly cheese steak. I wolfed that bad boy down and then a little bit later people started coming over to play a little poker.
I got beat on a couple of hands where people caught some lucky cards and instead of continuing to buy back in and aggravate myself, I decided to go over to Champs. Elvis, one of the best bartenders ever, kept the beer flowing to help ease my pan. After about 12 beers and a couple of shots, I decided to get a six pack of Bud pounders and head back home.
After drinking the pounders and becoming ridiculously inebriated. I wanted to play cards, and somehow used my change, and obviously lost all of it. Luckily everyone was nice enough to realize I was bombed and just ignored me. Eventually I felt a little sick and went outside where I pucked up everything inside of my little body. It definitely tasted like Philly cheese steak. I remember waking up the next day and being able to still taste the cheese steak and vomit mixture in my mouth. It took me along time to be able to eat cheese steaks without getting a bit nauseous.
This photo is not from that night, but a close representation of how I probably looked...
The dream reminded me of the last time I actually threw up. It was back during the days of 224D. Gideon and I went to CC Peppers and I opted for the 14" Philly cheese steak. I wolfed that bad boy down and then a little bit later people started coming over to play a little poker.
I got beat on a couple of hands where people caught some lucky cards and instead of continuing to buy back in and aggravate myself, I decided to go over to Champs. Elvis, one of the best bartenders ever, kept the beer flowing to help ease my pan. After about 12 beers and a couple of shots, I decided to get a six pack of Bud pounders and head back home.
After drinking the pounders and becoming ridiculously inebriated. I wanted to play cards, and somehow used my change, and obviously lost all of it. Luckily everyone was nice enough to realize I was bombed and just ignored me. Eventually I felt a little sick and went outside where I pucked up everything inside of my little body. It definitely tasted like Philly cheese steak. I remember waking up the next day and being able to still taste the cheese steak and vomit mixture in my mouth. It took me along time to be able to eat cheese steaks without getting a bit nauseous.
This photo is not from that night, but a close representation of how I probably looked...
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Poll Results
70% think only hot chicks should wear body paint. Pretty reasonable. Most of us guys do not want to see some 300 pound ugly chick in body paint...ugh.
20% said no all together. Probably some girls.
10% said yes. This scares me. Who is this one person who would be okay with the 300 pound ugly chick?
New poll question: How many wins will the pirates have?
I think the season would be much better if they had girls like this at the games...
Friday, March 7, 2008
A Little About Me
I rarely write much about my personal life, but today I feel like I should. Lately I have been feeling rather, not depressed, but pretty down. My life seems like it is stuck. I blame it on a variety of things, but really I know the problem. Kacie.
I am still in love with her. When we first broke up, let me back up. The reason she broke up with me is that she found out that I cheated on her. Now, both times I cheated on her were before a very crucial moment in our relationship. After that "moment" I fell completely in love. Yeah, I know, it sounds gay.
At first, I took it pretty lightly, mostly because I figured she would come around and take me back. Then because of work, I had to basically push it out of my mind. After awhile, I had a routine and things were okay. She was not okay though, she would call me crying and depressed. After awhile I went up to visit her. We went out, had dinner, got drinks. Everything was like old times.
After a month or so, the phone calls started to dwindle, and when I went home, she and I could never seem to get together. Then she tells me that she is seeing someone. She has a boyfriend. It blows my mind. I say all the nice things, like "well I am happy for you..." And at first, I was happy for her. Then I started to realize what I lost. So now, for the time, I feel the effects of our breakup. I get sad, I get angry, I cry myself to sleep (I am such a loser for admitting that)...
I have tried to start dating again. I took a girl out a few times, and who knows where it is going. She stayed over night and we slept together (nothing sexual), when I woke up, my arm was around her and the first thing I thought to myself: Kacie. When I realized she was not Kacie, I became quite sad.
I do not know how long it will take me to get over the girl I love. But, until that time comes, I foresee a long road of darkness ahead of me.
I am still in love with her. When we first broke up, let me back up. The reason she broke up with me is that she found out that I cheated on her. Now, both times I cheated on her were before a very crucial moment in our relationship. After that "moment" I fell completely in love. Yeah, I know, it sounds gay.
At first, I took it pretty lightly, mostly because I figured she would come around and take me back. Then because of work, I had to basically push it out of my mind. After awhile, I had a routine and things were okay. She was not okay though, she would call me crying and depressed. After awhile I went up to visit her. We went out, had dinner, got drinks. Everything was like old times.
After a month or so, the phone calls started to dwindle, and when I went home, she and I could never seem to get together. Then she tells me that she is seeing someone. She has a boyfriend. It blows my mind. I say all the nice things, like "well I am happy for you..." And at first, I was happy for her. Then I started to realize what I lost. So now, for the time, I feel the effects of our breakup. I get sad, I get angry, I cry myself to sleep (I am such a loser for admitting that)...
I have tried to start dating again. I took a girl out a few times, and who knows where it is going. She stayed over night and we slept together (nothing sexual), when I woke up, my arm was around her and the first thing I thought to myself: Kacie. When I realized she was not Kacie, I became quite sad.
I do not know how long it will take me to get over the girl I love. But, until that time comes, I foresee a long road of darkness ahead of me.
Baseball 2008 Predictions
Well it is time to make my predictions for the upcoming year. Everyone better join in on these.
AL East
Boston
Yankees
Blue Jays
Devil Rays
Orioles
I seriously considered switching Toronto and Tampa Bay. The Rays will eventually (i.e. next couple years) do some damage in that division. Not saying they will win it, or ever get a wild card, but they could be the team that knocks the second place team out of the wild card hunt...But, not this year, not yet. Yankees get the Wild Card.
AL Central
Tigers
Indians
Twins
White Sox
Royals
The Tigers went out and truly improved their team. Miguel Cabrera in that lineup, scary. If that team stays healthy, it's not nearly that close, if everyone gets hurt, then the Indians have a shot.
AL West
My favorite four team division...
Angels
Mariners
Rangers
A's
Bedard helps the M's out, but not enough to overcome the Angels.
NL East
Mets
Phillies
Braves
Nationals
Marlins
I know the Mets choked last year. But, I hate Philadelphia, and I will not pick them. Yes, I am childish...Phillies do get the Wild Card.
NL Central
Cubs
Brewers
Astros
Cardinals
Reds
Pirates
The Pirates suck, and will not do any better than last year.
NL West
Rockies
Dodgers
Padres
Diamondbacks
Giants
The D-Backs played much better than they really were. Their W-L expectancy had them with a losing record. You can say those things are unreliable, but look at how close they get every other team...well whatever.
Playoffs
ALDS: Boston over Los Angeles. Detroit over New York.
ALCS: Detroit over Boston.
NLDS: New York over Chicago. Colorado over Philadelphia.
NLCS: New York over Colorado.
World Series: Tigers 4-2.
NL MVP: David Wright
AL MVP: Miguel Cabrera
NL CY Young: Johan Santana
AL CY Young: Jon Lackey
Pirates Losses: 101
Let me know what you think people. Give me your predictions.
AL East
Boston
Yankees
Blue Jays
Devil Rays
Orioles
I seriously considered switching Toronto and Tampa Bay. The Rays will eventually (i.e. next couple years) do some damage in that division. Not saying they will win it, or ever get a wild card, but they could be the team that knocks the second place team out of the wild card hunt...But, not this year, not yet. Yankees get the Wild Card.
AL Central
Tigers
Indians
Twins
White Sox
Royals
The Tigers went out and truly improved their team. Miguel Cabrera in that lineup, scary. If that team stays healthy, it's not nearly that close, if everyone gets hurt, then the Indians have a shot.
AL West
My favorite four team division...
Angels
Mariners
Rangers
A's
Bedard helps the M's out, but not enough to overcome the Angels.
NL East
Mets
Phillies
Braves
Nationals
Marlins
I know the Mets choked last year. But, I hate Philadelphia, and I will not pick them. Yes, I am childish...Phillies do get the Wild Card.
NL Central
Cubs
Brewers
Astros
Cardinals
Reds
Pirates
The Pirates suck, and will not do any better than last year.
NL West
Rockies
Dodgers
Padres
Diamondbacks
Giants
The D-Backs played much better than they really were. Their W-L expectancy had them with a losing record. You can say those things are unreliable, but look at how close they get every other team...well whatever.
Playoffs
ALDS: Boston over Los Angeles. Detroit over New York.
ALCS: Detroit over Boston.
NLDS: New York over Chicago. Colorado over Philadelphia.
NLCS: New York over Colorado.
World Series: Tigers 4-2.
NL MVP: David Wright
AL MVP: Miguel Cabrera
NL CY Young: Johan Santana
AL CY Young: Jon Lackey
Pirates Losses: 101
Let me know what you think people. Give me your predictions.
Lost: Episode 406
Well this episode gave us some of the answers I asked for last week. Mainly about Charles Widmore's involvement...
We start out with Jack and Juliet realizing Daniel and Charlotte are gone. They start to track them. Juliet hears the weird voices and all of a sudden a very hot chick appears. Her name is Harper and she is one of the Others. She tells Juliet that Daniel and Charlotte went to the Tempest and that Ben wants her to kill them. Juliet says that Ben is captured and Harper laughs and says that Ben is exactly where he wants to be.
Jack and Juliet head towards the Tempest. Meanwhile, Kate comes upon Daniel and Charlotte and begins to question them. They lie and she searches their bag, which contains gas masks. She starts to ask what they are for, but Charlotte knocks her out. Jack finds Kate, and while attending to her, Juliet makes a bee line for the Tempest. When she gets there, she finds Daniel in a containment suit typing on a computer as alarms go off. She pulls a gun on him, but Charlotte attacks her (cat fight)...They explain that they are making the gas inert so Ben cannot use it on anyone, they know that he used it on the island before to kill everyone. Juliet lets them go.
Outside, she talks to Jack. She explains that he is in danger because Ben will never stop trying to get her because he believes that she is his. Jack says he is not afraid and that Ben knows where to find him. Then they kiss...
On the other side of the island, Locke and Ben continue their mental chess game. Finally Ben says he will tell Locke about the freighter. Locke agrees to release Ben and they watch a video of Charles Widmore executing one of Ben's people. Locke says that Widmore wants the island. When Locke asks why, Ben says to him "if 5000 people flock to Mexico to see an image of the Virgin Mary in some mold, how many people will want to see you?"
Is that Widmore's intention? Control the island and make it a place where rich, sick people have to fork out tons of money to be cured?
Flashback
The flashbacks focused on Juliet's time on the island. How she slept with Goodwin, who was married to Harper. Ben knew about it and waited for the right moment to get rid of Goodwin, sending him to the tail section for a prolonged period. We see Ben's adoration for Juliet, and just how sick of a bastard he can be.
The big question from this week: who is Ben's man on the freighter? Especially since Ben told Locke he would need to sit down before he told him...
Picture above: Harper played by Andrea Roth. She played Denis Leary's wife on Rescue Me.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Fantasy Baseball 2008
The fantasy baseball season started last night with our draft. Unfortunately I had to leave during the draft. I did okay for myself, but feel like my latter rounds sucked because of autodraft. I am not making excuses or anything. I have a pretty good HR squad, no steals and a decent starting rotation. My relief pitching is kind of lacking though. Here is my complete draft (I had the 9th pick).
1. Matt Holliday (OF)
2. Miguel Cabrera (3B)
3. Carlos Lee (OF)
4. Justin Morneau (1B)
5. Cole Hamels (SP)
6. John Lackey (SP)
7. Adam Dunn (OF)
8. Hunter Pence (OF)
9. Chris Young (SP)
10. Roy Oswalt (SP)
11. Edgar Renteria (SS)
12. Howie Kendrick (2B)
13. Ben Sheets (SP)
14. Joba Chamberlain (RP)
15. Tony Pena (RP)
16. Geovany Soto (C)
17. Troy Percival (RP)
18. Jermaine Dye (OF)
19. Dustin McGowan (SP)
20. Phil Hughes (SP)
21. Orlando Hudson (2B)
Things that annoyed me, Percival. I would never have drafted him in the 17th round, especially with B.J. Ryan still out there. Fortunately, I was able to drop Percival and pick up Jeremy Accardo, the guy who filled in for Ryan last year and had 30 saves. Ryan may not make it back for the start of the season, and he may not be ready for closing...
I am open for trades, especially for a midlevel closer, or a superstar closer depending on what someone wants for him.
1. Matt Holliday (OF)
2. Miguel Cabrera (3B)
3. Carlos Lee (OF)
4. Justin Morneau (1B)
5. Cole Hamels (SP)
6. John Lackey (SP)
7. Adam Dunn (OF)
8. Hunter Pence (OF)
9. Chris Young (SP)
10. Roy Oswalt (SP)
11. Edgar Renteria (SS)
12. Howie Kendrick (2B)
13. Ben Sheets (SP)
14. Joba Chamberlain (RP)
15. Tony Pena (RP)
16. Geovany Soto (C)
17. Troy Percival (RP)
18. Jermaine Dye (OF)
19. Dustin McGowan (SP)
20. Phil Hughes (SP)
21. Orlando Hudson (2B)
Things that annoyed me, Percival. I would never have drafted him in the 17th round, especially with B.J. Ryan still out there. Fortunately, I was able to drop Percival and pick up Jeremy Accardo, the guy who filled in for Ryan last year and had 30 saves. Ryan may not make it back for the start of the season, and he may not be ready for closing...
I am open for trades, especially for a midlevel closer, or a superstar closer depending on what someone wants for him.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Countdown
Apparently today, National Enquirer reported Patrick Swayze only has five weeks to live because of pancreatic cancer. This has since then been said to be untrue.
I do not want him to die or anything, but since I am a sick bastard, I figured I would put my prediction of when he will die right here: May 7th. If anyone wants to join in this morbidity, well let me have your date in the comments.
Yes, I am definitely going to hell.
I do not want him to die or anything, but since I am a sick bastard, I figured I would put my prediction of when he will die right here: May 7th. If anyone wants to join in this morbidity, well let me have your date in the comments.
Yes, I am definitely going to hell.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
The Antichrist
I just finished reading Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. It focuses on the end of the world. A demon, angel, witch, witch-hunter, and the 11 year old AntiChrist, must try and stop Armageddon.
My favorite part of the book deals with the idea that maybe what is written is not actually God's plan, and only God knows the plan. The two main characters (demon and angel) think they will be punished for going against each of their sides goals, but at the end they realize that they had no free will in the matter, they did what they plan had set out for them.
It's very hard to explain everything without going into great detail, but it made me think of something I always wanted to write. The final memoirs of the antichrist. He ponders how his life was predetermined thousands of years ago. He has no say in the matter and in the end, people should not think so poorly of him, since in actuality, without him, there would be no return of Christ...
So, for all you Christians out there, waiting for the return of Jesus, why not help speed it along? Start praying for war, famine, pestilence, and death. That way the Anti-Christ will be right behind them and then before you know it Jesus will be back and all will be right again.
Or to quote from Adam Young, the 11 year old Anti-Christ in Good Omens:
"I don't see what's so triffic about creating people as people and then gettin' upset 'cos they act like people. Anyway, if you stopped tellin' people it's all sorted out after they're dead, they might try sorting it all out while they're alive."
My favorite part of the book deals with the idea that maybe what is written is not actually God's plan, and only God knows the plan. The two main characters (demon and angel) think they will be punished for going against each of their sides goals, but at the end they realize that they had no free will in the matter, they did what they plan had set out for them.
It's very hard to explain everything without going into great detail, but it made me think of something I always wanted to write. The final memoirs of the antichrist. He ponders how his life was predetermined thousands of years ago. He has no say in the matter and in the end, people should not think so poorly of him, since in actuality, without him, there would be no return of Christ...
So, for all you Christians out there, waiting for the return of Jesus, why not help speed it along? Start praying for war, famine, pestilence, and death. That way the Anti-Christ will be right behind them and then before you know it Jesus will be back and all will be right again.
Or to quote from Adam Young, the 11 year old Anti-Christ in Good Omens:
"I don't see what's so triffic about creating people as people and then gettin' upset 'cos they act like people. Anyway, if you stopped tellin' people it's all sorted out after they're dead, they might try sorting it all out while they're alive."
Poll Results
Obviously no one gives two shits about the NBA. Which is kind of a shame. I mean, from what I understand, this year is pretty exciting considering the Western Conference is really only close and like nine teams are still in the thick of things.
Oh well. New poll question: Should body paint be an acceptable form of clothing?
Oh well. New poll question: Should body paint be an acceptable form of clothing?
Lost: Episode 405
We saw a completely different use of the flashbacks in this episode. Instead of flashing back to a point in the characters life, we actually see Desmond flashing back and forth in time.
As Frank, Sayid, and Desmond make their way to the boat, they hit some turbulence and something happens to Des. He does not know anyone on the helicopter and then he kind of passes out. When he wakes up, he is back with his platoon in the Royal Scots Regiment.
Jack questions Daniel about why it is taking so long for them to get back. Daniel tries to explain to him that time works differently on the island. Sayid calls and explains to Jack that something happened to Desmond. Daniel understands and asks Desmond what year it is. Desmond says 1996. Daniel tells him to go find Daniel Faraday at Oxford University. He gives him some numbers and says to remind him about Eloise.
Desmond does what he is told and at first the 1996 Daniel does not believe him, but the numbers and Eloise convince him. He shows Desmond a giant maze and then zaps Eloise (a rat) with electromagnetism (his time machine) and the rat goes unconscious. When Eloise wakes up, she immediately runs the course of the maze. Daniel explains that he just finished building the maze and that he was not going to teach Eloise for another hour. Proof that the rat's consciousness swapped back and forth in time.
Faraday explains that Desmond needs to find a constant. Something he can go back to in 1996 and 2004. If not, he will not be able to stop the jumps and eventually he will die. Desmond decides that Penny is his constant. He tries to find her and can only locate her father. Mr. Widmore is at an auction, buying a diary of Tovard Hanso, the first mate of the Black Rock, the ship from season one.
Mr. Widmore gives Desmond Penny's address and Des goes out to see her. She is angry with him for dumping her and Desmond apologizes. He says she has to do him a favor. He will leave and never come back, but he just wants her number and he will call her on Christmas Eve 2004. She thinks he is nuts, but gives him her number, which he memorizes.
When he jumps back to the present, Sayid has finished fixing the ship's phone system, but it has a small battery. Desmond calls Penny and she answers saying that she has been looking for him for three years. They say they love each other and that they will find each other. It was a very emotional moment.
Back on the island, Faraday continues reading his journal and comes to a page that says "If anything goes wrong, Desmond Hume will be my constant."
One of the things I keep thinking about: Mr. Widmore. Remember from the episode where we learn about Desmond's ability to see Charlie's death, Old Man Widdy told Des that he was not worth a glass of the expensive scotch, let alone to marry Penny. That was also the point where Desmond met the lady at the ring store, who told him that he was destined to go to the island.
Is it possible, since Widmore was buying the Hanso journal about the Black Rock, that he knows what is going on and he knew that he had to insult Desmond in order for him to get on the island, in order for him to come back and finally marry Penny? I mean, if he hated Desmond, why give him Penny's address? He just seems to be connected to everything.
On a side note, Penny is pretty hot and has a nice
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