By the way . . .

I love the Saturday potpourri post that Scot McKnight puts together each week. He calls them Weekly Meanderings, and they're chalk-full of good reading.

***

Chaplain Mike has a good post explaining the terms evangelical, post-evangelical, and post-evangelical wilderness.

***

An old friend dropped by to see me this week. Guy I knew from my first church, back when I was a "baby Christian." The church was run by a madman in vestments, but we were trying to focus on "the positive," ignoring the psychic damage the madman was doing. My friend hung on much longer, but eventually walked away. Now he's a sort of humble rebel, pastoring a small group of old-timers who have also escaped that madman's fiefdom of churchly pain (I'm not kidding). I guess my friend wants me to come have a look, but I've moved well on from those days.

***

Back to the "wilderness" metaphor. Perhaps it's not the right term. Wilderness, biblically speaking, is sort of the other end of the spectrum from promised land. Like many of the commentors at the above-mentioned IM post, I'm not in a church right now. But am I in the wilderness? Everyone whose faith rests on Jesus--his life, his work on the cross, his present ministry--has truly found the promised land. In that sense, whether they're comfortably ensconced in a church pew each Sunday morning or not, they're certainly not "in the wilderness." But note: this "promised land" I speak of is not temple-centric. It is Christ-centric, borderless, and, yes, spiritual.

But I do accept the term "post-evangelical wilderness" as a cultural descriptor. A lot of people are ill-at-ease in the funhouse of contemporary evangelicalism. I mean, there is just so much diversionary nonsense!

***

As for me, the wife and I have been thoroughly enjoying our church-free Sundays. My suggestion is that we hold to our friends and "community" of faith with a firm grip, but to our Sunday morning church extravaganza with a very light one. Be diligent about loving and serving one another (I have not mastered this by a long shot), and be creative about worshiping together. The evangelical template for "worship"--attend a five-or-six song Christian rock concert, have a brief coffee-clatch, throw money in a plate so you can buy a glitzy sign for the highway out front, then sit and listen to a 45 minute sermon by the expert Bible guy and call it all good--it's just broken. It's repetitive self-enthralled narcissistic shallow and has as its core purpose--though no one will admit it--that everyone do more to sustain the whole glitzy shebang. We're rabbits running in circles!

Now, no pastor/church CEO is going to like hearing this idea--hold lightly to the Sunday morning church routine! They always push for more zeal about Sunday morning, more "faithful" attendance, more "sacrificial giving" to support the ongoing show. The idea of a decentralized non-templecentric faith is really hard for them to get. It doesn't "preach" well. But I believe it just may be the future of the church.

Semi-kiboshed blogging-mojo!

Hey, I know this place. I remember now! This is my blog!

Seriously, I haven't given up blogging, at least not yet. The truth is, though, I seem to have run out of things to say.

When I started blogging, I had the ministry paradigm. My blog would be a place of "encouragement," which after all is a spiritual gift, right? I did that for a while, but soon my native grumpiness began to manifest itself, and I was the grumpiest encourager out there.

Always trying to tame the grumpy old man inside me, I toned that down eventually and found myself with a lot less to say.

In life this has always been a good strategy for me personally: talk less, listen more.

But it puts the kibosh on your blogging-mojo!

So here I am with a long-established blog, but little sense of mission or purpose. Still, it's a kind of home to me, so I'm not going away. That talk less, listen more thing only goes so far. Sooner or later I start chattering.

Festival

Went to a music festival yesterday. What kind of music? String band, of course. As Darryl Anger says, "If you play a stringed instrument, or if you love to listen to string band music, you are a part of the vast republic of strings." Yup, I'm a citizen of that republic.

I heard some great bands yesterday. Among them:

Della Mae
Joy Kills Sorrow
The Packway Handle Band (liked 'em so much, I bought a CD!)
Crooked Still



The Claire Lynch Band {who played maybe the best dang version of The Wabash Cannonball I've ever heard!)

And the really amazing, show-stopping Steep Canyon Rangers (who played maybe the best version of Orange Blossom Special I've heard! Their fiddle player is incredible.)

It was a great day, full of great and inspiring music.

Discernment, Michael Spencer, Randy Newman, John Prine, Loneliness

This is the best post I've read in some time: John Frye on Jesus, the Discernment Artist.

***

Friend Nancy recently asked what I thought of Mere Churchianity. Answer: the book reflected my own views pretty precisely, but expressed those views with greater clarity than I have ever been able to do. I loved it. I consider it important. Church people should read it.

***

I link to music a lot here, mostly because I'm always looking for good music online and because well, like a kid wearing a Led Zeppelin t-shirt, I think music is a way to get to know a person. And we all want to be known! Norman Cousins said, "The eternal quest of every individual is to shatter his loneliness." Note: "every individual." Social networking sites are inadequate here, but their popularity says something about our "quest."

A young man I know recently brought his white-haired grandmother to see the gallery display of antique maps where I work. The grandmother was just very happy to be out and about with her grandson. As they were leaving she said to me (with a sparkle in her eye), "It's not every day I get to go on a date with my favorite boyfriend!"

Contact is what everyone craves. This being with another. It is such a fine gift to give, this being with.

There are so many ways to feel isolated. You might have a condition that no one understands. You might have an accent or speech impediment that makes people always have to ask you say it again. You might simply know no one who thinks like you do, and you long for a little like-mindedness (it's really not such a selfish thing to long for . . . not necessarily).

When I feel this way, this since of isolation, of being far from others, my wife is the one who I go to. No one has more grace for me than she does. No one loves me more than she does. She is amazing.

These are more or less random thoughts. But it all started with a comment about music. Therefore, I leave you with two songs about loneliness:

Did Trouble Me

Tom Jones. Showing the youngsters how it's done.

Friday Report

So it's Friday, and I've got the day off! Doing some laundry, washing some dishes, vacuuming the rather gritty carpet, and then heading out on my bike for a day of adventure. Taking the Eastern Trail, which passes very close to my house, out to Pine Point. Meanwhile, enjoy some of the leaders in the current string band revival:

The Elephant Keeper

Just finished reading The Elephant Keeper, by Christopher Nicholson. I enjoyed this one about as much as any novel I've read in the past few years.

It's an elegy to an 18th century friendship between, well, a man and an elephant. Nicholson has a deft touch, maintaining a tone of humility and subdued awe on the part of the 1st person narrative. There is not much of a story here, so if an intriguing plot is what you're after, this book is not for you. The final chapter gave me a start, and I thought for a moment Nicholson had misstepped, but in fact the ending here is perfect. A lovely book.

The Week in Music

I've been interested in the folk revival of the late 50s for a long time. Last week I watched a film about the Kingston Trio, who occupied the more "mainstream" or "pop" end of that spectrum.

Doing a little YouTube searching afterward, I rediscovered the Chad Mitchell Trio. Here's a great example of their work (featuring a young Roger McGuinn--later a founding member of The Byrds--on guitar and banjo):



This week I also watched a couple of episodes of Pete Seeger's old TV program, Rainbow Quest. This was a rather amazing show, made on a shoestring budget in the mid-60s, and showcasing folk music from all over the world. His lineup of guests amounted to a who's who of folk, blues, and "old time" music and in my opinion stands out in television history. Perhaps the following clip is not exactly the best example of the show's quality, but it sure cracked me up. Meet Cousin Emmy ("the first hillbilly to own a Cadillac"):



Anyway, not wanting to finish this music post on a piece of utter fluff, here's something from a contemporary British band associated with something of a folk revival these days, Mumford and Sons:

I think it's safe to say I'm taking some time off. I'll be back blogging in a week or two.

Songwriters: Rodney Crowell

Yeah, he's a good one. He's written more extraordinary songs than most. This one is my favorite. Crowell is a minimalist at heart--carefully selecting a few images and phrases to provoke a world, and a life, in the minds of his listeners. He's the finest Texas poet I know. This is a beautiful (but not pretty) and deeply moving portrait of a family.

Songwriters: Townes van Zandt

I think I'm going to do some frequent music posts for the next week or two. I've thought for a long time I might pay tribute to some of my favorite songwriters, but I haven't got so far as to actually make a list of them. Anyway, I stumbled across this Townes van Zandt video this morning. Townes was most famous for "Poncho and Lefty," covered by Merle Haggard and many others. For that song alone he might make my top ten! The song below is "Tecumseh Valley," and it's a sad one (sad and Townes definitely go together). A typical heart-breaking country ballad with sweet harmonies from Nanci Griffith, it's a classic example of Townes' style.

Why I Love The Band

Over the weekend I went to see a "tribute band" who perform only the music of great 'sixties and 'seventies rock band known simply as The Band. It was a good show and a loving tribute. The audience was an interesting mix of old-timers like myself and a surprising number of young folks who clearly knew and loved the classic music. Anyway, I should mention that the name of the tribute band was The THE BAND Band. What else?

Their mission is to "present the music of The Band in a manner true to its original style and form, evoking the sound and the spirit of their live performances." They did just that. Seeing their show reminded me of how much I love The Band. I've been singing their songs all weekend.
I post a lot of music to this blog, but I have not written about music much. I thought I'd change things up a bit today by putting in words just why I love The Band and why I think they were the greatest rock and roll ensemble ever. But first, give a listen:



I have always said that I like music that shows its roots, and Ophelia is a good example of that. The Band came along when psychedelic pop was reigning on the one hand, while self-involved singer-songwriters held forth on the other, and in the midst of all this The Band produced a body of work that was as unpretentious as a pair of muddy boots. Their music was made of stories, characters, blues riffs, dance hall riffs, circus calliope riffs, Beat poetry, and passionate harmonies. Mostly Canadians, they dragged rock and roll kicking and screaming back to its original impulses, back to its Delta birthlplace.



But that's not all. They were, for a time, a remarkably co-operative band, creating ensemble music that did not feature a "star" front man. The lead singer might be Levon on one verse, bassist Rick Danko on another, and keyboardist Richard Manuel on yet another. They didn't just play music, they truly "shared" it.



"The Weight" might have been the first "Band song" I ever heard, but it wasn't their version. It was Aretha Franklin's amazing rendition that caught my attention at the age of fourteen or so. By the way, I also love this string band version by Gillian Welch and Dave Rawlings, on stage with Old Crow Medicine Show.

Another unique characteristic of The Band's music was its persistent sense of the sheer drama of the human condition. American and Canadian history informs some of their best music. This sort of thing is common enough in country music, where there has always been a strong sense of passing on an inheritance of music and stories, generation to generation. The Band re-enlivened that same sensibility in rock and roll, with songs like Evangeline, The Night they Drove Old Dixie Down, and Acadian Driftwood. The first of these is a kind of Mississippi riverboat waltz, beautifully staged by Martin Scrocese for The Last Waltz:



Acadian Driftwood is in my opinion one of the highpoints of The Band's songbook. It is sung convincingly from the very inside of the story, a story that is still too little known outside of Canada.



Well, this post is getting awfully long, but I can't end my personal tribute to The Band without featuring the great Rick Danko. His vocals had a sweet but weary innocence. I love his spirit.



Over the years I've been rather amazed at how many great musical artists who came of age in the late sixties would later say they were greatly influenced by The Band, and especially their groundbreaking album, Music from Big Pink. Early Elton John, Van Morrison, Eric Clapton, EmmyLou Harris, and many others. Their songs have been covered many times with great love and respect.

Creativity is the great culture-wide churning of everything that has been along with our primal longings and highest visions for the future, all somehow filtered, distilled, refined, into the narrow frame of a song, a story, a picture, a combination of words, a riff, that somehow creates in itself a kind of still moment, a place of fleeting balance.

They were Rick Danko, Robbie Robertson, Richard Manuel, Garth Hudson, and Levon Helm. The were The Band.

"Worthy"

Eugene Peterson begins his exploration of Paul's letter to the Ephesians (in Practice Resurrection) with an investigation of the "hinge" upon which the whole letter pivots, Eph. 4:1. He writes:

Everything in Paul's letter [to the Ephesians] is designed to keep God's calling (chapter 1-3) and our walking (chapters 4-6) in equilibrium. We cannot measure ourselves by examining ourselves in terms of ourselves, by evaluating ourselves against a non-relational abstraction such as "human potential." Nor can we abstract God into an impersonal "truth" apart from our hearing and responding apart from our hearing and responding to the words he uses to call us into life, into holiness, into relationship. We can understand neither God nor ourselves in any living, adequate, and mature way that is an impersonal, non-relational way. When God's calling and our walking fit, we are growing up in Christ.

God calls; we walk.

[from page 32 of Practice Resurrection]

More Church Notes

Yesterday's post prompted a reader (the reader?) to ask, well, what kind of church would you really like? Good question. In order of importance (more or less):

1) The preaching of Christ/the Gospel and its application to everyday life. Preaching that helps us understand our place in the redemptive purposes of God for our neighborhood, circle of friends, workplace, etc.

2) Prayer . . . frequent, natural, and friendly (as opposed to frequent oratorical grandstanding).

3) Mostly quiet. Quit with the rock concert every Sunday morning. When the community is at worship, you hear lots of voices raised, not much amped up strumming by the cool cats on stage.

a) Nix the stage.

4) Not a place, a people. Therefore, probably no permanent building. [Ah, but the people . . . they're clearly being built together into a spiritual house.]

5) In the neighborhood. Or at least in the town in which I live. Preferably, the wife and I can ride our bikes there in the summertime. [Therefore, it shouldn't be at the top of a steep hill.]

6) No implicit dress-code.

7) Chirstianese is kept to a minimum, and resorted to only with accompanying air-quotes, indicating you know it sounds rather silly. [Just kidding about the air-quotes!]

8) Membership? Don't get me started.

Church Choices

I want to get back to church one of these days. The thought stays with me, nags at me. I don't see myself in this church-free existence the rest of my days. What I don't want to do is search high and low for "the right church." And if and when I do start dropping into some church on a regular basis, I won't be eager to "join," and I will be one of those "low commitment" members who doesn't get involved (church leaders, you may now blanche with indignation). We'll take frequent Sundays off just to show 'em who's boss!

I have, as I see it, about three options.

1) Back to the Vineyard. Main reason to go back: lots of people we know. Not a bad reason, that. Opportunity for community, high. Opportunity for annoyance, also high. A hoopla-driven church, with lots of loud music and excitement. M'wife loves the worship there, not so much the other stuff. But we have many friends there. That could be key.

2) Missio Dei. A fine church, in my opinion, even if they do sing U2 songs as worship. That doesn't annoy me all that much (just a wee bit, not being a U2 fan), but it points to a cultural divide of sorts between, well, us and them. Practically everybody in that church is 20-something or thirty-ish. In other words, my kids' generation. I attended for a few months and never really connected with anyone. Nobody's fault, I'm not saying they're not friendly there and all that, but we just didn't click with anyone (then again, maybe I'm just not the clicking type!). But I do like the preaching a lot. And meeting in a school cafeteria suits me. On the other hand, m'wife really doesn't like the worship there at all. I call it refreshingly unprofessional.

Neither of these churches is actually in my neighborhood. Choice (3) is to simply attend something close by. This options appeals to me some. I'm thinking maybe the Baptist institution down the street. People wear ties there. Weird, that. But presumably they're big on Jesus. That would be the clincher.

So there are the choices, as I see it. Some days I lean toward one option, other days to another. We're not in a hurry, and will probably just take the summer off. That's the inclination of the Lovely L, and mine as well. But meanwhile I'm thinking about it all the time. Waiting for the Aha! moment, I guess.