Saturday, July 27, 2013
Gray
It didn’t take much more than the initial crack of the sliding glass door to wake me. One of the perks of being a light sleeper I suppose. “It’s 7am, Monday morning boys” He said with a smirk, hands clasped in front of his face like one of those praying hand tattoos with the rosary beads. “Where are my songs?”
A strange request at a quiet hour on a peaceful island off the coast of cape cod. My roommate and I caught eyes across the room with a subtle amount of panic. Mondays were the day our writing assignments were do. I had started a song the night before but it wasn’t quite done, in fact that particular song wouldn’t truly be finished until years later. But we jumped out of bed in a frenzy throwing jeans on and grabbing hoodies to brave the cold morning air.
“Boys”, he said, “Relax I’m just messing with you. Chris, why don’t we take a walk.” “J, stop by the house around 3 and show me what you’re working on.”
Chris had been struggling with depression for most of the semester and Will would often meet up in the morning to get Chris out of bed, listen to his struggle and simply be a friend.
Will was our song writing coach, he was always pushing us to dig deeper, feel stronger, think harder, be more articulate or less poetic or more hooky. He was an honest mix of firm and gracious. It was a strange season living on that island, I’ve lost touch with most of the other students from that semester. It’s funny you always think you’ll be friends forever when you go through such a unique experience with people. Five months living communally on a tiny New England treasure with 30 strangers that become family and unfortunately become strangers once again.
I did stop by Wills cabin around 3 that day. He was there with his wife Angie. She brought some fresh fruit and cookies if memory serves me correct. “So what’s this song?” When I showed up for the program I was a musical mess. I had no idea who I was or what I sounded like. Most of my songs were knock offs of whatever artist I was listening to the most that week. I asked Will if he had a keyboard or piano. He looked a bit puzzled, you see I’m not much of a piano player. But he pointed upstairs to a small piano in the loft that overlooked the living room. “May I use it?”
I climbed the stairs a bit nervously, this song was the most honest I’d been lyrically all semester. It was about a girl who was also a student. A girl I had all but fallen in love with.
I finished the song and came back down stairs for my evaluation. Will leaned forward with that same smile I had seen earlier that day and said, “What’s that song called?
“Lockdown I said”
“J. Morris has found his sound!” “That’s you man that’s what I’ve been waiting for.”
Maybe it was luck or magic or heartache that brought that song to me I’m not sure. For an artist finding your sound is like coming of age. Honestly I’ve struggled for 7 years to find that same magic and only in the last 10 months do I feel like I’ve honestly been able to truly uncover it.
I’ve seen Will a handful of times since we all left that place. Once in LA and a few times here in Nashville. We catch up and talk about music and faith and food. Sometimes the line between friend and mentor would be blurrier than others. I liked those times. A few months ago I was in LA and sent will a message, hoping to connect. His response, “Hey thanks for reaching out! We have to play everything by ear because of my sickness but please message us when you are here”
I didn’t realize it at the time but Will was very sick. Today my mentor, my friend Will Gray is no longer suffering. His battle with cancer is over. For this I am grateful. With hands clasped and eyes upward I ask God to comfort the grieving loved ones that carry on here without him. I among many many others will miss you dearly Mr. Gray.
Gray
It didn’t take much more than the initial crack of the sliding glass door to wake me. One of the perks of being a light sleeper I suppose. “It’s 7am, Monday morning boys” He said with a smirk, hands clasped in front of his face like one of those praying hand tattoos with the rosary beads. “Where are my songs?”
A strange request at a quiet hour on a peaceful island of the coast of cape cod. My roommate and I caught eyes across the room with a subtle amount of panic. Mondays were the day our writing assignments were do. I had started a song the night before but it wasn’t quite done, in fact that particular song wouldn’t truly be finished until years later. But we jumped out of bed in a frenzy throwing jeans on and grabbing hoodies to brave the cold morning air.
“Boys”, he said, “Relax I’m just messing with you. Chris, why don’t we take a walk.” “J, stop by the house around 3 and show me what you’re working on.”
Chris had been struggling with depression for most of the semester and Will would often meet up in the morning to get Chris out of bed, listen to his struggle and simply be a friend.
Will was our song writing coach, he was always pushing us to dig deeper, feel stronger, think harder, be more articulate or less poetic or more hooky. He was an honest mix of firm and gracious. It was a strange season living on that island, I’ve lost touch with most of the other students from that semester. It’s funny you always think you’ll be friends forever when you go through such a unique experience with people. Five months living communally on a tiny New England treasure with 30 strangers that become family and unfortunately become strangers once again.
I did stop by Wills cabin around 3 that day. He was there with his wife Angie. She brought some fresh fruit and cookies if memory serves me correct. “So what’s this song?” When I showed up for the program I was a musical mess. I had no idea who I was or what I sounded like. Most of my songs were knock offs of whatever artist I was listening to the most that week. I asked Will if he had a keyboard or piano. He looked a bit puzzled, you see I’m not much of a piano player. But he pointed upstairs to a small piano in the loft that overlooked the living room. “May I use it?”
I climbed the stairs a bit nervously, this song was the most honest I’d been lyrically all semester. It was about a girl who was also a student. A girl I had all but fallen in love with.
I finished the song and came back down stairs for my evaluation. Will leaned forward with that same smile I had seen earlier that day and said, “What’s that song called?
“Lockdown I said”
“J. Morris has found his sound!” “That’s you man that’s what I’ve been waiting for.”
Maybe it was luck or magic or heartache that brought that song to me I’m not sure. For an artist finding your sound is like coming of age. Honestly I’ve struggled for 7 years to find that same magic and only in the last 10 months do I feel like I’ve honestly been able to truly uncover it.
I’ve seen Will a handful of times since we all left that place. Once in LA and a few times here in Nashville. We catch up and talk about music and faith and food. Sometimes the line between friend and mentor would be blurrier than others. I liked those times. A few months ago I was in LA and sent will a message, hoping to connect. His response, “Hey thanks for reaching out! We have to play everything by ear because of my sickness but please message us when you are here”
I didn’t realize it at the time but Will was very sick. Today my mentor, my friend Will Gray is no longer suffering. His battle with cancer is over. For this I am grateful. With hands clasped and eyes upward I ask God to Acomfort the grieving loved ones that carry on here without him. I among many many others will miss you dearly Mr. Gray.
Monday, June 06, 2011
an old pair of new shoes.
Saturday, June 04, 2011
What Child Abuse Taught Me About God's Favor
...and other benefits of skipping 3rd Grade.
Aaron moved in next door the summer after my second grade year. On a street full of houses mine was the last one on the right, and on the other side of our fence was a small apartment building. It was a strange location for apartments but as a kid those ugly brown buildings just held significance as the place where my best friend slept when he wasn’t at my house. Aaron’s mom had just gone through a divorce and was trying to get back on her feet. She and my mom became close as well.
The year my mother started homeschooling me I would have been going into third grade. A few other moms from church were homeschooling their children and convinced her to jump on the band wagon. But she didn’t just start teaching me; she started homeschooling Aaron as well. Since Aaron was a year older and starting 4th grade my mother decided third grade wasn’t that important and started me in fourth as well.
Homeschooling with my mom, who had been diagnosed with Lupus and Fibromyalgia a few years earlier, was a mixed bag. Some days she’d be in full teacher mode. Other days looked more like a list of assignments in the morning, lunch in the afternoon, and the rest of the day playing with action figures and reading comic books until Aaron’s mom picked him up after work. I liked those days better.
Aaron was not the easiest best friend to have. He was taller than me, a better drawer than me, had more girls who liked him than me and he “accidentally” broke my ankle... twice. Also there were the 11 stitches on the top of my head thanks to Aaron and an incident with a large icicle. Come to think of it I’m lucky to be alive. Ironically I think we were both a little jealous of each other. My mom had just re-married so I had a Dad, and a house, and a mom who didn’t beat me.
I remember quite vividly an afternoon at Aaron's’ apartment, he got in trouble for mouthing off to his mom and she got so angry she smacked him across the face with a pair of scissors. As a kid you don’t know what to do in those situations. I remember being pretty scared. A few weeks later he lied to my mom about something and she called him out on it. She told him she would have to tell his mom and he’d have to write out I will not tell lies to Mrs. Morris on paper a million times (okay it was probably only a hundred but when you’re in third fourth grade it’s the same thing). I was so afraid of his mom’s anger and punishment that I begged my mom to let me take the blame. We hadn’t been going to church that long but I threw out some beginner Sunday School jargon about grace and Jesus taking our punishment.
So I did. I wrote until my arm felt like it was going to fall off and then I wrote some more ... I will not lie to Mrs. Morris. And, yes, I wrote it out as if I were Aaron, which might have been the hardest part because for those few hours she wasn’t my mom. She was “Mrs. Morris”. Later in life she told me how hard it was to not just let me go and excuse the whole exercise. I wish I could say there were never times later that year when I was getting in trouble that I wished he’d stepped in and done the same for me ... or when he “accidentally” shot me in the arm with is Blow Dart Gun I didn’t think, “Seriously?! After all I’ve done for you?”
Then again I was 9.
What I did for Aaron had nothing to do with how nice he was to me, or how cool I thought he was. I mean, yes, I looked up to him; but in that moment it was my nine year old understanding of anger and pain that made me want to step in and rescue him. I had seen firsthand what would happen if his mom got upset and so it was compassion - not his height, or drawing skills, or luck with the ladies - that was at the heart of me taking the fall for my friend.
Isn't that what the Gospel is all about?" Jesus taking the fall for us? The fall of Adam, the fall of man, of humanity! Not because of how much he likes us or how cool we are (though He is fond of us!) but simply because He is good. He LOVES us, wants to be reconciled with us, and doesn't want to see us suffer... “That NONE should perish.”
Things with work have been pretty rough lately. Finances have been tight. And I've been thinking a lot about favor; about how growing up I heard that if God liked you enough he’d give you favor and money and nice cars. Sometimes when work gets slow I wonder if maybe God just doesn't like me or something.
I know, technically, that's not true but it's sort of this subtle conditioning that I have to fight against.
The more I read and study the more I wonder if favor is less about God building us up and setting us on some high pedestal and more about grace, and coming down to walk along side us, making way for redemption, loving us. I was looking at one of the words for “favor” specifically in Proverbs 3:3-4
From the Greek and Hebrew www.biblos.com
To bend or stoop in kindness to an inferior...which reminded me of this...Philippians 2
I wonder if it's possible that I've spent all these years praying for the "Favor" of God when maybe I've had it all along.
What if it was that simple? What if the favor of God was simply the cross, and redemption, and the humility of a king being emptied that our hearts might be filled. I wonder if the fullness of God’s favor comes from unity and selflessness. Maybe favor is just the grace to keep loving God and loving others.
I once had someone pray over me and they said they felt like God was saying I was going to wear nice clothes and drive nice cars, and that He was going to use me to bring millions of dollars into the kingdom while having one foot in the ministry and one foot in the business world. I used to get frustrated when my bank account would be in the negative and I’d say to God (sarcastically), “where are those millions you promised?!?” And who knows? Someday I might look back and find that the old man who prayed for me was right. But the truth is, the balance in my bank account has nothing to do with how much God loves me.
Am I blessed and highly favored? Let me answer the question with a question. Did Jesus rise again?
Aaron moved in next door the summer after my second grade year. On a street full of houses mine was the last one on the right, and on the other side of our fence was a small apartment building. It was a strange location for apartments but as a kid those ugly brown buildings just held significance as the place where my best friend slept when he wasn’t at my house. Aaron’s mom had just gone through a divorce and was trying to get back on her feet. She and my mom became close as well.
The year my mother started homeschooling me I would have been going into third grade. A few other moms from church were homeschooling their children and convinced her to jump on the band wagon. But she didn’t just start teaching me; she started homeschooling Aaron as well. Since Aaron was a year older and starting 4th grade my mother decided third grade wasn’t that important and started me in fourth as well.
Homeschooling with my mom, who had been diagnosed with Lupus and Fibromyalgia a few years earlier, was a mixed bag. Some days she’d be in full teacher mode. Other days looked more like a list of assignments in the morning, lunch in the afternoon, and the rest of the day playing with action figures and reading comic books until Aaron’s mom picked him up after work. I liked those days better.
Aaron was not the easiest best friend to have. He was taller than me, a better drawer than me, had more girls who liked him than me and he “accidentally” broke my ankle... twice. Also there were the 11 stitches on the top of my head thanks to Aaron and an incident with a large icicle. Come to think of it I’m lucky to be alive. Ironically I think we were both a little jealous of each other. My mom had just re-married so I had a Dad, and a house, and a mom who didn’t beat me.
I remember quite vividly an afternoon at Aaron's’ apartment, he got in trouble for mouthing off to his mom and she got so angry she smacked him across the face with a pair of scissors. As a kid you don’t know what to do in those situations. I remember being pretty scared. A few weeks later he lied to my mom about something and she called him out on it. She told him she would have to tell his mom and he’d have to write out I will not tell lies to Mrs. Morris on paper a million times (okay it was probably only a hundred but when you’re in third fourth grade it’s the same thing). I was so afraid of his mom’s anger and punishment that I begged my mom to let me take the blame. We hadn’t been going to church that long but I threw out some beginner Sunday School jargon about grace and Jesus taking our punishment.
So I did. I wrote until my arm felt like it was going to fall off and then I wrote some more ... I will not lie to Mrs. Morris. And, yes, I wrote it out as if I were Aaron, which might have been the hardest part because for those few hours she wasn’t my mom. She was “Mrs. Morris”. Later in life she told me how hard it was to not just let me go and excuse the whole exercise. I wish I could say there were never times later that year when I was getting in trouble that I wished he’d stepped in and done the same for me ... or when he “accidentally” shot me in the arm with is Blow Dart Gun I didn’t think, “Seriously?! After all I’ve done for you?”
Then again I was 9.
What I did for Aaron had nothing to do with how nice he was to me, or how cool I thought he was. I mean, yes, I looked up to him; but in that moment it was my nine year old understanding of anger and pain that made me want to step in and rescue him. I had seen firsthand what would happen if his mom got upset and so it was compassion - not his height, or drawing skills, or luck with the ladies - that was at the heart of me taking the fall for my friend.
Isn't that what the Gospel is all about?" Jesus taking the fall for us? The fall of Adam, the fall of man, of humanity! Not because of how much he likes us or how cool we are (though He is fond of us!) but simply because He is good. He LOVES us, wants to be reconciled with us, and doesn't want to see us suffer... “That NONE should perish.”
Things with work have been pretty rough lately. Finances have been tight. And I've been thinking a lot about favor; about how growing up I heard that if God liked you enough he’d give you favor and money and nice cars. Sometimes when work gets slow I wonder if maybe God just doesn't like me or something.
I know, technically, that's not true but it's sort of this subtle conditioning that I have to fight against.
The more I read and study the more I wonder if favor is less about God building us up and setting us on some high pedestal and more about grace, and coming down to walk along side us, making way for redemption, loving us. I was looking at one of the words for “favor” specifically in Proverbs 3:3-4
3Do not let kindness and truth leave you;
Bind them around your neck,
Write them on the tablet of your heart.
4So you will find favor and good repute
In the sight of God and man.
From the Greek and Hebrew www.biblos.com
favor gracious, pleasant, precious, well-favored
From chanan; graciousness, i.e. Subjective (kindness, favor) or objective (beauty) -- favour, grace(-ious), pleasant, precious, (well-)favoured. see HEBREW chanan beseech, fair, be, find, show favorable, be deal, give, grant graciously
A primitive root (compare chanah); properly, to bend or stoop in kindness to an inferior; to favor, bestow; causatively to implore (i.e. Move to favor by petition) -- beseech, X fair, (be, find, shew) favour(-able), be (deal, give, grant (gracious(-ly), intreat, (be) merciful, have (shew) mercy (on, upon), have pity upon, pray, make supplication, X very.
see HEBREW chanah
To bend or stoop in kindness to an inferior...which reminded me of this...Philippians 2
3Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves; 4do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others. 5Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus, 6who, although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped,7but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men.8Being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.
What if it was that simple? What if the favor of God was simply the cross, and redemption, and the humility of a king being emptied that our hearts might be filled. I wonder if the fullness of God’s favor comes from unity and selflessness. Maybe favor is just the grace to keep loving God and loving others.
I once had someone pray over me and they said they felt like God was saying I was going to wear nice clothes and drive nice cars, and that He was going to use me to bring millions of dollars into the kingdom while having one foot in the ministry and one foot in the business world. I used to get frustrated when my bank account would be in the negative and I’d say to God (sarcastically), “where are those millions you promised?!?” And who knows? Someday I might look back and find that the old man who prayed for me was right. But the truth is, the balance in my bank account has nothing to do with how much God loves me.
Am I blessed and highly favored? Let me answer the question with a question. Did Jesus rise again?
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
What I learned about the trinity from breathing.
I’ve been thinking about the trinity lately; about how I’m not sure if it’s really like an egg or an apple or water/ice/steam. Isn’t part of the beauty of God the fact that He’s a mystery? Let me ask the question in much less spiritual way. If the last scene of INCEPTION ended any differently would it have been as good of a movie? There’s something frustratingly beautiful about the unresolved tension of the unknown.
There is a more full explanation of the following quote toward the end of this video start 7:45 - the end.
The Jewish name for God – Yahweh – was not spoken, but breathed.
Its correct pronunciation is an attempt to imitate the sound of
inhalation and exhalation. We do that every moment: our first and
last word as we enter and leave the world.
Richard Rohr
In Genesis we read the creation story and see the spirit moving across the face of the waters. That word spirit is “Ruah” and it’s Greek equivelant is Pnuma” which means to breath, more specifically to blow. Which is what we see happening as life is breathed into Adam. And we have Jesus referred to the “word in the beginning, that became flesh” All three of these things are very much connected to the mouth.
Life is sustained by breathing in the essence of God; by inhaling and exhaling love.
The Holy Spirit is that exhaled wind breath that doesn’t just sustain but forms and shapes. And when breath and exhalation are mixed with sound it creates the essence of love in truth, the word clothed in humanity.
Definition for “VOICE” by Webster.
c : expiration of air with the vocal cords drawn close so as to vibrate audibly (as in uttering vowels and consonant sounds as \v\ or \z\)
Loving God and Loving others is like inhaling and exhaling. Jesus is simply the perfect example of how to breathe. To live is pray without ceasing.
Israel Redeemed -Isaiah;43
1 But now thus says Yahweh who created you, Jacob, and he who formed you, Israel: "Don't be afraid, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by your name. You are mine.
2 When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they will not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned, and flame will not scorch you.
There is a more full explanation of the following quote toward the end of this video start 7:45 - the end.
The Jewish name for God – Yahweh – was not spoken, but breathed.
Its correct pronunciation is an attempt to imitate the sound of
inhalation and exhalation. We do that every moment: our first and
last word as we enter and leave the world.
Richard Rohr
In Genesis we read the creation story and see the spirit moving across the face of the waters. That word spirit is “Ruah” and it’s Greek equivelant is Pnuma” which means to breath, more specifically to blow. Which is what we see happening as life is breathed into Adam. And we have Jesus referred to the “word in the beginning, that became flesh” All three of these things are very much connected to the mouth.
Life is sustained by breathing in the essence of God; by inhaling and exhaling love.
The Holy Spirit is that exhaled wind breath that doesn’t just sustain but forms and shapes. And when breath and exhalation are mixed with sound it creates the essence of love in truth, the word clothed in humanity.
Definition for “VOICE” by Webster.
c : expiration of air with the vocal cords drawn close so as to vibrate audibly (as in uttering vowels and consonant sounds as \v\ or \z\)
Loving God and Loving others is like inhaling and exhaling. Jesus is simply the perfect example of how to breathe. To live is pray without ceasing.
Israel Redeemed -Isaiah;43
1 But now thus says Yahweh who created you, Jacob, and he who formed you, Israel: "Don't be afraid, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by your name. You are mine.
2 When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they will not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned, and flame will not scorch you.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Babies on planes that teach me about Jesus.
"Hands"
I was sitting on the plane on my way to Dallas, next to a single mom who was visibly concerned that her child was going to be disruptive over our next 90 mins in the air together. Apparently the previous leg of the trip was quite rough for the young one. That’s in the top five worst air travel scenarios right?
- Sitting next to a screaming 2 year old.
- Sitting between two people who just asked for seat belt extensions.
- Having a connecting flight that leaves 10 mins after the first one landed late and having to sprint to concourse double Q.
- Drawing the losing straw in the TSA pat down/naked x-ray game
- Being stuck in Baltimore for 3 days because of a snow storm.
But I was prepared; I had my new smart phone loaded with some movies to watch and the worlds largest set of noise canceling headphones. So imagine my surprise when the potential noise maker started making oogley eyes at me. Her mom held her close and the little baby girl started petting my arm, I was sort of distracted at first by my phone cinema. But she fell asleep, head on her moms chest, hand on my arm. I don’t think the mom even noticed and I honestly thought it was kind of cute.
We all do this sometimes, instinctively, we reach out somewhat blindly for comfort, to feel connected, to feel love. It’s not always a healthy or wise endeavor. It can get twisted and show up between adults in the form of misappropriated sexual activity, competitiveness, fame mongering and a number of other self centered outcries. The “me monster” takes over and we lose ourselves.
But deeper than all of that there is something good and right and true. Something waiting to be redeemed. An opportunity to respond to the kingdom and interact with the Gospel.
LUKE 4:40 English Standard Version (©2001)
Now when the sun was setting, all those who had any who were sick with various diseases brought them to him, and he laid his hands on every one of them and healed them.
Jesus' touch, His hands, were an instrument of wellness. God give me the grace and let my hands be like His. When my neighbor, friend, and stranger reach out, out of their brokenness and into mine, may they be met with redemption, restoration, and a loving grace that is covered and anointed in the very essence of Jesus. Jesus whose hands not only healed the sick, but also took nails and flowed blood so that none should perish.
Oh church let’s not forget that we are named as the very same; Hands of redemption. Broken that redemption may abound. Though the idea of being the "hands and feet of God" is not a direct bible quotation, we are the Embodiment of Jesus the Christ.
A prayer of St.Teresa of Avila
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet, on earth but yours.
Your are the eyes through which He looks
Compassion on this world
Yours are the feet
With which He walks to do good.
Your are the hands
With which He blesses all the world
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet.
Yours are the eyes, you are His body.
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours
Yours are the eyes, through which He Looks
compassion on the world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.
Thursday, May 05, 2011
Who are YOU?
IDENTITY THEFT & SELF AWARENESS
I'd like to start a conversation; with a question. What is it that defines us?
For some it's work, faith, community, and so on. I'm not so much interested in the the "right" answer
as I am in digging into the honest tension of identity.
For those of you who are believers, that is you maintain some level of personal relationship with God. I'd like to take the conversation just a bit deeper and ask.
1. What is your view of your spiritual identity and how did you arrive there?
2. what makes up the you underneath
There are lots of tools out there like "love languages", "strengths finders", core values, spiritual gifts, and others. Have you found any of these helpful, and in what ways? Maybe you have a story of a moment when your identity became solidified in a tangible way. A mission trip that changed you or a family tragedy.
Maybe your not a believer in the evangelical sense. What is it that drives you, motivates you, gives you purpose?
My interest is not in debate, but rather in honest dialogue. My curiosity is in the human spirit and what brings it to life. What does the journey look like, what is the arc of the narrative of personal development? How self aware are you and why?
What are the thieves of substance that rob us of who we are and who we are designed to be?
J.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Hipsters, E-Harmony, and Why You Should Date God
Spiritual Truths from Online Dating
Going to see live music is just part of the fabric of life in Nashville. At one point, while I was trying to sell myself as a music producer I was getting 6-10 show invites a week in my inbox. Going to all the shows is financial suicide; death by cover charge and PBR. But the night I met Alex and Rachel I was out to see a close friend of mine play drums with his new band. “The End” is an interesting little joint. It has all the trappings of a dive bar; the dim lighting, the poster-littered walls, and the big ole’ sound guy who’s been there since country was cool the first time. That particular night it seemed like all of the hipsters were in a swank match to see who could have the skinnier jeans and the more artsy fedora. The room felt like a Hollywood caricature of the Nashville Scene. Like some director filled the room with pretty people straight out of an urban outfitters catalogue. I remember thinking, “Where are all of these people in real life? I never see them out in the wild”.
Alex and Rachel were one of those unbelievably good looking couples. We began chatting while the stage was being reset for the next band. There was small talk for a bit and then I happened to ask how the two of them met.
Going to see live music is just part of the fabric of life in Nashville. At one point, while I was trying to sell myself as a music producer I was getting 6-10 show invites a week in my inbox. Going to all the shows is financial suicide; death by cover charge and PBR. But the night I met Alex and Rachel I was out to see a close friend of mine play drums with his new band. “The End” is an interesting little joint. It has all the trappings of a dive bar; the dim lighting, the poster-littered walls, and the big ole’ sound guy who’s been there since country was cool the first time. That particular night it seemed like all of the hipsters were in a swank match to see who could have the skinnier jeans and the more artsy fedora. The room felt like a Hollywood caricature of the Nashville Scene. Like some director filled the room with pretty people straight out of an urban outfitters catalogue. I remember thinking, “Where are all of these people in real life? I never see them out in the wild”.
Alex and Rachel were one of those unbelievably good looking couples. We began chatting while the stage was being reset for the next band. There was small talk for a bit and then I happened to ask how the two of them met.
“E-harmony” Alex said.
I honestly thought he was joking at first but he went on to tell the story. Alex was new in town and didn’t know anyone. He signed up for the service and met Rachel just a couple weeks later. They were just friends at first but it quickly became something deeper. My conversation with the pretty hipster couple didn’t go much further, the next band came on and I left after their set.
Later that week, I received an email informing me I could make a profile and try a free weekend on one of the online dating sites. I gave it a shot. I went out with Erica, the feisty sarcastic hairdresser who was slightly less attractive than profile pictures lead me to believe; Angie, the nanny who tried to get me in bed after the first date; and Danielle, the bartender who would have been perfect if she knew as much about Jesus as she did about Jersey Shore. I decided three strikes were enough for me. That was the end of my online dating adventures.
The thing about the online approach is that while a profile page can give you a picture of someone, tell you about them, let you know how much you have in common; a profile is not in and of itself a relationship. It leaves much to be desired. The inflections of a voice, the gentle touch of their skin, the goodness in their eyes are the things you cannot experience from a website.
And so I ask this question. I wonder if Scripture is like God’s E-Harmony page to humanity. Move past the obvious irony and consider it for a moment. The written word gives us a picture of who God is, but it is not the relationship itself. It’s a starting point but not and end unto itself. John tells us the “Word” has existed since the beginning. It was the Word that brought creation to life and that same Word that became humanity and gave up His life to redeem the very creation He once formed. To “obey” the Word is to follow Christ. Not Just a historical figure but rather the essence of truth and love that was embodied in Jesus and has existed throughout time.
Later that week, I received an email informing me I could make a profile and try a free weekend on one of the online dating sites. I gave it a shot. I went out with Erica, the feisty sarcastic hairdresser who was slightly less attractive than profile pictures lead me to believe; Angie, the nanny who tried to get me in bed after the first date; and Danielle, the bartender who would have been perfect if she knew as much about Jesus as she did about Jersey Shore. I decided three strikes were enough for me. That was the end of my online dating adventures.
The thing about the online approach is that while a profile page can give you a picture of someone, tell you about them, let you know how much you have in common; a profile is not in and of itself a relationship. It leaves much to be desired. The inflections of a voice, the gentle touch of their skin, the goodness in their eyes are the things you cannot experience from a website.
And so I ask this question. I wonder if Scripture is like God’s E-Harmony page to humanity. Move past the obvious irony and consider it for a moment. The written word gives us a picture of who God is, but it is not the relationship itself. It’s a starting point but not and end unto itself. John tells us the “Word” has existed since the beginning. It was the Word that brought creation to life and that same Word that became humanity and gave up His life to redeem the very creation He once formed. To “obey” the Word is to follow Christ. Not Just a historical figure but rather the essence of truth and love that was embodied in Jesus and has existed throughout time.
Is the written Word profitable for doctrine and reproof and correction and instruction in righteousness? Yes. But I submit to you the idea that maybe we could view this written Word as a diving board into a deep pool of relationship. Forgive me for my harshness here but I am beginning to believe the reason we as believers strive so hard for dogma and doctrine is because the idea of a truly relational God by proxy of the Holy Spirit in our lives is scary.
Do you believe your God is big enough to care about you and your specific situation to speak to you in a real way? Is the Heavenly Father you pray to more than some cosmic pen pal who wrote us a letter 2000 years ago and hasn’t responded since because He assumes all we need to know is written in the first letter? I have a hard time believing that. Either God is alive and well and breathing and moving and desperately longing to have an intimate relationship with His beloved or He’s not.
The God I know is wildly imaginative, insatiably personal, eternally relational and in no way stoic, formulaic or mathematical. Do you want the 66 book e-harmony pocket edition Jesus or do you want the fullness? Brother, Sister, I implore you ... hear what I am saying. The Word of God is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path. All of it. So yes! Take in all that scripture has to offer. Let it be a firm foundation for your faith.
But honey there’s more.
So much more.
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