This man is telling most of the world how to live and think about God.

No, this isn't a reincarnation of legendary movie maker Fatty Arbuckle, it's the pope. I saw this man on the teevee while I was walking up some virtual stairs at the nonstop media-thon that is my local gym. He brings to mind the Queen of England: why is there no escape route planned for these powerful people? Why must they physically erode before the eyes of the world? Why must we all see his feeding tube, for crying out loud? It doesn't seem too humanitarian to me, that's all. Pity the man. Let him gracefully go away into eternity.

I'm amazed by the things we all mindlessly ingest and apply to our persons daily. They're telling us with a large degree of certainty that the aspartame we're all joyfully gobbling (and slurping... thanks RH) is killing us by degrees.
It's also commonly held that the aluminum in deoderant sticks, for instance, permeate the skin and heighten our amazing levels of American Toxicity (the name of my new album).

So what in the world is Shaving Cream, anyhow? I assume it was created because soap bubbles only did so much, and somebody saw an opportunity. I don't know the history of the product, but my guess is that it's some sort of petroleum by-product, which means I should smear it all over my head as soon as possible, and repeat usage daily. I did a little investigating (I'm not lazy, people.), by reading the ingredients on the can. You'd be amazed at what I discovered.

First of all, the number one ingredient is water, which shouldn't surprise anyone. Water is the number one ingredient in absolutely everything ever produced. But the number two ingredient (and this would round out the list of ingredients in shaving cream that I can confidently pronounce, which is a little nervous) is some kind of ACID. Yeah.

I don't monger fear, but just... be careful out there.

Friends, many of you will already be aware of this, but women are now wearing (giggle) PONCHOS around. I know. It's like a joke or something. This is a comment I'd have made in high school if a girl was dressed carelessly. "Well, Celeste, my goodness! Why don't you just throw on a PONCHO and call it a day!?" This fad is destined to last about 4 months.

With this development (I didn't say it was new! I didn't say it was new!), I have decided to simply say "I support women in all their enveavors" and cease trying to 'track' with them on some level.

Funny how traditions can be predicated on nothing.

Somehow, my wife and I got into this tradition where we buy one another dental products for Christmas. I know.


Remember that one rich kid that you knew in school who wore designer blue jeans and his mom drove a sports car, and that time you spend the night, he had an electric toothbrush and a pool table? Well, those toothbrushes aren't just for the rich anymore (the sports cars, yes. Still for the rich only.) Anyhow, I've given not-subtle hints to my wife that I like the cheapo electric toothbrushes that have become mainstream this last couple of years. I mean the $5 version that last approximately 5 weeks then die. This, to me, is a fun break from the monotony of having to brush my teeth analog-style, with the predictable push-pull sawing action.

So this past Christmas, Didi thinks she'll do me a big blessing and get me the suped-up $20 version, which will really bless me. Forget the fact that having a toothbrush where you can buy a new brush head and replace the batteries kind of screws up the novelty factor of the throwaway version. Forget it, I said. Forget it. DON'T forget, though, that a Jackson was paid for this thing, so it'll be expected to perform.

Two battery changes in (and it's still March! What do you think I'm made of, a lot of AAs?), and the batteries died on me tonight, leaving me to brush old-fashioned-y with this whiz-bang contraption in my hand. I mean, GIVE ME A BREAK. I can't afford to keep this thing in batteries! If you can't perform at a high level, CREST BRAND SPIN BRUSH PRODUCT, then stay in the kitchen, or on the porch... or something. Am I right?

Last night, in my Sit and Eat Hydrogenated Oils While Talking About the Good Book group, we ran across the electrifying story in John 9 where this yokel gets his blindness healed up, then gets nuts with enthusiasm about Jesus. I used to read about this guy, thinking about how he was such a gutsy witness for Jesus, and how he even stood up to the religious heavyweights of the day, who also had a lot of legal pull. Anyhow, I used to think, "Man! I want to be like this guy! I need more boldness! I'll take a stab at boldness, too!" This was a stupid idea; it led me to fly off half-cocked, speak my mind when my mind was fruitless, and just be a loudmouth. Pass.

What struck me last night was the fact that boldness came this guy's way simply because he'd had an undenyable experience with Jesus. He probably didn't think that anything he was saying or doing was "bold" in the least. He just recounted what'd just happened to him, and was unwilling for anybody else to say something untrue about his experience. Again, what appeared to be "boldness" or "conviction" was just reality to this guy. It wasn't that he gave some great, heroic effort; it was that he'd had a Life-Giver experience, and wouldn't back away from the greatness of that encounter.

Think again of the account of Peter and John in Acts 4: The rulers and leaders of the people "couldn't take their eyes off them--Peter and John standing there so confident, so sure of themselves! Their fascination deepened when they realized these two were laymen with no training in Scripture or fomal education. They recognized them as companions of Jesus..."

Where did this crazy boldness and confidence come from? These are blue collar guys, making speeches in front of the policymakers. They'd been with Jesus! And they were completely unwilling to back down from anybody who described their experience in false terms. This is all very instructive to me, who has always (again) wanted boldness and passion.

So boldness and passion are lousy goals in themselves, but they're natural consequences of receiving from Jesus. Isn't this interesting? Reminds me of a verse: "Seek first the Kingdom of God, and His righteousness. Then, all these other things will be added to you as well."

Let’s talk bodies. Doesn’t it suck that there could even BE a standard of beauty, like what I described below a couple of weeks ago? I’m certain that that idea of “iconic beauty” has only happened since mass communications have entered the picture. That’s extremely sad. Take noses, for example. Isn’t it ROBBERY (and I mean this in the full-blown, John 10:10 sense of the word) that somebody born with a big nose would see themselves as ugly or as less than because their flipping NOSE is a different shape than somebody else’s!? Isn’t that sad and pathetic? People are different, for God’s sake! We’re supposed to be! And it’s ALL beautiful (yes, Ronald)! Every size and shape of head, ear, hand, tummy, ankle, foot, rump, etc.—they’re all expressions of the breadth of the Father’s palette. We’re His art for goodness sake, are we not? I would be incensed if I wrote you a song, you changed one word, then ascribed it to yourself. You’d be totally disregarding my creativity, my authorship-- my gift.


Genesis 2:X God looked at what He’d made, and it was very good.

Flight review: United Airlines, Chicago O’Hare to Frankfurt, Germany:

Ladder 51 (or whatever number it was) and the Village were showing at the same time, which means that the terrible Joe Ackwin Phoenix (NOT his real name) was on two channels at once. Ugh. I opted for the Village, since I have friends who’re divided on the merit of the film. I don’t like Joe Ackwin, don’t like that guy with the big nose who was in The Pianist (a TREMENDOUS, MOVING film) (although, did I like seeing him play a retarded guy? Well yes, of course I did. I like anybody, pretty much, playing a retarded person. Have you seen The Other Sister? You should- it is great and will make you cry a good, wholesome cry.), and don’t much care for Sigourney Weaver. Always liked William Hurt, though, and am enchanted with the girl who plays Kitty on Arrested Development. Anyhow, the movie was a big shoulder shrug to me. I thought the whole thing seemed put on, so the big reveal that it’s set in modern times didn’t really do anything for me (this movie was such a non-event that nobody had ever revealed the big TWIST! to me). I did like the idea of some people making a primitive society, though—I thought that was a good idea. I don’t like Shamamananana as a person, from what I’ve seen, but I still say it was a good idea.

Now onto the fabulous bathrooms on the 777. They’re extremely well lit. I took a drink in there and just stood around in there a while. Unlike the commuter planes I seem to be on so often, I can actually stand right up in there while taking a whiz (this is a pleasure!). I kind of looked for blemishes in my skin (so much light! So easy to see!), worked on my bristlebrush hair, and looked in all the little compartments. It was great. Those bathrooms are NICE.

Bulkhead seats: legroom GOOD. Shoulder room TERRIBLE. I sat there trying to fold my deltoids into my sternum for 11 hours, like I farted in the middle of math class or something.

“Meat” option on the evening meal: YUM! It was brisket and taters, and there was a gravy that wouldn’t STOP! I usually avoid the dry, tasteless desserts on flights, but I hit that brownie too. Come on United! Cook it up for me!

On to my other great adventure of this trip: for the first time (I think) ever, and purely for the sake of experimentation, I tried out a sanitary paper seat cover, which is a staple of the nervous and Ever-Protected (I assume. Nobody will actually have this kind of discussion with me, so I speculate). This is a strange and disturbing invention. It makes me feel like I’m at the doctor’s office, which doesn’t exactly make me want to “get personal”. I always feel like I should be acting better at the doctor’s office—like I should’ve eaten more broccoli, should’ve avoided all ice cream, and eaten multivitamins as snack food. When it was time to end my visit to the on-flight apartment, I had to peel the paper seat away from my (skin) seat, which was unsavory, to be sure. It made me feel like what I had really just done was protect the seat from ME. I’m the oils-producing, bacteria-attracting, disease threatening origin.


Toilet seat covers. Pass.

Shane brings up a great point. Tomorrow, I am off to a place where the natives look like this:
Well, okay, this is a (young) artist's rendering. Here are actual photos of the peeps:
About the man and the kid in the river: I read that many people believe that bathing in freezing cold water is healthy and will help guard them against being cold.

The national dish is called Besbarmak, which literally means five fingers, describing the way it used to be eaten. It is a boiled dish with a base of broad noodles, potatoes and onions, topped with mutton. Kazakhs eat a variety of meat, including horsemeat. Bread must not be put upside down, nor put out in odd numbers as this means someone in the family has died. It is fed to animals rather than wasted. Kazakh hospitality is exceptional. The host is obliged to offer food and tea to each guest who comes to the door. Guests should accept, at the minimum, a piece of bread and two cups of tea, or the host will be offended. When a visitor arrives it is rude for the host to ask many questions. After the visitor has had refreshment and a rest, he then may tell his host whom he is, where he is from and where he is headed. Many people, especially the retired, are living in extreme poverty. For many, only the food grown at their dachas (garden plots) keeps them from hunger and some have been reduced to begging on the streets. High taxes and corruption inhibit the growth of new businesses which could improve the economy. The basic unit of traditional Kazakh society is the extended family called the ayul (camp). This is led by an Aksakal (white beard). Several ayuls form a zhuz (tribe) and all members claim descent from a common male ancestor, seven generations back. The tribes are divided among three Hordes: The Great Horde, the Central Horde, and the Minor Horde. Kazakhs believe they are all one family; so when two Kazakhs meet, their relationship will be established from their family trees straight away. Kazakhs practise Folk Islam, which is a mixture of Shamanism and Islam. Belief in the ‘evil eye’ is central to Folk Islam, and amulets are worn for protection. There are also many things Kazakhs practice or avoid for the fear of evil spirits. Despite all soviet efforts to curb these customs in the past, the Kazakhs have clung to them as symbols of their identity.

I am fascinated by these people, yet will probably have little interaction with Kazakhs. I'm going to spend time with 1) Baptist missionaries from all over the USA who've followed God to "the uttermost parts of the earth", who minister throughout the country. They get together once a year to pray, worship, celebrate, figure out what God's doing, etc. and 2) a group from Greenville, Texas, who're going to organize/lead this prayer retreat/conference.

Now you know all I do. Those of you who'll stand before God on my behalf can pray that 1) I will have discernment and know what God's saying to me. I feel that I am there to have pointed conversations as much as to lead worship. 2) I will act in authority and confidence, giving place to neither fear nor pride. 3) I will communicate love in a death-defying way. I feel that I will come against religion, heaviness/depression, the thought that God has left the building, and some fear. Love is a Person, and He will crush these mutated perverts like a bug. May God arise and His enemies be scattered. The hills melt like wax at the presence of the LORD of Love.

Thanks.

This post will complete the Religious Trilogy '05.

I kind of thought that we were supposed to have a multiple-pronged focus, as Christians. We should be worshipping a lot, and that should be a major focus, we should be loving other believers, and that should be a major focus, and we should be loving and serving the lost community at large, hoping that we can somehow love them so much that they will begin to trust and love us, too, and then we can share with them about Jesus. That should be a major focus. Maybe there were other prongs--those are the only ones I can think of just now.

Well, what has become abundantly clear to me is that we are to be People Of One Prong (POOPers). We poopers should pursue the heart of God. Alone. There is nothing else. My worship is a confession of my need for Him. My praise is a response for Him letting me get Him. My service is, again, only an avenue for getting Him. All my ministry--it is SO not for people--it is for Him. Paul said to Onesimus that he should be active in sharing his faith, NOT so that people might respond and turn to Jesus, but so that Onesimus would "understand every good thing [he has] in Christ" (Philemon 6).

Now, that's a horse of a different color, there. Paul seems to indicate that God whispers secrets about our identity in Jesus as we obey His directives. That makes sense. And I become a lot more inclined to obey if the lure isn't self-satisfaction, but rather intimacy with my Maker. He is what I'm after. I'm after the secrets He only tells to His close friends. Deuteronomy 29:29 is a verse that makes me tear up every time I hear it: "The secret things belong to the LORD. But the things revealed... ah, those things belong to US, and to our children... forever." I've not had many dreams in which God gave me specific verses, but God once gave me a dream in which He emphasized to me that Deuteronomy 34:10 is worth looking at. It says, "Since then, no prophet has risen in Israel like Moses, whom the LORD knew face to face." God is saying to us, "Wanna be like Moses? Wanna know me face to face? It will cost you what it cost him, and what it cost my Son: obedience, the subjugation of every other goal or pursuit, and the rejection of every false love you have ever known. But the offer is still on the table: If you seek me, I will let you find me." (that's Jeremiah 29)

Ezekiel was told, right at the outset, that his ministry would produce no change in people. Israel was never going to listen to him. His life would be a testament to you and me that no ministry or service is ever for the people--it's all for God. Their response is not our goal; it's not even our business. Our goal is God.

If this is the case then, like Jesus, we can walk away from ministry opportunities (Mark 1), if the Father is calling us somewhere else. Religion says "you always have to give more money". God says "give as much as you want, unless I speak into your spirit. Then give no more, less, etc. than I say." We walk by the Spirit of God. For by Him was everything made, and FOR HIM was everything made.

We will find ourselves only when we look in His heart.

This will make me sound like I'm spiritual or something. I'm certainly not, and I'm not trying to be. This is just me.

When I was in high school, I honestly wanted to be hot on God's trail. In my world, however, the only way I knew to do that was to be super involved at 'church' (this is what I'd been taught, you see: having a strong relationship with 'church'+doing what they say=strong relationship with Jesus). This produced two things in me: 1) an overdeveloped sense of my own shortcomings. I could list my failures in a heartbeat (this is something I still deal with, as if the point of the gospel is making Steven sin-free). I brooded over my own grossness ad naseum, having been trained to think that self-condemnation was somehow holy or humble. 2) an underdeveloped knowledge of God. I actually suggested to my youth minister that they teach us more about who God is, what He's like. I thought that maybe, if we could see Him as He is, we might become like Him (I John 3:2). I was told that what young people face is peer pressure, sexual pressure, and pressure to use drugs, so that's what we needed to address. I hated all that. I wasn't interested, even in the peer pressure that I faced. I wanted to know more about God. I see, now, that my youth leaders probably WERE sharing everything they knew about God, which was rules and morality.

That I John verse, along with verses like II Cor 3:18, seems to suggest that we DO, in fact, become like that which we behold. But that sin-consciousness junk produces--what else?--an unending loop of sin and frustration in us. This is gross, and there is nothing in this system itself that can deliver someone from its orbit.

The deal, man, is NOT how much evil you can get out of your life. The deal is getting more of God. Period. He is love, and His love is better than life. Psalm 63. If you pursue love, you will find life. Proverbs 21. You should live a life characterized by, more than anything else, love. Ephesians 5. You should make sure that you keep yourself in God's love. Jude 1. I was not taught to live in God's love. I was taught to keep a watch out for sin, then go after that sin, not God. This is bizarre when you think about it, and all it could ever produce is pride when you succeed and condemnation when you fail. Long term, we all fail.

Let's get back to that I John 3:2. I wish somebody had tattooed this on my Little Jesus-Lover Quiet Time Guide when I was a youngster. Let me put the whole thing out here, with my thoughts added in:

"Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known."
This right here is wonderful. We need to think of ourselves as children of God. That's foundational. THEN, we need to understand that it's God's right to define us, and expect Him to do so more and more as we walk with Him. He will tell us that we ARE things we never thought we could be, and that we're NOT things that we'd always assumed we were. What a great thing to know!
"But we know that when he appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is."
So that's the whole thing--staring at God, knowing that we'll become like what we stare at. People who behold God's glory become glorious (Moses, Jesus, John, Isaiah, etc. ...hello?). This was David's desire for his whole life (Ps 27).

I WANT TO SEE GOD FOR EXACTLY WHO HE IS, AND I UNDERSTAND THAT I WILL COME OUT DIFFERENT AFTER THE FACT.

John 17:3--this is life: knowing God.

Jesus is teaching us all about prayer. Check this out:

"Here's what I want you to do: Find a quiet, secluded place so you won't be tempted to role-play before God. Just be there as simply and honestly as you can manage. The focus will shift from you to God, and you will begin to sense his grace.
The world is full of so-called prayer warriors who are prayer-ignorant. They're full of formulas and programs and advice, peddling techniques for getting what you want from God. Don't fall for that nonsense. This is your Father you are dealing with, and he knows better than you what you need. With a God like this loving you, you can pray very simply. Like this:

   Father in heaven, reveal who you are. Set the world right; do what's best--as above, so below.
Keep us alive with three square meals. Keep us forgiven with you and forgiving others. Keep us safe from ourselves and the Devil.
You're in charge! You can do anything you want! You're ablaze in beauty!
Yes. Yes. Yes."

Yes. Yes. Yes. My favorite sentence in this hunk is "With a God like this loving you, you can pray very simply." The shocker about this famous prayer is that Jesus seems to be specifically teaching how to stop praying by rote, how to stop being automatic and robotic in our prayers. Yet many, many people have simply memorized Jesus' model prayer and made THAT into their prayer by rote! Amazing how endless the religious loops coil and coil over themself. Reminds me of a fowler's snare. The thing about religion is, the more you play along, the more it wraps around you and constricts the life out of you. I am much more interested in life than in religion. If you give $100, religion tells you you SHOULD'VE given $200. If you pray 10 minutes, religion tells you that if you were a REALLY good boy, you'd have prayed an hour. You should be helping people all the time. And you should be in your quiet place with God, interceding, all the time. And you should be actively sharing the gospel, all the time. It is a black hole of death, suffocation, false living, and God opposition. And religion CERTAINLY isn't confined to the church building. Religion presents itself in Christian bookstores, family gatherings, books and blogs, and all sorts of interpretations of the holy scriptures themselves. My only hope of escaping from the talons of this massive beast is the fact that I have a Shepherd, and He carries both a rod and a staff. He's ready to fight for me, and to help me escape from whatever trap I may have found myself in.

Psalm 124: "Praise be to the LORD, who has not let us be torn by their teeth. We have escaped like a bird out of the fowler's snare; the snare has been broken, and we have escaped. Our help is in the name of the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth."

I'll just admit it right here. I know that there are lots of things that could make this blog cooler, but 1) I'm a little nervous about screwing it up and ending up with bricks that should be muffins, and 2) it is Nerdy to supe up your blog.

So I will stay here in blue and orange dork corner. Farting.

Somebody tell me how you be a Professional Sport Fisherman. Somebody tell how you throw a rod and a reel and somebody says watching you do THAT is entertainment enough to pay you money to just keep doing it. Somebody tell me how fishing is a sport, and crocheting isn't. Somebody tell me how you be a Professional Sport Fisherman.

How.

Does this kid qualify?

I know this will serve as somewhat of a balancer for the silly post below about beauty (which would certainly qualify for rebuke according to the scriptures' repeated exhortations against 'foolish talk', like Ephesians 5:4 and 1 Peter 2:15), but I'm not writing it for that reason.

I simply want to suggest what a much more beautiful world this would be if everyone believed the simple truth that YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. Your Maker, Who is the One Who Assigns Value, says so. That's a pretty huge statement, there.

May we all be believers.

Anybody ever think much about that damned Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil?

Anybody ever think that most of religion is geared around trying to find out what's "good" and what's "evil", and that keeping his kiddos from ever thinking that way at all was a big deal to the Father?

Anybody ever consider that our only standard for whether something is Good or Evil should be whether or not it has the stamp of the Father on it, as opposed to whether it hurts, or makes people mad, or confuses everybody?

Anybody ever think that maybe too much information is possibly a BAD thing, and that if knowledge is power, and power corrupts, that we should tread lightly and cautiously in the information world?

Anybody ever consider how technology, which drives so much of modern society, is about limitless knowledge and memory?

And has anybody ever considered what my friend Dave suggests, that the below computer corporation's logo is one of the dirtiest, most heinous symbols we regard, on a par with any pentogram?

Here's what I would like: I would like for some engineer (I nominate Bao Hoang) to produce some kind of formula for beauty, where traits like long-ness or squat-ness of head is accounted for, the relationship between all the facial features, size and shape of features when compared with a 'standard', etc. etc. Now, once we have this thing worked out (and I think this might already exist, somewhere. I somehow remember reading SOMETHING like this), everybody could be assigned a number. If we're graded on a scale of 100, where 100 is Speed Racer or something, then maybe Steve Buscemi is a 34, and Totila is like a 97. You get my drift. So--we all have scores. You with me?

Here's what I would like: I want to poll like 100,000 couples (this experiment will be costly. But stay with me!), and determine what is a standard deviation between marriage partners' numbers. I predict we would find that it's highly irregular for numbers which are too far apart to be married for any length of time. Yes, couples like this happen (hello, Quentin and Uma), but they don't last. So, now we have a big report telling us how the two numbers need to be related. Still with me?

Here's what I would like: I want to create a service where we talk to people who're dating and give them scientific recommendations for breaking up or staying together, purely based on statistics and their Personal Beauty Scores.

us- Well, we have some good news for you. You should definitely break up.
boy- What?! Why?
us- well, your Personal Beauty scores deviate by more than the standard 15 points. As a matter of fact, you've more than doubled the recommended deviation. You're 32 points apart.
girl- So what? We don't care about your dumb statistics. We just came in here out of curiosity. This doesn't apply to us.
us- Actually, miss, it does. It applies to everyone. If you care to know, we specifically recommend that YOU do the breaking up with Derek. Statistically speaking, there's a 94% chance that he'll break up with you in the next 7 months. You're 17. You don't want to waste any more time on this potential coupling than you have to. And we're here to tell you: you don't have to.
boy- How is this good news, you quack?
us- Quaint, Derek. We like to believe that good news happens when truth comes to light. This is the truth. I understand that this will be an awkward day for you both, but again, we strongly recommend that it ends here. Now.
girl- You want us to break up here? Right now?
boy- Who do you think you are?
us- We think that we're How WIll I Know?, and we think we're not wrong. Statistically speaking, of course. We could never be wrong.

This guy rides the SNOW!

DSCN1148
Originally uploaded by smanuel.

This is the Hoang you'll read about below. This Hoang decided, with me, to work on his snowboarding skills. We spent most of the day in this exact position. Turns out, though, that I was the one with the camera.

Snowboarding is awkward. We do NOT qualify for the over-hyped XGames.

There's a Hoang in my lift!

DSCN1140
Originally uploaded by smanuel.

This man visited me this weekend. He came from south of the Red River, and visited me north of the Ohio. We drove to nearby Indiana, where we skiied on manmade snow. It was way greater than you think it was. See how happy the little guy is

Allow me to review. At the church lock-ins (good grief, who created those awful, sleep-deprived marathons of pain?), as well as Saturday morning gatherings of every kind (say, groomsmen getting together early on the wedding day), as well as "continental breakfasts" across the globe, people are under a false impression. Those who run and plan these things seem to believe that humans of every stripe just LOVE bread + refined sugar for breakfast. To wit:



The examples, my friends, proliferate. But I have to say, dangit, that SUGAR + BREAD /= BREAKFAST!! Peeps, what Stevie needs for breakfast, before anything else, is some protein. Make it dairy, make it meaty, whatever. But I need some protein. It's that long-term energy that carries me through the day! Secondly, I need some fruit. I need natural (read: quickly digestable and applicable) sugars, and some fiber. PROTEIN + FIBER = BREAKFAST

It's not that I don't enjoy a delicious icing-filled donut from time to time, but in my world, a donut is something you enjoy after bowling, or as a fun dessert in a cabin in the mountains, after a day of Hoang-watching on the slopes. I'm just talking about the first meal of the day, when I'm not in the mood for sticky sugariness. Hear me, friends. This is my country, and this, this is my breakfast.

I am 32 years old. I have no idea what this is supposed to Mean, in a Big Picture sort of way. But I can tell you this: other people treat me differently than when I was 22.

I now have gray hair lightly salting my pate (and of this, I'm proud and pleased. The Bible speaks highly of gray hair). One of my friends, Ronald, was recently asked to teach a class at a business college. Another of my friends, Jeff, was just asked to lead his own Christ-following congregation in a New Spirituality-loving state, for crying out loud. I have peers who're running their own businesses (children's clothing store, commercial real estate, mortgage lending, recording studio, magazine, etc. etc.), and others who're big shots in corporations. These people are suddenly The Ruling Class, and they're my friends. This is very strange for me to observe about myself. I have friends who're millionaires (seriously! just call-em-up-and-chat kind of friends!), and friends who make movies or music albums or write books. It's kind of exciting, and kind of daunting as well, to be part of a group of influencers. If my generation is responsible for the generation we live in, it's almost time to stop griping and start changing the world. Whoa.


Last week, the Crossroads BRAND church machine, which employs me, asked me to be on its Management Team, which is basically, as I understand it, their Executive Board. They make decisions like when to add another service and should this guy get thrown out and what is God doing and are the people digging the coffee? This invitation, to be frank, stymies me. What business do *I* have helping to run a religious organization? I've spent most of my adult years lambasting the religious establishment, trying to guard my family and loved ones from it, and now I'm invited in. Will they make me only carry a Bible that has their corporate-style logo embroidered on the front? Will I have to be on their "Safe at Jesus!" softball league? Can I only listen to Organization Sanctioned 100% Sin-Proof Christian Music? Egad and good gracious, kill me now.

It's kind of strange when they basically say to you, "Hey you, with all the complaints and opinions--we want to hear what you have to say." It's like taking the buffoons who write letters to the newspaper and making them part of the editorial committee. Having spent the great majority of my life in some sort of religious organization (mission agencies, student organizations, para-church land, and churches ranging from house-centered to mega- to messianic), it feels INCREDIBLY BIZARRE to have been received and listened to as much as I have been here. I feel like Gollum looking plantively at Frodo when he's asked to leave the secret pool. "Are you sure? What's behind this? Are you going to kill me?" If I have a prophetic voice, as some suggest, then I'd be the first to say BY GOLLY IT'S UNUSUAL FOR PEOPLE TO RECEIVE PROPHETS. But by golly, I seem to be received here, at least at the moment. Unless you've lived my story (as guys like Ross and Neil and Craig have, in some way), or walked with somebody like me for a while, you have no idea how foreign it feels. But I can also say that this is an organization where honest communication and authentic community (=just living your life with other people beside you) are highly valued, a premium is put on truth, even if it's uncomfortable and confusing and humiliating, and where the leadership WANTS to receive people for who they are in Jesus. That is also so incredibly unusual that I keep walking around with bug eyes and a Cheshire grin, like Peter Lorry when he's just been given the go-ahead to lop someone's head off. I didn't say it wasn't fun. I said it was weird.

So, what--are we becoming the establishment? And what does that say about our responsibility? And our authority? And the way God is looking at us these days?

Having seen the advertisements on the teevee, with all their promises of happiness and the little extra bit of luxury my life is missing (which I unquestionably deserve), I gave in to the end-cap promotion at my local grocer and bought Kellogg's BRAND Vanilla Creme (not Cream, mind you. Creme gives it a feel of prestige, of other-ness, of EuroSuave) flavored Frosted Mini-Wheats.

Let me say this, bye the bye: we are one Mini-Wheat eating family. We buy the greatness of Target's Archer Farms brand of this product (Hello! $1.88! Archer Farms! Thank you!), as well as the in-the-bag, saving-money-on-the-packaging-as-well-as-the-ad-money getto style (This strange little sector of my cereal isle has always been somewhat of a curiosity to me. There's a bin over here on the side, kind of out of the way, which houses many of the exact same products as over there in the flashy boxes, but these over here are sad sacks indeed, overlooked and flaccid. They really are--they're flaccid. They have no backbone, and they're not out strutting around telling you how tasty they are. My heavens, they're just slumped over like a pile of old clothes. But I love them! I feel like I've found a treasure buried in a field, like the least are really the greatest, as well as the most economical. Those crazy bags of cereal--I love them so). So yeah- we like mini-wheats.

Quick review of the product: the smell is pretty good, and that smell exists even after the application of milk, which is nice. The taste is not very different from regular mini-wheats, but it's good. Like I said, we're fans. As a matter of fact, I had a bowl of regular mini-wheats after my new Vanilla Creme mini-wheats, and it was kind of a disappointment. Vanilla Creme=Good!

Now to the point of this post. On the back of the box, where I hope for some bits of trivia, a cartoon of some sort, or at least some dumb maze or something, guess what I find. (I'm assuming you're guessing right now.) I found an ADVERTISEMENT FOR VANILLA CREME MINI WHEATS!! What the FAT is this!??!? Haven't I just bought the product!? Aren't I sitting here eating the product I purchased?! Why must I be subjected to this advertising torture yet again?!?

It's like Thad saying that, after drinking is Coca-Cola BRAND sugar liquid, he finds under the cap a sign marked "DRINK COKE PLAY AGAIN." Friends, is this any way to live?

I know that the day is coming in which food will be engineered in such a way that, after it is consumed, WE become billboards for the products. We will produce a rash on our cheeks, for instance, that declare "Parkay! Not butter!" Or maybe they'll do crossover ads for other products in their company. Maybe you'll eat Pringles BRAND pressed potato-flavored snack bark and you'll produce a bruise on your forearm that reads "Bounty! The Quicker Picker-Upper!"


I don't like the sound of this. Not one bit. But I can tell you this: I'll be buying Vanilla Creme Mini-Wheats again.