Yesterday I went Christmas shopping. Yep, I bought all of you gifts--don't worry! :0) I signed a credit card receipt with a scribble at one particular store, and a very astute young man asked me jokingly, "You a doctor?" Standing in my sweatpants and t-shirt I chuckled and replied kindly, "Almost." He said, "Looks like you passed that class..." If only he knew.... :0)
Just as a side note...
Yesterday I also tripped while running on the treadmill--not once, but twice. Bet you are sad you missed that site!
Today I figured I would avoid any more treadmill misfortunes and enjoy the beautiful weather. As I prepared to go for a jog around the 'hood (and, yes, 'hood is definitely the most appropriate term) I carefully tied my house key onto the drawstring of my shorts. I made sure it was not coming off anytime in the next century or so. As I stepped out the door I soon realized how terrible an idea that was. So I stood on my tip-toes, hiked my shorts up to my belly button, and did a little dance in an effort to lock the door--shorts and all. Realizing my foolishness I quickly turned around to see if I had any fortunate onlookers. Bet you are sad you missed that site too!
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
"Fa La La La La"
Merry Christmas! And to my Episcopal friends, Happy Hanukkah! Speaking of Christmas, are we planning another holiday war this year? As you know, it’s been an annual festivity since 2005. This time of year, certain media outlets start buzzing about the war. No, not that war. The War On Christmas.
To hear them talk, you might think Hollywood’s most powerful Jews were holding Jesus hostage somewhere in Canada. It’s not uncommon to hear reports that school children all across the country are being reprimanded for saying the word “Christmas,” Target and Kohl’s aren’t allowing their employees to say ‘Merry You-Know-What,” and that Hillary Clinton has been seen trying to slide down people’s chimneys in an attempt to steal decorations, stockings, presents and all of the Who pudding.
My favorite moment of the “news” coverage has to be when one talking head looked into the camera with a straight face and said, “Every company in America should be on its knees thanking Jesus for being born. Without Christmas, most American businesses would be far less profitable.”
Wow. I’m pretty sure a raging atheist couldn’t have come up with a better argument as to why saying “Happy Holidays” rather than “Merry Christmas” is more appropriate for department stores. With that statement, the broadcaster not only yanked Christ out of Christmas, he put a price tag on him and posted a link on eBay.
How bad is the war on Christmas? According to that same broadcaster, this bad: “In Dodgeville, Wisconsin,” he proclaimed, “the Ridgewood Elementary School has changed the song Silent Night to Cold in the Night and forced the kids to sing the lyrics.” He then cleared his throat and began reading the lyrics to the Jesus-less song: “Cold in the night, no one in sight, winter winds whirl and bite.” He then smiled.
However, a few weeks later, I discovered that the Silent Night story from Wisconsin ended up being, well, a big fat falsehood! The “evildoers” who changed the lyrics of Silent Night to war against Jesus’ birth were actually putting on a play—one called “The Littlest Tree’s Christmas Gift”—and it had actually been written by a devout Presbyterian. In fact, the play wasn’t even a new one; the author had written the song in 1988 and legally borrowed the tune of Silent Night, which is in public domain.
Even so, a few evangelicals decided to retaliate last Christmas. One of them was Paula White, the platinum blonde pastor of the 22,000-member Without Walls International Church in Tampa, FL. In an effort to speak out against those who were trying to wrap up baby Jesus up and send him back to Bethlehem or at least kick him off public property, Paula had several of her church’s janitors get up on ladders and hang a tractortrailer-size sign on the side of her church. What was Paula’s holiday message to the world? Glad tidings of great joy? Not exactly. This little gem: “To Hell With Happy Holidays! Put Christ Back Into Christmas!”
Hmm. Which is worse for Jesus: Target employees who wish their customers a friendly, albeit forced, Happy Holidays or Paula White’s sign?
So, what the fa la la la la are we going to do this year—dress ourselves up in bulbs, lights and tinsel, and then stand out on public property and demand to be called Christmas trees? Would that make the story of Jesus more real?
Jesus is the Prince of Peace; do we really think he would spend one moment of time trying to ensure that nativity statues get displayed on public property during the month of December? Is that what being Christian is all about? I don't believe so.
Thankfully, when it’s all said and done I’m pretty sure Jesus will survive the war on Christmas. He’s out-survived the Spanish Inquisition and The Last Temptation of Christ, and it looks like he’ll outlast Pat Robertson, too. But you know, just because he can survive the mess we make of him doesn’t mean he should have to.
Happy Holidays.
-Matthew Paul Turner
Check it out.
I couldn't have said it better myself!
To hear them talk, you might think Hollywood’s most powerful Jews were holding Jesus hostage somewhere in Canada. It’s not uncommon to hear reports that school children all across the country are being reprimanded for saying the word “Christmas,” Target and Kohl’s aren’t allowing their employees to say ‘Merry You-Know-What,” and that Hillary Clinton has been seen trying to slide down people’s chimneys in an attempt to steal decorations, stockings, presents and all of the Who pudding.
My favorite moment of the “news” coverage has to be when one talking head looked into the camera with a straight face and said, “Every company in America should be on its knees thanking Jesus for being born. Without Christmas, most American businesses would be far less profitable.”
Wow. I’m pretty sure a raging atheist couldn’t have come up with a better argument as to why saying “Happy Holidays” rather than “Merry Christmas” is more appropriate for department stores. With that statement, the broadcaster not only yanked Christ out of Christmas, he put a price tag on him and posted a link on eBay.
How bad is the war on Christmas? According to that same broadcaster, this bad: “In Dodgeville, Wisconsin,” he proclaimed, “the Ridgewood Elementary School has changed the song Silent Night to Cold in the Night and forced the kids to sing the lyrics.” He then cleared his throat and began reading the lyrics to the Jesus-less song: “Cold in the night, no one in sight, winter winds whirl and bite.” He then smiled.
However, a few weeks later, I discovered that the Silent Night story from Wisconsin ended up being, well, a big fat falsehood! The “evildoers” who changed the lyrics of Silent Night to war against Jesus’ birth were actually putting on a play—one called “The Littlest Tree’s Christmas Gift”—and it had actually been written by a devout Presbyterian. In fact, the play wasn’t even a new one; the author had written the song in 1988 and legally borrowed the tune of Silent Night, which is in public domain.
Even so, a few evangelicals decided to retaliate last Christmas. One of them was Paula White, the platinum blonde pastor of the 22,000-member Without Walls International Church in Tampa, FL. In an effort to speak out against those who were trying to wrap up baby Jesus up and send him back to Bethlehem or at least kick him off public property, Paula had several of her church’s janitors get up on ladders and hang a tractortrailer-size sign on the side of her church. What was Paula’s holiday message to the world? Glad tidings of great joy? Not exactly. This little gem: “To Hell With Happy Holidays! Put Christ Back Into Christmas!”
Hmm. Which is worse for Jesus: Target employees who wish their customers a friendly, albeit forced, Happy Holidays or Paula White’s sign?
So, what the fa la la la la are we going to do this year—dress ourselves up in bulbs, lights and tinsel, and then stand out on public property and demand to be called Christmas trees? Would that make the story of Jesus more real?
Jesus is the Prince of Peace; do we really think he would spend one moment of time trying to ensure that nativity statues get displayed on public property during the month of December? Is that what being Christian is all about? I don't believe so.
Thankfully, when it’s all said and done I’m pretty sure Jesus will survive the war on Christmas. He’s out-survived the Spanish Inquisition and The Last Temptation of Christ, and it looks like he’ll outlast Pat Robertson, too. But you know, just because he can survive the mess we make of him doesn’t mean he should have to.
Happy Holidays.
-Matthew Paul Turner
Check it out.
I couldn't have said it better myself!
Friday, November 23, 2007
Get Over the Sun
Get over it. Yeah, that’s not very compassionate. Not a phrase often associated with tenderness. But, lately, lately I’ve found some comfort there. A song has been ringing in my ears for a few weeks now, and I’ve just begun to marinate in what it really means in my life. Here are the lyrics… And if you haven’t heard it I would encourage you to check it out—
Sitting around the fireplace
With a friend who’s been through it all
Soloman, wisest one
Tell me what you have found
Under the sun, under the sun
He answered
Get over the sun
Where life is hidden
Then he put on
A somber face
Talked about how
The rich man will waste
Away in the ground
Where the poor man is found
Painted up, like a clown
Under the sun, under the sun
He answers
Son you’ll soon be done
A life spent on some shiny god
Who leaves you empty
-Shane & Shane
The song is about King Soloman who looked high and low in life for meaning—and found “all is meaningless, vanity.” He tried working hard, partying hard, etc etc. Nothing. He found nothing worth-while. Read Ecclesiastes. It can get pretty depressing—I tried this great thing and this noble thing and oh yeah and there was that other awesome thing too. And it all sucked. I was all meaningless. Just utter rubbish. Here are a few excepts from Soloman’s thoughts from chapter 1—
2 Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher,
vanity of vanities! All is vanity.
3 What does man gain by all the toil
at which he toils under the sun?
4A generation goes, and a generation comes,
but the earth remains forever.
5The sun rises, and the sun goes down,
and hastens to the place where it rises.
6 The wind blows to the south
and goes around to the north;
around and around goes the wind,
and on its circuits the wind returns.
7All streams run to the sea,
but the sea is not full;
to the place where the streams flow,
there they flow again.
8All things are full of weariness;
a man cannot utter it;
the eye is not satisfied with seeing,
nor the ear filled with hearing.
9 What has been is what will be,
and what has been done is what will be done,
and there is nothing new under the sun.
10Is there a thing of which it is said,
"See, this is new"?
It has been already
in the ages before us.
11There is no remembrance of former things,
nor will there be any remembrance
of later things yet to be
among those who come after.
He also writes, “For who knows what is good for man in life, during the few and meaningless days he passes through like a shadow? Who can tell him what will happen under the sun after he is gone?" (Ecclesiastes 6:12). That’s a pretty hopeless conclusion. That’s dark. Have you ever been there? Have you ever just felt like nothing matters?
You could stop there. We could be left hopeless. Ecclesiastes concludes, “Of making many books there is no end, and much study wearies the body….” May I just stop and say, “AMEN!” to that! Anyhow, Soloman continues, “…Now all has been heard; here is the conclusion of the matter: Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man…” (12:12b-13). I don’t know about you, but that just wasn’t the grand finale I was hoping for—everything is meaningless but we still must fulfill a duty. Sounds burdensome, wearisome. Sounds like exactly where we began.
But I don’t think so after all. I think I’m often times looking in the wrong place. I can’t see far past the horizon. I can’t see far past myself for that matter. And I’m so quick to forget that there is so much more to life than me, my, and mine. I wrestle in my petty problems and self-service. I forget the big God I know because I’m serving me or some other worthless idol. And may I add that sometimes my idols are very well disguised—they come in the form of spirituality, achieving great and noble things, serving others in dire need and so forth…. But anything other than the real deal is, well, nothing more than a fraud. It is leaves us empty.
I want to get over the sun. I want to find where life is hidden—not just the living, breathing kind of life but that abundant, full life. My things, my accomplishments, even my spirituality—it will all be burned up by the Sun. I’m going to get over it. Because there—there, life is hidden.
And the beauty—
"I have been young, and now I am old, yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken or his children begging for bread. He is ever lending generously, and his children become a blessing."
Psalm 34:25-26
We’ll never go hungry. He is ever so generous. May we not be robbed from His generosity because we nibble far too long on the wrong side of the Sun. May we get over the Sun—where life is hidden. Life. True, real, authentic life.
Sitting around the fireplace
With a friend who’s been through it all
Soloman, wisest one
Tell me what you have found
Under the sun, under the sun
He answered
Get over the sun
Where life is hidden
Then he put on
A somber face
Talked about how
The rich man will waste
Away in the ground
Where the poor man is found
Painted up, like a clown
Under the sun, under the sun
He answers
Son you’ll soon be done
A life spent on some shiny god
Who leaves you empty
-Shane & Shane
The song is about King Soloman who looked high and low in life for meaning—and found “all is meaningless, vanity.” He tried working hard, partying hard, etc etc. Nothing. He found nothing worth-while. Read Ecclesiastes. It can get pretty depressing—I tried this great thing and this noble thing and oh yeah and there was that other awesome thing too. And it all sucked. I was all meaningless. Just utter rubbish. Here are a few excepts from Soloman’s thoughts from chapter 1—
2 Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher,
vanity of vanities! All is vanity.
3 What does man gain by all the toil
at which he toils under the sun?
4A generation goes, and a generation comes,
but the earth remains forever.
5The sun rises, and the sun goes down,
and hastens to the place where it rises.
6 The wind blows to the south
and goes around to the north;
around and around goes the wind,
and on its circuits the wind returns.
7All streams run to the sea,
but the sea is not full;
to the place where the streams flow,
there they flow again.
8All things are full of weariness;
a man cannot utter it;
the eye is not satisfied with seeing,
nor the ear filled with hearing.
9 What has been is what will be,
and what has been done is what will be done,
and there is nothing new under the sun.
10Is there a thing of which it is said,
"See, this is new"?
It has been already
in the ages before us.
11There is no remembrance of former things,
nor will there be any remembrance
of later things yet to be
among those who come after.
He also writes, “For who knows what is good for man in life, during the few and meaningless days he passes through like a shadow? Who can tell him what will happen under the sun after he is gone?" (Ecclesiastes 6:12). That’s a pretty hopeless conclusion. That’s dark. Have you ever been there? Have you ever just felt like nothing matters?
You could stop there. We could be left hopeless. Ecclesiastes concludes, “Of making many books there is no end, and much study wearies the body….” May I just stop and say, “AMEN!” to that! Anyhow, Soloman continues, “…Now all has been heard; here is the conclusion of the matter: Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man…” (12:12b-13). I don’t know about you, but that just wasn’t the grand finale I was hoping for—everything is meaningless but we still must fulfill a duty. Sounds burdensome, wearisome. Sounds like exactly where we began.
But I don’t think so after all. I think I’m often times looking in the wrong place. I can’t see far past the horizon. I can’t see far past myself for that matter. And I’m so quick to forget that there is so much more to life than me, my, and mine. I wrestle in my petty problems and self-service. I forget the big God I know because I’m serving me or some other worthless idol. And may I add that sometimes my idols are very well disguised—they come in the form of spirituality, achieving great and noble things, serving others in dire need and so forth…. But anything other than the real deal is, well, nothing more than a fraud. It is leaves us empty.
I want to get over the sun. I want to find where life is hidden—not just the living, breathing kind of life but that abundant, full life. My things, my accomplishments, even my spirituality—it will all be burned up by the Sun. I’m going to get over it. Because there—there, life is hidden.
And the beauty—
"I have been young, and now I am old, yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken or his children begging for bread. He is ever lending generously, and his children become a blessing."
Psalm 34:25-26
We’ll never go hungry. He is ever so generous. May we not be robbed from His generosity because we nibble far too long on the wrong side of the Sun. May we get over the Sun—where life is hidden. Life. True, real, authentic life.
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