So church this morning was amazing. I mean... AMAZING! I really felt His presence from the first chord. When the band played 'Inside Out' it really brought me to His feet. Tears flowed freely.
Then, during the message, Marty challenged us to DO many things. Open a free clinic... Host an Easter Egg Extravaganza for the city... and other acts of service to LOVE the city of Ottumwa. I have a real feeling that Jesus is being revealed through this group. That HIS Kingdom is coming. This just isn't people PLAYING church. This just isn't a group of people forming a club to feel important. But its a church the way Paul and Silas made church in the 1st Century.
For so long I read and searched out what was the first century church. Then, through the bitter taste in my mouth from the bad experiences, I sorta put those pursuits on hold. Then, out of the blue, I stumble into a group of ardent worshipers who are loving the poor, the alien, the widow.
At the end of the service, a group of ladies appeared that had been given two hundred dollars and were sent to Aldy's to buy groceries for a stranger. What an act of WORSHIP, to bless others... to show God's glory. To proclaim the wonders of the Lord.
YES, Jesus is BEAUTIFUL this day. Yes, we are rippling out the GOOD NEWS.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Thaw
It has snowed a lot of late. A thick blanket of ice and snow covered everything. In that deep cocoon of cold, everything lies dormant, asleep, waiting in limbo.
The other day I was on my way to church and I noted something amazing, something I hadn't seen in over a week. It was the sun. Warm rays flooded the frosty land and began to melt the white. Every, life was coming back. Trees, grass and plants of all types, like magic, emerged from the snow like waking from a long slumber. And then I saw Jesus.
There, coming out of the snow, was a nativity scene, buried in a blizzard and forgot.... but not lost. Just beneath the surface, the Nativity waited for the right time to return.
"Keep your shirts on; keep the lights on! Be like house servants waiting for their master to come back from his honeymoon, awake and ready to open the door when he arrives and knocks. Lucky the servants whom the master finds on watch! He'll put on an apron, sit them at the table, and serve them a meal, sharing his wedding feast with them. It doesn't matter what time of the night he arrives; they're awake—and so blessed!
I'm waiting... and I know its coming. A thaw is coming, not just for my own soul, but for this whole world. The Kingdom come. His Kingdom... its coming. Not just in a far-off, cloudy heaven. His Kingdom is coming HERE... to this earth. The LORD will stretch his loving arms and melt away all that is frozen. Flowers and trees crying out of His majesty.
The Thaw is coming. Be ready.
The other day I was on my way to church and I noted something amazing, something I hadn't seen in over a week. It was the sun. Warm rays flooded the frosty land and began to melt the white. Every, life was coming back. Trees, grass and plants of all types, like magic, emerged from the snow like waking from a long slumber. And then I saw Jesus.
There, coming out of the snow, was a nativity scene, buried in a blizzard and forgot.... but not lost. Just beneath the surface, the Nativity waited for the right time to return.
Luke 12:35-48 (The Message)
"Keep your shirts on; keep the lights on! Be like house servants waiting for their master to come back from his honeymoon, awake and ready to open the door when he arrives and knocks. Lucky the servants whom the master finds on watch! He'll put on an apron, sit them at the table, and serve them a meal, sharing his wedding feast with them. It doesn't matter what time of the night he arrives; they're awake—and so blessed!
I'm waiting... and I know its coming. A thaw is coming, not just for my own soul, but for this whole world. The Kingdom come. His Kingdom... its coming. Not just in a far-off, cloudy heaven. His Kingdom is coming HERE... to this earth. The LORD will stretch his loving arms and melt away all that is frozen. Flowers and trees crying out of His majesty.
The Thaw is coming. Be ready.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Lost and Found
I've lost a few things lately. It really bothers me. I mean it REALLY bothers me. I can't stop looking and looking, checking and rechecking every nook and cranny until the misplaced object turns up. It can become an obsession.
I think the root of this goes back to my childhood. It was hard to hold onto special things in the chaos that was our life. Special toys, special memories, special mementos of happy times slipped away. So now I desperately want to offer my own children something I didn't have. I want them to have special things that make it through time... real things that they can touch, and hold onto. I want them to be able to depend on things being there. I don't want them to know the doubt, the loss, the disorder that I did.
So when things become lost I turn over everything looking. And looking. And looking.
Right now I am looking for my daughter's favorite toy. It is a stuffed deer that her mother got her for Christmas. She hadn't hardly stopped playing with it since she got it. So when it came up missing she was very upset. And that ache in my heart started. And so began my search.
I have looked all night tonight. I have looked under ever couch and chair and in every cupboard and drawers. I have checked every inch of their room twice. I have look in the cars over and over and over again. I have yet to find it. The ache to find this thing is so strong inside of me. Few things are as powerful as the feeling of something be gone... not where you can find it... LOST.
There is one feeling that is stronger, richer and oh so sweeter. It is the feeling of FINDING that item that you have quested for.
Ever lose your wallet? There is a panic that sets in and a frantic search starts accompanied by the ache that it might be gone and all the things you will have to do to replace your ID, your credit cards, your other personal information. And then, like a fresh wave washing over you, there it is... FOUND. You rejoice. Suddenly everything is back to normal all because the item is back in your grasp. All the frantic searching is worthwhile once you have it FOUND.
Do you know the feeling?
Now think about our Lord. We are the item He searches for. HE is the searcher and we are the misplaced keys that he pursues. If we are lost, He stops at nothing. He overturns each couch cushion and checks every cupboard and every drawer until we are FOUND.
And then... HE celebrates. Back in His hands... everything is good again.
How awesome is it to think of GOD having that rejoicing feeling, the feeling of FINDING over us? That blows me away. What a personal and loving God we have... who searches for the lost and rejoices over the FOUND.
I think the root of this goes back to my childhood. It was hard to hold onto special things in the chaos that was our life. Special toys, special memories, special mementos of happy times slipped away. So now I desperately want to offer my own children something I didn't have. I want them to have special things that make it through time... real things that they can touch, and hold onto. I want them to be able to depend on things being there. I don't want them to know the doubt, the loss, the disorder that I did.
So when things become lost I turn over everything looking. And looking. And looking.
Right now I am looking for my daughter's favorite toy. It is a stuffed deer that her mother got her for Christmas. She hadn't hardly stopped playing with it since she got it. So when it came up missing she was very upset. And that ache in my heart started. And so began my search.
I have looked all night tonight. I have looked under ever couch and chair and in every cupboard and drawers. I have checked every inch of their room twice. I have look in the cars over and over and over again. I have yet to find it. The ache to find this thing is so strong inside of me. Few things are as powerful as the feeling of something be gone... not where you can find it... LOST.
There is one feeling that is stronger, richer and oh so sweeter. It is the feeling of FINDING that item that you have quested for.
Ever lose your wallet? There is a panic that sets in and a frantic search starts accompanied by the ache that it might be gone and all the things you will have to do to replace your ID, your credit cards, your other personal information. And then, like a fresh wave washing over you, there it is... FOUND. You rejoice. Suddenly everything is back to normal all because the item is back in your grasp. All the frantic searching is worthwhile once you have it FOUND.
Do you know the feeling?
Now think about our Lord. We are the item He searches for. HE is the searcher and we are the misplaced keys that he pursues. If we are lost, He stops at nothing. He overturns each couch cushion and checks every cupboard and every drawer until we are FOUND.
And then... HE celebrates. Back in His hands... everything is good again.
"Suppose one of you had a hundred sheep and lost one. Wouldn't you leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the lost one until you found it? When found, you can be sure you would put it across your shoulders, rejoicing, and when you got home call in your friends and neighbors, saying, 'Celebrate with me! I've found my lost sheep!' Count on it—there's more joy in heaven over one sinner's rescued life than over ninety-nine good people in no need of rescue.Luke 15:4-7 (The Message)
How awesome is it to think of GOD having that rejoicing feeling, the feeling of FINDING over us? That blows me away. What a personal and loving God we have... who searches for the lost and rejoices over the FOUND.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Friday, September 25, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
hmmm
Something strange happens every time i get upset at someone at church... I quit praying or reading my Bible. i was just thinking about this. how silly.
I'm not mad at Jesus! I'm mad at a human. but still... My relationship with Him always suffers. besides- there's no better way to fix a problem then to look to God's living Word or to get down on your knees and pray.
From now on, when i get in a push-and-shove with someone, i'm running straight to Jesus.
I'm not mad at Jesus! I'm mad at a human. but still... My relationship with Him always suffers. besides- there's no better way to fix a problem then to look to God's living Word or to get down on your knees and pray.
From now on, when i get in a push-and-shove with someone, i'm running straight to Jesus.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
A tether, a light, an antedote
Listen...
Before you, I was lost and adrift at sea. I was swallowed whole and sinking fast. I was left to my own devices and out-of-control.
Doom, doom...
But then I found you, in the ashes, the dark, the swelling tide. I saw you coming my way and couldn't believe my eyes. Nor comprehend my luck.
A rescue. A rescue.
Before you I was lost. I could not see. I was tumbling, tumbling down, down, spiraling out of sight.
alone. alone.
But then you... then you. A tether, a light, an antidote-
from the fall
from the darkened pit
from the poison of my own despair
You saved me.
I reached out and grabbed a hold of you, another soul on the surf. I clung to you, a tether in the abyss- suddenly not fall. I came up for air.
alive. alive
Do you know that joy of breaking the surface? of making it through the dark? Of living once near death? Do you know the rush of fresh oxygen in your tired lungs? The sweet sting of light to your darkened eye? Do you know what it means to be saved?
Saved? Saved?
Others. The ones who knew me before, they question this love. They scoff. They judge. They shake their heads in shame. But I know what it means to be saved. To receive a sweet, rich gift from GOD.
Grace. Grace.
Nothing can take that away. I am now different. There is no me without you. I am now tethered, alight, cured.
Cured. Cured.
Before you, I was lost and adrift at sea. I was swallowed whole and sinking fast. I was left to my own devices and out-of-control.
Doom, doom...
But then I found you, in the ashes, the dark, the swelling tide. I saw you coming my way and couldn't believe my eyes. Nor comprehend my luck.
A rescue. A rescue.
Before you I was lost. I could not see. I was tumbling, tumbling down, down, spiraling out of sight.
alone. alone.
But then you... then you. A tether, a light, an antidote-
from the fall
from the darkened pit
from the poison of my own despair
You saved me.
I reached out and grabbed a hold of you, another soul on the surf. I clung to you, a tether in the abyss- suddenly not fall. I came up for air.
alive. alive
Do you know that joy of breaking the surface? of making it through the dark? Of living once near death? Do you know the rush of fresh oxygen in your tired lungs? The sweet sting of light to your darkened eye? Do you know what it means to be saved?
Saved? Saved?
Others. The ones who knew me before, they question this love. They scoff. They judge. They shake their heads in shame. But I know what it means to be saved. To receive a sweet, rich gift from GOD.
Grace. Grace.
Nothing can take that away. I am now different. There is no me without you. I am now tethered, alight, cured.
Cured. Cured.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Kindness
I'm teaching a lesson tonight on kindness at Kids Club. It was a rather hard lesson to write. The story and the lesson came easy enough. Kids need to understand that sharing is a vital part of being Christ-like. But what activity can you do to show kindness?
If we could, I would drag the little buggers down to the nursing home or to the apartments and have them share their time or their little hands. But I can't. We are pretty much stuck there at the church.
So instead I decided to teach them the story of Elijah and the woman who shared the last of her flour and oil to make him bread. She shared what little she had out of kindness. And God rewarded her. I bought some flatbread. The kids can break bread and share it at the end.
I hope they learn something real and tangible about sharing. It's what God wants us to do.
If we could, I would drag the little buggers down to the nursing home or to the apartments and have them share their time or their little hands. But I can't. We are pretty much stuck there at the church.
So instead I decided to teach them the story of Elijah and the woman who shared the last of her flour and oil to make him bread. She shared what little she had out of kindness. And God rewarded her. I bought some flatbread. The kids can break bread and share it at the end.
I hope they learn something real and tangible about sharing. It's what God wants us to do.
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
TEN LESSONS THE ARTS TEACH
From a staff newsletter... I thought is was good. Fine Arts=Living Praise
1. The arts teaches children to make good judgments about qualitative relationships. Unlike much of the curriculum in which correct answers and rules prevail, in the arts, it is judgment rather than rules that prevail.
2. The arts teaches children that problems can have more than one solution and that questions can have more than one answer.
3. The arts celebrate multiple perspectives. One of their large lessons is that there are many ways to see and interpret the world.
4. The arts teaches children that in complex forms of problem solving, purposes are seldom fixed, but change with circumstance and opportunity. Learning in the arts requires the ability and a willingness to surrender to the unanticipated possibilities of the work as it unfolds.
5. The arts make vivid the fact that neither words in their literal form or number exhaust what we can know. The limits of our language do not define the limits of our cognition.
6. The arts teach students that small difference can have large effects. The arts traffic in subtleties.
7. The arts teach students to think through and within a material. All art forms employ some means through which images become real.
8. The arts help children learn to say what cannot be said. When children are invited to disclose what a work of art helps them feel, they must reach into their poetic capacities to find the words that will do the job.
9. The arts helps us to have experiences we can have from no other source and through such experience to discover the range and variety of what we are capable of feeling.
10. The arts' position in the school curriculum symbolizes to the young what adults believe is important.
1. The arts teaches children to make good judgments about qualitative relationships. Unlike much of the curriculum in which correct answers and rules prevail, in the arts, it is judgment rather than rules that prevail.
2. The arts teaches children that problems can have more than one solution and that questions can have more than one answer.
3. The arts celebrate multiple perspectives. One of their large lessons is that there are many ways to see and interpret the world.
4. The arts teaches children that in complex forms of problem solving, purposes are seldom fixed, but change with circumstance and opportunity. Learning in the arts requires the ability and a willingness to surrender to the unanticipated possibilities of the work as it unfolds.
5. The arts make vivid the fact that neither words in their literal form or number exhaust what we can know. The limits of our language do not define the limits of our cognition.
6. The arts teach students that small difference can have large effects. The arts traffic in subtleties.
7. The arts teach students to think through and within a material. All art forms employ some means through which images become real.
8. The arts help children learn to say what cannot be said. When children are invited to disclose what a work of art helps them feel, they must reach into their poetic capacities to find the words that will do the job.
9. The arts helps us to have experiences we can have from no other source and through such experience to discover the range and variety of what we are capable of feeling.
10. The arts' position in the school curriculum symbolizes to the young what adults believe is important.
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
worship because a chore
Its terrible when we become so focused on the nuts and bolts of worship that it becomes a job. Lately I have been so busy sorting music, trying to deal with changing schedules and roster changes that I haven't really had the time to take a deep breath and just worship the Living Lord.
This morning, driving to a doctor's appointment, I drove into the Skunk River bottom with the low lying fog and the early morning sun blazing an orange Mark Rothko in the eastern sky. I saw it and I was awe struck by the beauty in that valley and I began worshiping God and praising His Holy name. It was real worship. There was no band, no instruments, no music at all but my own voice... and I was taken to another place.
If only I could capture that feeling when leading worship. Then there would be no feelings of obligation or duty, ritual or roteness. It would just be worship.
This morning, driving to a doctor's appointment, I drove into the Skunk River bottom with the low lying fog and the early morning sun blazing an orange Mark Rothko in the eastern sky. I saw it and I was awe struck by the beauty in that valley and I began worshiping God and praising His Holy name. It was real worship. There was no band, no instruments, no music at all but my own voice... and I was taken to another place.
If only I could capture that feeling when leading worship. Then there would be no feelings of obligation or duty, ritual or roteness. It would just be worship.
Friday, July 03, 2009
Just Sing
Worship is making art with the purpose of glorifying God. We often just think of singing and playing instruments as being worship, but on the contrary, dancing, drawings, painting, poetry, drama- all can be offered as a sacrifice of praise and worship. It is not successful based off the standards of men- but rather how God finds it.
Remember that lady who gave all, even through it was just a pittance, offered more than the puffed-up rich man in the eyes of the Lord.
So go to him and lay it all down, hold nothing back, and worship Him with your creative offerings this day.
Don't worry if it's not good enough for anyone else to hear... Just sing... Sing a song.
Remember that lady who gave all, even through it was just a pittance, offered more than the puffed-up rich man in the eyes of the Lord.
So go to him and lay it all down, hold nothing back, and worship Him with your creative offerings this day.
Don't worry if it's not good enough for anyone else to hear... Just sing... Sing a song.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Thinking... Thinking
I moved all my files here to Blogger because it is a free service and I just don't see a need to keep Thrownroom.com anymore since my creative work is no longer under that banner.
I do feel called to start a dialog again via this interface. I have been dropping little short notes on Facebook... but folks seem to have an appetite for the Bollman's odd thoughts on Jesus, the modern church v. the emergent church... and perhaps this will become my forum to reach the a wider audiance than the children and youth I teach at my current church.
Either way, buckle and and load this into your reader... The Thrown Room is back in action!
Brant
I do feel called to start a dialog again via this interface. I have been dropping little short notes on Facebook... but folks seem to have an appetite for the Bollman's odd thoughts on Jesus, the modern church v. the emergent church... and perhaps this will become my forum to reach the a wider audiance than the children and youth I teach at my current church.
Either way, buckle and and load this into your reader... The Thrown Room is back in action!
Brant
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Keith Haring
THERE IS NO REASON TO PAINT.
SEEN ANYTHING, NEVER READ ANYTHING,
NEVER HEARD ANYTHING...
AND THEN MAKE SOMETHING.
I THINK ABOUT THE PEOPLE
WHO ARE GOING TO SEE IT
I THINK ABOUT THE PERSON
WHO MADE IT.
SO, EVERTHING IS IMPORTANT.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Prayer Request
Please keep me in your prayers. I am not dealing with this whole suicide thing very well. I have a lot of regrets. I wish I would have done more.
Brant
Brant
Monday, January 12, 2009
Then he said to them all: "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.
-Luke 9:23
I sang my song Everyday in church yesterday. It is the song that best sums up my early time as a born again Christian. It was the closing song, the alter call song if you will, through my band days. And it echoes the verse Luke 9:23 which I often cling to. This isn't about a religion, like a membership to a club- like MPR which I pledge to once or twice a year and listen to on the weekends. This is a life. You change and go with Him EVERYDAY!
Its funny how the Spirit works. I was worried that I messed up the rhythm on the first verse and really only got it all together by the third. But afterwards I heard how good I sounded.
Now I often hear about my song writing, how entertaining I am on stage, or how the Spirit moved. But I never hear that I have a pretty voice. I am much more of a Jim Morrison than a Frank Sinatra and I have to delusions about this. Having a sister that can REALLY sing, who is blessed with a big beautiful voice, I have always been the bard, telling tales and leading the way I would in a play, using a charisma of personality more than a talent for music.
But yesterday I heard I sounded good.
Perhaps they will let me sing again some time?
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
An absurd notion
The Jews were looking for a king to come romp the romans. They wanted a warrior to kick out their enemies and make the rich even richer. They wanted a politician that could unit and a military genius that could bring down wrath and revenge upon the enemies of Zion.
Instead God sent a baby... born in a stall surrounded by donkeys and sheep.
They expected a mighty warrior covered in gold and glory.
God sent a child born in filth and manure.
They expected someone which the powerful would bow down to. To whom the pharisees and sadducees would rally behind. Instead shepherds came to pay tribute.
At every turn God gave them the opposite of what they expected. Jesus came born into a poor family to a mother who had not yet wed. Born in a manger stall instead of in the halls of wealth. Forced to flee a mighty king and the swords of his men... A babe against the powers of man...
Who else to save mankind? Who else to change the world? Who else could walk in place of every man but this babe... this child born among the animal crap... But fully both God and man.
Merry Christmas. Thank you for sending your son.
Instead God sent a baby... born in a stall surrounded by donkeys and sheep.
They expected a mighty warrior covered in gold and glory.
God sent a child born in filth and manure.
They expected someone which the powerful would bow down to. To whom the pharisees and sadducees would rally behind. Instead shepherds came to pay tribute.
At every turn God gave them the opposite of what they expected. Jesus came born into a poor family to a mother who had not yet wed. Born in a manger stall instead of in the halls of wealth. Forced to flee a mighty king and the swords of his men... A babe against the powers of man...
Who else to save mankind? Who else to change the world? Who else could walk in place of every man but this babe... this child born among the animal crap... But fully both God and man.
Merry Christmas. Thank you for sending your son.
Monday, December 22, 2008
...Under the trash (A repost from Christmas 2006)
I have been nosing around the book of Ecclesiastes this Advent season. I have found a seeker, a man roaming through the world searching for the true meaning of life. I see a wise man exploring wealth, fame and all manners of earthly pursuits. In the end, what does he find? He finds that all things are empty without a relationship with God. All things under the sun are trivial without find what's above the sun.
It was a brief second in the Popmart set. It was a tiny moment with enormous meaning. It was a throwaway gesture in which the whole Popmart thesis is understood. Perhaps it was even the whole point of the U2 dissertation of the nineties. The band was cranking up the volume in "Mofo" when Bono came to the line "Looking for the baby Jesus under the trash." As he sang those words, he gestured his arm to the biggest TV screen in the world, that huge golden arch and the mighty lemon. It was almost just a shrug, but the illumination it threw out was as bright as every spotlight, special effect, or image Willie Williams was flashing up from the light desk. All of this paraphernalia the band had around it night after night for most of the nineties was trash. What was more important was underneath it all. The use of Baby Jesus could mean the genesis of this thought is in the commercialization of Christmas, when Jesus, the real meaning of the season, is lost beneath wrapping paper, tinsel, stuffing, and Santa Claus. But it is a picture of a general loss of meaning or hope or truth. As we glance across the horizon of the loudest and brightest culture in the history of humankind, is there any chance we might find in the midst of all the shallowness something deeper, something more precious, something more lasting? Is Jesus lost? Or can He be retrieved from the garbage?
p. 119
Steve Stockman
Walk On: The Spiritual Journey of U2
In the work of U2 we see the same seeking. We see the same yearning to find spiritual meaning in the world. The postmodern world is one filled with a choir of voices... none of which pause in honor of the others. It’s a mass overload of sensory overload. It’s easy to be lost… but this bewildering landscape of shopping malls, pop-up adds and sound bites also brings us to the same truth that the seeker in the book of Ecclesiastes finds… The promises of this world are hallow.
Again, it was the searching for Jesus under the trash. "Mofo," which kicked off the show, begins with that statement of intending to look for something to save hi soul and fill the God-shaped hole. The seeking will be done in a barren desert place... There are still no comfortable refuges in the life of this Dublin boy, but the search continues. The compass points have not changed even though he may be in the wilderness in some kind of Old Testament wandering. It is still that God-shaped hole that captures the thinking of his heart, soul, and mind.
p. 121
Steve Stockman
Walk On: The Spiritual Journey of U2
Modernism, logic, reason, invention, political truth, and rationalism all leave you empty in the chilling emotional desert of this world. We find real life, real peace, in the spiritual. Thank god, that God is a intimate god, that reaches down into this world and becomes personal. He hasn’t stopped calling out to you, even though you are lost in the barrage of holiday chaos. He is as present as ever, in the midst of the hustle and bustle, drawing you towards His truth and His light.
Merry Christmas… Make it a personal one. Do not forget the reason for the season.
It was a brief second in the Popmart set. It was a tiny moment with enormous meaning. It was a throwaway gesture in which the whole Popmart thesis is understood. Perhaps it was even the whole point of the U2 dissertation of the nineties. The band was cranking up the volume in "Mofo" when Bono came to the line "Looking for the baby Jesus under the trash." As he sang those words, he gestured his arm to the biggest TV screen in the world, that huge golden arch and the mighty lemon. It was almost just a shrug, but the illumination it threw out was as bright as every spotlight, special effect, or image Willie Williams was flashing up from the light desk. All of this paraphernalia the band had around it night after night for most of the nineties was trash. What was more important was underneath it all. The use of Baby Jesus could mean the genesis of this thought is in the commercialization of Christmas, when Jesus, the real meaning of the season, is lost beneath wrapping paper, tinsel, stuffing, and Santa Claus. But it is a picture of a general loss of meaning or hope or truth. As we glance across the horizon of the loudest and brightest culture in the history of humankind, is there any chance we might find in the midst of all the shallowness something deeper, something more precious, something more lasting? Is Jesus lost? Or can He be retrieved from the garbage?
p. 119
Steve Stockman
Walk On: The Spiritual Journey of U2
In the work of U2 we see the same seeking. We see the same yearning to find spiritual meaning in the world. The postmodern world is one filled with a choir of voices... none of which pause in honor of the others. It’s a mass overload of sensory overload. It’s easy to be lost… but this bewildering landscape of shopping malls, pop-up adds and sound bites also brings us to the same truth that the seeker in the book of Ecclesiastes finds… The promises of this world are hallow.
Again, it was the searching for Jesus under the trash. "Mofo," which kicked off the show, begins with that statement of intending to look for something to save hi soul and fill the God-shaped hole. The seeking will be done in a barren desert place... There are still no comfortable refuges in the life of this Dublin boy, but the search continues. The compass points have not changed even though he may be in the wilderness in some kind of Old Testament wandering. It is still that God-shaped hole that captures the thinking of his heart, soul, and mind.
p. 121
Steve Stockman
Walk On: The Spiritual Journey of U2
Modernism, logic, reason, invention, political truth, and rationalism all leave you empty in the chilling emotional desert of this world. We find real life, real peace, in the spiritual. Thank god, that God is a intimate god, that reaches down into this world and becomes personal. He hasn’t stopped calling out to you, even though you are lost in the barrage of holiday chaos. He is as present as ever, in the midst of the hustle and bustle, drawing you towards His truth and His light.
Merry Christmas… Make it a personal one. Do not forget the reason for the season.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Looking for Baby Jesus... (A repost from Christmas 2006)
MOFO
U2
Looking for to save my save my soul
Looking in the places where no flowers grow
Looking for to fill that God shaped hole
Mother...mother sucking rock and roll
Holy dunc, spacejunk coming in for the splash
White dopes on punk staring into the flash
Looking for the baby Jesus under the trash
Bubble popping sugar dropping rock and roll
Mother...mother sucking rock and roll
Christmas time, a time when you see everyone at the stores buying last minute gifts for every person on their list. Everyone has a little religion around the holidays. Even the most stone cold heart says an occasional 'Merry Christmas.' We pack our front yards with lighted displays that stress that we are in the Christmas spirit. We have Santa's on the rooftops and we play catchy Christmas carols on the radio. But never forget during this time of tinsel string and blinking lights that underneath all the glitz and glamor of the holidays is a miraculous story, the story of a child in a manger, of a king sent for poor shepherd and commoners, of a God so caring that He'd become lowly to save ordinary folks like us. That is the heart of Christmas.
It might take a moment, but this year, take a moment, if only for a moment, and look for baby Jesus amongst the holiday trash. If even at a red light, look for Him for He is all around. Christmas with out the CHRIST is just a mess!
Grace and peace this holiday season!!!
Saturday, December 20, 2008
long silence
So I haven't blogged in a while. Life gets busy... things get crazy. You have problems with life and love and your words disappear.
That's the deal. I cut ties with someone that had been very very close to me for a long long time. I would like to say it was easy but in truth it might have been the hardest thing I have ever done. Even now when things get bad I find myself reaching for my cell considering pushing that emergency button... But I have closed that door and must look forward.
I could pour through poems and verse and let my heart explode on this blog as it has here before... but the truth is, I was just ready to move on. I wanted something different. And that requires ending an old chapter and starting a new one.
I played my old songs at a Thursday night service. It went well. I am alive again. The old music still works... The words come out, the Spirit flows, lives change. It was ME that was broken. It was my heart that grew timid and cold. Now I feel the burning fire again and want my guitar to be like a sword imbued with the Living Word of God whirling through the darkness and penetrating the heart of man.
I can't do this when my mind is in a whirlwind of love sick drama. I can't do this when I feel ran under the hooves of a passing army. I cannot do this until I set Jesus as my center and push back the other voices to the outer reaches of my ears.
I have limited the noise and look now for fellow solders that are willing to fight the good fight with me.
I will not be silent any more.
That's the deal. I cut ties with someone that had been very very close to me for a long long time. I would like to say it was easy but in truth it might have been the hardest thing I have ever done. Even now when things get bad I find myself reaching for my cell considering pushing that emergency button... But I have closed that door and must look forward.
I could pour through poems and verse and let my heart explode on this blog as it has here before... but the truth is, I was just ready to move on. I wanted something different. And that requires ending an old chapter and starting a new one.
I played my old songs at a Thursday night service. It went well. I am alive again. The old music still works... The words come out, the Spirit flows, lives change. It was ME that was broken. It was my heart that grew timid and cold. Now I feel the burning fire again and want my guitar to be like a sword imbued with the Living Word of God whirling through the darkness and penetrating the heart of man.
I can't do this when my mind is in a whirlwind of love sick drama. I can't do this when I feel ran under the hooves of a passing army. I cannot do this until I set Jesus as my center and push back the other voices to the outer reaches of my ears.
I have limited the noise and look now for fellow solders that are willing to fight the good fight with me.
I will not be silent any more.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Frustration
I have never felt so frustrated in my life.
I feel like a dammed up river that is about to explode.
Nothing is giving me peace anymore except praise and worship.
What does this mean? Are you changing me Lord? Is this some sort of fire that will purify me? Or is this the shedding of dry skin.
I don't know but I could scream at the top of my lunges. I hate this dying world. I had the scent of sin that permeates everything. I hate pain, I hate suffering. I hate corruption. I hate how the big guy wins and the little guy takes it on the chin. I hate it.
COME! Come savior. Make the poor rich and the weak strong. I WANT YOUR PRESENCE. I want you NOW.
I am so frustrated I can't stand still. SHATTER THIS WORLD... BREAK THIS DEAD DUSTY PLANE! Make me new again.
I feel like a dammed up river that is about to explode.
Nothing is giving me peace anymore except praise and worship.
What does this mean? Are you changing me Lord? Is this some sort of fire that will purify me? Or is this the shedding of dry skin.
I don't know but I could scream at the top of my lunges. I hate this dying world. I had the scent of sin that permeates everything. I hate pain, I hate suffering. I hate corruption. I hate how the big guy wins and the little guy takes it on the chin. I hate it.
COME! Come savior. Make the poor rich and the weak strong. I WANT YOUR PRESENCE. I want you NOW.
I am so frustrated I can't stand still. SHATTER THIS WORLD... BREAK THIS DEAD DUSTY PLANE! Make me new again.
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