Worship Leading Choose Your Own Ending: Part 9

You chose:

G) Buy a new guitar. For $3,000, it really should have a failsafe or something.

(Click here to read the previous chapter in the series if you have no idea what is happening. Or even if you do.)

So you spend all service in between delay riffs, on the Gear Talk Classifieds on your phone, buying a new guitar from a new builder with no reputation. So you know it’s going to be good.

The service, needless to say, is kind of a blur for you. A blur of imaginary internet tone. Which is the best kind of tone. Before you know it, you’re back on stage, never having opened your Bible, your guitar is back in your hands, and the pastor is pre-closing in prayer. You know, the one before the worship leader decides to pray and really close it out, maybe with a mini sermon too. Because the pastor did a pretty good job, but…

Ohp, he just said traveling mercies, he’s nearing the end of his prayer. Hedge of protection is next, and then an out of context quote from Joshua. You don’t have much time. Deftly you place your fingers into the blessed G…wait for it…major 7th…not done…add 9 chord, ease your heel down on your This1sMyne-used-to-be-Ernie-Ball volume pedal, and get ready to ever so emotionally swell into the underscore of the pastor’s closing words. Because the Spirit of God doesn’t inhabit prayer, or the praises of His people; nope, He inhabits our minor 6th chords, obviously. You crush your guitar gently with your $30 dollar hand-carved obsidian stone pick, and in the instant before you can smoothly slide that volume pedal up, you realize in horror that your Gmaj7(add9) with layers upon layers of $2 fuzz circuit housed in a $500 boutique casing is already cascading off the walls of the church! Your volume pedal wasn’t engaged! Curse your modded volume pedal with its true bypass switch so that you can get that extra .01% of treble without actually having to turn the treble knob on your amp!

Quick as the meteoric rise and fall of yet another “boutique” pedal company with borderline sacrilegious churchy names, you…

A) Look disdainfully at the other guitarist. He has the bigger pedalboard anyway. It’s a foolproof plan.

B) Just crush it. Seamlessly flow into a face-melter. Underscore that pastor like it’s Pointe Break.

C) Join the rest of the congregation in staring incredulously back at the sound guy for his obvious mistake.

D) Bend down and grab the time knob of your Memory Lane and skillfully shift the cacophony of sound into beautifully glistening alien saucers landing ambiently.

E) Stare out at the congregation with your shoulders shrugged as if to say, “Ya, I really don’t know what I’m doing up here.”

F) Try to then engage your volume pedal and save it, by hitting that clunky true bypass switch…”Ka-THUNK…THUNK…thunk…thunk…thunk…”

G) Blame the Avioms.

H) Laugh a little, cry a little, pray a little.

J) Do a guitar drop and walk off the stage like a legend.

You know, just to remind us we’re probably not as rad as we just almost subconsciously always think we are. ;)


Phase 2…Hippie Delay Tolkien Church Pub

A little update from Church Project Hippie (Not Hipster) No Stage No Money Acts Tolkien Pub We Can Still Have Delay…

Well first, I’m still working on the name. But Phase 1 was, if I believe that there may be an improvement made to church by removing money from the system, then can I survive and support my family without my church employment income. And surprisingly, the answer has been yes. Phase 1 took a little longer than expected because, somewhere in the middle of it a little child appeared. (And that’s literally how it feels…one day you’re just like, wait how are there three humans in this apartment now.)

So phase 2…we’re getting settled into an actual house. With space for people to sit. And neighbors to invite. So it’s getting cool. We’re gonna start as a group of friends looking for God, not trying to replace anyone’s home church. No money, no government license, we’re going to hang out and discuss theology. If our beliefs are as real as we say they are, more “church-like” things may come out organically, either here or in our home churches, but most certainly in our daily lives. But we’ll start with discussions, and see where that goes. I’m hoping, very much hoping, to have atheists, agnostics, Baptists, charismatics, millennials, post-church-millennials, and maybe even some Blaze-readers. ;)

I’ll keep ya posted. Oh and by the way, there’s not a lot of reason that I can see that a guy with no degree can quit the only career he’s ever had, move to the beach, extend his family, move into a little house, and still be making it without a pledge drive or church plant grants, or really any financial support beyond the occasional credit card (sorry, Ramsey-ites…, hey you’re welcome here too). It really seems like God is in here somewhere.



We’re looking for You, O God. We abandoned our cathedrals and replaced them with sound systems. Our indulgences are our parking lot funds, and today Judas would be bought with a book deal instead of silver. We’ve created a maze, and now we’re lost in it. We want to hear Your voice again, and we don’t want to be told it’s You; we want to fall on our faces. Your presence shouldn’t be able to be mistaken for a well-placed minor chord or a poetic sermon ending. We want to know You again.

I think we should go acapella on this one. ;)


Turn your eyes upon Jesus.
Look full in His wonderful face.
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of His glory and grace.

Jesus on a Scissor-Lift

It’s one of our favorite stories in the Bible. I don’t know if it’s because it makes Jesus seem cool, or if it’s because of our current flavor-of-last-month Driscoll-infused manly version of Christianity, or if it’s just a great story with lots of application. But whatever the reason, Jesus walking into the temple and overturning the merchants’ tables is one of those stories I’ve heard preached dozens of times, in dozens of ways, usually culminating in the final question, What tables does Jesus want to overturn in your life?

And while the answer to that in my own life is probably, “Plenty” if not simply “All”, I’d like to just for a second take it as less of a metaphor, and more of a thing. That actually happened. You know, as if we actually believed that this guy, who was supposed to be the foretold leader of Israel’s religion, came into their religious establishments and instead, threwdown. (Yep, threwdown. Hey, I grew up in the ’90’s.)

My guess is that the religious folks, the churchgoers, thought they had it right. In life, there’s usually a few despots purposefully using religion or church for their own gain; but most of us honestly think we have it right. And I’m picturing right now being all excited to invite our fearless leader Jesus to my church. And while I’m filling out a Visitor name tag for him, I turn around and he’s quietly tearing up brochures, tossing ministry tables, walking into the supply closet and emerging with a ladder to climb up and take down banners. Maybe if we left him long enough, he’d have gotten out the scissor lift, and we hear this “Beep! Beep! Beep!” and there’s all our parishioners scrambling to get their chairs out of the way as Jesus cuts a wake through the sanctuary on the fully extended scissor lift, smashing LED stage lights with his weapon of choice, which I can only imagine would be a Duesenberg guitar.

And I wonder what my first thought would be. Probably not, Oh man, we’ve had it wrong all this time! My first thought honestly would probably be, This Jesus guy is out of control! Where’d my religion go? (I know, it’s not a “religion”, it’s a “relationship.”) So then, where’d my comfy you-hold-me-now-all-things-work-together-for-my-good relationship go? We’re stoked to raise our hands and say He’s mighty to save, but what if He’s mightily trying to save us from ourselves?

Most commentaries relay that when Jesus overturned those tables, it wasn’t just because they were selling things in church. It was because they were selling things necessary for salvation at gouged prices. Which makes a lot more sense. But I can imagine there may have been those asking, “So what’s wrong with a little profit? It’s 30 AD man, culture has changed. Do you know how many hours I put into raising those doves? A workman is worth his wages!” Just like today. “Jesus, what’s wrong with those lights? Don’t smash them! Stop tearing up those books! The profits from those feed my family! Do you have any idea how many years that took to write? What’s wrong with being paid for ministry? I’m a Levite, right? I know I don’t live in the church, or spend my life making atoning sacrifices, and spend more time researching Coldplay’s lighting sequences than I do on hospital visits. But it’s the 21st century! Things have changed! Don’t burn those concert tickets! I feed my family by charging people to have an awesome worship experience with You! Is that so bad? I know Malachi says to bring the tithe into the storehouse, and our church doesn’t support any local food banks or feed any poor people. But it’s not the same as the money-changers in the temple to tell people tithing is a necessary part of their faith when that tithe goes directly to my car payment and five bedroom house and church staff lunch, is it?”

We’re on a very slippery slope now that we’ve successfully corporatized and monetized the love of Jesus. And we can’t be surprised if He loves us enough to completely overturn our current system so that we can once again experience the pure joy of Christ Messiah, and Christ Messiah alone.

I love all the good our Christian culture has done. But I still dream of a time when Jesus becomes once again more important than church. When we no longer count bad press for our lack of care and compassion, as “persecution.” When tithes go into an actual storehouse for the poor. When pastors lead by shepherding, not by attending Starbucks leadership conferences. When we no longer feel like we have to buy a concert ticket to “experience God.” When “Christian” is no longer synonymous with any political ideal. When “worship” becomes again more than just our favorite genre. When our community leaders know us more for our help of our fellow citizens than our building permit applications. When God to us is no longer a commodity, or a sports team, or that thing we’re into, but the One before whom we tremble.


We Are Not at War

The war rhetoric is for revenue-based blog hits, while the Jesus we claim to follow had compassion even on those that killed Him. But compassion is quiet, and in our culture, quiet doesn’t sell.

What if we assumed everyone was a possible Christian, instead of assuming an impending battle with them? If we believe that everyone is built with an inherent need for God, than why don’t we view everyone as a soul seeking God, rather than an enemy combatant? The way we treat people that our same God created and wants to love is absolutely ludicrous. And very simply? It needs to stop.

We need to start actually seeking out how the God we claim to follow would have us act, and let those trying to use a war-time version of Christianity for blog hits and advertising money, see that anger and recrimination against those we claim to be trying to save, doesn’t sell to Christians anymore.

In all sincerity and love,

You Can’t Just Cut Out the Parts of the Bible You Don’t Like…

…but if you can explain them away, that’s totally cool.

We are all human. And as such, true scholarly criticism of our own thinking strongly suggests the almost near impossibility of reading or learning something without unconsciously injecting something of our own thoughts, bias, or experience into it. So then at what point do we start to question our own reading of the Bible? In other words, how many theological backflips before we start to go, ‘Hold on here.’

In my lifetime, I have seen huge changes amongst even the most fundamental churches in how we explain Jesus’ teachings on divorce in Matthew 5, Paul’s teachings on women pastors and just women in general, and the Levitical office of priests according to how it pertains to our pastors today…just to name a few. In order to explain them in their current interpretations, a great deal of “exposition” is needed. It is completely dishonest and disingenuous to say that we believe the Bible in its entirety, but use the loophole of “exposition”, or the current trendy phrase “unpacking”, to in essence get rid of the passages we no longer like or that no longer coincide with culture.

It is true that many things in the Bible need deep study. The problem is when the conclusions from that “deep study” change so constantly, when we are always so fond of quoting our last year’s trend or interpretation as absolute infallible truth, and “praying for” the poor souls who dare to question the interpretation. And more often than not, just a few short months later, we’re championing a new interpretation as infallible truth, forgetting about all the people we stepped on or turned off from God by calling truth that which we now believe to be heresy.

It’s time that us general lay Christians learn the simple basics of scholarly criticism, and not only apply it to the Bible, but what may be infinitely more important, applying scholarly criticism to our own reading and our denominations’ reading, of the Bible. If the Lord does not change, as stated in Malachi 3, then what He is trying to tell us through the Bible is either right or wrong. Pretending that our theology is complete, constant, and unchanging, while using exposition and theological “backflips” to explain away the lack of completeness and constancy, is extremely disingenuous, and we are quite quick to point out those inconsistencies and hypocrisy in other religions. If God is truth, then that truth should be able to stand up to the most trying of critical methods of study. It shouldn’t need us to explain things away. We need to start being critical (in a scholarly sense) of our own interpretations, those who interpret it, and the way the Bible was compiled. This is not news to most theologians today and in history…but to us lay Christians, this may be new territory. For some reason, we’ve been taught not to question our faith. We say this is the most important being and the most important book to ever exist. And we so often act as if they’re anything but. Some even go so far as to say our criticism of the Bible and the church are evidence of us leaving the faith. On the contrary, I believe they are evidence that we are finally starting to take it seriously.


P.S. As alluded to in the post, I am using the word “criticism” in a literary sense, to mean “the analysis and judgment of the merits and faults”, as opposed to the more colloquial meaning of baselessly deriding something.

Why Science is More Respected Than Christianity

It’s not because people hate God. It’s not because of the “war on Christianity.” And it’s not because somehow thousands and thousands of scientists are involved in a conspiracy to discredit our religion.

The truth is rarely exciting enough to make it on a meme, or a catchy sermon one-liner. And the truth is that the majority of what is considered scientific theory is peer-reviewed. That’s it. The very simple idea that one person or one research team or one school of thought cannot logically be trusted without multiple perspectives lending their expertise and diverse viewpoints. Meanwhile, the church takes each and every word of its pastor’s sermon as infallible truth; a sermon that has been reviewed by no one, and that often times (go back and listen to older podcasts) contradicts previous sermons that were also thought of as infallible truth. Simply because a prayer was said asking God to speak through the pastor. And we assume that He has, even if there are contradictory statements with previous sermons, with the Bible itself, or with the other pastor down the street who has also prayed that God would speak through him.

What is worse, that we as a church also often hang a great deal of our theology on whatever Facebook meme or out-of-context book quote we have just come across. Again, with little to no reviewing (probably no reviewing, but I’m trying to give the benefit of the doubt) by differing perspectives, or even the same perspectives. We attribute these words as the mind and will of the Creator of the Universe, without ever even double-checking, let alone putting them through a scholarly review. It’s madness.

Science has Christianity beat, and I don’t know why. If we truly believe this God deal, wouldn’t we want to make sure we were saying and learning and believing as close to the truth as we are capable? I think it’s high time we brought back the peer review in our churches, podcasts, and books, and stopped basing our week’s theology off of 140 characters and an half an hour message put together the night before. Perhaps even, structuring our entire study of the Bible as a peer review, instead of the focus on just one person whose spiritual giftings of teaching and possibly shepherding do not necessarily preclude a Tony Robbins style of church.

We continually claim to hold the keys to life, and continue to take that claim so incredibly lightly. I love you, church; and we can do so much better.


Midnight, January 19th, 2015

Have you ever had someone genuinely curious about your religion, and by the end of the conversation you’ve realized that what you thought was a following of the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth was actually little more than a socio-economical peer group following select Pauline writings?

Most of my friends are incredibly respectful of my religion; just amused at how much more they thought it would mean to me.

We can do better, and we must do better.


I just want to wish you all a merry Christmas.

I don’t want to wish you a happy advent, or come up with a new and more marketable way to say Christmas, I don’t want to fight a ratings-boosting media war on how we wish each other cheer, and I don’t want to rehearse O Holy Night so much that we miss the lyrics for the high notes, or the meaning for the modulation, and I wish that last part didn’t alliterate. I don’t want to buy Christmas, I don’t want to sell Christmas, and I certainly don’t want to buy Kirk Cameron’s coffee beans so that he can tell me Christmas isn’t about commercialism. And I don’t want to try so hard to make memories that my only memories are stressing out by trying so hard.

I just want to hold my family close, maybe see a few lights, and tell God thank you by giving to my fellow inhabitors of this earth. Thank you, Jesus, for another year passed, and blessings had, by your grace.

Merry Christmas to you all!

P.S. If rehearsing O Holy Night, Kirk Cameron’s coffee beans, or stressing through events actually does help you focus on God, which they very well might, then by all means go for it. It’s not about dogmas; just about each of us making a personal choice to worship God and Him only. And no one can make that choice but us. I hope we do.

I Am Ephesus

“To the angel of the church of Ephesus write,

‘These things says He who holds the seven stars in His right hand, who walks in the midst of the seven golden lampstands: “I know your works, your labor, your patience, and that you cannot bear those who are evil. And you have tested those who say they are apostles and are not, and have found them liars; and you have persevered and have patience, and have labored for My name’s sake and have not become weary. Nevertheless I have this against you, that you have left your first love. Remember therefore from where you have fallen; repent and do the first works, or else I will come to you quickly and remove your lampstand from its place—unless you repent.”

We have so many things right. We’re focused on trying to come to a sound theology, we’re now trying not to just stay within the four walls of our churches, and we probably work harder at ministry than other culture before us. But our problem remains, as it has for countless other cultures before us, idolatry.

I think the root of our constant struggles with idolatry can be summed up in these words from T.S. Eliot: “Life is very long.” It is very difficult for us humans to remain truly passionate about anything for an extended period of time. Our marriages, our hobbies, our families, our jobs, even our simple likes and dislikes. Much less an invisible God. So we turn to what is visible…lights, stages, churches, worship bands, pastors, flow charts, jump-cut-edited-videos with delayed piano notes over a washy guitar and floating lyrics from podcasts, and call them God.

When was the last time we were truly excited about God? Just God. Apart from worship bands, apart from the podcasts of pastors we always refer to as just their last name as if they’re a quarterback, apart from the warm feelings of togetherness at church, and apart from guitar tone. ( ;) ) I’m truly asking you to ask yourself this. Because when I did a couple years ago, I knew I was still excited about God. And when I asked again. And again. It took me a few times to truly bare my soul and realize that I thought I was excited about God because I had started calling all the elements of which we serve Him, by His own name. And that is idolatry.

What I had to finally ask myself was to remember a time when I was passionate about Jesus when it wasn’t connected to something in our culture. When was the last time I came home from church and talked about God? I would say, “God really moved through the worship music”, or “You’d never believe what my pastor said!” or “It was so good to see that person!” Is that bad? Yes, if I never seem to have an experience about just God. We have a culture of worship leaders who only worship when they’re in front of people. Worship leaders…when was the last time you worshiped God when not on stage? When not in front of people? Without a guitar? Pastors…when was the last time you studied the Bible without thinking of it in terms of a sermon or church authority? When was the last time we listened to a podcast without thinking how exciting “Chandler” is, but how amazing God is?

In our culture, God almost doesn’t exist apart from worship bands, church corporations, podcasts, and the occasional political rhetoric. When we think of God, it is almost always in those contexts. And we use the excuse, “Well it’s not perfect, but at least people are coming to God.” I’m just not satisfied with that anymore. Can people come to God and at the same time we have a proper view and passion about Him? No more excuses…I think we can, and I think it’s high time we started trying to do that, instead of hiding behind ministry as an excuse for our lackluster and rockstar-driven approach to all things God.

Our entire church culture is saturated with distractions. Distractions that were originally intended for good…and then the props became the thing itself. And then we actually pray from the stage that God would “allow us to look past all this, and just see Him.” I’m not buying that anymore. If I am having trouble in my marriage because I can’t seem to focus on my wife’s needs due to work, even though I am working for her and out of love for her to support her, it would be pretty horrifying if I were counseled to just look past it all and work harder for her needs. No, the logical and Biblical thing to do would be to go to the root of the problem and start cleaning house so that I could be passionate about her again.

It’s time to clean house. Turning over tables and smashing everything our Christian culture sells? If it’s keeping us from being passionate about just God, our first love, then yes. That may seem drastic, but so does plucking out your eye…and Jesus espouses both of those, as uncomfortable as we may be with those sentiments. We must find a way to be passionate about Jesus. My regular friends have a far different, and more often than not, better idea of what Christianity should be. They assume we recklessly follow the teachings of Jesus and are in love with Him. Because that’s what we say. It would be nice if it were true.

Just God. Not just God, and here are the super cool things we call God. The Creator died for us, and if we believe that, it should make us passionate enough to live it even when not on stage. If I haven’t worshiped Him, just me and Him, apart from music, church, podcasts, and an inviting culture, than I have left my first love.