Apparently name dropping Avatar in sermons is a common thing these days. And while I this morning, I drew a connection between the tree in Nebuchadnezzar's dream in Daniel 4 and the massive tree civilization in the film, at least one (much, much more famous) other preacher has some rather strong opinions about James Cameron's most recent work.

In short, Mark Driscoll is not happy. Not happy at all.

In case you don't want to watch the clip, Driscoll's beef with the film can be summarized thusly:

- Avatar promotes a Satanic, pagan lifestyle and worldview;
- Avatar promotes a Satanic, pagan lifestyle and worldview that is being celebrated by Christians;
- Avatar promotes a Satanic, pagan lifestyle and worldview that is being celebrated by Christians, and in doing so, Christians are teaching people that they don't need Jesus.

Of course, there are a few other points that Driscoll failed to mention:

- Avatar is a movie;
- Avatar is a movie about a ficticious species of blue, fuzzy cat people;
- Avatar is a movie about a ficticious species of blue, fuzzy cat people who live on a ficticious planet far off in the future.

As Christians, we have to understand that we have to pick our battles. If we spend every waking moment attacking everything that's un-Biblical or un-Christian in the world we live in, we'll never have time to do what we're REALLY supposed to be doing: sharing our faith in Jesus. And while Driscoll's point is, basically true - Avatar indeed does not reflect a Christian worldview - his point is absolutely irrelevant. After all, even if he convinces the world to avoid adopting the philosophy of Avatar (whatever that is), he hasn't convinced anyone to place their trust in Jesus Christ.

It's high time that we, as a body of believers and as individual Christians, were known for what we're for instead of for what we're against. Instead of ranting and raving against fictional stories written by writers simply trying to make a buck, it seems to me that our time would be better served offering hope, grace and mercy through a relationship with the living God of this universe.

And besides - at least Avatar isn't as bad as Pokemon...

Judging by the coverage in the media, the statuses of my Facebook friends, and NBC's claim that 75 million people watched figure skating one night last week, I may be the only person to utter the following statement: I can't stand the Olympics.

This may be a surprising revelation to those of you who know how much I love sports; heck, it was a surprising revelation to myself. But it's true - I simply cannot muster any enthusiasm for the games that are currently holding nearly everyone's attention around the globe. So I got to thinking - why? Why do I feel the way I do? And thus, I went on a journey through my mind to try to discover the answer. 

At first I took the righteous route. I said to myself, 'self, there's no reason to root against people for where they're from! That's bigotry!' And in fact, I do feel like this, at least somewhat - after all, my beloved Cincinnati Reds are a veritable potpourri of talent around the world. Our starting catcher and shortstop are both from Venezuela, while our most talented pitchers are all from the Dominican Republic, and our best hitter is Canadian. In fact, the Reds are so culturally diverse, when the team added their biggest free agent in years, a left handed flamethrower from Cuba, he admitted that the fact that the entire coaching staff was fluent in Spanish played a major role in his decision. So this all made sense - but, of course, it's not the whole story. After all, while I certainly have no problem with other nations, I have to be somewhat patriotic. If not, why do I love this movie so much?

So I then turned my attention to the games themselves - could it be that I just don't like the specific sports? I mean, figure skating is definitely lame; sports shouldn't be decided by judges, should they? And while things like skiing, snowboarding and curling range from quasi-interesting to downright hilarious, there's a reason we all forget they exist until we're reminded every four years. Of course, this can't be the reason, either. After all, I love the UFC, and much of their matches are decided by judges, and if the rest of the games were so lame, how in the world is this the greatest Disney movie ever?

It was then that it hit me. The real reason I dislike the Olympics is simple: I'm jealous. And I'm not just a little jealous - I'm 'the other kid stole my ninja turtle in kindergarten' jealous. I'm so envious it actually hurts a little.

Here's why: for all the bickering and fighting that goes on in America, at least once every couple years, the vast majority of people put all that aside and chant 'USA! USA! USA!' The olympics bring people for every color, background, socio-economic status and state together. For a short time, we're ALL just Americans. 

And despite Jesus' intentions and fervent prayers, Christianity has nothing like that. Instead of being united, we Christians spend our time trying to find new reasons why the church down the road really isn't part of God's people. Instead of focusing on our shared faith in Jesus, we focus on our theological disputes that have never, and will never, be completely answered. Instead of being excited that the church at large is a diverse community of people with relationships with God, we see that diversity as a threat to our own religious values.

So I'm not going to lie: I wish there was something, even if it was as silly as grown men dressed in woman's clothing gliding across a sheet of ice, that would help us to put aside our differences and, if only only for a moment, celebrate the fact that we all know Jesus. I wish there was a chance to appreciate the fact that we're all Christians regardless of what denomination we are the way that Americans can appreciate an American regardless of what political party or coast they're from. More than anything, though, I wish God's people were as excited for what God is doing in His kingdom as we Americans are for what our athletes are doing in Vancouver.

Thinking through all of this doesn't just make me jealous; it makes me sad. And on second thought, maybe the title of this blog post shouldn't be 'The Olympics Are Dumb.'

Maybe we are.

"You're not you're job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your .... khakis." - Tyler Durden, 'Fight Club'

As yesterday's NBA trade deadline passed (you know the National Basketball Association, or, as it's commonly called, the 'NBA' - it's like College Basketball, except the players get paid), I couldn't help but think of the above quote from one of my favorite movies as a teenager. The reason?

Brian Cardinal was traded to the New York Knicks.

Now, for those of you who don't watch the NBA, allow me to translate:

Brian Cardinal's expiring contract was traded to the New York Knicks.

In the NBA, there's something called a Salary Cap, which basically means that you only have a certain amount of money to assemble a full team. If you want to sign new players, you have to have the money to do so, and that means that if, say, some of the best players in the league are Free Agents this season (see: James, Lebron; Wade, Dwayne; Bosh, Chris), then teams who would like to hire them need to have money available to do so.

And that's where countless guys like Brian Cardinal enter the picture. I'm personally familiar with Cardinal from his days with my beloved Purdue Boilermakers, as his hustle and grit earned him lifelong fans in the great state of Indiana. He may not have been all that talented, but what he lacked in ability he made up in heart and hard work. For the Knicks, though, Cardinal is nothing more than the nearly $7 million dollars he will make this season, as evidenced by the fact that as soon as they traded for him, they cut him from the team. Because his contract is over a the end of the year, however, they can now use that money to sign someone they actually want. In other words, to the New York Knicks, Brian Cardinal is not a basketball player or even a human being; he's a piece of paper, with only as much value to them as they can get in U.S. Dollars in a few months.

Now, it's at this point of the blog that many of you will say, 'so what? You can value me as a piece of paper if it means I make millions to play a game!' If that's truly how you feel, however, you'd be buying into one of the biggest lies in the world: material possessions make you happy. Jesus once taught a parable comparing and contrasting the spiritual health and eternal states of a rich man and a poor man, and his conclusion was startling: having money in no way, shape, or form enhances your true value in God's eyes. As Tyler Durden put it, you are not the contents of your wallet.

It's high time that we woke up to the fact that we are not defined by what we have in this world. No amount of power or wealth or property or possessions or respect or awards or honor in this life counts for anything in the grand scheme of things. Having 'stuff' doesn't make you or I good people, and being 'rich' does nothing to impress the God of this universe. Instead, what God wants from us a life of faith, lived out with love, compassion, grace and integrity.

In other words, we need to think twice when we consider what's important in this life, and we need to understand that much of what we work for, day in and day out, will mean absolutely nothing a the end of our lives. And hopefully, once we realize what really counts and what doesn't, we can begin to prioritize what's truly valuable over what's not. That's what Tyler Durden would want from us; but he's not alone.

That's also was Jesus wants.

It was Saturday night, and the wife and I were enjoying a nice, sit down dinner at a local steakhouse. All was going according to plan when I heard the strangest thing: the voice of a small child. That I heard the voice wasn't strange in and of itself, but instead, what made it strange was what I heard the voice say:

'Hmmm.... beer is my favorite!'

It took roughly a second and a half for me to whip my head around and try to figure out what was going on at the table next to me - and lo and behold, I saw four small children at a table full of adults. They all seemed to be somewhere between the ages of six and ten, and they all appeared to be drinking twelve ounce bottles of beer. And as my senses were trying to acclimate to this startling discovery, I heard another voice - the voice of one of the adults at the table:

'Does your dad usually let you drink beer? Good - beer is my favorite too!'

Amazingly, this guy was nursing a tall glass of what I knew, for sure, was beer. And that was all I needed to do something I'm not all that proud of - I silently judged each and every person involved in the bizarre twenty seconds I had witnessed. The children, of course, were destined to be alcoholics; after all, while I'm not a doctor, I'm fairly certain that a seven year old liver isn't meant to cope with the effects of alcohol. Furthermore, all the adults at the table were going to jail, and whichever ones were the parents of the beer chuggers should lose their parental rights; after all, while I'm not a DFS worker, I'm pretty positive Uncle Sam frowns on watching your elementary age kids get drunk. And make no mistake - I wasn't letting the restaurant off the hook either. The waiter should be held responsible, and in turn, the management; after all, while I'm certainly not a police officer, I am 100% sure that when you serve alcohol to minors, there's a fine involved.

In a matter of moments, I was all up in arms, my panties were sufficiently wadded, and I had turned into one of those women from movies in the 1950s who peered through their blinds at the no goodniks across the street. And just as I was about to wag my wrinkled finger of justice in the face of those who were making a mockery of everything good and holy in the world, one of the children turned his bottle around.

It was root beer the children were drinking. I'm an idiot.

There's a reason why Jesus taught us not to judge other people, and there's a reason that Paul taught us to let God be the one who judges His people - we're terrible judges of character. We get things muddled, we get caught up in appearances, and we're blinded by our own baggage and prejudices. Simply put, none of us are good judges of character, and so it's best that we leave that let God do His job.

And when we do that, we can be about the business of doing our job - showing love and grace, representing Jesus, and using the opportunities presented to us to share Christ with the world. It's not our job to condemn other people or devise intricate scenarios that send the entire world to hell; it's our job to show other people what we've found out about heaven. 

I wish I could say I've learned my lesson, and that this will be the last time that I pronounce judgement on people before I have all the facts. But of course, if that were the case, I'd have all this under control by now. No - I'm a moron. And because I'm a moron, and because I think my stupidity is pretty normal, I think it's high time you and I focused on what we've been given to do instead of trying to do what God has said He will do.

After all, He's much better at His job than we are.

 

There are certain people that, for Christians especially, should be be above reproach. After all, some people have reached such a status that they should have earned the benefit of the doubt by now, and any criticism leveled against them goes beyond anything constructive and is just plain mean. And one of thse universally praised people is none other than C.S. Lewis.

If you've never heard of Lewis, you certainly know his work. His famous literary work, 'The Chronicles of Narnia,' (a.k.a. 'Lord of the Rings' with a lion playing Jesus) has been portrayed countless times, most famously in film by Disney in recent years. And for believers, that's the least of his accomplishments. Lewis was a gifted and passionate Christian apologist, defending the faith as long for as long as he lived. For all that, and more, it seems unfathomable to criticize the man - that would be like kicking a puppy or mocking your sweet, old grandmother.

That's what I thought, too - until I ran across the following quote from a blog from a good friend of mine:

"If I read the New Testament aright, it leaves no room for “creativeness” even in a  modified or metaphorical sense. Our whole destiny seems to lie in the opposite direction, in being as little as possible ourselves, in acquiring a fragrance that is not  our own but borrowed, in becoming clean mirrors filled with the image of a face that is not ours." - C.S. Lewis, 'Christian Reflections.'

No creativeness? Being as 'little as possible ourselves'? Really?

Unfortunately, this idea has been thrown around in churches for as long as I've been in them. When a person comes to Christ, the expectation is to start looking, acting, and talking just like everyone around them - no watching certain TV shows and movies; only listening to Christian radio and music; only voting for the 'Christian' politician (or at least the ones that are endorsed by Christian groups). In other words, we're taught, now that you're a Christian, there's no thinking for yourself or having your own personality - that was apparently drowned in the baptistery!

Now look - I'd accept this, I suppose, if that's what Jesus truly expected. Of course, nothing could be further from the truth. As the apostle Peter wrote to the church in the New Testament,

God has given each of you a gift from his great variety of spiritual gifts. Use them well to serve one another. Do you have the gift of speaking? Then speak as though God himself were speaking through you. Do you have the gift of helping others? Do it with all the strength and energy that God supplies. Then everything you do will bring glory to God through Jesus Christ. All glory and power to him forever and ever! Amen. - 1 Peter 4:10-11, emphasis mine

The point is this: the Bible paints the picture that the God we serve is a creative one who has made us all uniquely in his image. And while we're supposed to conform our hearts and minds to his, if we were to try to look like Jesus, it'd be awful tough for most of us, considering that vast majority of Christians aren't Jewish carpenters living in the Middle East.

What God expects from us, then is NOT that we give up who we are; instead, we're called to incorporate Christ's teachings into every part of our lives, and in doing so, we'll be the best people we can possibly be. But as disciples of Christ and citizens of heaven, we're still people, with our own unique quirks and interests and personalities. The fact is that if we gave all that up, we'd no longer be the people God made us to be, with our own giftedness from God's variety of spiritual gifts.

So embrace who you are, and allow God to mold who YOU are into the best YOU that YOU can be. C.S. Lewis may have been a whole lot of things, but right all of the time is not one of them. And you know what? That's ok.

After all, if he was, he wouldn't have been him.

(note: I'm well aware you're probably tired of the Super Bowl talk by now. For adding to the noise, I apologize - but you know what? I haven't had one of my teams win a title since 1990. So you'll have to forgive my excitement...)

Going for it on 4th and 1. The onside kick. Jumping the route on a pick six.

Every big sports event has key moments that people remember - it may be a home run or a half court shot, a touchdown or a breakaway goal. And Sunday's Super Bowl was no different. For as long as the 'Who Dat Nation' exists, people will always remember what it was like to see the New Orleans Saints topple the heaviliy favored Indianapolis Colts, and they'll remember exactly what plays turned the tide.

As it turns out, though, Sunday's game was a fantastic example of a contrast in styles. As legendary NFL writer Peter King points out, the Saints won Sunday because they refused to play conservatively. They refused to play things by the book, and instead, took chance after chance in an attempt to not only avoid losing, but to actually win. Sometimes it worked (the onside kick, jumping the route), and sometimes it didn't (going for it on 4th and 1), but at the end of the day, their aggressive attitude, as much as anything else, dictated that the Saints would win.

I think there's a powerful spiritual message there. It seems to me that over the last twelve years of being a Christian, I've seen at least two types of followers: those who try not to lose, and those who try to win. The first group of people SEEM righteous; after all, they try to do exactly what the Bible says no matter what, and they spend their time analyzing every single point of Scripture just to make sure they're 100% right. And regardless of their motives, at the end of the day, their meticulousness ensures that they never make any mistakes at all.

Unfortunately, that same attitude causes people to not take risks - and for us to fulfill our potential for the Kingdom of God, risk taking is something we'll absolutely have to get used to. Serving God isn't supposed to be safe or comfortable or easy, and if we're trying our best to share our faith, make disciples, and show radical love to the world around us, we're GOING to make mistakes. The good news, though, is that God knows this - as Paul wrote to the church at Ephesus,

God saved you by his grace when you believed. And you can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God. Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done, so none of us can boast about it. For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago. - Ephesians 2:8-10

According to the New Testament, God has good works he wants us to carry out for him. But with that expectation comes the assurance that not only has he already saved us, but he did so completely independently of our own goodness. In other words, as we serve God, we don't have to be afraid of failure or timidly play it safe; we can trust in God's grace, that he is sufficient, even when we are not. And because we can trust in HIM, we can believe in ourselves.

It's high time that we stopped trying to avoid losing and instead, boldly play to win. We don't have to worry about what's 'religious' or what's 'orthodox'; we can, instead, simply be guided by love and God's Spirit, and when we fail, we can know that Jesus is right there. He'll pick us up, dust us off, and encourage us to go back out there and try again. And when we're bold in our faith, and we serve God while trusting in his grace, there's only one possible result: we'll be just like Mr. Brees and the New Orleans Saints.

We'll be champions.

It's been a few years now since I created an account on facebook.com. And by 'I,' I mean, 'one night during a fantasy baseball draft Stephanie made it for me.' But I digress. Facebook is great, because you can reconnect with people you haven't seen in years - no matter where they are or what they've done with their lives, you can find just about anybody with the click of a mouse. I can't tell you the joy I've found from seeing old friends, catching up with old acquaintances, and, of course, being stunned at the what people are up to (both good AND bad).

Of course, there is a problem with facebok that many of us don't think about. See, you can reconnect with people you haven't seen in years - no matter where they are or what they've done with their lives, you can find just about anybody with the click of a mouse. And I can't tell you the guilt and shame that you can feel when you stumble across the page of someone you'd rather NOT see again.

It's happened to all of us: you're on someone else's profile, and you see a name you recognize. It may be a friend of a friend, or it may be someone you used to be close with. It could be just dumb luck, since people change their names. But no matter how it happens, suddenly you're on someone's profile you never wanted to see again. And as you are, instead of simply closing the window, you end up browsing their page... and in your mind, you re-live something you never wanted to re-live.

This happened to me yesterday, and I'm not going to lie - it was pretty upsetting. It's amazing how our past can come back to haunt us when we least expect it, how you can go from everything being fine to remembering things from years past that still get to you. And it's truly stunning how fresh these feelings can be; it wasn't two minutes until I felt like a scared, ashamed little kid over something that I'd left far, far behind.

Our mistakes are funny like that. No matter how long ago they were, they creep up when we least expect them. And it's times like these when a specific passage of scripture runs through my head over and over. It's from the book of Philippians, written by the apostle Paul, a man who knew a thing or two about having skeletons in his closet. He wrote, about his relationship with God,

I'm not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don't get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I've got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I'm off and running, and I'm not turning back. - Philippians 3:12-14 (The Message)

The fact is that each one of us has things that we're ashamed of, mistakes in our lives we'd rather not share with anyone. But we have a God who understands, and loves us no matter what. He's not in heaven with a cosmic checklist, reminding us day in and day out that we're scum. Instead, he's reaching out to us, encouraging us to keep going, and telling us that we never have to go to those dark places in our lives again.

Sometimes I love facebook, and sometimes I hate it. I suppose that's mainly because sometimes I love myself, and sometimes I have nothing but hate for the life I've lived. At the end of the day, though, there's one constant in our lives that we can turn to, in every situation, no matter what we've done or where we've been.

And that, friends, is someone our past can never change.

As I sit and type this, my belly is full. And considering it's not even time for lunch, that can only mean one thing: I went to McDonald's for breakfast.

Ever since I was in high school and I discovered that I could sleep for an extra fifteen minutes instead of partaking in the 'most important meal of the day,' I've skipped breakfast nearly every day. And what began as something lazy turned into something else entirely - I've now trained my body to wait several hours before I eat, and so typically, breakfast gives me a stomach ache. I know - I'm weird. But despite my oddities, there IS one exception that I make from time to time: McDonald's breakfast menu. Whether it's the Hotcakes that beat anything at IHOP, the Sausage McMuffins that are a steal at only $1, or the scientific wonder that is the McGriddle, it's tough for anyone to beat Mickey D's when it comes to breakfast fare. It's truly the best $4 you can spend before 10:30 in the morning.

And yet, as I enjoyed the syrupy, buttery, and greasy goodness that was my breakfast today (topped off with an ice cold Coke!), I couldn't help but think about what a sad state of affairs this all is. I mean, McDonald's is the world's biggest hamburger chain - and yet, there are somewhere between eight and eight million other places I'd rather get a burger from than McDonald's. McDonald's should be famous for their burgers, but considering they make them with Grade F muskrat meat, it's hard for me to even choke down a Big Mac. It's amazing - a hamburger joint that makes terrible burgers, but fantastic breakfast. Somehow, while I imagine they'll take my money no matter what, I can't help but think that this is a far cry from what was planned when the business opened seventy years ago.

Unfortunately, there are so many churches and Christians today who have adopted a McDonald's method of ministry - as long as people are eating, it doesn't matter what it is. Sure, Christ made it clear that we're to preach the gospel, but as long as people are listening, who cares? And yes, everyone knows our first, second, and third goals as the body of Christ are to make disciples - but it'll still count if we're financially secure and fill the seats in the sanctuary... right?

We're all guilty, from time to time, of settling for great hotcakes when we're supposed to make a decent burger. But at Ashland Christian Church, we want to do everything we can to make sure that we're not just doing SOMETHING, but we're doing the RIGHT thing. That's why you see our mission and method statement plastered everywhere on this website, on church publications and on the wall on Sunday mornings - by striving to Connect, Call, and Cultivate, we're not just hoping to exist or to look good in the filter of the American Church, but instead, we're making it our one, singular goal to make disciples by preaching the gospel.

People can get full off of any church or any teaching at any time. What we have to concern ourselves with is making sure that we're filling people with the right things, and in doing so, we're producing what God wants - disciples for his kingdom.

And when we do that, we'll be doing much more than making people fat!