Immediate disclaimer to Internet hall monitors: This article is not meant to throw Al Gore under the bus. That would be an inappropriate use of carbon resources to fire up a nasty fume spitting bus just to make a point. The point of this piece is to examine one aspect of the story from a spiritual viewpoint. First, some background is in order. Al Gore has made an amazing personal comeback with his global warming documentary. I will not debate the claims of his film here. I did write about being green and evangelical in an earlier post. Instead I want to focus on a very inconvenient truth that all of us battle. We are natural born hypocrites. All of us. Gore outlined a list of sacrifices that we could all make to help the environment. Use a clothesline instead of the dryer. Drive a hybrid. Cut back on the thermostat and home energy consumption. But Al Gore’s personal lifestyle severely damaged his message. (Hint to Christian
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I am not a crier. So it was a bit out of character when the tears started flowing yesterday as I drove through the canyon in downtown Dallas. I blame Lindsay for this event. Lindsay is my bride’s cousin who moved to Texas recently. She already loved country music so that saved us some time to indoctrinate her. We love having her in Big D but she is going to have to stop introducing me to songs that make driving dangerous. Lindsay told us about a song that we just had to hear. So I downloaded it to the trusty iPod and fired it up as I drove to work yesterday. The song is called Tough and it is performed by Craig Morgan. If you know much about our past year you will quickly see why this song had the Old Yeller/Field of Dreams effect on the eyeballs. The lyrics start innocently enough… She’s in the kitchen at the crack of dawn Bacon’s
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I will not complete the sentence. My first reaction is to fill in the blank because I was disgusted by the comments that the talk show host made about the Rutgers basketball team. In one 30 second strafing he demeaned a school, a race, a sport, and a gender. I have written a great deal about civility in the public discourse. I have to confess that I am losing heart. Internet forums make cowards courageous. You can write things to me from the cave of anonymity that you would never say to my face. The rules at my site have been consistent. This is not an open forum. We have one basic rule at “Bad Christian” World Headquarters. Verily, verily, all words that proceedeth out of thy posts and thy comments shall be civil…thus saith the one who payeth the server bills. Thy vile words shall be cast forever into the sea of delete and I will blocketh thee forever. King James
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America lost a cultural icon this weekend. Dictionary.com lists one of the definitions of icon as “one who is the object of great attention and devotion; an idol”. I am pretty sure that Johnny Hart would hate that description. Hart was the creative force behind the comic strip B.C. and he shared the byline for The Wizard of ID. I think that Johnny Hart would hate my description because it would elevate him to status that Hart reserved only for Jesus Christ. The Associated Press reported this weekend that Hart died at the age of 76. There are at least two things that I want to emulate from the life of Johnny Hart. The first way I would love to imitate Hart is in his passing. Bobby, his wife of over fifty years, noted that he suffered a stroke and died at his storyboard. I can’t control how I go but I can control how I live the days I have left. Country group
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A Peanuts comic strip features Charlie Brown’s sister Sally struggling to spread frozen butter on her toast. Finally she exclaims, “Nobody told me life was going to be this hard!” I can understand Sally’s frustration. Life is hard. Sometimes even more difficult than frozen butter. Things happen that were not in the brochure. Or at least that is what I once believed. In fact that very information is in the brochure. The Bible is very clear that life will be a journey of struggling to spread frozen butter and worse (that is a paraphrase). Much worse. The “frozen butter times” are part of the journey. God has given us a wonderful gift that we too often leave unwrapped. Even if we have unwrapped this gift we too often leave it unused in the toolbox. The gift is laughter. The following excerpt is from my sporadically selling book “Bring’em Back Alive – A Healing Plan for those Wounded by the Church.”  I believe a sense of humor is one of God’s gifts
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There was an interesting article in USA Today by Diane Cameron. The piece was entitled We are Easter People and here is a brief excerpt. One of the lowest points in my life occurred years ago when I was living in Washington, D.C., at Easter time. My older sister had recently died and both of my brothers were seriously ill; my best friend was leaving town, and on top of that I was questioning my work. In my journal that April I wrote, “Am I depressed?” When I read those pages now I laugh and shake my head. “Depressed?” That I even had to ask. In that long year I thought I’d never laugh again, just as I thought I’d never again feel love, the joy of easy friendship, or the satisfaction of good work. I went to church that Easter out of both habit and desperation. I had grown up in a church-going family. It was what we did. And so to honor the family
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I fly way too much. I have amassed nearly five million airline miles over the past twenty-five years of traveling. That is a lot of bad omelettes, delays, and bruised knees from incredibly unaware passengers who recline their seat backwards at warp speed. But there is one part of flying that still fills me with awe. Take-offs on cloudy, nasty days always reveal the nervous flyers. As the plane thunders down the runway and rises into a soupy overcast mix the nervous flyers grip the armrest tightly and glance anxiously out the window. Nerves are not soothed by seeing nothing but gray through the tiny portals. These takeoffs are usually accompanied by bumps, shudders, and stomach churning drops. The pilots always cheerfully glosses over the turbulence ahead. “We will have a little light chop as we head out”, the captain tells us before takeoff. Not long after lift off you begin wondering what “heavy chop” might feel like. Today was one of those
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