change can do you good

I come to you tonight from our newly acquired rocker. It is the rocker that Lindsay and I will spend countless hours rocking our baby boy on. I look up and I see Roy’s new shelves, his bouncer, bassinet, almost finished crib, and toys that he won’t be able to play with for at least six months. I am thankful. I’m thankful for all the people that gave selflessly to help us get to this point in so many ways.

Lindsay and I first encountered the thought that follows on the eve of Valentines Day. At some point in the evening it came to our attention that this might be our last date ever as Josh and Lindsay. Soon it will be Josh, Lindsay and Roy. It’s weird for me to not put the “and” between our names and instead a comma followed by Lindsay’s name and then the “and.” And who? And a third person. And our baby boy.

The two of us will become the three of us. Lindsay and I are spending the last moments of what has been an eight almost nine year run of just the two of us. We started dating between our sophomore and junior years of high school. We went to different schools and broke up for a little over a year. We stayed friends during that year and so I think that math goes something like this. Three and a half years of dating, one and a half years of being broken up, one year of being engaged and two almost three years of being married. We’ve made all kinds of wonderful memories. Some of them hard, some of them easy, but all of them good.

And now we are enjoying these last moments of just the two of us. And can I confess that I’m sad. Now here I must be clear. I couldn’t be more excited about baby Roy coming in a few days. He was planned and we are blessed and already cherishing and thankful for him. But this…this is a good sad. It’s like the sad I felt when I said goodbye to my house, land, and lake the week after we got married and ready to move down here. It was a crescendo moment for me. I didn’t cry saying goodbye to any of my family. I didn’t cry saying goodbye to my friends, but I did cry in the foyer of my house as I knew I was leaving for the last time. O sure I’ve been back, but it was a moment that solidified a change. A change that I had chosen and was ready to celebrate, but a change still and change is always hard. I said goodbye to more than just my house in that moment. I said goodbye to my specific orientation towards a million memories. No longer would I reach back to those moments as feeling like that was just yesterday, just a couple of years ago…no I knew that, that chapter had to be ended. That feeling hurts a little and that is how I feel tonight. I’m getting ready to say goodbye to Lindsay and me. Just Lindsay and me.

It is sometimes difficult for me to know what to do with these feelings. One of the most healing things for me at Kyle’s funeral was when Burt led us in the responsive prayer. In an incredible way, in the midst of sorrow, the prayer cultivated a deep sense of gratitude in all of us towards God for all the things that collectively beamed the brilliance of the person Kyle Lake.

And so that is how I end tonight. With a prayer in my heart that celebrates all the things that have been so perfect about these last 8-9 years and in response the chorus of a thousand memories respond to each one of these things with, “we give thanks.”

If I had a million dollars

I don’t know if everyone dreams about winning the lottery from time to time, but I do. I occasionally buy a ticket and I don’t win. I believe that I don’t win for two reasons. I believe that I don’t win because of the incredibly poor odds that everyone has when they buy a ticket. More importantly I think God keeps the money out of my hands because I couldn’t handle it.

In reading McLaren’s book the Secret Message of Jesus, it strikes me that there is at least two (probably more that I can’t see) reasons why Jesus tells us to do things. I should give to the poor. That verse is that straightforward. 1. I should give to the poor because giving to the poor is a good kingdom thing. We can see the kingdom beauty when worried parents are able to feed their children and pay the monthly mortgage because they were given money. That is the literal and obvious beauty. 2. I should give to the poor because it heals me. McLaren writes, “Money, it turns out, is a cruel taskmaster; when you serve money, soon you will resent God for interfering with your humming, expanding economic kingdom.” We (I) need to be delivered from love of money.

Let me brag though. I’ve gotten better. I used to dream about buying lake houses and owning a Jaguar. I’ve heard enough Gideon Tsang to let some of those things go. If I won the lottery…at least I think I would give most of it away. I’d be like Jesus, and invest my money in all kinds of good kingdom things…as my friend Lanny says, “do some Bono shit.” I’d only keep $1,000,000. Who could blame me? After all there are plenty of passages that talk about being a good steward. I could put the last $1,000,000 in a high return account and always have money so that I could use my time for good kingdom activities.

And yet there are those passages that are altogether too costly. At the end of Mark 12, Jesus is observing people throwing their money into the money jar. This type of jar was extra loud when the rich people dropped their large sums of money. Everyone could hear the clanking. Then the poor widow comes up to the jar to drop her money. Her coins are so few and so light that they are barely noticeable. And yet Jesus sums his disciples and tells us, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”(43-44)

Dr. Gloer tells me that this is one case where the English doesn’t do the text justice. It should read something like, “has put in her whole life.” Which is interesting because in one of Jesus’ last comments in the public setting we see the metaphor…the coming sacrifice that will require his whole life.

What this text tells me is that the last $1,000,000 I’d keep to be a good steward is precisely the million that would destroy me. It would teach me never to trust, and it would render me like the ones dropping in the large sums of money to hear it clank. Giving her two small coins the lady probably helped someone in some small way, but what she really did was demonstrate that she pledged her entire existence to the kingdom and that money had no power over her.

This is a hard word.

Grrr....

The only way the whole thing could have been any cheesier is if Meredith would have been awoken from her deep slumber by a kiss from Prince Derrick, and the camera would have ended with the seven dwarfs (led by Doc of course) rejoicing.

a new problem

Some of you may have remembered my post some time ago about evolution and God’s breathing of his spirit on humans at an opportune time. You might have also remembered my good friend Tom called me on my understanding of microevolution and what turns out to be adaptation.

I had a question I meant to ask him and never did, but did get a chance to run by the good people at upsilon beta chi today. I was wondering how this complex part of microevolution or any evolution worked. Let’s say that some people move north and consequently need to develop the characteristic of hairiness in order to be warm and survive. My question was, “how is that the human body can figure out something like I’m going to need to be hairy to survive here and consequently communicate that to it’s DNA in order to change that feature in the offspring and over time change the feature of non-hairiness to hairiness?”

As the good people of from the world of biology patiently explained to me…that is not how it works. Survival of the fittest. It turns out I should have paid more attention in 7th grade biology. For the minority of you who don’t know, it works more like this. Say 100 people move north. What happens is that the 13 hairiest people survive as a consequence of already possessing the necessary feature. When the other 87 die, they must get married by default and have offspring that posses the combined trait of hairiness and hairiness to become a little more hairiness.

For those of you really educated in this stuff, I apologize for my gross oversimplification, but I need to put it a way I can understand it.

I was okay with the formula…God creates through evolution. If God created in a more “poof” and it appears fashion we tend to be o.k. with that because I think we think it matches the form of sovereignty and power we preconceive God to posses. But to say that God creates over time, through evolution seems a little more counterintuitive. Funny question arise like, “Well did God need a trial and error period to figure stuff out?” Enter my good friend Singleton who is sure to remind me about God’s relationship to time. And in the least, I must concede that the Bible communicates that 1000 years is a day to God. So maybe to God the evolution thing seems more like our preferred “poof” thing.

So here is the problem. If the new version of evolution is true, I think God seems a bit more crass. What I mean is this. The whole of the revealed salvation history throughout the Biblical narrative seems to be about grace and often about God’s identifying with the lowly, weak and poor. Take care of the Widow. Leave the extra wheat in the field. The year of Jubilee. Be like a child. The woman at the well. Blessed are the poor. Even if some of it seems impossibly idealistic to us it remains prescriptive from the almighty. So why the exception with evolution? Why if this the best way to do things, does the process champion the supreme? Those who are genetically predisposed to do well?

My wife who is always thinking in a more creative fashion suggested that it might be the mercy of God to design the process precisely the way God did. Perhaps it is mercy to the would be offspring who would be born without the necessary features for survival. I thought that was interesting.

What do you all think?

McLaren anyone?

“This is the scandal of the message of Jesus. The kingdom of God does fail. It is weak. It is crushed. When its message of love, peace, justice, and truth meets the principalities and powers of government and religion armed with spears and swords and crosses, they unleash their hate, force manipulations and propaganda.”

And a few paragraphs later

“what if the only way for the kingdom of God to come in its true form—as a kingdom ‘not of this world’—is through weakness and vulnerability, sacrifice and love? What if it can conquer only by first being conquered? What if being conquered is absolutely necessary to expose the brutal violence and dark oppression of these principalities and powers, these human ideologies and counter kingdoms—so they, having been exposed, can be seen for what they are and freely rejected, making room for the new and better kingdom?”

Brian McLaren, The Secret Message of Jesus, 69-70.

This was a hard teaching for me the first time I heard it. I heard that Jesus was crucified for my sins all my life. But what really shocked me, was when I discovered MLK’s death and passive resistance resulted in following Jesus. I can almost get it though. Christianity has room for something called eschatology. Eschatology is the answer to a lot of theology’s questions these days.

Let’s be honest. If MLK was killed and there was no future hope of his vindication, some might recalculate the worth-whileness of his efforts. Yet we know that we can rest in the comfort of God’s saving grace. How do we stand in front of tanks in Tiananmen Square? By resting in the grace of God. How do we struggle through apartheid in
South Africa? By resting in the grace of God. How do we understand Jim Elliot’s being murdered as a missionary? By resting in the grace of God and knowing that in the end it will all be worth it.

Here is what strikes me though. This will be telling of my eschatology and subsequent belief in the metaphysical—especially of my deep convictions that the cosmic conflict is indeed real—but at some point does the Kingdom of God not have to get violent? After all Satan is going to flare his tail between our metaphorical D-Day and V-Day (resurrection and the second coming) and I don’t suspect he’ll stop until forced to and violently so at that. So what happened? Do the metaphysical principles of the cosmos change at this point? Seems like the Kingdom has to get violent?

Let me be minimalist for a moment. Let’s suppose that God comes before the world burns up and at this point in history there are still people inhabiting the earth. Let’s also suppose that God still operates in this subversive politeness, whereby God overcomes by being passive and all that other good stuff. It seems to me that at the very least he has to tell the remaining people who choose a “soteriological no,” …”o.k. that’s fine, but I’m going to have to force you into your ontological hell (be it a friendly self-chosen isolation type hell), because I need to get one with the Eschaton.” This is still somewhat of a violent action. Is it not? It is at least a forceful action. And it seems to me that it is the type of action that McLaren and others often tend to ignore.

O.K. I’ve said enough, now for your always thoughtful responses.

the secret

Last week Oprah had on a panel of people who participated in the making of the D.V.D. the secret based on the book, “The Secret.” (http://thesecret.tv/) Today she had a follow up show. I have not had a chance to read the book, but think if I get the time towards the end of the semester I may bite the bullet and read it to see what all the fuss is about.

What I’m doing here is inviting you post any thoughts you might have about the book. Is it another folk religion? Is there some truth in it that just uses different language than the major world religions?

One caveat. If by some small chance you are a reader that I do not know and happen to stumble onto my blog and feel compelled to post a comment, please specify your worldview, by that I mean a religion or life philosophy that you practice.

a good fix

For those of you who don't know, my good buddy Shea Butta is in Scottland for a semester to teach em' scotties a thing or two. Consequently he has taken up blogging to communicate with us all back state-side, so check em' out. Link "livin the dream again"

the plight of meredith grey

It was some time ago last year. The only sound for five minutes was the annoying guy who couldn't sit still and was subsequently clicking his pen. Then a bold soul sighs, leans forward and says, “well, if we kill her the show will be immortalized forever, but if we bring her back you will be able to purchase season 3 on D.V.D. at a discount price in five years.”

It was true in Stranger than Fiction and it’s true now.

Looking for a fight???

I shouldn’t even post this, but it will probably help my ratings. I’m by no means a politician and don’t know much about the political frontier and consequently should not comment. I consider myself moderate, but I’m sure both sides could question me, determine my political platform and find much to critique. Anyhow…

It’s recently come to my attention that the Baptists have spoken out against the coal plants coming to the area and elsewhere around the state. First let me say, “wow, didn’t know you had it in you Baptists.” Secondly, let me say I agree. I’d love the money and all the other benefits, but I just don’t think we can afford it ecologically.

Here’s my problem. From my culturally cool progressive democratic rebel friends in my Baptist undergraduate experience I learned that it is/was wrong to legislate morality and that there should be separation of church and state. That is how they eluded the abortion/homosexual problem leveled against them by the college republicans. I began to believe. Though I had convictions about both of those issues I thought and still do that as an American citizen (mind you not as a participant in the Kingdom of God), they have those rights, be they the wrong or right decisions. As time went on and the ethical dilemmas of life did not cease I started to realize that almost no issue is devoid of some kind of moral conviction. Thus I don’t really think we can ever separate religion and state no matter how hard we try.

Here’s what kills me. I’m listening and it’s silent. I do not hear the cry from the left. I’ve yet to hear the screaming from the left about conflating our church and our politics. And let’s not pretend that the good leftist Biblicists haven’t used religion, even concerning their environmental convictions, to back what they believe. And now when there is apparently another marriage in our church/state relationship the left is silent. This leads me to believe that the original argument shouldn’t have been, “separation of church and state,” but rather the more honest, “were pissed because the Evangelicals don’t champion our banner issues.”

As one who considers himself fairly close to middle, I have to award the right a point. At least their honest about their motives.

Waiting for criticism
Carney

A Theology of Celebration on my Birthday

February 13th 2006 was the day I began blogging. It has been one year and a good deal has changed. Last year I started my blog as an attempt to take one step closer to being both emergent and post-modern. I sat in Uncommon Grounds with Shea sipping on mug full of Kyle’s Cowboy Coffee (the only thing my uncoffee appreciating taste palate could handle) trying to find music to become literate so that I could fit in by dropping names like Damien Rice and Sufjan Stevens.

Now on February 13th 2007, I live in a house, am a month from having my first child, and am in my last in class semester at Seminary. I have been a park ranger for 7 months and have even more great friends.

Listening to Gideon’s sermon on Sunday, one thing that caught my ear was his comment about a theology of celebration. I’m going to try and fight the system. So for my blogs first birthday I’m going to offer a personal prayer that embraces a theology of celebration--for this past year.

Oh divine mind (I actually like that opening of that prayer)
I celebrate the blessing of “fun” I find everyday in my marriage
I celebrate that baby Roy is healthy
I celebrate that you provided with me with a job that I love to go to everyday
I celebrate that I am able to go to a school I love and engage you in a meaningful way
I celebrate that my family has their health and that my dad got one positive post cancer report after another
I celebrate the community of believers that Lindsay and I get to participate in You with.
I celebrate my healthy fingers and toes that allow me to do things I love like mountain bike and play ultimate Frisbee
I celebrate that we are able to purchase our house
I celebrate that you’ve opened my eyes to all the ways I’ve been wrong this year
I celebrate the grace that you’ve given that enables me to admit that I am wrong
I celebrate the fact that we haven’t had to pour tons of money into car maintenance thus far
I celebrate your faithfulness
I celebrate that you let me be creative in the way I live
I celebrate that I can live in the comfort of knowing that my narrative is always rooted in the transfinite narrative of your story
I celebrate the joy I have in knowing you
And I celebrate the peace that underscores our life because of the cross

Amen

Central Texas's most ravishing

In case there are any of you who read my blog and not my good friend Craig Nash’s, please check out his blog www.clocktower74.blogspot.com and consider casting your vote for Central Texas’s finest.

Lindsay funny story two

Roy Clemens Carney has been in, what the medical field calls, a breech position for the last couple of weeks. This is not real call for alarm because Dr. Sawyer reports many babies are in a breech position at this point in the pregnancy and as long as he flips by week 36 we are o.k.

Last night we were in bed and Lindsay who has an uncanny sense of motherly things and is usually correct, pointed out to me that she thought that Roy’s head had moved down indicating that he flipped. I responded in my Southern Baptist voice, “that’s because I prayed.” This is in part to express two things. 1. my own arrogance in belief that God is my cosmic vending machine and is just waiting to answer my prayers and 2. The sarcasm of the first motif was cover up the truth of the second--namely the fact that be I a good post modern progressive emergent—indeed believe God is really in the business of answering heartfelt prayers and that prayer makes a genuine difference.

Anyhow, so the whole of my response was, “that’s because I prayed, and when I pray God moves,” to which my wife wittingly responded, “apparently Roy does too.”

She kills me.