Surviving sin since 1978
“Shazam” the Karaoke to see if the singers are good enough to get a match.
So far, karaoke 0, shazam 1
"On airplanes, I dread the conversation with the person who finds out I am a minister and wants to use the flight time to explain to me that he is “spiritual but not religious.” Such a person will always share this as if it is some kind of daring insight, unique to him, bold in its rebellion against the religious status quo.
Next thing you know, he’s telling me that he finds God in the sunsets. These people always find God in the sunsets. And in walks on the beach. Sometimes I think these people never leave the beach or the mountains, what with all the communing with God they do on hilltops, hiking trails and … did I mention the beach at sunset yet?
Like people who go to church don’t see God in the sunset! Like we are these monastic little hermits who never leave the church building. How lucky we are to have these geniuses inform us that God is in nature. As if we don’t hear that in the psalms, the creation stories and throughout our deep tradition.
Being privately spiritual but not religious just doesn’t interest me. There is nothing challenging about having deep thoughts all by oneself. What is interesting is doing this work in community, where other people might call you on stuff, or heaven forbid, disagree with you. Where life with God gets rich and provocative is when you dig deeply into a tradition that you did not invent all for yourself.
Thank you for sharing, spiritual but not religious sunset person. You are now comfortably in the norm for self-centered American culture, right smack in the bland majority of people who find ancient religions dull but find themselves uniquely fascinating. Can I switch seats now and sit next to someone who has been shaped by a mighty cloud of witnesses instead? Can I spend my time talking to someone brave enough to encounter God in a real human community? Because when this flight gets choppy, that’s who I want by my side, holding my hand, saying a prayer and simply putting up with me, just like we try to do in church."
All smiles and rot.
I just can’t seem to keep up with myself. All the inches of my sanity just scratches away at the interior of my skull. A caged monster with no leash. A terrified child without a stuffed doll. A broken heart longing to be whole.
Not right. Never right.
It occurred to me once, late at night, as my cracked soul bled salt from my tired eyes; this wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
Eternity is in our hearts. Not pain. Yet so much pain remains.
Some of us have learned to deal. Some of us mask it with makeup and work outs. Some of us drown in in drinks. Benign it with buying. Modify it with meds or kill it with cutting.
Silence it with suicide.
Yet, we all know, this isn’t how it was meant to be.
C.S. Lewis called it “The Problem with Pain.”
It’s a problem because it was never meant to be. And we serve a God that calls things that are not as though they are…
Things like pain.
It wasn’t meant to be. It was created by us, our defiance. And now, we try to make up for the lack.
But it still hurts. Emotions and blood, broken bones and hearts. Soul cries and terrifies, screams, screams screams in the dark that are never heard.
Never rescued. Never saved from the pain.
Sometimes it never goes away.
The old wounds never heal just right, the new ones only add to the scars.
Don’t tell me time heals all wounds. Only eternity has that power.
And we’re not there yet.
So the pain lingers on. Forced to limp on the crutches. Waiting to be healed. Whenever that might be. In this life or the next.
So we keep waiting. Maybe soon. Maybe soon. Soon.
Please God, soon.
Finished project. I forgot to post it last night
I painted this mural last week, I forgot to put it here. It’s a new theme I’m starting.
I’m always seeing things that say, “Make love, not war; Make Art, not war; etc.” But I want to challenge your thinking. I want to say, we ALREADY ARE at war. Even if your greatest desire is peace, and an opposing country/people/government invade your land, rape your women, steal your children, then it makes no difference. Your peace loving hippie spirt can stand there and get blown away by the forces trying to control you.
This is why I say make War with Art. We’re already at war, friends. The media and the culture are taking over our minds, invading our thoughts, raping our freedom, stealing our spirit. Well, I won’t stand for it any longer. I will fight back. I suppose this mural is my declaration of war.
Make War with Art.
Who’s with me?