Settling for more?

The idea of settling for less has always had a negative connotation for me. Our desires are often too weak, right? Yet, it has become glaringly apparent for me this past week that not only is less often more, that more can ruin even the most magical of things.

I need only reference the latest Pirates of the Caribbean installment, On Stranger Tides. For me, the Pirates franchise represented fun and calculated exhilaration. The weaving of adventure, myth, epic, charismatic and whimsical character with a layered (and oft) convoluted story arc made for a can’t miss entertaining experience. With the sunset of the trilogy, came a new dawn of promise in future releases. The potentiality was enormous. Could the professional creative geniuses replicate and continue to enthrall us on exciting fantastical seafaring journeys? Well, they could have, but they apparently opted not to.

Everything, and i mean everything, reeks of mediocrity here. Stranger tides indeed. Even if you had problems with the other sequels to the highly touted original, you at least knew that the creative trusts were trying. They went for bigger. They pushed what was conceivable in film direction and depiction. It kept getting weirder, but it was still believable in this mythical world that had been created. But i ask, “Where did that world go?” I suppose At World’s End truly meant that everything in this world would now change.

Look no further (yet, i will) at Captain Jack Sparrow. The darling of this series, the sole reason for its success and popularity. Who is this character now at the forefront? No longer are there ulterior motives. The exiled man who once saved his sole bullet for the death of his mutinous first mate, is now apparently so chummy with him, they share rum and stories together. His selfishness is replaced by out of nowhere selflessness. He’s not even funny anymore. This character looks and talks like Jack Sparrow. There’s plenty of flamboyancy, swinging from trees, diving from impossible heights, incalculable escapes, etc. Yet, are we to believe that the man who survived Davy Jones’ Locker is so frivolous and good hearted now? Did he finally find his peanut? This rearranging of the main character would be travesty enough to doom this film. But there’s more…

The whole story itself is weak. Am i to understand that the creative team had all these well-developed engaging characters, added Blackbeard to the fray, and a saucy Spaniard love interest for Sparrow and squandered it with a shallow and unsatisfying romp through some foliage to bring me to a predictable fountain of youth which-glass-should-i drink Princess Bride moment? There was no treachery or backstabbing here. Just a straightforward linear bore of a ‘race’ to get to the fountain first. If i wanted that, i’ll watch the first and third Indiana Jones movies. Just because you throw in some forced pirate wit (and it’s all forced this time around, nothing seems timely or surprising) and a mermaid love story and thats On Stranger Familiar Tides.

I personally was looking forward as well to a new thematic score, that could probably never surpass the previous ones, but at least offer something new and hopefully rival the great Pirates theme pieces we have come to know and cherish. Yet another let down. It seems they followed suit here as well, regurgitating past themes and offering little inspiration to back this uninspiring tale. Upon further thought i’m finding it rather appropriate actually. Adding insult to injury are the woeful seven tracks of dance remixes to these insipid recent themes. It’s depressing how cheesy this whole thing is!

I could go on, but there seems little point. Perhaps George Costanza was onto something, leaving on a high note. I would never have guessed that one (or many) could single handedly destroy a franchise as good as the Pirates one, with the ingredients at their disposal. I can’t hardly believe it even as i sit here and assess it. Yet, it happened and unless something very drastic occurs, i fear this will continue to be the trend as they pursue making -gulp- more.There was one time i would have eagerly anticipated that possibility. But that was before my viewing of this movie’s midnight release.

You would think that Pirates would have learned the lessons of the great sequel/prequel tragedies of Star Wars and Indiana Jones. Here’s to the hope The Hobbit doesn’t make the same mistakes. Perhaps there is something to the idea of enjoying things in moderation. Too much of a good thing doesn’t transform it into something great. More often, it just becomes disgusting when we realize we’ve taken one bite too many.

What story are you telling?

Are you living a good story?

What story are you telling? from Rhetorik Creative on Vimeo.

Get the book here from Don Miller here - http://www.amazon.com/Million-Miles-Thousand-Years-Learned/dp/1400202981/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1276717752&sr=1-1

A Visit of Joy in the Shadows.

Leave it to a sleepless night, thanks to a rather lengthy nap during the last daylight hours, to put me in the mood to think and subsequently prove it. Or disprove it, depending on your perspective. On my mind is the topic of love, of joy, of the longing that resides in the heart, or soul, or consciousness or whatever is most often more perceptible right before sleep. If sleep is allowed to come. In my case, i may as well record some of these thoughts so i can attempt to recollect them and maybe process them later.

Often, i feel like i need to save thinking (writing) on a certain topic so as to give me a more adequate time to contemplate and really nail what i believe down. But then, time is certainly elusive and i let the opportunity slip away by forgetting anything i was planning on building upon. So intertwined in this are musings about a book i am about to finish entitled, A Severe Mercy. This was a very gracious surprise that i was able to read and here are some early morning thoughts some of it has provoked.

It is apparent to me that i am better grasping the concept of joy. Eldredge was probably the first to articulate it in such a way that i understood and recognized some of the meaning for what this familiar word contains. Lewis took me to the next level, as he was probably Eldredge’s master in teaching him, by offering further proof of what it was and the power behind it. His autobiography, Surprised by Joy, many biographies later written about him, and an earlier work, The Pilgrim’s Regress all helped paint my picture of joy with incremental clarity as i have taken these in through the years.  Now, as i read about it in this book, one in which he is very much a part of as well, i have internalized it with my own experience and will try to make sense of it for myself in applying it to my current circumstances.

I believe that when one attempts to find love in another person, that some deep and sacred journey is being undertaken. Of course, when we are younger and have everything to lose, we probably went ahead and lost it by ignorantly entering into relationships that would both open our eyes to knowledge of good and evil and make us the worse for it. It is the cosmic cycle, finding out too late what one ought to have guarded intently, desperately. Yet, you have no idea what you even have until it’s been taken away. I am sure many can relate, as it may unite the human condition as much or moreso as anything else might try.

In my trial and error approach, i learned what i wanted and held very tightly to my vision of what love was and could offer. I seemingly found it in many girls throughout my college years, only to see these possibilities slip away one by one. After a while, one wonders if the mark has been set too high, as an imaginative standard could be impossible to realistically meet. Enter those relationships you know won’t lead to anything but momentary satisfaction, which is no satisfaction really at all. So even those end, and i am left wondering what to even want anymore, if the whole thing is just unattainable and elusive, and should simply, maturely make it work with someone the best we both can.

In this regard, it is my opinion, that many people find themselves here and act out this script. How else can one explain the massive divorce rate, or even the vast amounts of unsatisfactory Christian marriages? I think we all probably go into this thing called love with preconceived ideas and end up utterly discouraged because of the truth behind it all: Though we are made for relationship and intimacy, it is never the end for which we are to find joy. Yet, what is felt stronger than this attraction? I can think of nothing. Loneliness will get the best of even the strongest, most powerful, fiercest brute. So we chase it with everything we have, with everything we watch, with everything we desire. And ultimately are doomed for emptiness.

The sad truth is, as the birds begin to beckon one another in the darkness, we find ourselves tapped into only part of the story and i think that is our undoing with which the Enemy loves to ensnare us. Give us partial truth, the half story, and we end up confused and frustrated, upset at God for giving us desires, that which is natural to our being but never finding contentment in any of our pursuits, much less a cup that runneth over. Chasing love seems to promise an end of true everlasting fulfillment, but it cannot be so. It brings about new frustrations, new awarenesses of want, fresh disappointments, and countless opportunities of defeat.

But in the chase, we feel alive. I know and can recall the hope evident in each pursuit. I can point to those moments in my life because they seemed so momentous and i felt very much alive in attempting their acquisition. Failing to meet my desire, i begin again in each new season of life. Yet, i shall never find true satisfaction in any future attainment of love as surely as life couldn’t be had if anything had worked out in my past relations. The very best love i could ever experience here will surely and utterly fail me, because the joy is in the yearning, and the yearning cannot be met here. I am convinced of that. Nothing and no one on this terrestrial sphere is capable of answering the call of my heart. What i may find is compatibility, companionship, human intimacy, but the joy that wells up in my heart over love songs of the past, the heroism and romance in movies, the imaginary scenes of orchestral scores, the haunting of both the full and lonely memories seems too great a thing to find amidst the brokenness and terminus here. What i can imagine, only eternity can meet. It must.

What am i left to do then? Abandon hope, lose heart, kill desire? These are certainly options at our disposal and i fear many take them up to dull the pain of unmet longing. Perhaps more risky is to fight for love, to hold onto every instance of beauty, to stay in the moments of fear and loss rather than running for the quick fix. But certainly greater the reward for these things, for in them are the glimpses and moments of joy. They are gone as soon as they unknowingly come. Yet, i believe life is made fuller through them, and our appetite is whetted for what we truly were created to hunger for.

I am left then to seek these things, and set my trajectory on a Kingdom. It is not of this world, but can be made manifest here through my search. It shan’t last long, but a promise of other things coincides with the search. Inherent in the command is the reality that it won’t, can’t be finally found here. May that not diminish my resolve to keep at it, reminding myself every so often that Jesus knew He was telling us to go after what we’d never fully grasp or acquire.

This may be the secret of joy. Or i could be dreaming. Which may not be as mutually opposed as i just thought…

An homage to Lost (or I’m a nerdy fantasy fanboy tryin’ to save my own skin but so are you. Sooo. Arrre. Youuu.)

‘What’s the point of it?
What’s the use of stories that aren’t even true?’
Haroun                                                                    

Ok here we go. Without knowing where this is going to take me, i am going to going to gush over Lost. It may give things away, known as spoilers, to those who do not watch the show on a regular basis. And, at the same time, may not make any sense to anyone, which is somewhat true to form in all things Lost. But i think i will begin there:

The show is called Lost. Innocently, the show begins in its first season by stranding castaways on an Island that is seemingly unable to be found. Hence, Lost. Easy right? Innocent, straight forward, leave your brain and imagination at the door. Right? Um, no. What you get yourself into by playing right into the creators’ hands by watching Season 1 of this epic yarn is an experience that forces you to look deeper, ask longer, and think on a whole ‘nother level. A different level. A metaphysical and philosophical and allegorical and pop-cultural and theological and hypothetical and mystical level. Not what you sign up for when watching TV shows is it? Well then just bail like many already have. Being lost while viewing Lost isn’t abnormal. I think that’s the point for these storytellers. But Lost speaks more to real life than i would have ever imagined a show could.

I’m about to say something that, coming from me, is going to sound hyperbolic. Outlandish. Impossible. I wouldn’t have believed it myself coming from a friend or reading it on a blog. I’m saying it anyway. I believe that the creators/writers/producers of this tale are our modern day representations of Grimm, Lewis, Tolkien, Macdonald, etc. In fact, i’m searching my mind for any that might stand in the gap in between those whom i have named and these present day artisans. I cannot come up with anyone and the reason is simple enough. What most popular authors/storytellers do is simply take a formula that was once revolutionary and imitate it. Copy it. Not that what is produced isn’t good on its own or creative even. It simply follows suit for what has proven successful in the art of story. I’ve enjoyed many a modern media presentation (book, movie, TV series) because they all have elements that make up quality entertainment. However, what the genuises of Lost have done is groundbreaking. They unassumingly seem to follow the trend, but slowly and steadily allow you to come to the realization that this is not what you bargained for. Sometimes this is done subtley. Sometimes not so much. And this is why people either love it or hate it. Become absolutely entrenched in it, or become so mystifyingly disgusted by it. Without hoping to come across too judgmental, it is my opinion that those who give up are better suited for the lackluster forms of ‘entertainment’ so prevalent today. In the words of the pastey sage, “Why don’t you take this coloring book and go sit in the corner.”

In this, the sixth and final season of Lost, it has become apparent that all the anticipation and excitement over a television series is warranted. There are clues and insights into other literary works jammed into each episode, acknowledging influences that span mediums and genres. There are anagrams, mythologies, and allusions to many of the great thinkers of history. And to muddy the water further, not only do they blur the distinction between good and evil, they keep you guessing the whole time as to what side to actually pull for by altering your perceptions of each.

**Spoiler Alert**
[I am about to reveal a for instance. If you haven't kept up with Lost but hope to someday, do yourself a favor and stop reading. The show is best served purely. It never does anyone any good to eat from the knowledge of good and evil tree, so stay childlike. For those with apathy towards the show or are up to date, read on.]

…

OK, i changed my mind. I am unable to wax on about the intricacies of Lost without seeing its finish. There is much i do not know and much i probably never will. But i am in for the ride. And that is what makes this story so compelling. It speaks to my humanity about all that i do not know about the universe, even though forced to live in it. Without mystery and imagination, we would surely be reduced to arrogant prigs – and many indeed are susceptible to this by choosing to live with a figured-it-all-out attitude. This mentality creeps into every branch of life – politics, sciences, art, and even, perhaps especially, the church.

I have found in this show, not reality as i see it, or the most accurate depiction of everything i believe, but something that indeed teaches me about humanity and the world we find ourselves in. It shows how little i appreciate this place and how hurt the people around me are. It helps me grasp how God might see my life and circumstance from an altogether holy perspective. It inspires me to be ever becoming, looking to be more complete, a truer image of who i currently am. Is this too high of praise of a television show? Perhaps, but it is owed to those who have crafted it, and continue craft it til the end.

Oz. Narnia. Wonderland. Middle Earth. What’s the use of stories that aren’t even true? Add now The Island to the list of places of fantastical lore that teach us how to live better in our own reality.

A Lesson in Image from Russell of Survivor

I am so image-conscious. It is unfortunate because lost in the necessity to preserve an appearance that displays moral and ethical character, is a damaged and afflicted heart. It’s why spiritual leaders across this nation fall. It’s why, ittered across the pages of Scripture, we find men and women bent on self-preservation. It’s why i attempt to control things every day that i am alive, which often leads me into sin. And not just the sin of not doing the good i know i ought. If only that were the case. But to chase evil. A moment of impatience. A frustrated grudge. A prolonged bout with lust.  It is not difficult for me to maintain belief in the doctrine of total depravity, it is all around me and in me.

What i hate about this is that i hide it. We all do. We go about our lives under the pretense that everything is working as it should. And this is the lie i fall for often in the midst of my life as a public minister. In an age of blogs, facebook and twitter, where we have no lack of knowledge, we get to control the information. If we want people to know we are sad, we’ll status update. If a fallen athlete wants to ‘come clean,’ he or she can hand pick who will be at the press conference, and keep them from asking any questions if he or she so desires. If we want to appear righteous before men, we can accomplish this for spans of people who are foolish enough to take us at face value. Or profile picture value.

So, isn’t ironic i then delve into issues such as these in a public way? For all to read, if all were interested. I obviously succumb to the image enhancing tools at my disposal. And yet none of this matters in the least. It matters not who i impress while on this sin-stained earth. So what if i can appear righteous amongst fellow sinners?

I am hit with this, as i contemplate the latest installment of Survivor. Yes, i have work to do, a test to study for, but i opted for entertainment first. It is gracious of God to use base things such as this to grant me some perspective. This year is a reunion show, a chance for past contestants from the last 20 seasons to compete for title of Ultimate Survivor. As in every inital episodes of new seasons, the rather large group of 20 is split into teams. They categorized them this year, as either a tribe of Heroes and Villians. Probably my favorite Survivor of all time, and the no doubt the most controversial,  villian Russell has an uncanny nact for prophesying how things will play out. When the Hero tribe went to the first tribal council of the season, he remarked offhandedly, about how the heroes get to now be villians: “They’re gonna stab somebody in the back.  They’re over there being villains.” Tonight, this was played out in full. Division and tempers flared in the Hero camp when they had to once again vote someone out. This time, however, lines were drawn in the proverbial sand, and when strong words were said, almost everyone got involved. The ramifications of this will prove disasterous for this tribe down the road imho.

So it’s no secret, i often cheer for the villians in this game. Why? Because at least they are honest and open about how they are playing the game. To say that you are playing with integrity when your whole goal is to outlast everyone, is beyond hypocritical and shallow. But this also applies to life. We can walk around pretending we are better than other people and utilize comparative morality in justifying our issues.  It doesn’t do us any good! Especially since there is an impartial God ruling over all who knows us at our deepest heart level. There’s no hiding there. There’s no fooling Him with our facades. And His impression of us is the one that matters and not the people we are spinning our wheels trying to look good in front of.

God, break me from the temptation to act all put together when i am clearly not. Instill in me a remembrance to run to the blood-stained cross when my sin-stained life threatens me with the desire to cover up this reality. May i find little separation from the private and public life – distancing myself from dual identities so i can be an authentic person no matter who might be looking on. Let my image be Your image, by Your grace in Your power for Your glory.

Create my soul anew or all my worship’s vain
This wicked heart will ne’er prove true
Til it is form’d again.

Mary Fletcher

Death and All It’s Friends (or my macabre tribute to Poe)

I enjoy movies, not for their ability to take me away from reality, but for their ability to teach me something i am not trying to learn. Certainly, they succeed in being an escape, but the memorable ones use realitistic scenarios to aid in bringing clarity to blurred vision and misdirected sight.

The movie itself was somewhat predictable. I think executives and producers like that now. They throw in some action packed scenes along with a good chunk about where the story will go in their previews and then let the full motion picture give you a different ride than what you had intended on experiencing. No, it wasn’t Avatar. That one looks too predictable.  This movie was about a dad who lost his only close relationship if indeed you could call it close. We learn that his daughter is closest to his heart than any other human being. And even she and him aren’t all that close. She lives her life, while he relives constant memories of her as a little girl. Daddy’s girl. And she dies in his arms from gunshot wounds, presumably meant for him, the first night she comes back to stay with her Boston detective father.

The dad is now hell-bent on finding her killer and exacting vengence. Perhaps you’ve seen this before. But what makes this picture different is the side characters that add layer and complexity to the situation.  Enter a man who becomes involved with the dad’s investigation – keeping tabs on his leads, as if he already knows where it will end. Yet, this man comes across as mysteriously tender hearted in spite of suspicions that he is a ruthless killer himself.

A scene depicts this man having a conversation with his doctor. It doesn’t move the story along. It kind of sits there, a chronological insight into what he is going through, because at this point, you probably start to care about him, even if it is simply for finding out what his role in the story actually is. He has cancer. He doesn’t look to be getting better. The doctor basically let’s him know that it’s terminal, to which he replies: “We’re all terminal.”

Now, it is either here or later on in the story that this theme gets picked up. This is why i’ll end up purchasing this movie when out on Blu-Ray, mainly because i want to know who says this. Someone makes a commentary on dying, that it happens to everyone sooner than they plan. This appears cliche and obvious and is true at every level in this movie. Yet, when thinking about it deeper, this appears more profound because i often don’t view life that way and i don’t think many else do either.

The movie ends in death but i won’t reveal who or the circumstances. You probably could have guessed that much though. But the difference is how the characters manipulate their life before the end, their end. And i guess this is how it allowed some light and focus to peek in. Often, though not in tempered vengeance, i find myself orchestrating or organizing or planning out how i think things should go and more often still something will go wrong, or a there will be a setback i didn’t account for, or things will just disasterously impact me unawares, or typically, schemes backfire. How i adapt and possibly manipulate my responses to these drawbacks are what the rest of my life then usually consists of.

But death gives us an altogether different perspective. Enter death into any frustrating routine of life and suddenly, values, desires, perspective and goals all shift (a bit or a lot depending on how distracted i am at any particular season). Some things don’t get planned. But that which isn’t planned, but is inevitable, ought to be. At least it should be on your radar. And this is the deception of life – that it is a limitless resource to use as we please. Everyone thinks this way or, at the very least, most live like it. I guess King Solomon still had some wisdom left in him, in spite of the macabre and cynical tone with which Ecclesiastes was penned towards the end of his life.

It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of every man; the living should take this to heart.
Ecclesiastes 7:2

Funerals or memorials services don’t sound like the better option when pitted against Thanksgiving meals. I’d much rather laugh than be sorrowful. Unfortunately, the more natural inclination dupes us into thinking we shall be merry forever and trouble ne’er shall come to us. But often it does, to either us or someone close to us. And we get bitter or lose complete faith, or worse, give up on hope. Death is something we often don’t think about and certainly wouldn’t articulate to our casual friends. But that’s probably a mistake we need to remedy. Making death a priority might just open up the life that is most meaningful, the life that is truly grateful for each moment and which seeks to intensely eliminate the possibility of regret at the end.

Perhaps Paul and Jesus were onto something about the willful and daily dying i find myself distancing myself from. Maybe, then, it doesn’t have to sting after all…

Submit to death, death of your ambitions and favourite wishes every day, and death of your whole body in the end: Submit with every fibre of your being, and you will find eternal life. Keep nothing back. Nothing that you have not given away will ever really be yours.
Nothing that has not died will ever be raised from the dead.
Look for yourself, and you will find, in the long run, only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay.
But look to Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in.
C.S. Lewis

“Ye’d better fear”

Right out of college, i believe that i had a right understanding of the fear of God. I remember speaking on it to students shortly after i got a youth pastor job. But life sometimes makes you forget things you’ve already learned. In serving other people in God’s name, one sinks into a routine and somehow finds himself managing the representation of God. Brushing Him this way. Coloring Him that. These caricatures seem believable and you can find yourself thinking this is who you worship.

God likes to destroy those. Certainly they can’t last long, for God is alive. Living. Active. At work. Sooner or even sooner, the facade collapses and who you thought you worshiped turned out to be altogether holier than that. And when i say you, i simply mean me. This has been my experience. Anyone who isn’t afraid of God really should be. He holds it all together. But sometimes He tears things apart. The safe, secure life that i have sketched out for myself with a comic book superhero God doesn’t come through the way i think He ought. However, if we experience hell, it’s because we have separated ourselves from Him. He owes it to Himself to let our world collapse once in a while, given that we are so prone to making Him into something He most assuredly is not. Damage is inflicted. We suffer loss. We cry out for hope. And in our desperation we learn something about the untamable One. He does things as He pleases. For Himself.

And that’s a cause for fear. Everything i think i want, everything i think i own then is at His mercy. Logically, naturally, it’d be hard to trust a God like that. And it is hard. Impossible, perhaps, save for the equally true paradox of the essence of God. That He is also good. The simple truth given by a beaver of all creatures reveals this to us in children’s stories.

So i must learn that fear is only the beginning of wisdom. But it is the beginning. Maybe i need to get back to there the moment i realize i have moved from it. Even with the pain that will accompany acquiring it (Ecc 1:18). All the more reason to fear really, and yet still be able to trust Him for a future with hope (Prov. 24:14).