Thanks to our friends Brent and Tracy, I was able to go with Brent this past Friday to see Rob Bell on his The Gods Aren't Angry Tour. I'd never heard Bell, and while I have one of his books, I confess I've yet to crack the cover, so I was looking forward to hearing what Mr. Bell might have to say. I was not disappointed. Brent has a thorough review, and I'm pretty much a "ditto" with what he says, so be sure to check it out. I will add a few comments and observations to those made by Brent. I noted how, when Bell was talking about how God changed the entire dynamic of the relationship with humans starting with Abraham, Rob noted how God, "used those other gods, worshipped by the rest of human civilization, as props in His narrative to humanity." I'm not sure why that line jumped out at me, but it made enough of an impression to get copied into my Moleskine. Maybe it was just a reminder of how big God truly is, that He exists outside time and space as we understand them, and doesn't display the very humanistic characteristics we see in the gods of the ancient civilizations. What's also fascinating is how so much of what transpired, from a spiritual/faith standpoint, in the ancient world still pervades our so-called modern society. Looking at the religions of the world, all of them are still engaged in some sort of "doing" relationship. You have to do this to please Allah, you have to pray at a certain time, facing a certain way, saying certain words. If you sin, you must confess to the priest, and do penance as he directs. If you offend your neighbor, this is the ritual the rabbi can help you with to make things right. It's all about doing, which is just how the ancients engaged with Apollo, Jupiter, or whoever. Christianity is unique in that God Himself provided the means of salvation, saying "Done!" The only thing required of you is to say yes to Him. That's it. Everything that follows is from your relationship with Him, not because there's anything you have to do, rather there are things that, as a result of the relationship, you want to do. Which was part of what Bell was getting at, too: the God of Abraham is unique in that He reaches out to humanity for a one-on-one relationship with each man, woman, and child. This idea floored the ancients. It would've been as radical a concept as showing a modern automobile to the Founding Fathers. Bell's still on tour until December 2d, so if you're in and around Raleigh, DC, Pittsburgh, NYC, Philly, Beantown, Louisville, Indy, or Rob's home town of Grand Rapids, I highly encourage you to take it in. I don't think you'll be disappointed.

Tony Woodlief:

So where is God found? He finds us, of course, as he always has, from the beginning, and will to the end, because a parent seeks his children without ceasing. But listen close, and I will tell you where I saw him last. It was just yesterday evening, when Isaac placed his fresh-washed hands in my palms, his face strangely peace-filled, and sang to me in his warbly voice. Here is God, I thought. Do you want to find God? Then look up from your books and theologies, if you can bear it, for God is here.

Laura Ingraham, Power To The People:

Our Declaration of Independence reminds us of the "unalienable rights" that are ours to enjoy: "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." These rights are dependent upon one another for survival. We often forget that we have been "endowed" with these rights by our "Creator." How seldom we think of Him and our duty to Him as we exercise these precious rights.

In this age of widespread human embryo destruction, abortion, euthanasia, and cloning, how can we credibly protect the right to life? What is liberty? How do we exercise it without encroaching on the rights of others? And what does it mean to pursue happiness? Is that just a permission slip to indulge our every appetite? Is it a free pass to super-size our meals, wallow in porn, and swell our coffers, regardless of the impact on others?

Too often we have believed that "freedom" means that we have no duties or responsibilities to others. That "anything goes" mentality may appear to be empowering, but it is not. Instead, it creates a sense of anarchy that makes most Americans very unhappy.

The Founding Fathers did not risk their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor so we could become spoiled, pampered, narcissistic, and focused solely on our own pleasure. An ordered society was the Founders' goal--a place where we could live our lives in limitless possibility--but only if we fulfilled our obligations. They wanted us to have the liberty to tap into our creative powers, for our own good and for the good of our countrymen. This is the pathway to true happiness. But that society is only possible if we, the people, have a shared set of values, a common set of beliefs that bind us together. The Founders did not view liberty as a license, but as a sacred responsibility to be used for the good. They understood that liberty cannot be separated from virtue.

My friend Brandon has a great post today that got me to thinking, and in thinking, smiling.

The walk of faith is not a stroll but a journey. And each one of us walks a different path. Some days that path is familiar and we are excited and hopeful. Other days that path is and dark and we tremble with the deep fear of unknowing. There are days for praise and there are days for fear and doubt and sometimes those two things seem to happen all at once.

[...]

So take courage today! If you are excited and hopeful - rejoice! If you are scared and tired and full of fear - take heart! Do not fear the unknown - seek Him! And embrace the tension of walking ahead. For even the unknown can become familiar when we hold onto the One who knows what lies ahead. We truly serve an amazing and awesome God!

Remember when a few hours ago I said I was really thankful about living in America, and I wasn't going to get in to some diatribe regarding socialized medicine? After reading the latest from Walter E. Williams, I'm doubly--no, make that triply--thankful:

Before we buy into single-payer health care systems like Canada's and the United Kingdom's, we might want to do a bit of research. The Vancouver, British Columbia-based Fraser Institute annually publishes "Waiting Your Turn." Its 2006 edition gives waiting times, by treatments, from a person's referral by a general practitioner to treatment by a specialist. The shortest waiting time was for oncology (4.9 weeks). The longest waiting time was for orthopedic surgery (40.3 weeks), followed by plastic surgery (35.4 weeks) and neurosurgery (31.7 weeks).

As reported in the June 28 National Center for Policy Analysis' "Daily Policy Digest," Britain's Department of Health recently acknowledged that one in eight patients waits more than a year for surgery. (Emphasis added. --R) Now, class, who remembers what kind of procedure I'm having in just a couple of hours? That's right, Nathan. Orthopedic surgery. Orthopedic surgery two weeks after sustaining injury. Two. As opposed to forty. Two. Two. Thank you again, God. Thank you.

My friends, as I go about my business on the eve of foot surgery, I thought I would take a moment to offer thanks. Thanks be to God that I was born in America. The United States is, contrary to what a few of our countrymen and very many outsiders would say, quite simply the greatest nation on planet Earth. No, we're not perfect. Far, far from it. But if you could pick any place to be born and grow up in, surely, this is the place, and this is the time. I injured my foot the evening of the 17th. Between that time and now I have visited an emergency clinic and been treated, seen a specialist (twice), and had a CT scan taken of my foot. At the two-week mark, I shall undergo surgery to get the foot's interior cleaned up and have a screw inserted to help hold things together. Hopefully, at the end of four months, the screw will come out, and I'll go back to normal mobility. This would have happened in the same way and at the same pace in very few places elsewhere on the globe. I'm not going to get in to some diatribe regarding socialized medicine, but I wonder if I would be as far along in the process in other Western nations. I certainly wouldn't be here if I were in a Second-World nation, and I might be permanently crippled if I were a resident in the Third World. Thank God I'm here. Thanks be to God for close friends. Like Drew, who was helping me with a ceiling fan installation when I stupidly injured myself, and who took me to the after-hours clinic so my wife wouldn't have to deal with that burden, too. And who called this weekend, after being out of town for a week on business, to check up on me, and offering whatever assistance we might need. Like Nathan and Brent, who do their best to joke around and keep my mind off the injury. For nabbing primo tickets to the local minor league baseball team, so I could have one last hurrah before my mobility is limited for a couple of months. (Thanks so much, Nathan!) Like the folks at our minichurch, who are always so supportive and caring, wondering what it is they can do to help out. I love you guys! Thanks be to God that I have such an awesome wife and family. If you're the praying sort, beyond any prayers concerning my injury and recovery, pray for my wife. The Lord knows what she goes through in putting up with me on a normal basis, much less when I'm going to be in a cast and on crutches for a couple of months. Outside of physical pain and lack of mobility, this will probably be harder on her than it will be on me. So please pray for her. I am so richly and humbly blessed, I can't even really put it in to words, other than to say thanks. Thank you, Drew, Brent, Nathan, Donna, Bill, Geno, Liz, Brad, Becky, Susan, Larry, Marlie, Carolyn, Veta, Sam, and Brenda. Thank you, Mom and Dad, for your encouragement. (And yes, Dad, I did feel the eye roll over the phone when I told you what had happened, and I just hear in my head, "I thought I taught you better than that." Come on, you know you were thinking it. And yes, you did teach me better than that. What can I say? I had a moment of stupidity.) Thank you, Kelly, for loving me. You are so wonderful and awesome, there are times I can't believe you're even in my life, much less my wife. Finally, thank you, God, for delivering me from sin, for calling me to Your Kingdom, for blessing me with my nation of birth, for my many friends, and my family. You are, indeed, an awesome God!

Well, dear readers, after being gone for a week on a family vacation, I'm now leaving in the wee morning hours--in six hours, to be precise--on a mission trip to Juarez, Mexico. It's an annual thing our church does, and this year I decided to go as one of the adult volunteers. It's really a mission trip for the youth of the church, with something around a 65-35 breakdown of youth to adults. Normally the trip is to build simple homes for the poor of the area, but this year we've been asked by the mission sponsor, Amor Ministries, to build some duplex housing for attendees of the local Bible college. So you won't be seeing any updates from the phisch bowl for a bit, as we will have little power available, little running water (which we don't drink any way, we bring our own drinking water), and absolutely no Internet access of any kind. Mobile phone coverage is even spotty, and insanely expensive. It's going to be a blast. See you next week.

I'm not sure if there's anything to the fact that as George Thorogood's "Who Do You Love?" was playing, I came across Steve's great poem, "my convenient social gospel", but regardless, it's a good poem. Thanks, Steve!

You can listen to the song. The gates and doors were barred and all the windows fastened down
I spent the night in sleeplessness and rose at every sound
Half in hopeless sorrow, half in fear the day
Would find the soldiers breaking through to drag us all away And just before the sunrise I heard something at the wall
The gate began to rattle and a voice began to call
I hurried to the window and looked down into the street
Expecting swords and torches and the sound of soldiers feet There was no one there but Mary so I went down to let her in
John stood there beside me as she told us where she'd been
She said, "They've moved Him in the night and none of us knows where.
"The stone's been rolled away and now His body isn't there." We both ran t'ward the garden and then John ran on ahead
We found the stone and the empty tomb just the way that Mary said
But the winding sheet they wrapped Him in was just an empty shell
And how or where they'd taken Him was more than I could tell Something strange had happened there just what I didn't know
John believed a miracle but I just turned to go
Circumstance and speculation didn't lift me very high
'Cause I'd seen them crucify Him, and then I saw Him die Back inside the house again the guilt and anguish came
Everything I'd promised Him just added to my shame
When at least it came to choices I denied I knew His name
And even if He was alive, it wouldn't be the same Suddenly the air was filled with a strange and sweet perfume
Light that came from everywhere drove shadows from the room
Jesus stood before me with His arms held open wide
And I felld own on my knees and I just clung to Him and cried He raised me to my feet and as I looked into His eyes
Love was shining out from them like sunlight from the skies
Guilt and my confusion disappeared in sweet release
And every fear I'd ever had just melted into peace He's alive, He's alive, He's alive and I'm forgiven
Heaven's gates are opened wide (Repeat chorus two more times) He's alive, He's alive, He's alive...He's alive! --Don Francisco

Compassion now has a store where you can purchase Compassion-branded merchandise, as well as music and books from artists who support Compassion. This is a great way for those who may not be able to support a child on a monthly basis to make a contribution to Compassion's ongoing ministries. My personal favorites are the "Changing the World" t-shirt, the "The opposite of poverty" t-shirt (the front reads "The opposite of poverty is not wealth" and the back reads "The opposite of poverty is enough"), the Men's Dill Polo, and the Vintage Cap, which is apparently so popular, it's already on backorder. Now they just need to add a wishlist feature to the Compassion Store, and I'll be set!

Mike Messerli:

There's a lot of discussion about faith these days. I hear many on Television telling me it's a force. They tell me that I can "use" my faith and make things happen. I have watched as many of them worship at the altar of faith and elevate it above the God who is supposed to be the object of their faith.

Let me simplify this a little. The bible makes it clear that faith is simply a dependance on someone else to do for me what I cannot do myself. Real biblical faith is trusting God, and believing he will really do what he says. That's it! It's not hard. It's not a lever I pull to get a jackpot. It's not a formula that I can work to get God to act. [Emphasis added. --R]

Wishing a joyous and loving birthday for you, my friend. As I stated in my comment to your post, I shall celebrate with some Lost And Found and by starting This Beautiful Mess. See you at lunch. :D

I missed this when it went out a couple of weeks ago, prior to the Super Bowl, but better late than never, right? Tony Dungy and Lovie Smith:

On Sunday, one of us will be a world champion. We may have reached the ultimate goal for a football coach, but we know that there is more to life than football. Even when you have achieved the ultimate, someting better lies beyond.

As pro football coaches, we are also men of faith. Our faith drives us every day to seek excellence. It comforts us in the worst of times and produces hope in adversity. It is through our common faith in Jesus Christ that we have individually experienced God's love and forgiveness.

We would love to tell you more. Visit www.BeyondtheUltimate.org, and discover how you can live "BEYOND" the ultimate. The coaches have partnered with Athletes in Action to produce the site, which includes stories from players on both the Colts and Bears teams.

Mike Banta:

No political slogan or hand-held sign has ever changed someone's convictions. Protests, shouting, and political battle will only polarize people on an issue. Regardless of which side wins or loses a political struggle, people will continue to believe what they did before. If you want to change your community, your nation and your world, the most effective action you can take is to introduce people to Jesus, and to demonstrate His love and compassion to them. Through His death and resurrection, all of us can be free from the effects of sin, and enjoy unlimited and joyful relationship with God. This is where changed lives come from.

It is a good thing to participate in politics as God leads. Vote your conscience. Respectfully voice your convictions in the political arena. But don't expect the election of a politician or passage of a law to change people's minds and hearts, much less their lives. Political power and law rule only through fear of consequence, not love. Let's make our focus the same as Jesus'. People are transformed when they experience love in relationship with Him.

Raise your hand if you've ever seen an entire church moving down the road. Put your hands down; I don't mean the whole congregation cruising caravan-style. I'm talking about the entire church building. Well, thanks to the technological miracles of time-lapse photography and YouTube, now you can say you have:

A wave of the phin to Dethroner, and I have to agree with Joel that the video's soundtrack totally makes it.

A little while ago, I finished watching "The Christmas Show" episode of Studio 60. The show closes with an awesome performance by New Orleans musicians who are supported by the Tipitina's Foundation. The group performs one of my favorite Christmas songs, "O Holy Night", and you can still snag a MP3 from Studio 60's music page.

Yesterday, my wife awoke to find our son still in his bed. Granted, he was awake, but he's only three and still hasn't quite figured out the whole Christmas morning, Santa has left presents, thing. So she went to get him up, and moments later he came in to our room. "Hi, Daddy." "Merry Christmas, buddy!" I tell him as Mom helps him up on the bed. "Merry Christmas, Daddy," he replies, giving me as big a bear hug as his little arms can muster. He then proceeds to plop down next to me, still hugging me, and we stay like that for about forty-five seconds before he pops up and says, "Come on, Daddy. Let's go get presents." If nothing else, those sixty seconds made this the best Christmas ever.

On September 25th this year, our church hosted a concert by Derek Webb, of Caedmon's Call fame, along with his wife, Sandra McCracken.

Derek Webb, accompanied by his wife, Sandra McCracken.

I had a good seat (thanks, Samantha!), and took a few shots of the couple as they performed, plus of the good-sized crowd before the concert, and in between sets. Beyond his lyrical abilities, one of the things I admire about Derek is his desire to simply get the message of God's love out there. At one point during his set, he remarked how he was going to freak out all the lawyers and record executives by telling all of us to share his music with whomever we wanted to. Earlier this year, he had even gone so far as to put his latest album, Mockingbird, online as a free download. He says it was a very successful experiment.

So, fellow dads, how's your day going? A pretty quiet one for us here at the Phisch Bowl. It was nice to sleep in a little, then off to church, and Mi Cocina for lunch (Sunset Fajitas!). Both the little phisch and the missus crashed for a nap, and in addition to doing some online reading, I've enjoyed one of my Father's Day gifts: the fifth season DVD set of Seinfeld. Season five is notable because it includes my favorite Seinfeld episode, "The Marine Biologist", which I watched, along with the episode's extras, a few minutes ago. A pair of homemade gifts from the little phisch: a framed handprint he made at school, and a pocket-protector card he colored in Sunday School this morning. As usual, these will take prominent spots on the refrigerator and study whiteboard. I'm usually the one who gets our little guy down for his naps, and today was no exception. As he drifted off, and I looked at his peaceful face, it was one of those Hallmark moments where your heart feels like it's about to burst. Since becoming a father, I have learned more about how much my own dad loves me than I ever thought I knew. Likewise, having had those thoughts parents have, since becoming a dad my relationship with God has deepened, as I understand more how wrenching it was for Him to give up His only Son for the world. My fellow dads, I hope you all have a great day. Dad, I love you. Thanks for always being there, and setting the example you did.

During the Christmas season, one sees Angel Trees nearly everywhere: at work, in the malls, at church; you can hardly go anywhere without running in to an Angel Tree. Between church and work, we've already picked a few angels ourselves, and I'm sure many of you have, too. There is a group of children that are often overlooked this time of year, and those are the children of prison inmates. Prison Fellowship started its Angel Tree ministry in 1982, and has been going strong ever since. It's not these kids' fault their parents are behind bars, and they deserve to get something for Christmas as much as any other child. This year, a generous donor is matching all Angel Tree contributions up to $100,000, which means a normal donation that would give one child a gift will now serve two kids. So please consider making a donation that can turn what is often a lonely time for these kids into one of joy.

Hugh notes Kevin McCullough's campaign to send Christmas cards to the ACLU. Ever since the little phisch was born, the Christmas cards we've sent out have been the kind where a photo of the youngun was part of the card. So we have a few boxes of Christmas cards that will likely never be used. Kevin's campaign sounds fun, and I have the materials. So the ACLU can expect a Christmas card from me this year. Probably two. Maybe three. Alright, four. Let's just say, when I get tired of signing them and filling out the address info on the envelopes, okay?

Despite the financial hardships and the extended family dysfunctional, I have an incredible amount of things to be thankful for again this year. I pray you do, too.

"It is the duty of all Nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey his will, to be grateful for his benefits, and humbly to implore his protection and favors." --George Washington, Thanksgiving Proclamation, 3 October 1789

(Yes, I know "threesey" isn't a real word, but I was attempting a rhyme.) Today was game three of our fall season, and I must confess I have never before been embarrassed to wear the jersey of my team as I was today. Oh, we won, 15-10. The embarrassment was due to the conduct of a few of our teammates. The ump behind the plate was being very inconsistent with his pitch calling. Wildly inconsistent, with regard to what constituted a ball for one team versus the other. You can intuit the inconsistency was not in our team's favor. As I have gotten older, I have mellowed with regard to sports officials. For the most part. These are guys and ladies who have to make a decision in a nanosecond, including times when the call could honestly go either way. Umpires, referrees, they're not perfect. They're human, and like all of us are prone to mistakes. I understand that, and respect their authority. The remaining issue I have with sports officials is a lack of consistency. If pitch A is a ball, and pitch B comes across in exactly the same spot, it should be called a ball, too. Today's umpire was not being consistent. By the fourth inning, the ire of the team had been raised to a fever pitch. We were on our third pitcher, and not necessarily because the first two were throwing junk. Mind you, there were balls being thrown, but as I murmured to one of my teammates on the bench (I switched off every other inning with Dave at 3d), the law of averages dictates that some of these pitches had to be strikes. In the top of the fifth, some words were shared from the dugout by one of our teammates, loud enough for the umpire to hear. This was after an exchange while this player was at the plate. The umpire called our coach over, and the team was informed, via this conversation, that if anyone uttered another such comment, they would be ejected. It was a sad moment, I feel, for our team. After the game, our coach informed us that while she was catching in the fourth, she had asked for some consistency in the pitch calling from the umpire. His reply was a simple nod. The only failing I see here was that our coach should have informed the entire team of this at the end of the inning. The unpleasantness might have then be avoided. I'm sure some of you are thinking, so what's the big deal? The big deal is that this is a church league. Yes, we are out there to play, have fun, and yes again, to win. However, we should be doing so in a manner worthy of the God we call Lord. We failed to do so today. It has been said on more than one occasion and by more than one person that Christians are their own worst enemies. More often than not, our words bear no witness for us to the world. Rather, it is our conduct which bears that witness, and we failed in that regard. Our opposition, which was losing, showed what good sportsmanship should look like. Our league's games are not the only ones in progress. At the park we play at, there are two other fields in operation. There are spectators, and kids playing on the jungle gym. Sometimes, you may get only one chance to witness to another human being, and you may not even know it. Again, the witness may be through your conduct and never through your words. Who may have been watching our game today, and saw what happened? Who may have thought about checking our church out, but now won't set foot inside of it? Who may have thought, Gee, if those Christians are just like everyone else, what's the point? Playing softball is fun, yes, and we play to win, but we should keep in mind we are playing to witness, too, and today, we blew it. Personally, I would rather lose with dignity, with our witness to the world intact. The cliché goes, "Christians aren't perfect, just forgiven." It's true; we're still human, though we work to emulate the one Who's name we bear, the one Who called us to follow Him. People will lose their tempers; that happened today. But we should always be mindful of the consequences of losing that temper. For the record, I went three for three at the plate, with two RBIs. My defense could have been better; I had a guy cold at first, and my throw is four feet off my baseman's stretch. The team won. And we lost.

Congratulations to Michael Hyatt, who is going to have to change the graphic on his blog after his promotion yesterday. (What Mr. Hyatt doesn't know, is that when I finally get around to writing my Christian-worldview technothriller, I will relentlessly harass him to publish it. So keep that between us, okay?) Seriously, though, Mr. Hyatt has big shoes to fill, and we wish him the best and will keep him in our prayers. Sure, all businesses exist to make money, but my view is that Christian businesses, and notably in this case, a publishing house, exist for a higher purpose as well.