Mockingbird

I finally did. Conformed to the culture. Got a tattoo. It's a mockingbird on my right shoulder, about the size of a fist.

Okay, so not really (j/k mom). But if my love/obsession for Derek Webb's latest CD doesn't die out anytime soon, it may actually happen.

There are a number of Christian artist who have great lyrics, but unfortunately they don't know how to write good music. In a sense, this music becomes an "acquired taste." And these lyrics are also palatable. Challenging at times (such as Ross King), but are difficult to be construed as offensive.

Derek Webb blows this all out of the water. Mockingbird is not a CD I would carelessly recommend. Well yeah it is, because he sings about things that need to be talked about. Other artist, even with their challenging songs, keep everything within the Church. Webb on the other hand is pushing the church to go into the world. In a nutshell, he is an advocate for social justice. He questions why we live so well while "the least of these" are in poverty, going to bed hungry.
He reminds us that our enemies are people just like us. Our apathy and un-loving selves are laid out on the table for all to see.

Not all the songs are protest though, two songs written to his wife give the listener a brief but beautiful glimpse of his love for her.

And on top of that he can write good music! The guitar is simple but driven. The piano is poignant, adding a mood of melancholy to each song it is in. The bells...well the fact that it's there makes me excited.

I have had this CD for less than a week and I've lost count of how many times I have listened to it.
Buy a copy. Be affected. Then let me hitch a ride with you to the inner city.

Ambush!

Josh Bronleewe turned 21 yesterday, leaving only Sam who is not of drinking age (which really doesn't matter, I think in the past month 6 beers have been consumed...maybe).
Josh was extremely paranoid the entire day, expecting people to come after him with air-soft guns. We would give him a patronizing laugh and tell him to relax.
His mom bought him a cookie cake, which Matt picked up from HEB. We let a few candles for Josh and sang happy birthday in our kitchen at a quarter to 7. His paranoia still had not subsided -- he had his air-soft tucked in his pants behind his back. Didn't do him much good.
As soon as we finished singing happy birthday, I pulled out his gun and took a few steps back. Josh looked at me, not fully comprehending why I did that, but before anything could be said, seven fully armed men busted through all three of our doors and began to unload their weapons on the birthday boy. He quickly made for the back, being chased by an al-Queda terrorist and dodging gun fire to the best of his ability
Josh attempted to get in his car and drive away, but we prevented him from backing up and opened his doors, forcing him to turn off the car and step out.
Did we get our 21 shots on him? At least. Best air-soft raid ever.

The Innocent

I am fully recuperated from my week in New Orleans. I have no amazing/sensational stories to share (although others might), but that does not diminish the worth of the trip.
Hundreds of houses were gutted by thousands of college students in the span of a few days. It was good to use the health the Lord has blessed me with to serve those in need

One pervading sentiment was the lack of a feeling of accomplishment as we finished our work each day. Creating something, such as a house takes weeks if not months, but there is a certain level of satisfaction.
After a few hours of destroying the interior of a house, there was no satisfaction. It was tragic to see years of history thrown onto the street. All that remained at each work site was a skeleton of what used to be a home.

We were given mask to protect ourselves from various molds and dust and they worked great (once I learned how to properly put them on). But I have developed something of a cough due the moldy hotel we stayed at. To be fair, the word "bad" was stenciled on the door of our room, but we were eager to find a place to stay, so we ignored the small warning and dumped our stuff in the room. By the end of the first night, 3 of the 8 in our room had sore throats and stuffy noses. The price you may for a free, abandoned hotel room.

I was rather annoyed by the staff of the Grand Palace hotel -- they seemed to be really uptight with fire codes and what not, and didn't appear to know how to run the place, even though it wasn't fully operational. Come to find out, there was no staff at the hotel -- the owner simply told the construction team that was renovating the building to be in charge of things while we were there! And there were a few things that they needed to be up in arms about -- i.e fire extinguisher wars on the second floor (yes, very immature and irresponsible, but I kinda envy those perpertrators), but at the same time, things they perceived as foolish should not be looked down upon.

I have realized that only with Cru (or should I generalize to Christian?) students can you do the most childish things but still fully enjoy yourself. We play in neighborhood playgrounds till midnight. We play "signs," a game in which people sit around in a circle and make various hand gestures. During a fire drill at the hotel, dozens of college students played a game called "Sally Walker" for an hour. The premise of the game? Everyone stands around in a circle, clapping their hands and singing a chant, while one person dances around the inside of the circle until he or she switchs spots with another person. A school yard game that lasted for an hour.

One of the crew at Grand Palace told me we need to grow up real soon before the real world, but I cannot fully agree with that. There is something about these simple games that remind me of Jesus telling us that we need a child-like faith to enter his kingdom. Of course he did not say behave childishly, but there is an innocence in these games and in the joy of my friends that is difficult to find in this world.

I can't speak for every one, but I'd rather be with a group of "sally walker" players than a conference room full of corporate thugs.

Despair in the Church

The great thing about the philosophy major is that I get to take classes called "Religion, Science, and the Quest for Meaning," in which we try to determine if religion and science are reconcilable, if they attempt to answer the same questions, and how this fits into discovering one's own sense of meaning. We are in the midst of reading Lewis and Freud, and because Lewis is a Christian, the faith often comes up.
It is interesting to discover how many people in my classes have a Christian background that they abandoned later in life. This past Tuesday, a couple of them mentioned how they felt burdened with sin while growing up in a Christian home. A cloud loomed over them, a demon of some sort was perpetually tripping them up. They continually found themselves in the midst of sin and they did not escape it until they left Christianity.
This is troubling for various reasons. One is that Lewis, the man we studied, had a joy-filled life. His companions had only good things to say about him once he came to call Christ savior. This burden that my friends described is foreign to me as well. Despite the darkness in the world, knowing my King brings incredible joy to the life, even in the troubling times.
The discussion held in my class shows the urgent need to evangelize to spread the joy and freedom found in Christ, not because we have an agenda or not just because "Bible says so," but because people are perishing underneath a heavy burden, and they are desperate for relief.