Letters from Kamp Krusty

Here's a Post that's Not Actually About a Dog Balancing Cups and Saucers

(The rest of this post is about the church, and sex, and stuff.  The pic at left is to make your kids think you're looking at a lengthy post regarding dogs who balance cups and saucers.  Which, come to think of it, may make for a better post, but I didn't know what else to say except, "Cool, here's a dog that balances cups and saucers." but the picture already kinda gets at that.  Yep.  Thank you.)

I got a kick out of the responses to the "30 Day Challenge" thing.  I thought the challenge kind of a bad idea.  May make you "relevant" -- we all want to relevant, by golly -- but isn't it kinda awkward, on a few levels?  I was thinking that.

(BTW:  I was at a Christian-themed singles event last night, with hundreds turning out, at the Improv.  It should have occured to me, on stage, to issue a "1 Year Challenge":  "I sexually challenge my sexy married self to enjoy some very sexual sex five times a day for the next year.  And I challenge you single people to not do anything.  Cool?  Cool.")

Anyway, I got some fun objections to my hesitation about the attempt at "relevance" via comments and email:  "But the church has to talk about sex, and...but we shouldn't act like sex is gross and...but we can't stick our heads in the sand," etc.

But this points out a problem, doesn't it?  Nowhere did I write, or intimate, that the church shouldn't address sexuality.  Nowhere.  But it's presumed, in some quarters, that addressing sexuality means having some guy in a pulpit talk about sex to everyone, en masse, right before everyone leaves to go to the Golden Corral.

Er...why?  And what does it say that people think this is the means of teaching?

We can't fathom other ways to teach?  Are we this limited?  We can't, in our rich imaginations, possibly envision any other way?  Teaching = a guy doing an oratory on Sunday morning?  You really think that's the best place the church can teach about sex? 

Obviously, the church has to teach about sex.  And I'm all about that, mister.  Heck -- and, let's face it, I really meant "hell", there -- for me, once a day for a month seems like a lowly goal, to be honest.  Make it 100 times for the month, and we're talking.  How about them apples, chump?  This here hunka accordion-playing love makes Mark Driscoll look like Richard Simmons.  Yessir.

So never for a moment did I think protesting the all-church, from-the-pulpit Sex Challenge, as bad idea would be taken to mean that the church shouldn't deal with sex.  But perhaps I should have.

I was just thinkin' maybe...I don't know...maybe other people could do it.  In other venues.  Our group of guys takes our teenage guys out for dinner on their birthday, and sits around them, out on the back porch, and advises them very, very frankly on sex, porn, and how to treat women.   It's just guys, challenging each other, talking about their own traps, their own failures and successes, telling the younger ones (and each other) how great and perilous this gift is.

Seems fair, to me.  And more than appropriate, too.  It involves sustained relationships.  It teaches not only about sex, but how it's not strange to talk to older men about it.  It teaches not only about sex, but how other guys let Jesus actually matter in their most vulnerable places.  It teaches not only about sex, but about how these young men are to be the church, and not leave it to the paid guy.

Yes, the men in our country, and our churches, are porn-soaked, and yes, we better talk about it.  Perhaps we could find ways of talking sex that don't involve everyone, en masse, in the sanctuary on Sunday morning, from a guy not everyone can really know, and can't know them...?  Maybe...?

And perhaps -- let's be honest here -- it's MORE dangerous to "deal" with the issue that way, because you may not have really "dealt" with anything...except your need to feel relevant.

Totally Awesome Things I'm Not Going to Buy!

Here are some awesome things I really like!  We could buy them, but we're not going to!  But they're still awesome!

Check out the Infiniti G35!  I love the styling on this car.  Simple lines, perfect proportion.  My neighbor has one of these. 

I'd look super-cool in a G35, throwing my accordion in the trunk and cruising down A1A.  This is one hot, hot car that I'm not going to buy, or lease!

Then there's the Apple iPhone! 

How cool is this? 

You can view HTML, take 2 mega-pixel pics, and have plenty of memory left over to use it as an iPod for music and movies on the go!

And you KNOW it's going to have awesome video games at some point. 

I'm not going to buy one of these (I have a phone already!) but this thing is sleek and incredibly cool!

Here's a house I think would be perfect for us.  We're shopping for one, and this is at the top end of our qualifying range.  But man, this would be sweet!

It has a big yard for the kids, an awesome tropical pool, big fireplace for those chilly South Florida nights, and it's in a rural setting, but still just a few minutes from our beach. 

Perfect!  It would make me feel good as a dad, too!  I'd love to provide a little garden area here for my daughter.  But we'd stress about the finances, I think, so we're not going to buy it.  But it's still an awesome house!

This guitar is just tight.  It's the new Taylor T5 electric.  I really like their electrics, even though it's a fairly new venture for them.  Gorgeous, too!

All these things are totally awesome, and I'm not going to buy them, but they really are awesome!

Soren’s Mirror

Once there was a gathering of geese, in a magnificent, open-air, goose-themed amphitheatre.

The geese settled into their seats, as a regal, aging goose waddled to the stage to speak.

“There’s no point to flying,” he began. “You know that. It may have made your parents feel good, thinking there was a point to it, but the hard reality is, there’s no point to it. It's worthless. Worthless.”

His announcement, which they’d heard before, met with silent nods of approval.

“We can pretend there’s a point to it, but we know we’re really just pretending. Just pretend.  Some geese there's actually a point to flying!  They're not rational,” he said, looking over the spectacles low on his beak.

One spoke up. “But...you fly.”

Silence…then mad honks of disapproval. The temerity!

The regal goose calmed the group, and spoke lower to educate.  “Look, son, I like to pretend there’s a point to flying. That’s my right, to do as I like, and I like pretending there‘s a point.”

“So pretending there’s a point isn’t pointless? Flying has no value, but pretending it has value does have value? I don’t under-- “

“Well, no, pretending is pointless, too.” A long silence.

Another young goose cracked her voice.

“Well, of course I'm strong enough to know there's no real point.  But...I...um...do you tell your goslings that there’s no real point to flying?”

“Er…no,” he said. “But they’ll learn, in time. For now, they act like there’s a point. All goslings think there's a point. But they’ll learn it’s pointless.”

“But...I'm confused.  Even though pretending is pointless, we want them to keep thinking that --”

And the honks drowned her out, as the service ended. “It’s pointless to fly! It’s pointless to fly! It’s pointless to fly!” they cried in unison. “It’s pointless! Pointless! It’s all pointless! Flying is pointless!”

And then they all flew home.

Gettin' Clumsy Wid It

J-Cap and I like to laugh about our common malady:  We can barely live with being misunderstood.  Drives us NUTS.

And yet...every time you put pen to paper, finger to key, or open a microphone, you're going to be misunderstood.  Shoot, silence can be misinterpreted, too.  I still don't get Grebbo Marx or whatever his name was.

Here's a nice illustration of things I have to let go.  I don't blame the reporter at all, but I want to add, after each paragraph, "That's not quite what I meant to say, in context..."

Fact is, she did a great job.  I was kinda...clumsy.

I tried to relate that Jesus had his own explanation of the "Good News", and it was a message that clearly meant certain things to his audience.  What, widely, we now call the Gospel -- that Good News -- doesn't really capture what Jesus was talking about. 

In fact, ask most evangelicals, or Bible-believing fundamentalists, and they won't be able to tell you what Jesus's own "Good News" was.  You'll get a blank stare.  (I tried this recently with a Christian talk radio host, a cool, funny, very bright guy who teaches apologetics on his program.  "What did Jesus say the 'Good News' was in Mark 1?  You know, the message he sent his disciples to share?"  -- no idea.)

So, we've lost something really good, but lately, we're seeing people talking about the Good News -- the Kingdom is here -- and understanding its wonderful implications.   When people know what it means to want the Kingdom to come, here on earth, as it is in Heaven, well, they can't wait to make sure little babies in malaria-infested villages have mosquito nets over them. 

I didn't do a very good job of laying this out.  Part of it's because, while many reporters well understand the gospel as we've explained it, they're yet unfamiliar the good news that Jesus sent his disciples out to share in Mark 1. 

That may say something about us.