I have another thought though:

Life is like a chord progression.

This needs a bit of background and clarification. Last Friday night my band carcrasheyes played a show at Maxwell’s Music House in Waterloo. Cool place, cool people, cool vibe. I had fun. We played alongside a Windosr based band called Michou - they were fantastic. I must admit that occasionally after playing a show, I don’t have a strong desire to stick around. My ADHD kicks in and I get antsy. But since it was somewhat of a shorter night, I stuck around and I’m so glad I did. Their music was beautiful and for the first time in a long time I simply sat there and watched them play from beginning to end. It helped that they had varying instrumentation and really kept things interesting.

There was a moment for me that stood out to me. I couldn’t tell you which song, or which part, but I heard a progression that caught me off guard. The first chord came along and it sounded pleseant. The next few chords took the listeners on a journey that wasn’t exactly pretty, but by the last chord in the progression a light-bulb went through my ears and into my head and I thought, “Aha! It all makes sense now!”. Those ugly chords were crucial, pivotal, necessary. The progression would not have made sense without them. And it turned the piece as a whole into something beautiful to me.

You can likely see where I’m heading with this.

Life is indeed like a chord progression. This goes for a life as a whole or in part. How many times have we reflected on hard moments in life and all of a suddent said something like my “Aha” moment?

Let me stop speaking on behalf of people and speak to you, the reader (I know you’re out there, lurkers. I can see my WordPress stats on blog days! Whether or not you care, that’s another story. Heh).

I don’t know your story, or at least not all of it. Maybe your life has been filled with troubles and hardships, one after the other. I wonder if at some point before you pass away, you’ll have an “Aha” moment. In that moment, all the struggles and pain won’t seem so ruthless and horrific. Instead of greiving over these pains, you’ll finally see it as a beautiful piece of the puzzle. Maybe you’ll simply see the ugly things as necessary, or even good.

Let me prod further. Imagine for a moment that you are a supreme being. You can see all that ever was, all that is, and all that will be. You see all the hurting, pain, and hopelessness. You hear people’s cries, and it breaks your heart. With every inch of your being you want to do something (and you can), but as a good, holy being, knowing full well the grander scheme – the bigger picture – it would be disastrously wrong to interject.

In our moments where we see or experience the most ugly the world has to offer, we ask ourselves, or God, “How could this happen?”. It seems impossible for there to be a big picture – But there most always is. It may take 5 months, 5 years, 50 years, or 500 years, but eventually our eyes will be unveiled to the beautiful but ugly, sour but sweet, wrong but right.

Some of the most touching stories I have ever heard are from people who have battled cancer. Cancer is a terrible thing that I would not wish upon anyone. Yet whether lost or won, beauty can blossom from something so wretched. We may never say, “Cancer is beautiful”, as it most certainly is not. But once we are removed from the it all, we may find the strength to recognize that during the ordeal, we reconciled with family members, re-connected with our creator, or discovered this hidden strength within ourselves. These are all beautiful things, though it still may end ugly – this is a sad reality.

In the end, good will prevail over evil, for evil is merely the absence of the good, just as darkness is merely the absence of light.

So let’s bring on the light, friends.

How are you going to lighten the world around you?
Have you reflected and contemplated on the uglier parts of your chord progression? Have you experienced an “Aha”? If you haven’t,  search your soul and mind, you just might find it.

Anyways, here we go.

It seems to me that more than ever, people are looking for something to believe in. Hold onto this thought.

This has caused many to lean toward extremes. On one end, fundamental Christianity is rampant in many parts of North America. On the other end, atheist fundamentalism is also on the rise. I know that people on either end of the spectrum may read this and I mean not to take unhealthy jabs at either belief system.

I heard a speaker at a conference I was at last October called Catalyst.

Basically, about 12,000 people from around the world gather to hear speakers, usually of the Christian variety, talk about leadership, and how we can become incredible leaders in our work environment. It’s usually quite a revitalizing time. Seth Godin, in particular really struck a chord with me. I think it was maybe because he wasn’t like most of the other people in the room. But it was also because he was so bang on about a topic I hadn’t really explored all that much. It’s this idea of Tribes. He even wrote a book about it, which I haven’t had the chance to read yet.

Tribes are associated with an ancient, archaic form of living, but to be honest that is so far from the truth. Tribes exist all around us. All we need to do is go on Facebook and look at the “Groups” we have joined. What does it say about us? On a superficial level, I am able to guess what kind of person someone is based on who or what they associate with. The same can be true for myself if we examine the “Groups” I’ve chosen to join. Because I’ve joined the group “The Nick and Josh Podcast“, someone who knows about their podcast can infer that I’m a fan of them and enjoy the kinds of people they interview (though I say that with caution – I am always hesitant to identify myself with any one author/speaker/leader/pastor). Because I’ve joined the group “To Write Love On Her Arms”, one can guess that I place high value on the mental/physical/emotional/spiritual well-being of people, and that I support organizations that help in this area (OK, that’s a lot to infer, but it’s all true). Tribes speak to our innermost being – after all, we would generally not join a tribe who’s value system we did not support. When we join tribes, it gives us a sense of belonging and purpose. It gives us a great sense of relief when we find out, for instance, that we’re on the only ones who love a particular band, or style of music, or author, or movie. Over time our tribes may change as we change, but these tribes will always speak to who we are as we evolve.

Keep all this in mind, as I go back to my initial statement. Belief and belonging seem to go hand in hand. This can be a good thing. As we strive towards knowing and understanding what and why we believe, we tend to create a culture around it. A tribe, if you will. For instance – for a number of years a new breed of Christian has arisen from the ashes of Western fundamentalism – it’s been labeled, for better or for worse, the emerging, or emergent church. Some say the emergent church is  good, and necessary for Christianity. Some would say it is dangerous, new age, and heretical. Both sides have formed rival tribes, plotting against each other (all for Christ’s sake, of course).

This is a tribe I have made the conscious choice to shy away from. I may enjoy the writings or teachings of people on either end of the spectrum, and therefore cannot in good conscience commit to one tribe or the other.

I’ve noticed a new tribe as of late. This tribe has had a cult following and is inspired by gnosticism and skepticism. It often revolves around conspiracy theories and tends to suck others into believing that as they have information peeled away in front of their eyes, that they are being let into this inner circle of knowledge. In popular culture, it was showcased in novels like Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code. Brown stated in the beginning of this novel that while it is a work of fiction, all the research is accurate and true. Since 9/11, there have been numerous documentaries which have attempted to suggest a mass cover up regarding the planes crashing in New York, Shanksville and The Pentagon. Even further political theories existed about the Iraq War, America’s current economic state and of great interest to me, religion.

About a year ago, I watched a free documentary entitled Zeitgeist, which is a phrase of Germanic origin which means “The spirit of the age”. It is a beautiful phrase, but has come to mean something much different. For a movie based off a word that seems hope-filled, it seems bent on telling us that everything we know is wrong. In particular, the widely debated first 1/3rd of the film starts things off with a bang. Apparently, Jesus isn’t real. He never was. He is myth. Many have embraced and adopted this tribe. I’ve heard stories of God-fearing folks dropping everything they believe and becoming an atheist after watching this.

Oh, ye of little faith.

Why wouldn’t someone, after watching something of this magnitude, take about a week or so and gather some real hard evidence? In the paraphrased words of Bruxy Cavey, these people are betting on the fact that you won’t do your own research. The film comes off with such an air of confidence that it seems impossible to be wrong. It seems to me, especially if Jesus of Nazareth has had an influence on your life, that you wouldn’t just drop your “Jesus Tribe” shirt for a “There-Is-No-Jesus Tribe” shirt.

All this has raised some questsions that deserve answers.

If you are/were a believer and you found out Jesus isn’t real, would that change your life in the slightest? Would it wreck you?
If you’re a part of the skeptic tribe, and if Jesus IS real, would it change how you live?
If you believe in Jesus right now, are you allowing him to mold you into the person God wants you to be?
Why do we want so desperately to not believe in Jesus sometimes?

With which tribe are we going to set up camp with?

Over the years, many of my friends and acquaintances have stepped away, either in part or in whole, from their faith. On a tangible level this means they’ve, again either in part or in whole, stopped attending church, stopped praying, stopped pursuing accountability, stopped reading scripture, and stopped growing.

I think we all have a desire to do this at some point. Many of us followed the faith of our parents and never fully embrace and follow God on our own terms. Once it was left up to us, we chose to back off, either intentionally or unintentionally. I know this is true for myself, even if in a more roundabout sort of way. I’ve yearned to detach myself from God, Jesus, Christians, Church, the Bible and everything else that falls under those categories. In my case, it’s not necessarily because I stopped believing, or even doubted all that much (though I did, and do have my issues and doubts…see my last blog). I think it was more an issue of resisting Him. In my heart I know what is right. The trouble is following through.

One of my favorite stories from Scripture is about a man named Stephen who was said to be the first martyr of the Christian faith. Before the piles of raging Jewish elders and teachers and high priests started stoning him, he makes a remark that shakes me every time I read it. He uses a somewhat graphic analogy, but, based on their response, it gets the point across. He says this about the way they go through life:

“You stiff-necked people, with uncircumcised hearts and ears! You are just like your fathers: You always resist the Holy Spirit!“

That last line cuts me deep each time. The main reason I want to detach myself from my faith is not that I find it illogical, or hypocritical, or judgmental, or irrelevant (though at times I wonder about all these areas). The main reason I may detach is that I resist God. I resist His call to change and better myself. I resist His call to give up all the things this world has to offer and follow Him. I resist His call to not live life by myself.

Has this ever been true for you? I ask this question to those that have followed and no longer do, or those that are following. For those that have never followed, well, this blog really is not for you today. Sorry.

Our autonomous nature can so often override our desire to understand and grow in our spiritual journey. I know I will have to give up certain areas of my life if I commit to God.  And I hesitate even saying this, because it invokes such a bad stereotype of Christians. But I truly believe that God has set standards and safeguards not as a kill-joy, but as a wise, all-knowing creator who knows what will happen to us if we head down a certain path. Christians have been given terrible stereotypes for being the “morality police”, but it goes so much deeper than that.

I believe there is a beautiful connection between basic human morality and spirituality. I am still exploring this further, but basically I’ve started to see more and more the intricacies and implications of our moral choices and how they affect our relationships not just with the people around us, but with the divine. Using the analgous story of Adam and Eve in the pentateuch, we see two people who make a decision that causes their own relationship to suffer, and a strong disconnection between them and God, that we’ve coined “The Fall”.

We’ve all experienced a crisis of faith. Maybe we should occasionally take a break from asking questions of logic, science, historicity, canonicity and ask this simple question – “Am I resisting the voice inside me?”. Maybe we’ve pushed it away so much we don’t even notice it’s presence anymore. But I guarantee if you sit there and examine yourself long enough, you’ll find it.

Oh, God! Save us all

(listen to the new Underoath)

I’ll start blogging again soon.

For the past week I’ve been listening obsessively to the song “The Fleecing” by Pedro The Lion.

I could tell you why I doubt it, and why I still believe it. And why I need it.

Doubt is a funny thing. It seems to creep into our minds at the oddest times. Last week, in an effort to be prepared for this week at work, I decided on the topic “When I Doubt” for my teaching with the students at church. The summer is often a bit more relaxed around these parts, but I still have to have announcements into our administrative assistant so I hastily decided on the topic. I knew where I was going to go with it. I’d teach that there are many people throughout Scripture that doubted and that I think God understood their doubt and that we shouldn’t feel guilty when we doubt.

And then, 4 days before I was to give this little talk, I freak out. My mind is plagued with complex theological issues that are nearly impossible to tackle in a short period of time, and even after the fact, I  may not be happy with the answer I find. And it’s Sunday morning. And I’m on my way to church. And I’m feeling severely ill-eqipped to attempt teaching middle schoolers. And the lesson I’m to be teaching about in 4 days is the exact lesson I’m failing to put to action in my own life. It humbled me and reminded me how easy it is to just share and teach something. But it’s infinitely harder to, as a man named James once said a long time ago,  “Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like a man who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like.”

I strongly identified with that man in the mirror. For a good chunk of time I forgot what I looked like. But moreso, in my panic, I forgot that doubting really is OK. I forgot that there’s no need to beat myself up over it. I forgot that when I let my doubts cripple me into inaction, I lose.

I think it goes without saying that my teaching last Wednesday night became a lot more real. I had freshly experienced the very thing I was slated to teach about.

I find it so interesting that often our first reaction to doubt is to remove ourselves from the very thing we’re doubting. In a relationship that we’re struggling through, we don’t return calls and don’t make any effort to improve the situation. In an unclear career or vocational move, we often stop putting our best effort in. In a faith that is seemingly less and less real to us every day, we often make choices that send us from belief to unbelief even more. When I doubted that Sunday morning, it took every inch of me to not call in sick and stay home.

May I suggest that we collectively make the choice to deal with our issues head on? I was recently reading a book where someone met for coffee with an old friend and he just started spilling out all the doubts, fears, troubles and struggles he had with his faith. I have a great deal of respect for that man. It takes a lot of courage to do what he did. I encourage us all to do the same.

But don’t stop there.

Wrestle with ideas.
Discuss with people.
Read books, not the internet.
Educate yourself with scholarly research on both sides of the spectrum.
Pray.
Seek.
Find.

Don’t allow doubt to turn into apathy. Don’t allow apathy to turn into cynicism. Lord knows we have enough of that in this world.

So, temporarily, I’ve got over this particular doubt. “What was it?”, you ask? Well, it’s not really the point. But since you’re asking so persistently, I simply had some confusions and uncertainty about scripture. Particularly the first four books of the New Testament – the accounts of Jesus. Were they legitimate? Were they doctored? Were they sensationalized? Is Jesus all who they say he was?

And if he is…how does that change my life?

Anyways, I’m not here to give you a history lesson on Sigur Rós. You can head to lots of other places to do that.

My point is not to plug one particular band, but to examine the idea of connecting with music. Why do we connect with certain styles and not with others? Why is it I can connect with punk rock, but not with pop country? Why is it I can’t stand the thought of listening to electronic dance music, overproduced pop or mainstream hip-hop but am completely fine with electronic-fused rock, indie pop and lesser known hip-hop? Why do I have such an aversion towards reggae-infused pop, but not reggae itself?

I don’t know if I can fully answer those questions, but I think it goes deeper than just our own personal tastes. I think the music we connect with the most is the music that connects with our inmost being. I know for myself (you all could disagree with me, and please – feel free), I consider myself to be a passionate person. As such, many, but not all, of my musical selections revolve around passion – music that is intense and loud, or tragically epic, or even epically tragic. I am talking about the kind of music that makes you feel something. But even then, just because it makes me feel something, doesn’t inherently mean that it will elicit a similar emotion in the rest of us. I can present my case as often as I please about why I think Jimmy Eat World writes excellent pop-rock, but I may never be able to convince some, just simply based on the way they are wired.

I see a trend of people getting very defensive when questioned about their musical tastes. I have to wonder if it’s because it’s more than just what we listen to, but the fact that often what we listen to says much about who we are. So in essence, when we insult someone’s musical tastes, we are in turn insulting them. I am guilty of this. It’s too easy to pass judgment on someone for listening to music that I find vile, even if for “legitimate” reasons in my mind. I too, have to learn to respect and attempt to understand that even seemingly superficial things often carry great meaning for us all.

I’ve now switched from Sigur Rós to the now defunct Scarlet, and their last release, 2006′s This Was Always Meant to Fall Apart. So We go from ambient and gorgeous, to heavy, chaotic and intense. In my mind, it all makes sense. Both styles bring about dynamic, intense expression of emotion. However, something I often think about is the lyrical component. I won’t deny that a certain lyric or theme may really catch my attention, but I find myself more and more absorbed in the music itself, and how the lyrics are expressed.

I would like to dive into this idea of lyrics vs. music little bit more, but I think I might need to save it for another day.

Cheers,
Justin

I offer you no new or innovative information. I will never claim to have an original thought. I also do not expect this blog to skyrocket in popularity.

After all, there are currently 3,428,880 blogs on WordPress, and I’m sure that’s growing by the minute. How could I possibly offer something that isn’t offered somewhere else in the world wide web?

So let me share what I can offer, and also, more importantly what I won’t offer.

I can and will offer my thoughts on music. I think I’ve listened, played, performed, co-created, and heard enough live music to be a legitimate critic. I will always do my best to be an objective critic though. However, I generally focus on the good, not the bad. I’d much rather put energy towards my passions, not things I have an aversion towards. Although occasionally an artist, song, or story may cause me to write a more critical post.

I can and will share about spirituality. It is something vital to my life. I hope it is something that saturates my whole entire being, but I know that I’m not quite there yet. I may share some thoughts on a book I’ve been reading, or a speaker I’ve been listening to, or a conversation I’ve had. I won’t be shy about what I believe, but I will be shy about sharing overly personal things.

I cannot and will not share things I wouldn’t tell my friends or fiancée in person. In general this will not be a blog to act as a diary. I think we can all agree that there is enough of that out there, and while I will include personal commentary, you will not be peering into my soul. I think that should be reserved for intimate relationships, and Lord knows it’s hard enough to share such things even then.

I cannot and will not allow this blog to substitute genuine community and interaction. Fairly self-explanatory I think. It’s so easy and temping to use e-communities as a way of feeling connected, but there will always be something in the pit of your soul that cries out for something so much more real than words on a website could ever give you. When we want to see how a friend is doing, we check their status on Facebook. When we need to talk to a friend about something important, we open up an IM conversation. I know why we do this, but we need to take back the art of verbal communication. It’s so easy for me to re-write something I just typed out to make it sound smarter, wittier or more like I want myself to sound. This is the danger of the blog and excessive online interaction. It turns into pseudo-community and pseudo-intellectualism and pseudo-originality.

So in essence, this blog will be dedicated to my own cultural musings and thoughts. To anyone who reads this, I hope you enjoy.