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Showing posts from January, 2012

Will There Ever Be A Time?

After reading Voddie Baucham's blog post here , I read his post on Facebook, the one that linked here , to James MacDonald's blog with an interview of three pastors. The interview was done after the Elephant Room 2 and its blow back ( see previous post ). Naturally, I clicked the video to listen to what these pastors had to say. These three pastors happen to be black. A point I shouldn't have to make at all , by the way, but sadly find that I must. In the interest of full disclosure, I am not black- though my coloring is a bit more swarthy than my befreckled sister's. I was born in Oakland, California, and grew up in the East Bay during the 60s and 70s. I am not unfamiliar with history having majored in it in college. I do have black friends and am aware that there are cultural differences. You want culture clash? Try having the Sicilian matriarch on your father's side hate your mother and her Irish heritage. Look, let me speak plainly. Ethnicity brings d

Why I Love Jesus and Reject Islam

Every now and again I get the opportunity to use my blog for something more important. Much more important than my ramblings. And how fortunate for you, today is one of those days. I never thought I would be promoting a hip hop kind of video, but I am. If you're a Muslim, watch the video to get a better understanding of what Christians actually believe. If you're a Christian and you doubt that culture can be used advantageously to spread the gospel and teach sound doctrine, watch the video. Here is great example of using media in a God honoring fashion. You can find more from IV His son here . If you'd like to see more of this type of video, visit here and donate what you can. Yeah, I did. Who would have thunk it at my age... going all hip hop and rap and stuff!

Bumpers of Conviction

Ever have one of those days where everything you read convicts you? I feel like I am a pinball and I am being launched with sparks, bell rings and little bursts of energy into the bumpers of conviction that surround me. Never thought of my spiritual journey like a pinball game but that's sort of a perfect analogy for today. I keep being bounced about, falling into holes only to be shot out from the other side of my tiny universe into the next bit of truth or obstacle. I don't mean to sound disrespectful nor do I want to be guilty of blasphemy, but I can actually picture the Holy Spirit using His flippers to keep me in the field of play. Of course His aim is spot on. I've never thought about the sting that little silver ball feels until now. Conviction is sweet but it costs a bit of your backside sometimes. The ladies bible study I am leading is something I spend a lot of time grousing about. I love the ladies and the time I get to spend with them. They are a sharp grou

Nubs of Life

For Christmas my sister gave me some bulbs to raise indoors; four narcissus and an amaryllis. I enjoy plants and flowers so it was a sure bet for me to consider them as a great gift and I do. Who needs extravagance when you can have a bit of God's creation to behold? Full of patience and discipline-(she said with her tongue embedded in her cheek), I planted the bulbs immediately, neglecting chores and anything else that had a prior claim to my time. As reward for my labors the narcissus are in bloom. As I sit here and type their fragrance is sweet and permeates the house. The scent is lovely but could have become overbearing easily enough. Fortunately the weather hasn't been at all normal and I've been able to have open doors and windows. It feels special to have them, like they have grown quickly in response to my tender care. The amaryllis, on the other hand, I feared was a lost cause. In the same time span the narcissus have grown, bloomed and are now dying back, t

Elephants for Dummies (Like Me)

I have been wondering what all the talk about The Elephant Room is about. I hang out with folks on the net who are wicked smart theologians and apologists. The kind of folks who don't just know the word patristics, like me, but who are intimately familiar with their writings and can quote them as readily as I quote The Princess Bride or Monty Python. Hanging out with these folks doesn't make me smart nor does it mean I am up on all the things I should be. In fact, in writing this I am about to expose just out out of the loop I have been. Oh well. Here I go anyway. I saw my friend, Lane , post this url on Face Book and was sort of amazed at what I was reading. A Christian being forced to leave a Christian function?What is The Elephant Room? Did I really just read that? Realizing I was completely ignorant about the pachyderm on the premises and not wanting to expose my ignorance, I was tempted to simply read the opinions of my friends on the matter. If I have learned any

Occupy Hypocrisy

I have absolutely no use for the Occupy Wall Street movement and those who are involved with it. None. Zero. They claim to be "The 99%" and I must ask of what? Did villages all over the globe lose their idiots? Really, just what group to do they purport to be a majority representation of? Perhaps that's the real question, because I do not want them to think for even a fraction of a second that they represent me. The kindest thing I can think of to say of these people is that they are booger picking morons. After reading this article in the New York Post I think I am being generous. Squatting in the home of a single father who is trying to work within the confines of law in order to keep his home? Really? You may want to chastise me and tell me that they are simply misguided. Have at it. That may have been true at the beginning of this "movement" but any lemming with a brain and an ounce of integrity has packed up and, if they are smart, will hang thei

Walking Dead or Walking Wounded?

Over the holidays I stumbled upon a series that Netflix thought I would like: The Walking Dead (zombie alert, don't click if you're a faint of heart). I like science fiction, especially when it flirts so shamelessly with reality that it makes you forget the event you're watching isn't occurring just outside your front door. It's the potential of its veracity that evokes the fight or flight mechanism we all share. I scared the scoobies out of myself watching the first season and as providence would have it, there was a season two marathon on AMC the very next day. Alone on the top of a hill, wind making the nekkid crepe myrtle branches rub on the vinyl siding, I sat transfixed in a sort of HDTV induced sensory overload. You should picture me in my recliner with my Winchester across my lap, eyes wide open and mind on high alert. I didn't really have my rifle across my lap but I kept thinking about getting it. I didn't only because I didn't