We are surrounded by sequels. Anything that has ever been a success has been capitalized on, and if by the rare chance it hasn't yet, just wait. I'm waiting for Fiddler on the Roof 2 to come out any time now. But is this good? Are we that jaded in needing ever "new" and better that we can never appreciate the old? And really, is anything ever really new? Sit down to a brand new sitcom and it's the same jokes, the same characters, the same awkward situations and mistakes, just packaged slightly differently. There are some sequels that are continuations of the story, examples like Lord of the Rings comes to mind. And not all sequels are bad, but I guess I'm just trying to questing the validity of milking every little bit out of an idea. Does that cheapen the idea?
Sure you see this in movies, but books as well. Take the 5 Love Languages. I've read it, and it was reasonably successful and well worth the read. And now you can get the 5 Love Languages of Children, the Single's Edition, a myriad of Devotional Books that follow along, the Five Languages of Apology, etc. etc. Really? It seems more of a ploy to capitalize on a successful brand than something designed to help people. I'm coming more and more to respect Harper Lee, the author of To Kill a Mockingbird. Her refusal to play the fame game and capitalize on (and in my opinion ultimately cheapen) her story is admirable.
A different example. Coffee shops. When we go into a coffee shop, we expect to get, within reason, whatever we want, so long as it pertains to coffee and/or breakfast burritos. The overabundance of choice on menus today it crazy, and expected. It seems like in the interest of providing all things to all people, we never master anything, and everything is cheapened. But this is our culture. Offend us once, and we will never return.
There are so many rabbit trails this could run down, but it all runs down to this. How do we preserve, create, appreciate true works of art, meaning, and life in our world today?
Monday, February 28, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
Christian? or PAGAN?
What makes something "Christian?" Go to your local Family Christian Bookstore and make a list. Verses. That's got to top the list. If you throw a verse onto something, especially if it is somewhat inspirational, put it on the shelf, man. I've wondered how far you could take that though. Could you put a verse on anything and make it work? Probably not. Though it would be cool to see Duet. 32:35 plated onto a .45 Colt or carved into the leg of a table and then sold at Mardels.
How about symbols? Not satanic symbols of course, that would be a little too obvious, but stuff like crosses, light, (Thomas Kinkaid anyone) doves, medieval romanticism, soft animals are all fair game. (pun kinda intended) Now, on one side, it is great to view innocence as something valuable, but to worship it like it was some idyllic virtue, is silly and dishonest. We live in a fallen world, a world that is crying out for truth, for relief from pain, for real answers that don't fail in the face of death, in the face of torture, in the face of brutality and hatred. To ignore that cry is to ignore the heart of God.
So what's to say that something is Christian or not? How do we take Paul's command to not make anybody stumble with our freedoms? With our increasing ease of access to information, how can me make sure nobody stumbles? Or should I say take offense to as this word now seems to mean? We can't. We just can't. The only ways would be to offer a soft, mushy version of the gospel that tries it's best to not offend, or to simply not offer anything at all. Try defending that from scripture.
Where are the Christian artists who capture beauty in color and in music, who don't shy away from the world, but offer something better, something the world doesn't understand? Where are the Christian authors who write gripping stories and let imaginations soar? Where are the businessmen who impact their communities with Christ? They're out there. Find them. Become them. Let us become lovers of music, lovers of beauty, lovers of talent, lovers of truth, lovers of Jesus who don't consume and criticize, but produce and love, who wrestle with the hard questions and live out our convictions.
How about symbols? Not satanic symbols of course, that would be a little too obvious, but stuff like crosses, light, (Thomas Kinkaid anyone) doves, medieval romanticism, soft animals are all fair game. (pun kinda intended) Now, on one side, it is great to view innocence as something valuable, but to worship it like it was some idyllic virtue, is silly and dishonest. We live in a fallen world, a world that is crying out for truth, for relief from pain, for real answers that don't fail in the face of death, in the face of torture, in the face of brutality and hatred. To ignore that cry is to ignore the heart of God.
So what's to say that something is Christian or not? How do we take Paul's command to not make anybody stumble with our freedoms? With our increasing ease of access to information, how can me make sure nobody stumbles? Or should I say take offense to as this word now seems to mean? We can't. We just can't. The only ways would be to offer a soft, mushy version of the gospel that tries it's best to not offend, or to simply not offer anything at all. Try defending that from scripture.
Where are the Christian artists who capture beauty in color and in music, who don't shy away from the world, but offer something better, something the world doesn't understand? Where are the Christian authors who write gripping stories and let imaginations soar? Where are the businessmen who impact their communities with Christ? They're out there. Find them. Become them. Let us become lovers of music, lovers of beauty, lovers of talent, lovers of truth, lovers of Jesus who don't consume and criticize, but produce and love, who wrestle with the hard questions and live out our convictions.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Tuesday Sunrise
Recently I was flying from Tokyo to Seattle. It's an overnight trip, about 8-10 hours depending on your tail wind. The curvature of the earth takes you up past the Aleutians and down the coast. It was probably the most spectacular sunrise I've ever seen. Granted, I've not seen too many, silly sun rising so early, but this one truly was amazing. Flying at 40,000 feet, you get a much different perspective of the sun rising. Let me try to paint a picture for you in your mind.
There is a double layered sea of clouds below you drifting at different speeds and directions, resulting in a kaleidoscope of lace. As the rosy light slowly starts to creep over the horizon, it catches the top layer so that it's like we are flying straight into a mouth. It grows stronger and stronger and when we finally break the barrier, the plane is engulfed in rose colored light, sort of like we were chasing a rainbow and actually caught it, overwhelming us with growing color. The wispy top layer then starts to change and the rose slowly turns to gold. Not lame glittery, cold metallic gold but fantastic deep gold that lives and breaths. It catches the top layer too and pretty soon the plane sweeps into the golden mess. The sun is almost up now, and the contrast between the blue and the gold and the white strikes you with it's vividness. Welcome to Tuesday. Again. Silly Date Line.
There is a double layered sea of clouds below you drifting at different speeds and directions, resulting in a kaleidoscope of lace. As the rosy light slowly starts to creep over the horizon, it catches the top layer so that it's like we are flying straight into a mouth. It grows stronger and stronger and when we finally break the barrier, the plane is engulfed in rose colored light, sort of like we were chasing a rainbow and actually caught it, overwhelming us with growing color. The wispy top layer then starts to change and the rose slowly turns to gold. Not lame glittery, cold metallic gold but fantastic deep gold that lives and breaths. It catches the top layer too and pretty soon the plane sweeps into the golden mess. The sun is almost up now, and the contrast between the blue and the gold and the white strikes you with it's vividness. Welcome to Tuesday. Again. Silly Date Line.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Glowing Planktons
There is beauty in this world that makes you want to shout,
To cry with all your might with everything you got as loud as you can.
And then there's beauty that takes your breath away,
That captures your very soul and leave you speechless.
Whispering and vividly aware of every intricate detail.
Afraid that tat the slightest touch you might destroy it,
But finding that it only makes it better.
So you dance and twirl and laugh and the lights seem to laugh with you.
And you are overcome with awe and fall into silence
As you focus on the majesty of it all,
As it hits you like the waves you are standing in.
What's the purpose of these little light creatures?
Perhaps it's just for this moment,
When you stand captured by their twinkling and
Everything else just slips away.
At last you tear yourself away and get out of the water,
A few dim stragglers clinging to your skin and go sit up on the pier.
You see the little fish darting to and fro as they leave their sparkling trails.
The glow around the pier legs makes them rather ethereal
There is a line anchored into the water that produces a sort of sail glowing into the depths.
And the night takes folds you into it's warm dark arms.
Everything will be ok.
To cry with all your might with everything you got as loud as you can.
And then there's beauty that takes your breath away,
That captures your very soul and leave you speechless.
Whispering and vividly aware of every intricate detail.
Afraid that tat the slightest touch you might destroy it,
But finding that it only makes it better.
So you dance and twirl and laugh and the lights seem to laugh with you.
And you are overcome with awe and fall into silence
As you focus on the majesty of it all,
As it hits you like the waves you are standing in.
What's the purpose of these little light creatures?
Perhaps it's just for this moment,
When you stand captured by their twinkling and
Everything else just slips away.
At last you tear yourself away and get out of the water,
A few dim stragglers clinging to your skin and go sit up on the pier.
You see the little fish darting to and fro as they leave their sparkling trails.
The glow around the pier legs makes them rather ethereal
There is a line anchored into the water that produces a sort of sail glowing into the depths.
And the night takes folds you into it's warm dark arms.
Everything will be ok.
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