Category: Christianity

Be Careful What You Pray For

He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.

–Matthew 5:45

Some of you may not know this, but Alabama Governor Bob Riley proclaimed this week “Days of Prayer for Rain” and asked all citizens to pray both individually and in their houses of worship for our drought to end. The predictable peals of derisive laughter came from the usual suspects, but it was business as usual in the Bible Belt.

According to yesterday’s Huntsville Times, it worked! Well, sorta.

I chuckled when I saw the headline and thought of that movie Bruce Almighty in which people prayed for things that they wanted or thought they needed, but the answers to their prayers often had unforeseen consequences.… Read the rest

An Ecclesiastes Moment

Ecclesiastes is my favorite book of the Bible. But then again, I am a little weird.

Here’s one of my favorites:

Do not be overrighteous,
neither be overwise—
why destroy yourself?

Do not be overwicked,
and do not be a fool—
why die before your time?

It is good to grasp the one
and not let go of the other.
The man who fears God will avoid all extremes.

–Ecclesiastes 7:16-18

So who do you think Qoheleh (“The Preacher”) would commend: a) Pat Robertson b) James Dobson c) Sam Harris or d) Christopher Hitchens?

My guess? None of the above.

… Read the rest

It’s the Increments, Stupid

Yesterday was “hill day.” That’s my 6-6.5 mile early morning run which includes a mile or so of various quad-challenging inclines. Hill day, along with my weekly track session and long weekend run, form the backbone of what I hope will be a run-up to another marathon in December.

Usually, I’m pretty winded by the time I reach the top of the hills and have been in the habit of walking a few meters in recovery. But yesterday, as I topped each peak, there was no need to stop and catch my breath. Like Forrest Gump, I just kept right on running.… Read the rest

Be a Whateva

A few years back, after noting my small knack for turning out a good phrase or two every now and then, I thought to myself: I coulda been a writa!

Then I heard about something called “blogging.” And now, nearly two years lata, I am a writa!

Well, sorta.

Substitute “writa” for “singa” and I coulda been the one asking this question.

Please take the time to read Cary Tennis’ advice to this wannabe diva. It’s some of the best, most practical, most loving guidance that I’ve seen dished out in a long time.

Then, turn off the reality show and start creating some reality of your own.… Read the rest

The Things We Say

With the mercury already rising on another sultry Sunday morning, the runner stopped for a much-needed drink of water. The mammoth megachurch had always been a good wayside for such purposes. Situated approximately halfway through the run, one of the side doors was usually open by 7:00am, and there was a water fountain just a few feet inside; real water, and who knows, on a good day, maybe a little “living water” too.

The runner was not exactly dressed for church, but he rarely encountered anyone inside, and he would only be there for a few moments, so he didn’t see any harm.… Read the rest

C’mon In Boys, The Water Is Fine–Part 2

There are certain immutable laws of the universe which govern the course of the day. The sun rises in the east and sits in the west. Politicians will talk a good game, and when push comes to shove, fail to follow through (or use their fists instead). And whenever I absolutely have to be somewhere in a hurry, I will inevitably end up behind an octogenarian in an Olds. Or in this case, a memaw in a Marquis.

There were no cars behind me or coming toward me, and it would have been a simple matter to have downshifted, crossed the double yellow, and blown granny’s doors off on my way to church.… Read the rest

C’mon In Boys, The Water Is Fine–Part 1

“Well that’s it, boys. I’ve been redeemed. The preacher’s done warshed away all my sins and transgressions. It’s the straight and narrow from here on out, and heaven everlasting’s my reward…Neither God nor man’s got nothin’ on me now. C’mon in boys, the water is fine.”

–Delmar O’Donnell in O Brother Where Art Thou

The phone rang in the middle of the night, shattering my blissful slumber like a Louisville Slugger against a plate-glass window.

Okay, whoa—better nix the miserable metaphor and start over. It was really only 10:30pm. But after the kind of day I had Sunday, I needed the extra rest.… Read the rest

Pitch Perfect

Philip Yancey is one of my favorite contemporary Christian writers. My first exposure to him was during my premed days at Harding when I read Fearfully and Wonderfully Made, a book he coauthored with Dr. Paul Brand. Since then, he’s only become better and more prolific. As someone who in the past has described himself as a “reluctant Christian,” Yancey to me feels like spiritual next-of-kin.

Two weeks after the Virginia Tech massacre, Yancey waded into the morass of grief that was Blacksburg, Virginia and delivered these words.

I sent this link to Number One Son, figuring that he might appreciate some of the things that Yancey had to say as he prepares to take up the tricky business of learning and living out his faith on a state university campus.… Read the rest

Pretty Grads All in a Robe

Yesterday was Senior Sunday at our church. That’s “senior” as in high school, not the over-the-hill, AARP type. There were 26 seniors this year, which, as we say in the South, is a whole big mess of ’em.

They marched down the center aisle of the church, clad in their graduations robes–brown, burgundy, white, red, purple, power blue. This was the start of a new tradition this year. But just barely. It was announced last week that they would wear their robes, and as one might expect, there was a great hue and cry and a week’s worth of high drama.… Read the rest

Grave Dancing

grave-dancing.PNGI wasn’t a fan of his, but I didn’t really think he was a monster either. What ever happened to “you don’t tug on Superman’s cape, spit into the wind, pull the mask off the old Lone Ranger, mess around with Jim, or dance on someone’s grave?”

I’d like to think that when I die, no one will dance on my grave. But there’s probably someone out there who will.

“No more stinky glasses, no more stinky glasses!” they’ll joyfully bleat as they stomp and strut around my grave like a barnyard animal, stirring up a cloud of dust from the freshly dug dirt.… Read the rest

Verbal Sprawl

The more the words,
the less the meaning,
and how does that profit anyone?

–Ecclesiastes 6:11

How ironic that those words were spoken by someone named The Preacher.

We’re preparing to enter a season of senior sermons, baccalaureate services, keynote speeches and prayerful send offs. May all who dare to speak do so with modesty, a sense of the occasion, and a modicum of “fitly spoken” words.

Just say “no” to verbal sprawl.

… Read the rest

Et tu, Roma?

Certainly, readier access to the Latin Mass would thrill the core of liturgical old-schoolers who have longed for its return. But how many mainstream American Catholics would be interested in attending a Latin Mass? Some of the largest and most passionate Catholic congregations I’ve seen have been in churches whose services have veered far from the pre-council standard and toward something more resembling an evangelical megachurch service: video screens, pop-influenced worship bands, a breezy informality in the pews.

–Fr. Andrew Santella

Et tu, Roma?

I know a Catholic family who digs a more somber vibe and loads up a 15-passenger Ford Econoline van every Sunday morning at 5 AM to drive an hour to Cullman in search of the closest Latin Mass to Huntsville.

… Read the rest

PowerPointless in Huntsville

PowerPoint also conditions worshipers to act and react in visceral ways, so that the character of their bodily actions and emotional responses are at times downright Pavlovian. The screen, not the altar or cross, becomes the all-consuming center of attention, an object of intense fixation which triggers predictable reflexes and behaviors. When PowerPoint malfunctions, for instance, people become nervous and lost; they become conditioned to worry that it will malfunction. They find themselves thinking more about the screen and the technician at the soundboard than about the God whom they’ve come to worship and the larger worshiping body of which they are a part.

… Read the rest