"The Dragon will fall victim to a school of small fish in shallow water"
-Chinese Proverb
In Small Medium Businesses, the school of small fish are Pat on Back Moments.
POB (Pat on Back) will take out the dragon one nibble at at time. We all stand around a whiteboard, we all come up with a 1000 great ideas - we all pat ourselves on the back, and we all walk away.
Sure we have legitimate reasons to ignore the whiteboard of life - things, projects, being put on hold, on and on and on.
Here's my short (odd I know) advice for the day. If you can't follow through, don't start. Don't start the brainstorming, dont talk to me about vision, growth, future planning - just stop.
And if you cant follow through with tangible, measurable tests to see if it's worthwhile on and on. How we're going to track it, deadlines.
The ammount of grandious bullshite that goes on in the business world, almost comes on par with the church.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Saturday, September 8, 2007
One More Drink
"Praise God, who has many names - but the Devil has, many more, so with the love that my mother gave me, I'm gonna drop the devil to his knees "
Our conceptions of God could very well be the great antagonist in the tragic comedy that is our lives.
The most effective thing the devil can do, is pretend he is God. Convince people that he is the divine. The devil is known in the drug den, the devil is known in whoretown, capatilist city and any other image that our Fallowellian Disneyland has created. But by this stage, the 'christians' of our time have for the most part crossed off those attractions. We are able, by-and-large to recognize and advert our eyes when the binge bus comes down the lane.
So ever the clever cat, the devil has had to change strategy. And man is he clever as hell. It's perfect, it's military genious, it's devistatingly effective and yet tragically most will never recognize it. By pretending to be God - we don't really have to have much behaviour modification to serve. Me and the Devil walking hand in hand - I think is how the song goes. And again, tragically there are many times in my life when this is devistatingly real.
We start by chasing God, and it becomes about a chase, it becomes about a figuring out, it becomes something oh so subtly different, so quickly that a minor adjustment in course leads to a major adjustment in destination. A deceptively parallel universe, that ultimately becomes a lense by which our world is viewed. And it has become so organic, so innate in our lives, that most Christians (myself included) are completely unaware of it's effectiveness in our lives.
Ok so this is all very nice - but what does it all mean? We all know the devil is clever - whoopee.
We are so easily wooed, that to a large degree, we cannot understand that much of our notions around 'following God', "understanding our relationship with him", "theologically correct reasoning" and much of the other elements in a Christian life - are distractions. We get so caught up in this idea that we can actually 'understand our relationship' and that God is a concept to be grasped - that we spend most of this life chasing this eternal drum (maybe that's what Dante meant). It's like somewhere in God speaking, and our listening, God writing (bible) and our reading - something was lost in translation. And the only thing I can peg it to is the devil. Because let's face it - he's a pretty easy target.
I know if you follow this line of thought through to it's natural conclusion we will end up lying in a ditch, bottle empty shouting awkward obsenities relating to a general 'what's the point' type of attitude. This line of thought can be played out in many realms, but I'll start by exploring how I first really realized it - Dave Matthews.
The blog post is running on now (and they always said to keep it punchy)- but I want to close with an example. Here is a guy, with little involvement in our Disneyland of Churches, who has been able to at times point with such clairvoyance the relationship between man and God, God and God, man and man - that it has stunned me that no 'christian' artist can mimic.
I picked him because his song happened to be on - but there are so many of these guys who just have moments of "getting it" in ways that leave me wishing at times to be them.
Anyways, this is not a blog post to rag on Christian Arts (that deserves it's own), it's to say that part of the effects of the clouded universe; part of the devil that Christians have not recognized, is the part that makes our God out to be lame sauce. And because, I believe, that that devil exists in the contemporary christian scene - those on the "outside" realm - while they struggle with other very real things - do not seem to be influenced to that same degree.
Oh, oh deep water, black and cold like the night. I stand with arms wide open, I've run a twisted line. I'm a stranger in the eyes of the Maker.
I'm not going to make Dave out to be the spiritual guru of our time. This sex obsessed guitarist has a long way to go before I'll start taking too many notes from his book. But he represents I would say, a clarity on a relationship that our tragic drum chasing has prevented us from seeing. Completely caught up in something we don't even know were caught up in, Dave, and many other "non-christians" are blessed to stand outside the ring.
My body is bent and broken, by long and dangerous sleep. I can work the fields of Abraham, and turn my head away. I'm not a stranger, in the hands of the Maker.
Rise, river rise, from your sleep.
I've rambled.
Our conceptions of God could very well be the great antagonist in the tragic comedy that is our lives.
The most effective thing the devil can do, is pretend he is God. Convince people that he is the divine. The devil is known in the drug den, the devil is known in whoretown, capatilist city and any other image that our Fallowellian Disneyland has created. But by this stage, the 'christians' of our time have for the most part crossed off those attractions. We are able, by-and-large to recognize and advert our eyes when the binge bus comes down the lane.
So ever the clever cat, the devil has had to change strategy. And man is he clever as hell. It's perfect, it's military genious, it's devistatingly effective and yet tragically most will never recognize it. By pretending to be God - we don't really have to have much behaviour modification to serve. Me and the Devil walking hand in hand - I think is how the song goes. And again, tragically there are many times in my life when this is devistatingly real.
We start by chasing God, and it becomes about a chase, it becomes about a figuring out, it becomes something oh so subtly different, so quickly that a minor adjustment in course leads to a major adjustment in destination. A deceptively parallel universe, that ultimately becomes a lense by which our world is viewed. And it has become so organic, so innate in our lives, that most Christians (myself included) are completely unaware of it's effectiveness in our lives.
Ok so this is all very nice - but what does it all mean? We all know the devil is clever - whoopee.
We are so easily wooed, that to a large degree, we cannot understand that much of our notions around 'following God', "understanding our relationship with him", "theologically correct reasoning" and much of the other elements in a Christian life - are distractions. We get so caught up in this idea that we can actually 'understand our relationship' and that God is a concept to be grasped - that we spend most of this life chasing this eternal drum (maybe that's what Dante meant). It's like somewhere in God speaking, and our listening, God writing (bible) and our reading - something was lost in translation. And the only thing I can peg it to is the devil. Because let's face it - he's a pretty easy target.
I know if you follow this line of thought through to it's natural conclusion we will end up lying in a ditch, bottle empty shouting awkward obsenities relating to a general 'what's the point' type of attitude. This line of thought can be played out in many realms, but I'll start by exploring how I first really realized it - Dave Matthews.
The blog post is running on now (and they always said to keep it punchy)- but I want to close with an example. Here is a guy, with little involvement in our Disneyland of Churches, who has been able to at times point with such clairvoyance the relationship between man and God, God and God, man and man - that it has stunned me that no 'christian' artist can mimic.
I picked him because his song happened to be on - but there are so many of these guys who just have moments of "getting it" in ways that leave me wishing at times to be them.
Anyways, this is not a blog post to rag on Christian Arts (that deserves it's own), it's to say that part of the effects of the clouded universe; part of the devil that Christians have not recognized, is the part that makes our God out to be lame sauce. And because, I believe, that that devil exists in the contemporary christian scene - those on the "outside" realm - while they struggle with other very real things - do not seem to be influenced to that same degree.
Oh, oh deep water, black and cold like the night. I stand with arms wide open, I've run a twisted line. I'm a stranger in the eyes of the Maker.
I'm not going to make Dave out to be the spiritual guru of our time. This sex obsessed guitarist has a long way to go before I'll start taking too many notes from his book. But he represents I would say, a clarity on a relationship that our tragic drum chasing has prevented us from seeing. Completely caught up in something we don't even know were caught up in, Dave, and many other "non-christians" are blessed to stand outside the ring.
My body is bent and broken, by long and dangerous sleep. I can work the fields of Abraham, and turn my head away. I'm not a stranger, in the hands of the Maker.
Rise, river rise, from your sleep.
I've rambled.
Sunday, September 2, 2007
wavemaker.
"so is this night church thing dead?"
We are such victims of routine, such fearers of stagnancy - that a lapse in implied order can bring about not only a crippling sense of confusion - it can lead us to thinking we can control the waves, that we can keep the momentum up.
He alone stretches out the heavens and treads on the waves of the sea.
Waves. One of the few words that seemed to escape my mouth in a moment of confused prayer was waves. Feeling bold, I decided to pray give 'er a whirl and pray away - not really getting the meaning of what was comming out, and just hoping no one would ask for an explanation. Feeling strongly about this, I followed up into an email to the person with whom the prayer was directed. Half hoping they would provide me with some insight into my own words. Nope. And lying in a semi-uncoscious state this afternoon on my bed, again, waves waves waves.
The destructive beauty of a wave smashing against a rock, completely gone - holds strong metaphorical significance for me. Seeking out the streams, and finding those waves that we should ride out, and those waves which really have yet to even reach their size demands an attention that I lack. It requires a flexibility to move when the wave is going to smash - a reduction in pride to admit that what you thought was a wave, was really a ripple. A patience when the wave is building momentum well below the sea level (and you're wanting to jump wave) and a certain sense of strength, because more often than not - standing up to waves, avoiding them and even riding them takes everything out of you.
And as fighting the waves is both useless and exhausting, creating waves is equally as futile.
I can't say I know what I meant when I was praying for waves - I am reminded however that Jesus ultimately was the one who could fall asleep in a boat that was just getting hammered by them - and, at the right time - just tell them to stop.
Start your school, start your church. Start casting your vision and start deciding where to spend your time. But start noticing where the streams are - where the waves are. Where have they smashed in and poetically destroyed the houses - and where are those that should be ridden?
The sea will rise over Babylon; its roaring waves will cover her.
The seas have lifted up, O LORD, the seas have lifted up their voice; the seas have lifted up their pounding waves.
We are such victims of routine, such fearers of stagnancy - that a lapse in implied order can bring about not only a crippling sense of confusion - it can lead us to thinking we can control the waves, that we can keep the momentum up.
He alone stretches out the heavens and treads on the waves of the sea.
Waves. One of the few words that seemed to escape my mouth in a moment of confused prayer was waves. Feeling bold, I decided to pray give 'er a whirl and pray away - not really getting the meaning of what was comming out, and just hoping no one would ask for an explanation. Feeling strongly about this, I followed up into an email to the person with whom the prayer was directed. Half hoping they would provide me with some insight into my own words. Nope. And lying in a semi-uncoscious state this afternoon on my bed, again, waves waves waves.
The destructive beauty of a wave smashing against a rock, completely gone - holds strong metaphorical significance for me. Seeking out the streams, and finding those waves that we should ride out, and those waves which really have yet to even reach their size demands an attention that I lack. It requires a flexibility to move when the wave is going to smash - a reduction in pride to admit that what you thought was a wave, was really a ripple. A patience when the wave is building momentum well below the sea level (and you're wanting to jump wave) and a certain sense of strength, because more often than not - standing up to waves, avoiding them and even riding them takes everything out of you.
And as fighting the waves is both useless and exhausting, creating waves is equally as futile.
I can't say I know what I meant when I was praying for waves - I am reminded however that Jesus ultimately was the one who could fall asleep in a boat that was just getting hammered by them - and, at the right time - just tell them to stop.
Start your school, start your church. Start casting your vision and start deciding where to spend your time. But start noticing where the streams are - where the waves are. Where have they smashed in and poetically destroyed the houses - and where are those that should be ridden?
The sea will rise over Babylon; its roaring waves will cover her.
The seas have lifted up, O LORD, the seas have lifted up their voice; the seas have lifted up their pounding waves.
Monday, August 27, 2007
In the towel
At the start, before everything, at the very start - there needs to be love. Love doesn't have to come after understanding, love doesn't have to follow knowing, getting, grasping, likeing, wanting - any other verb- Love is the start.
And yet more often than not we bypass love to move on to those things that are easier. We move on to expressions of love rather than love, we hold on to emotional responses rather than love. Rationality, logic, understanding a 'desire' to 'help out' can all oddly enough be enemies of love - and yet for me, and I suspect for most of us, these things come easier than the root.
It's easier but ultimately not sustainable to love after any of these other things - I think at least.
Caring and 'getting along', initially pose as love's co-pilots - so it's rare when we have these two that we stop to question if we really can love one another. We think that these will steer us into love, but more often than not they just 'exist' in a blahze sort of manner - in a ditch like-stagnancy that does little more than allow us to float our dingy on.
We, as relational beings, crave this love. And it is phenomal the ammount of hurt we will cause to get it. It is this love that we need in a community context, this base level of love - not neccessarily understanding, just plain 'ol love; yet it is this love that we at times seem to do everything to avoid. We dodge in word, action, thought, mis-action, lies. In the course of two months, I have had a bit of an outsiders perspective in seeing a group of people dodge this love in truly original ways.
Much of our failings at this really cannot be solely pegged on 'us' per say. Everything wrong with creation does truly pull us from knowing this kind of love. Suspician, hurt, real tragedy, mis-understanding; the cards are not often stacked in our favour. We are almost "too big," too dramatic for having this responsibilty of love.
One of the mysterious elements to this pursuit is that; wrapping our heads around what it means to love, understanding how we show it etc. should not actually be our primary focus. The most challenging thing about this kind of love is that it is both passionate and patient - it cannot be self-driven and it cannot be bastardized by contrived expressions.
It is such a process of radical confidence in the source of such love, and such a rigorous (for me at least) reduction of anything else, that I think this kind of love is probably what part if not all of this life is all about.
And yet more often than not we bypass love to move on to those things that are easier. We move on to expressions of love rather than love, we hold on to emotional responses rather than love. Rationality, logic, understanding a 'desire' to 'help out' can all oddly enough be enemies of love - and yet for me, and I suspect for most of us, these things come easier than the root.
It's easier but ultimately not sustainable to love after any of these other things - I think at least.
Caring and 'getting along', initially pose as love's co-pilots - so it's rare when we have these two that we stop to question if we really can love one another. We think that these will steer us into love, but more often than not they just 'exist' in a blahze sort of manner - in a ditch like-stagnancy that does little more than allow us to float our dingy on.
We, as relational beings, crave this love. And it is phenomal the ammount of hurt we will cause to get it. It is this love that we need in a community context, this base level of love - not neccessarily understanding, just plain 'ol love; yet it is this love that we at times seem to do everything to avoid. We dodge in word, action, thought, mis-action, lies. In the course of two months, I have had a bit of an outsiders perspective in seeing a group of people dodge this love in truly original ways.
Much of our failings at this really cannot be solely pegged on 'us' per say. Everything wrong with creation does truly pull us from knowing this kind of love. Suspician, hurt, real tragedy, mis-understanding; the cards are not often stacked in our favour. We are almost "too big," too dramatic for having this responsibilty of love.
One of the mysterious elements to this pursuit is that; wrapping our heads around what it means to love, understanding how we show it etc. should not actually be our primary focus. The most challenging thing about this kind of love is that it is both passionate and patient - it cannot be self-driven and it cannot be bastardized by contrived expressions.
It is such a process of radical confidence in the source of such love, and such a rigorous (for me at least) reduction of anything else, that I think this kind of love is probably what part if not all of this life is all about.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Speaking of Awkward
I have no crutch except the desire to please everyone
The self preserving, selfishness of the human condition has been revealed recently to me in what I had thought was nothing more than a social oddity – that of the awkwardness.
It should have been so obvious – my intelligence, self –awareness, social currency – all completely mocked, blinded and bound up through this disease. I am as happy as the people I surround myself with – or so seems to be the myth that I often carry.
I will avoid at all cost the awkward situation. I will talk, I will lie, I will sing and I will run all to hope that the awkward turtle swims past me without causing ME harm. I am plauged with having extra sensitivity to such situations, the radar for me tends to be a warm feeling in my throat which works its way to the upper stomach. Yeah - it's bad.
So when the unavoidable awkwardness of this world decends, I'll take any self-centered port in the storm.
A man named Forest once blessed me as being an agitator for God, and cautioned me from being an agitator of the devil. I've typically linked that to my unique ability to send mis appropriated emails at late hours of the night. But now I think there is more to it.
I think part of what he meant by that is that awkwardness persevered, awkwardness recognized and pushed through, agitation that is listened to and dealt with can ultimately have the scent of God on it – as weird as that may sound. Awkwardness avoided, agitation brushed off can just socially smell. I know it true in my life and wont go so far to blanket the notion to all situations but let's face it, Jesus was potentially the most socially awkward person around (I bet it was awkward when his parents asked him how his day was and he told them he destroyed the temple..)
You'd be surprised at just how primal our adversions to those things which may cause us social harm are. Atleast in my life I am stunned to the depths that I can dig all in an effort of social self preservation.
I'll just leave that awkward comment with y'all -
The self preserving, selfishness of the human condition has been revealed recently to me in what I had thought was nothing more than a social oddity – that of the awkwardness.
It should have been so obvious – my intelligence, self –awareness, social currency – all completely mocked, blinded and bound up through this disease. I am as happy as the people I surround myself with – or so seems to be the myth that I often carry.
I will avoid at all cost the awkward situation. I will talk, I will lie, I will sing and I will run all to hope that the awkward turtle swims past me without causing ME harm. I am plauged with having extra sensitivity to such situations, the radar for me tends to be a warm feeling in my throat which works its way to the upper stomach. Yeah - it's bad.
So when the unavoidable awkwardness of this world decends, I'll take any self-centered port in the storm.
A man named Forest once blessed me as being an agitator for God, and cautioned me from being an agitator of the devil. I've typically linked that to my unique ability to send mis appropriated emails at late hours of the night. But now I think there is more to it.
I think part of what he meant by that is that awkwardness persevered, awkwardness recognized and pushed through, agitation that is listened to and dealt with can ultimately have the scent of God on it – as weird as that may sound. Awkwardness avoided, agitation brushed off can just socially smell. I know it true in my life and wont go so far to blanket the notion to all situations but let's face it, Jesus was potentially the most socially awkward person around (I bet it was awkward when his parents asked him how his day was and he told them he destroyed the temple..)
You'd be surprised at just how primal our adversions to those things which may cause us social harm are. Atleast in my life I am stunned to the depths that I can dig all in an effort of social self preservation.
I'll just leave that awkward comment with y'all -
Saturday, August 18, 2007
walking in memphis
"Yes, I know, I've talked with him, we prayed about it – it's alright"
The condition of Christians is caught up in a world where prayer has turned from process to purchase. Marketing masters have seeped our soul, and our Christian consumption has become satisfied with a commissioned based sales process. Prayer is no longer passionate patience, or a persistent petitioning – it is now the equivalent of using "words" to solve our problems, as sticks and stones break our bones.
To use the vernacular of my workplace – if you are dissatisfied with your current service you can call in to your provider and lodge a complaint. Depending on time of day etc. you may receive a few credits on your account (a few months free, new accessory) – but more often than not, you'll get some rookie who will tell you to suck a lemon.
Faced with this, you can do one of three things:
1) Hang up, call back and hope that you get a better 'agent' – odds are high with enough persistence, either your service will improve, or you'll forget that it was ever a problem.
2) Switch providers – it's easy enough, so long as you're not in a commitment.
3) Cancel service all together
Our reference for suffering is similar to mushy fruit at a produce stand, we expect customer satisfaction or we'll go
elsewhere. And in someway, this is how we have begun to pray.
This is not however a blog post to point out suffering extended – I am frightfully and thankfully aware that I cannot preach about those who wear the white robes of expired promises. Nor am I trying to address the need for patience, I'm not trying to solve the question of every 15 year old - "why does God take longer than a week to answer my prayer...?"
I can only write poorly on that character that I have come across a lot this summer: the concept that a whimsical prayer will make our Ying come back to our Yang. I'm not calling for a reduction in faith – if anything this summer has taught the opposite. I think it's a fleeting cry for an enlargement of what our concept of faith can be – sure it's in response to a frustration to the flippancy in which both I and those around me often approach our problems; but, I think it's something more than just that. To begin a partnership of faith in which prayer is no longer about tossing the marble and hearing it roll down the tin roof of reality – how that looks for me is different than you I'm sure. I guess it's (wow) expecting it to be tough, at least that's what I've felt in the past few weeks – that I expect prayer almost to be part of the battle, it's messy, complicated and not to be checked off the list when 'done.'
So there it is, no 12 point step for effective prayers, but just a realization I guess that I'm peering into a hole and I have no idea how far down the looking glass I really am going.
The condition of Christians is caught up in a world where prayer has turned from process to purchase. Marketing masters have seeped our soul, and our Christian consumption has become satisfied with a commissioned based sales process. Prayer is no longer passionate patience, or a persistent petitioning – it is now the equivalent of using "words" to solve our problems, as sticks and stones break our bones.
To use the vernacular of my workplace – if you are dissatisfied with your current service you can call in to your provider and lodge a complaint. Depending on time of day etc. you may receive a few credits on your account (a few months free, new accessory) – but more often than not, you'll get some rookie who will tell you to suck a lemon.
Faced with this, you can do one of three things:
1) Hang up, call back and hope that you get a better 'agent' – odds are high with enough persistence, either your service will improve, or you'll forget that it was ever a problem.
2) Switch providers – it's easy enough, so long as you're not in a commitment.
3) Cancel service all together
Our reference for suffering is similar to mushy fruit at a produce stand, we expect customer satisfaction or we'll go
elsewhere. And in someway, this is how we have begun to pray.
This is not however a blog post to point out suffering extended – I am frightfully and thankfully aware that I cannot preach about those who wear the white robes of expired promises. Nor am I trying to address the need for patience, I'm not trying to solve the question of every 15 year old - "why does God take longer than a week to answer my prayer...?"
I can only write poorly on that character that I have come across a lot this summer: the concept that a whimsical prayer will make our Ying come back to our Yang. I'm not calling for a reduction in faith – if anything this summer has taught the opposite. I think it's a fleeting cry for an enlargement of what our concept of faith can be – sure it's in response to a frustration to the flippancy in which both I and those around me often approach our problems; but, I think it's something more than just that. To begin a partnership of faith in which prayer is no longer about tossing the marble and hearing it roll down the tin roof of reality – how that looks for me is different than you I'm sure. I guess it's (wow) expecting it to be tough, at least that's what I've felt in the past few weeks – that I expect prayer almost to be part of the battle, it's messy, complicated and not to be checked off the list when 'done.'
So there it is, no 12 point step for effective prayers, but just a realization I guess that I'm peering into a hole and I have no idea how far down the looking glass I really am going.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
devils and dust
I've got my finger on the trigger, and tonight faith just aint enough, when I look into your eyes, there's just devils and dust.
Sand and Spirit, Sand and Spirit. It's become increasingly difficult to tell one from the other and it seems like ultimately despite a world that wants clean divisions between the two - we are condemned to live in a fractured, yet not neatly split world. It's that space between knowing, and not just guessing, but really actually knowing that sand has blown off the rock, and spirits remain - and yet feeling the weight of ultimately what we really are - life blown dirt.
Now every woman and every man, they wanna take a righteous stand. Find the love that God wills and the faith that he commands. Got my finger on the trigger and tonight faith just aint enough. When I look inside my heart, it's just Devil's and dust.
Grammatically incorrect ramblings spill over as emotions pour into prayers into songs and into complicated actions. I am stuck in between this place of seeing a mirage, feeling a weight of deisre to reach it, and living in a dull, dirty reality. Every now and then God has given me an opportunity to see this rock without sand - but it makes this dusty city all the harder to bear.
It's not with a weighted spirit that I bear it, seeing him in the whirlwind seems to be part of my schtick. I can't say I know if I'm any good at it though - my hands covered in dirt and my spirit sometimes lacking.
Got God on my side, and I'm just trying to survive, but if what you do to survive kills the things you love, fears a powerful thing - turns your heart black you can trust. It will take a God filled song, fill it with devils and dust.
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