Weekend Snapshots: Games...and Truth

After an amazing string of perfect weather weekends, this weekend brought hu. mid. i. ty. No dessert on the patio this weekend. Nope. 

Photo by Kati

But the weekend also brought good things. Kati had friends over for a game party. Ron and I had a date night. The five nearby grands had their summer sleepover with their aunt-friend Bekah. Kid games. Ron painted some more shutters. Eve called from Maine to report that she learned to swim. (Yay, Eve!!) Easy, laid back meals...take out pizza, tacos, store bought ice cream. Family games. A lazy summer Sunday night spent watching old Matlock episodes. 

And reading an essay written by my son Ryan. Full of memories...and truth...and challenge.  

What Would You Think if I Sang Out of Tune?

Every disciple when he is fully trained will be like his teacher. (Lk 6:40)

The late musician, Rich Mullins, in response to why his songs sounded so much alike said, "That's why pastors are so boring. . .everybody only really has one sermon in them. . . everybody only has one song." Since hearing that, I've wondered what my one song is, or maybe what it should be.

Three years ago my Poppop died. In the late nineteen forties he was a young man of the world returning home from a war overseas guarding airplanes and German prisoners. He and his young bride began their new life together as two pagans living in a small apartment overtop a church, and they lay in bed on Sundays listening to the songs and the words spoken below. Soon after, on his knees, my Poppop met Jesus the Friend of sinners, and he would talk about Jesus for the rest of his life. Like the rest of us he left behind, he was human, but when he sang of Jesus and spoke of Him, it was like Jesus was a person, like he knew Him. One of my best memories with my Poppop is painting the endless tin roof of a chicken house one spring and him singing, "This is my story, this is my song, praising my Savior, all the day long." For me, this was his legacy. This was his one song.

Now if Jesus is my one song, then I need to discover the answer to this question: Is He a subject or a person? If Jesus is a subject, then getting all the right answers is important. If Jesus is a person, then knowing Him is what matters. It's like the difference between a theoretical tretise and a love song.

Ralph Waldo Emerson asked,  “Where in Christendom is the Christian?" Good question. There always seems to be a lot of religiosity worship, but this isn't worth singing about. I see this sad song every day on my drive to work, lettered on the the church billboards I pass with andecdotes and moral causes, patriotisim, financial advice, and warning about church attendance. I hear it on the religious radio, men shouting with the fervor of a dictator followed by the syrupy plea for money, "You can request this book right now for a generousgift to support the ministry." Now if my one song is about Jesus of Nazareth. . . then His words and His life should be the lyrics, not religion, not even the subject of Jesus, but Jesus the person.

One poet said, "We do not write in order to be understood; we write in order to understand." So I guess I'm wondering what my one song is and just hoping that it's a song about Jesus. Someday I hope that my legacy will be, "For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and Him crucified." (1Cor 2:2)

Is Jesus your song? Is He my song?