scattered thoughts on the pleasant peninsula

I write this post in order to organize some things bouncing around in my head, so it is more for my own edification than for public consumption. Of course, if I’m honest, that’s true of this whole blogging endeavor, but I’ll save that discussion for another day.

Yesterday I got back from spending a week in Michigan. I originally intended to go for a long weekend because my Seattle sister was there visiting my Grand Rapids sister, and I hate to miss a party. It ballooned into a week so I could attend the annual meeting of the CRCMA (Christian Reformed Campus Ministers Association) as an observer of sorts. More on that in a bit…

I was able to catch up with a lot of people on West Michigan during my visit. In addition to my immediate family I hung out with an aunt and uncle, a bunch of cousins, my old boss and mentor, another former boss, a friend from the dorms who I last saw in Vienna, my favorite Calvin professor, one of my closest friends and his wife, two former band-mates of mine, my old college chaplain, a very dear family who took care of me when I was at college so far from at home, a good friend who has been on an incredible personal journey over the last three years, my former pastor and his family, another former band-mate who just graduated from PTS, the father of another of my closest friends who is a Calvin Sem prof, a good friend and colleague of my uncle, a former Jubilee Fellow with me, a former Worship Apprentice, the uncle of another good friend of mine, and some others I’m surely forgetting. You get the idea. Eventually it struck me – I have too many connections in West Michigan not to acknowledge it as more than just a place I lived for four years while I was in college. For a while I’ve considered myself a nomad, too transient to have a real home. The place I usually claim, Seattle, is a city where I’ve never actually lived. All this is to say, this week I appreciated being in a place where I feel connected.

Speaking of connected, that was the theme of the campus ministry conference. I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with this random collection of folks who work at universities all over North America. I appreciate their vision of engaging the whole campus with the whole gospel by living for Christ with their whole lives. It's a wholistic ministry that a lot of Christian campus organizations miss. The conference included listening in to a presentation by Nick Wolterstorff on Philosophy and Liturgy (of which I understood approximately 17.9%). We also heard from James K. A. Smith on Modernity and Post-Modernity at universities. I took a lot from his presentation, especially his call to be vulnerable in campus ministry. By that he meant we should not seek to argue or prove our faith to others with a goal of “winning” (I think). Rather, the post-modern world requires that we unapologetically put the Christian story out there next to other stories and let people choose. Part of that story telling includes Christian practice, of course, and living the story. Having some higher or neutral criteria which we can use to critique beliefs is impossible in postmodernity, so any critique we make of others has to be based on internal inconsistencies in their views (as their critique of ours must be). That leads to a vulnerability that is dangerous, but vital.

It was a very interesting presentation that I’m hardly doing justice to here, but (especially after talking to my Dad) I have some questions about. It makes a lot of sense in the humanities and arts to allow for what we might call robust pluralism, unapologetically telling our story and listening to the stories of others. But what about in the sciences? What happens when two environmental scientists look at the same data and interpret it differently? Is this because they have different lenses through which they see the world? If that’s the case, what makes one view more valid than another? Is it internal inconsistencies between the observable data and the commitments the scientist brings to it? Is it who can tell their story better than the other? If there are no neutral criteria to use in evaluating this – if it all depends on the commitments and perspectives we bring to the project – how does science even function? This is why we still have so many people who claim human-caused global warming is a “hoax.” There’s no trust in observable scientific data because that’s just part of that scientist’s “story.” These are questions that will continue to bug me, because I really don’t know the answer. I think I need to read more philosophy books.

Another provocative talk was done by Peter Schuurman, the Education Missions Specialist for CRC Home Missions. He talked about Christians engaging culture, and challenged the transformational model a bit. What he suggested was something that could, for lack of a better term, be described as play. In our language play doesn’t get enough credit. We blow things off as “mere play,” and “just playing” is a term for superficiality. I wish I had taken notes during this talk (I didn’t because I thought Peter was going to be spouting more of the same old transformationalist stuff I got at Calvin for four years), so I’m not the clearest on how Peter put things. However, his critique of Christians transforming culture was based in the innate arrogance of that stance. It can so easily slip into being “our work” and “our mission.” He drew on the Eastern image of perichoresis, the divine dance of the Trinity, always seeking the good of the other and always overflowing with love. In that vein he read a tongue-in-cheek passage that suggested the creation of this world was a type of divine party game in which the three persons of the Trinity decide to have some fun, or play, by bringing us into existence. Play has an innate humbleness to it, in contrast to transformation. I was reminded of the Westminster Shorter Q & A 1 – my chief end is to glorify God and enjoy him forever. Perhaps, as Peter suggested, that means reveling in being creation. Again, this is something I’ll have to intellectually chew on for a while.

Now I’m back, and they’re putting a new roof on my apartment building. I live on the top floor so the thumping of footsteps and the scraping removal of old shingles is quite loud. Nothing’s fallen off the wall yet, probably because I have almost nothing on the walls. But I find the noise oddly enjoyable.

And, in a random football note, I can’t believe I actually feel sorry for John Terry and Chelsea. Really, I didn’t think I had it in me. But nobody should lose because of a foot slip on a wet pitch during PKs. And it’s not like I wanted Man U to win either. Oh well.

surreal

Where to start? I guess I'll just say it as plainly as possible: Last night I went to a performance by crooner Engelbert Humperdinck. It was, without a doubt, one of the strangest concert experiences I've had. On stage you've got a 72 year-old man who, frankly, looks pretty good and has tons of energy for his age. In the audience you've got mostly older women whose antics were incredible. These are adults behaving like teenagers, literally hurting each other to get one of his red handkerchiefs (I guess throwing them to the crowd is his signature move), going crazy when he made obscene jokes about himself. I spent most of the evening watching the audience, not the performer.

So, why did I find myself with not only a free ticket to this concert, but a backstage pass as well? (A pass I probably could have sold for a great deal of money.) Marianne's best friend Emily has a friend she met while doing mission work in Macedonia. Dave's a professional musician, and currently the keyboardist in Enge's band. He got the tickets for the three of us, and then we met him after and went out for a drink. (Sadly, we didn't get to meet Enge himself.)

It was really interesting to talk to Dave about his life, and especially how he tries to live as a Christian in that world. He interacts with people like Enge, stars who have more money than they know how to spend(he's sold over 150 million records), travel and perform anywhere they want, have women literally throwing themselves at them, but are still incredibly unhappy. It's evidenced by Enge's continued drinking problem (which he joked about on stage). I'm inspired by Dave's commitment to the lost people in this world. Of course, he's just starting his professional music career and will take whatever work he can get, but he has visions of doing great things for Christ.

In short, last night was a glimpse into another world. It's good to be reminded that God is just as active there as in other places.

catching up - desert island discs

Some time ago (ok, an absurdly long time ago) I started to list the albums I would want with me on a desert island. I took an unplanned hiatus from blogging and never finished, so I'm going to bang out the whole list in one post. Here goes...

• "All That You Can't Leave Behind" by U2 This is my favorite offering from what is obviously one of the best loved bands of the last thirty years. It's got a wide range of good stuff, from the iconic rock anthem (Beautiful Day) to the reflective and deeply spiritual (Grace). It's telling that at some point I've used almost every track on this album as a listening activity with my ESL students. They never fail to provoke interesting discussion. Of course, as I mentioned about "Live Wide Open," this list is deeply personal and I have personal reasons for choosing this one. The summer I spent at Snow Mountain Ranch was the summer this album burst into my musical consciousness. It was the soundtrack of an incredibly challenging and enriching three months, often thanks to my friends Tom and Drew. I can't think of more perfect songs than Elevation after finishing a grueling hike , or Walk On before starting it.
  

• "When I Look In Your Eyes" by Diana Krall When I tell people about this album I usually point out that it was nominated for the Album of the Year Grammy in 1999, the first time in ages a jazz album had been considered. It ended up losing to Carlos Santana's "Supernatural," but to see Krall in the same category as The Dixie Chicks, TLC, and The Backstreet Boys was incredible (and she walked away with Best Jazz Vocal Performance). Last year's Herbie Hancock shocker was the only other time in recent history that jazz got such love from the Grammy Awards. The album's a fantastic throw back to the days of jazz divas like Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holiday. She mixes classic swing standards with lesser known gems. My favorite track is "Popsicle Toes." The combination of Krall's sensual delivery and the wonderful word play of songwriter Michael Franks makes it one of my favorite love songs. Again, though, what puts this over the top is the memory of seeing Krall perform at DeVos Hall in Grand Rapids from the third row. My sister got tickets for the two of us as a birthday present for me, and we had a blast.
  

• "Bach Cello Suites" by Mstislav Rostropovich This is actually two CDs, but there's no way I could choose one of them over the other. If I had to pick just one album of classical music, this is the one. It's ironic because I usually prefer Romantic composers. You'll find much more Beethoven, Brahms, and Mendelssohn than Bach in my collection. But when my former boss Cindy lent me these CDs I was hooked immediately. Rostropovich recorded them in an empty church, as opposed to a studio, and the result is an incredibly warm and resonant quality. The 6 suites express just about every emotion you can imagine, and every time I listen to them I feel something new and different. I marvel at the versatility of something so simple - an unaccompanied cello. In later years I got a copy of the sheet music and tried to play them on my Euphonium. I hadn't grasped the depth of Rostropovich's mastery before then.

I think I could survive with those as a bare minimum. I thought this would be a much longer list, but those are the cut above. I give honorable mentions to: "Sound of Silence" by Simon and Garfunkel, "OK Computer" by Radiohead, "Ella and Louis" by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong, Mendelssohn's "Symphonies 3 and 4", "Crash" by Dave Matthews Band, "Monk Alone" by Thelonius Monk, "In Between Dreams" by Jack Johnson, "The Score" by The Fugees, "Time Out" by Dave Brubeck, "The Messiah" by Handel, "Stunt" by Barenaked Ladies, "Kind of Blue" by Miles Davis, "The German Requiem" by Brahms, "Graceland" by Paul Simon, and "Saxophone Colossus" by Sonnie Rollins.