Dirty Little Secrets

It's been one week of summer at the janous household and I can already tell it's going to be a long one. The thing I hate the most is that I always swore I would never be a mom that dreaded summers. But, one of the things motherhood has taught me is how to eat the many words I said before I was a mom.

That is one of the reasons I love my new book: I Was A Really Good Mom Before I Had Kids. In my last post I talked about my fast from parenting how-to books which is one of the things I love about this book. Distancing itself from the how-to's, this book does a fantastic job of bringing to light what all of us struggle with as parents. The authors are two moms who became friends when their children were born and they found motherhood to be more overwhelming than they'd expected. Author Amy Nobile says, "I didn't feel I had permission to talk abotu how hard motherhood really was." This started a quest to discover if other moms were going through the same thing. This book was born out of their conversations with hundreds of women.

I found out about this book on a show Oprah did about mothers. The show was full of mothers confessing their "dirty little secrets." These secrets from moms are scattered throughout the book too. The show was hilarious and if you have five minutes, it's worth taking a look at.

The authors spoke on the show about the process of interviewing mothers and how difficult it was to get women to open up with what they really felt about motherhood. "We feel like we don't have permission to admit that it's really hard, so we're all walking around with these smiles on our faces, but really we feel alone," Amy says.

I think this statement speaks volumes to any woman, but it needs to speak especially to those of us in the church. If we are truly seeking our identity in Christ, not in who we are as mothers or how we feel about motherhood, then we should have the freedom to be honest. More than any other community, the church should feel like the place where your motherhood is not under examination, your individuality is appreciated, and you are free from fear of failure.

Do we have that type of community at Riverside? Has that been your experience? Before we start a dialogue on this I encourage you to ask yourself in what ways you've helped or hurt an atmosphere of honesty. I know I've been humbled through the years and still have some more humility to learn. God is breaking me of the need to have it together and appear "in control" of my children. I am convicted that just by living like I need to have it together in front of other moms creates an atmosphere that makes other feel like they have to as well. I commit to you, my community of moms at Riverside, to try to live more honestly in front of you and at home.

In the spirit of honesty here are just five of my "dirty little secrets";

1. On a good week my children get two baths. Many times we are lucky to get one in a week.
2. I didn't start brushing Tyler's teeth until he was three and even now it's sporadic at best.
3. I've bleached my two-year old son's facial hair.
4. I yell at my children way too much and in ways that would completely mortify me if anyone heard me.
5. I don't like motherhood as much as I thought I would.

- Kim Janous

Music of the Mundane

A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of seeing The Decemberists in concert for the third time.  They were playing their new album, The Hazards of Love, straight through, which was appropriate since the whole album is a continuous story, a rock-opera really, that tells the tale of a shape-shifting beast who kidnaps and impregnates a young girl at the behest of an evil queen who is intent on keeping said girl from her adopted son.  In typical Decemberist’s fashion, the young lovers die together at the end as they recite their wedding vows to one another on a sinking ship.  It’s really not as bizarre as it sounds…in fact, I titled this post Music of the Mundane precisely because I find that so much of their music celebrates the mundane aspects of life, apologizing for losing a friend’s bike, awkward romances and subsequent break-ups…and occasionally they throw in a song about a man who finds a crane who he nurses back to health and then marries, you know, the stuff of everyday life. 

What I find fascinating about their music, is that even at their most fantastical and ridiculous (hands down The Mariner’s Revenge) they are really just telling stories.  They’re poets with almost no concern for metaphor.  It’s almost as if their music is there just to recount tales, with rarely and agenda or concern for greater meaning.  But what I love is that I find their music incredibly meaningful in that it celebrates life in such a way as not to belittle any experience, profession or relationship.  It celebrates the most ordinary, and extraordinary, aspects of life, and holds them side-by-side as equally significant, and really not that different.

- Brian Janous

Exploration

An odd idea popped into a conversation with a friend the other evening over drinks. It was one of those ideas that exposes my limited biblical knowledge, but an idea that helps me to engage in Christian thinking in a way that is exciting and interesting. The idea was this...Did Jesus choose the disciples or did the disciples choose Jesus?

 

My friend initial scoffed at the question, and I guess her reaction was based on her belief that God is omniscience so Jesus certainly had the disciples picked out ahead of time. The logic would then proceed that he knew the exact combination of people that he wanted to truly become followers. The perfect combination of strengths and weaknesses to form this cohesive band of brothers that could carry on his word after his death and ressurrection. Jesus in this thinking would be the master of group dynamics, organizational management, and systems thinking.

 

I sometimes wonder if it would be easier to stop my thinking, call the above statement a fact and move on, but something doesn't seem complete in this line of thinking. Is it possible that Jesus allowed for his disciples to grow a bit more organically with folks drifting into the center, testing the water of sacrifice and travel and then declining the opportunity until there was a solid group of great men to travel and grow together? Maybe Jesus knew that he could mold whatever individuals eventually committed to being with him. Did he really need a tax collector or fisherman? Sure, they both provide great metaphor, but if they were substituted with men from other professions, Jesus could have still turned them into great disciples for the cause, right?

 

It would be difficult to imagine that there weren't hundreds of people trying to be a part of the inner circle. Some probably lasted days or weeks in their efforts until it became too hard.  Others probably stopped believing in Jesus as Lord and Savior, while others probably bowed to other pressures. The twelve disciples in my mind seem to have been hardened and nutured through a more complex selection process, one that called for sacrifice and faith. The final 12 disciples seem as though they were culled from a larger mass of interested followers, and not appointed on day one by Jesus as chosen ones.

 

I am certain that there are much wiser biblical scholars out there that can speak to this question, but the beauty of the Riverside community is that we allow individuals to explore faith in a variety of ways. I need this space to explore my thinking and questions about faith without a one sentence answer or judgement placed on my growing interesting in matters of faith. I hope that my entries continue to start conversations, disrupt easy answers, and frustrate conventional wisdom.

- Dr. Robert Dillon

The thing about Oprah is....

There are several things I love about this clip: 

1.  It’s from 30 Rock, my favorite show.

2.  It has Oprah in it.

3.  Saltwater taffy is mentioned...twice

4.  Did I mention it has Oprah?

5.  Bowel movements are also mentioned (you might recall my preference for a good poop joke)

6.  Tina Fey is a genius who manages to expose my own deep desire to idolize people before my creator...namely, Oprah (at least in this clip).

 

I love Oprah.  I think she is a smart lady.  She has what must be the greatest job in the world, and she gets paid a lot to do it.  She gives to charity, she builds schools in Africa, she takes her employees on Mediterranean cruises.  If you don’t like Oprah, you probably just don’t watch her show enough.  It’s on at 4 pm on KSDK, just in case you’re curious.  My favorites are the ones with Dr. Oz.  He has taught me a lot about my bowels.

 

However, from the perspective of a christian, here’s the thing about Oprah: She’s an idol.  Perhaps the original ‘american idol’.  She has millions of followers.  People wait for years to get tickets to her show.  They blindly follow her advise on topics ranging from finances, health, spirituality and entertainment.  People look to Oprah to tell them what to use, say, feel, do, and even think.  I personally will admit to being a member of The Oprah Book Club.  It’s not like I need to be, I read quite a lot on my own.  But Oprah invited me to join, so I thought 'why not'?  Turns out though, most of those books are really depressing.  Good, but depressing.

Idolatry is no joke for God.  He doesn’t like it one bit.  He warns against it all over the place in the Bible.  People pay some crazy penalties for worshiping false idols (sorry Israel, you brought that on yourself).  There is the whole first and second commandments thing.  And then later on, in Romans 1:25, Paul lays it out like this: “They exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator—who is forever praised. Amen.”  Oh snap!

 

I’m glad that God is jealous.  My heart is so prone to idolize things/people that don’t want or deserve my worship.  That’s what is so tricky about examining our ‘culture’, at least for me.  I have to keep my guard up.  I enjoy a good story so much that I often lose myself in it.  I listen to music and feel like the songwriter is ‘singing my life with their words.’  And sometimes, I admire people (artists) to the point where I would gladly trade my life situation for their own.  The real trick for me is to step back and give glory to the Creator, not the creation.  It’s not easy.  I’m still figuring that out.  I'm sure I'll get it soon though, right?

 

That’s what I love the most about this 30 Rock clip.  Tina Fey exposes my own personal struggle with Oprah worship in a clever and hilarious way.  The good news is that I can confidently say that while I do adore Miss Winfrey, I have done my best not to dip her in gold and pray to her image.  Not anymore, at least.

-Anne Simon

A Daughter’s Reflection/My Mother’s Eyes

I sit in the driver’s seat uncomfortably aware of my elderly mother staring at me. I steal a quick glance at her and state more than ask, “What?”

  “Nothing,” she replies, “Just looking at you.”

   “Oh,” I reply, mildly annoyed.

   This has happened on other occasions in the past year and I think, “This is just part of the getting older scene. Less tact, less inhibitions, a certain rudeness or inappropriateness of social behavior that seems to come with the terrain.”

   Later, I speak with my girlfriend about this and how it makes me feel uncomfortable.

   Over the phone, across the miles her reply takes a moment to be formed. Then, “Don’t you ever, or haven’t you ever found yourself staring at your girls, just wanting to drink them in? I mean, it’s as if I am trying to memorize every plane and detail of Em’s facial features. All the subtle nuances, the essence of who this daughter of mine is. Don’t you think that maybe that’s what your mom may be doing?”

   I am stopped short by this. My mom and I have never connected well emotionally. She admits she never was good at showing affection. She said that physical affection was never a part of her family dynamics growing up, but she never doubted that she was loved. I thrived on physical displays of affection and affirmation and only my dad did that. I needed my mother’s love that way. Parts of me were stunted by its absence.

   Maybe now in the twighlight of her life she is trying to somehow connect with me on an emotional level. She certainly has become more desirous of hugs, when I arrive and when I leave. And, she holds on longer and longer each time.

   Maybe she’s afraid of forgetting me, losing me, either because her mind is changing rapidly and she’s aware of it, or because she knows she’s closer every day to leaving this realm. Maybe she’s trying to commit me to memory, this woman who’s complicated and struggling with her and her demise; commit her memory of me to a place deep in her heart that will never slip away. Maybe she fears losing me in her memory as much as I fear it.

   Maybe she just realized all the years she let go by without holding, touching, and loving me the way I thought I needed it and now is pouring her love and affection into me by this one act. By absorbing me through the windows to her soul, her eyes, and holding me there in her mother’s heart for eternity.

   Maybe, God in his wisdom knew that in order to love my own daughters and son well, lavishing physical affection on them as they grew up and once they were adults, I needed to be starved of that in my own life. Then, in the intricate thread of His redemption woven into my life and the remaking of my life’s story, on all levels, He used that hunger for me to know and understand the power of a mother’s heart and affection in her child’s life. Maybe in the midst of it all I am finally being loved and held in the arms of my mom through His amazing grace and during this last chapter and season of our lives together here!

- Marsha Lang

Sometimes it isn't ironic, it just sucks.

I play guitar for Riverside once a month or so.  Last Sunday I played, and completely butchered, a classic hymn.  For those of you who took piano lessons, the song was supposed to be in 3/4 and I started it up in 4/4.  For those of you who didn't take piano lessons there was one beat too many every line.  Basically I accidently caused a classic song that everyone knows to have a bit of a swing.  Much to the credit of the other four musicians onstage we made it through the song, and it even started sounding kind of cool the last couple of verses.

Most of the congregation probably couldn't have told you what exactly was wrong with the song, but I assure you most of the congregation thought that if felt wrong.  The reason I am telling you all of this is that I feel that it is very similar to sin in my life.  There are so many things that I fail in daily.  Things that I know about, and am embarrassed by.  Even though very few people at church yesterday knew I was the one who messed up the song, I knew, and I felt shame (I'm over it now though).  

Also, like yesterday, there are a few people around me who are quite aware of it when I sin.  My family and close friends feel the direct consequences just like the band in being forced to adjust to my error.

Finally, the big picture.  My sin might not directly effect everyone I come in contact with daily, but due to my imperfect nature things are just a bit off, they don't quite feel right, just like that hymn yesterday.

Fortunately we have a perfect savior.  Despite my sin, God uses me and sanctifies me.  Despite my screw up yesterday God's name was praised...be thou my vision, oh Ruler of all.

Planet Reebok

The current series at Riverside is on the beatitudes, and yesterday we explored, "Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the Earth."

One of the illustrations I dropped during my sermon was about basketball. I play on a team with some old friends and some guys from the church. Matt McReynolds would tell you he is not very meek... Anyway, last Monday we got killed. During the thrashing the other team was talking a lot of smack/junk/trash. Their captain in particular likes to talk for most of the game. This became funny when Doug Coleman began harassing him all over the court. Doug, strong as an ox with a huge grin on his face, talking back (but kindly) and telling me later, "I just wanted to mess with him to see what he would do... grown men shouldn't act the way he was acting." Doug can do that because the other man couldn't just squash doug with a finger (like he could to me). I should also mention that this particular team thinks Steve Bell is Kobe.

ANYWAY, what I noticed is that they talk a lot more when winning. When we have beaten them they talk to the referees.

This also reminded me of playing pick up basketball in college. There are 50 guys I can think of - that I played with hundreds of times throughout my time at Mizzou - who do not know my name. But, they know my friend Jody's name. The difference is performance. Jody's nickname was the Matrix because many of the guys weren't sure why he could score as many as he could on them. But, they knew his real name also. Antonio, Junior, Brooks, Shackleford, Chuck, the other Chuck... Guys I played in pick up games with and against, league games with and against... some of them fought with some of my closer friends and we broke up the fights. The point is that respect is earned there. Humanity, to some degree, is fully dependent upon what you can (or cannot) do. I still love basketball, and I even understand this dynamic. But, it is hard and sad also.

In the Beatitudes Jesus is imagining a community, a humanity, and a world where humanity is simply based upon humanity. Where the world is ruled by a just order, where people assert justice and not their own selfish interests (which is a working definition of meekness). And Jesus says that the people who follow Him will begin to evidence these traits today. It is a scary and beautiful reality that the subversive, revolutionary Gospel of God dignifies us with such a role. To move into the world evidencing our inadequacy, our meekness, our willingness to mourn...

I wasn't sure what I was getting myself into renting a movie whose plot is sexual abuse by a Catholic priest but I was blown away by incredible acting and a thought provoking, well written story. I love when a movie effortlessly grabs my attention and won't let go for days afterward. As I've processed elements of the film, I have indeed been left to wrestle with what I suppose was the writers intent: doubt.

Faith is the antithesis of doubt, yet as a person of faith in Christ, doubt is a part of my life.  The evidene of our world's fallen state bombards me every day as I watch the news and hear of conflict, poverty and injustice.  I'm filled with overwhelming sorrow as I hear of a friend's illness, a teenager's suicide, a neighbor's job loss.  I feel despondant when I wrestle with questions a movie like this raises, "how can a God who is loving allow a priest, a man supposedly of God, to abuse an innocent child and steal a precious part of him that he will never get back?"  

I take comofort in knowing that I am not the first person of faith who has struggled with questions and doubt.  God has given us a provocative example to study in the story of Job.  Job was a faithful man of God, yet God allowed unbearable hardship and sorrow to enter his life.  Here's a brief glimpse into his story:

25Did not I [Job] weep for him whose day was hard?
   Was not my soul grieved for the needy?
²⁶But when I hoped for good, evil came,
   and when I waited for light,darkness came.
²⁷My inward parts are in turmoil and never still;

   days of affliction come to meet me. - Job 30:25-27

In his story Job questions the Lord and God does not rebuke him for that.  However, God does not give Job a direct answer to his questions.  Rather the Lord returns with questions of his own to Job:

"Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?
   Tell me, if you have understanding.
⁵Who determined its measurements—surely you know!
   Or who stretched the line upon it?
⁶On what were its bases sunk,
   or who laid its cornerstone,
⁷when the morning stars sang together
   and all the sons of God shouted for joy?" - Job 38:4-7

It is okay for me to question and doubt but it is not okay for me to expect to fully understand the ways of the Lord.  My pride demands full disclosure as a right and a prerequisite to my complete trust, but that was never promised to me.  Christ himself, who knows all things and understands all things still felt the human sting of being forsaken by the Lord as he hung on the cross.  If it was okay for Christ to ask why God had forsaken him, I know it is okay for me to ask the Lord my tough questions full of doubt, as Job did, and as Sister Aloysius did at the end of the movie.  In the example of Christ, I choose faith, in spite of my doubt.  

-Natalie Wilson

Christian Artist vs. Christian in the Arts

            I grew up listening to Christian rock music.  It was the heyday of the genre, with bands like Petra, Whiteheart, Geoff Moore, and Degarmo & Key making a whole generation of youth group teenagers feel that they could be Christians and still be, at least a teeny bit, cool.   It was the age of very hard lines between the sacred and the secular.  Secular rock music was Evil, while "Christian" rock was all right (as long as it wasn't too rocky and the singers didn't have hair past their collars).  Thus, I grew up with a very strict definition of what it meant to be a Christian in the arts.  It meant 1) that everything you created had to have the word "Jesus" in it somewhere, and 2) that there was absolutely no confusion about the fact that you were a Christian artist.  It had to be stamped on everything you did.It wasn't a description of who you were; it was a category, a demographic, a genre.

            As a young adult, I began to wonder about this distinction.  I thought about bands like the Grateful Dead.  Nobody thought of them as "Hindu Rock", even though their music was obviously very influenced by things like eastern mysticism.  Nobody called Slayer "Satanist Heavy Metal" (maybe because their purported Satanism was about as genuine as a thirteen dollar bill, but still).  I realized that, in the "secular" world, people just created stuff, and the stuff they created was more often than not reflective of their beliefs and worldviews.  It was only the Christians who had created this "us and them" exclusivity.  And what was the result?  It allowed the people who probably most needed to hear the Christian message to conveniently tune it out.  And I started thinking: whatever happened to being gentle as doves but wise as serpents?  How is it wise to effectively assure that the world can easily ignore our message?

            I am a Christian and an artist.  But-and I hope this doesn't make too many people mad-I am not a Christian artist.  I'll admit, in all honesty, that I don't actively try to squeeze God into my art.  In fact, on first glance, very little of my art has anything to do with any blatant expression of the gospel.  On the other hand, ALL of my art is influenced by the pervasive reality of God in my life.  All of my art reflects that,albeit in subtle, even sneaky ways.  I am a believer in breaking some of the obvious laws of Christian art ("no smokin', no drinkin', no sex, no rock n' roll") in order to lay a more effective groundwork for the deeper, far more meaningful truths of what it means to have a relationship with the living God.  I love the idea that Jesus was the sort of guy who hung out with the dregs, who abhorred following rules for rules' sake.  I don't think, when he spoke, that he told everybody he was a "Christian lecturer" (and not just because the word "Christian" hadn't been invented yet, smarty-pants).  I think he approached them as a guy who had an awesome true story to tell people.  To me, that's what being a Christian and an artist is all about. It isn't just finding ways to cram the gospel into everything-it's about letting the gospel color every aspect of our existence, hinting and suggesting, showing how the security and joy and hope of knowing God effects every facet of our lives.

            In short, maybe people will seek God most by seeing his overall shape in the body of our "collected works", regardless of what our medium is, even if it's just the canvas of our day-to-day lives.  Maybe forcing them to look at a big neon Jesus sign, instead of the subtle but pervasive imprint that the real Jesus leaves on our lives, will only blind them and turn them away.  Maybe.  But what do I know?  I grew up listening to Christian rock music.

- George Lippert

Expectations

I so struggle with expectations. As a mother, a wife, a friend and a human being, it is impossible not to.

I have very high expectations of myself. I can let expectations dictate my life. I worry if I am doing enough with my boys. I question my motives as to how I mother them and they cause me to pass unfair judgements on my day. I have what I think are reasonable expectations for my day; including, but not limited to: Getting up earlier than the kids. Spending some quality time with God. Planning the perfect projects for my kids. Working on a creative project of my own. Spending quality time with each of my three boys each day. Keeping the house in a perpetual sense of order. Serving three square meals with impeccable detail to nutrition. The list goes on.

Without a doubt, I fail.

What's unfortunate is, I find it next to impossible to watch TV, surf the internet, read a magazine, or chat on the phone, without having new expectations thrust upon me, and old ones reinforced.

There are those that come from society: You must stay at home with your kids. You must be an amazing multi-tasker. You must lose your baby weight quickly. Your kids reflect your works, they must be clean, well-behaved, and hit every milestone at the correct time.

Those that come from family: You must achieve, or surpass, the level of supermom your mom obtained (or you perceived her to have), or, conversely, you strive to avoid her example at all possible costs. You must sit and ponder the expectations family members pass on to you.

And those that come from friends: You must always personify the expectations you think your friends have of you.

And it's not that any of the sources are purposely trying to drive me insane, at least not individually, but they are there, they are ever-present, and I let them scratch and claw their way in on a regular basis.

The problem with holding so firmly to the expectations I have for myself are two-fold. First is guilt. When I do not live up to these self-imposed expectations, I feel guilty. All of the could-haves and should-haves hold me captive with guilt. It is such a powerful tool the enemy can use to keep me down. However, this is not how it was meant to be. Christ came so that I may have life, and have it to the fullest (John 10:10). So, then, how does guilt fit in to that picture? It doesn't. God didn't invent "mom-guilt".

Second is losing site of God and His expectations of me when I keep my eyes fixed on the expectations of everyone else and those I've created for myself. This is not a pretty place for me to dwell. So what does God expect of me as a mother/parent? 1 Corinthians 1:30-31 says, "It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God–that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. Therefore, as it is written: 'Let him who boasts boast in the Lord.'"

So, all the expectation He has for me, it is not my deeds, nor my own expectations, or those of others, but Christ in me. Christ alone makes me acceptable. All I have to do is live in His acceptance of me.  I need to focus my eyes on Him and not on the expectations of others.  To try and be the hands and feet of Christ to my boys.  He wants my actions and words to reflect those of Him alone.

When put that way, it seems simpler. Yeah, there are many days that I am hardly a picture of Christ to our boys, but I have to say, it is more of a relief to live in His acceptance than to put on my SuperMom cape with all it's expectations.

– jill

The Return

Hello everyone.  Sorry for the breif haitus, but we are back.  For starters, if you haven't heard it yet, check out Zack's sermon "Blessed are those who mourn."  I found it powerful, moving, and feel completely unqualified to add any other comments about it in written form.  As our President would say, it is above my pay grade.

Now for something that isn't.

I have found my favorite record in a very long time.  I generally don't like ranking things but music is an exception to that policy for me.  It isn't often that an album comes out that could surpass one of the albums on my list of ten I would take with me on my proverbial desert island with an audiophile quality sound system, electricity, food, fresh water, television/dvd player (make that blu-ray) and a copy of The Big Lebowski.  Without further adou is it Veckatimest by Grizzly Bear.  Enjoy this clip, but more importantly GET THE RECORD - at least if you like the song.

Here are some reviews if you don't want to take my word for it.

We will be back tomorrow (Tuesday) with regular posts.  Happy Music Monday.

Back Up Soon

Last person on the bandwagon

One of my favorite aspects of music is the shear amount of content out there.  So much music, so little time.  The other day I was included in an e-mail chain that involved several people being very excited that Josh Ritter is coming to town this summer.  I suppose I have been under a folk music rock for the past few years because this was the first I had ever heard of the man.  This youtube clip is the first thing I found from him via the google.  I think it is fantastic so I want share it with you.

I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.  If you did he will be at Off Broadway on July 28th. Unfortunately I will be in Jefferson City taking the bar exam - boo.

WJFB???

An interesting thought crossed my mind the other day. What would Jesus' Facebook page look like? One would think that the great communicator that he was/is would be tapping into all of the available options to get his message to the masses. Facebook would seem to be an obvious choice for our God to communicate with his people. How many friends would Jesus have? Would there be people that wouldn't respond to his friend request? What about God's status updates? Do you think that he would be the person that updated ten or twenty times a day or once a week? I would imagine seeing things like... Surprised by the lack of attention to the genocide in Dafur, wishing I could answer some more prayers, or being omniscience makes for a hungry omnivore. How about the Causes ap? Who would be the organization that Jesus would call on the support for? Who would he be a fan of? Hopefully, he would be a Cardinals fan. Would Jesus' Facebook page have a lot of photos? Photos often depict the beauty in the world, and he certainly has a lot of beautiful things to show off. I would imagine that it would be a lot of sunsets and naturescapes. Do you think that God would interface Twitter and Facebook so that they would talk to each other? If he could post 140 words of wisdom each day wouldn't that feel great. Do you think that God could post a video of the big bang or some of the creation of the world? It would probably get a lot of hits. I would imagine that there would be some friends that Jesus would have to hide their posts, maybe too information or a reminder about how frustrating we sinners are. Our social media universe is one that has many people putting their toes in to check out whether it is for them or not, and thinking how doing social media in a respectful Christian way may mean reflecting on some of the questions above because if we are to work to mirror our lives with the values and actions of Christ, then Facebook is another important place for us to check ourselves against our true intentions.

-Dr. Robert Dillon

Books and Parenting

I have an addiction. I am addicted to books. I am not addicted to novels or biographies or anything that can help me relax or escape from my life for a little, I wish that I were. I am addicted to self-help books. If you were to look at my bookshelves, you would probably get a good laugh at the various titles, most of them only half-read if even read at all.

When I became a parent, the addiction was easily fed. There are thousands of books on parenting and I was sure I needed to read them all. A moment came, when Grayson was in his second month of intense colic, that I realized my insane expectation of learning and knowing everything in those books. Grayson came out of the womb screaming and he didn’t stop for 3 1/2 months. In my mind, I could fix it. If I tried the right technique, ate the right foods, prayed the right way surely he would stop. The moment of turning back from my craziness came the day I went to the library to pick up the books I had requested. I tried to walk out of the library with Tyler at my side, the baby carrier in one hand and at least 8 large books in the other. The vision of all those books stacked on the counter was one I’ll never forget. How was I going to carry all those books out much less read them, and why? What was I really trying to accomplish?

Well, it’s been two years since then and God has revealed so much of what I really was trying to accomplish: control, appearance, success, significance, etc. Motherhood has rocked my world. It has revealed much of my sinful nature, it has brought out sides of me I didn’t know existed, and it has brought me to my knees in need of a Savior.

In future blogs I plan to talk more about what this journey has been and continues to be like for me. How God is revealing more of my need for him and how he is meeting me and my children in my weakness. The main theme has been this: God is God; I am not.

I never read all 8 of those books. It was a defining moment in my life when I put the first book down and rested in not knowing how to help my child, not knowing how to be the best mother, not knowing all the answers. I still struggle to gain control every day. Every day I fight the thoughts that tell me I’m failing as a mother. Every day I have to choose to believe that God is God over my children and that he will cover all my humanness and sin…and sometimes I can read a good book now with perspective.


-Kim Janous

Why I still Love Lost

So we’ve just ended the fifth season of the masterfully created, JJ Abrahms conceived, ABC hit drama “Lost” and with one more season left, I continue to find myself drawn to the story and the characters that have made the show so great. If you haven’t watched the show, I don’t have enough words allowed in this posting to go into detail on the shows’ plot, characters or episodes. If you are the least bit curious, I’d simply recommend renting the series from the very first episode and see if you want to stay along for the ride. If you don’t like the show, good for you. I’m sure a nice Hallmark original or Lifetime movie is just waiting for you to pick it up. Not that the show is necessarily for the faint of heart. You need to be ok with human drama, a bit of sci-fi, and ridiculous and sometimes ill-concieved plot twists. But rest assured, it’s worth it. Enough of the setup…

We are all flawed …

For those of you who know and have watched the show. You know that, unlike traditional literature of old, “Lost” breaks the mold a bit. The characters (much like in X-Men comics for instance) are all flawed. They’re all flawed so much that by the end of this season, the lines are so blurred, you are not sure who the protagonist and the antagonists are anymore. I guess I like that because it’s a nice dose of real life. While we all envision ourselves on one side of the line or the other, I think the Gospel more clearly helps us understand that we spend our days being both the hero and the villain minute by minute. What helps us separate the good guys from the bad guys eventually is that (similar to the Gospel), the characters who end up the heros, are those who have found ways to accept their limitations, to acknowledge their mistakes (not necessarily always with words) and to are typically focused on thinking about the welfare of the others in their care often above their own needs or desires.

Our story reveals a deeper insight to our character…

The characters in Lost are each introduced to us in the early seasons by back-stories of their life before the plane crash (oops.. sorry for the spoiler.. yes.. alright.. so it’s about a plane crash). The show allows us to create some ideas, many of them – false conceptions as we learn about what made them the way they are. I remember how much I hated “Sawyers’ character on the show early on, because of his arrogance and selfishness, but once we learn about the “how” he became who he was and the bigger picture, it allowed me to empathize with his agony over the wounds that helped to mold those traits in him. How often do I make quick judgements about people in the store, on the street, in my church, at my work or even in my own family where I’ve failed to take the time to understand their circumstances? Jesus loved to demonstrate how to love the unloveable. He took time to speak with the woman at the well and to know her, and he loved her despite her sin, because he understood what was behind the shame. I don’t know about you, but I want to know that kind of compassion and empathy.

We need Absolute Direction…

The main tactical issue that the “Lost” survivors face is that their physical absolute direction is broken. Literally the magnetic energy from the island’s core makes compasses fail to work. In parallel we see the principal characters each driven by a sense of their own idea of what the right way, or what their purpose is. The reality is, they are all so confused and try as they may to rectify their circumstances, (because they can’t agree on a physical, emotional or even geographical direction) they have remained “Lost” for more than 5 seasons. What does that say about our own hearts? What does that say about our own tolerance of western relativistic dogma that “What’s right for you, might not be right for me?” We need a compass that works. Something that we can all clearly agree is pointing in the right direction. Sorry to cram the metaphor down your throat, but you get my point.

Though I’m a Christian, I’m still a deeply flawed, overly judgmental and often day by day directionless and a forgetful “survivor”. But… fortunately I do have a compass that works. Do I look at it often? Do I trust that even though there’s a gigantic chasm between where I am and where it’s pointing to, that it’s still going to lead me home? Not always. But ironically the more I rely on it, the closer I get to where I need to be.

PS – For those of you who I confused on the whole “Compass” analogy. The “Compass” = Jesus/ the Bible / the Holy Spirit… alright. Sheesh!

Josh Hogan

What Difference Does It Make?

If you were able to come to Riverside yesterday, you would have heard a sermon on Resurrection. We specifically looked at one of the fundamental Christian beliefs, namely the Resurrection of people. I know that some will immediately be turned-off to this post by the topic alone. I can understand why such a belief looks ridiculous outside of a worldview that holds to Christian Theism. For that matter, what we talked about yesterday may have been “hard to stomach” for those within such a worldview!

My point in this post is to say something I didn’t get to say yesterday. It deals with a “So What?” reality that every “preacher” must deal with when they speak. Sometimes this is easier to do than at other times, depending on the topic itself. Nevertheless, I would be remiss if I were to leave the impression that something as wonderful as Resurrection was not practical. Asked positively, “What’s the big deal anyway? What difference does it make that those who follow Jesus will one day rise to a bodily existence?”

While the implications of such a belief are vast and broad, I want to start with just one. I’ll ask the question, “Why do we do what we in life? What motivates us?” It seems to me that, more times than not, what motivates us is what happens at the end. Even at the most basic level for example, those of us who have jobs we may work—if for nothing else—just to have a paycheck. My assumption, here, is that we often do things in the present for the hope of what’s to come. [Just FYI, for the theology student who reads this, don’t hear what I’m not saying. I am not trying to communicate some sort of works-based salvation. That’s a topic for another post at another time.]

We spoke yesterday that orthodox Christianity has affirmed since the beginning that there would be a bodily resurrection (as opposed to a disembodied ghostly one); and, these remade, perfected bodies would live in a physical world (not like fat, angel babies floating on clouds, playing harps). I turn now to why this really matters and I do so by raising a point that somebody else raises. This pastor/scholar asserts an interesting historical reality that took place in England during the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. He said that it was at this point in time that “English evangelicals gave up believing in the urgent imperative to improve society”. Do you know why? “They gave up believing robustly in [a bodily] resurrection and settled for a disembodied heaven.”[1]

This is absolutely fascinating and it makes complete sense (at least to me)! Why would those who follow Jesus “give a rip” about the needs of people (which in some way could be justified to relieve immediate suffering) and the world in which they live if both (the people and the world) were headed to an end that was completely devoid of physicality? But, on the other hand, since the Christian Hope is not less than, but actually more, physical than what we experience now (read C.S. Lewis’ The Last Battle for helpful imagery here), then part of living Christian-ly is to affirm the goodness of physicality in the here and now. But, Jesus himself won’t let us stop at mere affirmation; He always call us into participation. In other words, Christians are called to live in this world in such a way that it mimics the world to come. In some “mysterious” way—I don’t quite have this all worked out yet—when we “improve society” (to steal Wright’s term) with this sort of motivation, is to participate in the business of Heaven itself! That’s staggering to me.

What are your thoughts on this? How would we live differently since these things are true? Thanks for your thoughts.            

–Ryan

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[1] N.T. Wright, Surprised By Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church (New York: Harper One) 27.