by Lon on September 24, 2009
Without a doubt my favorite U2 album of all time remains Achtung Baby. It’s gritty layers went really well with my early teenage angst years.
A completely underrated song in the Album is Acrobat.
Here’s a snippet:
No, nothing makes sense
Nothing seems to fit
I know you’d hit out
If you only knew who to hit
And I’d join the movement
If there was one I could believe in
Yeah I’d break bread and wine
If there was a church I could receive in
‘Cause I need it now
To take the cup
To fill it up
To drink it slow
I can’t let you go
I must be an acrobat
To talk like this
And act like that
And you can dream
So dream out loud
And don’t let the bastards grind you down
As a teenager it had everything to do with hating ‘the system’, and oscillating between not wanting to exist while wanting to belong.
These days the problem’s a bit more internal.
Now I’m part of the church, that has problems receiving people.
Worst yet, I’ve got a preaching gig. And no one talks one way and acts another way more than the preacher. Yes, preacher’s aren’t perfect, and we share our struggles. But that dreaded Book keeps making us call people to Christ-likeness.
Every day I’m confronted by my own hypocrisy. Grace just rubs it in further.
How do I dream out loud when I’m such a mess?
It seems I still haven’t been able to shake my love/hate relationship with speaking and preaching. I’m definitely my worst critic, but I feel bad when it leaks into the critique of others sometimes.
Some people speak just to say something (the blabbers),
And as the saying goes, some people speak because they have something to say (which is nice)
Some people have something to say, but it’s irrelevant to who they’re speaking to (the guy with the megaphone on the street)
Some people speak just to be heard (folks with passion and great stuff to say, but rush through it thinking that getting it off their chest will make a difference)
And then there’s people who speak to transform (and they leave a mark on your soul you can’t seem to get rid of)
I try to be the last. It doesn’t always work out, but I’m committed to the art.
How do you go about speaking to change?
Photo by cromacom
Yesterday was a preaching bomb.
Ever have everything prepared, really know your material, and still fail to deliver?
I wanted it over as soon as I got up… and I just pushed through it.
I love preaching, even though I question it’s role, I’m thrilled whenever I can engage hearts and minds with the Scriptures and the Spirit of God is working… but this was my most uncomfortable preaching moment by far.
I’m still processing through what happened. I know I’ve been going through some spiritual unsteadiness. There has been family-oriented strains and lots of mixed feelings lately. I had not slept much and I woke up just feeling weak.
I was tasked with sharing about my own personal visions in life. This is important stuff, for myself personally and our lives going forward of course. But, I felt like I was talking more about me, than Jesus. Something about that felt powerless.
I need to crawl somewhere and hide for awhile.
It’s Monday morning, do you recall what you heard at church on Sunday?
I’ve been inspired by many great speakers and preachers, but I wonder how often we really engage God through the Scriptures during our church gatherings?
I’m sure I’ve heard Scripture, at least audibly, in every church that I’ve attended, but I wonder how often people truly encounter God through the Scriptures.
From what I can tell of what Scripture says of itself is that it was worth meditating upon day and night. It was often engaged as a community. The Scriptures led to revival and transformation.
Yet I wonder how often ‘preachers’ get in the way of allowing the Scriptures to speak? How often do we deny people the opportunity to wrestle with God’s words personally, for themselves, with one another? How often do we allow people to use their own imagination, to question and doubt, and to emotionally invest themselves into the Story of the Scriptures?
Do you have a particular spot you like to sit?
I rarely went to class in university because without fail, I would fall asleep in every single one of them. I’d wake up to some strange pen trail of gibberish and wonder what on earth it was all for.
I tried sitting at the front in hopes the guilt would force me awake, but it turned out guilt just wasn’t enough.
I found that if I kept munching on snacks all through the lecture while carving “I love Lon” on the back of every seat I had a fighting chance (You’ll find hundreds of these if you look hard at McMaster university – many of them were upgraded to I love Don, or I love London, or I love Condoms over time).
Once I bought a hot dog right before class with all the works, but still managed to fall asleep midway through eating it. I woke up to find messy street meat sliding down my jacket!
I’m totally envious of kids these days who can now surf the web throughout class to stay awake.
What does all this say about our modern lectures and learning environments???
