| Monday, January 31, 2005 |
| Cracking The Top 25 |
Time magazine released their list of the 25 Most Influential Evangelical Christians in America. Just a few thoughts that hit me about this list:
1) The number of people on the list that were political. Almost half the people on the list had something to do with national politics. I guess that's what makes them influential, but are Christians ignoring the influential power of the gospel for power found within political realms?
2) The number of people on the list that I didn't know. I like to think that I'm pretty familiar with what's happening in Christendom. Apparently I don't. That Dave Barton guy [third picture on their list] came to our church a few months ago. I ran the sound system as he spoke. Wasn't wearing a cowboy hat when I saw him, though.
3) The fact that I didn't make the list. I don't know if I'm not influential enough or not an evangelical Christian. Maybe I would've helped my cause if I had a subscription to Time Magazine [used to have a subscription to Sports Illustrated]. I'll check with the editor of Time and see if it was an oversight.
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yet another musing of steve-o @ 1:54:00 PM
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| Friday, January 28, 2005 |
| Front Porch To The Ends Of The Earth |
This morning a group of ten people left Christ's Church on a mission trip to Caracas, Venezuela for a week to assist our missionaries there.
A year ago today I was in Venezuela. It's hard to believe it was that long ago. It was such a rewarding experience: we were able to fellowship with Christian believers from another country, we helped complete some important projects at a summer camp for inner city youths, and I finally got my money's worth out of Ms. Riedmatter's high school Spanish. I look forward to returning there someday.
As I reflect on that trip, my fondest memory is a not-so-spiritual one. Antony was this college-age guy that I bonded with. He was a newer Christian from the church down there. I taught him how to play Euchre, which is really no big deal, but he didn't know a word of English. After two laborious nights of my broken espanol, he finally got it. The day I hugged him good-bye he had tears in his eyes. I wasn't expecting that and was surprised then when I felt a tear stream down my face. I had only known him for a week, and I had impacted his life. Isn't that the beauty of mission trips? They're a blessing to all involved parties. I'm sure I took away for than I gave.
I know if you've been a mission trip, you probably have a similar or even better story. Maybe if we viewed life as one big mission trip we'd enjoy life more than we ever imagined. Maybe we'd impact lives. Maybe we'd be able to change the world.
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| yet another musing of steve-o @ 9:05:00 AM
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| Thursday, January 27, 2005 |
| www.houseofcarr.com |
I've been able to stick with blogging so I'm wadsing further into the water. I decided to purchase a domain name for easy direction to my site [it was rather inexpensive]. I'm going to continue to use the free server space provided by Blogger until I get even more serious and start paying for it. So since I know it isn't easy to spell Beit Carr, I decided to go with www.houseofcarr.com. Thanks for reading my musings.
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| yet another musing of steve-o @ 7:49:00 AM
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| Tribute to My Wife |
Last night I was asked to introduce Kelly before she spoke to our church's woman gathering. I decided to write a poem-like intro. Some of them have special inside meaning and I promise that the first one is not meant to be perverted. That being said, here it is:
Kelly is . . .
Kelly is a hotel bed with multiple pillows- rest for my soul.
Kelly is Palm Springs- an oasis in the middle of a desert.
Kelly is Encyclopedia Brittanica- knowledgeable of many diverse subjects.
Kelly is the chorus of “How Great Thou Art” - a life sung in passionate, stirring harmony.
Kelly is Valentines Day- patient and kind, not envying or boasting.
Kelly is the Deluxe Edition of Spellcheck for Microsoft Word- always knowing what word to use.
Kelly is Barnabas- the perfect partner in ministry.
Kelly is the encouragement note written on the bathroom mirror- always lifting me up.
Kelly is a sit-com audience- a synthesis of hyperventilation, laughter and snorting.
Kelly is Bob the Tomato to my Larry the Cucumber- she will be your friend la,la,la . . .
Kelly is a bag of stuffed animals- tactile-icious!
Kelly is a stethoscope- always listening to the heartbeat of others.
Kelly is Fort Knox- worth far more than rubies.
Kelly is a cup of Diet Coke with four ice cubes- great taste with no calories.
Kelly is University of Kentucky basketball- likeable but sometimes obnoxious.
Kelly is October 23rd- an autumn day drenched in an ever-changing palate of colors.
Kelly is a softball laced into left center- a poetic mix of skill and hustle.
Kelly is an Academy Award- having a flair for the dramatic.
Kelly is what happens after the clicking stops- then the roller coaster descends the first hill.
Kelly is August 1st 1998- The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
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| yet another musing of steve-o @ 7:44:00 AM
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| Wednesday, January 26, 2005 |
| My Type of Typing |
So far this morning I've sent out 11 e-mails and only one of them of the short variety. This is a lot of work for me considering that I never really learned how to type. The only true regret I have from my days in high school is that I never took typing class. You see at good ole' Oak Hills High School they had weighted courses: AP Courses were level 1, College-prep courses were level 2, and everything from Wood Shop to Gym Class were levels 3 and 4. Typing was a level 3 class, which counselors told me would hurt my overall grade point average. So I never took it. I kept my 3.5 high school GPA [which slipped to 2.97 in college] and have been exercising my demented hunt-and-peck system ever since.
I can really produce despite this deficiency. What I do is let my right hand be dominant. With my right hand the first finger is dominant while my third finger [I guess you would call it the ring finger] is responsible for the ever important backspace button. I'll admit, if it weren't for the advent of the PC and the backspace button, I'd have a White-out addiction. My left hand is just along for the ride, with my pinkie hovering near the shift key. I guess the most important thing in this method is that in order for me to get on a roll, there's no way that my eyes can leave the keyboard. I know this goes against typing etiquette, but then again who cares? I'll put out a couple of sentences and then look up to see how I did. I mess up about one word every couple of sentences, so I grab the mouse and correct my mistakes [just for an example, I messed up the word "sentences" because I accidentally hit the "x" key instead of the "c"]. If anyone knows of a program to learn how to type on the computer, I'd be interested, but at the same time, isn't it too late to start over?
But maybe I'll have the last laugh. I mean, you got believe that in ten years or so there'll probably be no more keyboards left. We'll all dictate our words onto the screen via microphone. So there'll be no more typing and I'll still have my 3.5 gpa. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.
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| yet another musing of steve-o @ 9:56:00 AM
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| Tuesday, January 25, 2005 |
| Perspective |
I just bumped my elbow on the doorknob to my office. It was a clean hit to my funny bone and I've got that tingling sensation in my right forearm. "Ow. That sucks," I mutter under my breath. I hate it when anything happens to me; I have a knack of complaining about any inconvenience that comes my way.
I met this guy last night named Mike. He's a youth minister out in Mount Orab, Ohio. He's been sick for a few months and the doctors still aren't quite sure what it is. They've decided it's either some sort of lung infection or lung cancer. Either way, he's undergoing surgery next week to have the top part of one of his lungs removed. Now what I wish you could have seen is the matter of factness that Mike displayed in talking about his situation. His confidence in God was glowing throughout his being; he had a true faith that, whatever happens, there is One who is in control. It was amazing. Interestingly enough, as I shook his hand while saying good-bye, I got a papercut on my pinkie from a folder he was carrying.
Like most Americans, I'm obsessed with me [not "me" meaning Steve Carr, but "me" meaning themselves]. If it isn't happening to me, I don't care nearly as much. Which is worse: a severe paper cut or cancer? Unfortunately, if you're really honest with yourself, it usually depends on which one you've got. That papercut seems more real because I'm living through it. That's why God continually grants us perspective- the ability to look at life from a differing point of view. I need it daily. Perspective forces me to stop focusing on every minuscule detail of Steve and look at what others are going through. This exemplifies our need for other people in order to get along in this world. Without a network of people to offer perspective, you'll lift yourself up as the most important thing in this world- becoming an affront to God, worshipping yourself as an idol. Self-centeredness is a struggle, but it needs to be defeated.
My elbow doesn't even tingle anymore.
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| yet another musing of steve-o @ 10:25:00 AM
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| Monday, January 24, 2005 |
| Brrrrrrrrr |
By the way, I have strong disdain for the cold [I was going to say I hate it, but mom told me it wasn't right to hate things]. I don't know where the cultural tradition began where manly men were supposed to like the cold, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't Sarasota. I was watching the NFL Conference Championships yesterday, played in Pittsburgh and Philadelphia, and all these guys are playing in short sleeves while their breath crystallized before their very eyes. I want to yell at them, "Go ahead and put a turtleneck on. I won't be insulted." To the best of my knowledge, there's no extra credit awarded for scoring a touchdown in sub-freezing weather with bare arms.
Anyway, we're finishing up a cold spell brought on by some Canadian weather system [can Canada do anything right?] so it's been a struggle to keep warm the past few days. We've even had the electric blanket on the past couple of nights to fight the chill. So early this morning, as we woke up, I told Kelly I couldn't believe that the furnace went off. "I guess it's warming up." Yeah, or the power went out. I ran downstairs to get a flashlight and I was already freezing. OK, I'm a wuss, but at least I admit it.
This all leads me to the question of the day: Why do people choose to live in Alaska? A few weeks ago I heard news report about a northern Alaskan town that had lost all power. And it was so remote that it was out for about ten days. Daytime temperatures in the village reached a balmy ten degrees below zero. And I'm supposed to feel bad for these people? Do they not have television, the internet, or even books up there? Don't they know that the further south you travel, the warmer it gets? No way. Couldn't do it. I'd rather burn to death than freeze to death.
The good news: the power was only out at our house for about thirty minutes. The bad news: it's still January in the Cincinnati. But at least it's not Alaska.
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| yet another musing of steve-o @ 7:22:00 AM
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| Thursday, January 20, 2005 |
| The Westside and The White House |
Can you imagine a westsider in the White House? I know what you're thinking: the national treasury moved from Fort Knox and buried in the backyard, cars on blocks in the White House driveway, Pete Rose taking up residence in the Lincoln bedroom. It might sound like a nightmare to you, but it's already happened. In the spirit of this Inaugural Day, I thought I'd relate a bit of the story of the westsider who became President of The United States: William Henry Harrison.
His 2,000 acre estate overlooking the Ohio River was located in North Bend, just outside of Cleves, Ohio [a mere five miles from where I grew up]. He was originally born in Virginia and entered the military. He then settled in the Ohio region, serving as a governor over the Northwest Territory. Harrison got the nickname "Old Tippecanoe" after defeating Indians in a battle at the Tippecanoe River and gained further notoriety during the War of 1812. He became a national hero and the Whig Party nominated him for President.
Many were leary of voting for him in the 1840 election because they thought he was too old and out of touch [at the age of 68, he was one of the oldest men elected President]. Willie wanted to prove that he indeed had vision and was man enough for the job. So for his Inaugural Address he refused to wear a coat in the freezing weather and laid out a vision for the future in a speech that lasted an hour and forty minutes. Because of the overexposure to the elements, Harrison caught pneumonia and died that April.
So even though we westsiders might not be the brightest bunch of people, at least one of our own was President . . . for a month.
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| yet another musing of steve-o @ 1:00:00 PM
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| Wednesday, January 19, 2005 |
| The Miracle Of Life |
I was reading the book of Exodus last night and I find the relationship between God and the Israelites fascinating. Regardless of all the miraculous signs and great things the Lord did, the Israelites constantly refused to submit themselves to Him fully and treat Him as their King.
This Sunday [January 23rd] is Sanctity of Life Sunday- the day set aside to remember the millions of children who have been aborted in the United States since the 1973 Roe vs Wade Supreme Court decision. Much has been said and written about abortion from an American societal perspective, but with this post I want to view a global issue in the abortion conversation.
This article discusses a problem China is experiencing. In 1979, in an attempt to curb their rapid population growth, the Chinese government instituted a one-child per family policy. Penalties for not adhering to the law include forced hysterectomies and abortions. More than twenty-five years later, they're experiencing an unexpected backlash: not enough girls. Males are preferred by parents, because it's the son's responsibility to care for elderly parents. If a family has a daughter, her parents are left with no one to look after them in their latter years. So as a way of insuring social security, if a couple discovers via an ultrasound that their one allotted child is female, they abort and try again to get a male. These boys are now growing up to find no wives are available for them. Currently, for every 100 births in China, there are about twenty more boys born than girls. So now the Chinese government is trying to rectify the problem by making it illegal to abort a female fetus. The Chinese people are finding wats around this new law, still trying for boys.
China instituted the one-child per family as a way to control the population. Now they're figuring out the hard way that there are always consequences to trying to control the uncontrollable.
"When does life actually begin?" appears to be the central issue behind the abortion debate. But perhaps everything actually hinges on human arrogance- in people wanting to play the role of God. When we rob God of this ultimate decision making status [deciding who lives and dies], we overstep our bounds. Although there are many issues and subissues in the abortion debate [here's an excellent article on Relevant's website], maybe it all goes back to the book of Exodus: people struggling to accept the Kingship of God. We need to beware of concentrating too much on the fruit and the branches; everything starts in the roots.
Still, it's said that in China, over 2 millions abortions are performed per year. Add to that the 1.2 million abortions performed in the US every year. Then remember that the Holocaust cost the lives of 6 million people.
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| yet another musing of steve-o @ 9:05:00 AM
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| Monday, January 17, 2005 |
| When I'm Old |
I apologize for the absence of a post during the past few days. It was a hectic week, and this ended up being low priority. I'm just impressed that I've kept this blog thing going. I guess I'm hooked.
I'm a jack of all trades here at the church, so when there's something that they can't get anyone else to do, I'm the guy they call. Tuesday night and Wednesday morning, I ran the sound system for two different gatherings of Christian Senior Citizens. The featured performer was this woman who played the piano extremely well. She even appeared on the Pat Sajak show once [how did Pat snake his way into a TV gig without Vanna?]. For both the performances hundreds of senior citizens sat engaged as this lady tickled them ivories. Not having much else to do, I contemplated on the future and wondered what Christian Senior Citizen gatherings will be like when I'm old and gray. The following is how it plays out in my mind:
The scene unfolds, fifty years into the future. The Olson twins are President, aided by a Constitutional Amendment that allows twins to run for the office together. Bob Barker still hosts the Price Is Right [who knew cryogenics would actually work?] and a cup of Starbucks coffee costs $1,500,000 without the whipped cream. The Cincinnati Area Senior Citizens Gathering is about to begin. Steve and Kelly Carr, who've made it through over fifty years of marriage without killing each other, take their seats.
Old Man Steve: This facility sucks. I still hate this place.
Old Woman Kelly: Now Steve, try not to be so negative.
Old Man Steve: I can't help it! Who would've ever thought that a church would buy Riverfront Coliseum, which used to be the First Star Center, which used to be US Bank Arena, which used to be the I Can't Believe It's Not Butter Gardens, which used to be Frank's Prenatal Care Sporting Arena, which used to be . . .
Old Woman Kelly: Alright already! I get the point! Geez, you still ramble. And now you drool too.
Old Man Steve: Well I just never imagined Cincinnati would be home to the first 100,000 person megachurch. And I still can't believe that Matthew McCann would've grown up to be a preacher of a church like that. I used to kick that rugrat in the hallways at church.
Old Woman Kelly: Well you never know what God's going to do, do you?
Old Man Steve: Obviously not. So who's on the schedule for this thing today?
Old Woman Kelly: Well it's an old fashioned church sing, like the ones we used to have years ago.
Old Man Steve: Really? Who's leading the music?
Old Woman Kelly: David Crowder, Chris Tomlin, and the Ottoman band.
Old Man Steve: The Ottoman band? We know those guys! Man, they were never the same after Coates left the band for his solo career.
Old Woman Kelly: True, but I guess he knew what he was doing. His drum solo album went triple platinum. Never would've guessed that drum solo albums would get so popular.
Old Man Steve: Tell me about it. Anyway I'm just thrilled to listen to so good old fashioned worship music. Not this modern crap that's out now-a-days. They just do it like they used to.
Old Woman Kelly: Now Steve, you used to be pretty progressive yourself, trying to get people to give modern worship a chance.
Old Man Steve: I don't care! I just want them to go back to the good old days when we had electric guitars and turntables. These new instruments that they use are overrated.
Old Woman Kelly: Honey, it's an organ and a piano. They're hardly new instruments.
Old Man Steve: Don't infect my mind with those lies, woman! They're instruments of the devil. And anyway, the noise level just isn't appropriate for a worship service.
Old Woman Kelly: What are you talking about? It's lower than we were younger. You can actually hear and understand the words being sung.
Old Man Steve: Exactly! If your eardrums aren't bleeding because it isn't loud enough, than how in the world is God going to be able to hear it? It's not like he had Wi-Fi chip implanted into his brain like the rest of us down here.
Old Woman Kelly: Music doesn't have to be loud, honey. It's just a different style.
Old Man Steve: Plus, it's so bright in here! How can people worship if it's not so dark that I miss my nose when I'm picking it? No candles or nothing!
Old Woman Kelly: Now settle down, Steve. You'll aggravate your artificial heart, lungs, teeth, hair and eyeballs.
Old Man Steve: . . . and all they do is sing those hymns that are hundreds of years old! If God intended us to still sing that junk, he would've inspired them to use terms like "Snap" or "Word"- catch phrases that never became un-cool during the past fifty years. It's not like it used to be.
Old Woman Kelly: Things change, Steve. You of all people should know that.
Old Man Steve: Just forget it! I'm so wound up that I'm leaving. I'm taking my jet pack back to our condo at the Mason Christian Village, Lunar Campus.
Old Woman Kelly: Just don't forget to turn your turn signal off after you're finished. It's so embarrassing when you fly around with your blinker on.
Old Man Steve: You're so embarrassing, you embarrasser!
Old Woman Kelly: Nice comeback.
Old Man Steve: Yeah, I still have nothing left in the tank.
Steve flies away on his jet pack, turn signal flashing.
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| yet another musing of steve-o @ 8:58:00 AM
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| Tuesday, January 11, 2005 |
| ET Phone Home |
Just by introducing this post with that quote, Kelly will get mad. She hates ET with a passion. Interesting, huh? Anyway, we're thinking of losing our LAN line. This is probably one of the toughest household decisions we've had to make since the spaghetti incident of 2000. For some of you this is a no brainer: you've been using your cellphone for everything and have never looked back. But we're right past that line of demarcation of being too old to make the switch boldly. I think if we were in our early to mid-twenties, we would have done it by now. It just seems to make sense to go for it.
For the past month we averaged two incoming calls a day, and of all those calls we received, half were from telemarketers. With free long distance on cells now, it seems time to change. Plus, there's the economics behind it. Our Cincinnati Bell phone bill runs us about thirty bucks a month. We want to pick up high speed internet, which would be an additional utility cost, so why not lose one and pick up the other?
So I'm feeling good about everything, ready to pull the trigger. And last night we get six phone calls. What the heck?
Here's my problem: I've become one of those people I swore I'd never be- one who resists change. I always preach about embracing change and facing it head-on, but I guess I'm just full of it. I've never not had a home phone line, so I become uncertain. I heard from someone who cancelled their LAN line that the phone company tries to scare you from quitting it. They say things like, "if you call 9-1-1, they'll not automatically know where you are" and "what if your cell phone dies." If I show any doubt or weakness, they'll eat me alive.
But I've done it before. YES, I CAN DO IT AGAIN! I own CDs and rarely listen to cassettes. I own a DVD player and hardly ever watch a video tape. I've been using cell phones since college. I depend on my PC, remote control and garage door opener- none of which I had in the days of my youth.
I'm only twenty-nine. I'm too young to become one of those people. Oh no, I will not. I refuse to give in. I'm calling the phone company tomorrow . . . unless I'm lazy and do it later in the week.
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| yet another musing of steve-o @ 6:18:00 PM
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| Monday, January 10, 2005 |
| I'll Be There For You [until I'm not] |
You might want to get a black armband and begin the official mourning period: Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston are separating. After seven years together and over four years of marriage, they've decided to move on- without each other.
On Good Morning America today, Charlie Gibson asked, "if two people like Pitt and Aniston, who have everything going fo them, can't make it work, what hope does that leave for anyone else?" Using a celebrity relationship as a basis for "regular people's" marriage is like using my golf game as a teaching tool for PGA Tour professionals- pointless. Let's work through Charlie's thought process. the power couple had everything: good looks, lots of money, fame . . . just about anything anyone could want in this life. Why wouldn't a loving relationship be able to flourish under these circumstances? The undiscussed variable is the added tention these celebrity marriages undergo because of their professions.
Both Pitt and Aniston's jobs put them in sexual situations with other people. I've heard celebrities talk about love scenes with other actors saying things like, "It's totally professional. It's all just acting." I just don't buy it. Humans are emotional creatures, not animals. The rumor is [and I'm not into tabloid gossip, so understand that this is all National Enquirer type stuff] that Pitt became attracted to Angelina Jolie while filming "Mr and Mrs Smith." I saw the somewhat racy trailer to this movie and my impression is that the two probably had to spend a lot of time together in compromising situations all for the sake of working. Spending long periods of time together with someone who is not your spouse isn't a good idea.
This might sound basic, but it's something to remember everytime you hear one of these celebrity marriages in ending: it doesn't matter how much you have going for you- fidelity is fundamental to a long-lasting marriage. That's not to say marriages can't survive an affair and couples need to try to work through it as much as possible. But with these celebs, even if both sides say they're cool with it, the mutual trust of the relationship is eroded and this is the result.
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| yet another musing of steve-o @ 8:56:00 AM
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| Friday, January 07, 2005 |
| That's One Ugly Book Cover |
I just finished a good year of reading. In 2004, I read more books than I had between 2002 and 2003. I capped of the year by reading one of the longest books I've ever read. It was James Michener's The Source and it ended up at 1078 pages. This book was recommended to me by a person who went with Bible Historian Ray VanderLaan to the Holy Land, so I'm gunning for the full experience when Kelly and I go there in February. But about the book, it was . . . fiction.
Now if you know me, you understand that I never really read fiction because I find it pointless. Before I read The DiVinci Code [a copy of which someone had left behind in church . . . HA!!! Get it? Left Behind? Fictional Book? Total Bull Crap? I digress . . . ], I hadn't read fiction in years. To my understanding, the reason you're supposed to read fiction is to lose yourself in a story. Personally, I'd rather drop a couple of hours of my time in a movie than spending days to read a book. But I've discovered this thing called historical fiction [like Chaim Potok's The Chosen]. I find this to be somewhat tolerable, because I'm gleaning some tangible info in the context of a story. We'll see if I can keep stomaching this type of fiction.
As for 2005, I'm focusing on reading the Bible in multiple versions, including wading through the original languages. I hear it's a good book. And it's not fiction.
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| yet another musing of steve-o @ 9:01:00 AM
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| Wednesday, January 05, 2005 |
| You Make Me Wanna BLEEEECH! |
Although Tuesday night's Orange Bowl didn't produce a competitive BCS National Championship game, the halftime extravaganza more than made up for it. Watching Southern Cal massacre the Sooners was merely an appetizer. For halftime we were promised the unveiling of the new U2 video of "All Because Of You." It was somewhat disappointing since the ABC people polluted it with a montage of first half highlights/lowlights. But the real treat was the halftime performance which preceded it.
Ashlee Simpson- singing live. Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.
You knew a train wreck was coming because the singers before her had microphone and monitor problems. Both Kelly Clarkson and Trace Adkins [nice diet] struggled to hear themselves; they had to use a back-up microphone when the first one didn't work. This was setting everything up for a memorable performance by Miss Ashlee. Her studio manipulated vocals didn't stand a chance.
But first I've gotta protest this: they introduced her as, "Superstar Ashlee Simpson." Are you kidding me? Who are they trying to fool? Just because her CD was a top seller for one week doesn't mean she's a superstar [and I sincerely hope that those purchases were all made by pre-teens, because if you're an adult and you bought that album, you should be shot]. She sang her new song "La-La" as in "you make me want to La-La." My wife and I were trying to figure out if that phrase is really a euphemism for sex. If you figure that one out, let me know.
She was a wretched mix of missed notes and awkward stage movements. I'm really not sure if the wannabe punk/pop/rap/opera star butchered the song because the song itself is so ridiculous. I was feeling like those NASCAR fans who watch for the crashes. The fact that the performance was painful is what made it enjoyable. And the reaction of the Orange Bowl crowd: a chorus of boos. Whoever scheduled the performers for the halftime-show should have considered the possibility that inebriated football fans probably aren't Ashlee Simpson's fanbase. What a show.
While I want to blame poor Ashlee for the atrocity that is her music career, the guilty culprit is really her father. The former minister turned media mogul decided to sell out his daughters to America just to make a buck. I hope the money is worth it.
Boo, I say. Boo.
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| yet another musing of steve-o @ 11:04:00 AM
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| Monday, January 03, 2005 |
| Burn, Baby, Burn! |
Mad props to my wife for this posting. I know, I know, no one says "mad props" anymore, but if leg warmers are back in style, "mad props" has gotta be back soon. Kelly forwarded me the link from this Christian music-ish website that is trying to dissuade people from burning CDs that they didn't pay for. They're selling t-shirts that have slogans printed on them such as, "WWJB- What would Jesus Burn?" and "Jesus loves the little Children- except those that burn CDs." My absolute favorite, though, has to be the ever popular "Burn CDs . . . Burn In Hell."
Now I'm a recovering burner myself [I say, "Um, hi . . . my name is Steve and I'm a CD burner." Everyone else says, "WE LOVE YOU, STEVE!"]. Pirated Guns 'n' Roses cassettes in high school were my gateway and I hit the gutter on Napster. But I finally felt convicted that I was stealing and that's still one of those Ten Commandment and that I should stop doing bad things. Even though I felt no guilt from my theft, I needed to purge the habit from my lifestyle. I've been clean ever since, but I'll always be a recovering burner.
So even though I'm totally against illegal CD burning, I find the messages on these shirts ridiculous. I have a low tolerance for the Christian Contemporary Music industry as is [read John Fischer's Fearless Faith], but this just pushes it to a new low. I have two gripes:
BEFORE I RANT: I was unable to figure out who actually produced these shirts. I bet the people who thought of the shirts aren't even the actual artists, but promoters and label execs who make a living off CCM artists. If this is the case, I apologize in advance to the innocent. I know these shirts don't totally reflect the entire CCM industry, but someone needs to be blamed. We had Sanctus Real at our church last week and they were some awesome guys. It's too bad that the people who made these stupid t-shirts give Christian performers a bad rep.
1) These people don't appreciate how blessed they are to be able to make a living from their music. True, God calls people to certain ministries and a worker is worth his keep [I Timothy 5:18], but is it really "a ministry" when you charge twenty to forty bucks to participate in it [by purchasing a CD or a concert ticket]? You might say, "But Steve, you get paid as a minister! People have to pay you for your ministry by giving offering to the church." In a sense this is true, but no one is forced to tithe to a church, unless they serve Kool-Aid or where Black Nike Shoes. I guess it'd be different if CDs and concert tickets were free and people were asked to donate to their music ministry. Being a CCM artist is a huge blessing and instead of retaliating against music piraters with t-shirts [which by the way cost $15 each, another way to make some cash], they should find a more appropriate way to preach against.
2) The message of the "Burn CDs, Burn in Hell" shirt is a calloused one. I'm not sure its creator realizes how insensitive it really is. If I'm a non-Christian and I see someone wearing one of the "Burn In Hell" t-shirts, am I more or less likely to understand the grace of Jesus? These CCM people are trying to be all edgy and hardcore using the word "hell" on a t-shirt. Congrats on that. It's about as offensive as those shirts with Jesus on them that say, "Body Piercing Saved My Life." I'm just not impressed. Just a sidenote, I'm rather leery of condemning people to hell- that's in God's job description and not mine. I try to stay in my place and leave the eternal damnation to Him.
I could say more, but I'm really tired of the whole thing. Sorry for ranting. I guess it's my wife's fault for showing me in the first place [kidding, Kel].
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| yet another musing of steve-o @ 5:06:00 PM
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| A Family's Story About The Tsunami |
Ali Mueller is a young lady from our church who attends and plays soccer for Malone College. Back during the Thanksgiving holiday, she invited a couple of her teammates from Great Britain to spend the break here in Mason. One of the girls was named Fleur [how could you forget a name like that?] who attended Matt Redman's home church. Really nice girl. She and her family were in Sri Lanka when the tsunami hit. Her dad wrote up the story of their family's experience, which I offer up to you. We here in the States will never be able to fathom all that happened there, but I hope reading this will give us perspective. It's a little lengthy, but well worth the read. Just click here for a PDF version of the letter.
If you want to donate money to the relief effort, a great organization within our churches is IDES [the International Disaster Emergency Service]. You can be sure that all of your money will go to the cause.
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| yet another musing of steve-o @ 4:31:00 PM
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| If you smelllllllllll, what Steve is cooking! |
Although it can be most useful, it's sometimes a bother to have a conscience. This past week was my 29th birthday so one of my Sunday School classes [shout out to the Curious?] threw me a little birthday gathering yesterday. They gave me twenty-nine of various things, from rolls of toilet paper, to antacid tablets, to marshmallows, to Westside jokes [which were really redneck jokes, Jen, so they don't count].
Anyway, the most unique gift was twenty-nine of those car air fresheners shaped like leaves [thanks, Tim]. The smell of all of them together was quite overpowering and, knowing that there was no way those were going home with me, I decided to throw them into Howard's office. All last night I felt sorta guilty; I mean, Howard always jokes around with everyone, but he's never done anything to warrant a smell punishment like that. The guy even buys me lunch at Skyline every once in awhile. So I came clean this morning, telling him I played a joke on him.
He really didn't notice to much. He thought someone had just plugged in an air-freshener to send him a message. So he thought it was funny. But for the next couple days, his office will emit the nice combination of Wild Cherry, Drakar Noir and Pine.
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| yet another musing of steve-o @ 8:41:00 AM
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| Sunday, January 02, 2005 |
| Back in the saddle again |
Not that anyone's been wondering, but I've been on my very own Christmas break. It was a great time of sleeping in, reading some books, watching DVDs, and eating anything I could before buckling down and getting back in shape for 2005 [no seriously, I'm getting back into shape from my old soccer-playing days].
I've sorta missed my blogging, so maybe this thing is actually working out. I'll post some updates this week to make up for it.
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| yet another musing of steve-o @ 7:22:00 AM
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