I finally got one--a "giant" iPod like my sons have. I had maxed out the thousand-song capacity of my smaller iPod months ago and just stopped adding new music at all, because to earn the space to add, I had to choose something to remove. I had already axed so many lesser tracks from albums that the choices were becoming impossible. Who can choose between losing a Dylan classic or one of the latest Delirious? tunes? I had bumped up against my tune carrying capacity and only the upgrade could save me.
But, once I got the upgrade, I immediately plugged in the ridiculously long number on the back of the $25 iTunes card I had been holding onto for months and I was suddenly set free in the world of spending and space to store! I thought it would be a great moment for me (it was certainly an anticipated one), but instead, my zeal turned to inertia as I sat overwhelmed. Every genre of music called to me--things I had heard on satellite radio and thought again and again, "I must get that..."--obscure things from my teenage years that, now that I reflect, may have meant more to me than I realized...it was all too much. Rational thought told me that this was only the beginning and I could load songs to my heart's content, but at that moment, I didn't know where to begin. What did I really want?
Then the strangest thing happened. Out of the milleau of David Crowder band, folk rock and 70's possibilities (I already have all Dave Matthews and U2), a memory arose. One of my most pleasant memories is taxi-ing on a British Airways-owned vehicle, whether it be a plane going to or from the gate, or the tram between terminals at Gatwick. In those moments, I am treated to the ethereal voices of women singing opera in soft, lilting harmony. Yes, I bonded with the British Airways music. Something about it made me feel like I was living my dream of world travel and even if my overnight flight had bumped and bounced through stomach-churning turbulence in economy class, those ladies' voices made me feel like I was a first-class passenger. I had made a mental note: must get that music. But how to find such a song? I had no idea.
So, I typed in the only two key words that I could come up with: "British" and "classical". Due to the wonder of information systems, within seconds, I had downloaded the Flower Duet from the opera Lakme much to my amazement. (There was actually an album of classical music from television that included the British Airways designation in the title!) That successful acquisition instantly brought another musical desire to my mind: the thing that is playing when they show the video of the queen's coronation--and that useful designation is all the information I seemed to have on that. So, back to the keyword search I went and typed in "coronation". Lo and behold, there are albums of, wait for it, "coronation music" on iTunes! And once I was presented with the titles, I recognized Handel's Zadok the Priest and presto!
So, this morning at the gym, rather than using my usual work-out accompaniment, I did my cardio to The Flower Duet and Zadok the Priest from my new, expanded iPod collection. It was memorable and surreal.
What is the point? I'm not sure there needs to be one, for it would be enough to celebrate my eccentricity related to this topic, however, a point does strike me. We speak often in the church of buried dreams and desires that God wants to unearth. I wonder how often we believe it. Hope deferred, as the Bible says, really does make the heart sick. We have given our hearts to so many things that haven't worked out. Our sick hearts, when presented with clean slates and asked "What do you want?" often do what my mind did before the endless possibilities of iTunes...they just freeze up.
But, I think God has surprises in store for us in terms of buried dreams. If we would simply dare to intitiate the search--grabbing on to the few key words we seem to have, God--who is even more vast, capable and informed than iTunes--would supernaturally put us in touch with some of the things we have longed for for years. Matt Redman in his song Believer says, "I am a dreamer with some old dreams...let them now come."
We toss away old dreams that haven't manifested, not realizing that God (to whom "manifestation" is not such a big deal) hasn't tossed them. If you have lived through some highs and lows in your Christian life and you still love God, your capacity to hold dreams may have been upgraded like my iPod! Years of trusting God when you couldn't trace him may have expanded you and God may be wanting to download some things into you that will connect with the depths of your being! Go ahead, do the search and let the soundtrack of your life be changed. He's waiting for you in your dreams....
And for me...so what if many of my dreams have a British accent like my song choices? I have long since ceased trying to explain that. Stranger callings and drawings have been experienced in the Kingdom. I continue to feel that across-the-pond connection, though I feel more tied in than ever to my own city, state and nation, satisfied that God knows where we all live!
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Shine On You Crazy Diamond
Several events in my life recently layered themselves to direct my attention to Pink Floyd (I'm sure that happens to all redeemed retro's from time to time, right?). My son's 5th grade science fair project in which we constructed a light box and attempted to view the spectrums created by various prisms (purchased at moderate expense on e-bay) was heavy on inspiration but light on actual results, so I went in search of a way to add a little pizzazz to his presentation. Two days before the event, my only hope of finding a prism with color spectrum on a t-shirt was--of course--finding a Pink Floyd Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt at the local Target. (I admit I enjoyed imagining the quizzical looks at the sight of a 10 year old pastor's kid wearing the shirt, but that's another blog entry...)
Our good friend, Norman Barnes, happened to be staying with us when Noel first put on his t-shirt. You must know Norman to imagine his response, so I will attempt to succinctly describe him. One part quintessential British gentleman, one part rock and roller and one more part fiery preacher, he is unforgettable indeed. And he LOVES Pink Floyd. When he saw Noel in the shirt, Norman interrupted whatever conversation may have been going on at the time with his impromtu rendition of Shine on You Crazy Diamond, reminding us all how much he loved that song. We all chuckled (and later when we caught him not listening to a discussion, accused him of actually having Pink Floyd piped into his hearing aid), but the song stuck with me days after he had returned to his flat on the English coast.
The phrase intrigued me. I had been meditating on the gifts described in Romans chapter 12, gifts we who like to name things often call, "the motivational gifts" because they seem to describe a person's gestalt or innate inner agenda. What had occurred to me when reading these gift descriptions (Romans 12:6-8) was that rather than cautioning us about the possible excesses of our natural bents, God seems to be handing out hearty endorsements. In other words, rather than saying, "Now you administrative types, you be careful that you don't become too bossy and alienate those around you...," God rather says, "If you are going to administrate, do it with diligence!" Everything in me thinks, "But God, people (including myself) will go wild--you'll have a free for all on your hands! Are you really advocating the unbridled release of whatever is inside us??? Wouldn't that give free reign to the flesh?" Once I ceased from the ever-useless argument with the Creator, I realized that I still didn't understand "the flesh".
God endorses, encourages and even sponsors the release of the gifts he put inside us. HE is not the inner governor that tells us, "be careful and don't overdo." THAT, once finally unmasked, is actually the voice of the flesh powered by that irritatingly persistant force: the fear of man (the fear of what people would think if I dared to "shine"). God created us with inner circuitry intended to receive the flow of his divine energy--each of us is a laser light show that declares, "there is a God," in our own unique way. Ultimately, I became so passionate about this facet of the goodness of God that I summarized it, in "Maxwellian" leadership form, as something I called, "The Law of Endsorsement," stating it in this way: "You enter a new zone of power when you realize that God, who created the essence of your being not only wants to release you to be yourself but further wants to display himself through your uniqueness."
My Law of Endorsement, however, seemed to have already found expression (minus the inclusion of God) in Shine On You Crazy Diamond. Thanks to YouTube, I was able to quickly access a version of the song and thanks to Wikipedia, I was able to fill in the gaps in my knowledge about it and about Pink Floyd. It turns out that the song was written as a tribute to Syd Barrett, the member of the group whose head was ravaged by the drugs and fame so much so that he had to leave the group. The words call out to him to somehow keep on shining--adding his own important hues to the color spectrum of humanity. They are a moving call to anyone who has fallen from the mainstream and is edging into oblivion--a call to life, even when life doesn't make sense.
If Pink Floyd could see that every diamond needs to shine on, no matter how "crazy" they may appear to others...that every person was created with a beauty meant to be displayed and not hidden, surely the body of Christ can see that truth! If they can issue a beautiful and haunting call to shake off the shame of personal tragedy and commit to letting our inner light shine, surely Christians whose light is fused with God's can actually answer that call!
The diamond metaphor infers that the pressures and heat of our lives only serve, in the grand scheme of things, to compress boring carbon into stunning gemstone. And it further implies that our gifts, like diamonds in the ground, may be buried deep under a whole lot of earth that masks their value. But still, in spite of it all, I hear Norman Barnes singing loudly in my head, Shine On You Crazy Diamond...more than that, I think I hear echoes of Jesus in that song. Because the fact is, HE is glorified when I remove the inauthenticicty and just dare to shine...and he is NOT glorified when through false humility, I fail to...
Our good friend, Norman Barnes, happened to be staying with us when Noel first put on his t-shirt. You must know Norman to imagine his response, so I will attempt to succinctly describe him. One part quintessential British gentleman, one part rock and roller and one more part fiery preacher, he is unforgettable indeed. And he LOVES Pink Floyd. When he saw Noel in the shirt, Norman interrupted whatever conversation may have been going on at the time with his impromtu rendition of Shine on You Crazy Diamond, reminding us all how much he loved that song. We all chuckled (and later when we caught him not listening to a discussion, accused him of actually having Pink Floyd piped into his hearing aid), but the song stuck with me days after he had returned to his flat on the English coast.
The phrase intrigued me. I had been meditating on the gifts described in Romans chapter 12, gifts we who like to name things often call, "the motivational gifts" because they seem to describe a person's gestalt or innate inner agenda. What had occurred to me when reading these gift descriptions (Romans 12:6-8) was that rather than cautioning us about the possible excesses of our natural bents, God seems to be handing out hearty endorsements. In other words, rather than saying, "Now you administrative types, you be careful that you don't become too bossy and alienate those around you...," God rather says, "If you are going to administrate, do it with diligence!" Everything in me thinks, "But God, people (including myself) will go wild--you'll have a free for all on your hands! Are you really advocating the unbridled release of whatever is inside us??? Wouldn't that give free reign to the flesh?" Once I ceased from the ever-useless argument with the Creator, I realized that I still didn't understand "the flesh".
God endorses, encourages and even sponsors the release of the gifts he put inside us. HE is not the inner governor that tells us, "be careful and don't overdo." THAT, once finally unmasked, is actually the voice of the flesh powered by that irritatingly persistant force: the fear of man (the fear of what people would think if I dared to "shine"). God created us with inner circuitry intended to receive the flow of his divine energy--each of us is a laser light show that declares, "there is a God," in our own unique way. Ultimately, I became so passionate about this facet of the goodness of God that I summarized it, in "Maxwellian" leadership form, as something I called, "The Law of Endsorsement," stating it in this way: "You enter a new zone of power when you realize that God, who created the essence of your being not only wants to release you to be yourself but further wants to display himself through your uniqueness."
My Law of Endorsement, however, seemed to have already found expression (minus the inclusion of God) in Shine On You Crazy Diamond. Thanks to YouTube, I was able to quickly access a version of the song and thanks to Wikipedia, I was able to fill in the gaps in my knowledge about it and about Pink Floyd. It turns out that the song was written as a tribute to Syd Barrett, the member of the group whose head was ravaged by the drugs and fame so much so that he had to leave the group. The words call out to him to somehow keep on shining--adding his own important hues to the color spectrum of humanity. They are a moving call to anyone who has fallen from the mainstream and is edging into oblivion--a call to life, even when life doesn't make sense.
If Pink Floyd could see that every diamond needs to shine on, no matter how "crazy" they may appear to others...that every person was created with a beauty meant to be displayed and not hidden, surely the body of Christ can see that truth! If they can issue a beautiful and haunting call to shake off the shame of personal tragedy and commit to letting our inner light shine, surely Christians whose light is fused with God's can actually answer that call!
The diamond metaphor infers that the pressures and heat of our lives only serve, in the grand scheme of things, to compress boring carbon into stunning gemstone. And it further implies that our gifts, like diamonds in the ground, may be buried deep under a whole lot of earth that masks their value. But still, in spite of it all, I hear Norman Barnes singing loudly in my head, Shine On You Crazy Diamond...more than that, I think I hear echoes of Jesus in that song. Because the fact is, HE is glorified when I remove the inauthenticicty and just dare to shine...and he is NOT glorified when through false humility, I fail to...
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