Doug likes green eggs and ham

My four-year-old friend Elizabeth and I recently came to a conclusion. "Bizzle" (as I call her) and I were reading through the classic Dr. Seuss tale of the critter who had never tried green eggs and ham much to the dismay of a much smaller "Sam-I-Am." We noticed that while "Sam-I-Am" was identified on most every page, the green egg hating, furry thing had no name. We paused and I asked, "Hey, what is this guy's name?" Eliza-Bizzle just shrugged. The thought had never crossed her mind. I suggested we call him "Doug" and we continued reading.

I wonder how many people walk namelessly in and out of our lives every day? They take our food orders, collect our tolls and deliver our pizzas. We might give them pseudo names based on what they do ... toll guy, pizza man and paper boy ... but we rarely think of them as people with names.

I remember a woman who walked all over our town talking to herself. She would have animated conversations with invisible people. Everyone knew her as "Crazy Mary." Then there's "Stinky Pete." He wears a wool hat all summer and rides an old bike loaded down with returnable bottles and cans he has dug out of trash barrels. "Fast Eddy" looks to be about 85. He walks up and down the same street all day long at a snail's pace wearing a woman's leather coat. At least he used to walk. I haven't seen Fast Eddy in quite some time.

Like our "Doug" none of these people have names known to me. They are just part of my daily story; part of the supporting cast.

Last week I took an afternoon and headed for our local park with a few Arby's roast beef sandwiches in a sack. My goal was simple. I wanted to find a park bench, share some lunch and hear the story of one of the homeless guys who sleep on the grass. I sat next to a weathered man who was doing his best to get every last bit of taste out of his cigarette. The ash was down to the filter.

He didn't want a sandwich at first so I just asked him where he was from. We talked about the weather. He complained about the seagulls and we laughed a little. As I crumpled up my wrapper and got ready to leave, I extended my hand and said, "My name's Scott, what's your name?" He looked puzzled for a second and then shook my hand with, "I'm Roger." I told him I had enjoyed talking with him and then asked, "You sure you don't want one of these sandwiches, Roger? I don't need the extra calories." He nodded and laughed and told me I was definitely a "big boy" and then took a sandwich.

Elizabeth and I now routinely notice "Doug" when we read Green Eggs and Ham. And now I find myself looking for Roger each time I drive by Deering Oaks Park. Names are important. That's why Jesus calls us by name.

He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. John 10:3

Fasting from church music

When the music fades
All is stripped away
And I simply come ...
(Matt Redman)

I love music. I wonder if I love it too much? Like St. Augustine in chapter 10 of Confessions, I have a tendency to get wrapped up in the artist, the vocalist, the compilation and the performance. I begin to think, "Wow, these guys are really good," or "I love this song!" Augustine wrote,"I fluctuate between the danger of pleasure and the experience of the beneficent effect...."

The danger of pleasure is that it is self-focused. We can become so focused on seeking the experience, the pleasure, that we miss God Himself. When Redman's pastor, Mike Pilavachi, saw this problem in their church in Waterford, England he literally pulled the plug. The church removed the sound system, packed the instruments away and song leaders took a seat with everyone else. Redman penned "The Heart of Worship" as instruments and PA were reintroduced six months later. "I'll bring you more than a song, for a song in itself, is not what you have required ... I'm coming back the the heart of worship ... it's all about you, Jesus."

I have friends who are worship leaders. I love these guys. I know their hearts. I know they want to point people to Jesus and see their music serve as a bridge connecting people with the heart of God. I appreciate their humility and their desire to be real. I also know what a struggle it is for them when sound equipment malfunctions or things do not go as planned. I know their desire for excellence. But, if I could give them a gift, I would give them freedom to grasp that the Lord is more concerned with their desire to make a joyful noise rather than a perfect noise. I would invite them to unwrap the truth that the Holy Spirit will take their offering and do His job. All they need do is lay it on the table, give it to Jesus and walk away.

I have never been much of a fan of Chris Tomlin's music. I mean, it's good but it wasn't on my iPOD. Then I attended one of his concerts at a sumer festival. Chris led a crowd of 10,000 or so people in worship music. I was a surprised worshipper having expected just another show. Chris became invisible. The Lord moved me to tears. I went from singing loudly to not being able to sing at all. Chris is now on my iPOD. Each time I listen I am not transported back to thinking about what a talented musician he is. I am brought to worship.

Lately I've become a music critic. Regardless of the format, traditional or contemporary, I have fallen into evaluating the performance, the sound, the song selection and the delivery. I even notice the font size and backgrounds used in Powerpoint slides. But, I don't notice Jesus. To be clear, this is entirely MY issue and not a representation of the leaders or participants. It is my heart issue. I am distracted.

This morning I decided to fast for a bit. I am fasting from music. It was strange showing up halfway through the service but I adjusted. My first impression was that I was better focused and enjoyed paging through Scripture on my Blackberry.

Shalom

Shalom. A greeting but more. More than hello. More than goodbye.

Shalom. Peace in the complete security of God who holds everything.
Shalom. It is a well-wish that says, "May you live in the complete, consistent, grace-filled reality of Yaweh.

The world is anti-peace. Jesus Christ is peace. In fact, Jesus tells us that He brings us perfect peace. Being such a stranger to His holiness, I wonder what "perfect peace" looks like.

I think some of us attach peace to a setting. Some say peace is attached to sitting by a lake at sunset. Or peace is watching a sleeping infant. Or peace is the emotion that comes when Christ followers join together in singing.

But, is peace an emotion? If I feel it, I've got it? I think it's more than that.

Where legalism begins, grace ends. Where grace ends, peace ends.
Peace is a faith-filled confidence in who God is. It is complete. In the face of struggle it is calm and assured. It is based in trust. It is the fruit of relationship with God that teaches us that He is for us. He is fond of us.

When we say, "Shalom" we say, "May you know the peace of the completing love of God."

I wonder what anti-peace principles I have promoted in ministry.

If your peace has been undermined by me, my demands, please forgive me.

I am learning peace for myself. I wish I learned it sooner.