Extreme Logical Consequences

My dad recently wrote a blog entry (sadly, there's no real permalink - it's the 9/6/09 one) where he starts off by saying that recently he seriously considered resigning as pastor. I'm sure that phrase kind of shocked a lot of people. But me, I totally understood it, because, and it pains me to say this, but I'm exactly like him.

It pains me because I don't necessarily agree with everything he believes and has done. But when it comes down to it, the way we think is totally alike. Even though, in my youthful arrogance, I think that my thought process is better than his.

In particular, I do what he describes in that entry all the time. I take a premise to its full, logical conclusion, and sometimes those conclusions can be extreme and shocking. I know this because I sometimes tell Jieun what they are (if it comes up in a discussion or disagreement) and she's totally shocked. But that's how I operate. My life is all about logical consequences. It's completely accurate to say that my faith in Christianity is, for me, a logical consequence. So it's always necessary for me to explore a logical consequence to the full, no matter how extreme the personal implications are. And I'm pretty sure that, if it became a necessity, I'd follow it out.

Like, I've long said that if I weren't a Christian, I'd probably have killed myself. That probably sounds extreme. But to me, it's just a logical consequence. Purpose is vitally important to me. I've explored other belief systems (and non-belief systems outside of Christianity), and none of them are both logically compelling and provide a compelling purpose for existence. Like, I find atheistic materialism logically consistent, but purposefully meaningless. I find secular humanism purposeful but not logically compelling. So yeah, in the absence of Christianity, I'm not sure why I'd keep on living.

The thing is, these logical implications are extreme but, in a sense, irrelevant, because I always end up - like my dad - rejecting the premises they're based on. Like, I'm not going to kill myself. I am a Christian. So outwardly, it seems like nothing's happened at all. But inwardly, I frequently explore extreme logical consequences, and when people like Jieun get a glimpse, it's shocking. So yeah, I understood my dad's entry perfectly. I do the same thing all the time.

Anyway, my dad recently wrote a book on the House Church, this thing he's into. And honestly? I jive with it a lot. Maybe not completely - there's some old-school Korean mentality there that I don't think translates well to my generation in the U.S. But in terms of the main points, those being the problems with the traditional church, and how church should be, I completely resonate with it. Which just shows again that, like it or not, I think a lot like my dad. His thought processes brought him to those conclusions, and since I think so similarly, I resonate with it as well.

So yeah, if you want to know how I think church should be, in terms of priorities, mission, and how it should be structured practically to accomplish that, read his book.

I Hate California Politics

I'm not totally sure how it happened, but I care too much about politics now. Don't talk to me about politics in person - I may get too heated about it. Online, in writing, it's easier to let things go, not have the last word. It's a little more tense in person.

I think what happened is I started to realize that policy matters. Tens of thousands of people die unnecessarily every year in this country because of health care policy. It has caused specific issues for immediate members of my family. CA roads suck because of policy (did you know plans for fixing the 101-152 interchange have been ongoing for 20 years?). If I stay in California, my children will likely be in crowded, underfunded classrooms. Policy matters. And so I care. All it does, though, is raise my blood pressure, because I can't change policy, and I've found that I can never convince anyone about anything either. Everyone's made up their minds. So it's just an exercise in frustration.

California politics in particular frustrates me to no end. I don't think people realize how dire our state's condition is. There's a non-trivial chance that California will go bankrupt in the next few years. I would actually call it likely. And the consequences of that are pretty grim. Everything that sucks about California will get worse, and be more expensive to boot, since it will cost the state more to borrow. In all honesty, one of the reasons I haven't bought a house is because I'm not sure I want to stick around here long-term. It's that bad. That's why I keep saying I'm going to move to Portland.

Everyone is to blame. The unions (whom I generally dislike) have forced the state into long-term pension promises that are completely unsustainable. These alone would force the state into bankruptcy someday, just as they did with, e.g. Bethlehem Steel and GM. State Republicans' refusal to ever raise taxes has hastened the rate at which state services have declined, and it's only going to get worse. Meg Whitman is a Republican candidate for governor, and she promises to slash taxes. Umm. The state faces massive budget shortfalls; reducing revenue will help address this how? Even Reagan, who cut taxes in 1981, raised taxes by hundreds of millions of dollars 4 separate times when faced with reduced revenues, in 1982, 1983, 1984 and 1986. I actually hope we get another Republican governor - it will almost certainly bring about the inevitable state bankruptcy sooner.

And worst of all are the state voters. The problem with voters is that they are, collectively, stupid. And the state grants them too much power through all the voter initiatives and propositions. I'm not saying that politicians can't be dumb. They may also be corrupt. But you can vote a dumb or corrupt politician out of office. You can't vote out the electorate. So granting them so much policy power virtually guarantees a terrible result. I'd say empirically, that's what we've seen.

When I say dumb, I mean that voters consistently vote for both more services and lower taxes. These are, of course, completely at odds. But look at the pattern of passed propositions and that's contributed a lot to this mess. For example, many propositions have been passed that force the state to give a certain percentage to a certain cause. For example, Proposition 98 requires the state to spend a certain percentage on education. (It was, incidentally, a response to the deleterious effects of Prop 13 - a bad proposition following another bad one.) Sounds good, right? Who isn't for education? But it, like other similar propositions, don't say where this funding should come from. So our state law is littered with spending requirements, but no explicit funding sources. That's why, in this interactive budget balancer I posted a while back, nearly every budget cut is listed as being possibly illegal. Required spending with no sources of funding is a recipe for disaster, and that's what happens when you give policy-making power to voters.

This is just one example of the fundamental problem with politics in California: many things that are good and work well in politics are reversed in California. It's good (or at least better) for professional legislators to write policy and voters to hold them accountable. In California, legislators actively ask voters to make policy. And it doesn't work.

Proposition 8, the initiative to constitutionally ban gay marriage, is another example. To me, it doesn't matter what side you're on; that this was decided by vote is the reverse of how it should have proceeded. The beauty of the U.S. federal system of checks and balances is that the legislative body makes policy decisions based on majority rule, as a democracy should, but you have an independent judicial body that protects rights, guaranteeing that the majority can't just trample over the rights of the minority. Legislation should proceed by majority rule, the judiciary should settle matters of rights. Prop 8 turned that on its head, settling an issue of rights by majority rule. I don't know how the current court case will pan out, but the courts is where matters like these should be settled.

Another example: as I stated, in a democracy, when it comes to decisions, the majority should rule. It's only fair. In California, to a large degree, the reverse happens - the minority holds the majority hostage. This is largely due to Proposition 13, which required all tax increases in the state to be passed by a 67% margin in the legislature. That's an absurdly high threshold for a simple tax increase. Effectively, that means state Republicans, the minority party, can hold the budget hostage, and they do every single year. I get and respect that they're against taxes. But others, in fact, most Californians, don't share their stance, and this not being an issue of rights, the most fair thing is for the majority to have their way, even if you think it's stupid. It's simply the most fair system. And this doesn't happen in California. I'm sure Republicans are happy about it, but there's no way you can defend their power over the budget as democratically fair. The 67% threshold is even more galling when you consider that Proposition 13 itself didn't pass by 67%. Practically, it gives minority unfair power over the majority.

Another example: gerrymandering. The principle of a representative democracy is that voters choose their leaders. In California, it's reversed. Gerrymandering is a problem all over the country, but because the state legislature sets voting districts, California legislators effectively choose their voters, guaranteeing non-competitive districts that are each majority Republican or Democrat. This map shows California districts; some are ridiculous, in particular districts 23, 38 and 46. There may be no ideal solution to this problem, but almost any reasonable solution is better, and if given the choice between the status quo and something better, we should choose what's better.

There are other examples where California does he reverse of what works best, but you get the point. The state is completely screwed up. And it's largely the result of a bad political system. Which sucks. And I see no solution to it. Which is why we're probably going to move someday. To Portland.

Actually, I do think there's a solution, but it will never happen. Regardless, here's how I think we can fix the state:

• Cancel all state pensions. This will never happen, even if we go bankrupt. But pensions are financially unsustainable - to promise to pay someone after they retire as long as they live just doesn't work. The numbers are dire for CALPERS (the state pension fund), as its solvency is based on growth projections that are wildly implausible. Pensions are all but dead in the private sector; they shouldn't exist in the public sector either. If unions insist on having them, the state should just give a lump sum to the unions themselves, so the total cost is known, and force the unions to manage pension funds themselves with the explicit agreement that the state isn't on the hook if they go under.
• Limit voter initiatives and propositions. Because voters are dumb.
• Repeal Proposition 13. Another impossibility; Prop 13 is known as the 3rd rail of California politics. At the very least, we should eliminate the 67% voting threshold (for democratic fairness and to reduce legislative gridlock) and exclude commercial property from Prop 13. Prop 13 limits property tax increases to 2% a year unless property is sold or developed. I think it's largely unfair, but what's worse is that it includes commercial property. That gives commercial property owners a perverse incentive to not sell or improve under-performing commercial property. I can understand the desire for people to not lose their homes due to escalating property tax bills they can't afford. But under-performing business should fail and be replaced by better ones. It's the free-market principle of efficiently allocating capital. Excluding commercial property from Prop 13 will simultaneously raise tax revenue and more efficiently allocate commercial land. We should do it.
• Redistrict using an independent body. Really, have anyone but the legislature in charge of it. Even if it's not perfect, it is better than the system we have. And more competitive districts will lead to more moderate candidates that should be more willing to work together.
• Eliminate the bicameral legislature. There's virtually no benefit to having a Senate and Assembly over having a single body, and it just adds gridlock to the process. Gridlock costs money. I hate wasting money.
• Eliminate L.A.. Really, would anyone mind? Can you think of anything good that has come out of L.A? Besides Whitney High and maybe The Getty. They don't even have an NFL team. Useless land. Eliminate.

Work Work

I agree with every single commenter - I do think we can find fulfillment in work. But like I hinted last time, I think a lot of us have it reversed. We're looking for work that makes us feel most fulfilled; in reality, as Christians, we bring fulfillment to work by redeeming it. We're not supposed to find work that's fulfilling, we're supposed to bring fulfillment to our work.

I'm basing a lot of this on a truly fantastic Tim Keller has sermon on work (extra fantastic because it's one of the few sermons of his that are free) that I jived with a lot.

I see several problems with the assumption (and Leo may be right - this might be more a reflection of the circles I'm in than being common thought) that we're supposed to find work that's personally fulfilling. For one thing, it makes our attitude towards work primarily about what it does for us. That might seem the natural way to think of work. But that's not the Biblical model. Keller sums that up in his first practical guideline in finding good work: how much it helps other people. The focus in finding and doing work should be on helping others, not benefiting ourselves. I think that gets lost because so many of us think of work as something that's supposed to be personally fulfilling.

I actually feel like I even see this reversed mentality in churches. Sometimes people approach offices and roles with the best intentions, but thinking about what it will do for their personal growth, rather than focusing on how they can serve. I don't think there's any willfully ill intent. It's just a reflection of how we've come to see jobs - vocational and otherwise - as being primarily about what we get from it or how we grow from it. And that's not quite right.

Which isn't to say that we shouldn't look for jobs that we jive with. That's actually Keller's second practical guideline in choosing a job. However, he recognizes that that's an ideal, and not always possible, and that the first practical principle - serving others - takes precedence. Furthermore, no matter what job you have, you can find a way to apply the first practical principle, to serve others. And that's (partly) how we find fulfillment in work.

I also think he has a lot of insight as to why it's bad when work is where we try to get fulfillment (as opposed to bringing fulfillment to it). He warns against finding our identity in work, because then work either becomes too important in our lives or too unimportant. When it becomes too important, we burn out. On the other extreme, if we can't handle it, we just don't care and it becomes too unimportant, and it work just becomes a paycheck. I feel like I see this in my peers a lot, even in myself to some degree. Gyrating from being too into work and burning out, and not caring at all, being cynical, and looking for the next thing.

The greatest irony that Keller points out is that as long as we try to find personal fulfillment in work, we won't get fulfillment. It's only when we make work about God, about others, and about the work itself that we can find fulfillment.

I'm not doing justice to his sermon at all, so definitely listen. It's helped me frame a lot of my thinking in regards to work. I feel sad that so many of my peers seem to be unsatisfied with their work and are looking for the right job for them. It's good and right to look. But as long as we make work about finding personal fulfillment, we'll never get it.

Work

I've been thinking about work a lot lately. In the abstract, not my current job specifically.

I was chatting with a friend who recently had a kid. They've been having a hard time (par for the course) and was asking me when it gets easier. I told him my experience - right when you think you can't take it anymore, it gets better. His response: we reached that point 2 weeks ago. I think their child was 3 weeks old at the time. That killed me.

He also mentioned how their experience made them take the curse of Genesis 3, the one that made women experience pain in childbirth a lot more seriously. True that.

Here's my question though - how come we don't take another curse in Genesis 3, the curse related to the man, as seriously? Namely, "Cursed is the ground because of you; through painful toil you will eat of it all the days of your life." Because it seems like we don't take that seriously. It seems like people commonly think that we're supposed to find jobs that are personally fulfilling. If we're not fulfilled in our jobs, we assume we should be in different jobs. But does that jive with Genesis 3?

There are several consequences listed in Genesis 3. Man will die. We take that seriously. The serpent is cursed, there will be enmity between it and the offspring of the woman, foreshadowing Christ. We take that seriously. Women will experience pain in childbirth. We take that seriously.

So how come we don't take the consequence that the ground is cursed seriously? That work is supposed to be, in some measure, hard? I was randomly reading a John MacArthur sermon on this and he explains that the curse of Genesis 3 is on man's realm, his work. The words used literally mean miserable. Work, man's domain, will be hard, says Genesis 3.

But that's not what people seem to think, even Christians. They seem to think work is supposed to be inherently fulfilling, and if it's not, it's just the wrong job for you. Why?

I actually have some thoughts on this, a lot of it based on a great Tim Keller sermon I found, and I think we have our thinking on work reversed. But I'll write about that later.

Baylight Worship Stats 2009

This will be of interest to almost no one, but I was curious, and since I'm a nerd, and because OpenSong uses XML, I wrote a Python script to figure out how many times we sang different worship songs at Baylight in 2009. It's not perfectly accurate - it reflects how many times a song was included as a slide, not whether it was actually sung, but it's a fair reflection. I was kind of surprised.

8 times:

• Beautiful
• Reign In Us

7 times:

• Let Your Mercy Rain
• Yours Alone

6 times:

• Everlasting God
• From the Inside Out
• Give Us Clean Hands
• Here I Am to Worship (Light of the World)
• Hosanna (Fraser)
• You Are Glorious

5 times:

• Beautiful Savior
• Blessed Be Your Name
• Cry In My Heart
• Hosanna (Baloche)
• How Great Is Our God
• King of Glory
• We Are Hungry

4 times:

• Beautiful One
• Cannons
• Filled With Your Glory
• Happy Day
• Here Is Our King
• Hungry
• Lay It Down
• Let My Words Be Few
• Mighty to Save
• Not to Us
• Son of God
• Sweetly Broken
• Unashamed
• Your Grace Is Enough

3 times:

• Come and Fill Me Up
• He Is God
• I Will Rise
• Jesus Messiah
• My Hope is Built (On Christ the Solid Rock)
• O Praise Him
• Song of Hope (Heaven Come Down)
• Surrender
• Take My Life
• The Heart of Worship
• Unfailing Love

2 times:

• All I Have to Give
• Breathe
• Consuming Fire
• Dance
• Draw Me Close
• Enough
• Every Move I Make
• Fall Down On Me
• Glory In the Highest
• God of Wonders
• Jesus Lord of Heaven
• Jesus You Alone
• Jesus You Are Worthy
• Let Everything That Has Breath
• Once Again
• Open The Eyes Of My Heart
• Silent Night
• Sing, Sing, Sing
• The Hand that Holds the World
• The Solid Rock
• The Wonderful Cross
• Till I See You
• You Are My King (Amazing Love)

1 time:

• Above All
• All the Way My Savior Leads Me
• Angels We Have Heard On High
• Be Thou My Vision
• Be the Center
• Better is One Day
• Come Now Is The Time To Worship
• Come Thou Fount
• Deep Down In My Heart
• Forever
• Great Is Thy Faithfulness
• Hark the Herald Angels Sing
• Holy
• Holy Holy Holy
• Holy Is the Lord
• I Could Sing of Your Love Forever
• In the Secret
• Indescribable
• Jesus Saves
• Jesus We Enthrone You
• Jesus' Generation
• Joy to the World
• Kindness
• Lord I Give You My Heart
• Lord Reign In Me
• Lord, Let Your Glory Fall
• Making Melodies
• Meet With Me
• Near The Cross
• Nothing But The Blood
• O Come All Ye Faithful
• Oh, Happiness
• Over My Head
• Pour Out My Heart
• Prince Of Peace
• Remembrance (Communion Song)
• Salvation Come
• See the Nations Praise
• This Is Our God
• To You
• Trading My Sorrows
• We Shine
• What Child Is This
• Wonderful King

Favorites

This evening, as I was putting Abby to bed, we had this exchange. For context, we just got Abby a larger bed, but didn't have time to assemble it today, so it's sitting in the garage. She was asking about her current toddler bed.

Abby: How will you take it [out of the room]?

Me: I'll just carry it out and put it in the garage.

Abby, after thinking for a bit: God is biggest, so maybe you can ask Him to carry it.

That killed me.

I think Abby is my favorite again. Yes, I'm acknowledging that I have a favorite. But it changes. That's why I'm fine saying it. I love both my children deeply, and the favorite thing isn't a permanent status. I think it's fine.

In fact, I don't see how it's possible not to. How is it possible? I grill parents all the time about their favorites. Some straight up admit that they have one. Actually, one friend of mine, both he, his siblings and his parents all straight up say how he is the favorite. I love that because it's so honest. That's the only example of a permanent favorite I know - the others that admit they have a favorite are like me; they say it changes.

Other parents say they love their kids exactly equally. I don't buy it. That just seems inhuman. More believably, other parents say that they love their children differently, and thus it's hard to compare it quantitatively.

I'm actually closer to that. I do love my kids differently. It's pretty much impossible to love a toddler in the same way as a 3-year-old. The favorite thing is really which quality I happen to jive with at the moment. Kind of like choosing between Chicago-style and New York-style pizza. Love both, just depends on the mood.

But yeah, I've been jiving a lot with Abby lately. It was Joshua for a while, and I told people that, and I they facetiously commented that I didn't love Abby, which is deeply untrue, but yeah. Just, talking with her now is just consistently entertaining. It's a lot of fun.

Sickness Unto Death

Rough week for the Chai family. Everyone got sick. Lots of vomiting and diarrhea all around. Even now still suffering from mild gas and indigestion issues.

It takes sickness to appreciate the wellness though; without getting sick, we would take being well for granted. My favorite work by St. Augustine is On Free Choice Of The Will, because it deals with fascinating stuff, is organized as a Socratic dialog (my favorite philosophical structure), and is short. In the dialog, someone asks the question asked frequently since time immemorial until now: if God created us and made us the way we are, how can we be punished for the bad we do? Isn't it ultimately God's fault that we are the way we are, including the bad?

As part of the response, Augustine replies that if God didn't punish us for the bad we do, how could he reward us for the good we do? It actually doesn't answer the question at all, but it points out an inconsistency in the way people commonly think - while we don't think it's fair to be punished for being bad since God made us that way, we nevertheless do think we deserve to be rewarded. Put another way, many people have problems with the idea that a creator God would send some people to Hell. Few (if any) have a problem with the idea that a creator God would send people to heaven. Which, if you think about it, is logically inconsistent.

That's completely irrelevant to what I was talking about. Anyway, yeah, sickness. Joshua started off on Monday by vomiting 3 times (first and last time in the crib, which is disgusting). He had diarrhea the rest of the week. Jieun woke up sick and vomiting on Tuesday, so I got the kids ready, did breakfast, and took Joshua with me to drive Abby to preschool. Stayed home to take care of Joshua (and Jieun). Got a call from preschool that Abby threw up. Went to get her with Joshua, brought her home, worried the whole time that she was going to throw up in the car, but she refused to hold a bucket or bag. I was right to be worried - she started making gagging noises during the drive so I hastily parked on the side of the road, ripped her out of her seat just in time, and held her while she threw up on the road (apologies, road by TGI Fridays on Wolfe).

Spent the rest of the day trying to prevent Abby from throwing up on stuff in the house (to varying degrees of success - she kept insisting that she wasn't going to throw up and resisted my efforts to take her to the bathroom or hold anything up to her mouth, right up to the moment that she threw up, 7 times total), trying to watch Joshua, and trying to let Jieun rest in the midst of her own 7 bouts of vomit (also to varying degrees of success - she sadly had to help with the kids while violently ill). Ah parenthood.

Fortunately, the vomiting only lasted a day. And I didn't throw up myself. I did get explosive diarrhea the next day, but I'm half convinced that I wasn't sick, but that I gave it to myself. I mean, the whole family had been throwing up constantly - I spent the next day filled with extreme dread, just waiting for the hammer to fall. I think it was that tightness that gave me the runs, not a virus.

Good times.

Anyway, if you see Jieun, give her a little extra love, because this mostly happened on her birthday, so we didn't really get to celebrate. Plus it sucks being that sick on your birthday.

Great Blog

I hope she doesn't mind me publicizing this, but I highly highly recommend my first cousin once removed's blog. I find it incredibly challenging and encouraging. Every entry is pretty amazing.

I obviously can't relate to being the parent of a special needs child. I kind of feel like she experiences parenthood in the extreme. Little parenthood things I feel like I struggle with, I feel a little sheepish about, knowing that others experience it to the extreme. And insights she has, I feel like I have a tiny bit to relate to on a smaller level as well. Anyway, worth reading.

David Crowder Q&A, including why this season of Lost may suck

David Crowder posted a long Q&A on his blog. As you probably know, I'm a huge David Crowder fanboy. Love his music, love how thoughtful he is. The other thing I love is that he's a little odd. Not that I always resonate with - based on YouTube videos, I frankly find his concert manner, even his writing, a little annoying. But normal is boring, and that he's not, well I like that. That Jieun is quirky is honestly one of the big reasons I married her. (To those who didn't know her quirkiness in college, you missed out.)

Anyway, he says some interesting things in it (along with some boring things). One completely accurate observation he makes is about Lost, and J.J. Abrams in general:

i don’t watch lost, and here is why: j. j. abrams can’t be trusted. yeah, i know what you’ll say, you’ll say, “but lost is awesome. if it ended today, i’d be happy.” you would speak naively! this would mean you have lived your life thus far spared by the devastation mr abrams leaves in his wake. but chances are great that soon you will feel the pain completely that i allude to. he lulls you in supremely and then crushes you with his farcical conclusions. sure, he creates a complex and compelling story layered with subtext and subtlety and interwoven storylines and you swallow whole and then comes the climax and denouement and you will say aloud, “no! this is ridiculous!! you’re ruining everything! how could you do this to me? do you hate me? mr. abrams, you are an evil, evil man.” and there is history supporting this! felicity! alias!!! go look at the message boards. bet you didn’t know that the last season of alias involved vampirezombie things and large red floating spheres. well, it did! and so i swore, “no more mr abrams, no more! never again will i fall for your savage malevolent brutality.”

Dude, that's totally true. Everyone (including me) is excited about the last season of Lost, but man, guy's got a mixed track record. The last season of Alias was easily the worst final season of a great TV show in history. I loved that show, and the last season left me angry. Red floating spheres. Zombies. And the last episode... man, I'm getting angry just thinking about it. So yeah, he reminded me that I should probably temper my expectations with this season of Lost. There's a not insignificant chance that it will totally suck.

He also mentions that the tracks in Church Music each correspond to what they view as a significant stage in church music history arranged in chronological order (spanning from the first track, "Phos Hilaron," the oldest known hymn outside of the Bible, to "In The End"). I had not realized that. Along with the whole album playing uninterrupted. Seriously brilliant.

Also like that he reads Chuck Klosterman. Man after my own heart.

And he also says that his favorite worship album is "I Bow Down" from Vineyard's Touching The Father's Heart. I also find that fascinating. That was a good album.

His thoughts on theologically rich worship songs are also interesting, and I think very true.

Do you think there will soon be a resurgence of new, deeply theological worship songs (i.e. hymns)? I’m dying for more truth and less feeling.

Kevin. yes. i think it may be helpful to you to realize that it is less the fault of those creating the music and more the fault of the container that they are attempting to use, which is the modern pop song. our previous container, the hymn, was based on a genre of literature, poetry, which was fantastic at carrying philosophical and theological ideas. a song (hymn) would spend years looking for the proper musical setting because the lyric or content was the most important element. pop music is not content based, it is melody based. so, those who excel in the writing of modern congregational song are those who excel at melody rather than those who excel in the composition of theologically rich ideas in repetitive metrical form. and you’re also talking about an era where the poetry section in a bookstore can hardly be found, when in the past it was one of the more competitive genres. so, gifted writers are less inclined to hone their poetic inclinations. all of that said, there are many within progressive church settings that share your frustration, the solution of which seems to be an attempt at collaborative efforts and the building of bridges between high church and low church traditions. and this is exciting to me.

He's a thoughtful guy. Big fan.

Marriage and Ethics

I remember a while back reading some Ethics column in the Merc (back when it still had a weekly Religion and Ethics section - kind of hard to believe now), and the question was about some person whose spouse was physically disabled and unable to engage in sexual activity. The person asked if they were ethically bound to be faithful to their spouse.

The column (coming from a secular, probably humanistic perspective) argued that sex is fundamental to marriage, so that if one's spouse is unable to fulfill sexual duties, one is no longer bound to that marriage.

I remember at the time being enraged by that, because the answer struck me as the opposite of moral, in fact resolutely immoral, and worse because it masqueraded itself as ethical. But I read something recently and now I've been rethinking my outrage.

I've heard and read a number of sermons / writings about the Christian view of marriage, and I feel like they always dance around one of the most direct Scriptural discussions of why you should get married. They always talk about being partners in ministry, and about mirroring Christ and the church, other stuff like that, which are indeed all valid. But the Scripture passage that most directly addresses whether to get married or not is 1 Corinthians 7, and in it, Paul straight up says, if you can handle your passion, it's better not to get married; if you can't, then do it. It's obviously not the only purpose for marriage, but marriage is clearly supposed to be the proper outlet for sex. If you can't handle your desire, get married.

If that's Scripturally true, and I don't know how else you can read 1 Cor. 7, what then of the married believer whose spouse can't perform sexually? If marriage is supposed to be the proper outlet for sex, if indeed Paul says it's a reason to get married, what happens when that's no longer possible in the marriage? The believer, in getting married, has implicitly acknowledged that they don't have the gift of celibacy. So what is the proper outlet for them? Are they supposed to control themselves? But doesn't Scripture state marriage is for those who basically can't control themselves?

I just don't know the right answer. I still lean towards them being faithful, because that seems right, especially since marriage is a covenant until death. But I do think it's complicated. In particular, I don't know what the proper outlet for the weak individual is supposed to be anymore.

The older I get, the more I realize that things are more complicated than I previously thought. It's not that there aren't right answers, it's just that things are complex.

Privacy

I'm going to start clamping down on my notes privacy so that I don't spam newsfeeds for people who don't care. Holler at me if you do care. I'm guessing most people don't.

Parenthood and Purpose

Abby's language amazes me. It seems like she gets better at talking every day. I especially like her experimentation with modifiers. Recently she came across a bracelet that wasn't hers and said "This might totally be Nessa's." She also strings a lot together; we went to the park recently and she informed me that we're going to "magical wonderful fairy princess land." Later, "princess musical land."

I love my kids dearly, but I'm not a natural parent. I think I say that a lot. But it's true. One indication of that to me is that I feel a slight sense of dread and depression when I'm watching them. And the source of that is a feeling that when I'm with the kids, we're just trying to fill up time, make the time go by. I don't feel a strong sense of purpose. Without vision, the people perish. Without purpose, I invariably get a little bit depressed. And I don't feel purpose in watching the kids.

I think it was the worst in New Jersey. My sole job, my sole purpose, was to watch the kids. And it felt like all I was doing was trying to make the hours go by without them starving or getting hurt. Finding something to do, trying to fill up the time and make the day end. And that's completely depressing to me. Maybe the problem is that I sometimes feel like kids prevent me from doing what I want to do, or more nobly, what I'm supposed to do. That they take me away from other things that give me purpose.

I can't imagine that's how natural parents feel. I think they suck the marrow out of their time with the kids, find purpose and meaning in spending time with them and raising them right. For some reason, I just can't feel that. I deeply enjoy my time with the kids, and I try to raise them right, but nevertheless, I just don't have that feeling of purpose. A lot of the time I'm with them, it still just feels like we're trying to make the time go by. Passing the time until they go down. I like to do activities on the weekends because it makes the time go faster. And that feels empty to me. The feeling that we're just trying to divert our attentions until we die.

To be honest, I think a lot of the world lives that way. Distracting themselves so they don't have to think about how purposeless and empty they are until they die. But those distractions just aren't enough for me. For whatever reason, purpose is vitally important to me; it always has been. Without it, I feel down. And I don't know why, but I can't find it in simply raising my kids. Some days I'm excited to go to work instead of being at home. I think a lot of parents resonate with that, and they have different reasons - just being able to get out, to do your own thing, or whatever. Jieun channeled William Wallace's "FREEDOM" when she started tutoring again for reasons like that. But for me, it's because work provides some small sense of purpose, one that I don't get at home. Purpose is that important to me.

Don't misunderstand me - I don't think I'm a bad parent. I just don't think I'm a natural one.

The bigger problem is that I haven't felt a strong sense of purpose in anything for a while now, but that's a different entry.

Tom Ford and Women's Fashion

I listened to an interview with Tom Ford and it was far more interesting than I expected. He made a comment about women's fashion that was really thought provoking, noting how much the idealized women's form reflects the design sensibilities of the times.

The 50s were all sharp lines, in the cars, in the architecture; and this was reflected in women. Like, they had conical bras, which seem ridiculous now. The 70s sense was all about softness, and that was also reflected in women, who ditched their bras. In his estimation, today is all about being inflated. Cars today look like someone puffed them up with air. Similarly, the ideal female form is all about puffed lips, inflated breasts. He doesn't know why the feelings of the times are so reflected in women's fashion, but he thinks it's interesting, and I kind of do also. I care almost zero about fashion, and thus never thought about it, but if design reflects the mood of a society, and women's fashion and form acutely reflects design, maybe women's fashion says a whole lot about society. And maybe this is obvious, but I'd never thought about how deep that link might be until today.

I read a ton so I feel like I have a little knowledge about almost everything, but the one area in which I'm completely lacking is in my visual sense. I care nothing about fashion. I know nearly nothing about art. My knowledge of architecture comes solely from the Chicago Architecture River Tour and a Frank Lloyd Wright address book my mom had. I'm a horrible photographer. I care very much about sound, about taste and smell, even touch. But for some reason visual things just don't matter as much to me.

I've thought about taking an art history class to close this gaping hole in my knowledge. But eh, who cares.

Public Speaking

I'm one of the worst public speakers I know. I dare say the very worst.

I don't understand this about myself. It's not that I don't know how to communicate. I'm fine one on one. And I think I write fairly lucidly, so I don't think it's just that I can't put things into words. And I'm fine in front of crowds for other things. Like, I don't think I ever get nervous leading worship. I've done the praise night thing or whatever in front of hundreds of people, and no big deal. So it's not the crowds that bother me either; I have no problem playing in front of a crowd.

But as soon as I have to talk in front of a crowd, it gets ugly. My face gets flushed, I get all nervous, my voice gets tight, and I get on the verge of tears. And I'm using "crowd" very loosely. Like, more than 6 people. Happens at work all the time, in larger meetings. Happens sometimes at church when I decide to say something while leading. Even happens once in a while during small group, with fewer than a dozen people there, people I know fairly well. It's obviously some sort of mental/emotional block, and it's awful. I've strongly considered doing Toastmasters or something to get over it.

It happened again to me last week; Josh Kw@n invited me to this random meeting with these amazing Christians who are all involved with online efforts to further the Kingdom. Some heavyweights; all amazing people. I have no idea why he wanted me there.

The meeting started off with everyone introducing themselves and saying something most people don't know about you. Both questions stressed me out, because I had no good reason to be there, and there's nothing interesting I could say for the second question. I ended up saying I've never seen a complete episode of Friends or American Idol. A terrible answer for a couple reasons. One, I'm not completely sure it's true, although it might be. But I also think I misjudged my audience. They were some hard-core Christians, and based on their response to what I said, I think most of them haven't ever watched these shows either. Some of them might never have even heard of them. Whoops.

I made it through the rest of the night without saying anything, until the very end, when the moderator directly called on me, and I stuttered through an answer, nearly crying as usual. Man. It was particularly severe because I was intimidated by the heavyweights in the room (e.g. D@ve Gibb0ns. Seriously, no idea why I was there). I spent the rest of the evening regretting both things I said. I need to write an email to address the second, but I can't address the first, and it's still bothering me so much that I'm going to do a do-over here. So an interesting thing about me is:

The glasses I'm wearing right now are chipped, the result of a chess accident. I was playing a version of team chess, and my team won. In celebration, we attempted a high-five, but missed, and my partner ended up knocking my glasses to the ground, where one lens got chipped. Breaking my glasses due to chess - about the nerdiest mishap I can imagine, and it happened to me. 100% true story.

Incidentally, Josh has the best job ever. He basically finds Christian causes to give money to and networks organizations to work together. And he works for David We3kley. Based on the good stuff he's doing, I urge Houstonians to feel good about buying / owning a David We3kley Home.

D@vid Cr0wder on the Future of Church Music

While at Henry's place, I saw this promotional magazine D@avid Cr0wder Band put out along with their newest album, called "Church Music M@gazine". (Kind of seemed to be a parody of the old CCM Magazine). It had lyrics, song notes, other promotional stuff. It also included the text of a talk DC gave on worship. Honestly, this talk might be the most interesting and influential article on worship that I have ever read. It's about the future of church music, but I don't think it's a stretch to say that his conclusions apply to the church as a whole as well.

His main point is that throughout the history of church music, there has been a repeated cycle of chaos, a desire for control and order in response, and then capitulation. For centuries, Christians sang in unison. When harmony broke out, it was initially considered evil. It was even banned by the Pope. But in time, it was accepted, and objections to it seem silly now. And the pattern keeps repeating itself throughout history. I feel like I've seen this cycle happening even in my lifetime. I can't remember exactly where, but at some conference I went to during youth group, the host (Bill Gothard?) insisted that singing songs in minor keys and using drums in worship were demonic. He even had theological reasons for his arguments (something about the emotions of minor keys and how the tribal rhythm roots of drums were Satanic). But in general, the church has basically ignored these arguments. Chaos, desire for control, capitulation.

Based on this, he assesses which stage church music is in right now (order) and where he thinks we're headed (exploring the chaos).

His talk is fascinating because it gives a historical and philosophical groundwork for where he's coming from and what he's trying to do, and now it makes complete sense to me why he would call his latest album Church Music, when I initially thought that the songs on it are completely unsingable in a church setting. He's exploring the chaos, the limitlessness, which has always been done in church history, and which he feels must be done to approach God.

I also resonate with his talk a lot because I feel like it gives a similar grounding to where I am worship music-wise. As you may or may not know, worship music is vitally important to me. And recently, I've been really interested in pushing the boundaries. Trying to do different things musically. Trying to get the congregation to try different things. I couldn't elucidate exactly why I was doing that; it just felt right. I feel like DC's talk explains and justifies what I've already been feeling.

I scoured the web to try and find ways to purchase this magazine but found none, and I think the talk is important enough that I'm violating possible copyright laws to post it. Here's a link to the pdf; also including the text of the talk (pictures) below. Again, the most interesting talk on worship I have ever read. If you have any interest in worship, music, mathematics, philosophy, or the church, you must read it.

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Good Sound vs. Bad Sound
Order vs. Chaos
Limited vs. Limitless

In the very recent past, Dave gave a talk at a small conference in Austin, Texas called, "Q." The title of the talk was - The Future of Worship. Dave doesn't have the faintest idea what the future of worship is, and this was basically his talk, how he really had no idea, well, with the exception of a few things, of which he was absolutely certain. Now you must understand that Dave doesn't like to talk out loud into microphones; he does not fancy himself an orator by any stretch of the imagination or creative use of the word. His reasoning is as follows: "My mouth tends to work faster than my head, which means, when I start talking, I'm hearing most of the stuff for the first time along with everyone else." This is a quality unsought after in the art of public speaking. Regardless, what follows is an excerpt of this reluctant talk with small interjections from the orator (Dave) who is in fact now requesting that he be allowed to interject explaining that, by, "excerpt" we intend to mean - what follows is pretty much word for word what he said. [Yeah it's word for word what I said, I think.]

Right, like we said, this will pretty much be word for word, but, to set the moment up properly - there were five individuals presenting that afternoon, all of which were sitting on stage together, listening attentively while the others delivered their talk. The individuals who presented prior to Dave were as follows - an astrophysicist, a neurologist, and the founder of Tom's shoes. This is funny to us. They each had 18 minutes allotted for their presentation. A large digital clock faced them from the front of the stage counting down from 18 to 0. An equally large clock faced the audience, it counting down as well, which added to the drama and heightened the nervousness for everyone. Again, knowing Dave, we find this funny. [It was not funny.]

It begins:

"So, I've been thinking about this: Is there such a thing as good sound? Is there such a thing as bad sound? Or, is there just true sound - an authentic expression of our condition.

And, along with this - Order and Chaos, or, The Limited and The Limitless.

[Of course I didn't start the talk like this. No, I started with some self-deprecating humor that was specific to the moment. This humor, although timely and highly effective in its provocation of laughter, would be out of place and utter nonsense here so I asked if we could cut it out. We did. Most of it was silly rambling anyway; I was nervous. Really, really nervous.]

"OK. Let's start with something we're all familiar with - a triangle. Actually, to be more precise - a right triangle. [At this point I drew a triangle on an overhead projector. I chuckled because I was using an overhead projector.] Use your imagination. [I said this, the use your imagination part, because it looked like the following:

The reason it looked like this was because my hand was shaking when I drew it due to the unreasonable nervousness. There was laughter acknowledging the poorly drawn triangle] OK. Now, the length of one side of the right triangle is, let's say, 3. [I knew it was going to be 3, but I said it as if it were just off the top of my head.] The length of the other side is, uh, 4. [Again, as if I am making things up as I go.] Which, of course, makes the length of the hypotenuse of this particular right triangle, what? [Immediately, "Five!" was yelled from multiple places in the theater.] Yes! That is correct, 5! And we know this because of the one piece of information that has stuck with us from our early education - the Pythagorean theorem. How this bit of information became lodged in our heads is mystifying and if we could figure out what they did to cause it to be permanently implanted there I'm confident we could solve the educational crisis in America. But yes, thank you, Pythagoras is with us for life. And of course we dare not leave out his little gang of creepy mathematician pals known as, the Pythagoreans. [The audience laughed here and I thought, "huh, I didn't think that was really funny. I concluded it must be due to the way I pronounced "Pythagoreans."]

Now, much conflicting information exists surrounding these guys. [I was going to say, "Pythagoreans," but I thought I better not since there was a good chance I was pronouncing it improperly, so, instead, I said, "guys." The audience was still sort of chuckling though.] Basically they were a pretty awesome math club with cult-like tendencies, you know, carving pentagrams on their persons, which seems weird and oddly intriguing, and sitting around in their secret lair, talking about their little math discoveries, telling you, "you, can't come in," because, you know, "you don't carve stuff on your person," and such, and I'm thinking, "sign me up," you know. [This was a big hit. They were amused. I was becoming less nervous but still pacing about the stage like a crazy man.]

So, this [I pointed to the squiggly right triangle on the overhead projector] is brought to us from this little math club, and it is mystical, almost. [I paused dramatically so the word "mystical" could hang around a little longer.] And it becomes even more profound when you draw the spatial representation of the theorem. So here is a square, and here is a square and here is a square. [I drew the following.]

The area of these two squares fits perfectly within the square on the hypotenuse. [I pointed to the square on the right triangle with the length of 3, then I pointed to the square on the right triangle that was on the line with the length of 4, and lastly, to the square on the hypotenuse with the length of 5.] And here's what's going on: The Pythagoreans, [I risked saying the word again, no one laughed] while sitting around worshipping their little math god, they believe that everything is numbered, that order can be pulled from the perceived chaos, that the seemingly limitless can be limited, that beauty can be explained in mathematical terms, that all of our experience in nature can be explained mathematically, and here it is right in front of us. [I said all of this really fast while tapping furiously on the overhead projector screen.] This [still tapping on the triangle] reaffirms their beliefs. And this is not something that they created. [I paused.] This is not something they can change. [Another pause] This just is. And it is beautiful. [When I said this last line, I felt it.]

The first natural law brought to us by mathematics also comes to us from Pythagoras and his math club. And it is connected to music. [I felt excited saying this.] Here's how it went down: So, these Pythagoreans [Again, no laughter] are cruising around and notice something - when some people play the lyre, which is a harp-like instrument that I'm sure most of us are vaguely familiar with, [When I say this, the part about the lyre, my hands are out in front of me and my fingers are moving as if I'm playing the harp-like instrument I have just announced] they [the Pythagoreans] note that it sounds pleasing, that it evokes a pleasant response; it is considered beautiful. When other people play the lyre, it is less than this. It is foul and evokes feelings of nausea etc. And they believed that they could mathematically explain this. They believed that everything is numbered and they would find the order beneath the chaos. [I actually paused here because the surety stunned me - to believe that beauty would have numeric equivalents.]

And so, to prove this, they built an experimental one stringed lyre. [I drew a one stringed lyre.] And so they plucked the string of the one stringed experimental lyre and established a primary tone. Then they divided the string into two equal portions and plucked one of these portions. [I drew a line, halving the one string of the lyre. Also, I was making plucking motions.] Something incredible happened. A perfect octave above the initial primary tone is sounded. This is mystical. [My voice went up in pitch due to excitement.] Suddenly, order from chaos. Suddenly, the limitless is limited. Suddenly, beauty is assigned a number - a ratio of 2:1. They divide the string again, [I drew again] into 3 equal sections. They pluck one of these sections. [I was talking faster.] A perfect fifth is sounded. Mystical! They divide the string again into 4 equal sections [I drew again] and pluck and a perfect 4th is sounded. Mystical. [Pause] Beautiful. [Pause] This reaffirms their belief that there is order beneath the perceived chaos. What they heard with their ears and perceived with their senses as beautiful had a mathematical explanation that was equally elegant. Again, this is not something that they have created. [Pause] This is not something they can change. [Pause] This just is. [Longer Pause] They can arrive at it intellectually and they can arrive at it through their senses - both through scientific experimentation and by hearing it. And order is brought from chaos, the limitless is limited, beauty is assigned a number. [I look at the clock. I know that by this point it should read 13 minutes. It does. I'm OK.]

OK. Let's now jump to some church history.

I want to look at music within the Christian church and point out the contention present in its development. [I'm wishing that I had more than 18 minutes so that this transition didn't feel so abrupt. I'm not sure what I would have said though. And then I thought maybe it was good that we just left Pythagoras hanging there for a little while. I knew we'd get back to him soon enough.] Now, we could look at all of scripture - there are many examples of music in the life of the Hebrew people, I mean we could even go back to the beginning and see that in scripture, the invention of the first musical instrument is attributed to a guy by the name of Jubal, [I looked at a number of different pronunciations for the this guy's name and landed on, "Joo-Ball," emphasis on, "Ball"] descendant of Cain, evil son of Adam and Eve. I'm just saying - it's the black arts we're discussing here. [Big laughs. Better than expected. I relax a little more. Still pacing.] But I would like to confine the conversation to the Christian church following the death and resurrection of Christ.

Paul is the first to address music in the church and he's pretty useless, right? [Another laugh due to a provocative, over the top statement.] He instructs us to, "encourage one another with spiritual songs." Well, thank you very much, Paul. Incredibly helpful. I mean, the question arises - Paul, what if these songs are discouraging rather than encouraging? Right? And I would think this question would surface fairly quickly, at least, if the early church were anything like mine. Paul again broaches the music thing in Colossians 3:16, but I'd rather jump to the first mention of music of the Christian church from someone outside of Christianity.

Pliny the Younger was a Roman statesman who wrote a number of letters that gave great insight into Roman life and law in the 1st and 2nd centuries. In one of these letters he is addressing the Emperor Trajen and he is attempting to describe these Christians, whom he is having some problems with, and with whom he has not had a lot of experience, and so, describing this group with which he is unfamiliar, he says, "they rise early before dawn, to sing songs to Christ as if to a god." This is really cool I think. Not the, "rising before dawn," but the, "singing songs to Christ as if to a god." [Big laughs. I suspect this is due to the implied, and played to, self-deprecating presupposition that musicians do not rise early in the morning.] It is significant because it is a thing that defines us. It is something observed and strange - We will sing to God and He will listen. This was an odd notion then; it is an equally bizarre notion now. [That is, if you can allow yourself a bit of objectivity to observe our presuppositions - there is a God; we may address Him; a fantastic way to do so is through music - from an outside perspective, we might conclude that, in history. fact, this is a bizarre line of thinking.] And I think this is significant and beautiful, this thing that sets us apart. [Again, I'm enlivened by the thought - that the thing that designated us as different, and outside of culture, was something as simple as a belief that we could sing to God.]

The next commentary I found, chronologically, is from Clement of Alexandria in his treatise, "The Instructor," which seems aptly named, given my impression of Clement's personality. In it, he is attempting to contrast the orgies of the heathen with the chaste celebrations of the Christians that he has observed, and in so doing, he wishes to call his readers to, "purity, restraint and nobility in singing, leaving the over-colorful melodies to the lascivious orgy throwers." And I would assume there is something he is addressing here - perhaps the fear of the chaotic's encroachment. And so, he encourages order. And here, early on, we already have a discussion of good sound, bad sound, what is appropriate, what is not appropriate. Apparently, over-colorful melodies are not appropriate.

Tertullian, in "The Apology," which also seems aptly named for our purposes here, responds in a way that seems to address Clement's concerns almost directly. He says, [translation, mine], "Hey, listen. There is only a modest amount of drinking going on in our gatherings." [I adopted a tone of satirical condescension.] As proof, he offers this - "When we gather, each individual comes to the center [I made motions indicating a group of people gathered on stage with me, and then made motions toward the center of the fictitious group indicating where the center was and that someone was now in that center] and sings an encouraging song, And this would not be possible, the singing of an encouraging song, if there were more than a modest amount of drinking." I think these statements illuminate Tertullian's generous view of modesty more than anything else. I mean it is surely generous enough for a good pub-crawl or a Dave Matthews concert. [Another provocative statement elicits another benevolent chuckle]

Jumping to St. Augustine, who is a guy who seems to struggle with emotion at times, sometimes embracing it, oftentimes distrustful of it, but he seems much more equal handed in, "Confessions," when he addresses some criticism being leveled at the Donatists, the North African church, who apparently were pretty rowdy when they got together. He is clever in his defense of offering critique as well, saying, "Yes, sure, they work themselves into a frenzied emotion and use the colloquial language with songs coming from writers within their churches with little concern for historical context," as opposed to his experience which was much more sober and restrained and refined. Yet he argues, "whenever we gather, is it not cause for song to erupt? As long as the deacon is not praying, or the pastor is not preaching." Which seems reasonable. And he is obviously arguing this because there is a call for restraint and order. [I was sort of stunned that the paradoxically sarcastic and generous tone of St. Augustine seemed to linger in the room with us at this point.]

Then polyphony arrives and oh my. We're having conversations; what's appropriate, what's not appropriate; what's good, what's bad; then polyphony arrives and it all breaks loose. We had been singing in unison for a long while now and then, suddenly, the world burst into harmony, like a coke commercial or something. And we said, "Wow. No sir. We will not participate. This is licentious and loose and chaotic and no, we will not participate." But eventually we capitulate. And by the time we get to singing thirds and fifths, the rest of the world has moved on to fourths and sixths. And we declare this to be licentious and loose and chaotic and declare that, no, we will not participate. But then we capitulate. And this pattern is repeated. The scale that we use in western music today was once decried as evil, containing the devil's interval, the dreaded tri-tone.

Polyphony was banned completely in 1324 A.D. by Pope John. We declared it licentious and loose and chaotic but then, of course, we capitulated and now you hear this, our Western chromatic scale, in JCPenny's and churches everywhere and it now seems silly, the fear we held. [I look at the clock. I wish I could talk more about this but it is relentless in its diminishment and so I press on.]

And so I think it is obvious - we can now point to a readily visible pattern. There is this move toward the limitless; [I made a motion with my hands that indicated movement toward something. For some reason, the way I was holding my hands seemed similar to holding a ball] and then, all of a sudden, this period of want for restraint and order, [I pulled the imaginary ball back to me] and then capitulation. [I pushed the fake ball forward again, as if it were being pulled from my hands.] A movement toward the limitless; a reaction of restraint and order, and then capitulation. [I repeated the whole imaginary ball thing again along with the verbiage for dramatic effect.] And so, I would like to draw the following conclusions. [I looked at the clock.]

First of all, here's what I think: I can predict with one hundred percent certainty [I shot a look to the host of the event who was sitting onstage with the other presenters as if to say, 'this is humorous, what I am about to do, this definitive statement that I am about to make.] The future of worship will be this - contentious. And I feel a large amount of pride in being able to predict with such accuracy, but yes, there is a large amount of contention ahead of us. [A snicker of sorts from the audience is audible.] One hundred percent, there will be contention.

The second thing I draw from what I've presented thus far, is I believe we are currently in a period of restraint and order. I say that, and I think, this may sound somewhat counter intuitive because of what causes me to be delivering this, whatever this is, ['Presentation' is the word I'm looking for] in that I am and have been a part of something that has become known as the modern worship movement. Here's what I think has happened in this, the modern worship movement - the Church has simply embraced pop music. Right? [This was a rhetorical question.] I mean, we've been in this era, and this is another reason why I would think order and restraint is the land where we currently reside, we've been in this era of great turmoil and shifting. Philosophically. Scientifically. Large paradigm shifts that many of us have been in constant conversation about - attempting to absorb and respond as people of faith. These shifts that are just massive, I mean the move from Newtonian physics to quantum physics, the undermining of ontological proof and certainty, these things have immediate and direct impact on our art and music and our ideas of beauty. And so I think it makes sense then, that we would want simplicity, that we would want order, that we would need something that feels foundational, that gives us a sense of certainty. I think that's what this embrace of pop music is.

Pop music is the lowest common denominator when it comes to art and music, to critique myself and what I participate in. I love pop music. You know, give me some Lil Wayne, I'm happy, you know. [Mr. Wayne just popped out. It must have been the subconscious knowing the mention of this deviant would be ludicrous provocative. Sure enough, much laughter was elicited.] But what's going on is I mean, look back to here. [I was standing by the overhead projector again, pointing at the one string lute.] The first thing that Pythagoras gets to as he starts dividing is the 1, 4, and 5. The simplest of ratios when dividing the frequency of sound is pop music. You've heard the phrase, "just give me three chords and the truth." These are those three chords. The "one" chord that is formed based on the primary tone sounded when the string is plucked, the "five" chord that is formed based on the note sounded after the first division of the string, and the "four" chord that is formed based on the note that is sounded after the second division. One, Four, Five. So pop music is based on the simplest, most foundational divisions. So, to see the Church embrace this form of music indicates to me there is a want for order and simplicity. We have perceived chaos dominating the horizon and it is therefore expected and understandable that we would wish for order - that we would wish to place limits on the seemingly limitless.

So, what's the future then? I know, you're already ahead of me, I'm certain, but let's do this. [I move to the overhead projector and pull the marker from my pocket again.] I mean, this felt so mathematical earlier. [I shot a look to the physicist who was onstage and she nodded approvingly.] Again, this would be a triangle. [I drew another triangle.] It is also a right triangle, as was our previous triangle, but this time, we'll go with a length of 3 and 3. [I wrote 3 underneath the bottom line of the right triangle and then wrote 3 on the vertical line of the right triangle.] OK. Can anyone give me the length of the hypotenuse of this right triangle? [A long, silent pause] So here's the thing. This drove Pythagoras crazy, right? [I'm pointing to the new triangle on the overhead projector.] Didn't this? [Still pointing to the new triangle] I mean, to get the square root of 18 is just not going to happen. [The physicist was now laughing audibly.] All Pythagoras and has to work with are whole numbers and fractions, right? So, this is not cool man. [I'm back at the projector, pointing at the new triangle.] This is not something that they created, this is not something they can change, this just is. And without irrational numbers he's not going to reconcile things.

So, here's what I think. I think that the future of worship is this line right here. [I am drawing on the hypotenuse of the new right triangle, tracing it back and forth until it becomes thick and dark and substantial.] That it will reconcile order and perceived chaos, that it will point to the chaos, that it will point to the limitlessness of things, that it will point to the irrationality of where we are and in so doing, it will probably point to the most irrational thing of all, which is grace. And I hope and I pray that in the process of this contentious thing ahead of us, we will still be known and defined simply - as people singing songs to Christ, as if to a God.