Sandra McCracken's got the first six songs from her new live CD, Live Under Lights and Wires, up at Noisetrade.com for free (or any amount). It was recorded in the Webbs' living room in front of a small audience. I've been listening to it for the last few days and I highly recommend it.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Everything Must Change
If you visit this blog with any regularity, you'll notice that the last few books I've written about were all written by Brian McLaren. Here's what's up with that: I was not trendy nor hip enough to catch on to the Brian McLaren bandwagon back in 2001 when A New Kind of Christian first came out. I had friends that told me it was a must-read, but I didn't take their word for it. Since then, I heard more about Mr. McLaren - both good and bad - and I came to realize what a polarizing figure he can be.
For some, he's a true prophet, pointing the way to a brighter future, and calling us to repent of our sins of greed, idolatry, and carelessness. For others, he's a wolf in sheep's clothing, twisting the Scriptures in an attempt to promote his liberal social and political agenda. A couple of years ago, he wrote an article on Christianity Today's blog in which he suggested that evangelicals should take a five-year break from discussing the issue of homosexuality, since we have a myriad of opinions on the subject and often do harm to the name of Christ when our rhetoric sounds more like hate speech. This, of course, got him into trouble with folks on both sides of the political aisle. Those on the left called him a coward for not speaking up for gays. Those on the right flatly called him unbiblical for not voicing the traditionally-held view that homosexual behavior is a sin. This is just one example of an area where Brian McLaren has been at the center of controversy.
So, rather than throwing a stone or ignoring him, I decided to read what he's written. I haven't read everything he's written. (In fact, I've got a brand-new copy of A Generous Orthodoxy waiting for my next bit of free time.) But I wanted to be able to speak intelligently when McLaren comes up in conversation. I'm not a fan of the demonization of individuals. Even people with whom I regularly disagree sometimes say things that resonates with me. And people with whom I usually agree can say things that makes my skin crawl. I think it's important that, as Christians, we become intelligent consumers of information and media; we need to take in what's good and spit out what's bad. We need to be able to see the divine image in everyone, even "the bad guys," and we need to recognize when someone on "our side" strays from the truth. We may not always agree on these distinctions, but it's important to think in these terms. No one is all bad and all wrong all the time, and no one is always right all the time either.
And so, as I read Brian McLaren's Everything Must Change, I did so with a critical eye and an open spirit. The book is huge in its scope. Essentially, McLaren argues for an entirely new understanding of life, and society, and the economy, and prosperity, and justice, and the environment. Such a scope is sure to alienate someone at every turn. Still, he does a good job of breaking down our world system into three interdependent mini-systems - prosperity, equity, and security. Together, they way they operate today, they constitute a suicide machine. Our insatiable desire for more stuff necessarily leads to a widening gap between the richest and the poorest. This, in turn, leads to a need for an adequate security system - one that will keep the poor from stealing our stuff. And the need for security means taxation, which brings the equity system into play. A society must not only decide who will pay for security, but also who will benefit most from the prosperity system.
McLaren argues that these three interlocking systems will ultimately lead us to our own destruction because by their very nature, they must always increase. What's the solution? Drawing from his previous book The Secret Message of Jesus, McLaren insists that Jesus taught a way that exists above the current political and social divides - one that will reform the current prosperity, security, and equity systems into one that works in harmony with Creation and the limits of our natural and social boundaries.
To get the full effect of the message, you'll have to read the book (I got mine for $0.25 on eBay), but central to his appeal is the disparity between the message of good news we bring to the world's poor and the lack of practical change wrought by that good news. In other words, shouldn't the message of the kingdom bring relief to those who are hungering and thirsting? Or is it just a message about the afterlife? If you read through the Gospels, it's really difficult to find a solely heavenly meaning to much of what Jesus taught. There's just so much that should impact the way in which we live every day. While the call of the kingdom is a call to change the story we live by, many of us too easily accept the framing story that the world takes for granted - a framing story that's shallow and does not see any need for change. Jesus' framing story is the kind of story that would necessitate a radical change to the systems of this world; it's a story that stands in sharp contrast to the trite and all-too-simple messages we get from television theme songs from the 1980s and from most Christian music.
The book left me feeling challenged, but I'll readily admit that, despite McLaren's attempt to close the book on a note of hope, I felt discouraged as I closed the back cover. If just part of what McLaren argues for is true, it seems that much of the modern evangelical tradition has missed some pretty important truths contained in Jesus' teachings. On the other hand, if our understanding of Jesus must deepen, then so must our understanding of one another. Suddenly, perhaps someone from another tradition isn't simply wrong, but instead, they're just seeing an aspect of Jesus we never emphasized. And that does leave me feeling hopeful.
If you're not ready to read the whole book, much of the premise of Everything Must Change was presented by Brian in a speaking tour he conducted in 2007/2008. One of the stops on this tour was my alma mater, Gordon College. Here's an iTunes link to his talk there. Enjoy.

Source:
Brian McLaren, Everything Must Change. Resources are available at www.brianmclaren.net, www.everythingmustchange.org, and www.deepshift.org.
'80 sitcom themes II
So, after Melinda read my post from yesterday she started listing other TV themes she thought I should have posted instead. While I agree that the three I chose were not the definitive collection, I didn't want the post to be super long. So, for those of you who would like more, here are the honorable mentions:
Saturday, May 9, 2009
'80s sitcom themes and the end of the world
The last decade or so has seen the decline of one of the great cultural phenomenons of the twentieth century. I am, of course, referring to the television theme song.
There is more to life than what you're living. So take a chance and face the wind.
When I was growing up, just about every show had a theme song - a quick thirty-second ditty about the theme of the show. And, usually, along with the song itself, there were brief scenes that showed the basic plot of the series and some of the best moments of the show so far. Now, it seems those precious seconds are too costly, so they're filled by yet another commercial. Credits role during the show itself and instrumental theme music is kept to a minimum. Or in the cases where there actually is still a theme song, it's usually a pop/rock song from years ago designed to make us feel a bit nostalgic.
Sometimes the world looks perfect: Nothing to rearrange.
Sometimes you get a feeling like you need some kind of change.
No matter what the odds are this time, nothing’s going to stand in my way.
This flame in my heart, and a long lost friend.
What ever happened to predictability?
The milk man, the paper boy, evening T.V.
Theme songs are all but gone; they've gone the way of rotary phones, car windows you need to roll down, and cassette tapes. And it's really funny how familiar they made things seem. Even if you'd never seen an episode of Who's the Boss?, all you had to do was tune in once, and you'd hear about second chances, and you'd see Tony and Angela meeting for the first time. Don't know what Perfect Strangers is about? No need to get the DVDs from Netflix so you can start over with the pilot episode. All you need is the theme song and you'll see Balki making his way to America, only to change cousin Larry's plans for life in the big city.
And when you listen to some of these theme songs now, they seem kind of silly. In fact, they remind me of cheesy Christian music in a lot of ways. They're always family-friendly, upbeat, and positive. And just like the plots of the shows themselves. They're often trite, reinforcing the TV belief that there's never a problem that can't be solved in a half-hour (or, in the case of a two-part episode, a full hour).
But these theme songs are more than just catchy. They're surprisingly philosophical too. They're like pop-culture fortune cookies that point the way to a better future, something we all want. Just take a look at and listen to some of these lyrics:
Sometimes you get a feeling like you need some kind of change.
No matter what the odds are this time, nothing’s going to stand in my way.
This flame in my heart, and a long lost friend.
Gives every dark street a light at the end.
Standing tall, on the wings of my dream.
Rise and fall, on the wings of my dream.
The rain and thunder. The wind and haze.
I’m bound for better days. It’s my life and my dream.
Nothing’s going to stop me now.
Rise and fall, on the wings of my dream.
The rain and thunder. The wind and haze.
I’m bound for better days. It’s my life and my dream.
Nothing’s going to stop me now.
(Perfect Strangers, 1986)
What ever happened to predictability?
The milk man, the paper boy, evening T.V.
This whole worlds confusing me.
Clouds as mean as you ever seen.
And a bird who knows your tune.
And that little voice inside you wispering.
Kid don't sell your dreams so soon.
Clouds as mean as you ever seen.
And a bird who knows your tune.
And that little voice inside you wispering.
Kid don't sell your dreams so soon.
Everywhere you look (everywhere)
There's a heart (there's a heart)
A hand to hold on to.
Everywhere you look (everywhere)
There's a face of somebody who needs you.
When you're lost out there and your all alone
A light is waiting to carry you home.
Everywhere you look.
There's a heart (there's a heart)
A hand to hold on to.
Everywhere you look (everywhere)
There's a face of somebody who needs you.
When you're lost out there and your all alone
A light is waiting to carry you home.
Everywhere you look.
(Full House, 1987)
There is more to life than what you're living. So take a chance and face the wind.
An open road and a road that's hidden. A brand new life around the bend.
There were times I lost a dream or two.
Found the trail, and at the end was you.
There's a path you take and a path not taken; the choice is up to you, my friend.
Nights are long but you might awaken
To a brand new life, brand new life, brand new life around the bend.
Found the trail, and at the end was you.
There's a path you take and a path not taken; the choice is up to you, my friend.
Nights are long but you might awaken
To a brand new life, brand new life, brand new life around the bend.
(Who's the Boss?, 1984)
Each theme offers its own spin on happiness and fulfillment. They tell us that change is good, self-determination is important, and family is the most important thing in the world. Not bad qualities, but somehow they leave us feeling empty. And the theme song lyrics range from the mystical ("A light is waiting to carry you home," Full House) to the utterly selfish ("The facts of life are all about you," The Facts of Life).
Sometimes I think it would be nice if life were more like a sitcom; the people on these shows seem generally happy. The problem is that there are never any real problems, and even when the writers of the show make room for a serious theme ("a very special episode"), everything's back to normal by next week. That just doesn't gel with reality.
Still, I'm struck by the fact that TV theme song theology is prevalent in our culture. Just ask the average person on the street what life's all about and you'll usually here that life is about finding happiness (and that means something different for everyone), and that it's about taking chances, and it's about enjoying good times with family and friends. Sounds more and more like the recipe for a good '80s sitcom.
This type of thinking is appealing to a lot of people because real life is filled with things like war, genocide, climate change, hate crimes, racism, death, divorce, abandonment, poverty, disease, starvation, and other forms of pain and suffering. It would be nice to trade in these issues for the ones often dealt with on situation comedies. You know, things like having two dates for the same night or getting grounded for coming home late. TV is a world where twenty-somethings can afford an apartment in Manhattan like the one on Friends, where people think Dave Coulier is funny, and where Norm never has to use the same line twice when walking into Cheers. It's not like our world at all.
Sitcom themes tell us that everything is essentially good. Any problem we may encounter is actually just an ingredient for something comical. Life goes on, and everything will be alright. The future is always looking bright. Maybe that's why spinoff series were so popular. When one character left the show, it was just a new season of life, where settings and friends would be different, but where the fun times would continue. In short, sitcoms exist in a world of denial. Nothing bad can ever happen to us there.
If you've read this far, you're probably thinking, Wow, he's reading way too much into these theme songs... And you'd be right. I don't think anyone sat down and wrote these lyrics with any deep sense that were digging for and finding truth. Rather, I think our entertainment has a subtle way of reflecting the values we already have. And that's what frightens me.
As I listen to some of the voices from Christian leaders these days, I hear the same brand of sitcom denial. I also hear a longing for the way things used to be (or at least the way we remember them being). Only now are some leaders waking up to the threat of climate change, but the popular sentiment on the subject remains one of of denial: God is going to destroy the earth anyway, so why take care of it? And when it comes to poverty, we regularly hear conservative commentators talk about the need for the poor to develop a strong work ethic, but never the need for an equitable economic system that holds those in power responsible for the societal decisions they make. It's as if they're living in a sitcom, where they are so confident that the happiness will continue, they see nothing wrong with doing whatever makes them happy - The rain and thunder. The wind and haze. I’m bound for better days. It’s my life and my dream. Nothing’s going to stop me now.
My next post is going to be a review of Brian McLaren's book Everything Must Change. The book is actually a sequel to The Secret Message of Jesus. If you read my blog post about that book, you may remember that the "secret message" was really just the message of the kingdom of God, nothing as controversial as the title would have you believe. In this case, however, I think the title Everything Must Change is an understatement. But more on that later...
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