Poems Inspired by John's Gospel

My Hutch-friend Rebecca has written some really good poems about the Gospel of John. I have been meaning to link to them for a while.

Here are some lines from her latest one (The Little Boots Liturgies: John 20):

They sat in blanked silence,
retracing the death of all known belief,
yielding to every aftershock,
as it rolled through the dry earth of their bodies.

“It is finished!” 
They had heard it with their own ears.
They had watched
while each last hope pulled shut

like a bolted door,

through which
Hope passed (even yet)
and stood among them.

“Peace, be with you.”

See Him there,
transposing physics.

OK, so I wanted to go on quoting, but pretty soon I would have posted the whole poem, and then you would have no reason to click on the link to her site.

Don't just sit here; there's poetry to be read! What are you doing still reading this?!

Hutchmoot 2012 (Part 2: Favorite Moments)

In the weeks leading up to Hutchmoot 2012, I grew tired of answering the perennial question, "What's a Hutch Moose?" One of my Facebook friends said an acquaintance of hers had called it a "Hooch Mooch," which I guess would be worse than a Hutch Moose. But not quite as bad as "That Hoochy Mama thing you go to," which is what yet another friend's friend calls it.

Anyway, I started vaguely referring to it "a conference" or "a gathering of Christians who like art." This seemed like a lie, since it is much, much more than those things. In fact, a Hutchmoot is such a special, unique thing that  I'm not sure any definition could capture it correctly. A top-ten list, however, might come closer... so here goes:

Ten of My Top Experiences at Hutchmoot 2012
(Ordered Chronologically, Since I Loved Them All So Much; Also, I Am Probably Forgetting Some, So I Will Not Call This The Top Ten)

Thursday Night: Square Peg Alliance and Friends Concert in the round. This is always a lot of fun, with many very talented artists participating. This year, many of the usual suspects were present: The Andys (Peterson, Gullahorn, and Osenga), Jill Philips, Eric Peters, Randall Goodgame, Jason Gray and Ron Block. (Ben Shive, however, was sadly absent because he had to hit a record production deadline.) One fun surprise was the Chaffers (remember Waterdeep?). If I had to pick a favorite, it would be Jason Gray, who is extremely skillful at transmogrifying performance into worship.

Friday Afternoon: Talking with N. D. Wilson about his fantastic, mind-bending work of apologetics, Notes From the Tilt-A-Whirl. I was concerned with his approach on a couple of points, and I wanted to hear what he had to say. Nate was very real, very considerate, and very generous with his time. I left not convinced of his rightness, but more understanding of his approach. He is a stand-up guy and you should buy each and every one of his brilliant books.

Saturday Morning: The Ragamuffin Legacy Session. Rich Mullins has always been one of my favorite musicians, and it was amazing to hear Andrew Peterson, Ben Shive, and many others talk about his background, his music, and his effects on both Christian Contemporary Music and the lives of his listeners.

Saturday Afternoon: Singing with saints. While waiting for the dinner bell to ring, a group of folks sat around and jammed together. This soon turned into one of my favorite hymn-sings in a long time. I forgot how much I love being able to lose myself in the harmony of a familiar song.

Saturday Night: Joining in service with others. There's something very therapeutic about cleaning. When my mind and heart are full, as they were by Saturday night, I was more than ready for straightening, sweeping, and mopping. It did my heart good to work alongside some of my favorite people on earth with the common goal of setting the place in order.

Sunday Night: I was really excited to continue a tradition we started at Hutchmoot 2011 with some new lifelong friends from San Diego. We had a good dinner, honest conversations, and a sound pint at a local burger place, and then sought out the sweet strains of Bluegrass. Last year, it was Layla's Bluegrass Inn with a young but very talented band. This year, it was a jam session peopled by a number of very talented folks at the Station Inn. 

All Weekend Long: Evie's (and Lewis's) amazing food. I cannot say enough about the simple culinary delights of the fare we shared, so I won't try.

All Weekend Long: The people I stayed with. I didn't know Mark and Wendy before Hutchmoot, and they weren't even part of the event (they're my brother's friend's friends), but they were nothing but gracious, inviting, and caring all weekend long. They tolerated our irregular hours, gave us great meals, and provided wonderful conversation. They obviously believe in the Romans 12 type of hospitality. 

All Weekend Long: Hanging out with my big brother. Andrew has always been one of my heroes, so it makes me happy to spend time with him. From the time he picked me up on Wednesday night to the time he dropped me off on Monday morning, he was encouraging, kind, and really fun to be with. His enthusiasm is contagious, and he is extremely patient with my lack of navigational skills. Together, we saw the Parthenon, the Farmer's Market, a WWII landing craft, and some of the greatest people you'll ever meet. All this and more made me delighted to be able to spend the weekend with him.

From Now On: The life-changing consequences of this amazing event. It would be a shame to be there and see all the effort, love, and caring that people invested, and come away unchanged. The Lord used this weekend to teach me some important things. Hopefully, He won't have to re-teach them to me again very soon. (See Hutchmoot 2012 (Part 1: The Spiritual Stuff).)

Hutchmoot 2012 (Part 1: The Spiritual Stuff)

If you know what a Hutchmoot is, you won't be surprised to hear that Hutchmoot 2012 was an occasion of breaking (the good kind), challenge (also the good kind), and immense blessing (I don't think there's a bad kind) for me.

That's the short version of how this event affected me. To explain why, we're going to have to take a scenic drive through the ugliness of my festering, not-quite-dead-yet flesh. Feel free to exit the vehicle at any time if you find yourself growing ill.

Light at the end of the tunnel: If we make it through my old self's rotting corpse in one piece, I'll tell you why Hutchmoot was one of the most beautiful things to happen to it in a long time.

So here are three things you need to know about me:

1. I'm insecure. Debilitatingly so. I crave validation and acceptance and live in constant fear of not being good enough to receive them. I thrive on praise and cringe at the slightest hint of criticism. I use other people as benchmarks, caring more that I can compare myself to them than that they are made in the very image of God.
2. I'm selfish. I seek my own pleasure, my own goals, my own way, with every wretched breath. I march, jackbooted, over the needs and desires of others. (The exception is when their needs or desires coincide with mine, in which case I tolerate them for a while, as Hitler tolerated Stalin before Operation Barbarossa.)
3. The first two things about me are lies. Well, they're starting to become lies. Chapters 4 - 6 of Paul's Letter to the Romans tell me this is true. Like Abraham, I have believed the impossible, and my faith in Christ has been credited to me as righteousness (4:19-25). God has restored my relationship with Himself and given me a glorious hope (5:1-5). In large part, this hope springs from the fact that my old self is dead. When I came to Christ, I died, just as surely as if a divine executioner had stood me up against a brick wall and used an expertly aimed hollow-point round to turn my brains into soup (6:1-7). In my old man's place lives the new man, the image of Christ in me.

Still with me? Good. So how did Hutchmoot 2012 change me? How did it make Thing #3 truer while making Things #1 and #2 falser? (And is "falser" even a word?)

God used my sweet communion with Hutchfriends, my tummy full of Hutchfood, and the megadoses of truth in the Hutchsessions to clear up my cloudy vision a little bit. And, quite frankly, I didn't really like what I saw. I realized that my flesh was still much too alive. Rather than giving wholeheartedly and unstintingly to others, my old self wanted to measure my skills, talent, experiences, and accomplishments against theirs. It wanted to use these precious friends to my advantage. Perhaps talking with certain people would give me the appearance of being important, of being worthy of spending time with. Vicarious power and prestige? Yes, please.

I saw these natural tendencies and found them utterly disgusting.

Here's the really beautiful part: This clarity of vision was accompanied by encouraging words of truth from Scripture. Russ Ramsey gave a devotion on I Corinthians 4:3-4, reminding me that I am not my own judge, and that no other human is, either. My worth and value are judged by the One who thought I was important enough to sacrifice His Son for. Sally Lloyd-Jones followed this up with a two-word sermon that I needed badly: "Never compare."

So what do I take away from Hutchmoot? Three things, conveniently enough.

1. The remembrance that God loves me and that He alone judges me. This means I don't need to try so hard to be lovable or admirable. He sees me with all my faults and still gave His Son's life for mine. This frees me up to love others in the same way rather than seeing them as competitors.
2. God made me in His image, and He made me to share my creativity with others. I suffer from a sort of creative attention deficit disorder -- it is very difficult for me to finish things I have started. I realized this week that if God is going to use my work to encourage others, I need to complete what I start. I will do this not out of obligation or guilt, but because I believe God has given me resources so I will use them. This means I am going to make a concerted effort to first finish all the half-done things sitting around my mind, and then diligently let new things flow out as often -- and as completely -- as I can.
3. I need to keep dying. I've been dying for two and a half decades so far, and sometimes it seems like the flesh is stronger than ever. The good news is that one day, I will finally attain death, and then I will be more alive than I ever dreamed was possible. In the meantime, I will keep seeking out other believers to encourage me along to greater depths of love and sacrifice, as I do the same for them.

I am planning to post at least one more time on my favorite Hutchmoot 2012 moments, so you can look forward to that later this week (if the Lord wills). For now, I'll end by saying I'm extremely humbled by and grateful for this experience. You can check out other responses to it at the Rabbit Room.

And, oh, yes: "falser" is apparently a real word. In Scrabble, anyway.

Hutchmoot II: In Which I (Finally) Make It to Nashville

As you may remember, a dirty low-down debit card thief prevented me from attending Hutchmoot 2010. I am happy to report that no such thing occurred this year. However, my own sense of inadequacy very nearly had the same effect on my soul that last year's thief had on my wallet.

From the moment I walked through the doors of the venue, I was intimidated by what I perceived as greatness on every side. Some of my favorite musicians and writers were there, including Jason Gray, Andrew Peterson, Andy Gullahorn, Jonathan Rogers, A. S. "Pete" Peterson, and S. D. Smith. The first night, there was a show by the Square Peg Alliance, which was amazing. As I watched and listened to the music, I couldn't help but wonder what I was doing here.

I'm not a professional artist, or a writer, or a musician.  Even worse, I don't really have any intention of becoming one.  I work as a business analyst for a company that does third-party administration services for life insurance companies. I used to dream of singing or writing for a living, but those dreams fizzled out when I realized that you can't eat art or pay a mortgage with it.

So, at Hutchmoot 2011, I found myself playing the familiar role of a poser.  It reminded me of I Samuel 17, where David's brother Eliab accuses him of having a presumptuous, evil heart -- except, in my case, the accusation was justified.   I felt like a little boy who had abandoned his sheep to come down and gawk at the Giants.

I knew intellectually that this wasn't true. In his welcome speech, Andrew Peterson had made it clear that each person there was an important part of the community. None of the Square Pegs exuded haughtiness or a sense of superiority. I knew that I was a welcome person who had valuable contributions to make. But I'd be jiggered if I knew what those valuable contributions might be.

As I compared myself to all the great artists and thinkers who were gathered in that place, I had a  hard time believing that I was very important to anyone. Nonetheless, I played my role well, having paid attention in my junior high drama class.  In sessions, I tried to say Important-Sounding Things and nod my head sagely at the right times. To myself, of course, I was a phony, but that didn't stop me from putting on a good show.

In the end, what saved me from this dismal state was love. (This should come as no surprise, since love is all that saves any of us from anything.) In this particular case, it was Jason Gray's humble love for the people he was ministering to in Friday night's concert.

In some ways, Jason was the greatest giant of them all.  A bona fide Christian artist who gets airplay on Christian top-40 stations, a deeply spiritual man with a lot of challenging ideas about faith and godliness, and one of the most genuine, honest singer / songwriters I know of -- for me, being around him was like being around some sort of mythic hero.  And I was dangerously close to committing idolatry.

But Jason sliced through the mythos with his honesty, authenticity, and humility.  Rather than building himself up as some sort of CCM demigod, he treated his audience as a group of brothers and sisters.  He saw his role as leading us into worship, not as our superior, but as our fellow-worshiper.  Jason taught us parts to sing along with him, so we could join right in with him as he ascribed worth to our Father that night.  In short, he took the role of priest, not the role of idol.

During that show, some fleshly thing within me snapped.  Suddenly, I found myself truly believing what I had merely known before: This wasn't a contest.  I wasn't competing with others to see who was smartest, or most talented, or most successful.  I wasn't any less valuable because of my lack of artistic efforts.

That night, as I worshiped along with 100 other followers of Christ, I felt like I had become a true part of the community.

I could write a lot more about Hutchmoot.  I could tell you how amazing the sessions were, how incredible it was to listen to Sam Smith, Andrew and Pete Peterson, and Jonathan Rogers talking about literature, and how fun it was to play Settlers with Jon, Ashley, Todd, Jud, and Sherri.  However, others have probably said those kinds of things more powerfully than I can, so I won't belabor the point.

To me, the most wonderful part of this year's Hutchmoot will always be that moment on Friday night when I realized I am not just an inferior junior member of God's kingdom.  Rather, I am a true child of the Creator-King, and it is my birthright to engage in sub-creation.

I'm still working through the implications of that night, but I think one of its effects will be to encourage me to start writing again.  Too often, I have avoided writing for fear of failure.  I've told myself I would never become a great writer because I can't do it full-time.  I've let myself forget that I don't love writing because it might make me "successful"; I love it because of how it allows me to make beautiful things where there was nothing before.  God put that love in me, so He must want me to use it to the best of my ability.

To sum up: Hutchmoot 2011 taught me that, regardless of my insecurities and fears, I do belong in His family.  I can (and must) use my gifts to build His kingdom, and one of the ways I can do that is through writing.  So I will write.

It might take the form of more posts on this blog, or it may reside in a notebook for now.  Somehow, though, I am going to start working seriously and regularly at making beautiful configurations of words.  And if I do ever receive worldly success from these efforts, I must take care to use it like the shrewd servant in Jesus's parable, to get as much gain as I can for God's kingdom.