My Bibles

About a month ago my wife and I celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary.  It has been my practice to follow the "traditional" anniversary gifts for my gifts to her.  This means that for our 15th anniversary I got her a crystal vase with our names engraved into it.  It was very nice, if I do say so myself.

But then, on the way to meet her at the restaurant to celebrate, I dropped the vase on the concrete sidewalk and it broke into a million pieces.  So much for that.

My anniversary gift for my wife didn't work out, but she got me a gift too: a new Bible.  It's a compact, yet large print, ESV Bible with my wife's nickname for me ("Hubbz") imprinted in gold on the front cover.  I was excited to receive it, and immediately moved my previous "go-to" Bible from its spot on my desk to a retirement position on my bookshelf.  It had gotten worn out over the past 10 years or so that I've had it, and it was time for a new one anyway.

That got me to thinking about the Bibles I've owned through different seasons of my life, all of which I still have in my possession.  Each one of those Bibles tells a story about my life at the time I was using it.

The first Bible I ever wanted for myself was a King James Version.  For some reason I don't recall, my friend and I were fascinated with the old-times feel of King James english so I asked my mom to get me a copy, and she did.  I was probably about 12 years old at the time.  It was a large print King James, with the words of Christ in red (which I don't recommend).  At the time I got this Bible, I wasn't a Christian, and the King James english proved to be more challenging than I thought it would be.  This Bible is still in great shape because it was almost never read.

The second Bible I remember having was given to me at some point in time when I was a teenager.  I don't remember who or why it was given to me, but it was.  This one was a NIV Student Bible.  Inside of this Bible are little explanatory notes that help the reader understand the context of scripture.  This is a special Bible to me.  In high school, I used to bring this Bible with me to school and place it on the top of the chest-high lockers in the school and read it before class started in the mornings.  As you can see from the picture, there are plenty of teenage indicators on the Bible: stickers, duct tape, and lots of highlighting and underlining and drawings in the margins (I don't highlight or underline anything in my Bibles anymore - you can, but it's not something that helps me).  This Bible is also special to me because it is the Bible I used when I read the Bible from cover to cover for the first time in my life.  According to a note I put in the margin, I finished my first read-through on August 4, 2002.  This Bible - by far - is the most-used one I've ever owned.  It went with me through my teenage years and also through college, and its pages are stuffed with notes, cards, and other mementos from that time in my life.

After I got married, I bought my next Bible: a New King James Version of the John MacArthur Study Bible.  This Bible got me through my first years of vocational ministry, and helped me immensely as a budding preacher in his mid-twenties.  MacArthur's commentary is wonderful, and the New King James translation is solid.  One of the significant factors of this Bible was the price tag, a hefty $70.00, which was a big deal for a newly married couple.  I remember that when I got home with it, I plopped into a hammock we had hanging outside and began to read.  These days the cover is frayed and torn a bit, and the bookmark was somehow cut off, but overall, it's still in good shape.

My next regular Bible is the one that I've just retired.  I've been using it regularly for about 10 years or so.  This is the Bible that could tell the most stories about ministry.  It's been to hospital rooms, to the bedside of the sick and dying, in broken homes, and and through many counseling sessions.  As I said earlier, I don't like to write in my Bibles, but this Bible has some writing in it.  But the writing all has to do with counseling sessions I've used it in.  If there is something underlined or written in it, it was done in order to show someone else what it was saying.  One of my favorite things about this Bible is the single-column text, which seems to be a rarity in Bibles these days.  I really love having the text in a single column for some reason.  I think it makes it easier to read.  There are some torn pages, and as you can see in the picture, the cover is well worn.

Finally, here's the new Bible my wife got me as an anniversary present.  Who knows where I'll go with it, or where it will take me.  Just as God used and directed my use of his word in throughout the seasons of my life, I know that he will do so again as I look to the future of studying and applying his word.  Truly, there is no greater gift than a new Bible.

Top 10 List

This morning I participated in the graveside service of a spiritual giant in my life.  Virginia Ahlquist was a member at Riverview for decades and had a significant impact in my life.  In fact, as I said at her funeral service, of all the people in my life who have had an impact on me spiritually, Virginia would be high on my top 10 list.  No, we didn't have a special or even particularly close relationship, although I've known her all my life.  And no, I can't point to one single event or or dramatic experience in which Virginia was the difference maker or proclaimed to me some deep spiritual revelation.  Rather, it was in the ordinary ways that she served God that had such a monumental impact on my life and, I believe, my eternal destiny.

Although I grew up in the church and made a public profession of faith at the age of nine, I don't believe I actually came to genuine faith until later in my teenage years.  I can't pinpoint the day or time of my conversion as some people can.  Instead, I can point you to a season in my life in which I believe God saved me.  It wasn't dramatic, and there weren't any bright lights or voices from heaven.  It was a process over a long period of time.  But that process actually began much earlier in my life.

I grew up at Riverview, and as such, I still go to church with people who taught my Sunday School classes when I was a child.  Virginia was one of those teachers - a fact that she reminded me of almost every week she was at church during my tenure as Senior Pastor.  Each week I shake hands with people as they exited the sanctuary, and whenever it was Virginia's turn to shake hands, she'd do so, look at me, and say, "My little first grader!"  She said this because I was one of her first grade Sunday School students (or maybe it was kindergarten - or both!  I don't recall).  I think it was special for her to see one of her old Sunday School students serve as the pastor of her church, and it was special to me to serve one of my old Sunday School teachers from 30 years ago.

And that's mostly it.  Like I said, Virginia's influence in my life - from an outsider's perspective - would have seemed rather minimal.  Sure, she was my Sunday School teacher as a child, but we never had an exceptionally close relationship.  The reason I mark her as having such a monumental impact on my spiritual life is that it was the biblical foundation laid by her and others when I was young that God ultimately used to bring me to faith.

Even though I grew up in the church, I was rebellious, and I was really good at hiding it.  I'd put on one face for church, and another face for other interactions.  Most people thought I was a good kid, and I suppose that by some metrics I was.  But I, like most, had periods of deep rebellion.  And regardless of how things looked on the outside, on the inside I was lost.  I was at enmity with God.  I was bound for hell.

But in the midst of rebellious activity that I set my hand to before my conversion, there was always an inner voice that was appealing to the biblical foundation that had been laid in my childhood.  The Spirit used what so many faithful volunteers and teachers had put into my mind to convict me that what I was doing was wrong, that I knew better, and most importantly, I knew the truth: that I needed a Savior who could save me from my sin.  When I eventually listened to that conviction and began to act upon it, it was the biblical foundation that Virginia and others had laid that God used to bring me to salvation.  Where would I be had Virginia not invested in teaching me the foundations of the Christian faith so many years ago?  God only knows.

For this reason, I rank Virginia rather highly on my top 10 list of people who have had a significant spiritual impact on my life.  I'm sure that when Virginia said "Yes" to being a volunteer first grade Sunday School teacher, she probably had no conception of the monumental and eternity altering impact it would have on the young children she would be teaching.  Rather, she probably thought that it was something simple that she could do to use her time and talents to serve the Lord and glorify God.  But that's the point: God takes our simple acts of obedience (like teaching first grade Sunday School) and magnifies them into salvation-building events that change the course of eternity.  I praise God for the life and ministry of Virginia Ahlquist.  We don't often think of first grade Sunday School teachers as being world-changers, but Virginia certainly was.

The testimony of Virginia's simple acts of obedience provide all of us with a wonderful example to follow.  God doesn't need us to be dynamic preachers, to have international appeal or reach, to have limitless funding for ministry initiatives, or anything else.  All he needs is for us to say "Yes" when he calls us to do something.  The reality is that God probably won't call you to some dynamic international preaching ministry that will affect the hearts of millions.  But God probably will call you to do something small, something simple, and something ordinary.  And if you will say "Yes," to that small thing, God can and will do amazing things with your willingness to obey.

In what small way could God use your obedience to potentially change the eternity of someone else? Maybe, like Virginia, you could teach a Sunday School class.  Providentially, Virginia's husband, Al, who passed away several years ago, also occupies a spot on my top 10 list.  He was never a Sunday School teacher of mine, but when I was a teenager he offered to simply hang out with a group of boys from our youth group once a week during the school year.  Those times spent with him were deeply impactful to me.  And all we did was hang out.

I don't know if I'm on anyone's top 10 list the way that Virginia is on mine.  I hope I am, but not for any vainglorious reason.  Rather, I want to be found faithful in the little things.  I want to be used by God to be a part of his eternity-shaping work in this world.  I know that I serve a great and powerful God who can do remarkable things with my ordinary obedience.  My prayer is that God would lead each of us to say "Yes" to the simple and ordinary acts of obedience.  If we do that, God can use us to change the world.

2016 Books

The end of the year is a great time, because it's in these concluding weeks that prominent bloggers begin to publish their "Best Books of the Year" lists.  Most of the books that I read come from the recommendation of blogs that I read, so this time of year will literally fill up my reading list for the next few months.

In that spirit, I thought I might make my own list of the best books that I've read this year.  Actually, I need to clarify: for the past couple of years, I don't usually read books - I listen to them.  Audiobooks have revolutionized the way that I take in books.  I love listening to books when I'm walking, driving, cleaning, or doing anything else that doesn't require thoughtful attention that will draw me away from what I'm listening to.  That being said, this is a list of the best audiobooks that I've "read" this past year.  Reader beware: some of these books have disturbing content, although I must say that I didn't go into them knowing about that content.  So I can't give a blanket recommendation for all of these books, however, these are the ones that most caught my attention this past year, listed in order from 10-1.

10. If At Birth You Don't Succeed by Zach Anner.  Sometime this past year I stumbled upon the Youtube channel of Zach Anner and was instantly hooked.  Zach is a comedian who lives with pretty severe cerebral palsy, which he flawlessly works into his act.  His comedy is great.  So when I heard that he wrote a book describing his life and experiences, I jumped into it.  I always appreciate hearing from people who have overcome challenges - especially people with disabilities - and this book is a great example of someone doing just that.  Zach has a great outlook on life and on his disability, and his attitude and spirit are worthy of emulation.  Zach isn't a Christian, but his reflection on his life and disability almost presupposes a sovereign order to the universe, which I found interesting.  That being said, Zach is a raunchy comedian, which is a shame, and his book is also quite raunchy (but still very funny, and would probably be much funnier without the raunchy jokes).  His Youtube channel, however, is clean for the most part.  If the book had been less raunchy, it would occupy a much higher spot on my list.

9. The Revenant by Michael Punke.  One of my favorite genres is history (see In the Heart of the Sea for great historical book) or historical fiction, or books that are a little bit of both.  The Revenant fits into that latter category.  I got turned on to this book because the movie came out, and the book was in the iTunes bestseller list, I think.  After reading a short description, I was intrigued.  While based on historical events, the book is rather farm from factual.  Hugh Glass was a real man, and he he did have an encounter with a bear, and he was left for dead by two supposed friends, and he did have a plot for revenge...but it was never carried out.  According to his Wikipedia page, by the time he crawled his way back to the nearest fort, he was too tired to seek out his betrayers and exact vengeance.  But that's a much less exciting ending for a book, so Punke took it in a different way.  Although it's not true to history, it's still a good story of survival.

8. The Insanity of God by Nik Ripken.  This was a recent listen for me.  This book details what it's like to be a Christian in "hard" parts of the world where the Christian faith is either severely frowned upon or outlawed altogether.  Ripken (not his real name) travels all over the world to talk to believers in these hard places to see how they do it - how they live as Christians in hostile environments.  What he encounters are some remarkable people and stories.  While the stories are interesting, challenging, and convicting all at the same time, I had some theological quibbles with Ripken throughout the book.  For instance, in his own mission work, he acknowledges that many times the message of the gospel was not given (in favor of providing humanitarian aid).  He notes that this was a problem and that it troubled him, but he never addresses it beyond noting the problem.  He also seems to favor a strong continuationist theology that I think can get out of hand very quickly.  From a practical standpoint, I thought the narrator of this book left something to be desired as well.  But aside from these concerns (odd title notwithstanding), it's a very good book.

7. Fortunate Son by John Fogerty.  Another favorite genre of mine is biography or memoir.  I really enjoy reading about peoples' lives - even people I don't like!  Thankfully this wasn't true of John Fogerty, although he's got some pretty polarizing political views.  I read the book mostly for his reflections on the music of Creedence Clearwater Revival (Note: If you don't have "Chronicles Vol. 1 by CCR, stop what you're doing and go get it).  While Fogerty seems to be a bit of a self-important head case, hearing him talk about his influences, how he learned to sing, the guitars he likes, and so on, was a great listen for me, considering my own interest in music.



6. Cold Case Christianity by J. Warner Wallace.  I bought this book for my dad for Christmas last year, and then I got the audiobook for myself.  It's a good read, and a great introduction to Christian apologetics.  Wallace, a former homicide detective, examines the evidence for the existence of God and the truth of Christianity.  It's fascinating, and I learned a ton about evidence in general and the different kinds of evidence that can and should be used in forming a conclusion.  There's also a lot of great stuff about inductive versus deductive reasoning, the power of circumstantial evidence, and a lot more.  This book is well worth a listen/read.



5. God Is Not Great by Christopher Hitchens.  Confession: I really enjoy Christopher Hitchens, and interestingly, this isn't the only time he'll show up on this list.  In addition to this book, I also listened to his memoir, Hitch 22 this year.  Not only could I listen to his deep, British-accented voice for pretty much forever, I think he's actually intellectually honest (see number 2 below).  Even though the title of this book is rather provocative (as is the subtitle: "How Religion Poisons Everything"), Hitchens, I think was open to other views (see the fantastic documentary "Collision" for more on that), and he was open to thinking through good arguments and weighing them for their merit.  That being said, this book was not written to engage arguments.  It was written to be a polemic against Christianity, which is mostly what made him famous.  If nothing else, it's good to read things like this to know where people are coming from (an ever-increasing number of people in our post-Christian culture).  Why is it so high on my list?  Not necessarily for the book itself, but for the character of the author.  Reader beware: Hitchens can be crass and vulgar, and that is evident in this book.  

4. The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien.  When I was in seventh grade a friend of mine was really into the Tolkien books.  I picked up the hobbit and started reading it, but never made it too far, as the opening chapters are...well...slow.  Now as an adult, I figured it was time to give it another go via audiobook.  I also listened to the Lord of the Rings Trilogy this year, but didn't enjoy them as much as I did The Hobbit.  For one thing, it's narrated by the great Robert Ingliss, whose reading and style simply can't be outdone (at least for these Tolkien books).  Secondly, I think the Hobbit is just a more engaging story (at least in book form - the movies on the other hand...ugh).  I plan to read this one to my kids in the next year or so.


3. Seeking Allah, Finding Jesus by Nabeel Qureshi.  I'll be honest: books on the Muslim religion don't hold a lot of draw to me.  It's not that I don't care about the evangelization of Muslims - I do - but more so that I just don't see it as a front-burner kind of issue for me and my life at the current moment.  In other words, when I picked up this book I didn't have high expectations that I would be significantly engaged by it.  I'm happy to say that I was very wrong.  This is a phenomenal book.  Qureshi comes from a Muslim family and was steeped in Muslim religion and culture throughout his childhood and young adulthood before becoming a Christian.  For this reason, he is able to provide fascinating insight into Muslim culture and tradition and belief, which sheds a very helpful light on why many Muslims think the way they do (for instance, why a caricature of Mohammed is so offensive, or how Muslims regard authority, and so on).  Qureshi also explains in detail why Muslims have a hard time believing that Jesus died on the cross, and in the process provides a fantastic apologetic for the Christian faith.  Moreover, through this book, we can see a very clear picture what it means to count the cost of following Jesus, as Qureshi basically left everything to become a Christian.  You should get this book and read it.

2. The Faith of Christopher Hitchens by Larry Alex Taunton.  If you read the Amazon reviews for this book you will find a lot of angry atheists who hate Taunton for writing it.  Hitchens was, of course, a vehement atheist, and many of his disciples despise the notion that Hitchens was potentially open to considering other points of view.  They see it as the deepest betrayal by one of their heroes, so rather than engage what Taunton says of his relationship with Hitchens, they simply respond with blind anger.  That is unfortunate, because this is a wonderful book.  For a long time, this was - hands down - the best book that I read this year (until I read the book at number 1).  The story of the friendship between Taunton and Hitchens in the closing months of Hitchens' life is endearing, real, deep, heartfelt, and any other number of adjectives.  This book really demonstrates the spirit of Hitchens that I described above in number 5.  It also serves as a great example of how and why we should be ready, willing, and able to talk to people about the Christian faith.  While Hitchens himself downplayed the possibility of a "deathbed conversion" for himself, this book reminds us that we have no idea what God can do in a person's life (even at the point of death).  Even if you know nothing of Christopher Hitchens, you should read this book.  And if you do enjoy or appreciate Hitchens you simply must read this book.

1. Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy.  This is the only book on this list that I have read/listened to twice this year, which is one of the main reasons that I figured it should occupy the number one spot.  It was so good (and so complex that I wanted to make sure I heard and understood the story correctly) that it required a second listening, and I'm planning on another read-through in the near future.  On second thought, I'm not sure "good" is an adequate description of this book.  Perhaps "intriguing" or "thought-provoking" is more accurate.  This is another work of historical fiction that is based on historical fact, but many of the details have been significantly indulged to the extent that it is categorized as a novel.  The story takes place in the pre-Civil War American Southwest, and details the terrible crimes of the Glanton Gang, through the eyes of the main character, known simply as The Kid.  The Glanton Gang made their living by collecting bounties on Indian scalps, the owners of which were known to terrorize white settlers.  Soon, however, the gang realized that the scalps of violent Indians looked the same as the scalps of peaceful Indians, and the bounty was the same for either kind of scalp, so they began to mercilessly slaughter any Indians they encountered.  Not long after that, drunk with bloodlust, they turned their violence on anyone and anything that got in their way.  The main antagonist is a character simply known as The Judge.  I'm not sure I've encountered a character anywhere else in literature as intriguing as The Judge, even though his character is utterly depraved and unspeakably evil.  There have been many interpretations by readers of who or what The Judge represents (my own interpretation is that his character represents unchecked human depravity), but you'll have to read it yourself to form your own opinion.  Another thing I thoroughly enjoyed about this book was its narrator: Richard Poe.  There cannot be a better voice for the narration of this book.  Reader beware: this book is a story that will take you to the depths of human depravity.  This book is exceedingly violent, as it details the account of the reprehensible men of the Glanton Gang doing horrible things (let's face it: scalping Indians isn't a pleasant activity), however the violence therein is stated very matter of factly and isn't sensationalized.

Pulled Over

Over the past few weeks, as there has been much discussion in the media about the supposedly unjust rates that black people are pulled over by police, it has caused me to reflect on my own experience with local police and my alleged "problems with the law."  It may surprise you to learn that I have been pulled over by the police some two dozen or so times which, in my mind, calls into question the notion that black drivers are pulled over more than white drivers.  You may respond that my anecdotal evidence isn't worth much - and I agree.  But then I must also call into question those anecdotes of black drivers who have allegedly been pulled over for little or no reason.

To be sure, the vast majority of times that I have been pulled over were for nothing, or almost nothing.  Upon reflection, it is clear to me that the officers who pulled me over on almost every occasion did so because they had probably cause to do so based on my exceptionally minor infraction.  In other words, they used the occasion to do a deeper check into who I was and what I was doing.  Let it also be known that in almost every case, the officers in question were justified in pulling me over.  I had indeed broken the law, even if the majority were extremely minor offenses.  In all of the times that I have been pulled over, I have only been ticketed twice - one of which was thrown out in court.

I also feel like I should add that I am perhaps the safest driver I know - just ask my wife - and as a general rule, I delight in following traffic laws.  Seriously.  I'm one of those people who thinks that driving is an inherently dangerous thing to do, and the more everybody obeys the rules, the safer we all will be on the roads.  So I take driving and traffic laws very seriously.  And when stopped by police, I am of the mind that polite compliance is of the highest priority.  The police are the authority on the roads, and are to be respected.

The very first time in my life that I was pulled over was in South St. Paul, on the corner of Marie and 14th Ave. (I remember the location because it was on the corner of the cemetery in South St. Paul).  I was a junior in high school and was driving a 1982 Chevy Caprice Classic wood-paneled station wagon.  The car was quite old by then, and I thought it might be fun to dress it up by painting some ironic flames on the hood, which I did.  Soon after, I came to a four-way stop, with a police officer stopped to my left.  I had clearly arrived at the stop sign before he did, so I left the stop sign first.  As soon as I had made the turn, the lights came one, and I pulled over.  When I rolled down the window, the cop told me that I had "squealed my wheels" when making the turn.  Apparently this was enough to warrant a stop.  I don't recall the tires squealing, but I'll take his word for it.  He then proceeded to shine his flashlight all throughout my car windows to see what was inside (it was at night).  No ticket.

Another time I was driving a Chevy S15 pickup truck that was also old and was suffering from electrical problems.  These problems meant that most of my dashboard indicator lights weren't working - including my bright lights indicator.  While driving down Robert St. I was pulled over for driving with my high beams on, and I went through the usual background and license check.  No ticket.

Still another time, I was visiting my sister in Rosemount one night and began the trip back to South St. Paul via Highway 3.  A section of the highway in Inver Grove Heights is full of twists and turns in the road.  While navigating these turns, it's virtually impossible not to touch either the yellow center line or one of the white shoulder lines, but that's what I was pulled over for this time: swerving, and suspicion of drunk driving.  It was a Sunday night, and I told the officer that I hadn't been drinking, but was just tired.  "Did you wake up early for church this morning?" the officer sarcastically asked.  "Yes, actually," I responded.  No ticket.

While I could go on and on with story after story, I'll leave you with one final anecdote: while working as the janitor at Riverview, one morning on my day off I went into the church at about 8:00 to set up for a meeting that I had forgotten to set up for earlier in the week.  Since it was my day off, when I had finished setting up I went back home (it's about 3.5 miles from the church to where I was living at the time).  Going from West St. Paul to South St. Paul via Wentworth Ave., astute drivers will notice that the speed limit went from 35 mph in West St. Paul to 30 mph in South St. Paul.  The change takes place at the city limits.  By the time I crossed over into South St. Paul, I guess I was still doing the West St. Paul 35 that I was used to.  I was nabbed by an officer, who ticketed me for speeding.  He also informed me that my tabs were expired (which I didn't know at the time).  When he came to my window, he asked if I had been drinking, to which I replied that I had not (it was only 9AM after all, and I wasn't really a drinker).  "But I'm smelling alcohol," the officer said.  "I'm not sure what to tell you.  I haven't been drinking," I replied.  "Get out of the car please," he said.  And then I went through the field sobriety tests on the road.  I hadn't touched a drop of alcohol, so I have no idea how he was "smelling alcohol."  He gave me a ticket for speeding, a warning for the expired tabs, and expounded on the merits of sober driving, with which I agreed.  I got in my Ford van and went on down the road.  I didn't make it home, however, before being pulled over again.  Driving down Southview Ave., another cop passed me going the other way.  As I glanced in my rearview mirror and saw him quickly whip a U turn and turn on his lights.  At this time I wasn't sure if he was after me or someone else, so I just proceeded to turn into our alleyway.  He followed me, and I drove into my parking stall at the house I was renting with my sister.  He boxed my car in, so as to eliminate any means of escape I might take.  As he got out of the car I reached my hand out the window and said, "I just got a ticket."  Then he got back in his car and went on his way.  So yes, I was pulled over twice within a 3.5 mile drive.

Why was I pulled over for these offenses and many others which I haven't even talked about here?  It obviously wasn't because I was black.  Is it because I'm a mean looking guy who has a look about him as though he's up to no good?  I doubt it - at least I've never been accused of that before.  Is it because I drive souped up, fancy sports cars?  Hardly!  Every car I owned up until last year has pretty much been a beater.  So then what is it that has led to all of these pull-overs?  I can only answer that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.  In other words, I did something that was technically against the law, and the police stopped me for it.  They were in the right and I was in the wrong almost every time - even if it was something minor and stupid.  Is it possible that a black person who has been pulled over several times was profiled and discriminated against?  Yes.  Is it also possible that they were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time like me and committed a minor infraction that the officer used to do a more extensive check?  Yes.  In fact, I'm pretty sure that's the story behind all of the times I've been pulled over.

I'm not necessarily trying to make a point by sharing my experiences, and I'm not trying to draw some kind of political conclusion or anything like that.  As someone who has been pulled over two dozen times, I find it interesting.  I should also note that for the past four years it has been my privilege to serve as a volunteer chaplain for the West St. Paul and Mendota Heights police departments.  I greatly appreciate the work our boys in blue do every day.

Minnesota Waterfalls Road Trip

Gooseberry Falls State Park

Several months ago on Facebook I ran across this article, or advertisement, or whatever you'd like to call it.  It's a trip to seven state parks all along Highway 61 on the North Shore.  Each of the state parks on the route has at least one waterfall on the river that runs through it, emptying into Lake Superior.  One of my favorite places on earth is Gooseberry Falls, so coming up with a trip that involved more state parks, more rivers, and more waterfalls was kind of a no-brainer - this trip was right up my alley.  Thankfully, my family was excited to do it too, so we began making arrangements for it a few months ago.

Falls on the Beaver River, Beaver Bay

Last week, the time came, and we journeyed north to spend the first day of the trip at Gooseberry Falls (click on any of the photos below to enlarge).  There really is no other place in Minnesota like Gooseberry Falls.  It must be one of the most majestic, interesting, picturesque, and fun places in our state.  It's magical.  We spent the day there, climbing the rocks along the waterfalls, looking for agates, and wading through the raging river (it really was raging - I'm not sure I've ever seen the rivers more swollen in the summer months than I did last week).  Later on that day, we went to Beaver Bay and explored the waterfalls that empty into Lake Superior there and, of course, looked for more agates.

High Falls, Tettegouche State Park

The next day, we went to Tettegouche state park and hiked back to the High Falls, which is actually quite a hike.  A bit of confusion led to an even longer hike to get back to our car, but it all worked out in the end.  This wasn't the first time I'd been to Tettegouche, so it wasn't a new experience, but the high falls are definitely impressive (it's the highest waterfall in Minnesota - more on that in a minute).

Falls at George Crosby Manitou State Park

From Tettegouche, we traveled to George Crosby Manitou state park and hiked back to those falls as well.  The hike was easier, and the view of the falls was even better than Tettegouche.  The falls at Manitou were, in my opinion, the most beautiful falls of the trip (aside from Gooseberry, of course).  I would like to go back to George Crosby Manitou and spend a lot more time there, hiking the trails and swimming in the river.  Some other year, I suppose.

Mouth of the Temperance River

From there we went on to Temperance River state park.  These falls are interesting, as there are some located almost right on the banks of Superior.  It's about a 30-second hike from the side of the highway to an observation bridge and you can see the falls.  (Little did I know, there is actually another waterfall located further back in the park called "Hidden Falls."  Unfortunately, the falls were sufficiently hidden and we never went back to see them.)  After Temperance, we wearily went to a nearby hotel, after about 8 miles of hiking.

Falls at Cascade River State Park

Bright and early on day three we went off to Cascade River state park and hiked the loop that went back to several waterfalls in succession.  The Cascade Falls won the distinction of "deadliest falls" in my opinion.  If one were to fall in the river and go down the several falls in succession, there would be no coming back.

Upper Falls, Judge C.R. Magnet State Park

Next was Judge C.R. Magney state park, with the Upper Falls and famous Devil's Kettle.  The Upper Falls were very impressive, as they were raging with immense flow, yet one was able to come within very close proximity of the falls.

The Devil's Kettle

The Devil's Kettle was also raging which, as it turns out, actually detracts from the viewing experience.  The Devil's Kettle is famous for splitting the Brule River in two, and taking one part of it down the "devil's kettle" - a hole in the rock that goes somewhere indeterminable.  No one knows where the water goes.  Legend has it that several have tried to determine its course by putting dye into the water to see if it comes out further on down the river, and even several hundred ping pong balls for the same effect, but to no avail.  Where the water goes is a mystery.  When we visited the Kettle, however, the water was raging so much that it was almost difficult to see the hole in the rock.  It would be more accurate to say that you could see water hitting a part of the rock and disappearing.  The Kettle wasn't visible from the observation deck.  Still, the hike to see the Upper Falls and Devil's Kettle were worth it, even though it involved a 180 stair climb!

High Falls, Grand Portage State Park

The trip culminated at Grand Portage state park, with perhaps the most majestic waterfall on the trip. The High Falls at Grand Portage are the highest falls in the state, although that statistic is misleading, as the falls are shared by Minnesota and Canada (this is what makes the High Falls at Tettegouche the highest waterfall in the state, whereas the High Falls at Grand Portage are both in Minnesota and Canada).  The hike back to these falls was easy, and was also paved - the only park we visited with a paved trail back to the waterfall.

Needless to say, at the end of our three-day journey, we had traversed some 150 miles, visited 7 state parks, and walked about 20 miles to see the waterfalls - we were tired!  But I, for one, would say that the effort was well worth it, and I would gladly do it all again.  In fact, I'd like to spend some time in the summers to come camping at each of these parks.

One thing that has occurred to me as a result of this trip is the magnificent thing that is the Minnesota State Parks.  If you think about it, you cannot get a better, cheaper vacation than visiting a state park.  All it costs is $25.00 for the vehicle permit, $20.00-$25.00 per night for camping, and however much you spend in gas to get there - that's it!  What a great deal.  And if you go to a good park, you will enjoy sightseeing that is quite simply top notch, and is not to be duplicated anywhere else in the state.  In the future, I want to take as much advantage of our state parks as possible.

Martin's Still Lost, but Taylor Came Home

A couple months ago my friend Martin was kidnapped.  Unfortunately, there has been no sign of him since the time of his disappearance.  I found a new friend yesterday, however, named Taylor.

Taylor was able to come and join our family because of the generosity of one of God's people who anonymously donated a significant chunk of money in order for me to be able to purchase a new guitar in the wake of my loss.  What a blessing!  Also, a friend kicked in an old gift card he had that was collecting dust that enabled me to get this particular guitar.

I knew I'd be getting a replacement for Martin, but I wasn't sure what it would be.  As I've said before, I have another Martin guitar, and I am very partial to the Martin brand.  They make great guitars, so my first choice was to get another Martin.  I went to ye olde guitar shoppe this weekend and tried out several that were in my price range.  I played a few Martins and a few Taylors.  Some sounded and played better than others.  Finally, I decided on a Martin that was made entirely out of mahogany, had a great tone, and had a very deep brown finish.  Then, the friend I took with me shopping told me to try the Taylor pictured above.  I had already played an almost identical guitar, but with a different finish, and decided against it.  The tone wasn't what I was looking for.  This Taylor, however, was different - it played and sounded almost exactly like what I wanted.  But there was a problem: it was a bit out of my price range.  That's when he pulled out his old gift card and insisted that I use it to purchase this guitar.  It was an incredibly kind gesture, and I'm grateful.  I told the salesman to wrap it up - I was getting that guitar.

While not a Martin, Taylor guitars are also very nice, sound great, and look great, as you can see.  I've never owned an acoustic guitar with a sunburst finish (one of my Strats has a sunburst, though), and the white binding on the edges makes it pop.  I got it home and did some more noodling on it.  I'm excited to play it more as time goes on.

Precious Sister Pat

In most people's lives, a person can probably count on one hand the people who have had an indelible influence on his life.  I have had those people involved in my life, and I am thankful for them.  Unfortunately, this past week, I have one less.  My childhood music and violin teacher, Sister Pat Binko, passed away last week.

When I was about 6 years old, I began taking piano lessons from a nun who was, shall we say, less than happy to be working with children.  I recall getting my hands slapped on the keyboard several times when I made mistakes, and just a general attitude of disgust toward me when I didn't excel as quickly as she had hoped.  Granted, I'm sure my remembrance of these times is a bit overblown due to my tender age and immaturity at the time, but even in my memories, it was a significantly negative experience.  As a result, I convinced my mom that I should not play piano, but should instead follow in the footsteps of my older sister and take up violin.  Soon thereafter, at the age of 8, I began taking violin lessons from another nun - Sister Pat.  Little did I know that I would remain under her instruction for the next 10 years, and that those 10 years would have a lasting impact on my life.

Each week (September through May) I went to Sister Pat's school of music for an hour-long lesson in the Suzuki method of violin.  Each lesson consisted of playing through the prescribed songs, working on music theory, and just general life-encouragement from Sister Pat.  Weekly lessons were complimented by monthly "Play-Ins" where all of Sister Pat's students would get together to perform an informal concert of sorts - mostly just for parents.  Students were sectioned out by their level in the Suzuki method and played songs from the book they were in.  Additionally, from time to time, Sister Pat scheduled other informal concerts at local nursing homes.  When you factored in at-home practice times (which, to be honest, there should have been more of), my life was full of violin and music.

As time went on, I began to realize that I had something of a natural talent for musical things.  In high school I went on to also play the string bass in the school orchestra, in the Greater Twin Cities Youth Symphony, and bass guitar in school productions, talent shows, and garage bands.  I also played first chair violin in the school orchestra, played with a touring high school musical group called "Fiddles & Friends" (along with all the cool kids) and took elective musical theory classes in my later high school years.  At church, I joined the worship team and played bass guitar.  In my freshman year of college I declared a minor in music, but later dropped out when I discovered the immense workload.  However, I also joined the college worship team, and played regularly there.  It was also in college that I took up guitar, teaching myself based on the musical knowledge I had gained throughout y childhood.  Guitar led to banjo, which led to the tin whistle, the harmonica, drums, and so on and so forth, which led to songwriting, arranging, playing in semi-serious bands, etc., etc.  Put simply, music had become perhaps the biggest thing in my life.

By this time, my regular violin playing diminished significantly.  I had completed the Suzuki method (all 10 books!) before graduating high school, and was no longer taking lessons from Sister Pat.  I still played violin at church once in a while, but not too often.  My musical studies began to move more toward sacred music and music for worship, and worship theory.  Most, if not all of this study was independent, but I have learned a ton since having graduated high school.

As I reflect on my musical growth and experiences throughout my life, it is crystal clear to me that the foundation for everything that I have done or accomplished, musically speaking, was the teaching I received at the hand of Sister Pat.  She saw my natural ability and nurtured it through the violin and through theory in ways that no public school teacher would have been able to.  Sister Pat had a no-nonsense approach to learning and practicing violin, but was also easy-going enough to teach her students that the main purpose of creating music was fun and joy and using the gifts that God has given us for good things.  She also emphasized the spiritual component of creating music, which was something unique about her, although now that I'm an adult I would probably differ from her teachings in a few ways.  Sister Pat also emphasized the "why" of music.  In other words, she knew that teaching theory was just as important as teaching technique.  From what I know of most music teachers today, this distinction no longer exists, which I think is a shame.

After graduating from high school, I mostly lost contact with Sister Pat.  I would see her once every few years, just coincidentally.  She always stayed in contact with our family however, through Christmas cards and whatnot.  A few years ago I was at Menards buying something - I can't recall what - when I heard a familiar voice behind me, and it was none other than Sister Pat.  We made small talk, but I was able to thank her one last time for the monumental influence she had in my life over the majority of my childhood.  That was the last time I saw her in person.  Although we lost touch pretty much after I graduated from high school, the impact she had on my life cannot be overstated.  I am grateful to God for how he used her to influence me.

Sister Pat also had several mannerisms that set her apart.  She was always upbeat and outgoing, and always seemed to be genuinely concerned about what was going on in our lives.  One of her catch phrases was to say, "Well isn't that precious!"  It was more of an exclamation than a question.  She would say that whenever she heard or saw something funny or unique.

Her frequent use of the word "precious," and her recent passing, makes me think of Psalm 116.15: "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints."  From her obituary, I learned that Sister Pat became a nun at the age of 18.  We never got into any significantly deep theological conversations during my relationship with her (and at the time, I was neither knowledgeable nor mature enough to have one), so I'm not sure of her spiritual state.  She certainly professed faith within the Roman Catholic tradition, but I don't know what her personal spiritual beliefs were.  It is my hope that it can be truly said of her: "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints."  I hope that she is in heaven at this moment, doing what she loved before the Lord Jesus.  That would be precious.

Martin Has Been Kidnapped

About a month ago, on a Sunday morning, a member of our worship team at Riverview showed up at the church around 8:00 AM for rehearsal.  In the parking lot of the church, laying uncased and unprotected in the parking lot, was a worn down, beat up guitar.  The worship team member collected the guitar and brought it in the church for further examination.  It was in rough shape.  The back of the guitar was separated from the ribbing in places, and someone had put two large pieces of plastic in place where the saddle and the nut should be (the saddle and nut elevate the strings off the fretboard to make the guitar playable).  Put simply, this guitar had seen much better days.  We all marveled at the DIY repairs that had been done, and then one of the team members put it in his car to use it for spare parts.

Cut to nine days later - the following Monday.  A member of our church showed up in the late afternoon to do some painting in one of the rooms at the church that needed to be done.  As he arrived at the church, he noticed a man sitting on the steps in front of the church.  When he asked if there was anything the man needed help with, he replied that he needed entry into the church in order to get his guitar.  Not knowing the man or the validity of his story, the Riverview member denied him access and went about his business of painting.

The following day, Tuesday, the same Riverview member arrived back at the church to complete the painting job that he had started on Monday.  When he arrived in the parking lot, he noticed the same man he had seen the day before, walking through a wooded area across the street from the church with a guitar case in hand.  Thinking nothing of it, he went back to his task of painting.

The day after that, Wednesday, I went to prepare for leading our Family Night Worship Service at Riverview.  In doing so, I set up a lectern, put out the bulletins for the service, and get my guitar ready to lead the singing.  As I went to retrieve my guitar from the back room, I couldn't find it.  This, however, did not alarm me, as it is not uncommon for my guitar to be moved to a different room or to be used by someone else without my knowledge.  Also, a crew of guys from the church had been working in the room where my guitar was stored, tearing out and replacing carpeting, so it seemed natural that one of them had moved it in the process.  Again, without much alarm, I retrieved a backup guitar that I store on the premises and used it during the service.

Once the service had concluded I began to ask around to see if anyone might know where my missing guitar had ended up, but nobody had any idea where it might be.  The guys who had been working in the room denied that they had moved the guitar in the course of their work, and even denied seeing it in the back room.  After some more asking around, I learned about the man who had been to the church on Monday and Tuesday of that week, and how he had been spotted carrying a guitar case early Tuesday evening through the woods across the street, and the pieces began to fall into place.

About a week later, due to some technical difficulties, I was finally able to access the security camera footage at Riverview.  We have security cameras placed at each of the entrances to the church, and in some of the hallways.  What I saw on the video was the man pictured at left.  On Tuesday, April 26, he and a female accomplice entered the building during business hours (so the church was unlocked). They spent about 20 minutes exploring the church, walking down the hallways, perusing the food shelf and library, and ultimately winding their way back to the music room where my guitar was stored.  After taking the guitar, he departed on foot and went directly to the wooded area across the street where he was observed by the volunteer painter described earlier.

After seeing this all unfold on our security camera footage, and considering the crystal clear images we had of his face, I contacted the West St. Paul police and filed a report.  I was happy to see that one of the reporting officers was one that I had met previously through my involvement in the police chaplaincy program.  The officers were very pleased that we had visual evidence of the crime, and they assured me that they would hand the case over to their investigators.  So far, I'm not sure how much progress has been made on apprehending the thief or retrieving my property, but I remain optimistic.

But it doesn't end there.

On Tuesday afternoon of this week I began to feel ill.  Stomach cramps on Tuesday made way to diarrhea on Wednesday, which knocked me out of leading the Family Night Worship Service this week (which I am bummed about, considering it was our last service of the year).  About 7:00 that evening I received a call from someone who was at the church and who had seen the above photo of the burglar.  He told me that the burglar had returned to the scene of the crime and was at the church at that very moment.  I quickly slipped out of my bathrobe (remember, I was sick) and into some clothes and went over to the church.  By the time I had arrived, I was told that the man left on foot.  I went out into the parking lot and saw someone duck into the same woods across the street that the man had been reported in previously.  I called the police and told them about the incident.

But the interesting thing is how the man interacted with others when he returned to the church last Wednesday evening.  As he came into the building, he immediately began to shake hands of all he came into contact with, and introduced himself to each one as Jesus Christ.  That's right: he claimed to be God in the flesh.  Clearly this man is not in his right mind, which makes this even more sad.

The guitar that was stolen was a Martin (I can't remember the model number).  I bought it second-hand from a friend, who was offloading his gear to help cover the costs of one of his kids' weddings (the sacrifices we guitarists make!).  The guitar is unique in that the body is made of an entirely composite material.  In other words, it's not made of wood.  The only wood on the whole guitar is the neck and fretboard.  The rest is essentially plastic.  Regardless of this fact, the guitar plays like a dream.  In fact, it was easily my best playing guitar.  I have another Martin (DCX1E) that is my best sounding guitar, but it doesn't match the playability of the one that was stolen.  To be sure, Martin guitars are very nice, and most players aspire to own one.  I owned two, and I still have one.  I am a very blessed, fortunate person - even in light of having been robbed.

If possible, I hope I can get my guitar back, as it was my "go-to" guitar - the one that I played in most circumstances as it was accessible, easy to play, and pretty much the right instrument for any occasion.  I have no desire to press charges or see the man who stole it prosecuted for the offense - I'd just like my guitar back!  I even have the one that he left in the parking lot - the old beat up junker.  I'd be happy to make the trade.

What Carnival Games Teach Us About Knowing the Truth

When I was a kid, my favorite part of any fair or carnival was the Midway.  I was enraptured by the allure of the potential of winning an over-sized stuffed animal from a seemingly simple game.  My parents, however, wouldn't give me any money to play the games - I had to save up and use my own.  So off to the Midway I went whenever my family visited the Minnesota State Fair, usually with about $10.00 of my own hard-earned money burning a hole in my pocket.  Usually, all it took was about 5 minutes and a few failed attempts at achieving over-sized-stuffed-animal-glory for my money to be gone.  When this happened, I remember always feeling flabbergasted that I couldn't win the game.  After all, the game operators made it look and sound so easy - what gives?

The problem was, of course, that I was being deceived (plus I'm not any good at carnival games).  The game operators were assuring me that winning the game was easy, and that I could certainly be successful at it if I just put my money down and gave it my best shot.  Of course, they didn't actually believe that, but that's what they told me to draw me in.  Once in a while, one of them would even complete the task of the game as an example of how easy it was.  The truth, however, was quite different: those games are not easy, and they are mostly rigged to create losers rather than winners.  I was duped.  I believed the lie that I could win the game and achieve over-sized stuffed animal greatness.

Don't get me wrong: it was nobody's fault but mine that I got suckered in to shelling out my lawn-mowing money for no return.  I should have known better.  I should have learned from all of the empty hands and wallets of other Midway goers that the dream of being a King of the Midway was not easily fulfilled.  But when you're a kid with money in his pocket and no over-sized stuffed animal waiting for you at home, it's hard to tell a lie from the truth.

This is similar to the challenge that we face as Christians in navigating all of the truth claims that are perpetuated by our society.  We are constantly assaulted with various, and some times conflicting, truth claims.  And just like the promise of an over-sized stuffed animal will entice a 10 year old boy to believe the lie that winning the carnival game is easy, the truth claims offered by our society and other religious systems are often attractive and appealing - even if they aren't true.  It can be hard to see the truth through all the lies.

The same was true for the church to which the Apostle John wrote the first letter that bears his name.  There were false teachers influencing the church and teaching doctrines that did not accord with Christ and the gospel.  In order to help them know what was true and what was false, John instructed his readers to "test the spirits." (1 John 4.1)  By "spirits" John means "truth claims."  If you want to know what is true, you just can't accept something on its face.  Its veracity needs to be tested and verified before you should believe it.  John gives his readers a two-part rubric for testing truth claims, and some counsel as to how they can overcome false truth claims in their lives.  This text was the focus of our message at Riverview this past week.  Check it out here.

In John's day there were several false teachers who denied certain things about the humanity and divinity of Jesus.  You had some false teachers who claimed that Jesus never came in the flesh.  His body wasn't real - it was just a mirage.  And you had other false teachers who claimed that Jesus was not fully God, or that he wasn't actually divine at all - he was just a man.  Because of these false teachings, John instructs his readers to evaluate the truth claims of those who would purport to be teachers by asking this question: "Did Jesus Christ come in the flesh?" (1 John 4.2)  The answer to this question, John says, will help his readers and early Christians to evaluate the truthfulness of the claims made by the teachers in their day.  While the question may have changed a bit here and there between John's day and our own, the principle is the same: when someone makes a truth claim, find out what they believe about Jesus.  What they believe about him will either authenticate or disqualify other spiritual truth claims they make.

A second test that John instructs his readers to perform is to ask the question: "Will they listen to us?" (1 John 4.6)  By "us" John means "the church."  In other words, if someone comes along teaching about spiritual things, will that person submit his teaching and himself to the authority of the church?  God has given the church the authority to stand in judgment over theological truth claims.  Those who would make such claims will willingly submit themselves and their teachings to the authority of the church and the word of God.  The messages and claims of those who will not submit to this authority are to be rejected.  In these ways, John says that we can "test the spirits" in order to know the Spirit of God.

In addition to the two tests that John gives, the early church began to develop other ways that they could test truth claims - especially truth claims about spiritual things - namely, creeds.  A creed is a solid, stated position of doctrine and beliefs - the foundational parts of the Christian faith.  The early church developed creeds as a way of knowing and standing upon the foundations of the faith - those things they knew for sure to be true.  This way, when someone came along with a new idea or teaching, that idea or teaching was compared to the creeds.  If the new idea or teaching matched the core beliefs of the church as expressed in the creeds, it was accepted.  If not, it was rejected.  Creeds were essential for early Christians to be able to know truth from falsehood.  Throughout church history, several creeds were developed in order to help the church "test the spirits." (For a deeper exposition on the various elements of the Apostle's Creed, see here.)

The Apostle's Creed - the earliest known creed of the church (which we recited together at Riverview this past week) - was in use as early as the fourth century A.D., but was probably written much earlier than that.  Other creeds, such as the Nicene Creed and the Athanasian Creed have helped the church identify false teachings and teachers and protect the truth of God throughout the church's history.

Creeds are still used in the church today, although more as a liturgical act of worship than as a defense of the faith or as an aid for determining the truth of various claims and worldviews that circulate in our world.  Instead, we now have access to the greatest truth-filter of all time: the word of God.  If we are knowing the word and what it says about the story of God through Christ, we will be able to navigate the truth claims that we encounter in this life.  That being said, we still affirm much of what is written in the creeds of church history, and there is value to knowing them.

This world provides us with a multitude of different truth claims and worldviews that challenge what we believe and how we see the world, and many of them are false, yet are hard to identify as being so.  The world is very good at making lies look good, and at convincing us to believe things that are simply not true.  Thankfully, God has given us a timeless standard through his word to be able to "test the spirits" and know him in truth.

Some Thoughts About Baseball

It's been no secret on this site that I am a huge baseball fan.  I love the sport.  I played it when I was a kid, and I continue to follow the local nine into my adulthood.  I particularly enjoy listening to baseball games on the radio (which, as it happens, is the only way for me to have access to baseball games, since I don't have cable television).  Today in my Facebook feed the Minnesota Twins posted the above image, noting that Santana's number equaled the amount of days until opening day, and I got excited.  I can't wait for another year of baseball.  Aside from my general excitement about baseball, it seems as though the sport has come up in my life in a few ways over the past week or so, so I thought I'd put fingers to keyboard to keep track of them for posterity.

1. Last week I called the commissioner of the local city baseball league and asked him if there was still time to sign up my son to play baseball this summer (sign ups were in early January - oops).  He said there was, and I should meet him at the local community center to get signed up.  The commissioner of the league also happens to be my coach from my 1993 team, when I played for the White Sox.  I enjoyed getting together with him again - and he even remembered me!  It was fun to see him, and I'm excited that Jamie will get to play in a league that he's running, since he's a great guy and was a great coach for me.  He really helped me grow as a player.  I especially remember one time when I was in a slump (which was odd for me, as I was - in my own humble opinion - the best hitter on the team), he made me practice bunting.  He wouldn't allow me to swing the bat, but just hold it out there to make contact with the ball.  It was incredibly humbling and I felt like such a loser just having to practice bunting instead of swinging away.  But he knew what he was doing, and it got me out of my slump.  If I could go back and relive a year of my life, it would be that year, and it would be for the purpose of playing on that team again.

2. I read an article just today that Challies linked to that gave 10 reasons why parents should have their kids play city ball rather than traveling ball.  Based on my experience as a player when I was a kid, and a bit in high school, and now as a parent, I think he's absolutely right.  City ball is where kids can grow for their love of the game and actually have fun instead of having to perform or to work to the extent that the game isn't fun anymore.  Before my fabled 1993 season I tried out for the West St. Paul traveling team.  I didn't make the cut, and I was told after that there was some discrepancy that was due to the fact that I wanted to play baseball in West St. Paul but actually lived in St. Paul.  Anyway, I was cut from the traveling team and relegated to a city team.  This was the best thing that could have possibly happened to me, for several reasons, some of which I've described in point 1 above.  But also, the city team I played for that year was absolutely phenomenal.  It was coached by John Pelano (the aforementioned current commissioner of the West St. Paul league) and was made up of (presumably) all of the kids that didn't make the traveling team.  For whatever reason, we were an unstoppable force.  We annihilated every other city team.  Coach Pelano even entered our city team into traveling league tournaments around the Twin Cities (this was not part of the city league program, but we were so good that he shopped us around to traveling tournaments), and we won every single game.  We were undefeated in city league play and even in the traveling tournaments.  In hindsight, I'm grateful that I didn't make the traveling team.  If I had, I almost certainly wouldn't have had as good a year as I had with the White Sox.  I hope my son will have a similar experience some time in his childhood.

3. Last week I started reading listening to the book Moneyball by Michael Lewis.  A movie of the same title was later released.  I realize I'm extremely late to the game when it comes to this book and its subject matter, but I just happened across a copy of the audio book, and I figured that it's about baseball so I would probably enjoy it.  I saw the movie when it came out too.  If you're not aware, the book is about making baseball decisions via an "objective" standard such as statistics rather than on impressions of talent, and how this process played out in the Oakland A's baseball club in the early 2000's.  It's a fascinating read, although I have to admit that I am not totally sold on the idea of saber metrics as being a reliable method for managing baseball teams (in fact, I'm not convinced that an "objective" method for managing baseball teams is even possible, as so much of the game is psychological - even though I know there are many who disagree with that).  I'm also aware that I'm very late to the party when it comes to this discussion, but who cares.  For one, I don't see the formula developed by Billy Bean as having paid off in the long run.  The A's still aren't that great, and haven't been.  And many of the players that Bean drafted as a result of his formulas haven't panned out - not even by a long shot.  I'm sure there are counters to these arguments, and I'd be interested to know them.  Sure, there are some benefits to using saber metrics (such as infield/outfield shifts), but I can't see operating the whole game by them.  There's just too much psychological unpredictability, and that's part of what makes baseball so unique and such a great game.

4. Finally, related to the item above, is this interesting article I read a few weeks ago.  It talks about the decline of the use of pitch-outs, sacrifice bunts, and intentional walks in major league baseball, arguing that, statistically speaking, none of these things is worth doing in the long run - that is, they serve no advantageous purpose to a baseball team.  I read the article, and I understand the statistics, but it seems to me that the statistics fail to take into account (in the case of pitch-outs) the psychological affect it has on the runner: perhaps he's less inclined to run if he knows a pitch-out is possible.  There's only so much statistics can do and predict.  Baseball is a very psychological game (consider, for example, the incredible "mind game" played by the pitcher and the batter over each pitch.)  Also, if teams begin to not us the pitch-out, sacrifice bunt, and intentional walk, soon nobody will sue them, and then using them would become sort of a "trick play," catching the offense/defense off guard, thereby creating an advantage (such as the famous "Eephus Pitch" - it's ridiculous, but nobody expects it, so it works!)  My prediction: pitch-outs, sacrifice bunts, and intentional walks will always be a part of the game even if they aren't statistically advantageous.  They're still part of the incredible mind game that is baseball.

Bring on opening day!

A Peculiar Public Interest

I've been blogging here and there, on a semi-regular basis (with several month or even year gaps between posts sometimes!) since 2008.  Five years ago today, I wrote a post on this blog called "Hamstring the Horses and Burn the Chariots."  Little did I know when I wrote that post that, of the 507 published posts on my blog, it would become far and away the most popular and most viewed post that I'd write.  It's a comparatively short post, and not necessarily deep, but I suppose it is interesting - at least interesting enough to me for me to have written it.

That post has received more than 2,100 unique views since I wrote it (small potatoes for most blogs, but significant for mine).  In November alone the post was viewed 132 times.  The second most-viewed post I've written comes in at 831 total unique views, so the difference in views is significant.  How do people find this post on my blog?  It turns out that a lot of them have Googled a question about the text in Joshua that relays God's command to Joshua to hamstring the horses and burn the chariots of the opposing armies that Israel will face.  For instance, at least 129 people have clicked over to my post because they've Googled a question about those verses, with the search terms "hamstring a horse," "hamstring horses," and "hamstring horses in Bible" being the most frequently used.  Apparently people find God's commands to hamstring the horses and burn the chariots of Israel's enemies rather peculiar.

I've preached on this text before as well, and when I did I received a few comments from people at my church about how they cringe at the thought of hamstringing horses, as this seems to be a barbaric practice, at best.  Apparently a reader thought so as well, and commented on the original post: "...this method of hamstringing is nothing but torcher [sic].  If they were to take the time to hamstring these animals it would have been just as easy to kill them and put them out of their misery.  You can't even begin to realize the agony these animals endured."  I don't doubt that it was very unpleasant for the horses.  But regardless of how we feel about the animals, we need to realize the point of the command God gave: trust in me, not in horses.

Kind of neat, and a good reminder for me to continue not trusting in horses and chariots.

The Lot In My Lap

Today was the big day: the day the people of Riverview voted whether to extend a call to me to be the next pastor of Riverview or to look elsewhere.  After a spirited business meeting, the vote was taken and the measure passed by a significant margin.  The church's constitution states that a pastor must receive 75% of a congregational vote in order for a call to be extended, and the results came in well over that mark.

The agenda for the meeting allowed for questions and comments from the congregation as to the motion to be voted upon with me being present in the room, and then a second period of questions and comments from the congregation without me being present.  After that, the congregation would vote.

There were several people who spoke, and I was very encouraged by each and every one of them.  Although some of the comments expressed concerns about me becoming the senior pastor, I believe they came from a thoughtful and prayerful attitude, and were generated with my best interests at heart.  To that extent, I am grateful that the people of Riverview thought clearly and considered me in their thinking.  Truly, I am generally grateful for all who expressed concern.

When I recruit people for volunteer ministry positions at Riverview, I generally send them a letter telling them about the need in the church, and how we've arrived upon them as a potential candidate to fill the volunteer position.  I always end the letter by stating that regardless of their decision to volunteer in this capacity or not, we will rejoice what what they decide to do or not do.  Because if a person has come upon a decision prayerfully and with introspection, the decision they come to has been arrived upon through God's guidance.  And any time people are seeking God in their decision making, it's a winning situation.

To this extent, I was fine with whatever decision the congregation made.  Certainly being the senior pastor of Riverview is something that I am desiring to do, and something I think that I am able to do.  But if the people came to the decision that I am not the best fit for Riverview at this time through a well-thought, prayerful process, then I would rejoice in that decision.  That being said, I am glad that the vote came out the way it did!

I was also humbled by all of the people who spoke up in support for me in the position.  By God's grace, I will be able to live up to everything you said about me.  Please pray for me to that end.  Thank you.

Two comments in particular stood out to me, and interestingly enough, neither of these comments were particularly positive or negative toward extending a call to me.  One comment I thought was very wise, but perhaps not very Baptistic in the sense that Baptists are known for their congregational government - that is, the congregation is king - they have the final vote.  This commenter said that she had decided to trust the church's leadership.  The Deacons and the Church Council (in addition to the recommendation of the regional minister) had unanimously recommended me as a candidate for the position.  She was choosing to trust that the leadership came to their recommendation thoughtfully and prayerfully, and she was choosing to follow their recommendation.  While I affirm congregational church governance, I think there is wisdom to this thinking.  As Baptists, we elect and approve leaders whom we believe are gifted in such a way as to occupy leadership positions.  It is reasonable (and biblical) to assume that these folks are thinking well and biblically when it comes to decisions and recommendations like these.  I thank God for people who are humbly willing and able to submit to their leaders.

The second comment that I thought was very helpful at the meeting had to do with the encouragement of one member to the congregation to submit themselves to God's decision, whatever that might be.  The encouragement was for the congregation to realize that God is sovereign, and that the outcome of the vote would be an indication of his will, and that we should accept it as his will and submit to it.  This is wisdom, and I was thankful for the admonition to us all to submit ourselves to God's authority.

At the end of the day (which it is, 11:30 PM as I write this) God is sovereign, and he seems to have directed the people of Riverview in a certain way.  If God allows, I will bear this responsibility and have the distinct honor and privilege of leading the people of Riverview as their pastor.  May he strengthen me to that end.