This semester has been an interesting one class-wise. I’m taking Dr. Stephen Johnson’s Preaching Skills and Strategies class. I have to admit, I wouldn’t want to take a preaching class with anyone but him. He gets the function of preaching. So often, preaching becomes about perfunctory presentation for the pew-sitters. Preachers, for fear of losing their jobs, have to placate the crowd, and especially their big contributors, if they want to keep a paycheck.

That’s just not how I see earliest preaching functioning.

Peter, Paul, Apollos, and more found themselves out in the market square gathering a crowd that believed in non-violently resisting the powers of systematic oppression in their society. It involved pointing to a hope that was beyond human ability (we can’t pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps when we’re sinking in the quicksand of Sin). Christ’s resurrection was the focal point of the sermon’s hope in Acts, but rarely was it followed by an invitation song.

When I think about someone today who is doing biblical preaching, I think about Steve Connell. This is a guy who pounds the earth with gospel truth, and leaves everyone from Christians to lesbians to Communists nodding and shouting in agreement. His passion is mixed with his genius, and it remains on display for the world to see.

It sounds more like poetry or hip-hop than a heady lecture, and it deals with issues facing the world, (like climate change, the oil crisis, or slum lords), rather than the irrelevant issues most churches squabble over. Listen to this one to get a feel for what I mean:

Recently he and a few of his comrades came to ACU. Bruce George, Steve Connell and others can be found on HBO’s Def-Poetry. A highly provocative, free-flowing poetry SLAM! It has become a place for open expression in a culture that prioritizes brand-name conformity.

Stephen Johnson said in class last week that he saw Def-Poetry as the “future of preaching.” I’m inclined to believe him. He wants to spend the next 10-15 years of his career devoted to studying what this kind of preaching might do for churches, but more importantly, what it might do for the whole world.

Finally, someone got me thinking positive about preaching again. Way to go Dr. Johnson.

So our lives have been ex-TV for the last two weeks. I’m proud to say I’m not desperately foaming at the mouth, and Katrina and I aren’t about to claw our eyes out from the boredom. In fact, we’ve had more silence and peace around here than we’ve had in awhile. We’ve had a chance to read more, to talk over meals, and to pray together. The best part about us getting rid of our TV is the story - so if you don’t mind, let me indulge:

We’d been trying to pawn off our TV for several months, each time chickening out - coming up with some excuse why we still needed it. It wasn’t until our good friends were putting on a garage sale that we finally worked up enough courage to pull the plug on our TV habit.

Let me tell you, hauling a 27 inch TV down a flight of stairs and shoving it into a two door car is not an easy job - but we did it. Then we hauled it out into the middle of a field (the “best” place for a garage sale…where’s the garage!?!) and set it up next to all the other stuff we could bear to part with.

Browsers and perusers kept eying the TV, but there were no takers. One lady “bought” it, but when she illegedly tried to “plug it into her car” it wouldn’t turn on. DUH. I’m not sure what that was all about, but we were happy to give her her money back when she started yelling profusely.

Then came this great Hispanic couple. They wanted to buy our TV, but didn’t have enough to make the full purchase. It was the end of the day, and I wasn’t looking forward to carting that thing back to our upstairs apartment, not to mention have to deal with the ball and chain of a TV now that we finally felt free enough to sell it. So we sold it for less than it was worth, and even drove it up to their house for them. Their words were full of joy and excitement. They pointed to their family’s names in the concrete. I noticed a few Scripture verses scrawled into their front porch.

As I was installing the TV, the wife asked if I liked tamales. When I responded in the affirmative, she left the room and brought back a big stack of homemade tamales! She confessed she was embarrassed they couldn’t afford to pay what I was asking for the TV, but would like to pay for the rest in tamales. I loved it! Believe me, those tamales were a gift of hospitality, not just a payment for the TV. I feel like I could’ve hung out there all day. It was a real place of peace.  That’s how the world ought to work in my opinion.  A world where capitalism looses ground and communism is unnecessary.  A sharing and redistributing of personal resources, rather than living off cash.  It’s old school, but I like it.

So, much like giving away a puppy, I was glad to know that our TV was in the hands of a good family. I suppose that only reveals my covert TV idolizing, and reveals how happy I am that its out of our house.

Now its on to bigger and better things. God is too big for prime time.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately (and been hearing a lot lately) about how God speaks to us and through us. Last night I was reading from Eugene Peterson’s “Eat this Book”:

God speaks. When God speaks things happen. Holy Scripture opens with the words, “God said…” ringing out eight times, and after each sounding we see, piece by piece, one after another, elements of heaven and earth coming into being before our eyes and then climaxing in man and woman formed in the image of God. Psalm 33 compresses Genesis 1 into a sentence: “For he spoke, and it came to be…” (Ps. 33:9). That sets the stage for everything that follows in our Bibles, this profuse outpouring of commands and promises, blessings and invitations, rebukes and judgments, directing and comforting that makes up our Holy Scriptures. (p. 60)

God’s spoken words create. They bring us together. They always involve risk, and they always set us up for joy and peace. They seem to be spontaneous and never condemning. He is our Rock, and He is always here. He goes before us, and he is our shepherd. He is the only one who can truly and totally empathize with us. When everything else falls away, He remains.

I honestly can’t tell you the full range of my emotions right now. Having just returned home from the Martin Luther King Jr. Tribute, I am overwhelmed.

The evening began fine enough, dinner with old friends and new, white and black. I saw simple graces exchanged; a smile from a black man to a white man, a firm handshake, sharing desserts. I reminded myself not to drift back into comfortable conversation with my white friends, but that this was a dinner that was for cultivating all relationships.

We met in a church’s lobby for dinner, then moved into their auditorium for a presentation. We began in worship, with voices from nearly every tongue, tribe, and race in Abilene, TX. It was a picture of Revelation 7, where all people come together under their love for a common Father. Powerful. Videos of King’s life and dream were presented. I promise you: if I listened to his words every day, my whole world would fall apart and a new, vibrant world of God would emerge.

Martin Luther King had a dream, but 40 years ago today, someone killed the dreamer. He was assassinated in Memphis, TN while calling for worker rights. He was shot in the jaw; as if to silence his mouth from uttering another word. But his dream lives on. His words can still be heard - they were heard again tonight.

King “had been to the Mountaintop,” and he had pointed to the Promised Land - a land where all peoples could live in harmony together. But we as a country and as a world have spent the last 40 years in the wilderness.

We did not believe his dream. Like so many prophets before him, King was silenced by a doubter, and we listened to the lies of the mob rather than the passionate cries of the preacher.

Our schools and churches are more segregated now than they were 40 years ago. They are filled with more fear and hate than they were 40 years ago. And maybe worst of all, King’s message has message has been tamed, and his memory is confined to the naming of bridges and streets - many of which subtly demarcate boundaries of class and race.

We now stand after 40 years in the wilderness at the edge of the Promised Land. Much like the Israelites, we have seen a generation pass since Dr. King’s blood mixed with the blood of Christ’s in the pool of martyrs and saints. Where is our courage? What are our next steps? Where do we go from here? Can we have the courage to go where Dr. King was leading us? Knowing that his path led to his death? When will we have the dream so clearly in our minds, that it won’t matter if we see that dream realized alive or dead? How can we non-violently resist the principalities and powers that assail our nation, our communities, our own selves?

One of my fellow graduate students, Kavian, (the only black male in the GST,) spoke at the Tribute. His words were bold and provocative. They tore at my heart. I repented of participating in a system of sin that is so completely fused into our society. I begged the Lord for forgiveness, and feeling his intimate love, asked him for the power to seek only peace in the midst of a world of swords. Afterward I approached Kavian, who was speaking with a black student I had met a few days earlier. Feeling the move of the Spirit, I asked their forgiveness, got down on my knees, and told them I was so proud to be considered their brother in Christ. Tears welled up in my eyes, and theirs.

I write these words to proclaim God’s power. Outside of anything we could’ve accomplished on our own power, God’s dream (spoken through King) was spied by my heart for just a moment tonight. If it cannot start tonight, it will never start. We can’t wait for another Martin Luther King Jr. The revolution of love must continue in you, in me, and continue in all of us.

Taking a little breather from hammering away at my final school projects, I decided to tinker around on some favorite blogs.

A few things I found today:

- A good “overview” interview with Alan Hirsch on New Wineskins magazine. Who knew his religious heritage was the same as mine? I look forward to re-reading his and Frost’s stuff again once I graduate.

- The start of what will be a great discussion on the feasibility of non-industrialized food. Gotta love Josh Brown for bringing up the questions we were all asking, but didn’t have the photos/design to go along with it! His question: organic food may be planted in ways that sustain the earth, but is a whole world eating organic food sustainable?

- Finally, someone I can vote for!

- Rob delves into Richard Dawkins’ The Selfish Gene here. Meme’s are ideas that are pushed by societies down through generations. It is the phenomenon of the survival of ideas. Dawkins question: Is God nothing more than a meme? a viral idea?