Some of those goodies that I found en route to somewhere else…

• The CEO next door
• Religious activity without real transformation: when your church isn’t working

Though I feel afraid of territory unknown,
I know that I can say that I do not stand alone;
For Jesus, You have promised your presence in my heart�
I cannot see the ending but it�s here that I must start.

And all I know is You have called me,
And that I will follow is all I can say.
I will go where You will send me,
And Your fire lights my way

What lies across the waves may cause my heart to fear;
Will I survive the day; must I leave what’s known and dear?
A ship that’s in the harbour is still and safe from harm,
But it was not built to be there, it was made for wind and storm.

-Ian White, �All I Know,� from the CD Encounter: Live at Usher Hall

Yep! You read that right…George W. Bush, Causer of All Things Bad in the Whole Wide World, is sending another storm to the coast of the United States! It is, after all, all the President’s fault, right?

Dang! With all the power and abilities he has…oh, never mind!

(Tongue removed from cheek…)

Everyone’s favorite Canadian has this poignant post about a local church that had once thrived in his neighborhood…

…when we moved in six years ago, you couldn’t get near the church. It was thriving and was doing all sorts of crazy servant evangelism things that our neighborhood loved and people responded too. Later on and a couple priests later, it was dead and for the life of me, I can’t even remember the name of the place.

I probably shouldn’t even do this, because it’ll just make Gary Lamb’s head swell even more, but you can hear “The Gary” in all his glory over at BloggingChurch.com.

OK, just to keep him humble, you can see what “The One and Only Gary Lamb” looks like while you’re listening to him by mashing here, here, here, and here…

Seriously, Gary’s a good friend, who gives way more than he takes. He encourages me every time we get together. And he’s doing a great work leading Ridge Stone Church.

(Now if he’d only get his facts straight about who turned him on to blogging and who put him in touch with Terry Storch, he’d be better!)

In fact, it was pretty dang ugly! But at least, it wasn’t FSWho? having last-minute field goal problems against Miami. It was the other way around!

Said Coach Bobby Bowden…

We finally stole one from them like they’ve been stealing them from us. It’s about time.

Note to Coach Bowden: I love ya, man, and I guess I’ll always be a Seminole fan at heart, but it just may not be a real good idea to put “stole” and “stealing” as a good thing in the same sentence when you’re talking about your team. Just a thought, Coach, based on past history. They don’t call ’em “CrimiNoles” for nothing, you know.

That, my friend, is jazz!
-Bill the Bassist, Florida State University, 1978

A double-shot tonight! Listening to arguably the best jazz album ever made, and reading a pretty definitive account of the making of that album. Author Ashley Kahn writes about his introduction to Kind of Blue…

My own discovery of the music came in the mid-seventies, when a high-school buddy yanked a dog-eared album out of my father’s record collection and explained: “This is a classic.” Between the scratches and the pops (Dad must play this one a lot, I recall thinking) a stark, moody world unveiled itself. Though the sound was far simpler and sadder than any of the peppy, big band music I then thought of as jazz, it was somehow immediately familiar.

If you are already a fan of the album, perhaps a “first time” story of your own comes to mind. Or ask the friend who turned you on to Kind of Blue. Bring that memory with you to the world we’re about to enter. Use this book as a primer, a listening guide, a way to understand that there is even more to these forty minutes of great jazz performance than meets the ear. Allow this book to show you that occasionally that which is the least outspoken has the most to say.

Get the picture…September 1978, first floor, Broward Hall, Florida State University, Tallahassee, Florida. Getting to know the guys who made up our own “unofficial fraternity” in the fire-exit isolated section of the dorm.

Next door on one side, Chris, in a custodian-closet-turned-dorm-room. (I’m not really sure after all these years whether Chris actually was a student or a squatter.)

Next door on the other side, James (a math geek) and Mark (an early computer geek, who once sailed with Jimmy Buffett).

Across the hall, Vince (straight out of The Godfather!) and Non-Descript John.

And next door to Vince and John, Rick (pre-med, Mr. Florida contestant, owner of two snakes) and Bill the Bassist. Bill the Bassist, who laughed at my alleged cool sophistication because I “liked jazz.” Bill the Bassist, who good-naturedly mocked Stan Kenton and Maynard Ferguson. Bill the Bassist, who brought out exotic albums by people named Coltrane, Shepp, Monk, Gordon, Mingus, and of course, Miles.

When he brought Kind of Blue over and put it on my turntable, my idea of jazz and the trumpet changed forever. And that album, long since worn out, now replaced by a CD, already old the first time I heard it, still holds a kind of magic like no other.

David Reid is one of my Redneck Pastor buds. Check out this realistic post over at his blog…

We must remember what Jesus did while on earth (John 9:1-11). He chose compassion and action over philosophy about the cause…can we do less?

Satan tricked us, and the world’s been messed up ever since…it’s not fair, it’s not right, it’s tragic beyond belief…but “God sent forth His Son” and He is in the process, in His timing, setting everything right. As C.S. Lewis said on losing his wife, “The pain now is part of the joy then.”

A comforting thought to me is that Heaven won’t have hurricanes.

Even so, come Lord Jesus.

Check out some of David’s other Katrina-related posts whole you’re over there…

Like many – most – people I know, I’ve had a helpless feeling gnawing at me since the beginning of the week. As I look at the pictures from New Orleans, Mississippi, and right here in our own neck of the woods, I get more and more sad and depressed. Then I hear the bozos – on all sides – start politicizing the situation, and I get almost nauseous.

My first instinct – like that of many people – is to say “What can I do? How can I get personally involved in what’s going on?” Then I hear the pleas for financial assistance , and I think, “There you go. That’s what to do – write a check!” But then, the feeling of copping out hits. You know, that weird sense of “Yeah, just go ahead and write that check. That’ll relieve your guilt and give you a good excuse for not getting in your car and heading to the hardest-hit areas.” And I get torn again.

But, at the risk of sounding like a cop-out, or a coward, or a heathen, or worse, I think, at this point, the writing-a-check thing may just be the best course of action I can take. This article from Baptist Press sums up what I’ve been thinking the last couple of days.

Yes, I would be interested in going to New Orleans, or Mississippi, or somewhere else. But when I contemplate that course of action, I’m struck with the realistic idea that that’s exactly what they don’t need there – another person in an already unmanageable crowd of humanity. I’d just be another statistic.

Yes, I’m willing to go and do hands-on ministry, but there are people who are actually trained – well-trained, even – to do just that. They don’t need me in their way. Besides, I probably couldn’t get into the worst-affected areas anyway.

Yes, I’m willing to load up materials that I think the victims could use. But I’m looking at what I think they could use from my high and dry perspective, not from the perspective of the people who are in place there already. (I’m reminded of the reports of people sending discarded fur coats to the tsunami areas last year.)

There are a lot of reasons why I should go in person. And there are just as many – or more – reasons why I’ll be writing a check or two and encouraging those I know to do the same. I can pray here. And after all, it’s the condition of my heart, not the location of my body, that matters in prayer. Those who know what they’re doing will do what they’re supposed to do, and those who need their help will be served in the most effective way possible.

Your mileage may vary…