Greg Fish
It's been almost a hundred years... A HUNDRED YEARS... since this country had a president like William Taft.
With all of the candidates talking change, reform, and renewal, I think it's time they also take a page from the past. I hereby call upon Barak Obama and John McCain to listen closely to what I'm about to say (yeah, right). Do you truly want to be men of difference? Do you truly want to make an impact? Here's what I now beseech you to do.
Grow facial hair.
Yes, it has been almost 100 years since this country has basked in the glory of a president with any form of whisker on his visage. President Taft sported the niftiest, bushiest mustache one could imagine. And Mr.s Obama and McCain, I do not want to suggest that a 'stash is all it takes. Go for the goatee. It's modern, it's hip, it's YOU, boys. Even a little soul patch would show some spunk and spirit.
Another thing that President Taft holds the mile-marker for as president. And it's my second calling to our current candidates.
Get fat.
Yes, as near as I can tell, Taft was the last president of considerable girth. Mr. Obama, no offense, but you my friend are spindly. And Mr. McCain, it's time for that senior citizen paunch to begin to show around your waist. Fellas, it's time to get into shape... into round shape that is. What we need is a president who looks like us; overweight and proud of it. Look at it this way... President Clinton put on pounds thanks to his affinity for McDonald's fries. And look how his popularity soared. Even an illicit affair couldn't knock him down. Think how much more popular he'd have been with the mountainous masses if he'd gone whole hog and zipped up some size 54s.
Yes, we Americans are fond of people who look like us. Perhaps that's why we are so talented at making God over in our own image these days. We'd like God more if He fit into our molds... so we die cast our own version of the Omnipotent.
Problem is, when flawed people start to make-over God, He becomes weak and insubstainable. Sort of like us. When we wish God into being an old, infirm, long-gray-bearded man wearing cotton pajamas, he becomes less relevant to our lives. And where we can tell God how we want Him to be, we give ourselves freedom to screw up our lives like only we can.
Let us stop making God over in our image, and may we begin to rediscover who the Great Truth about who He really is.
That's what this country needs.
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In recent weeks my blogging adventure has taken a back seat to other life realities. Specifically, moving.
Barbara and I are now proud new citizens of Woodsfield, Ohio, a beautiful community in the foothills of southeast Ohio. Come July, I will be the new pastor of the Free Methodist Church here. We are very excited and chomping at the bit to get started.
But first we have to endure.
I hate moving. I've mentioned that before, but like other realities that make up who I am, I find need to repeat it often. I hate green bean casserole. I hate liver. I hate driving long distances. I hate the devil and all his despicable denizens. And I hate moving. Seems like an awful lot of hate for such a happy-go-lucky dude as myself. But it's the healthy kind of hate. Some people hate people. I have no use for that. Some hate work. I do just fine with it. Some hate change. I, uh, I hate green bean casserole.
Which begs a side note. I knew it was time to leave my first church when, after finding out how I reviled that repulsive dish (green beans are great, but the casserole version will be the only food served in Hell), there were 3 different versions of the execrable concoction at a church dinner.
So we are now enduring the pains of the move. Fortunately, there are factors at work making this a much better predicament to be in than it could have been. We have arrived in Woodsfield a week and a half early to settle in thanks to some un-taken vacation days I'd accrued. The folks here, even though I am not officially their pastor yet, have shown us profound and blessed levels of love. The parsonage, which was in pretty poor condition, has been fixed up and refitted with appliances. We are truly enjoying our new home - what a pleasant surprise it was to walk in and find all the work they'd done since we'd visited in May. There have been other acts of love along the way as well.
Everyone is capable of showing love, but in doing so, we are reflecting God. While some may reject God, they are unwittingly participating in His holy nature by loving. That's not to express some new-agish "I am God" mumbo jumbo, but rather to reflect on the fact that God is the creator of all good things, and love is His greatest invention.
As boxes empty and items begin to find their place, and as I once again grumble that I'm never moving again (hear that, God?!?!), I'm also unpacking new love and new stories that will enrich me. And I will begin unpacking my thoughts once again on a regular basis.
Now I hate to jump on any sort of evangelical right-wing bandwagon by seizing the opportunity to lambaste CBS's new TV show, "Swingtown". But the deluge of commercials for this morally bankrupt new series is really making me itch in ways that I just have to scratch.
The obvious thing to say is that our society continues to trash any remaining semblance of our former Judeo-Christian ethic. It would be obvious to point out CBS's lack of integrity by airing the salacious promos in every time segment of the day. It would also be pretty easy to point to the clear fact that this is a blatant attempt to grab ratings by titillating our society's seediest fantasies.
"Everyone's talking about Swingtown... the most anticipated new show of the summer" the ads say. "Everyone will be watching." Just in case you think you're the only one with voyeuristic longings, never fear. All of American will be watching, lusting and dreaming right along with you.
The ad also touts a stellar cast (I don't recognize any of them, but that's just me), and stellar writing. I hope that the writers are smart
enough to spend more time dealing with the ramifications and heartache associated with this lifestyle then they do the romp and roll aspect.
Here's the bug in my eye about all this. The commercials spend all their time playing up the sex angle and leave no hint as to whether or not the topic is dealt with in a more realistic manner (I doubt that it is; our society rebels against anyone suggesting that it is anything less than OK to do as you please). We have stupidly and collectively bought into the idea that what we do with our life is nobody's business but our own. This permeates all the way into the church where we believe that we all are islands that impact no one else with our personal decisions. Bull-oney. Life is no vacuum; every decision impacts. If anyone knows the Joe Diffie song, "Third Rock From The Sun", you know a great example of this principle at work. Each decision we make, even in the dark, even in the quiet, even if it seems only for me, is a decision that branches out in ways we might not expect. So, is it nobody's business if a couple chooses to live the swinger lifestyle? Let's think about it.
First, those who've studied this phenomenon have discovered that women tend to be coerced participants in this lifestyle. I've even counseled with several women who admit that they participated in extra-marital sexual relationships at their spouses' behest, and have lived to be sickened by the decision. It's interesting to note that each of those situations ended in divorce, despite the promise that the sexual adventure would help the relationship. We men are wired for sex, and we can't even begin to comprehend why our lusts take the route that they do. Often, we make women the victims our our passions. Online porn is another example; those who've studied it show that it is not a victimless crime. The women who participate live very damaged lives. But before we point wagging fingers at men, we must realize that great men are made by relationships with great women. If your man wants to "swing" to enhance or save your relationship, then you're already on a sinking ship. Your choice must be to remain strong and seek help, not cave in blind hope that your liaison will solve all your problems. The weakness on the woman's side tends to fall in the area of allowing men to believe that it's OK to "go there". There is no innocent party here. Of course, some will argue that there are women who actually do enjoy the swinger lifestyle. I would only rejoinder by saying that this should trouble their men; women are wired for the emotional, and if they need emotional/sexual fulfillment from others - you're not doing something right, dog.
So-called "open" marriages are open to trouble. That's not true only from a Christ-follower perspective - it's hard and fast fact from any perspective.
There's one final thing that troubles me about Swingtown. It lowers the bar once again. What will Hollyweird have to do next to get us to watch? I've got some ideas for them.
"Number Two" - a show about people dealing with bathroom issues and the way they take control over relationships when everyone else comes in second.
"Jail Bait" - a loving look at the people behind the child porn industry - they're real people with real stories. After all, it's nobody else's business what we do in the privacy of our homes.
"Utah" - we've heard about the polygamist clans, now come live the life with them as they share their lives with multiple partners. Hey, it's OK - it's religion!!! Woo-hoo!!!
The mind goes wild, doesn't it?!?!
Christ-followers, when they do their work right, are actually the least narrow-minded people of all. Rather than narrowly focusing on the sexual side of our lives, we can wide-focus on the bigger picture ramifications of all that we do. I suspect that sexual sin hurts God so much not because it is breaking His rules, but because He sees how it breaks the heart of the children He loves so much.
Father, open our eyes.
When I go to the movie theatre these days, I mean business.
As expensive as it is to quaff popcorn before the big silver screen (I'm not even sure it's really silver, is it?), the movie had better be one I really, really, really want to see. And I really, really, really wanted to see the new Indiana Jones flick.
So Barbara and I shelled out a small fortune and sat back for the show. And boy was it worth every last penny. I can't imagine having any more fun or enjoying a movie more than I did. "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull" was a big hit for me.
The Indy Jones movies are at the top of my list as all-time favorites. Some differentiate between them, but I find that one fulfills the other, and choosing the best of the bunch would sort of be like choosing which piece of popcorn tastes best. They're all great. Of course, I never imagined they'd make another Indy movie since the third one showed them riding off into the sunset. That seemed to be the perfect ending.
You have to expect a Raiders movie to be over the top, and indeed, this one was as well. Henry Jones, Jr. and his entourage should have been killed many times over throughout the course of the movie. Indy's resilience was only emphasized near the end of the movie when he stood beside a whirling dervish of destruction and mayhem and didn't even get so much as a spec of dust in his eye. Of course, no one goes to the movies to watch someone hold their eyelid open trying to dislodge an invader.
While you would expect a predictable ending, and for the most part it was, this movie wrapped with a true surprise that I never saw coming. Don't worry, no spoiler alert need be issued here, despite the fact that I've always wanted to deliver one. It's not like Indy discovered that he was actually dead through the whole movie or anything that shocking... but it was quite a twist in the Indy Jones legacy.
So since I don't want to spoil the ending for you, I can't really tell you the line of the movie that really stood out to me. I will say that I seem to have these strange spiritual epiphanies at the movies from time to time. I found Batman Begins to be a wonderful parable for the Christ-follower. As the new Indy epic got under way I was struck by how much I could personally relate to what was happening to the lead character. Not that I'm any sort of adventurer, but Indiana's predicament had similarities to this time in my life. By the end, though, I felt pumped and ready to move ahead with God's leading for my life. No wasting time! No regretting! Life is too precious and brief to miss out on every sacred morsel God presents to me. Off to another adventure.
As life's twists and turns have surprised me, I've continually been overwhelmed that God's "betterness" was always far superior to anything I could conceive. When I humble my will to him, when I stop worrying about the kitchen and the meal like Martha, and simply sit at his feet in prayer and praise like Mary, I become witness to a far bigger blessing than I could have otherwise.
Unlike Indiana Jones, I don't have to worry about improvising with each unexpected turn; I simply praise and worship Christ and find that the way unfolds in a wondrously frightfully joyfully brokenly togetherly sort of way. Welcome to the mysterious. Welcome home.
One of the first things I was obliged to memorize as a child was my address and phone number. That way, if I ever got lost, I could offer helpful information to authorities.
Apparently, this helpful memorization is not restricted to children anymore. It includes pets. Did you hear about the lost parrot that told its address, aiding in its return home? 
I wonder if we Christ-followers could be so well studied as to be able to readily share our hope?
Keep in mind that the parrot shared its information at just the right moment. That's what I want for me. Sqwaking about religiosity and dogma at all times is unappealing and repulsive. However, being ready to share the source of my hope when the Spirit nudges is priceless.
I want to be like that.
It's easy to become confused about how to share our faith. It seems right that any and every occasion should be a point of privilege for the believer to proudly expound upon their treasured doctrines. But in doing so, we forgot how Christ Himself revealed hope. It began with a relationship. It began with interest in the other person. It began with healing. There were only rare occasions when Christ entered into a holy tirade against things antithetical to His nature. And we must keep in mind that He did so from a "priestly" or "rabbi" position. We can also learn much by reading the sermons of Acts. Keeping in mind that the situations there were vastly different than our day to day encounters, we can still learn that presenting Christ's message most commonly began after first establishing points of agreement and ingratiating remarks.
When the moment comes, and be sure that the Spirit of God will be present, that is the moment that begs us to share freely the hope that we all have.
