The longer version of the stripped promo video. Check it out!
Found this today over at Ragamuffin Soul.
Absurd Christmas Hymns
Having a closer listen to popular Christmas carols’ lyrics, you begin to understand how those outside of Christianity are left scratching their heads. Here’s two that I have heard recently that have me scratching, as well.
“…A Child, a Child, shivers in the cold, let us bring Him silver and gold…”
It is just me, or does it seem borderline cruel to give a shivering baby a nice pair of cufflinks? I think he could use a blanket. Furthermore, how cold was it in a middle eastern stable? This song is confusing.
“…The Ox and Lamb kept time, pa-rum-pum-pum pum…”
The whole concept of mini-concert in the aforementioned stable is awkward at best, but this line pushes me right over the edge. I guess the songwriter thought he could just slip in a line about the rhythmic farm animals without us noticing. We caught you, songwriter man. I’ll blindly assume it was a man who wrote such an absurd line. I’ll also stab in the dark and say the guy was a part-time songwriter, part time homebrewer, and he was experimenting with some high gravity pale ales while he whipped up this ditty.
I’ll keep my ears open for more holiday goodness, as we roll toward the 25th. Any tips on some good lines would be appreciated. Comment below.
"So How old is He?"
I love this question. People often ask how old my little boy is, and I am learning that you can’t answer the same as when he’s 15. You have to count by weeks, or hours, or something. I am having trouble figuring out what these people want out of me.
He’s 225 days old today. Thanks for asking.
I’ve decided that once he hits 9 months, I am going to start answering “Almost a year” and after that you’ll be lucky if I even break it into half-years. I may say “A year and a half,” but I can assure you my child will never be “18 months” old.
If you want how many months, weeks, or dirty diapers he is old, you’ll have to ask my wife. He’s a half a year, according to me, for the next couple of months.
Idolatry is a Pitching Wedge.
Yesterday I played a round of golf. Heading into hole 15, I needed two strokes to catch the leader. Either I had to step it up, or he had to make a mistake. As I swung, my heart was racing. Adrenaline in my sytem took control, and I had what was probably the longest, best drive of my life. Easily 250 yards, dead straight, middle cut of the fairway. I was ecstatic. I glanced again at the score card, made my way to my second shot, and amazingly repeated the same accuracy, reaching the green in only two shots.
Those of you who have ever played golf with me know how atypical (and borderline unbelievable) this whole scenario is. Those of you with an internet connection and a decent memory might also know that even if I had made time in my schedule for a round of golf yesterday, the weather in western NC was terrible, and I would not have played.
I was playing a video game. Tiger Woods Golf on my Playstation 2. (I know, PS2 is sooo early-2002. Give me a break. It works just fine.) But the odd thing is that if you had put those fancy heart monitor leads on me while playing, it would have been tough to argue that I wasn’t actually experiencing a round of golf. I was nervous, excited, angry, and my heart really was racing as I played.
The thing about my experience yesterday that is so telling is what I put off doing so that I could play video games. We are in the process of writing and sending our annual end-of-year financial support appeal letter. I should have been finishing it to send to the printer so that we could effectively raise support. Instead, I opted for the thrill of the back nine at the TPC at Sawgrass. Why?
If you are ever looking for a way to understand your heart, asking the question “Why?” always gets you there the fastest. For me, today’s answer to yesterday’s question is complex. I desperately long to be powerful, in control, and respected. These are just a few of the idols I bow down to (and repent of bowing down to) on a daily and hourly basis. The video game told me yesterday I was worth something. I have a “career earnings” on the game of well over $10,000,000.00. In the interest of full disclosure, I grossed $16,200.53 in my first full year of staff with Campus Crusade. I’m better at making virtual money. The video game told me I was talented and competent. I holed a 45 foot eagle putt, and beat Tiger Woods in head-to-head match play.
I got lied to by a 6-year-old piece of electronic equipment. The lie wasn’t necessarily that I am competent, talented, worth something, or wealthy; but that the basis for those things could ever be found in a video game. Jesus must have rolled his eyes when I got nervous over a putt on a video game that really did not (nor could not possibly) matter in the grand scheme.
My aversion to raising financial support is that it almost never feeds my idols of self-reliance and control. I am laid bare (thankfully only metaphorically) before the people that I challenge to join us financially. In a culture that relentlessly feeds isolation and independence, I am forced to depend on others, and engage in community. Raising support forces me to do that, and to experience the rush of trusting God for his provision. That’s a sensation that is far more real than any video game can deliver.
Now if only I could remember that the next time my favorite idols come calling.
And while I am at it, you can join our team of financial ministry partners here.