...with Liberty and Justice for All.
Fighting for justice and against oppression is what we're SUPPOSED to do, right? As Christians, as Americans, as Humans. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere, right? Is there anybody who doesn't agree with that?
Liberating the oppressed, reaching out and responding to the marginalized, showing hospitality and kindness to the outcast, is how Jesus defined his own ministry and the kind of ministry to which he called the disciples.
Instead, certain people in certain churches in certain contexts have decided, and continually decide, to be the oppressers. I'm trying not to generalize. I recognize and affirm the individualilty and particularity of each human person.
But there are A LOT of people who seem content with their oppression, even comfortable with it, even proud of it. Building fences, building fences to bolster the fences, denying people communion, denying people the right to worship where, when, how, to whom/what, they please.
Here it is, folks. I have to say it. It might trouble some of you, it might get me in trouble. But right now, I have to say it:
1. Saying that women don't have the right to preach is oppression.
2. Saying that homosexual persons don't have the right to preach or marry or even become members of a church is oppression. And a church, say the United Methodist Church, that does not allow ANYONE to preach and proclaim the gospel is a participant in oppression.
3. Denying anyone communion EVER is oppression.
4. Thinking your tradition's baptism is better or, um, more official, is oppression.
5. Building fortified fences on our borders is oppression.
6. Calling to claim English as America's official language is oppression.
The ultimate oppression is the idea that one person, one group of people, one tradition, one nation can have complete and sole ownership of truth (or of God, which might be six and one). If you (I) ever, in any way, think you (I) are (am) better than anyone else or have a clearer understanding of the mysteries of life than anyone else, you are (I am) wrong and you are (I am) oppressing.
The questions:
1. Knowing this, saying this, believing this, how do we claim Jesus Christ as the way to salvation?
2. How do we show tolerance to the intolerant? Kindness to the unkind? Love to the hateful? Are we supposed to? Aren't we supposed to hate what it is evil and cling to what is good?
3. How do we teach "liberty and justice for all" to the affluent, the liberated, the powerful?
4. How are we, individually and collectively, participating in oppression and what are we doing, individually and collectively, to set at liberty ALL those who are oppressed?
The answer, always: grace.
Your friend, brother, partner, collaborator, Brad-owner of one microscopic atom in one grain of sand of the vastness of the truth of God.
An unexamined life is not worth living.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
One for the Hip Column
This week, my brother Andy, posted a punch-in-the-gut story from the Dispatch that said "Morningstar is a United Methodist Church, but it seems more like a hip, contemporary, evangelical church."Well I think this is pretty hip. After 9-11, Bush's psuedo-gestapo homeland security agenga grew as fast and as out of control as a Bugs Bunny snowball rolling down a hill. It has now reached all the way to a place named, of all things, Friendship Park in San Diego. Friendship Park, for GENERATIONS before Bush, was a place for familes and friends to meet between Mexico and the United States and feel whatever community one can feel between the links of a fence. George Bush will now take away even that amount of contact. They're putting in another fence!
Well, one pastor, the one above, Pastor John Fanestil, has decided to offer whatever he can. He can't stop the administration from erasing the words from Lady Liberty, but he can preside over Holy Communion.
Every Sunday afternoon, Pastor Fanestil goes to Friendship Park and serves communion to families on both sides of the fence, helping them participate in the sacrament together by handing the bread and cup through the links of the fence.
This is true communion. What it is supposed to be. What it is supposed to mean.
Oh, and Pastor John Fanestil, he's a United Methodist. Count one for the hip, contemporary, evangelical column.
Brad
Monday, September 22, 2008
The Call (LCP: long, church-related post warning)
Over the next few months, as part of my continuing journey to ordination in the United Methodist Church, I will be asked over and over to explain, reflect, define my call to ministry.
My call has a spiritual aspect and a practical one that comes from growing up in a pastor's house. By spiritual call, I'm not one of those people who has heard God's voice in the back of his head (like, oh i don't know, telling the people that God wanted me to be president.) I don't deny some people's audial experience of God, it just didn't happen to me.
When I was 17 years old, my youth group at Schweitzer United Methodist Church in Springfield, MO, went on a fall retreat. We went to Camp Wilderness, or Wilderness Camp, a UMC sponsered camp in southern MO. During this retreat, during one of the private reflection and prayer times, I went out by the lake and sat down. I found myself asking the question, do you want me to be a minister? I couldn't think of anything else, the question just kept circling through my head. And, like I said, I didn't hear a voice, no one answered me, Charlton Heston didn't come down and say "Let my people go." But, when I asked that question, I was overwhelmed with a sense of peace. A sense of right-ness. There's no way I can make anyone understand, but I think that's the way it's supposed to be. I just knew.
The practical side of my call came through the process that almost everyone goes through when they're 17 of just trying to find something to do with their lives. I knew I wanted to teach, I wanted to play music, I wanted to work with youth and children, I wanted to write, I wanted to speak, I wanted to help people, I wanted to work in mission and service. (And, being 17, I still wanted to be a rockstar drummer, so I did stay in bands throughout college) But, I watched my dad do all those things growing up. Everything I wanted to do, in one job. So, I decided I didn't have to pick one, I could do everything my heart was telling me I was supposed to do, as a minister.
And that same year, the spiritual call came as well, so I didn't look back. I applied to one college, got a full ride scholarship on the strength of my writing (which i subsequently got cut in half on the "strength" of my study habits), signed up as a religion major/sociology minor in my first week, assigned to my first churches before graduating and have been in the process ever since.
But, my call has evolved since then. The non-descript, fuzzy edges of "ministry" have become clearer. I believe I am called to urban ministry, to ministry in Kansas City proper, to ministry with young adults. I am not rural, I am not suburban. My gifts and skills and talents and call and culture are for city ministry. I want to be in ministry with urban young adults-the First Friday Art show crowd-the River Market concert crowd-the downtown loft crowd, but also feel called to be a part of homeless ministry, fighting the racial divisions in Kansas City, reaching the ever-growing international community of KC, bringing church back from the suburbs into the city, stopping the skyrocketing homicide rate, speaking out against the meth trade, etc.
Let me be clear: I am not denying the life-changing ministry that can be and should be done in rural areas or suburban areas or small towns. Or evaluating any one of them as better than the other. It's just not me, it's not my community, my context, my call.
Full discloser: I also LOVE Kansas City. I love the plaza, westport, 18th and Vine, Arther Bryant's BBQ, the Western Auto sign, Irishfest in Crown Center, yes even the Royals and Chiefs.
Of course, I also feel called to ministry within the United Methodist Church, which means I am part of an itinerant system that moves its pastors around on appointment basis and will be asked if I am willing to "go and serve where ever I am sent." The answer is yes, but i also feel called to be a part of reforming the 300 year old system of itinerancy. (i.e. what it does to families, what it does to smaller churches, what it asks of spouses, how it fits in our flat-earth, ditigal culture)
Finally, another piece of my call that has revealed itself more clearly through my seminary years, is the call to be a part of redefining what counts as worship, what worship looks like, how worship functions, what worship sounds like. As I told my DCOM board, my personally ideal worship style doesn't exist: my sanctuary would look more like a theater and my service would look, feel, and sound more like a rock show. I don't want a praise band, I want a professional level band that plays smart, poetic, powerful, iconic (directs one through to connection with God), and, most of all, MUSICALLY SOPHISTICATED worship music. -Lord, I Lift Your Name on High, Here I am to Worship, Open the Eyes of my Heart, and especially *shudder* Jesus is My Friend, don't count. In addition to bringing these things into the sanctuary, I also want to bring worship outside the sancutary. Art shows, concerts, experiencing nature, literature, a good meal, anything in all God's creation can connect us to the Creator God.
This is my call, as I see it, as I feel it. I pray that we all constantly search for the ways in which God is speaking to us and calling us in to ministry (everyone, not just pastors). A call is NEVER defined, it is always changing, always growing.
I freely and heartily yield all things to thy pleasure and disposal,
Brad
My call has a spiritual aspect and a practical one that comes from growing up in a pastor's house. By spiritual call, I'm not one of those people who has heard God's voice in the back of his head (like, oh i don't know, telling the people that God wanted me to be president.) I don't deny some people's audial experience of God, it just didn't happen to me.
When I was 17 years old, my youth group at Schweitzer United Methodist Church in Springfield, MO, went on a fall retreat. We went to Camp Wilderness, or Wilderness Camp, a UMC sponsered camp in southern MO. During this retreat, during one of the private reflection and prayer times, I went out by the lake and sat down. I found myself asking the question, do you want me to be a minister? I couldn't think of anything else, the question just kept circling through my head. And, like I said, I didn't hear a voice, no one answered me, Charlton Heston didn't come down and say "Let my people go." But, when I asked that question, I was overwhelmed with a sense of peace. A sense of right-ness. There's no way I can make anyone understand, but I think that's the way it's supposed to be. I just knew.
The practical side of my call came through the process that almost everyone goes through when they're 17 of just trying to find something to do with their lives. I knew I wanted to teach, I wanted to play music, I wanted to work with youth and children, I wanted to write, I wanted to speak, I wanted to help people, I wanted to work in mission and service. (And, being 17, I still wanted to be a rockstar drummer, so I did stay in bands throughout college) But, I watched my dad do all those things growing up. Everything I wanted to do, in one job. So, I decided I didn't have to pick one, I could do everything my heart was telling me I was supposed to do, as a minister.
And that same year, the spiritual call came as well, so I didn't look back. I applied to one college, got a full ride scholarship on the strength of my writing (which i subsequently got cut in half on the "strength" of my study habits), signed up as a religion major/sociology minor in my first week, assigned to my first churches before graduating and have been in the process ever since.
But, my call has evolved since then. The non-descript, fuzzy edges of "ministry" have become clearer. I believe I am called to urban ministry, to ministry in Kansas City proper, to ministry with young adults. I am not rural, I am not suburban. My gifts and skills and talents and call and culture are for city ministry. I want to be in ministry with urban young adults-the First Friday Art show crowd-the River Market concert crowd-the downtown loft crowd, but also feel called to be a part of homeless ministry, fighting the racial divisions in Kansas City, reaching the ever-growing international community of KC, bringing church back from the suburbs into the city, stopping the skyrocketing homicide rate, speaking out against the meth trade, etc.
Let me be clear: I am not denying the life-changing ministry that can be and should be done in rural areas or suburban areas or small towns. Or evaluating any one of them as better than the other. It's just not me, it's not my community, my context, my call.
Full discloser: I also LOVE Kansas City. I love the plaza, westport, 18th and Vine, Arther Bryant's BBQ, the Western Auto sign, Irishfest in Crown Center, yes even the Royals and Chiefs.
Of course, I also feel called to ministry within the United Methodist Church, which means I am part of an itinerant system that moves its pastors around on appointment basis and will be asked if I am willing to "go and serve where ever I am sent." The answer is yes, but i also feel called to be a part of reforming the 300 year old system of itinerancy. (i.e. what it does to families, what it does to smaller churches, what it asks of spouses, how it fits in our flat-earth, ditigal culture)
Finally, another piece of my call that has revealed itself more clearly through my seminary years, is the call to be a part of redefining what counts as worship, what worship looks like, how worship functions, what worship sounds like. As I told my DCOM board, my personally ideal worship style doesn't exist: my sanctuary would look more like a theater and my service would look, feel, and sound more like a rock show. I don't want a praise band, I want a professional level band that plays smart, poetic, powerful, iconic (directs one through to connection with God), and, most of all, MUSICALLY SOPHISTICATED worship music. -Lord, I Lift Your Name on High, Here I am to Worship, Open the Eyes of my Heart, and especially *shudder* Jesus is My Friend, don't count. In addition to bringing these things into the sanctuary, I also want to bring worship outside the sancutary. Art shows, concerts, experiencing nature, literature, a good meal, anything in all God's creation can connect us to the Creator God.
This is my call, as I see it, as I feel it. I pray that we all constantly search for the ways in which God is speaking to us and calling us in to ministry (everyone, not just pastors). A call is NEVER defined, it is always changing, always growing.
I freely and heartily yield all things to thy pleasure and disposal,
Brad
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Dear Bishop, Cabinet and Board of Ordained Ministry,
Background: In the United Methodist Church we go through an extensive process of discernment and preparation toward becoming ordained as an Elder in Full Connection. It's called candidacy.
To whom it may concern:
The process of candidacy should be a grace-filled time of personal reflection and discernment, of celebrating that myriad ways God calls people into ministry and the diverse gifts that each of us have been given. It should be affirming, strengthening, growth-inducing.
Sitting around the lunch table at St. Paul School of Theology today, I heard a sadly common story of a recent candidacy interview with a District Committee of Ordained Ministry. The interviewee was spoken to condescendingly, broken down, beaten up, actually insulted and eventually not allowed to be certified a candidate because he was too intellectual. The person was treated as an inferior. He was told that teaching was not a job pastors were supposed to do. He was told that instead of entering into a conversation with a troubled youth, he was supposed to tell them God loves them and give them a hug, and then shown by one of the committee members what a hug looks like. He was asked how old he is, 23, and told that he has some more learning to do and to come back in a few years, delaying even further the age in which he could ever become an ordained elder. He was asked a question by one committee member who then immediately left the room to answer a cell phone call and told to answer to the committee. He was told, basically, that he was wrong, that he needed to get right, and that right meant the opinion of the committee.
I have typed for too long and too much about this. This is not the exception, this is the common experience of my friends and colleagues. One friend will not be commissioned this year, not because he is not eligible and certainly not because he is not ready, but because the district committee lost his paper work. One person who mentioned the desire to transfer conferences was told by the conference she would be leaving that she could leave, but don't expect to be welcomed back.
There is so much that the process of candidacy should be, so much that it should accomplish, so much ministry that it should build, so many gifts that it should affirm and strengthen and explore. Unfortunately, a grace-filled, affirming, collaborative, learning, diversity-celebrating, conformity-avoiding, empowering experience with the District Committee on Ordained Ministry and the Conference Board of Ordained Ministry is the exception, not the rule.
I don't want to draw lines. I don't want to talk about us and them. I don't want to speak for young adult clergy, or candidates of all ages. But, the stories are piling up.
As I prepare to answer questions for commissioning in the United Methodist Church (the very same questions, btw, that I have answered twice a year for 8 years now), I should be excited about the freeing process of self-reflection, looking forward to working in collaboration with the Board and my mentor to become the best possible pastor I can be, I should be examining my own gifts for ministry, lifting them up, strengthening them, sharing them with others.
Instead, the only thing I feel is fear. Will I pass or not?
Dear Bishop, Cabinet and Board of Ordained Ministry,
We need to fix this and we need to include the voices of the people GOING THROUGH IT in order to do so. There is so much more that this process could be.
Dedicated to answering God's ever-changing, life-changing call on my life,
Reverend Brad Bryan
To whom it may concern:
The process of candidacy should be a grace-filled time of personal reflection and discernment, of celebrating that myriad ways God calls people into ministry and the diverse gifts that each of us have been given. It should be affirming, strengthening, growth-inducing.
Sitting around the lunch table at St. Paul School of Theology today, I heard a sadly common story of a recent candidacy interview with a District Committee of Ordained Ministry. The interviewee was spoken to condescendingly, broken down, beaten up, actually insulted and eventually not allowed to be certified a candidate because he was too intellectual. The person was treated as an inferior. He was told that teaching was not a job pastors were supposed to do. He was told that instead of entering into a conversation with a troubled youth, he was supposed to tell them God loves them and give them a hug, and then shown by one of the committee members what a hug looks like. He was asked how old he is, 23, and told that he has some more learning to do and to come back in a few years, delaying even further the age in which he could ever become an ordained elder. He was asked a question by one committee member who then immediately left the room to answer a cell phone call and told to answer to the committee. He was told, basically, that he was wrong, that he needed to get right, and that right meant the opinion of the committee.
I have typed for too long and too much about this. This is not the exception, this is the common experience of my friends and colleagues. One friend will not be commissioned this year, not because he is not eligible and certainly not because he is not ready, but because the district committee lost his paper work. One person who mentioned the desire to transfer conferences was told by the conference she would be leaving that she could leave, but don't expect to be welcomed back.
There is so much that the process of candidacy should be, so much that it should accomplish, so much ministry that it should build, so many gifts that it should affirm and strengthen and explore. Unfortunately, a grace-filled, affirming, collaborative, learning, diversity-celebrating, conformity-avoiding, empowering experience with the District Committee on Ordained Ministry and the Conference Board of Ordained Ministry is the exception, not the rule.
I don't want to draw lines. I don't want to talk about us and them. I don't want to speak for young adult clergy, or candidates of all ages. But, the stories are piling up.
As I prepare to answer questions for commissioning in the United Methodist Church (the very same questions, btw, that I have answered twice a year for 8 years now), I should be excited about the freeing process of self-reflection, looking forward to working in collaboration with the Board and my mentor to become the best possible pastor I can be, I should be examining my own gifts for ministry, lifting them up, strengthening them, sharing them with others.
Instead, the only thing I feel is fear. Will I pass or not?
Dear Bishop, Cabinet and Board of Ordained Ministry,
We need to fix this and we need to include the voices of the people GOING THROUGH IT in order to do so. There is so much more that this process could be.
Dedicated to answering God's ever-changing, life-changing call on my life,
Reverend Brad Bryan
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Three Completely Unrelated Topics
On the way in to Kansas City this afternoon for my week of school, I passed three large pickup trucks with three large bumper stickers on them. The first read, "I Love My Carbon Footprint."
The second one said, "Piss off a liberal, buy a gun," with a picture of a handgun in the middle of the words. The third one, my personal favorite, "Suckin' Gas n' Kickin' Ass!" God bless America.
I've heard the new Metallica album and I believe that while Death Magnetic can't compare to Master of Puppets or Ride the Lightening, it definately approaches ...And Justice for ALL, and clearly surpasses the Loads and St. Anger. (Only a few of my readers will understand what that meant!) Here's the thing about Metallica: the only way to rank or critique a Metallica album is to compare it to OTHER Metallica albums. That's how you know the band is huge.
On a more serious note, SMOKING CAUSES CANCER. There's no "may" or "might" left on the box anymore. It simply says, SMOKING CAUSES CANCER. There's a powerful and difficult article in this week's Newsweek about how we're losing the fight against cancer. 1 in 2 men will get cancer at some point. 1 IN 2!!!! Sure, most of that is prostate. But, men who get prostate cancer aren't participating in an activity that knowingly causes it.
I started smoking when most of us started doing the things in our lives that hurt us, college. I smoked cigarettes for five years, and got down to the occasional cheap gas station cigar and the very occasional expensive cigar shop cigar. But, then occasionally turned into any time I was out with people. Then, any time I drove anywhere.
Why do we do the things we do to ourselves? Sorry, that was a little judgemental. Why do I do the things I do to myself? It's not just smoking either. It's eating. It's not working out. It's not studying like I should. Why? Why can't I stop the voice of selfish justification that always makes it ok to have that one next cigar? That comes up with a perfectly good reason to go to Taco Bell at 2:00 in the morning!
Well, as far as the smoking is concerned, I'm done. For good. Never, never again. If you ever see me with a cigar in my hand, slap me in the face. I'm done. It causes cancer stupid.
Taco Bell will be a harder battle.
Peace, B
The second one said, "Piss off a liberal, buy a gun," with a picture of a handgun in the middle of the words. The third one, my personal favorite, "Suckin' Gas n' Kickin' Ass!" God bless America.
I've heard the new Metallica album and I believe that while Death Magnetic can't compare to Master of Puppets or Ride the Lightening, it definately approaches ...And Justice for ALL, and clearly surpasses the Loads and St. Anger. (Only a few of my readers will understand what that meant!) Here's the thing about Metallica: the only way to rank or critique a Metallica album is to compare it to OTHER Metallica albums. That's how you know the band is huge.
On a more serious note, SMOKING CAUSES CANCER. There's no "may" or "might" left on the box anymore. It simply says, SMOKING CAUSES CANCER. There's a powerful and difficult article in this week's Newsweek about how we're losing the fight against cancer. 1 in 2 men will get cancer at some point. 1 IN 2!!!! Sure, most of that is prostate. But, men who get prostate cancer aren't participating in an activity that knowingly causes it.
I started smoking when most of us started doing the things in our lives that hurt us, college. I smoked cigarettes for five years, and got down to the occasional cheap gas station cigar and the very occasional expensive cigar shop cigar. But, then occasionally turned into any time I was out with people. Then, any time I drove anywhere.
Why do we do the things we do to ourselves? Sorry, that was a little judgemental. Why do I do the things I do to myself? It's not just smoking either. It's eating. It's not working out. It's not studying like I should. Why? Why can't I stop the voice of selfish justification that always makes it ok to have that one next cigar? That comes up with a perfectly good reason to go to Taco Bell at 2:00 in the morning!
Well, as far as the smoking is concerned, I'm done. For good. Never, never again. If you ever see me with a cigar in my hand, slap me in the face. I'm done. It causes cancer stupid.
Taco Bell will be a harder battle.
Peace, B
Friday, September 05, 2008
The Times They Are A-Changin' (sort of)...
My brother, http://www.entertherainbow.blogspot.com ,has finally graced the world with an opinion on the current political race that no doubt will inspire a few others to blog there own reflections on the conventions, campaigns and coverage. I know it made me want to talk about it.
I'm no Fareed Zakaria or Jonathan Altar, but here goes. LRP warning: this will probably be a longer post that will ramble at times, so get some coffee and find a comfortable chair.
In Andy's first warning he mentions the misnomer (sp?) that pastors are not to have, or at the very least, express their political opinions. Of course, the pulpit is no place for politics but in an informed, civil conversation, why should pastors be expected to be apolitical? We're people, too! (was that whiney?)
Okay. Both camps say we're heading in the wrong direction. Both camps say we need a change in Washington. Both camps use the same evidence to support the need for change. both camps have seemingly interchangable mantras of Yes We Can or Change We Can Believe In or I Believe in a Better Way (kudos to Barack for using a Ben Harper song and not anything by ABBA)
Here's the thing. We thought change was coming two years ago when the democrats regained voting power in the Senate. The new government has, largely, failed to change anything.
The whole system is so entrenched that its hard to believe that any one person or administration will change it all that much. I believe this election year has started a process of changing the ways of Washinton, one that won't fully be developed until i'm an old man, say 37. Obama's not going to ride in on a white steed and throw out all the lobbyists, get the dems and rebs to sit down and smoke the peace the pipe. McCain, voting with Bush 90% of the time, is certainly not going come in guns blazin' and say "the Maverick's in town, this town ain't big enough for partisan politics." It's not going to happen. Things will change simply because different people will be in office. But the lobbies aren't going away, the never-ending campaign culture isn't going away and the 50/50 split isn't going away. As long as money's invovled, as long as special interests are invovled, as long as reelections are invovled, it'll be Washington as usual.
(here's the rambling part) About this Muslim thing. I want to make perfectly clear: BARACK OBAMA IS NOT, HAS NEVER BEEN, AND NEVER WILL BE A MUSLIM. But here's a question, why does it matter? In 2008, are we really still that obtuse and arrogant and ignorant to believe that a Muslim person couldn't be the cheif executive of the United States. Our nation, founded on the priciples of religious freedom (to name one), has officially seperated church and state. It shouldn't matter. neither candidates faith should be an issue. But it is. I praise both candidates for distancing themselves from the crazy Christian supporters that came out of the woodwork. Jeremiah Wright, James Haggee, Dobson, Robertson. James Dobson actually called on the members of Focus on the Family to pray for rain during Obama's speech. How very Christian of you! And then there's Rick Warren. Get them on the same stage, ask them the same questions, and let your worshippers make up their own damn minds. Thank you, Pastor Warren. They shouldn't have had to campaign in a church in the first place, but such is our country, and you handled it well.
I don't want my PODUS to have time to go to church. I don't want my president to bring religion into every decision. I do want them to have hearts of compassion, mercy and justice. Every religion on earth shares these tenants, and oh, atheists can be compassionate too. It shouldn't matter.
OK. No turning over the tables of the money-changers, no great hope for change, we covered the religion thing. What else?
Can we talk about Sarah Palin for a second? She's an intelligent, successful person who cares about her family and the people she's been elected to serve. But has there ever been a more rediculously transparent political move? It's like the GOP is saying, "Hey Hilary supporters, this person has boobs too, vote for her now." And it turns out, it's been kind of a political train wreck. Where's that 200 million dollar check from the federal government for the project that was cancelled? You know, the one you supported until the US government scrapped it and ONLY THEN did you agree it was a bad idea? Cindy McCain? Closest state to Russia? What?! How does being governor of a state with a population smaller than the city in which Obama honed his political chops prepare you to be a heartbeat away from the PODUS? It's insulting, is what it is. It's an insult to our intelligence. (and, I agree with Obama and McCain that family should be off limits, but just think for a minute what would happen if the tables were turned. If Obama had a 17 yr old daughter who was having a baby. What a field-day that would be for the GOP?)
Speaking of Hilary supporters, get over it! How many times does Hilary herself have to say she supports Obama for you to listen.
Now, the coverage. Journelistic integrity died when 24 hour news stations were born. Just like video killed the radio star, 24 hour news killed the unbiased, factfinding reporter. I go to www.bbcnews.com for my election coverage. "A lot of people are going to pre-supposed such and such, so let us be the first to presuppose such and such." The best politcal news team? Come on, people, this isn't 7th grade. In a political knowledge poll, people who got their news EXCLUSIVELY from the Daily Show and the Colbert Report scored 20% higher than people who watched the real news. Karl Rove as a political analyist? Oh yeah, that should be totally unbaised.
Alright, here it is. The ultimate faux-pah (sp?). Don't talk about religion or politics. But, here it is. I am supporting, voting for, hoping for Barack Obama and Joe Biden to lead the next administration of the United States. Primarially for their promise to find a reasonable end to the war in Iraq. I'm not naive enough to take a campaign promise without a large grain of salt, but we have to get out of Iraq and I think Obama has a better plan than McCain.
And finally, I leave you with the same pessimistic hope as my brother. That politics itself will change. That the constant, junior-high bickering will stop, the campaign culture will stop, the lobbyists and speical interest groups will stop, the "this is why you shouldn't vote for these people" strategies will stop. That we can help the poor and oppressed, acknowledging the systemic failures that birth poverty and create opportunities for personal development and responsibility. That we can promote, encourage and work for peace while facilitating the security of all people. There is too much need in this world, too much violence in this world, too much hunger in this world for politics as usual.
I pray (yes, pray, i'm inserting my own religious views into politics) that we can come together and fight for the things that really matter.
Hopefully yours, Brad
www.procon.org
www.dividedwefail.org
www.bbcnews.com
I'm no Fareed Zakaria or Jonathan Altar, but here goes. LRP warning: this will probably be a longer post that will ramble at times, so get some coffee and find a comfortable chair.
In Andy's first warning he mentions the misnomer (sp?) that pastors are not to have, or at the very least, express their political opinions. Of course, the pulpit is no place for politics but in an informed, civil conversation, why should pastors be expected to be apolitical? We're people, too! (was that whiney?)
Okay. Both camps say we're heading in the wrong direction. Both camps say we need a change in Washington. Both camps use the same evidence to support the need for change. both camps have seemingly interchangable mantras of Yes We Can or Change We Can Believe In or I Believe in a Better Way (kudos to Barack for using a Ben Harper song and not anything by ABBA)
Here's the thing. We thought change was coming two years ago when the democrats regained voting power in the Senate. The new government has, largely, failed to change anything.
The whole system is so entrenched that its hard to believe that any one person or administration will change it all that much. I believe this election year has started a process of changing the ways of Washinton, one that won't fully be developed until i'm an old man, say 37. Obama's not going to ride in on a white steed and throw out all the lobbyists, get the dems and rebs to sit down and smoke the peace the pipe. McCain, voting with Bush 90% of the time, is certainly not going come in guns blazin' and say "the Maverick's in town, this town ain't big enough for partisan politics." It's not going to happen. Things will change simply because different people will be in office. But the lobbies aren't going away, the never-ending campaign culture isn't going away and the 50/50 split isn't going away. As long as money's invovled, as long as special interests are invovled, as long as reelections are invovled, it'll be Washington as usual.
(here's the rambling part) About this Muslim thing. I want to make perfectly clear: BARACK OBAMA IS NOT, HAS NEVER BEEN, AND NEVER WILL BE A MUSLIM. But here's a question, why does it matter? In 2008, are we really still that obtuse and arrogant and ignorant to believe that a Muslim person couldn't be the cheif executive of the United States. Our nation, founded on the priciples of religious freedom (to name one), has officially seperated church and state. It shouldn't matter. neither candidates faith should be an issue. But it is. I praise both candidates for distancing themselves from the crazy Christian supporters that came out of the woodwork. Jeremiah Wright, James Haggee, Dobson, Robertson. James Dobson actually called on the members of Focus on the Family to pray for rain during Obama's speech. How very Christian of you! And then there's Rick Warren. Get them on the same stage, ask them the same questions, and let your worshippers make up their own damn minds. Thank you, Pastor Warren. They shouldn't have had to campaign in a church in the first place, but such is our country, and you handled it well.
I don't want my PODUS to have time to go to church. I don't want my president to bring religion into every decision. I do want them to have hearts of compassion, mercy and justice. Every religion on earth shares these tenants, and oh, atheists can be compassionate too. It shouldn't matter.
OK. No turning over the tables of the money-changers, no great hope for change, we covered the religion thing. What else?
Can we talk about Sarah Palin for a second? She's an intelligent, successful person who cares about her family and the people she's been elected to serve. But has there ever been a more rediculously transparent political move? It's like the GOP is saying, "Hey Hilary supporters, this person has boobs too, vote for her now." And it turns out, it's been kind of a political train wreck. Where's that 200 million dollar check from the federal government for the project that was cancelled? You know, the one you supported until the US government scrapped it and ONLY THEN did you agree it was a bad idea? Cindy McCain? Closest state to Russia? What?! How does being governor of a state with a population smaller than the city in which Obama honed his political chops prepare you to be a heartbeat away from the PODUS? It's insulting, is what it is. It's an insult to our intelligence. (and, I agree with Obama and McCain that family should be off limits, but just think for a minute what would happen if the tables were turned. If Obama had a 17 yr old daughter who was having a baby. What a field-day that would be for the GOP?)
Speaking of Hilary supporters, get over it! How many times does Hilary herself have to say she supports Obama for you to listen.
Now, the coverage. Journelistic integrity died when 24 hour news stations were born. Just like video killed the radio star, 24 hour news killed the unbiased, factfinding reporter. I go to www.bbcnews.com for my election coverage. "A lot of people are going to pre-supposed such and such, so let us be the first to presuppose such and such." The best politcal news team? Come on, people, this isn't 7th grade. In a political knowledge poll, people who got their news EXCLUSIVELY from the Daily Show and the Colbert Report scored 20% higher than people who watched the real news. Karl Rove as a political analyist? Oh yeah, that should be totally unbaised.
Alright, here it is. The ultimate faux-pah (sp?). Don't talk about religion or politics. But, here it is. I am supporting, voting for, hoping for Barack Obama and Joe Biden to lead the next administration of the United States. Primarially for their promise to find a reasonable end to the war in Iraq. I'm not naive enough to take a campaign promise without a large grain of salt, but we have to get out of Iraq and I think Obama has a better plan than McCain.
And finally, I leave you with the same pessimistic hope as my brother. That politics itself will change. That the constant, junior-high bickering will stop, the campaign culture will stop, the lobbyists and speical interest groups will stop, the "this is why you shouldn't vote for these people" strategies will stop. That we can help the poor and oppressed, acknowledging the systemic failures that birth poverty and create opportunities for personal development and responsibility. That we can promote, encourage and work for peace while facilitating the security of all people. There is too much need in this world, too much violence in this world, too much hunger in this world for politics as usual.
I pray (yes, pray, i'm inserting my own religious views into politics) that we can come together and fight for the things that really matter.
Hopefully yours, Brad
www.procon.org
www.dividedwefail.org
www.bbcnews.com
Thursday, August 28, 2008
This Week in "What The...?!?" News
Yo.
Thanks for your comments on the last topic everybody and thanks for your kind, but misinformed, voting on the drummer poll. John Bonham is the best there's ever been and ever will be when it comes to rock drumming. Every one else who beats the skins, from Brad Bryan to Neil Peart, is just trying to play like him.
And now, onto business.
This week the LPGA announced that they were instituting an English language test to be given to all golfers. Hey LPGA, WHAT THE....?!?! This isn't even closet racism, its just racism. Ethnocentrism, arrogance, racism. Pure and simple.
One may wonder why the lady golfers association decided to start this new program. Because, and I want everybody to listen closely to this, too many Korean players are winning championships. Korean women dominate women's golf. Over 60% of tournaments played are won by a Korean woman.
Here's an idea, American golfers who have chosen systemic racism to solve your problem...PLAY BETTER GOLF!
In a sporting world in which the US Open, tennis, is dominated by Russians and the best men's players are Serbian, Spanish and whatever Federer is, in which the US Redeem Team won its gold medal over a Spanish team with four NBA players on its starting lineup and the best players in that league are from the Virgin Islands, Spain, China, Argentina and Canada, yes, Canada and a world that can nominate a half-white-Kansan, half-African, raised-in-Indonesia-and-Hawaii man named Barack for president, the LPGA, instead of globalizing and expanding has gone back in time to 1950s Mississippi. Get with the times LPGA and if you're tired of getting beat by the Koreans...uh, practice, practice, practice.
Flabbergasted,
Brad
ps: no offense meant, but if you still think Barack Obama is a Muslim, then I think you're kind of an idiot. (this is the exact thing Mom warned me about, but come on people!)
Thanks for your comments on the last topic everybody and thanks for your kind, but misinformed, voting on the drummer poll. John Bonham is the best there's ever been and ever will be when it comes to rock drumming. Every one else who beats the skins, from Brad Bryan to Neil Peart, is just trying to play like him.
And now, onto business.
This week the LPGA announced that they were instituting an English language test to be given to all golfers. Hey LPGA, WHAT THE....?!?! This isn't even closet racism, its just racism. Ethnocentrism, arrogance, racism. Pure and simple.
One may wonder why the lady golfers association decided to start this new program. Because, and I want everybody to listen closely to this, too many Korean players are winning championships. Korean women dominate women's golf. Over 60% of tournaments played are won by a Korean woman.
Here's an idea, American golfers who have chosen systemic racism to solve your problem...PLAY BETTER GOLF!
In a sporting world in which the US Open, tennis, is dominated by Russians and the best men's players are Serbian, Spanish and whatever Federer is, in which the US Redeem Team won its gold medal over a Spanish team with four NBA players on its starting lineup and the best players in that league are from the Virgin Islands, Spain, China, Argentina and Canada, yes, Canada and a world that can nominate a half-white-Kansan, half-African, raised-in-Indonesia-and-Hawaii man named Barack for president, the LPGA, instead of globalizing and expanding has gone back in time to 1950s Mississippi. Get with the times LPGA and if you're tired of getting beat by the Koreans...uh, practice, practice, practice.
Flabbergasted,
Brad
ps: no offense meant, but if you still think Barack Obama is a Muslim, then I think you're kind of an idiot. (this is the exact thing Mom warned me about, but come on people!)
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Question
Either I'm gearing up for another school year, or I have completely lost my mind. Either way, I opened St. Athanasius' book On the Incarnation the other night and read it cover to cover. In it, Athanasius makes the case for the divinity and humanity of Christ, the need for the incarnation and what it means.
Now, I'm an incarnation guy. Some people are baptism people, some focus on the cross, still others on the resurrection. Realizing that they all, of course, go hand in hand, the incarnation is the most important thing Jesus ever did in my opinion.
Like any good doctrine of incarnation, and therefore salvation, one must begin with the NEED of salvation. Why do we need saving? So, a question came to my mind reading Athanasius' account of original sin that lead to the incarnation and the salvation of all.
How does one form a sound doctrine of original sin while denying the act of the original sin itself? In other words, what's original sin without believing in Adam and Eve? And, maybe more important, does it matter?
I pose the question to the blogosphere...
Thanks, B
Now, I'm an incarnation guy. Some people are baptism people, some focus on the cross, still others on the resurrection. Realizing that they all, of course, go hand in hand, the incarnation is the most important thing Jesus ever did in my opinion.
Like any good doctrine of incarnation, and therefore salvation, one must begin with the NEED of salvation. Why do we need saving? So, a question came to my mind reading Athanasius' account of original sin that lead to the incarnation and the salvation of all.
How does one form a sound doctrine of original sin while denying the act of the original sin itself? In other words, what's original sin without believing in Adam and Eve? And, maybe more important, does it matter?
I pose the question to the blogosphere...
Thanks, B
Monday, August 04, 2008
The Wesley Project
Hey, everybody,
For the past couple of years, I've been writing new tunes to Charles and John Wesley songs from the United Methodist Hymnal. My friend Mark, http://www.stupidityensues.blogspot.com/, found out that this is actually a real thing done by a guy named Carl Thomas Gladstone. Check out http://www.carlthomasgladstone.com/wesleyproject.htm. I wrote mine completely unaware that this was going on, but its pretty cool. My big brother Andy has rewritten quite a few, as well. He says there's usually two types of Charles Wesley hymns, the "fight song" type and the organ opera that's way too hard to sing.
Here's the problem. Modern songs need a chorus. If you want a congregation to be familiar with a song and sing along, the song needs a catchy, easy-to-sing, memorable repeated section. The biz talk for this is the hook. The song needs a hook. Charles Wesley didn't write hooks, he didn't know what they were. So, you've got to find a line within the song to use as a chorus. "Amazing love, how can it be, that thou my God would die for me?" from And Can it Be that I should Gain, is a great chorus.
Another problem is the language. I don't change the thee's and thou's, I kind of like them. But, some words that rhymed when Charles wrote them, don't rhyme any more. And, the line above is actually shouldst die for me, but who wants to sing the word shouldst?
So, here's a little song list that I've got so far.
Maker In Whom We Live: This is the first one I wrote, and it sounds like it. A regular G, C, D praise song.
Thou Hidden Source of Calm Repose: Never heard this one done in its original form. Probably a reason for that. The backward, Yoda speech of this one called for a reggae beat.
Praise to the Lord the Almighty: Not a Wesley song, but I'm pretty proud of this one because it uses not one, but TWO capos (that's right Mustoe, I did it, two capos) Ask your nearest guitar player what a capo is.
Christ Whose Glory Fills the Skies: A Pearl Jam-y slow rocker, needs a full band and a Ryan McLouth lead guitar line.
Jesus, Thy Boundless Love to Me: #183 in the UMC hymnal, a poem translated by John Wesley who called it the cry of his heart. I like this one.
O Love Divine, What Hast Thou Done: A beautiful song about the passion of Christ. Naturally, I did this one as a blues song.
Christ the Lord is Risen Today: A St. Paul favorite and probably the most complex one. Andy, Ron and Joel sat in the back picking out the Pearl Jam section, the Dave Matthews Band part, the U2 bridge. Impossibly high pitched U2 bridge, why do I write music out of my own range?
Depth of Mercy: A clear Jack Johnson rip-off.
And Can It Be That I Should Gain (Amazing Love): The newest one. Just a classic rock song. Needs a full band to really be appreciated.
O For a Heart to Praise My God: An upbeat bluegrassy tune. Needs slide guitar and Mr. Clayton Peak on banjo. Actually had to write a chorus for this one.
Jesus Thine All Victorious Love: A bluegrass ballad. Screams for a fiddle part.
Jesus, United By Thy Grace: This one's for the boys of Blessed. A complete, exact rip-off of our 8-minute, four-chord jam.
I have some other arrangements of non-Wesley tunes: Holy, Holy, Holy. There's Within My Heart a Melody. Psalm 29. For the Beauty of the Earth.
There are passionate, powerful words in our hymnal. But, the music doesn't exactly speak to my generation. Looking forward to sharing these songs with you whenever I can.
Love, Peace and Rock n' Roll,
Brad
For the past couple of years, I've been writing new tunes to Charles and John Wesley songs from the United Methodist Hymnal. My friend Mark, http://www.stupidityensues.blogspot.com/, found out that this is actually a real thing done by a guy named Carl Thomas Gladstone. Check out http://www.carlthomasgladstone.com/wesleyproject.htm. I wrote mine completely unaware that this was going on, but its pretty cool. My big brother Andy has rewritten quite a few, as well. He says there's usually two types of Charles Wesley hymns, the "fight song" type and the organ opera that's way too hard to sing.
Here's the problem. Modern songs need a chorus. If you want a congregation to be familiar with a song and sing along, the song needs a catchy, easy-to-sing, memorable repeated section. The biz talk for this is the hook. The song needs a hook. Charles Wesley didn't write hooks, he didn't know what they were. So, you've got to find a line within the song to use as a chorus. "Amazing love, how can it be, that thou my God would die for me?" from And Can it Be that I should Gain, is a great chorus.
Another problem is the language. I don't change the thee's and thou's, I kind of like them. But, some words that rhymed when Charles wrote them, don't rhyme any more. And, the line above is actually shouldst die for me, but who wants to sing the word shouldst?
So, here's a little song list that I've got so far.
Maker In Whom We Live: This is the first one I wrote, and it sounds like it. A regular G, C, D praise song.
Thou Hidden Source of Calm Repose: Never heard this one done in its original form. Probably a reason for that. The backward, Yoda speech of this one called for a reggae beat.
Praise to the Lord the Almighty: Not a Wesley song, but I'm pretty proud of this one because it uses not one, but TWO capos (that's right Mustoe, I did it, two capos) Ask your nearest guitar player what a capo is.
Christ Whose Glory Fills the Skies: A Pearl Jam-y slow rocker, needs a full band and a Ryan McLouth lead guitar line.
Jesus, Thy Boundless Love to Me: #183 in the UMC hymnal, a poem translated by John Wesley who called it the cry of his heart. I like this one.
O Love Divine, What Hast Thou Done: A beautiful song about the passion of Christ. Naturally, I did this one as a blues song.
Christ the Lord is Risen Today: A St. Paul favorite and probably the most complex one. Andy, Ron and Joel sat in the back picking out the Pearl Jam section, the Dave Matthews Band part, the U2 bridge. Impossibly high pitched U2 bridge, why do I write music out of my own range?
Depth of Mercy: A clear Jack Johnson rip-off.
And Can It Be That I Should Gain (Amazing Love): The newest one. Just a classic rock song. Needs a full band to really be appreciated.
O For a Heart to Praise My God: An upbeat bluegrassy tune. Needs slide guitar and Mr. Clayton Peak on banjo. Actually had to write a chorus for this one.
Jesus Thine All Victorious Love: A bluegrass ballad. Screams for a fiddle part.
Jesus, United By Thy Grace: This one's for the boys of Blessed. A complete, exact rip-off of our 8-minute, four-chord jam.
I have some other arrangements of non-Wesley tunes: Holy, Holy, Holy. There's Within My Heart a Melody. Psalm 29. For the Beauty of the Earth.
There are passionate, powerful words in our hymnal. But, the music doesn't exactly speak to my generation. Looking forward to sharing these songs with you whenever I can.
Love, Peace and Rock n' Roll,
Brad
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Shadows
I've spent my life living behind some pretty wide shadows. Not physically wide, of course, my brother can play hide and seek with a 2x4. But, you know what I mean. In two weeks, these shadows come together in what I alternately refer to as the perfect day and the perfect storm, depending on the kind of day I'm having.
The Bryan family is gearing up for our first family reunion in years. And, like all family events, the reunion begins at church. On August 10th, I will be guest preaching at Missouri United Methodist Church in Columbia, MO. Not only will this be the largest congregation to which I preach, but included in this congregation will be Bishop Monk Bryan, Rev. Jim Bryan, and Rev. Andy Bryan. And, since the Bishop Bryan will be in attendance, there's a good chance that the Bishop Schnase will be there.
This is clearly the biggest preaching day of my career. And while my sermon has been written for quite awhile, this is the most nervous I have ever been before any particular proclamation.
Let us dwell in the shadows for just a moment.
It is difficult enough to be a younger child. By virtue of age alone, your older siblings get things done before you. They graduate sooner, get jobs sooner, have children sooner. But, my brother Andy is no ordinary older sibling. An honor student, actually a rediculous honor student that worked hard and loved school. A proficeint musician. A "well-behaved" kid. Just about everything a parent could want in a child. And, a hero. One of the most profound moments of my life is seeing my brother cry after returning from a vacation and learning that his dog, Jackie, had died in the kennel while we were gone. Seeing my Superman break down tore me down. But what I was too young to know then was that my brother, instead of proving himself not a man, was redefining for me what it is to be a man. I actually wrote an essay for english about it called "Does Superman have super-emotions, too?" Sometimes, I can resent my brother. The pride in our parents' face, and specifically Daddy Monk's (that's the Bishop, our grandfather) presence at his ordination service. The collection of communion plates and chalices that mostly come from Grandfather's collection. The fact that Daddy Monk wants Andy to have his old piano even though he already has one. But, always, I love my brother. I am proud to be his brother. And I want him to be proud of me. And, there he'll be on Sunday morning, hearing the word from me.
Then there's Dad. Everything I know about being a man, being a pastor, being a husband (in 300 days), comes from him. Dad is a well-known, well-liked, well-respected elder in the Missouri Conference. A delegate to General and Jurisdictional conference numerous times. Exceptionally successful for a pastor. I live to make him proud. And I'll be preaching from his pulpit in two weeks.
I don't really need to go very deep into explaining why having Monk Bryan for a grandfather can be hard. I'm preaching at his old church, where he is the pastor emeritus. He's been going to Annual Conferences for 90 years, he was bishop of Nebraska. He is HUGE in the United Methodist Church.
So, yeah, little Brad has had a lot of shadows to deal with. I dream of the day that I can introduce myself at Annual Conference as Brad Bryan. Not Andy's brother, or Jim's son. I can't wait to have an interview with the Board of Ordained Ministry (the folks that kind of hold my career in the palms of their hands) that doesn't start with "I knew your Grandfather".
But as I get older, the shadows that seemed to hide me, the one big giant carrot held out before me that it seemed I would never reach, have become the trusses that hold me up, my bulwark never failing. I am not my brother, nor my dad. Although I have learned from them, I am a very different person. And I know that no one expects me to be anybody but myself, but the shadows of legacy will always be there.
Our family has been blessed to be able to be involved in God's work for generations, but I, just like my father, will tell my children that under no circumstances should they become pastors.
I am proud of my family, I am proud to be a part of it. But, I want people to respect me, my gifts, and my call. In two weeks, at my father's current church, my grandfather's former church, with my brother doing music and my grandfather baptizing my sister's son, Braeden, I hope that I can show them, but mainly myself, that I can stand on my own two feet.
Monk, Cornielle, Glenn and Carmen's grandson, Jim and Caryl's baby boy, Andy and Stephanie's little brother, Cori, Wes and Braeden's uncle and Fiona's dad, Bradley James Bryan.
The Bryan family is gearing up for our first family reunion in years. And, like all family events, the reunion begins at church. On August 10th, I will be guest preaching at Missouri United Methodist Church in Columbia, MO. Not only will this be the largest congregation to which I preach, but included in this congregation will be Bishop Monk Bryan, Rev. Jim Bryan, and Rev. Andy Bryan. And, since the Bishop Bryan will be in attendance, there's a good chance that the Bishop Schnase will be there.
This is clearly the biggest preaching day of my career. And while my sermon has been written for quite awhile, this is the most nervous I have ever been before any particular proclamation.
Let us dwell in the shadows for just a moment.
It is difficult enough to be a younger child. By virtue of age alone, your older siblings get things done before you. They graduate sooner, get jobs sooner, have children sooner. But, my brother Andy is no ordinary older sibling. An honor student, actually a rediculous honor student that worked hard and loved school. A proficeint musician. A "well-behaved" kid. Just about everything a parent could want in a child. And, a hero. One of the most profound moments of my life is seeing my brother cry after returning from a vacation and learning that his dog, Jackie, had died in the kennel while we were gone. Seeing my Superman break down tore me down. But what I was too young to know then was that my brother, instead of proving himself not a man, was redefining for me what it is to be a man. I actually wrote an essay for english about it called "Does Superman have super-emotions, too?" Sometimes, I can resent my brother. The pride in our parents' face, and specifically Daddy Monk's (that's the Bishop, our grandfather) presence at his ordination service. The collection of communion plates and chalices that mostly come from Grandfather's collection. The fact that Daddy Monk wants Andy to have his old piano even though he already has one. But, always, I love my brother. I am proud to be his brother. And I want him to be proud of me. And, there he'll be on Sunday morning, hearing the word from me.
Then there's Dad. Everything I know about being a man, being a pastor, being a husband (in 300 days), comes from him. Dad is a well-known, well-liked, well-respected elder in the Missouri Conference. A delegate to General and Jurisdictional conference numerous times. Exceptionally successful for a pastor. I live to make him proud. And I'll be preaching from his pulpit in two weeks.
I don't really need to go very deep into explaining why having Monk Bryan for a grandfather can be hard. I'm preaching at his old church, where he is the pastor emeritus. He's been going to Annual Conferences for 90 years, he was bishop of Nebraska. He is HUGE in the United Methodist Church.
So, yeah, little Brad has had a lot of shadows to deal with. I dream of the day that I can introduce myself at Annual Conference as Brad Bryan. Not Andy's brother, or Jim's son. I can't wait to have an interview with the Board of Ordained Ministry (the folks that kind of hold my career in the palms of their hands) that doesn't start with "I knew your Grandfather".
But as I get older, the shadows that seemed to hide me, the one big giant carrot held out before me that it seemed I would never reach, have become the trusses that hold me up, my bulwark never failing. I am not my brother, nor my dad. Although I have learned from them, I am a very different person. And I know that no one expects me to be anybody but myself, but the shadows of legacy will always be there.
Our family has been blessed to be able to be involved in God's work for generations, but I, just like my father, will tell my children that under no circumstances should they become pastors.
I am proud of my family, I am proud to be a part of it. But, I want people to respect me, my gifts, and my call. In two weeks, at my father's current church, my grandfather's former church, with my brother doing music and my grandfather baptizing my sister's son, Braeden, I hope that I can show them, but mainly myself, that I can stand on my own two feet.
Monk, Cornielle, Glenn and Carmen's grandson, Jim and Caryl's baby boy, Andy and Stephanie's little brother, Cori, Wes and Braeden's uncle and Fiona's dad, Bradley James Bryan.
New Features
Hey guys,
I know its nothing drastic or anything but I've made a few changes to the ol' blog. First, I feel I've lightened up a bit since I started the Bustle, so I'm lightening the color. What do you think?
Also, I have finally put up links to some other blogs. If your name is not Adam and you'd like a link here, just let me know. And finally, I've started the poll of the week feature. I love reading comments. But what's the one negative thing about reading comments? Reading, right. So, each week I'll ask a different question and poll all you wonderful people and then explain why your wrong! For a while, it will be different variations of "Who's the Greatest?" This week, guitar players.
Hope you like it.
BB
I know its nothing drastic or anything but I've made a few changes to the ol' blog. First, I feel I've lightened up a bit since I started the Bustle, so I'm lightening the color. What do you think?
Also, I have finally put up links to some other blogs. If your name is not Adam and you'd like a link here, just let me know. And finally, I've started the poll of the week feature. I love reading comments. But what's the one negative thing about reading comments? Reading, right. So, each week I'll ask a different question and poll all you wonderful people and then explain why your wrong! For a while, it will be different variations of "Who's the Greatest?" This week, guitar players.
Hope you like it.
BB
Friday, July 25, 2008
Curse Words
Alright Mom, I love you, but let's do this.
I curse. I curse around my friends. I curse around my colleagues. And I curse in ranting blogs when my acceptance of the stupidity of our humanity reaches a boiling point.
I don't curse around you, kids, my parishoners and my professional/educational superiors.
There's a button inside that automatically switches off the bad words when certain people are around. So, yes, America, I use curse words. Just like most EVERYONE else. Oh, and any youth group kids that know I have a blog, they curse when we're not around too.
I'm not afraid of people in my churches knowing that I sometimes use these words, I think the percentage of people whose opinion and respect for me as pastor would go down is quite small. But where I agree with my beautiful, wonderful, loving mother and her incessant "mom" comment after a particular lar (long, angry rant) is professionally.
I learned at this Annual Conference that a lot of people read my blog. A lot of people in the ministry life will come over through the link on my big bro's blog. And I've heard the argument that you should treat your online persona-blogs, facebook pages, etc.-as a constant resume and job application.
Well, if Bishop Schnase or any members of the cabinet spend 5 minutes of their day reading my personal, ranting, insignificant thoughts on this hard-to-find, purposely-misspelled drop in the ocean of the blogosphere, then welcome. This is who I am. Sometimes I use extreme language when my feelings on a certain subject are extreme. AND if they do stop by and see the occasional curse word or insult thrown Bill O'Reilly's way and it has a negative effect on my career, then...well...I don't want to be something I'm not to get a job. (hmm, that sounds like another l.a.r. directed at the UMC, making people be something they aren't so they serve in ministry!)
So yeah, I curse. Not in conversation. Not for no reason. I curse when I'm mad, frustrated or in pain. Like a human. And when people are being stupid, petty, greedy and selfish my language can get judgemental. Like a human.
Mother, I love you so very much. I live to make you proud. And I never want you to stop "mothering" me about my taxes and language and eating habits. But, maybe if you could stop doing it on the comments page for all my friends to read!!
Human...being,
Brad
I curse. I curse around my friends. I curse around my colleagues. And I curse in ranting blogs when my acceptance of the stupidity of our humanity reaches a boiling point.
I don't curse around you, kids, my parishoners and my professional/educational superiors.
There's a button inside that automatically switches off the bad words when certain people are around. So, yes, America, I use curse words. Just like most EVERYONE else. Oh, and any youth group kids that know I have a blog, they curse when we're not around too.
I'm not afraid of people in my churches knowing that I sometimes use these words, I think the percentage of people whose opinion and respect for me as pastor would go down is quite small. But where I agree with my beautiful, wonderful, loving mother and her incessant "mom" comment after a particular lar (long, angry rant) is professionally.
I learned at this Annual Conference that a lot of people read my blog. A lot of people in the ministry life will come over through the link on my big bro's blog. And I've heard the argument that you should treat your online persona-blogs, facebook pages, etc.-as a constant resume and job application.
Well, if Bishop Schnase or any members of the cabinet spend 5 minutes of their day reading my personal, ranting, insignificant thoughts on this hard-to-find, purposely-misspelled drop in the ocean of the blogosphere, then welcome. This is who I am. Sometimes I use extreme language when my feelings on a certain subject are extreme. AND if they do stop by and see the occasional curse word or insult thrown Bill O'Reilly's way and it has a negative effect on my career, then...well...I don't want to be something I'm not to get a job. (hmm, that sounds like another l.a.r. directed at the UMC, making people be something they aren't so they serve in ministry!)
So yeah, I curse. Not in conversation. Not for no reason. I curse when I'm mad, frustrated or in pain. Like a human. And when people are being stupid, petty, greedy and selfish my language can get judgemental. Like a human.
Mother, I love you so very much. I live to make you proud. And I never want you to stop "mothering" me about my taxes and language and eating habits. But, maybe if you could stop doing it on the comments page for all my friends to read!!
Human...being,
Brad
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Are You Ready for Some...Whiny, Spoiled, Overpayed, Greedy, Selfish Grown Men Acting Like Babies
Well, football fans, its that time of year once again. Our favorite teams are going back to work, getting ready to bring us quality football for another season. And then there's Devon Hestor, Chad Johnson, Plaxico Burress and other NFL players who are refusing to show up for team practices until they get more money in their contract.
In what fantasy world does this work. How do they not just get fired? This isn't a union, by the way, they aren't striking. They are unhappy with the contract THEY SIGNED and are holding out for more money. Any other job in the world, the boss would say, "alright, see ya, good luck."
These grown men, these professional athletes who get paid for playing a game better than the rest of us, just are satisfied with the millions of dollars they recieve for running fast and catching balls. They want more millions. They are greedy, selfish a-holes. Excuse me.
Hey, NFL contract hold-outs, you look rediculous. You're acting like babies. Shut the frack up and play football.
What if our doctors wouldn't operate until they got more money? And, on the other side of that same coin, they are so many more deserving people who SHOULD not go to work until they get more money: teachers, police and firefighters, soldiers, the men and women who build our roads, maintain our bridges.
These men aren't just playing their fiddles while the world is burning, they want gold-plated strings.
So, you whiny little brats, shut your mouths, take your millions, thank your gift horses, go to practice and PLAY!
I love football,
BB
In what fantasy world does this work. How do they not just get fired? This isn't a union, by the way, they aren't striking. They are unhappy with the contract THEY SIGNED and are holding out for more money. Any other job in the world, the boss would say, "alright, see ya, good luck."
These grown men, these professional athletes who get paid for playing a game better than the rest of us, just are satisfied with the millions of dollars they recieve for running fast and catching balls. They want more millions. They are greedy, selfish a-holes. Excuse me.
Hey, NFL contract hold-outs, you look rediculous. You're acting like babies. Shut the frack up and play football.
What if our doctors wouldn't operate until they got more money? And, on the other side of that same coin, they are so many more deserving people who SHOULD not go to work until they get more money: teachers, police and firefighters, soldiers, the men and women who build our roads, maintain our bridges.
These men aren't just playing their fiddles while the world is burning, they want gold-plated strings.
So, you whiny little brats, shut your mouths, take your millions, thank your gift horses, go to practice and PLAY!
I love football,
BB
Monday, July 21, 2008
Camp Jo-Ota 2008/Batman Review
The extreme lameness of this post title is due to the myriad of possible titles floating through my head: "There's Still Mud in My Ears", "I Wanna Be like Mike", "Everything I Ever Needed to Know I Learned from a 12-yr-old named Kody", "The Most Exhausting Week of My Life", "B-Rad Jeezy", "Best Batman? Try Best Superhero Movie Ever", "Yeah, That's Right. Batman has Sonar Now". All equally potential titles.
So, first for camp. Thanks to Abby for asking me to be a counselor; it was a great week. Here's some highlights. Crazy Kickball/Mudpit night was thursday. First base: a bucket of water to dunk your head in. Second: a tarp full of cooked spaghetti, baked beans, chocolate and vanilla pudding with a mandatory slide rule. Third: A kiddie pool full of shaving cream. And home: the classic slip and slide. Awesome stuff. Still waiting for the sliding into home picture of me from Abby! Then we went to play around in the giant mud pit, tried to play some actual games but the communication skills of Sarge were, shall we say, lacking a bit, so we just had a free-for-all. The sight of our not-too-small everyjobman Donnie running at me through the mud is the scariest thing I've ever seen.
And then there was Mike. The 20-yr-old male model counselor whose only job was to make us chubby musically talented, movie geek counselors feel bad about themselves. Adam Fears and I gave him a pretty hard time all week, but it is out of pure jealousy. BUT THEN, when I said I could look like that by next summer Mike said, and I quote, "That's impossible." I request, Abby, that you have me back next year just to prove him wrong!
The conversations that 12 year old boys have late at night or in cabin time are simply astounding. We had politics, McCain vs. Obama, the true cause of the war in Iraq, how many of them had officially "made-out". But, especially enlightening was Kody. Ah, Kody. Kody is an expert on the origins of things like hotdogs (stolen from a guy in Italy and sold in front of Yankee stadium), an aspiring entomologist (the pegasus beetle has a horn like a unicorn) and a fishing pro (if you curve your hand into the water to mimic a feeding frenzy, the fish will come flocking). Thank you, Kody.
I'm still tired. I'm still sore from wrestling and throwing kids in the pool (sometimes six at a time) But it really was a wonderful week.
And now, to the main event. The Dark Knight. I'm going to talk about everything here, so if you care, read it after you've seen it. This is not only the best Batman ever, it is the best superhero movie ever made. Its dark, its powerful and its entertaining. Some reasons its the best ever? Sure. Batman's tougher than ever. He gets a new suit so he can turn his head and actually fight without the awkward turn-with-your-whole-upper-body moves of past Batman. He has freakin' sonar vision in his suit...redunkulous.
And then there's the Joker. The creepiest villian since lector and the best villian since Darth Vader. In one opening scene he says, "how 'bout a magic trick?" He sticks a pencil into the table and says he's going to make it disappear. When a thug comes up and tries to front on 'im, the Joker takes the guys neck and throws his head into the table, effectively making the pencil disappear into the guys face! Holy crap! The way he licks his lips, that voice, the way we never really know the real way he got those scars. Ew, creepy.
Other reasons: the damsel in distress gets blown to pieces, the final main fight is between Batman and the swat team not the Joker. And the questions! Can we be good in an evil world? Did Batman inspire good or inspire madness? Do we die a hero or live long enough to see ourselves become the villian? If given an impossible choice, what would we do? Does a hero have to play by the villian's rules to ever be victorious? Unbelievable. Batman, Joker, Two-Face, Rachael, Alfred, Comissioner Gordon, everyone was brilliant. Clearly, Heath should get the Oscar. His voice, his lip-licking tic, his eyes. Greatest bad guy performance in any movie...ever!
I've seen it twice already and it only gets better.
Well, there's an update from the summer of Brad. Coming up: family reunion, Lindsey's b-day, Jack Johnson.
Peace, B
So, first for camp. Thanks to Abby for asking me to be a counselor; it was a great week. Here's some highlights. Crazy Kickball/Mudpit night was thursday. First base: a bucket of water to dunk your head in. Second: a tarp full of cooked spaghetti, baked beans, chocolate and vanilla pudding with a mandatory slide rule. Third: A kiddie pool full of shaving cream. And home: the classic slip and slide. Awesome stuff. Still waiting for the sliding into home picture of me from Abby! Then we went to play around in the giant mud pit, tried to play some actual games but the communication skills of Sarge were, shall we say, lacking a bit, so we just had a free-for-all. The sight of our not-too-small everyjobman Donnie running at me through the mud is the scariest thing I've ever seen.
And then there was Mike. The 20-yr-old male model counselor whose only job was to make us chubby musically talented, movie geek counselors feel bad about themselves. Adam Fears and I gave him a pretty hard time all week, but it is out of pure jealousy. BUT THEN, when I said I could look like that by next summer Mike said, and I quote, "That's impossible." I request, Abby, that you have me back next year just to prove him wrong!
The conversations that 12 year old boys have late at night or in cabin time are simply astounding. We had politics, McCain vs. Obama, the true cause of the war in Iraq, how many of them had officially "made-out". But, especially enlightening was Kody. Ah, Kody. Kody is an expert on the origins of things like hotdogs (stolen from a guy in Italy and sold in front of Yankee stadium), an aspiring entomologist (the pegasus beetle has a horn like a unicorn) and a fishing pro (if you curve your hand into the water to mimic a feeding frenzy, the fish will come flocking). Thank you, Kody.
I'm still tired. I'm still sore from wrestling and throwing kids in the pool (sometimes six at a time) But it really was a wonderful week.
And now, to the main event. The Dark Knight. I'm going to talk about everything here, so if you care, read it after you've seen it. This is not only the best Batman ever, it is the best superhero movie ever made. Its dark, its powerful and its entertaining. Some reasons its the best ever? Sure. Batman's tougher than ever. He gets a new suit so he can turn his head and actually fight without the awkward turn-with-your-whole-upper-body moves of past Batman. He has freakin' sonar vision in his suit...redunkulous.
And then there's the Joker. The creepiest villian since lector and the best villian since Darth Vader. In one opening scene he says, "how 'bout a magic trick?" He sticks a pencil into the table and says he's going to make it disappear. When a thug comes up and tries to front on 'im, the Joker takes the guys neck and throws his head into the table, effectively making the pencil disappear into the guys face! Holy crap! The way he licks his lips, that voice, the way we never really know the real way he got those scars. Ew, creepy.
Other reasons: the damsel in distress gets blown to pieces, the final main fight is between Batman and the swat team not the Joker. And the questions! Can we be good in an evil world? Did Batman inspire good or inspire madness? Do we die a hero or live long enough to see ourselves become the villian? If given an impossible choice, what would we do? Does a hero have to play by the villian's rules to ever be victorious? Unbelievable. Batman, Joker, Two-Face, Rachael, Alfred, Comissioner Gordon, everyone was brilliant. Clearly, Heath should get the Oscar. His voice, his lip-licking tic, his eyes. Greatest bad guy performance in any movie...ever!
I've seen it twice already and it only gets better.
Well, there's an update from the summer of Brad. Coming up: family reunion, Lindsey's b-day, Jack Johnson.
Peace, B
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Come To My Window
Dear Melissa Etheridge,
I must begin by saying that I'm not really fan. It's no big deal; your stuff just isn't my stuff. But your obviously a brilliant song writer and seem like a great person. I want to talk to you about something you said in your Rolling Stone interview last month. I want to talk about it because in one sentence you rejected and affirmed everything I'm trying to do with my life. And I quote, "Religion is an oppresive form of crowd control, but what I understand now is the idea that we are all one, that we come from this one higher consciousness and that we are here to create the kingdom of heaven on Earth." You can probably guess what I'm going to say: I agree with the latter and reject the former.
Ms. Etheridge, I am an United Methodist pastor, a representative of religion, and I must apologize for the ways religion has been used in the past. Religion, as I understand it, is simply the search for a connection between humankind and the rest of creation to the divine. So, whatever, however, wherever, one connects to the divine, that's religion. And, again in my understanding, creating the kingdom of heaven on Earth is exactly what religion should be doing.
Your faithful friend,
Brad Bryan
I'm tired, my friends. Tired of the way secular society sees us. Tired of how Christians are portrayed in the media, tired of how Christians portray themselves on the street. This Melissa Etheride thing is really only the last straw. I first watched an episode of 30 Days that housed an Evangelical, anti-gay rights mother with a gay couple that had two adopted kids. While the gay couple seemed intelligent, open-minded and compassionate, the "good Christian woman" who wouldn't be moved or changed in any way seemed like an ignorant, hate-filled bigot. Since then, I've been watching the tv shows for portrayals of Christians and Christianity. We have Robertson of the 700 Club, we have John Hagee who says "God caused the Holocaust" (WHAT?!), Obama's former pastor with "God Damn America" from the pulpit. Last night on Nightline they interviewed a faith healer. A faith healer! What century is this? I'm not going to put a limit on how God works, or through whom, but as I listened to this man scream at me, scream, that Jesus wants me, I thought "this guy?"
Message to the secular world, those people who happen not to go to church, NOT ALL CHRISTIANS ARE CRAZY! Not all of us are hateful, ignorant, arrogant, spoiled brats. Yes, about half of us are against civil rights for homosexual people. But, that means half of us are for them! And even those people that I know who hold opposite positions than I on the subject, they don't object from a place of hate, they aren't hateful, bad people. Misguided and a little naive maybe, but not hateful.
In fact, Ms. Etheridge and the rest of you with a negative opinion of Christians, most of us are quite normal; intelligent, free-thinking, hard-working, fun-loving normal people. Like everyone else, we are trying to find our way in this world and through this live and we just happen to find meaning and purpose, love, hope and peace in the life and teaching of Jesus. I am sorry for the hateful and hurtful words and behaviors of some of my brothers and sisters in Christ. I am sorry for how we have represented our tradition. I am sorry for people like Robertson, Falwell and Hagee who say things that are, frankly, just stupid.
And to all my normal Christian friends out there, stand up and be counted. People are laughing at us. The people we are supposed to be reaching. Stand up! Anyone who doesn't have all the answers, stand up. Anyone who's just trying to figure out why we're here, stand up. Anyone who knows that reading Harry Potter does not, in fact, turn children into witches and wizards, stand up.
It is time, brothers and sisters, to take Christianity back from the crazy people.
Love, peace, rock n' roll, Brad
I must begin by saying that I'm not really fan. It's no big deal; your stuff just isn't my stuff. But your obviously a brilliant song writer and seem like a great person. I want to talk to you about something you said in your Rolling Stone interview last month. I want to talk about it because in one sentence you rejected and affirmed everything I'm trying to do with my life. And I quote, "Religion is an oppresive form of crowd control, but what I understand now is the idea that we are all one, that we come from this one higher consciousness and that we are here to create the kingdom of heaven on Earth." You can probably guess what I'm going to say: I agree with the latter and reject the former.
Ms. Etheridge, I am an United Methodist pastor, a representative of religion, and I must apologize for the ways religion has been used in the past. Religion, as I understand it, is simply the search for a connection between humankind and the rest of creation to the divine. So, whatever, however, wherever, one connects to the divine, that's religion. And, again in my understanding, creating the kingdom of heaven on Earth is exactly what religion should be doing.
Your faithful friend,
Brad Bryan
I'm tired, my friends. Tired of the way secular society sees us. Tired of how Christians are portrayed in the media, tired of how Christians portray themselves on the street. This Melissa Etheride thing is really only the last straw. I first watched an episode of 30 Days that housed an Evangelical, anti-gay rights mother with a gay couple that had two adopted kids. While the gay couple seemed intelligent, open-minded and compassionate, the "good Christian woman" who wouldn't be moved or changed in any way seemed like an ignorant, hate-filled bigot. Since then, I've been watching the tv shows for portrayals of Christians and Christianity. We have Robertson of the 700 Club, we have John Hagee who says "God caused the Holocaust" (WHAT?!), Obama's former pastor with "God Damn America" from the pulpit. Last night on Nightline they interviewed a faith healer. A faith healer! What century is this? I'm not going to put a limit on how God works, or through whom, but as I listened to this man scream at me, scream, that Jesus wants me, I thought "this guy?"
Message to the secular world, those people who happen not to go to church, NOT ALL CHRISTIANS ARE CRAZY! Not all of us are hateful, ignorant, arrogant, spoiled brats. Yes, about half of us are against civil rights for homosexual people. But, that means half of us are for them! And even those people that I know who hold opposite positions than I on the subject, they don't object from a place of hate, they aren't hateful, bad people. Misguided and a little naive maybe, but not hateful.
In fact, Ms. Etheridge and the rest of you with a negative opinion of Christians, most of us are quite normal; intelligent, free-thinking, hard-working, fun-loving normal people. Like everyone else, we are trying to find our way in this world and through this live and we just happen to find meaning and purpose, love, hope and peace in the life and teaching of Jesus. I am sorry for the hateful and hurtful words and behaviors of some of my brothers and sisters in Christ. I am sorry for how we have represented our tradition. I am sorry for people like Robertson, Falwell and Hagee who say things that are, frankly, just stupid.
And to all my normal Christian friends out there, stand up and be counted. People are laughing at us. The people we are supposed to be reaching. Stand up! Anyone who doesn't have all the answers, stand up. Anyone who's just trying to figure out why we're here, stand up. Anyone who knows that reading Harry Potter does not, in fact, turn children into witches and wizards, stand up.
It is time, brothers and sisters, to take Christianity back from the crazy people.
Love, peace, rock n' roll, Brad
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Annual Conference 2008
So, I've spent a full month reflecting on the 2008 session of the Missouri Annual Conference. The following few paragraphs are quite simply those reflections poured out into the blogosphere.
I first want to say a few words about the logistics of Annual Conference. We need to decide if the AC is a business meeting or an educational opportunity. Because attempting to make it both takes away from both. I am of the opinion that the AC should be strictly business and that we should strengthen minister's school which is supposed to be our educational opportunity. I admit that the planners and facilitators of AC have probably the hardest job in the state. But, the Conference should take the responsibility to make Minister's School a stronger and more productive time and stop trying to make AC be Minister's school. (Some of this has to do with not bookending Minister's School with other conference board meetings so that no one cares or has the energy for learning together)
OK, that's it for the logistics. Now for a little deeper reflection.
The question is not, my friends, "And Are We Yet Alive?" The question has become, "What Are We Living For?" Are we living to save the institution and corporation of the United Methodist Church? Or, are we living to serve the mission of God? Um, I'm going to go ahead and not answer that question; just putting it out there. Seriously, what are we, the United Methodist Church, living for?
I also learned that a lot of people read this blog; more people than I thought. Most of those people find me through Andy's blog I'm sure. So, Andy, I'd like this blog to reach some people. Perhaps you can link 'em my way. Thanks for reading, folks. I'm going to try and keep a more regular and meaningful blogging schedule.
I also learned that Matt Miofsky is my new hero. Matt, I was one of those people who was sick of hearing your name, talking about your church at every District and Conference event, seeing your picture in every issue of the Reporter. But then you go and do something like this...and TOTALLY REDEEM YOURSELF. No formulas, no magic secrets, no books. Just community. Just culturally, personally, scripturally, ethically, spiritually relevant worship. But the best, nay the most profound, thing you said and I quote "We're doing fine with the new wineskins, but what is the new wine we are offering?" Fantastic. Amen. So say we all.
Staying with the theme of young adult pastors that I had at one point been tired of hearing about and now have an unmatched respect for: what Emmanuel Cleaver III did with the hip-hop worship service is EXACTLY my vision for a rock and roll worship service. The pillars of hip-hop around which the service is built, the culture to which it speaks, all of that can be done in the rock community. Electric guitars, tatoos, slam-dancing, its all the rock culture and needs to be spoken to by the church.
While I stand with my brother on the overall theme, attitude and success of this year's Annual Conference (the theme of "you guys suck and why can't you do it like this") I am trying to stay more positive, so I want to talk about the best thing of the weekend. If we needed any proof that EVERYTHING we know about church is wrong and EVERYTHING we're doing is on the wrong path, it was the choir of orphans from Uganda that sang and danced for us and shared their overflowing joy. First of all, the choir started BEFORE the actual session started so a lot of people missed it. But as they were singing and dancing and telling their stories, I turned to my brother and said those words, "Everything we're doing is wrong." When's the last time you were joyous in worship? Or joyous anywhere? Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, my brothers and sisters in Christ for opening your souls to us and opening my eyes to my own.
The best and holiest conferencing that happened: in the back, conversing with my friends, Joel Kidwell, Michael Dunlap, Richard Fine, Dennis Harper, EC3, David Hutchison and all the others. Thanks for sharing your time with me.
What are we living for? Are we living for the survival of the institution of the United Methodist Church? Are we growing because if we don't we'll die? Or are we living to simply serve the mission of God in this world, EVEN IF, that mission means the death of the denomination?
What good is a man who won't take a stand, what good is a cynic with no better plan? I believe there's a better way.
Brad
ps; to whom it may concern, can we PLEASE not have some megachurches anonymous boring praise band play our opening worship? And can we PLEASE have more worship? My better plan...uh...ME! I'll play, I'll play, I'll play.
I first want to say a few words about the logistics of Annual Conference. We need to decide if the AC is a business meeting or an educational opportunity. Because attempting to make it both takes away from both. I am of the opinion that the AC should be strictly business and that we should strengthen minister's school which is supposed to be our educational opportunity. I admit that the planners and facilitators of AC have probably the hardest job in the state. But, the Conference should take the responsibility to make Minister's School a stronger and more productive time and stop trying to make AC be Minister's school. (Some of this has to do with not bookending Minister's School with other conference board meetings so that no one cares or has the energy for learning together)
OK, that's it for the logistics. Now for a little deeper reflection.
The question is not, my friends, "And Are We Yet Alive?" The question has become, "What Are We Living For?" Are we living to save the institution and corporation of the United Methodist Church? Or, are we living to serve the mission of God? Um, I'm going to go ahead and not answer that question; just putting it out there. Seriously, what are we, the United Methodist Church, living for?
I also learned that a lot of people read this blog; more people than I thought. Most of those people find me through Andy's blog I'm sure. So, Andy, I'd like this blog to reach some people. Perhaps you can link 'em my way. Thanks for reading, folks. I'm going to try and keep a more regular and meaningful blogging schedule.
I also learned that Matt Miofsky is my new hero. Matt, I was one of those people who was sick of hearing your name, talking about your church at every District and Conference event, seeing your picture in every issue of the Reporter. But then you go and do something like this...and TOTALLY REDEEM YOURSELF. No formulas, no magic secrets, no books. Just community. Just culturally, personally, scripturally, ethically, spiritually relevant worship. But the best, nay the most profound, thing you said and I quote "We're doing fine with the new wineskins, but what is the new wine we are offering?" Fantastic. Amen. So say we all.
Staying with the theme of young adult pastors that I had at one point been tired of hearing about and now have an unmatched respect for: what Emmanuel Cleaver III did with the hip-hop worship service is EXACTLY my vision for a rock and roll worship service. The pillars of hip-hop around which the service is built, the culture to which it speaks, all of that can be done in the rock community. Electric guitars, tatoos, slam-dancing, its all the rock culture and needs to be spoken to by the church.
While I stand with my brother on the overall theme, attitude and success of this year's Annual Conference (the theme of "you guys suck and why can't you do it like this") I am trying to stay more positive, so I want to talk about the best thing of the weekend. If we needed any proof that EVERYTHING we know about church is wrong and EVERYTHING we're doing is on the wrong path, it was the choir of orphans from Uganda that sang and danced for us and shared their overflowing joy. First of all, the choir started BEFORE the actual session started so a lot of people missed it. But as they were singing and dancing and telling their stories, I turned to my brother and said those words, "Everything we're doing is wrong." When's the last time you were joyous in worship? Or joyous anywhere? Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, my brothers and sisters in Christ for opening your souls to us and opening my eyes to my own.
The best and holiest conferencing that happened: in the back, conversing with my friends, Joel Kidwell, Michael Dunlap, Richard Fine, Dennis Harper, EC3, David Hutchison and all the others. Thanks for sharing your time with me.
What are we living for? Are we living for the survival of the institution of the United Methodist Church? Are we growing because if we don't we'll die? Or are we living to simply serve the mission of God in this world, EVEN IF, that mission means the death of the denomination?
What good is a man who won't take a stand, what good is a cynic with no better plan? I believe there's a better way.
Brad
ps; to whom it may concern, can we PLEASE not have some megachurches anonymous boring praise band play our opening worship? And can we PLEASE have more worship? My better plan...uh...ME! I'll play, I'll play, I'll play.
Friday, June 27, 2008
At the Movies
I just know that the world is dying to know all of my wonderful ideas about recent motion picture activities so here goes.
We're gonna focus on three movies, Indy, the Hulk, and Iron Man, and I am going to talk about the endings so, if you care read on, my friend.
First, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. Eh. It's alright, not great. Here's the thing. Harrison Ford was awesome, Indy's back. It's Speilberg and Lucas that screwed the pooch on this one. The writing, Lucas, wasn't great. Plot, eh. And the directing, Speilberg, too much computer. What was great about the first movies was that when Indy was being dragged behind a truck, Indy was being dragged behind a truck! And now there's sword fights straddling two jeeps and some weird Tarzan moment swinging through the trees with the monkies, both clearly CGI. And, do I really need to talk about the aliens and the UFO? I know, I've done my research, those elongated skulls are a real thing in a real tomb in Mexico somewhere. But, come on, do we really need to see the UFO take off? This isn't Close Encounters, Stevie! This is Indy, stunts, sarcasm, Nazis. I figured it out: Indy's One and Three, Dr. Jones is looking for the Ark of the Covenant and the Holy Grail, respectively. Indy's Two and Four, Sankara stones and the crystal skull...uh...who cares.
Now, the Incredible Hulk. Oh, Hulk, I don't know big guy. I just don't think you're a leading role. Now, the last 20 minutes, the fight between the TWO hulks, un-freakin'-believable. But, the whole rest of it. Eh. Again, it was good, it was a fine movie. Not great. But, can we please talk about the ending?!?!?! At the very end, as a kind of coda, none other than Tony Stark (Ironman) walks in to the bar and tells the general, "What if I told you we're putting a team together?" What?! A team!! Whose team, what team? Are the Hulk and Iron Man making a movie? Are there more Marvel characters joining this team? Next summer, will there be an Iron Man, Hulk, Wolverine, Fantastic Four, Daredevil, Elektra, and Spiderman movie!!!!?????? Oh the possibilities. I'm salavating.
Oh yeah, and Iron Man!! Awesome. Just awesome. Like my brother said, there's not one once of estrogen in the entire film. To which I said, I know, I thought it was awesome too! Robert Downey Jr. is perfect. Jeff Bridges (the dude abides) is perfect. Terrance Howard and Gweneth, flawless as always. You know why Iron man and Batman are my favorites? They have no powers! Uh, Superman is an alien people, how fair is that? Iron man and Batman are just smart, and rich, with an attitude. And Iron Man, the movie, was rediculous. Awesome, awesome stuff.
Well, that's it. Two "eh"s and one "heck yes". Had a good weekend at the Mustoe's wedding and having fun/stressing out getting ours in order. Lots of things are falling into place, and we are saving a lot of money in a lot of areas, but it is still astounding to me how much money is invovled in this day. Its like people sit around and only think about how they can take your money. People are starving around the world, but we have to pay the caterer A DOLLAR PER FORK!! Uh, no thanks, next please. But, we're having fun and its endlessly exciting.
Hang in there, Dru. Hang in there, Melody. Congrats and good luck, Andy. Congrats and good luck, Mustoes.
Peace, BB
We're gonna focus on three movies, Indy, the Hulk, and Iron Man, and I am going to talk about the endings so, if you care read on, my friend.
First, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. Eh. It's alright, not great. Here's the thing. Harrison Ford was awesome, Indy's back. It's Speilberg and Lucas that screwed the pooch on this one. The writing, Lucas, wasn't great. Plot, eh. And the directing, Speilberg, too much computer. What was great about the first movies was that when Indy was being dragged behind a truck, Indy was being dragged behind a truck! And now there's sword fights straddling two jeeps and some weird Tarzan moment swinging through the trees with the monkies, both clearly CGI. And, do I really need to talk about the aliens and the UFO? I know, I've done my research, those elongated skulls are a real thing in a real tomb in Mexico somewhere. But, come on, do we really need to see the UFO take off? This isn't Close Encounters, Stevie! This is Indy, stunts, sarcasm, Nazis. I figured it out: Indy's One and Three, Dr. Jones is looking for the Ark of the Covenant and the Holy Grail, respectively. Indy's Two and Four, Sankara stones and the crystal skull...uh...who cares.
Now, the Incredible Hulk. Oh, Hulk, I don't know big guy. I just don't think you're a leading role. Now, the last 20 minutes, the fight between the TWO hulks, un-freakin'-believable. But, the whole rest of it. Eh. Again, it was good, it was a fine movie. Not great. But, can we please talk about the ending?!?!?! At the very end, as a kind of coda, none other than Tony Stark (Ironman) walks in to the bar and tells the general, "What if I told you we're putting a team together?" What?! A team!! Whose team, what team? Are the Hulk and Iron Man making a movie? Are there more Marvel characters joining this team? Next summer, will there be an Iron Man, Hulk, Wolverine, Fantastic Four, Daredevil, Elektra, and Spiderman movie!!!!?????? Oh the possibilities. I'm salavating.
Oh yeah, and Iron Man!! Awesome. Just awesome. Like my brother said, there's not one once of estrogen in the entire film. To which I said, I know, I thought it was awesome too! Robert Downey Jr. is perfect. Jeff Bridges (the dude abides) is perfect. Terrance Howard and Gweneth, flawless as always. You know why Iron man and Batman are my favorites? They have no powers! Uh, Superman is an alien people, how fair is that? Iron man and Batman are just smart, and rich, with an attitude. And Iron Man, the movie, was rediculous. Awesome, awesome stuff.
Well, that's it. Two "eh"s and one "heck yes". Had a good weekend at the Mustoe's wedding and having fun/stressing out getting ours in order. Lots of things are falling into place, and we are saving a lot of money in a lot of areas, but it is still astounding to me how much money is invovled in this day. Its like people sit around and only think about how they can take your money. People are starving around the world, but we have to pay the caterer A DOLLAR PER FORK!! Uh, no thanks, next please. But, we're having fun and its endlessly exciting.
Hang in there, Dru. Hang in there, Melody. Congrats and good luck, Andy. Congrats and good luck, Mustoes.
Peace, BB
Sunday, June 15, 2008
For Melody
Psalm 121
I lift my eyes to the hills-
From where does my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth.
God will not let your foot be moved;
God who keeps you will not slumber.
God who keeps Israel
Will neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord is your keeper;
The Lord is you shade at your right hand.
The sun shall not strike you by day,
Nor the moon by night.
The Lord will keep you from all evil;
God will keep your life.
The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in
from this time on and forevermore.
Peace, Courage, Strength. I love you, Brad
I lift my eyes to the hills-
From where does my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth.
God will not let your foot be moved;
God who keeps you will not slumber.
God who keeps Israel
Will neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord is your keeper;
The Lord is you shade at your right hand.
The sun shall not strike you by day,
Nor the moon by night.
The Lord will keep you from all evil;
God will keep your life.
The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in
from this time on and forevermore.
Peace, Courage, Strength. I love you, Brad
Saturday, May 31, 2008
1600 Miles, 12000 ft Elevation, 1 Diamond Ring
Well, friends, vacation '08 has come and gone, and I think you could call it a success.
The Drive:
Normally, I wouldn't include the details of the mind-numbing, not to mention butt-numbing, drive across the vast wasteland of Kansas. Lindsey and I set off from KC to Limon, CO after church on Sunday and, on the way, experienced the most exciting thing Kansas has to offer-tornados. You know that storm that destroyed towns in Iowa last week? Well, we drove through it. Even pulled off the road and parked under a bridge, because that's what all the cars with KS plates were doing. Under the bridge, we were aided by a nice and nervous young KS man who really took us under his wing, updating us about the status of the tornado, scaring the heck out of us with his nervous energy, telling Lindsey to "put the notebook down 'cause hell on earth is coming our way", and then relaying that his Mom said if we were driving west we'd be ok. We did, and we were
Day One:
Thanks to Mom and Dad for the recommendation of Grand Lake, CO for our pre-National Park day. Ignoring that suggestion, we instead decided upon Winter Park, which, as it turns out, is pretty much dead when the ski resort closes. The locals call this time of year "mud season", which is aptly named, but to us it was "cheap and private season." We had the Vintage Hotel, the resort hotel of Winter Park, absolutely all to ourselves. Nobody even at the desk. Highlights: Hernando's Pizza with over 20,000 dollar bills with messages written on them taped to the walls and tables and great pizza. Then, drinks and cigars in the outdoor hot tub as the cold rain sprinkled our heads. Oh, and a very informative sign on our hike that explained, complete with bronzed representations, the difference between moose, elk and deer scat (poop).
Day Two:
Into the wild. Instead of going around, we went to our campsite at Moraine Park campground in Rocky Mountain National Park, by taking the highway through the park and over the pass. It was a wonderful drive, complete with an up close, safe-in-car, sighting of a young bull moose and plenty of elk. We wound our way through the park, up to the continental divide and back down. We were driving through clouds for a while and then we broke through and could see most of the CO part of the range from the top. This is when we started to realize that in May, there's still A LOT of snow on the ground in the mountains. We got to our campsite, set up Andy's "no-trick-to-it" tent, finding out that the only trick was that it takes four adults to set up the thing easily. We had a perfect site, across from bathrooms but behind rocks as to hide us from other campers and back up against a valley that was full of elk. Elk 20-30 feet away. Well, that night was cold, a little wet, and cloudy. But we had a fire, the best one I've ever built by the way, cooked s'mores, played guitar, went to bed covered head to toe in sweatshirts, pants, socks, stocking hats and gloves. I have to say that through all of this, Lindsey was awesome. I love camping, and even I was pretty miserable. It was too cold. But she was a trooper.
Day Three:
I woke up on the ground. I went to sleep on an air matress. Aparently, 225lbs is the limit for this thing. To start our first full day in the park, we went to Estes Park for breakfast, shared an awesome omlet, brushed our teeth and washed our faces with a group of Korean vacationers in the McD's bathroom. Then we went to Bear Lake trailhead, where we spent most of the day. I can't really explain hiking across mounds of snow, but where it wasn't snow-covered the path was muddy from melt. But it was a beautiful morning, Bear Lake was gorgeous. We hiked to Alberta Falls, Nymph Lake and Dream Lake. This part of the park really could be the most beautiful place on earth. Dream Lake has a tree on the bank that is bent in such a way that it is the perfect chair and we spent a lot of time there. For those of you who know, we couldn't go to Emerald Lake because the entire trail was covered in snow and we couldn't even find it. As we got back to our camp, we made the difficult decision to not camp another night. FYI, Lindsey didn't wuss out, it was my suggestion. Rain was coming, I didn't want to wake up feeling fat on the deflated air matress again, and it was just too cold. So, we went back to Estes and got a little cabin. That night we enjoyed White Russians (THE DUDE ABIDES) and silver casserole, a dish introduced to me by my father of hamburger patties with carrots, potatoes and onions all wrapped up in foil (silver) and thrown on the fire. It was a wonderful night and we definately made the right choice.
Day Four:
And now, the moment you've all been waiting for. We decided to hike to Bierstadt Lake in the morning, partly because it's called Beer Place and partly because I'd been there before and knew how beautiful it was. The hike was 1.2 miles, not a bad haul, but in those 1.2 miles we climbed 650 feet in elevation. Exhausted, we reached the top and took the wrong fork in the trial "around the lake". We figured that it would be around the banks of the lake, but it wasn't. Finally, we found the trail to the waters edge, broke through the trees and were standing 25 yards from a cow moose standing in the lake and walking toward us. We were awed and amazed by the closeness and size of her and then we saw her two kids following her in the lake and our amazment went to fear. A mother moose is one of the most dangerous animals on earth. I have to admit, I probably scared Lindsey more than the moose did, but I wanted to get out of there. So, with the moose moving in toward blocking the trail, we went off-trail keeping the lake to our left and pounded slowly through the forest getting away from the moose who had sensed our presence by then. It was stupid, we could've gotten lost, or hurt but it was better than encountering an angry mother moose. Eventually we found the trial again, and started back. Passing a few other hikers, and one family asking mysteriously "did you see two boys up ahead?" which we did not and one family from Nebraska that knew someone that Lindsey knows. On the way back down the switchbacks, as I looked across the valley to our left and up at four peaks to our right, an idea started to blossom in my head. About three/fifths up the mountain side, we stopped for a break, I saw a bottle dangerously off the trail down the slope and, of course, went to retrieve it. Pictures of my friend Justin sliding down the mountainside in Steamboat Springs came to my head, but only briefly. (He was fine, btw). I got the bottle and came back up with a smile on my face that Lindsey had never seen before. She said she almost cried at that moment, thinking that I just loved CO so much and was so proud of myself for getting the bottle. I put the bottle into the backpack, and brought back out a little red box with a diamond ring inside. And so, on the side of a mountain, with the valley to our left and the magestic Rocky peaks to our right, I got down on my knee and asked Lindsey to marry me. She giggled. And giggled. And teared up. And giggled. And said YES! At high noon, mountain time, Thursday the 29th of May, 2008, in one of the most beautiful places on earth, I asked the most beautiful girl on earth to be my wife and became the happiest guy on earth.
Day Five:
The rest of the trip really doesn't matter. We spent some time in Estes Park, then drove to Boulder, one of the coolest cities ever. We stayed at Boulder's waste-free hotel that produces, clearly, no waste and minimal carbon emissions. Our first meal as an engaged couple was at Walnut Brewery, steak and unbelievable asiogo cheese dip and a beer that was the perfect middle ground between Newcastle and Guniess, so yeah, I was in heaven. Spent the next morning on Pearl St. in Boulder, a world famous prominade and outdoor shopping/dining area. Then we decided to make the drive all the way from Boulder to KC. I highly recommend getting engaged a day before having to spend 9.5 hours in a car, 'cause we have a pretty freakin' awesome wedding planned already!
Well, there you have it. Bradley James Bryan and Lindsey are engaged! Pictures of the trip will be on Snapfish and Facebook if you have the time.
Next up, Mustoe's big day-June 21st!
Peace, Happiness, Colorado. B
The Drive:
Normally, I wouldn't include the details of the mind-numbing, not to mention butt-numbing, drive across the vast wasteland of Kansas. Lindsey and I set off from KC to Limon, CO after church on Sunday and, on the way, experienced the most exciting thing Kansas has to offer-tornados. You know that storm that destroyed towns in Iowa last week? Well, we drove through it. Even pulled off the road and parked under a bridge, because that's what all the cars with KS plates were doing. Under the bridge, we were aided by a nice and nervous young KS man who really took us under his wing, updating us about the status of the tornado, scaring the heck out of us with his nervous energy, telling Lindsey to "put the notebook down 'cause hell on earth is coming our way", and then relaying that his Mom said if we were driving west we'd be ok. We did, and we were
Day One:
Thanks to Mom and Dad for the recommendation of Grand Lake, CO for our pre-National Park day. Ignoring that suggestion, we instead decided upon Winter Park, which, as it turns out, is pretty much dead when the ski resort closes. The locals call this time of year "mud season", which is aptly named, but to us it was "cheap and private season." We had the Vintage Hotel, the resort hotel of Winter Park, absolutely all to ourselves. Nobody even at the desk. Highlights: Hernando's Pizza with over 20,000 dollar bills with messages written on them taped to the walls and tables and great pizza. Then, drinks and cigars in the outdoor hot tub as the cold rain sprinkled our heads. Oh, and a very informative sign on our hike that explained, complete with bronzed representations, the difference between moose, elk and deer scat (poop).
Day Two:
Into the wild. Instead of going around, we went to our campsite at Moraine Park campground in Rocky Mountain National Park, by taking the highway through the park and over the pass. It was a wonderful drive, complete with an up close, safe-in-car, sighting of a young bull moose and plenty of elk. We wound our way through the park, up to the continental divide and back down. We were driving through clouds for a while and then we broke through and could see most of the CO part of the range from the top. This is when we started to realize that in May, there's still A LOT of snow on the ground in the mountains. We got to our campsite, set up Andy's "no-trick-to-it" tent, finding out that the only trick was that it takes four adults to set up the thing easily. We had a perfect site, across from bathrooms but behind rocks as to hide us from other campers and back up against a valley that was full of elk. Elk 20-30 feet away. Well, that night was cold, a little wet, and cloudy. But we had a fire, the best one I've ever built by the way, cooked s'mores, played guitar, went to bed covered head to toe in sweatshirts, pants, socks, stocking hats and gloves. I have to say that through all of this, Lindsey was awesome. I love camping, and even I was pretty miserable. It was too cold. But she was a trooper.
Day Three:
I woke up on the ground. I went to sleep on an air matress. Aparently, 225lbs is the limit for this thing. To start our first full day in the park, we went to Estes Park for breakfast, shared an awesome omlet, brushed our teeth and washed our faces with a group of Korean vacationers in the McD's bathroom. Then we went to Bear Lake trailhead, where we spent most of the day. I can't really explain hiking across mounds of snow, but where it wasn't snow-covered the path was muddy from melt. But it was a beautiful morning, Bear Lake was gorgeous. We hiked to Alberta Falls, Nymph Lake and Dream Lake. This part of the park really could be the most beautiful place on earth. Dream Lake has a tree on the bank that is bent in such a way that it is the perfect chair and we spent a lot of time there. For those of you who know, we couldn't go to Emerald Lake because the entire trail was covered in snow and we couldn't even find it. As we got back to our camp, we made the difficult decision to not camp another night. FYI, Lindsey didn't wuss out, it was my suggestion. Rain was coming, I didn't want to wake up feeling fat on the deflated air matress again, and it was just too cold. So, we went back to Estes and got a little cabin. That night we enjoyed White Russians (THE DUDE ABIDES) and silver casserole, a dish introduced to me by my father of hamburger patties with carrots, potatoes and onions all wrapped up in foil (silver) and thrown on the fire. It was a wonderful night and we definately made the right choice.
Day Four:
And now, the moment you've all been waiting for. We decided to hike to Bierstadt Lake in the morning, partly because it's called Beer Place and partly because I'd been there before and knew how beautiful it was. The hike was 1.2 miles, not a bad haul, but in those 1.2 miles we climbed 650 feet in elevation. Exhausted, we reached the top and took the wrong fork in the trial "around the lake". We figured that it would be around the banks of the lake, but it wasn't. Finally, we found the trail to the waters edge, broke through the trees and were standing 25 yards from a cow moose standing in the lake and walking toward us. We were awed and amazed by the closeness and size of her and then we saw her two kids following her in the lake and our amazment went to fear. A mother moose is one of the most dangerous animals on earth. I have to admit, I probably scared Lindsey more than the moose did, but I wanted to get out of there. So, with the moose moving in toward blocking the trail, we went off-trail keeping the lake to our left and pounded slowly through the forest getting away from the moose who had sensed our presence by then. It was stupid, we could've gotten lost, or hurt but it was better than encountering an angry mother moose. Eventually we found the trial again, and started back. Passing a few other hikers, and one family asking mysteriously "did you see two boys up ahead?" which we did not and one family from Nebraska that knew someone that Lindsey knows. On the way back down the switchbacks, as I looked across the valley to our left and up at four peaks to our right, an idea started to blossom in my head. About three/fifths up the mountain side, we stopped for a break, I saw a bottle dangerously off the trail down the slope and, of course, went to retrieve it. Pictures of my friend Justin sliding down the mountainside in Steamboat Springs came to my head, but only briefly. (He was fine, btw). I got the bottle and came back up with a smile on my face that Lindsey had never seen before. She said she almost cried at that moment, thinking that I just loved CO so much and was so proud of myself for getting the bottle. I put the bottle into the backpack, and brought back out a little red box with a diamond ring inside. And so, on the side of a mountain, with the valley to our left and the magestic Rocky peaks to our right, I got down on my knee and asked Lindsey to marry me. She giggled. And giggled. And teared up. And giggled. And said YES! At high noon, mountain time, Thursday the 29th of May, 2008, in one of the most beautiful places on earth, I asked the most beautiful girl on earth to be my wife and became the happiest guy on earth.
Day Five:
The rest of the trip really doesn't matter. We spent some time in Estes Park, then drove to Boulder, one of the coolest cities ever. We stayed at Boulder's waste-free hotel that produces, clearly, no waste and minimal carbon emissions. Our first meal as an engaged couple was at Walnut Brewery, steak and unbelievable asiogo cheese dip and a beer that was the perfect middle ground between Newcastle and Guniess, so yeah, I was in heaven. Spent the next morning on Pearl St. in Boulder, a world famous prominade and outdoor shopping/dining area. Then we decided to make the drive all the way from Boulder to KC. I highly recommend getting engaged a day before having to spend 9.5 hours in a car, 'cause we have a pretty freakin' awesome wedding planned already!
Well, there you have it. Bradley James Bryan and Lindsey are engaged! Pictures of the trip will be on Snapfish and Facebook if you have the time.
Next up, Mustoe's big day-June 21st!
Peace, Happiness, Colorado. B
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