Somebody on Facebook pointed this out to me. I love it:
I especially like the interpretation of “forever and ever” about 2:05 in.
Somebody on Facebook pointed this out to me. I love it:
I especially like the interpretation of “forever and ever” about 2:05 in.
The other day, I watched this video on YouTube. It’s amazing. I can’t imagine how much effort went into filming it. The song itself is fine, but, frankly, I heard it enough a couple of decades ago to last me. I’m not sure what it has to do with Grand Rapids, but, whatever. (According to Wikipedia, when he was asked what the song’s lyrics meant, Don McLean replied, “It means I never have to work again.”)
Anyway, I went to crowd-source my opinion and noticed the ratings. About a million people had seen it by then, and of them almost 15K had “liked” it (the long green bar under the photo). But 320 had “not liked” it (the short red bar). Why?
I know it’s a cliché to ask “what’s not to like?” (#67 on this list) but, well, what’s not to like? With the video, I mean. You might not like Grand Rapids, but why down-rate the video for that? Or maybe you hate the people who shot the video. But do you judge a movie just because you don’t like the director? If so, where do you stop? Suppose you like the cast and the director, but not the key grip or the best boy. Do you rate the movie a dud for that?
Some people just don’t like anything. In the church, we call them E.G.R. or “Extra Grace Required.” It’s a shame they are so damaged and bitter that they need to spread their bile all around them. But I challenge them to read about Barnabas:
For instance, there was Joseph, the one the apostles nicknamed Barnabas (which means “Son of Encouragement”). He was from the tribe of Levi and came from the island of Cyprus.—Acts 4:36
Obviously, the people around them much prefer the Barnabas types to the E.G.R.s. But I suspect the Barnabas types enjoy themselves a lot more than the E.G.R.’s do.
Anyway, a final observation: The ratio of people who liked the video to those who disliked it was about 46:1. So when you bump into someone who seems positively determined to suck the joy out of your life, remember there are probably 46 normal people who aren’t. Try to spend more time with them, and less with the jerks.
I stumbled on this video (unofficial/fan) for the David Meese song “Seventy Times Seven.” I haven’t heard the song in 10 years, but the message is evergreen.
Hearing the song started me thinking: I believe I have a David Meese album. So I checked, and, yes, I do: three, in fact — but I never ripped them into iTunes. Well, that would explain why I don’t ever hear this song any more.
We’re looking for a musical accompanist and a choir director. The accompanist should be able to play the piano, but we would prefer an organist. The choir director must be able to…, well, direct a choir. If you’d like to know more, or to refer someone else to us, call the church at (760) 365-6331.
Several local groups of Christians participated in the Grubstakes Parade in Yucca Valley this weekend.
Joshua Springs Calvary Chapel operates a Christian School. They sent their Pep Band. As it went by my position, they were playing the James Bond theme. Very nice.
The Nazarene church sent their worship team. The music wasn’t anything I recognized, but it wasn’t obnoxious, and the singer was pleasantly enthusiastic. Another winsome entry.
Then came these people:
Why are they? I don’t know who these people were, or if they’re associated with a local church, but they should be ashamed of their witness. If this is how they want to present the Good News to people, they should go read how Paul did it (Acts 17:16-23). Or even Jonah (say, Jonah 3:4,5,10; 4:1-2).
Finally, this.
A guy walked the route passing out tracts. Fine. But look what it says: “Your Parade Guide.” I’m sure that it seemed clever to whoever wrote it — I’ll guide you toward a decision for Christ, which is more important than this parade. But this is worldly cleverness, the kind used to write TV commercials. It’s fundamentally dishonest, because it pulls a bait-and-switch on the reader.
This is the first year that Catalyst has had a west-coast event. I’m glad I went.
That’s the worship (or, Presbyterians would say, the “worship music”). The band is Hillsong United, from Australia.
Today I heard about Susan Boyle, the singing sensation who wowed the judges on Britain’s Got Talent. (Her story is summarized here, and it’s worth reading.)
It’s a touching reminder how much we judge people. All the time, and to our shame.
But God is good, and occasionally lets us see in one person, like Susan Boyle, the potential that is in everyone. And what a joy it is when we do get to see it.
I recently happened to hear the hymn “O God, Thy Being Who Can Sound.” (Here.) It’s a beautiful arrangement, and I wondered that I hadn’t heard the hymn before. I googled for it awhile, but couldn’t find it.
But it kept bugging me, so I posted an inquiry on Facebook, and someone there found it here on ehymnbook.org. (That was a particularly helpful link, since I hadn’t stumbled upon ehymnbook.org before. Now I’ve bookmarked it for future use.)
As for the hymn, now that I have lyrics, I see it is a great example of traditional hymnody:
Eternity thy fountain was,
Which, like thee, no beginning knew;
Thou wast ere time began his race,
Ere glowed with stars the ethereal blue.
This is why so many hymns are inaccessible to so many Christ followers today. The language is both dated (“wast,” “ere,”) and esoteric (“ethereal”). It is also poetic, and, as a result, difficult to follow — especially when you don’t have written lyrics to parse. The syntax in the first line is inverted, and time is personified in the 3rd line. Say what you will about “Shine, Jesus, Shine,” but it doesn’t take much effort to understand what the lyrics are about.
Now, the music for “O God, Thy Being Who Can Sound” was very nice (to my ear; I’m no expert). But you would expect that, with J.S. Bach having improved upon what the Geistliche Lieder gave him. But music comes and goes. How many hit singles did Bach have last year?
And yet, for all its difficulties, it would be a shame if this hymn disappeared. How many songs can you think of which distinguish between time and eternity? That’s pretty deep theology. And it’s just one verse out of six!
Let the record show, by the way, that I like praise music. Well, mostly. I tend to grit my teeth after about four choruses of anything, even my favorites. But if I’m in the zone, I can put up with more. And I’m a whole lot more likely to become en-zoned with praise music than traditional hymnody.