Ragamuffin Ramblings

It hit me as I stared at my bottle of Mountain Dew. The number... zero. Technically, it's not really a number because it doesn't represent an actual value. It signifies nothing really. But not the nothing you're thinking of right now. Confused yet? You see, you're imagining nothing as an empty room or a guy with holes in his pockets. But zero is much more than that... or actually much less. An empty room is still a room, and it follows all the laws of science like gravity and all those other ones I've forgotten since high school. The same is true for the pockets. So, those examples can't quite clarify the concept of zero because something with the quantity zero is really nothing at all to begin with.

But despite all my attempts to belittle zero, it continues to hold tremendous power to stymie change. Let me explain. Now, not all of us are math wizards, but most of us (I hope) can perform a few simple operations of arithmetic. Addition for example. If you add zero to the number four, you're left with... four! Big surprise... but it goes to show that zero didn't help the number four change at all. The same goes for subtraction: four minus zero equals four again. But let's get a little more tricky. What about multiplication? Well, if you multiply four by zero, you've lost it all! And dividing four by zero arrives at the same answer. The addition and subtraction of zero accomplished nothing, and multiplication and division actually reduced our initial number. When you put zero into something, nothing changes, and most often, things get worse.

By now, you've either stopped reading or you're on the brink because of my ramblings. Do I even have a point? Yes, I do. Last night, several hundred students from my church's youth group held a worship service to celebrate and remember their fond memories from this year's summer camp. As I absorbed the atmosphere around me, I began to realize that this room I was sitting in was brimming over with joy. Not just happiness... joy. Godly joy. What Scripture calls "the joy of the LORD." These students had been touched by the hands of God, molded into more mature, effective servant leaders, and directed to the center of His will. It's like nothing I've ever witnessed before. I'm probably not even doing it justice because of my poor writing skills, but I could sense that each and every one of these kids had grown in their faith to some degree. As the youth choir sang a multilingual worship song, I felt a void in my heart that I have been ignoring for some time now. I've made my life too busy for joy. I've invested in nourishing my mind instead of my soul. I've blocked out the Creator of the universe from leading me, and it's taken its toll.

When you put zero into something, nothing changes, and most often, things get worse. In God's kingdom, the simplest of faiths can trump the soundest of minds. I've given God nothing for so long, justifying my behavior by convincing myself that I'll get to my faith... later. If you're reading this, maybe you're right here with me, or you've been here before. It's about time we all stopped serving two masters, or serving the wrong one entirely. Looking back, I view this period in my life with genuine heartache. I only wish I could go back and change it all, but that's just not possible. And that's just not what God wants. It's been painful, but God has taught me through my desertion of Him. And I pass this along to you: If we are able to keep our eyes upon Jesus, the "author and perfecter of our faith," we can live our lives in the center of his will with zero regrets.

If you read my previous post about music (or even if you didn't) you should read these posts. Both of them are very thoughtful. Give them a look.

The Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Lame
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/19313280/
Deep and Wide
http://www.andrewosenga.com/blog/2007/07/24/deep-and-wide/#comments

Music can be compelling, unique, or downright awful. Or... can it? What determines if music is essentially "good" or "bad?" (Just a quick note: Those quotation marks are to pacify any disagreeing readers' strong opinions.) If I decide to purposefully play my guitar with only two strings instead of the typical six, or drum on pots and pans instead of drums, is my music still "good?" How about an entire album of kazoo playing?

Often I drive home from work in the evenings to the tune of artists like Andrew Peterson, Caedmon's Call, and Derek Webb. Their albums offer something more substantive than the typical, overrated pop music pervading the airwaves today. "Good" music paints pictures, illustrates truth, and carries with it a significance yet undiscovered by most. I long for the times when I can get stuck at a railroad crossing just as a "good" song begins to play. A sense of fulfillment comes over me when a "good" song finishes just as I pull into the driveway of my house. Can "bad" music do that? I don't think so.

Now, I know what you skeptics are thinking. "Art should be judged subjectively... Who are you to say what music is 'good' or 'bad?'" My response to that argument would be to ask a simple question: How would you determine what music is "good" or "bad?" Most likely, your response would be that every individual makes that determination for themselves... i.e. music that's "good" for me may not be "good" for you. But that means that no music is "good" or "bad"... it's all just out there in musicland somewhere waiting to be categorized by someone's individual opinions. My kazoo playing is musically equal with a Beethoven symphony. But if I decide that mine is better, then it is... for me, at least. This flawed thinking cannot serve to judge music with a critical eye.

I'll end with this. I know that we all like different styles of music, and that's great. But some music is just plain "good" and some is just plain "bad." That doesn't mean we all have to like the same music, but we should all make an effort to recognize "good" music when we see it.

This past week and a half has taken us all by surprise. Isn't it odd that everything seems so right just before everything goes wrong?

My oldest brother was in serious car accident just over a week ago. His car was demolished, but he walked away unscathed. However, the time period in between the accident and my brother's call was excruciating for my family. The notion of injury or even death momentarily took our breath away. Days afterward, a gust of wind snapped the metallic pole for our basketball pole in half, smashing the windshield of our car while my mother was inside. Again, my mother walked away unscathed, but shaken.

As time progressed, the tragic shooting at Virginia Tech came into focus, as a disturbed young man took the lives of thirty-two students and faculty members before killing himself. The whole nation delved into mourning for the victims as prayer vigils and services continue to be held.

And this past weekend, the unexpected death of a three year-old girl has left my church family in utter disbelief.

How could all these things have occurred so rapidly? I cannot even begin to digest one before the next appears. "Wait a second," you might say, "You weren't really affected by any of this as much as other people. What are you whining about?" And you know what? You're right. All I endured was a broken window. My brother lost his car, but nothing happened to me. I didn't know anyone who perished at Virginia Tech, and I grieve for a family's loss that is not my own. Why am I so distraught?

I would venture to say that the answer lies in something tangible yet often overlooked. There is a terrible tragedy in this world, more powerful than we can even imagine. Our beloved world is dying. Physically, emotionally, spiritually... We are a fallen people who have forgotten that our world is not perfect but in a constant state of decay. We are patron saints of lost causes, wandering grief-stricken when tragedy comes our way. The wonderful, empty things of this world blur as tears fill our eyes. Whether it be from broken windows or broken hearts, we've realized how truly lost we are without a savior. And we fall our knees... acknowledging our utmost dependence on the only constant force in the universe: Jesus Christ.

I felt it appropriate to begin my blog with an entry of the ridiculous nature. Last night as I was leaving work, I gazed out across the vast parking lot of the happenin' Pompano Marketplace and observed one the of most ridiculous occasions I have ever experienced. A group of young teenagers, not unlike myself, were enjoying the warm night air of South Florida. Very unlike myself, however, these absurd children were "partying it up" in the middle of the Pompano Marketplace, music (if that's what we want to call it) playing and shadows dancing in the moonlight.

Now, let's get a few things straight. First, last night was a Friday night, indicating that this late night pow-wow was an extremely pathetic attempt to jump start the weekend with a really cool social event. It must also be noted that no place of social significance even exists in the Pompano Marketplace, as it includes such glorious temples of retail such as Steinmart and Staples. Perhaps it was Woodcraft store that attracted them, or maybe the Dollar Tree. Regardless, this was a most entertaining and unusual occurrence in my neck of the woods.

Feeling very overwhelmed by the group's sense of "coolness" I responded by climbing into the Shaggin' Wagon and proceeding to rev its engine uproariously. This was followed by my swift exit out of the parking lot to impress them. Oh... I can just hear their murmurs of amazement now as I reminisce my deft departure. I feel so much better about myself now that I know I am so much cooler than those guys (and have a larger vocabulary).