Favorite Albums of 2011

Okay, so now that we've got the best songs of 2011 out of the way, let's look at this year's best albums:

1. Bon Iver - Bon Iver


2. Fleet Foxes - Helplessness Blues


3. Tyler, the Creator - Goblin


4. Adele - 21


5. Coldplay - Mylo Xyloto


6. The Head and the Heart - The Head and the Heart


7. Sara Groves - Invisible Empires


8. David Bazan - Strange Negotiations


9. Heatherlyn - Storydwelling


10. The Civil Wars - Barton Hollow

Favorite Songs of 2011

*UPDATE: Since posting the original list last night, I realized that I forgot about Adele, so this is the updated list.

Okay, so it's time to do some end-of-the-year best-of lists. Tonight I'm going to share my favorite songs from the past year. Here they are:

1. Coldplay - Every Teardrop is a Waterfall.



2. Tyler, the Creator - Yonkers (Explicit lyrics)



3. Jessica Lea Mayfield - Our Hearts are Wrong



4. The Black Keys - Lonely Boy



5. Bon Iver - Towers



6. The Head and the Heart - Lost in my Mind



7. Fleet Foxes - Helplessness Blues



8. Reeve Carney featuring Bono and The Edge - Rise Above 1



9. Over the Rhine - All My Favorite People



10. Adele - Rolling in the Deep

O Come O Come Emmanuel - An Advent/Christmas Mix

(Image found on Wikipedia)

As a special Christmas gift for all my readers, I made a special Advent/Christmas mix on Spotify. They're not all hymns, though. Instead, each song represents the longing of Advent and the hope of Chrsitmas. Here's the track list:

1. "O Come O Come Emmanuel" by Sufjan Stevens
2. "Someday at Christmas" by Stevie Wonder
3. "I Believe in Father Christmas" by Greg Lake
4. "River" by Joni Mitchell
5. "The Little Drummer Boy/Peace on Earth" by David Bowie and Bing Crosby
6. "Happy Xmas (War is Over)" by John Lennon
7. "Do They Know It's Christmas" by the cast of Glee
8. "Sister Winter" by Sufjan Stevens
9. "O Little Town of Bethlehem" by Emmylou Harris
10. "Away in a Manger" by Mindy Smith
11. "Angels From the Realm of Glory" by Annie Lennox
12. "O Holy Night" by Sara Groves
13. "Silent Night" by Mahalia Jackson

Just click here to start listening.

Merry Christmas!

Christmas With My Father (A Repost)

(Image found at Free Clip Art Now.)

This is a piece I wrote about two years ago. Since a lot of my blogging friends are reposting stuff, think I'll put this up again. Enjoy!

When I was five years old I got an unexpected Christmas gift. That morning I woke up at my usually time of 7 a.m. (I was a light sleeper even then) to find an array of toys under the bright Christmas tree in my grandparents' basement. I quickly fell on my knees to look through each and every thing Santa delivered over the night. And then, from the top of the stairs, I heard, "Ho ho ho!"

I knew that voice anywhere. It was my father!

Sure enough, there was Dad in his long leather coat, dark shades, and fedora hat coming down the stairs. The old familiar smell of beer and cigarettes--left over from nights tending punk rock bars--lingered on his shirt. I don't remember what all I got that year, although I'm sure I got a lot of great toys. All I remember is that Dad took the time to spend Christmas morning with me.

Dad was more like a fun uncle that would occasionally visit, rather than an actual father. As a child I would sit by the window and eagerly wait for his next visit. When will he be here? Why is he late? He said he’d be here. Is he going to bail out again? Finally a car would pull into the driveway and there he would be: punk band t-shirt, Converse All Stars, beer and cigarettes on his breath. During his visits, we wrestled in the living room, fished at the park, and played with nearly everything at KB Toys. He introduced me to punk rock, and taught me the comedic genius of poop jokes. Then he would leave again, and I wouldn’t see him again for another six months. Maybe even longer.

For a while Mom never told me why she and Dad divorced. Whenever I asked, she would just say, “It just didn’t work out” and leave it at that.

As I got older, I saw less and less of him. Sometimes I would be years before he would visit again. Around the same time, Mom told me why they divorced: the drugs, the women, and finally one day packing up all his stuff and leaving behind only a note on the dining room table. Ever since the divorce Mom often had to work two jobs so I could have enough to eat, since she never received one child support check from Dad. As I learned all this, the image I had of my dad being some golden idol quickly tarnished; now I only saw a pathetic man who refused to grow up. I didn’t want anything to do with him anymore.

But after a strange series of events--including finding out that I have a younger half-brother--Dad and I got back in touch. And he's really grown up; he now has a seven-year-old daughter who means the world to him. For her, spending Christmas morning with Dad isn't just a once-in-a-lifetime event. It may have taken him a while, but now Dad knows you can be Mr. Punk Rock and still be a parent.

It would have been nice if Dad knew that sooner, but then I wouldn't have had such a memorable Christmas that year.

What's The Big Deal About Gay Inclusion?

(Image found at Queer New York.)

(This post is part of The More Excellent Way's December blog topic.)

Seriously, who cares? I’m not gay, so it doesn’t affect me in any way. Besides, if they want to be that way, then that’s their problem. Give me one good reason why I should care about gay inclusion in the Church?

Well, I have a few reasons:

Tyler Clementi

Seth Walsh

Raymond Chase

No doubt many of you recognize these names from the news. But if you need a refresher, these are just some of the many gay teenagers who have committed suicide.

Yes, I know, suicide is a horrible thing, no matter who it is. But what does this have to do with the Church?

Because if the Church cannot be a refuge for these kids, if our theology says they will never be a part of the Kingdom of God, then something is horribly wrong!

I know that “radical inclusion” gets tossed around way too much by us progressive Christians who are trying to look hip and cool, so I’ll spare you all the bad clichés. But I will say this: if the Church truly is the Body of Christ here on earth, then it’s high time it open up its doors to the LGBTQ community. No, not so we can preach at them and try to get them to “convert” to our proper straight values. Instead, we should recognize and celebrate our queer brothers and sisters in Christ.

Oh, great, another liberal acting like Thomas Jefferson and cutting out pieces of the Bible he doesn’t like.

On the contrary: I’m open and affirming because of Scripture!

Throughout the New Testament we see how several people on the outside of Judaism are now welcomed into the Kingdom of God. There is, for example, the Ethiopian eunuch in Acts chapter 8. Being both a foreigner and a eunuch, he would not be allowed fully participate in temple worship, according to the Law of Moses. In Isaiah 56:1-7, however, we read that God will eventually open the gates to His Kingdom to both foreigners and eunuchs. We’re not told what exactly Philip says to the eunuch, but if the eunuch wanted to be baptized immediately I’m pretty sure Philip told him about Isaiah’s prophecy. (Hat tip: A New Kind of Christianity by Brian McLaren)

Then there’s the Samaritan woman at the well. We’re told that Jews did not associate with Samaritans (John 4:9). Yet Jesus, a Jew, not only carries on a conversation with this woman, but also reveals Himself as the Messiah to her.

So if Jesus can extend His hands towards African eunuchs and Samaritans, you think He can also extend His hands towards the LGBTQ community, too?

Yeah, but what about 1 Corinthians 6:9? Doesn’t look like gays can enter the Kingdom to me.

I don’t have enough time to deconstruct all of the infamous “clobber passages” at this time, but after doing some research I have come to believe that those particular verses have been mistranslated and taken out of their historical context. For more info, click here.

Queer people have been second-class citizens in the Kingdom of God for way too long now. And since there is no class system in the Kingdom, I think it’s time we did something about it.

Let Faith Fill In The Gaps

(Image from Popgadget)

Anyone who knows me knows that when a particular subject interests me, I go out and read every single thing I can about that subject until it becomes an obsession and it is all I ever talk about. Yeah, I’m that nerdy!

Lately the subject that has become my obsession is the history of Christianity. Turns out it’s a lot more complicated than the short history lesson a lot of evangelical churches teach: God wrote the Bible, the Catholics came along and ruined things, Luther and Calvin saved the day, the end. There’s a whole two-thousand year history that’s full of different doctrines, ideas, theologies, and schisms that have shaped the religion throughout the years. In fact, I think Christianity is still evolving right now as I write this.

Unfortunately, some of the things I have read had made me question a lot of my theology.

Long-time readers will know that I have mixed feelings about Marcus Borg. On one hand, his book Reading the Bible Again For the First Time has definitely taught me how to take the Bible seriously without interpreting every story literally. But on the other hand, when he questions the historical accuracy of anything that the Apostle’s Creed confirms, that’s when I get a little anxious.

For example, since this is the Advent season I’ve had the virgin birth on my mind a lot lately. Only two of the gospels mention anything about Jesus’ birth--Matthew and Luke--and none of the New Testament books written prior to Matthew and Luke say anything about Jesus’ birth. Also, both Matthew and Luke have different details about what exactly happened on that first Christmas morning. And then of course, there’s the fact that in the original Hebrew, Isaiah 7:14 could mean either “virgin” or “young girl.” (Hat tip: Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time, chapter 2).

Of course since we can’t go back in time to give Mary a physical examination, there’s no way of knowing for sure whether or not she really was a virgin. But since I’ve always been the over-analytical type, I can’t help but wonder, “If the virgin birth isn’t factual, what about the incarnation? How else could God come to earth as a human?”

I can’t help but think about what Martin Luther King Jr said about science and religion:

“Science investigates; religion interprets. Science gives man knowledge which is power; religion gives man wisdom which is control. Science deals mainly with facts; religion deals mainly with values. The two are not rivals. They are complementary.
Science keeps religion from sinking into the valley of crippling irrationalism and paralyzing obscurantism. Religion prevents science from falling into the marsh of obsolete materialism and moral nihilism.”

And I think the same can be applied to history. We need historical fact in order to distinguish myth from reality. Of course all facts need interpretation, and this where faith comes in. The book of Hebrews tells us that “faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see” (11:1). When there are gaps in the facts, or the facts leave gaps in our previously-held theology, faith fills in those gaps. It does not ignore the facts; it merely says that God is much bigger than all of our questions, all of our doubts, and all of our tiny little theological boxes.

Like I said, we have no way of looking up Mary’s medical records, but maybe we don’t need to. Faith is enough to reassure us that Jesus is still God-with-us.

Insomnia - A Poem

(Picture found at Insomnia Cures Treatment.)

When I first started seriously writing about ten or so years ago, I mainly focused on poetry. About five years later, though, I realized that I wasn't very good at poetry so I stopped. Now I have a sudden urge to try writing poetry again. Here's one I wrote a month ago called "Insomnia." Tell me what you think.


Sleep
is like
money—

I
never have
enough.

Instead of sheep
I count
possible
future disasters,
and the
tape machine
inside
my head
plays
an endless
loop of
yesterday’s
sins.

The bed
becomes
concrete
under my
crooked spine.
I rest
my head
on a rock.

There are no
ten million
fireflies
lighting up the world,
and planet Earth
does not turn
slowly.
It’s only boredom
that makes
the clock
tick
so slow.

I slip
into a
eleventh hour
dream,
wrapped
in covers
like a womb.
I swim
in the sea
of my
unconsciousness,
leaving my
clothes and will
on the shore,
heading towards
the other side.

And then the clock
rings three times.

How Anxiety Works

(Image found at Farewell Anxiety)

A few months ago I wrote about what it's like to have a depression spell. Today I want to talk about what having an anxiety attack feels like.

For me, anxiety is like being in thrown into a lions’ den, like Daniel in the Bible. Even though I’m nervous at first, I quickly tell myself, “I know how this story ends. The lions won’t eat me.” The guards seal the mouth of the den shut, and the lions slowly creep towards me, licking their lips. I wait patiently as the lions get closer. They start smelling and licking me. “Okay, God,” I think, “you can come and save me now.” One of the lions gently nibbles on my arm, the way a cat does, except I can’t tap a lion on the head and say, “Bad kitty!” I slowly back away from the lions, but the move closer. I climb up a rock as they law me, scratching up my legs in the process. I pound on the rock cover the mouth of the den and scream, “For God’s sake, get me out of here! I was wrong about the whole ‘God’s going to save me’ thing, okay? Hello? Is anybody there? Get me out!”

Meanwhile the guards outside the den say to each other, “Did you hear something? No? Okay.”

I'm Sorry (Guest Post by Nicole Cottrell)

Nicole Cottrell is one of my favorite bloggers, and we're doing a special blog swap today. I've written a guest post for her blog, Modern Reject, and she has written one for mine. Hope you enjoy!

Dear God,

I'm sorry...

I'm sorry that I spend more time on my computer than I do talking to you.

I'm sorry that I come to you so often when I am broken, hurting, and lonely, and not before.

I'm sorry that you get my leftovers when what you deserve is my first fruits.

I'm sorry that I still doubt you even though I know you have never let me down.

I'm sorry I don't look more like your Son and instead I look so much like everyone else.

I'm sorry I still sin when I know good and well I have been freed from sin.

But, I thank you...

Thank you Lord that you still listen to me even when I complain and grumble.

Thank you that when I offer you leftovers you offer me grace and compassion.

Thank you that I could never earn your love, because I know I would fail, but instead you give it so freely.

Thank you that even when I doubt You, You never doubt me.

Thank you that your love covers a multitude of sins.

Thank you for finding me, and rescuing me, and being with me always.

Thank you that when I lay my burdens before You, I am reminded that Your burden is easy and your yoke is light.

Thank you that you are a God who allows me to come to you with each piece of broken me, each bit of tarnished girl and that You never shame me or guilt me for the choices I've made.

Thank you for your Son, who I want to be more like, and who you gave to me, for freedom's sake.

Sincerely,
Nicole

What would you apologize for? What fills your heart with gratitude?