Book Review: Churched

Recently I read Churched:  One Kid's Journey Toward God Despite a Holy Mess by Matthew Paul Turner.  My expectations and what I found in the work were vastly different.  Once I changed my mind set and began looking at the book for what it is, I found myself coming to enjoy this humorous work.

When I first read the title and the brief descriptions of Churched, I was quite interested in the book.  As a children's ministry leader, I am always on the lookout for works that provide some insight into children's perceptions of truth and spiritual truths that arise from them.  As I began reading Turner's memoir, I encountered a towel-wrapped man relaxing in the sauna of a Nashville gym.  In this condition, Turner describes his uncomfortable conversation with another towel-clad gentlemen sporting a "tattoo of Jesus breathing fire out of his mouth."  (Turner, p. 1)  How's that for an attention grabbing opening scene? 

The opening conversation serves as an introduction to Turner's reminiscence of his spiritual journey as a child growing up in a Fundamental Baptist church.  I found myself coming face to face with situations that led me to question exactly what the book's purpose was.  Most memorable for its humor and its shock value was the description of the pastor's piano-playing wife, Mrs. Laura Nolan.  Turner states, "I only knew her [Mrs. Nolan] as the woman in our church who made walking in high heels a reason for even the holiest of Baptists to stop reading their Bibles and stare.  My first thought upon seeing her hips shift gracefully back and forth as she moved from her chair to the piano bench was that she looked exactly like Farrah Fawcett."  (Turner, p. 34-35)  By this point in the book, I decided it was COMPLETELY necessary to remove any thought that this was going to be helpful in children's ministry, and simply read the book for what it was -- a personal memoir.

And that became the key to my enjoyment of this book!  Churched is filled with charming, humorous and heart-felt anecdotes that will resonate with many readers as Turner explores issues of sin, death, personal evangelism, and boring sermons.  Hidden among the funny and occasionally shocking comments -- the kind that make you ask yourself if he really just SAID that -- are some gems of spiritual truth that encourage and challenge. 

I think Turner himself gives the best advice to his readers on how to approach his book in the memoir's final chapter, "Benediction."  In an introductory conversation with Pete, the man who will become his current pastor, Turner describes himself as the author of "Christianish" books.  Churched is not intended to be a work that will spark great theological debate or provide new insights into Scripture.  Rather, it is the fun-filled and honest memoir of a man who has learned to laugh at his past and recognize that in spite of it all -- and because of God's grace -- he knows his Heavenly Father in an intimate, personal relationship.

Happy reading!
Kennith

I received this book for free from WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group for this review.

Update....

It has been far too long since my last post, so I simply had to sit down and write something.  Rather than trying to find something profound to say, I thought I would take the opportunity to update you on what's going on in my life....especially since it has been a while since I have had a chance to update many of you personally.  So, here goes a brief (I hope) overview of what's going on in my world at the moment.

1.  Another Semester at MSCC.  The spring semester has been plagued with snow days, so all classes are lagging behind schedule slightly.  Add to that the fact that it feels as though there is a mass exodus of the faculty, so I have picked up an additional class (college survival).  That means I'm teaching daily and serving as a tutor 10 hours each week.  It's enough to keep a guy very busy, but I am not complaining.....I really do enjoy working with students and watching them succeed.

2.  The Secret Garden at Germantown High School.  This gig sort of fell into my lap earlier this year....and I'm really thankful.  The students are extremely talented and the music director and choreographer are super easy to work with.  I am playing the weekend shift (Friday - Monday) due to conflicts with classes and church in the middle of the week.  The music is more demanding than I originally anticipated, but I'm finding my way back into the groove that is musical theater.  I still find it hard to believe how long it has been since I've played a legitimate show with a solid company.  Broken turntables and wasted rehearsal time aside, it's a great experience so far.  The show is slated to open in late February.

3. The Piano Studio.  After much debate, I continued teaching piano privately and have picked up a few additional students in addition to keeping all of my previous students.  The debate was never over whether or not I enjoyed teaching, but if I was willing to continue dealing with the physical environment.  The price of the space is perfect (free), but most of the time the place is slightly better than a pig stye and there's not much I am authorized to do to improve the situation.  I thought about moving the lessons into my home, but the physical layout of the house and the distance my students would have to travel were not going to be conducive to that option.  I am currently discussing some other options with a fellow artist in the area for the future;  I'm hoping that by the summer situations will be much different.

I am also working on a couple of recitals that will be performed later this spring.  I am most excited about the opportunity to work with my good friend, Joe McClellan.  The repertoire is quite fun and we have similar interpretations of the music.  After a string of stressful and unfulfilling collaborations this time last year, it is refreshing to work with people who are respectful and considerate in all matters.
 
4.  The Church Job.  Last night, we began a new semester of Awana.  21 kids and 10 staff members showed up for the start.....and I was thrilled with the results.  Even though I didn't have everyone that I had hoped for present, the night went well -- with nothing falling through the cracks -- and the kids had a blast.  This semester, we are producing a series of mini-musicals with the kids each month that will be presented in the sanctuary on Sunday morning.  This adds a little more work to my plate during the week, but the students seem to be responding positively.....so I think it will be worth it. 

There has been some stress recently related to my sister's ex-husband (a totally inconsiderate jerk, to be quite honest) and his attendance on Sunday mornings.  I refuse to go into this here, but it has led to some other complications in my world.

5.  Dentistry.  Whenever I become terribly stressed, my TMJ begins to flair up.  Normally it is something that goes away after a few days of medication and wearing my retainers.  Not this time, though.  Throw in the fact that I am PETRIFIED at the thought of visiting the dentist, and you begin to see the issue at hand. 

Thankfully, I have found a great dental practice in Germantown that specializes in reluctant patients.  After 2 sessions (I know, I know)....we finally discovered the root of the problem and pain I have been experiencing:  an old mercury filling has separated from the tooth and a bit of decay has developed.  The pain is under control and next Thursday the dentist will remove the old filling and replace it with a newer treatment.  The repair work plus the fees for cleaning and a new retainer (for upper and lower plates) is going to run me a bit in the hole financially, but I am willing to deal with the additional expenses just to be in a situation that is not so emotionally traumatic for me.

Other than that, I eat (most evenings anyway), do a lot of driving, and sleep.  I anticipate some things slowing down a bit in a few weeks and finding time to return to a regular schedule of blogging and reading.  Definitely stay tuned for more adventures in my life, though.....it promises to be an exciting ride!

The Joy of Snow

Once again, there is snow on the ground.  This is the 2nd time in two weeks.  Classes were cancelled this evening at MSCC and we are awaiting a decision regarding tomorrow's sessions.  It appears that there are 2-3 inches on the ground here, but in many ways this week's snow is much more picturesque than the heavy accumulation of last week.  I fought the cold this afternoon for a few minutes and BRIEFLY took some snapshots from my front porch of neighboring homes.

What can I say?  Even though I despise cold temperatures, I simply love the look of winter snow.  I adore how what is dead and somewhat hopeless in nature is given a freshness by the purity of the snow.  I'm not going to get philosophical tonight about things.  I just want to enjoy the beauty that God blessed me with tonight....while I attempt to stay warm and toasty!

A Dream Yet to Be Realized

I have tried to sit down and write this post for a couple of days, but there are so many thoughts running through my head that I can't seem to wrap my mind around things.  I have finally determined that I simply have to get things on the screen and just see where things lead.

As part of my personal observance of yesterday's Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday, I took the time to do some reading, meditating, and discussion with my parents.  Living in the greater Memphis area for most of my life, I have been keenly aware of the history of the Civil Rights movement -- or so I thought.  Yesterday I sat down to read Dr. King's famous "I Have a Dream Speech" as well as the letter from a Birmingham jail.  I am in the process of reading Melba Pattillo Beals' memoir of the integration of Central High School in Little Rock and have viewed a moving documentary on the music of the Civil Rights movement in America.  In light of all of this, I have one lingering question:  "How did we -- as a self-proclaimed Enlightened Christian nation -- ever allow such intolerance and discrimination to occur?"

The journey for me began when reading Beals' accounts of the horror of the American south in the 1950s.  I have read many historical accounts of the events at Central High School and its implications upon the movement, but I never have been so aware that those reports were slanted from a Caucasian perspective.  As I meditated on the events, I recalled hearing stories of my parents and older siblings living in Marianna, Arkansas in the midst of racial tensions in the late 1960s and early 1970s.  As I began to question my parents about their memories of this era, a few things became clear.

My parents have lived in Arkansas all of their life.  They both come from agricultural homes that were morally upstanding.  Both of their families employed African-American laborers in their fields as was the custom of the time.  As I listened to their stories, I was relieved to learn that what I suspected was true -- neither family was abusive to the African-Americans they employed.  The workers would receive food from the family table after working in the fields, but it was delivered to them at a separate location.  To have invited these men and women of color into their homes would have possibly endangered my family in an intolerant society.

When the discussion moved into the events of Little Rock in 1957, I was surprised to learn that neither parent really knew very much about the situation.  They remembered that there was some trouble, but didn't really remember much about the situation.  You can imagine my shock when I was asked why integration was so important.  "If the blacks had their own schools being taught by their own people, why were things so bad?"  I had to squelch my surprise a bit to explain that the segregation also reached into the upper echelons of higher education;  in other words, future teachers of color were not receiving the same quality education as their white counterparts.  The African-Americans understood that the claim of "separate but equal" was a total fallacy.  It appears that many in the white community did not.

The South has always been known for its unwavering commitment to the truths of Scripture.  I cannot imagine how Christian men and women witnessing (and participating in) the discrimination aligned such actions with the words of the apostle Peter:  "I now realize how true it is that God does not show favoritism but accepts men from every nation who fear Him and do what is right." (Acts 10:34-35, NIV)  I suppose the explanation is best expressed in Dr. King's words.  In his letter from a Birmingham jail, King states that "Lamentably, it is a historical fact that privileged groups seldom give up their privileges voluntarily.  Individuals may see the moral light and voluntarily give up their unjust posture; but, as Reinhold Niebuhr [an American theologian] has remind us, groups tend to be more immoral than individuals."  King's words point out for us that individuals will very often put aside their personal moral codes in the face of a differing view of the general public. 

Martin Luther King, Jr's dream was that all men would have equal opportunities and protection under the law.  While his dream has been achieved in the letter of the law, our society still has a long way to go in the spirit of the dream.  During the past two days, I have heard comments that included questioning why God would bother to ever create a non-white race of people. I have heard racial epithets used in a derogatory manner and have witnessed condescension and hostility toward the celebration of Dr. King's birthday, simply because he was of African-American descent. 

As a nation, we still have a long way to go in regards to race relations.  The philosophy in the south is that the lingering racism is an imperfection carried over from a previous generation that will disappear once they ultimately die out.  I hold that nothing is further from the truth.  The same precepts that propelled the injustice of segregation continue to be passed on to a new generation of Southerners.  Until the region begins to address what it is that unites us all as people created by God rather than the differences and prejudices that separate us on both sides, we will never begin to witness the annihilation of the monster lurking below the surface of the South that seeks to destroy us physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

Revisiting a Childhood Favorite

In just a few weeks, I will begin rehearsing with the cast of Germantown High School's production of The Secret Garden.  I have mixed emotions about the musical for various reasons.  I have read the book that the show is based upon and have always loved it.  However, I always thought that it was a bit dark and could not imagine how effective it would be as a musical.  Additionally, only a few songs of the score ever grabbed my attention -- specifically "Lily's Eyes" and "How Could I Ever Know."

This will be the first musical I will be involved with since my undergraduate work in which I will simply be a rehearsal pianist.  Since that time, I have always had a leadership role and have normally served as the musical director.  This will be an interesting experience to play a show without having the responsibility of shaping the musical direction of the show.  Honestly, I'm looking forward to getting back to my roots at the keyboard without carrying such a heavy burden.

I picked up the score yesterday and have begun the process of learning the music before going to the rehearsals in two weeks.  The students are already learning the vocals and the choreography.  When I come in, I will be playing as they begin to put the disparate parts of the show together.  Since the only thing I know at this point is that we are working on Act I on the first night, I just have to learn all the notes of the show.  I must admit that I was rather surprised today as I realized how many of the pieces are rather difficult reductions for the piano.  I knew there would be a few passages here and there, but this show is simply tough to play!  I will have my hands full for the next few weeks, but I am looking forward to the challenge and the experience....and who can complain about the extra money and the prospect of future gigs with the high school.  Lots of fun days are ahead at the piano as I prepare for my first night with The Secret Garden.

Book Review: Called Out of Darkness

While visiting Branson last week, I found myself in need of a new book and I wanted to depart from the standard fictional fare.  At the bookstore, I stumbled on Anne Rice's Called Out of Darkness:  A Spiritual Confession and decided to see what Rice had to say about her conversion from atheism and her career in the aftermath.  Despite my initial expectations, I found myself challenged and encouraged by the memoir.

In case you have been living under a rock, Anne Rice has authored numerous novels that deal with occult topics;  her most famous novel is Interview with the Vampire.  In the memoir, Rice tells of her childhood in New Orleans and her early years as a devout Catholic.  Despite her childhood faith, during her college years she begins to take issue with certain Church stances and determines that there is no God.  Like other works that I had attempted to read by Rice, I found the text belabored and sometimes difficult to follow.  Since I was intrigued with where things were going, I pressed on.

In 1998, Rice finds that she has been searching for answers and peace that can only be found in a relationship with Jesus.  Her words describing her return to the faith of her childhood resonated with me.

In the moment of surrender, I let go of all the theological or social questions which had kept me from Him [Christ] for countless years.  I simply let them go.  There was the sense, profound and wordless, that if He knew everything I did not have to know everything, and that, in seeking to know everything, I'd been, all of my life, missing the entire point.  (Rice, 183)

A highly intelligent woman, Rice had spent much of her adult life studying history and social theories.  As one who was constantly aware of the plight of the poor, underprivileged, and misrepresented, her final realization of the justice of God was powerfully written.

I didn't have to know how He was going to save the unlettered and the unbaptized, or how He would redeem the conscientious heathen who had never spoken His name.  I didn't have to know how my gay friends would find their way to Redemption; or how my hardworking secular humanist friends could or would receive the power of His Saving Grace.  I didn't have to know why good people suffered agony or died in pain.  He knew.

And it was His knowing that overwhelmed me, His knowing that became completely real to me, His knowing that became the warp and woof of the Universe which He had made. (Rice, 185-186)

Now THAT is what I call someone truly placing total faith in God.  For an intellectual person to admit that I don't have to figure out how things are going to take place since the Creator and Lord of the Universe has placed all of this under His capable control is a miracle in and of itself!  How I long to find myself expressing such confidence in my Heavenly Father's omnipotence in all circumstances and situations.  He is all I need and is faithful to take care of whatever concerns me.

Rice is an avid reader in addition to her career as a novelist.  After her conversion, she began to write a series of historical novels based upon the life of Christ.  Always interested in historical accuracy, Rice returned to the gospels and found a beautiful story that she had not fully explored before.

. . .The Gospels, once I plunged into them and let them really talk to me, came across as distinct and fascinating original works. . .

Also something else has happened to me in the study of these documents.  I find them inexhaustible in a rather mysterious way.

I'm at a loss to explain the manner in which every new examination of the text produces some fresh insight, some new cascade of connections, some astonishing link to another part of the canon, or to the Old Testament backdrop which enfolds the whole.

The interplay of simplicity and complexity seems at times to be beyond human control.

Picking up the Gospel on any given morning is picking up a brand-new book.

There is something so explosive about this body of work that it not only dwarfs the fragile assumptions of the skeptics, it dissolves them into nothingness.

And at times I have the feeling that I will die, with my face down in one of these books, on the verge of some new and momentous question or insight.  In sum, there's no visible bottom to this well of meaning.  It's unlike my experience with any other written text. (Rice, 221-222)

This was especially encouraging to me as I continue to launch into my own re-entry into the Word of God.  I have read daily for most of my life, but I have never allowed myself to simply be swept up into the story.  I am so thankful that I am seeing the Scripture this year with new eyes of faith, guided by the Holy Spirit's leadership and direction.

As Ms. Rice reflected upon her departure from the Catholic Church, she came to the conclusion that it was not issues or lack of faith that caused her to flee.  What could have kept her connected to the church, and ultimately aid her in her walk with Jesus, was love.

The more I study this, the more I listen to people around me talk about their experience with Jesus Christ and with religion, the more I realize as well that what drives people away from Christ is the Christian who does not know how to love.  A string of cruel words from a Christian can destroy another Christian.

Over and over again people write to me to explain why they left a church in bitterness and hurt, because of the mercilessness of Christians who made them feel unwelcome, or even told them to go away.

I'm convinced that it takes immense courage to remain in a church where one is surrounded by hostile voices; and yet we must remain in our churches and we must answer hostility with meekness, with gentleness, or simply not answer it at all!  (Rice, 227)

Few things can be more destructive than the spoken word.  After reading this passage, I was struck by the number of times I have witnessed this villany among Christians in the congregations I have attended during my life.  My prayer in regards to this is simple:  "Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in Thy sight, O Lord, my Strength, and my Redeemer."  (Psalm 19:14, KJV)

Written from a Catholic point of view, Called Out of Darkness explores the mystery and ceremony of the Church in an inviting and interesting way for those not familiar with the tradition.  More importantly, Rice has written a beautiful chronicle of her personal journey from faith to doubt and the transformative return to the God of her childhood.

Come In From the Cold

I have lived in the South all my life with the exception of 7 1/2 glorious years in southern California.  I am used to winter in the Memphis area.  Things are considered cold when the temperature dips into the low 40's and we might see a dusting of snow annually.  My friends around the country laugh when I tell them that we shut down the entire world when there is 1 inch of snow on the ground!

Imagine my surprise when I encountered this outside my front door:

The photos were taken later in the morning since I had nothing on the agenda for today, but local reports state that my little burg received 4-5 inches of snow last night.  Those further south (around Oxford, Mississippi) are dealing with 10 inches!  It's beautiful and thankfully there is not a layer of ice hidden underneath.

Since the temperature struggled to rise above freezing today, I determined to sit in the house most of the day and have a fitting snow day!  That consisted of some practicing for an upcoming recital, lots of reading, and catching up on some television.  My single adventure of the day was stepping outside to take these photos before driving to Mom's office to bring her home for lunch.

Sadly, the snow didn't come while I was in school.  I don't report for classes until next Tuesday, so the white stuff didn't mean an extra day of vacation for me.....BOO HOO!  That just means I need to start doing the snow dance again in a few days to see if we can get another round of this later in the season.