Earth-Shakin' Stuff
First, I do need to apologize for not updating the blog for a while. Been in kind of a funk, but good friends have helped me see things more clearly/dearly etc. Sing that song to yourself now, and I promise [sic] it'll never happen again. It probably is redundant for me to ever use "[sic]", since you already know I'm going to be sarcastic. I simply feel like my bracket keys are very underused. But now I'm rambling.

OK, on to the most devastating news you may ever hear from me. Last week I discovered something about me, that I myself would not have believed only moments before it happened. This would be a good time to say, "Okey dokey, pards, see ya next time!" and leave you hanging for 8 more weeks when I decide to blog again. That would be wrong. Many of you are too good to me, you need to hear this now.

Here's the disclaimer. What you are about to read could prove so shocking that it could harm our friendships. If you read it that way, know that I am alread begging for your forgiveness, but I will understand if you want to drop me. Prepare youself, this is a doozie.

Monday evening, while I was on the way back from hospital visits in Augusta, I spotted the neon glow of the Krispy Kreme sign. It beckoned me, "Hot doughnuts now." Folks, Jason and the Argonauts had an easier time with temptation--and they're a rock band!! Well, for some strange reason my car turned into Krispy Kreme. I got a cup of coffee and a dozen "hot ones".

While I ate the first one, I caught my self commenting, "I don't see what the big deal is." What the heck was that?? I ate two more to test my earlier hypothesis rendering very similar results. What you are about to read may hurt your feelings, but I do not particularly care for hot Krispy Kreme dougnnuts.

It sounds. . . um . . . it sounds . . . unAmerican! Don't get me wrong, I love Krispy Kreme dougnuts, but a chocolte cream filled or a sour cream or the doughnut of the month sounds more fun to me. Why not hot? I guess it goes back to my first exposure to the treats via school fundraisers. I think I'd prefer that variety to one just picked off the line. I know some of y'all are screaming right now. All I can say is, "It's not you. It's me." Maybe I just got hold of a bad batch. We can try it again some time.

Ahh… Good ‘ol NPR
I woke up this morning learning of Major League Baseball’s awarding of American League Manager of the Year to Joe Maddon. This was not unexpected since he led the Tampa Bay Rays to the World Series.
I was hearing this report on NPR. This always makes me laugh a little. I don’t know if they are trying to prove that they are “with it” at NPR with their slight tips of the cap to the world of sports, but it comes across rather comical . . . “In Major League Baseball last night, the Atlanta Braves won a contest against the Metropolitans of New York, 3 runs to 2.”
This morning’s laugh was not from the Joe Maddon announcement. The voice on the radio also informed me of the new National League Manager of the Year with that public radio flair of one who knew noting about sports: “Lou Piniella (pronounced PEEN-yay-la) of the Chicago Cubs.”
I wonder if they asked Ken Burns how to pronounce it and he’s the one laughing more this morning. I also hope Lou heard it, because I would like to flashback to 1991 and again hear, “Get off me, Lou!” but this time it’s in that monotone, lullaby voice that tries to wake me up each morning.

Two Painting Projects

First, I've gotta lay in a little interior latex around the new door (I want to thank my neighbor James for painting the door and frame). Then I have to go upstairs to the "studio" to do some watercolor work. Of course, I am delaying getting started on both. I haven't had enough coffee yet--yeah, that's a good excuse.

The new door in the parsonage has to do with our adoption process. The old door was great, but buried under a few decades of paint was a layer of lead paint. To remove the lead paint the "legal way" would have been more involved and more expensive than replacing the door. Besides it always looks cooler when you're rolling out of Lowes with the big cart and a helper.

Last Saturday, I started taking a water color--wait, what? You're not interested in that right now? Well, what do you want me to talk about? The A-word in the above paragraph? Ohhh...

Way back in December, Trisha and I decided, after talking about it for years, that we would adopt some children. Yes, that's right, I said "some"! We felt like we are able to take on more than one and catch up with our brothers and sisters in one fell swoop. We contacted the Department of Social Services, and got the ball rolling on adopting children. We have filled out tons of paper work. We have been to classes. Our home has been inspected by DHEC, the fire marshal, and the lead risk assessment inspector (hence the new door). Now our file is complete and we are waiting to hear that we are approved. Then we'll start the process of having children placed in our home.

Why "some"? There are several children in foster care and other situations who are siblings. Many times the processes do not work out in favor of keeping them together as brothers and sisters. We want to help at least one bunch stay together. Did I just say "bunch"? It's getting scary now.

Pray for us. We'll always need that. We are looking forward to being parents. We want to rush the process, but we know it might move at a glacier's pace.

Maybe by the time the children do get here, I'll have a few masterpieces from my watercolor class that I can hang in their rooms. There might even be a mixed media work of off-white interior latex and cat hair. First, I need some more coffee.

Home Cookin?
Poor CC Sabathia. He came "this close" to throwing a no-hitter yesterday against the Pirates. The media outcry this morning is that Pittsburgh's official scorer should have given CC an error in the bottom of the 5th inning. The Brewers' pitcher failed to cleanly field an Andy LaRoche dribbler off of the third base side of the mound. LaRoche was safe and Pirates' official scorer Bob Webb gave him an infield hit.

Here's Webb's explanation of the moment:

"It was a spinning ball," official scorer Bob Webb said immediately after
the conclusion of the game. "It's to the right of a left-handed pitcher. In my
view from the beginning of the play, it's not an ordinary play to make.

"It is difficult both because of the spin and because he has to make the
play and turn completely around, and the runner was well down the line. It would
have been a very difficult play to make. In my view, it was a hit as a result of
those factors."

When the game was over, there was some crying from Brewers payers and their manager that CC got robbed of a no-hitter. There is even talk this morning that Major League Baseball might try to convince Webb to change his ruling.

Change the scoring? This should not happen. If you want to throw a no hitter, it really has a lot to do with every batter, so apparently this was not on CC's mind in the FIFTH INNING! Had it been, perhaps he should have booted the ball into the duggout, though you would never, ever convince me that a Major League player would commit an error on purpose.

But what if Bob Webb is convinced to change what he put down on his score card? What would happen?

First, I imagine Nolan Ryan would have some "lovely" things to say about this. I think I would prefer to see CC have to fight Nolan Ryan to get his no hitter. As proven by Robin Ventura, though, to charge a mound occupied by Nolan Ryan is indeed an error in itself--so Webb would have to change the score and give CC 2 errors.

Maybe the Brewers would have CC throw out the first pitch tonight against the Mets and then have the entire team dogpile him to celebrate the rarity. Well, every player but Ben Sheets, who starts tonight and needs to stay healthy enough to no-hit the Mets--how hard could that be?

I hope the score doesn't change. I have to say something righteous here. The integrity of the game is at stake! Ooohh, yeah, that oughta do it. Of course the present regime, pardon me, commissioner's office is well known for looking after the integrity of the game.

Radiant Cross
Last week at Prayer Meetin', I handed out a copy of a piece of Mexican folk art that was in Christian Century last month. The drawing was based on the radiant cross. I am thankful that in seminary I had a professor who liked to show us lots of pictures. We learned that in a lot of Christian art work depicting the cross that it can be a source of light in the painting. That is, people in the painting are not illuminated by the sun or a lamp. The "light" in the painting would come from the cross or Jesus' body.

In other traditions, the radiant cross is used for a symbol in first communion celebrations. You can even buy a lot of party supplies for your after-church shindigs.
Here's what I gave my folks.

Suggestion: open this in another window.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/27726669@N05/2775965605/

At first glance it does look a little ordinary. If you focus on the cross in the center, though, those concentric circles and the dots have something of a pulse to it. This flat, black and white drawing becomes what I like to call optical theology.

Give it a try. You might want to enlarge and print out this picture for yourself (jury's still out on what staring at a computer screen too long will do to you). See what I mean? This drawing has a lot of movement.

OK, now pray with that. Lend you imagination to the movement a little. The artist probably did not have only one right answer in mind. My general explanation is this: the cross is often seen as a rather flat symbol, you know, death, resurrection, yadda, yadda. In this picture, though, there are a lot of things that are bouncing around with the cross at the center. Remember what was given to give us life--no yadda about it!

Someting else happened to me while I stared at this picture. I got a little too close to it, a theological statement in itself. I ended up unable to focus both eyes to make one target and saw two pictures. I was then staring at two crosses. I had to remember something else important that came right to me. One cross was Jesus' and the other my own.

So long, Skip.

Tonight, the Braves will play their first home game since the death of Skip Caray last week. I am certain there will be a good tribute to him at Turner Field. Here is mine:

The most recent Skip-ism caught me about a little over a month ago. The Braves game was coming on the radio. Skip welcomed the listners to the broadcast with words he'd spoken for a number of years, "Hello again, everybody." I gasped. It finally hit me that Skip used the very same greeting his father employed as he began Chicago Cubs games. It was a subtle tribute every time he was on the air.

Skip very often said "we" when referring to the Braves. He did it win or lose. It makes me a little self-conscious when I catch myself saying "you" in sermons.

Of course, I remember the call in 1995 which concluded the World Series . . .

Skip: There's a drive! Deep left-center! Grissom on the runnnn--yes!

Don Sutton: Yes!

Skip: Yes!

Don: Yes!

Skip: The Atlanta Braves have given you a championship!

Don: Yes!

Being in a line of work where I often struggle to come up with the right things to say, sometimes the best thing to do is let a moment speak for itself.

Titletown, USA
For the past several weeks, ESPN has travelled arond the country to find the community they could crown "Titletown, USA". Thre was, at first, a small problem with that. Green Bay, Wisconson had given themselves that appelation and had even copywrighted the term. I don't know if ESPN ever got permission, but I guess they got at least a blessing--no lawsuits in the sports pages between Green Bay and ESPN.

Well, after weeks of cheesy human/community interest stories on SportsCenter, the honor of being Titletown, USA was bestowed on Valdosta, GA. For a very long time, it has been the high school football capital of the world. If there really is something as a high school national championship, they've won at least 3 or 4 at Valdosta High School. Lowndes County High has won 3 out of the last 4 state championships. Jesse Tuggle played college football at Div II powerhouse Valdosta State. All these facts were mentioned on Sports Center along with J. D. Drew being from the south Georgia town. They failed to mention that pro wrestling superstar Buff Bagwell claims Valdosta was well.

Viewers called in and voted for who should be known as Titletown. Valdosta captured over 29% of the votes. 29%!! Could a small city in south Georgia have stuffed the ballot box? If so, they deserve the title because they have passionate fan support. OR it could actually be that Valdosta has a reputation that would garner votes from across the country. This is possible. In 1991 as a Charleston Southern mission trip group made its way back to campus from New Orleans, we planned our route to include a stretch of US Hwy 84 which took us right through Valdosta. Why? Because even back then we had heard of their reputation as a football powerhouse. 17 years later it's Titletown, USA.

This makes me glad because it reflects more of the culture of our whole country were communities rally around what is happening on Friday nights instead of Saturday afternoon. No offense, Valdosta State, but you have to admit you are probably struggling to be in third place in popularity in your market (depending on when Buff's in town).

I am also glad that Columbus, OH did not win.

Don't Turn Around-uh-uh-oh!

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the next great thing in marriage enrichment . . . introducing tandem synchronized iPod shuffle-ing!

Many evenings Trisha and I will go for a walk. When we go, we usually both will listen to our respective iPods. That is to say that we'll walk together but she'll listen to her music and I'll listen to mine. I had expressed the following idea before, but someone I love declared, "That's impossible!" Two evenings ago, I brought it up again, and this time the notion intrigued the social scientist side of my wife's personality. I unpacked a plan for us to listen to the same songs at the same time while using two separate machines. The alternative was to use only 1 iPod and share the earbuds.

Step One. Compile a playlist. We actually had a playlist draft to pick songs that we each would want to hear . . . "Mr. Commissioner, with the second pick of the fourth round, the man's iPod chooses 'Fergalicious'!"

Step Two. Sync your iPod's. You have to make sure that the playlist is in the order you want. Be careful when you sync the second iPod. Our computer wanted to put the second sync in order by artist's name. Something we discovered the second song into our walk.

Step Three. Set the iPods to play songs in order. "Shuffle" will have you out of sync.

Step Four. Start the iPods simultaneously. We actually had that Lethal Weapon moment the first time we tried it. "You mean 1-2-3 and then shoot or 1-2 then shoot on 3?" The solution was to have one person hit both start buttons. It helps here to listen to one earbud from each iPod.

Step Five. Be sure to lip sync or even sing to each other. It's fun, and, of course, nothing will freak out your neighbors more than seeing the two of you bounding up to them with your white earbuds in and all of a sudden declaring in unison "Alles klar, Herr Kommissar?"

The Future? Since this is a new phenomenon for us, I can't push this too far or too fast lest we crash and burn. I thnk we need to add "The Electric Slide" to the playlist just so one day passers by will see us dancing, to apparently no music, in the post office parking lot.

Pilgrimage
I recently attended a workshop on spiritual formation. One of the practices we were encouraged to undertake was to go on a "pilgrimage" every 7 to 10 years. That is, to take a trip to a sacred place.
As I thought about where that sacred place might be for me, it occurred to me that I might already have been on a pilgrimage--of sorts.
In the summer of 1997 I led a youth group on a mission trip to Chicago. On our day off, we went to Wrigley Field to see the Cubs play the SanFrancisco Giants. There were several "holy moments" when the baseball part of my soul got to catch up with the things I had only seen on televison.
It was a day game, a grand tradition at Wrigley. There really was ivy growing on the outfield walls. Sammy Sosa made his game opening lap of right filed, waving at all the "Bleacher Bums". We had semi-obstructed view seats. The wind was blowing out. JT Snow hit a home run to Right that got thrown back. Sammy Sosa hit a home run for the Cubs (so did Brian McRae). Ryne Sandberg played second base. Mark Grace played first. The Cubs won 6-3 and they raised the "W" banner beside the scoreboard.
The "most spiritual" moment, of course, came just moments after Darryl Hamilton struck out swinging to end the top of the 7th. I grabbed Trisha by the hand and said, "C'mon, let's go!" She didn't understand want was going on. "You need to see this," I explained as I led her down the first base side of the stadium toward right field. Our seats were semi-obstructed related to the view of the field, completely obstructed when it came to seeing the press box. I was almost running and dragging my wife along. I kept checking over my left shoulder to see if we could see. About the time we got "clear", I turned my wife back toward home plate where we both got to see Harry Carey pop out of the broadcast booth to sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame."
That was an experience that will stay with me for a long time. I could try to do some theological reflection on all of those expereinces that day, but I will be content to preserve some of those those images for moments when my soul (the baseball part or even all of it) might need them. Of course, if your soul has need, come by and I'll tell you the stories in person.
Yesterday, when I was listening to the Braves game, Chipper Jones hit a home run in the bottom of the first. The thought hit me . . . At that moment in Turner Field, there were many people who were there for the first time taking in sights and sounds and experiences that they might have only previously seen on TV. There were kids there wearing #10 jerseys and t-shirts who got to see their favorite player hit a home run. Surely they also deserve some kind of bonus if they stayed for all 17 innings. Who knows what their own pilgrimages might have accomplished for their souls?

Sharing the Love
Summertime always brings us such a wonderful array of odd television shows. Here are a few rapid fire reviews . . .
Wipeout: Boring! I was hoping it would be something like Most Extreme Elimination, the Japanese game show often "marathoned" on Spike TV, but it cannot live up to that caliber of entertainment. It's just an obstacle course show with poorly rendered sarcasm. Et tu, John Henson?
I Survived a Japanese Game Show: This is a little better. You get the fun of MXE mixed with a little Survivor strategy. It takes an hour, and you do notice.
My Name is Earl reruns: Make sure you get TBS and watch this American classic. My favorite episode was on last week where Joy is on the "happy pills" and she goes off, though still in happy mode, on her neighbors then compliments them on their dancing Santa. "Oh snap!"
America's Got Talent: not watching it.
Last Comic Standing: ditto.
Dodgeball: whenever that movie is on, I stop and watch. What's our motto? Aim low?
Braves baseball on FSN/SportsSouth/Peachtree TV: Sometimes rewarding. Sometimes painful. You would have won a bet trying to convince me that Brent Lillibridge is almost 25 years old.
Accompanying most of these great broadcasts is, I contend, the beer commercial of the year. Heineken hopes to sell its new Premium Light via their "Share the Good" spot. When I first saw this commercial I commented, "Oh man, that was a Coke commercial--for beer!" Take a look . . .
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sn-NtOXFE3Y
At first glance, I judged this beer ad to be the millennial version of "I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing." I wondered, "Can we do that with beer?" Was Heineken treading on some sacred space in our culture that for at least 35 years has preached world peace could be achieved with a candle in one hand and a Coke in the other? After seeing the commercial several more times, I felt a little different. This one is supposed to be sarcastic, and, yes, it is even funny. You probably don't need me to tell you what's funny, but trust me anyway. For as much as Michelob Ultra commercials wanted to be Gatorade commercials, the Heineken Premium Light commercial is not a Coke ad. It's actually beating up the Coke ad during recess--and we're in summer school! When we get a little bit closer to the Olympics, I imagine Coke will trot out several "world united" spots and you to might be able to see that Heineken has already made fun of it and perhaps even pointed out that "the Emperor is naked".

Dear Charleston Southern,
If you did notice the return address for this missive you might already know that the above salutation is given tongue firmly implanted in cheek. I am a little upset over CSU dropping Men's Tennis from the athletic program. Alas, poor men's tennis, I knew them well . . . but the program is yet another vicitm of the need to supply more football scholarships in order for that program to try to become competitive. The infamous NCAA rule known as "Title IX" dictates that scholarships for women's sports cannot be out of proportion with men's sports (I don't know if the ration is supposed to be 50:50--you're on the Internet, you look it up!). What this means is that if CSU wanted to add football scholarships (think they do?), they would also have to add scholarships for women's sports. To do this without raising more money means that another men's program has to lose scholarships or even lose the program altogether. Ergo men's tennis and their sacrificed forefathers men's soccer. Who could have seen this coming?
Why, thank you, I will toot my own horn. Take a look at this . . .
http://www.flickr.com/photos/27726669@N05/2613293229/sizes/l/
Hate to be a party pooper, but please cancel my reservation for the Miami trip.

Fantasy vs. Reality

I have been playing fantasy baseball for a number of years now. It finally got me into trouble.

A couple of weeks ago Trisha and I were watching the Braves play the Cubs. The Braves were getting shut out by the Cubs, thanks to pitching by Ryan Dempster. In the top of the 7th inning Corky Miller came up to pinch hit for Atlanta. He crushed, as Harry Carry would say, "a high . . . fly ball" to left field. At the ball flew I said--out loud, "C'mon, catch that." Well, Corky Miller's shot was caught . . . by a Cubs fan in the left field stands, but my supplication was also caught . . . by my wife.
"What did you say?"
"Uhh . . . nothing . . ."
"No, you said, 'C'mon, catch that.' What did you mean by that?"
I was busted. I had been rooting for Ryan Dempster to play well because he was on my fantasy baseball team. If Corky Miller's ome run had been a fly ball out instead, Dempster would have earned me a complete game shutout, rare points in fantasy baseball.
Trisha's response to this was a rather angry, "This is not fatasy baseball; this is REAL baseball!" as she pointed at the television.
All I could do was confess my wrongdoing and beg forgiveness.

Solomon's Nightgown

Down home in Reevesville, in the field where we used to play football, my father has planted daylilies. That sounds a little tame. Imagine enough yard space for at least 6 boys to have a lot of room for a football game. Now, imagine that space full of flowers. What word comes between garden and farm?

It is very close to peak daylily season in Reevesville. When last I was down there, Dad gave me a few plants to bring back home with me. I have decided to be his discount outlet store, so I loaded the car with 32 plants to find good homes for west of "the swamp".

The one thing I have learned about daylilies is statistics. Every variety of the flower has a pedigree and a detailed description that rivals the information on the back of Topps baseball card from the '80's. Here you can learn if you plants are evergreen or dormant. You can get a good estimate of how tall the stalks (scapes) will be and how big the blossoms will be.

Over the last 15 years, Dad has moved over 600 varieties of daylily through the "farden". When I was raiding the clearance aisle, he pointed out one in particular, lending some statistical analysis, "Take that one, it's real pretty."

Yesterday evening, I noticed something odd about this plant. I had to go look it up--turn its "card" over. The daylily known as Tuscawilla Taj Mahal is evergreen, throws right, bats right, hit .387 in it's last year in the minors, and it's NOCTURNAL. The unusual thing I saw was that at 7:30 p.m. it was starting to open. I checked it again at midnight, and it had opened more. At 4:00 a.m. it was in full bloom.

Jesus told his followers not to worry. "Consider the lilies of the field, "he said, "They neither toil nor spin, but I tell you the truth, even Solomon in all his splendor was not clothed like one of these." It is so easy to give in to anxiety. It is so easy to let our fears paralyze us. We have heard it's always darkest before the dawn, but scientifically, we know it is darkest at midnight with 6-7 more hours of dark to come. Having hope as followers of Jesus means that we hold on to that hope when it would be a whole lot easier to be hopeless. Even in our own darkness, it's a great help to know that there are lilies that bloom at night. "Will He not much more clothe you?"

The Mission Mezuzah

Over the last 5 weeks our church has been studying what it means to be a missional church.

Missional? Is that a word? According to spellcheck on Word it is not. But the word comes from South African missiologists who don't like to put h's in Jo-n, so I'm not too worried that Microsoft does not yet know the term. My favorite definition comes from Rick Bennett who says that it is being the presence of Christ on purpose. Another Baptist friend added the being a missional church is being the presnce of Christ on purpose for the sake of others whether anybody joins your church or not. That last phrase scared my Sunday school class a little.

One thing I have said for a long time is that we preachers need to preach "to the benediction". By that I mean that even our worship services are commissional and that each week we come to a point of sending our churches out to meet and pastor their own individual churches. This makes the benediction a time to bless (ordain?) the shepherds of a number of flocks.Our preaching should always imply and at times overstate that we are the ones Jesus was talking to saying, "Go therefore . . ." And he probably did it holding up at least one hand.

One of this week's devotional lessons asked the question, how do you go about proclaiming Christ's love? The answer? "Any way imaginable is possible when your heart is wiling to have your life transformed from self-centeredness and given to God's power and plan."

This devotion prompted 4 questions that I think we should ask ourselves daily.
Where will you go today?
What will you do today?
Who is waiting for you help today?
How will you go about proclaiming Christ's love?

Maybe we should ask them before we get out of bed. Maybe we should post them by the door and read them before we walk out to our days. Perhaps they should be encased in a Missional Mezuzah to remind us we are, as the Blues Brothers so richly proclaimed, "on a mission from God".

Cuban baseball update
Well, Los Gallos took the Lowlanders to 7 games, but Pinar del Rio beat Sancti Spiritus 7-6 to move on and face Santiago de Cuba for the championship. Wouldn't it be great if that was always the worst news coming out of Cuba?
Cuba is still viewed by the United States government as a terrorist state (a la President Bush's "axis of evil"). Restrictions on travelling to Cuba have gotten tighter, as have restrictions on Cubans travelling to the US. Our embargo deeply affects their economy. The cold war has been "over" for quite some time now, but we still treat a nearby neighbor as a threat. I wish our country would take the first step in a better relationship. I believe that real diplomatic relations between the US and Cuba might make things better. I am praying for this.

Let's be careful out there.
Folks, you didn't hear this from me, but the Internet can be a rather dangerous place. If you don't type so well, you could enter the wrong URL and be well on your way toward viewing objectionable content via the good intention paved path of helping your teenager with his biology homework. "Dot com" instead of "dot edu" could spell disaster (actually it only spells . c-o-m).
For the sake of your further education, though, I quintuple dog dare you to visit
www.uniquesplits.com
If you can locate their product. I believe you will be glad you did.

Cuba's Final Four
Well . . . while most of the sports world's attention is turned toward San Antonio for the NCAA men's basketball championships, I am planning on watching baseball. Of course, I'll take in as many Braves' games that are directed my way. I'm also enjoying the free preview of MLB Extra Innings on Direct TV. Mostly, though, I will be watching games on the Internet as the semi-finals in the Cuban National League get under way tonight.

I have gone on 4 mission trips to Cuba. My first trip in 2002 was during the baseball playoffs. We went to the game in Sancti Spiritus, and it was in that atmosphere that I realized I might be a pitiful sports fan. The fans in the stadium, as well as the majority of the Cuban population pin their hopes on their local teams. They tend to live and die with each pitch of the game. Add a salsa beat to the mix and I think you can glimpse the picture slightly. I must also mention that the best popcorn I've ever eaten was in Sancti Spiritus at estadio José Antonio Huelga (and only 1 peso!).

One cool note regarding this year's semi-finals is that all of the Havana teams have been eliminated from the playoffs. Pinar del Rio swept Industriales and Sancti Spiritus took out La Habana (oh yeah, the other Havana team Los Metropolitanos didn't make the playoffs). I would liken this to having the Yankees, Mets, and Red Sox knocked out of the MLB playoffs by the wild card team --heaven for the for the rest of the baseball world.

Here's your final four preview.

Eastern Conference Finals - Santiago de Cuba vs. Villa Clara
Game 1 tonight (Friday 4/4)

What? Do you really think I can offer expert analysis here? Sorry, who do you think I am, Peter Gammons? Here's what I know, the Hornets (Santiago) are the defending champions and the Oranges are the Cinderellas at this dance. Quote from VC's web site: "Santiago is a freight train, but trains derail." OOOOOOHH!!

Western Conference Finals - Sancti Spiritus vs. Pinar del Rio
Game 1, Saturday night (4/5)

How'd you like your favorite team to be known as the Holy Spirit Gamecocks? I guess that's the best translation for Los Gallos de Sancti Spiritus who'll host the LowLanders from tobacco country Saturday night. Let's hope our boys don't lay an egg. I take back the Cinderella comment and give it to the Gamecocks. They finished third in their division and bring the worst record (48-40) into the playoffs. Wild card? OK.

Pinar del Rio is the home of current Minnesota Twin Livan Hernandez. They still miss him back home and have refused to let pitcher Pedro Luis Lazo retire (99's not just his jersey #) until Livan moves back home.

Wanna watch the games. Here's a link: http://www.cocotest.cu/Playoff/index.asp

¡Vaya gallos!

Hey, guess where I am?
I am sooooooooo glad baseball season is here. But only 2 or 3 games into the season, I have seen enough of one thing. I am really tired of the cell phone people. You know these people, right? They are usually seated behind home plate, or beside the dugouts. They are ALWAYS on their cell phones waving over the batter's shoulder at whoever is on the other end of that phone conversation.

I tune into the broadcast to watch the game. I am not interested in seeing cell phone people. I think it is a tremendous waste of a great seat for WATCHING THE GAME!!!! That's the problem here. If you are looking out at me over Mark Teixeira's left shoulder, and you've got a cell phone up to your head, and you're waving or looking down holding your other ear shut, you are hardly a baseball fan who deserves dugout level seats on the Braves' side of the infield. At the risk of saying someting ugly, you are hardly a fan at all. I don't pay my satellite TV bill to watch you making sure your buddies see you.

This is one of the reasons I cannot argue with Red Sox or Yankees fans. Their fans go to the stadium to watch the game. Their fans show up at road games to root for the visiting team. Take a look around Turner Field, and you will see too many people who are there only to be seen not to watch. Don't get me started on the people who are only there to do the wave.

Unless you are at your first game ever and want to thank your Grandpa in Alaska who loves baseball for the sweet tickets he bought you, either hang up or give your seat to a kid who wants to grow up to be Brian McCann.

What's on Your iPod?
OK, I'm going to sound kinda OLD here, but recently while perusing Reader's Digest . . .
Yes, America's favorite little magazine has found that ideal place of prominence in our home--the magazine rack of the master bathroom. And by "magazine rack" I do actually mean atop the toilet tank. I'd put the Sunday School book in there, but who's got that kind of time?

Back to the subject. Over the last few months, I have enjoyed reading the celebrity interviews. In many recent articles RD has included a sidebar interview related to pop culture. Often the question that gets asked is, "What's on your iPod?" This month, Tina Fey confessed to having Britney Spears' "Outrageous" and the soundtrak from Annie in "high rotation".

Well, I have owned an iPod shuffle for less than a day now. It as a lot of music from grade school through college on it such as Fleetwood Mac, The Eagles, Spin Doctors, No Doubt, and Cranberries. But I had to give into guilty pleasures and pick up some more contemporary sounds. So in there with Don Henley you'll find Wyclef Jean because I'm working on incorporating the phrase "dolla-dolla bill, y'all" into my lexicon. Might slip it into the offertory prayer some weekend. And thank you, Fergie, for the way you say "Check it out!" Chris Brown is helping me add an entry under "boo". It's no longer only an interjection, folks!

What's really cool about my late entry to iPod-dom is that Trisha got the the "product RED" version. Apple will give a portion of it's purchase to the Global Fund to fight AIDS in Africa. (http://www.joinred.com/) So, having a red iPod gives me something else to talk about than the importance of having Green Day's "Holiday" turned waaaaaaaayyyy up! "Say! . . . Hey! " Of course, when I'm wearing my red iPod while riding my Heifer Project (www.heifer.org) water buffalo into a that needy village, a Big and Rich song might be a little more appropriate.

Branches in the Road
You might have heard that we had a tornado in Allendale on Saturday. That is not true. We had TORNADOES Saturday evening. The great news is that everyone is OK, but we have a lot of damage. One of my church members lost her home. What remains of it is scattered in the peach orchard across the highway. Her daughter lives next door, and her home is severely damaged.
http://www.wjbf.com/midatlantic/jbf/news_index.apx.-content-articles-JBF-2008-03-17-0001.html

A lot of trees and powerlines are down. A lot of roofs around here have at least one tree on them. Of course, people are still frightened and heartbroken. Cleanup has commenced on a variety of levels.

We came to Sunday morning services without electricity. We stuck with the Palm Sunday text from Matthew because there were a number of pharases there to resonate with. We understood quite well what it meant to be a "city in turmoil" (Mt 21:10). We all had shouted our "Hosannas in the highest", first in the original meaning of term "save us", and then in sighs of relief learing everyone was OK, and again in praises seeing FEMA representatives and Disaster Relief volunteers showing up quickly.

We came to Palm Sunday with branches in the road already, an appropriate carpet upon which Jesus can ride into this town. It looks like were heading into a very interesting Holy Week.

Of course, our tornadoes, weren't the only ones in SC one Saturday. Branchville is home to many childhood memories for me. That's where I got my haricut, celebrated Railroad Daze, and enjoyed many a cone of soft-serve ice cream. The Churn was one of the landmarks destroyed by a tornado. Here's an article about Branchville . . .
http://www.thetandd.com/articles/2008/03/17/news/13010723.txt

Haven't got sense enough to . . .

"The one constant through all the years has been baseball. America has
rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It's been erased like a blackboard,
rebuilt, and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this
game, is a part of our past. It reminds us of all that once was good, and what
could be again."

That's beautiful, Mr. Jones, but may I counter your oft quoted soliloquy with another gem from baseball cinema . . .

"A good friend of mine used to say, 'This is a very simple game. You throw the
ball, you catch the ball, you hit the ball. Sometimes you win, sometimes you
lose, sometimes it rains.' Think about that for a while."

People know I love baseball. One thing that keeps me sane in small-town church life is that there is a "field of dreams" of sorts right here in Allendale. The local junior college USC-Salkehatchie has a team, and when they play, I am there. No, the diamond is not carved out of a corn field, but it occupies space near pine woods that border the old airport.

The line from the Bull Durham quote that has been resonating with me is "sometimes it rains". We have had some nice downpours here in the last two weeks. It didn't rain on gamedays, but it rained so much on the days before that the games were cancelled or moved to the other school because the field flooded.

Let me be clear, I am not complaining about rain. We need it down here. I love baseball, but I also love peaches (Hear me, frost, you are not welcome here 'til October!).

Yesterday evening's game was scheduled for 5 PM. Walking out to the car, I noticed a few drops on the windshield. The game went on amid off and on light showers. I stayed for the whole thing and was treated to a 9th inning rally by the home team to win the game. I probably will have a cold, or pneumonia, or tuberculosis, but today I'm happy!

The Bird Funeral

Day four of the Gold Finch invasion of my front yard took a sad turn this morning. As I was on my way out to walk to the church office, I noticed one of the birds had died by the front door. I don't know what happened to him. I don't know if he crashed into the glass of the front door or if he'd been attacked by a cat or hawk. I'd like to think that he gave his last efforts in life defending the feeder from that "dang squirrel".

Last night, I led the Wednesday night crowd in a study of Matthew 24-25. We went through that long list of signs of the end of the age. Several could be viewed a threats. Some could be seen as natural events. All of them, though, must be interpreted as calls for Jesus' disciples to remain faithful, sharing the Good News to every corner of the earth until the end does come.

So, here on Thursday morning, I was presented with lab work based on Wednesday night's lesson. "Consider the birds of the air," Jesus said earlier in Matthew, "They don't grow crops or store grain in barns, but our Father in heaven cares for them." That point in the Sermon on the Mount is that God will take care of us also. We are called to remain faithful, and when we do we really are like the birds, doing what God created us to do without one worry.

I grabbed a shovel and headed out to the daylily patch. In a few months, the "lilies of the field" will be clothed in splendor just like the plumage this bird sported in summertime.

"Praise the Lord from the earth . . . wild animals and all cattle, creeping things and flying birds!" (from Psalm 148). Overhead, a mockingbird sang every song he knew.

Call Home; Play Van Halen

(If you're preaching on 1 Samuel 16:7 this Sunday, here's a freebie--you're welcome!)

It seems to me to be something of a mixed message. Perhaps you have seen the ads on television. The ones I am thinking about are for the new Ford vehicles that come equipped with SYNC, a voice activated technology that allows the driver to control his or her MP3 player or cell phone without releasing he steering wheel. This ad is easy to do on television. The commercial seems to be a simple demonstration of this new gadget. It is a much more difficult trick to pull off in a magazine.

The ad in last week’s Sports Illustrated began with a banner headline, “A lot of cars make a statement. This one listens.” That was followed by a brief explanation that the 2008 Ford Focus comes with “voice-activated SYNC technology”. The remaining 10 inches of the page proves that times really have not changed that much, in spite of the technological advances of the early 21st century. The rest of the page was a photograph of a shiny, sleek, brand-new, car. One inch of copy advertised what was available inside the car while the majority of the space was dedicated to a picture of one sharp looking vehicle.

Remember the Ford Focus’ distant, distant relative the Pinto? There could have been a super computer in the dashboard and a super model in the passenger seat. Those amenities could never change the fact that it was still a Pinto. When it comes to selling a car, appearance matters. That probably is true when it comes to selling anything. I almost missed the Ford ad because on the previous page Maria Sharapova was trying to sell me Gatorade.

Egg Before Chicken
I have been put on a “money diet”. Of course this is the time of year (New Year, Lent, etc.) when most people are on food diets as well. My apologies to the liturgical crowd, I do realize it’s called fasting in Lent. Gimme a break, I went to seminary, too.
As you can tell, I’m a bit cranky. See, where I spend money the most is on going out to eat. After church yesterday, I want to go out for lunch. I had preached well AND sung a duet which went well, too. I deserved a treat. I was hungry. Such formulas normally result in pastors eating fried chicken. Money diet said I had to stay home and have a sandwich (Mmmmm . . . egg salad). I could have begged. I could have pouted. Instead I saw $15 staying in the bank. It hurt, but I’m better for it.
I have been drinking more water lately. Today when I jammed my cup into the door of the refrigerator, and yes it does have a dispenser, no water came out. I switched to “ice” and I got ice. I switched back to “water” but no water. There was no way that I was going to even tempt my old nemesis “crushed ice” to complicate this matter.
Resolving to have water to drink, I put the tea kettle under the tap in order to boil water that would then have to cool in the refrigerator. I could have drunk water from the tap, but I am not far enough removed from the great, brown water episode of the summer of ’07. As I began to fill the kettle, I laughed as I yelled at myself, “You can BUY a jug of water at the store!”
OK, I am not kidding here. The moment I said that, I heard water drip at the door of the refrigerator. I stuck a cup there, and the water flowed out like latecomers to Sunday service—casual, free, clueless about their imposition, and without apology. And, to go against the grain of the Old Testament story (Exod 15 and/or17), I am not bitter about it. It actually tastes pretty good. Sorry, I can’t blog much more right now. You see, I’ve had a lot of water to drink and . . .

Sorry You've Missed Me
It is time to apologize AGAIN for not updating the blog. It might prove, though, that ministers can be just as busy as normal people.