Music

If you really know me, you know that I can't get through an entire conversation (or let you get through an entire conversation) without bursting out in song. Something you say--anything you say--reminds me of a song I know and usually in that moment I feel compelled to share. Mom and Dad sometimes get annoyed with my overly obnoxious "singing" voices in which I try to imitate the musician whose song I am singing.

I have always known that music has been a big part of my life, but I don't think I realized how big it was until these last couple of days. As most people, I was crushed to hear about the passing of Whitney Houston, a huge legend in the music industry but excited to see her career celebrated tonight at the Grammy's--the one time of year where all music from all genres come together and get to be one big family. (And maybe even hold hands singing Kum Bah Yah around the campfire).

Tonight, as I watched the Grammy's, I realized that music seriously is always happening around me. When I wake up in the morning before I make breakfast or get in the shower, I have to have music. When I go to the gym, I refuse to go without my iPod. When I get in the car, the first thing I do is find some music that fits my mood. When I go to church, I feel most connected by the music. I use music when I am happy. I use music when I want to be angry. I use music to cope when I'm feeling sad. When I need energy, I go to music. When I get bored, I drum on the table, on my stomach, on anything that's around just to make music. Music is good for all emotions and transcends cultural and linguistic boundaries. Whether we're young or old, we're all affected by music. Music is so awesome and I don't know what my life would be like without it.

To all of those who have introduced music to me in some form or fashion, I thank you. To my father who always sang (and still sings) weird songs and talks about his 45s and his 8 tracks, thanks. To my grandmother who has been a big influence to me in church music, thank you. To my siblings and friends who say "oh, you need to hear this song", thanks. To all of those who put up with my terrible, terrible singing, thank you. You all have touched me in some way.

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"I was born with music inside me. Music was one of my parts. Like my ribs, my kidneys, my liver, my heart. Like my blood. It was a force already within me when I arrived on the scene. It was a necessity for me-like food or water."
Ray Charles

Super Bowl XLVI Commercials

The Super Bowl is known for its commercials that advertisers pay big bucks for, it's no secret. My top 3 picks:

Third Place:

M&Ms "Sexy & I Know It"--These commercials usually have some element of humor to them, but this was hilarious. The song itself is funny enough, but the commercial had naked candy humor and even incorporated the "wiggle wiggle wiggle"...who can't laugh at that?

Second Place:

2012 VW Beetle "The Dog Strikes Back"--It seems like everyone's obsessed with exercise and health these days but to see them take it to a new level and get the pets involved was hysterical. Ugly car, funny commercial. 

First Place:

The Voice "Vocal Kombat"-- Hands down, best commercial of the whole Super Bowl. Four superstars and the trump card of all trump cards: Betty White.

Divine Intervention in Indianapolis

First of all, to those who have contributed to the 120+ views this blog has seen in the last 2 months since I made my last post, I apologize for slacking. School picked up...and then stopped. And honestly, I just didn't feel like writing anything for a while. While I'm not promising an extreme change, hopefully my next post won't be 2 months from today. With that said, in the spirit of the Superbowl, enjoy!

As many of you know, I had some minor surgery last Monday that's left me in recovery for the week. Most of the week has been spent on the couch watching endless amounts of television and just as many hours surfing the net. Without a doubt, I have gotten my fill of pop culture news and caught up on all kinds of television shows. I've seen hours and hours of talk shows, reality shows, scripted tv, news, etc. and have seen a lot of talk about the Superbowl that is happening now in a matter of hours. The seminarian and the pop culture whiz in me collided quickly when I first heard the story of an email that supermodel Gisele Bundchen, wife of New England Patriot's quarterback Tom Brady sent out to her family and friends. The text of the alleged email is as follows:

My sweet friends and family,

This Sunday will be a really important day in my husband's life. He and his team worked so hard to get to this point and now they need us more than ever to send them positive energy so they  can fulfill their dream of winning this Super Bowl...

So I kindly ask all of you to join me on this positive chain and pray for him, so he can feel confident, healthy and strong. Envision him happy and fulfilled experiencing with his team a victory this Sunday.

Thank you for your love and support. Love, G :)

While my initial response was to joke that God stopped caring about the Super Bowl when Tim Tebow and the Broncos were put out by the Patriots (which if anything, would hurt the Patriots), I continued to think about it. As Aisha Tyler said on a CBS talk show mocking Bundchen, "Dear God, I know there's war and starving babies and stuff, but if you could just work on my husband's Super Bowl victory.....that'd be greaaaaat!" Gisele's requests seemed very shallow to me. Just like all of us, we want to be successful, we want to win, and we want God on our side--but where do we draw the line?

I personally don't think that God has anything at stake in the Super Bowl game--no, not even if Tim Tebow was playing. I find it absolutely hilarious when I watch reality shows and people pray for God to help them win the million. When they use God and religion not only as a reason for making every single move that they do in their game, but also expecting God to shun those who do not conform to their specific form of gameplay. It's hard for me to believe that God would intervene in the Super Bowl to help one team beat the other (as I'm sure fans of both teams have been praying for a victory). It's hard for me to believe that God cares who wins the million in a game where they volunteer to be stranded on a deserted island with limited resources and told to "survive" when we have many people around the world for which every day is a struggle to survive--not some game in which they can win money for making it 39 days.

However, in a weird sort of way I did find something encouraging and positive about Gisele's wish for success on her husband's big day. I think so often we get so caught up in our own lives and our own achievements that we fail to recognize those of our loved ones. We don't too often lift each other up when things are going good or have the potential to go good, but we are so quick to tear each other down when something goes wrong. Especially with the trend in marriages lately, could more marriages be saved if people stopped looking out for their own selfish needs and started to speak words of encouragement and endearment to their partners and spouses? I'm not saying it would solve all the world's problems, but it could start. I know this post seems a little out-of-place but it's just what I am thinking about right now which is why I write and why you have come to read.

Giants or Patriots? I don't really care, but Gisele this post is dedicated to your beautiful self.

In Memoriam

Ten years ago today, I was in the seventh grade. I came home from school on the bus, like any other day. I ran down the street excited to finally be out of school, like any other day. However, once I walked inside, there was an obvious feeling of sadness, of something not quite right. That is when I learned that my grandpa was in the hospital. This was very odd, considering he had been in pretty good health for as far back as I could remember. His appendix, which had apparently been perforated unbeknownst to him or anyone else, had ruptured. While the severity of this situation was explained to me, it wasn’t something I could really comprehend. I just knew the doctors would work their magic and Grandpa would be okay. Regardless, I wanted to see him. After begging my parents to take me to see him, we finally settled on a compromise—tomorrow after school.

The next school day seemed like it took an eternity, but I finally made it through and rode the bus back home, just like the day before. But this time, it was different. When I arrived at home, my sister and I were asked to have a seat on the couch, and before they could even begin talking, it was obvious what my parents were about to say. I’m not really sure what all was said in that conversation. All I remember was a lot of crying, a lot of tissues, and a lot of hugging. So many questions went through my head, many relating back to why—why this had to happen so quickly, why I never got a chance to say goodbye….why?

Ten years later, I still think about him almost daily. I still keep his picture on display in whatever room, dorm, apartment I occupy and I always think about the impact he had on me and my life. I think about the memories that we shared together—the card playing, Camp Vevay, holidays, etc. and how Grandpa was always enthusiastic about whatever activities we were sharing in at the moment. There is no doubt in my mind that my strong sense of family was impacted tremendously by him and Grandma.

On this second Sunday of Advent, I think about peace. With many children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, Grandma and Grandpa probably didn’t too often experience peace. However, knowing they are always with me brings me a little bit of peace this and every Christmas season.

Love you, miss you. 

Church

Wow. I’m writing this blog fresh still on my high from chapel today….and yes, I actually did go to chapel today. I’m probably about as surprised as you. Claudio Carvalhaes, who I have had the privilege of learning from this semester in Intro to Worship, was giving his last sermon at LPTS before he moves on after this year and I wanted to go and support him.

The service started out very…traditional: call and response, hymns, prayers, etc. However, as it progressed, it became everything but that, which is what made it so awesome. The essence of his message as I perceived it was this: be willing to try new things, accept new people and experience things outside of what you have always done…push the limits. As he was finished with it, he casually tossed each piece of paper from his sermon on the ground, over his shoulder, anywhere but where one would think it should go.

What happened afterwards was single-handedly the coolest experience I think I’ve ever been involved in. As the praise band started playing and Claudio started singing, the people started dancing! Starting out with clapping and a little body moving, people gradually felt more comfortable and started dancing not only in their pews but in the aisles and on the chancel. People were truly feeling the spirit and letting it move with them, complete with confetti and streamers. As the song ended, we all gathered on the chancel, around the table and shared in communion. We served each other and enjoyed each other’s company—we even said the Words of Institution together. The bread and cup, however, were not the only elements present on the table. It was filled with fruits, veggies, chips, dips—the whole nine yards. And after we finished sharing in the bread and cup, we held hands, prayed, and fellowshipped with one another, sharing in the feast that was on the table before us.  

This experience reminded me of why I came to seminary and what church should be like. It made me wonder, why do we do things the way we do them? Does it really hurt to try something new? To me, church should be exactly what it was today—a celebration of Jesus Christ and all the wonderful things He does for us. Sometimes, I think we get way too caught up in the politics of everything and lose sight of the work that we are really being called to do. I love church, and I love the way we do church. But church, like everything else, can use a little change. While the season of thanksgiving may be over in the eyes of society, I will attempt to continue practicing thanksgiving. So today, I am thankful for people who are not afraid to push the limits and move for change.

If you believe and I believe

And we together pray,

The Holy Spirit must come down

And set God’s people free.

-a hymn from Zimbabwe

The Season of Thanksgiving

A few weeks ago, as some of you know I got an ear infection. While it did cause me quite a bit of pain, it was cleared up in a matter of days. However, because I get ear infections more frequently than probably most infants, I decided it might be a good move to see a specialist. As many of you are probably aware, getting in to see a specialist takes a few weeks. In order to see my doctor back at home, I realized this would require me to miss either a day of class or a day of work.

Sitting in the doctor’s office today, I found myself thinking about the season and plans for next week. Naturally, I found myself finding things for which I am thankful. The stereotypical answers children normally give to this question popped into my head first—friends, family, food, etc. However, the more I thought about it the more I realized that the situation I was currently in was enough for me to be thankful for.

I am fortunate enough to not only be able to receive an education in which I will be able to do something I love, but I also have a job that I really enjoy and that pays higher than minimum wage. I am able to afford not only the things that I need, but also a few “wants” as well. Additionally, having the ability to see a specialist (let alone a regular doctor for basic health needs) is a greater blessing than I ever realized before. Since August, I have met new people and experienced new things that have made me realize how many people don’t have those same basic comforts that I have. After some quick searching on the internet, I found statistics that show that roughly 50.7 million (16.3%) of Americans don’t have health insurance and roughly 1 billion people worldwide cannot afford basic healthcare.

I think it is because of reasons such as this that I find the whole Occupy movement so intriguing. While I don’t consider myself to be very skilled or knowledgeable in the political arena, the poverty and hardships that many people face is absolutely unacceptable. With the gap between the rich and poor growing, I see that there is a sense of urgency in these matters and what I can do personally, I am still trying to figure out. However, I do know this—if you have access to food, clean water, family and friends who love you, basic healthcare, an education, etc. you have plenty to be thankful for this season.

"If living is the price to be free

Then I wish it was the same for everyone."

Elliott Yamin, "Find a Way"

An Eye-Opening Experience

The other day in my Intro to Worship class, we began the day just as any other--through relaxation, song and prayer. Class discussion began with a simple activity in which everyone participated, as normal. But then we were given some strange instructions. "African American students, please take a seat in the front row. White students, take a seat up in the balcony." Shocked by the professor's request, I followed orders. I felt a sense that I knew what the point of this activity would end up being. What I didn't know was how deeply it would affect me.

As we sat in the balcony listening to our professor lecture, I stopped really listening after he said something to the effect of: You all are up there because you are unclean. You aren't worthy of being this close to the spirit--to the word of God.

While those words were not his verbatim, I immediately felt shocked and uncomfortable, almost sick. Understanding the goal of this exercise, I started thinking about the ways in which humanity has been, and still is separated and segregated. And for just a second, I felt some connection with all of those who have been outcast and marginalized. Fortunately for me, I could escape it when the exercise was over and the class was dismissed. Unfortunately, however, I realized how real this whole scenario was for some of my classmates in their everyday lives. It may not be the 1960s anymore, but for some--too many--that hate, segregation and marginalization still lingers.

In our debriefing of this exercise in class, a classmate expressed her discomfort with being placed at the front of the chapel explaining as if she felt she was on display for all of those sitting in the back. She added that she wondered what the people in the back felt but at the same time realized that historically speaking, the people in the front of the church didn't really give much thought to those in the back. Personally, I found myself avoiding looking at the front row at all. This was not at all because I was trying to ignore what was happening, but rather because I felt shame. Shame for the way they have been treated, shame for the way their ancestors were treated and shame that their treatment could have been at the hand of my ancestors. While I realize that I am not personally responsible for all the injustice in the past, I am responsible for the justice of the future, which is what I believe I'm being called to do.

"Be kinder than necessary,

for everyone you meet is fighting

some kind of battle."
-T.H. Thompson and John Watson