Swamp

Friends, I’ve been up to my knees in a recording.  My spare time has been very, very limited.  Therefore, I feel I really need to apologize for the lack of posts lately.  It’s been tough, because I really enjoy “keeping in touch” with you guys this way.

The Christmas album will be released at West Ridge soon.  The end is in sight.  I promise to post something of substance soon enough.

Grace and Peace.  jc

Crazy Things

You’ve all been watching the news…

?

What’s up?  What’s going on out there?  Why should we be so surprised that money – and as some would say, America – has failed us?  Money is not God, and America is not God…  so why’ve we put so much faith in these two things?  We cannot serve God and money.  We cannot serve God and America.  We cannot have two masters.

There’s an important distinction to make here – we can offer our services to God and to the people of any country, but we cannot serve a country.

But really, I’ve started to wonder a bit…  are money and country really just ideas more than they are tangible nouns?  Are we freaking out about things that are figments of our collective imagination?  Sure we’ve set up institutions and budgets and governments to make sure these ideas stay firmly in place, and those things are real.  I can hold money in my hand, and if I spend too much – well, I run out.  Likewise, if I go too far South, I’ll be in a place called Mexico – and without making the proper arrangements for my little getaway, I may get thrown in a very real place called jail.  So yes, it’s a fact that we have money and we have country.

But I think we invented them.  And I don’t believe they came from the purest of intentions, either.

Who out there also believes our borders are artificial?  Can I get an amen?

Isolating ourselves from each other is not in line with God’s dream.  If you fly in a space shuttle up into the orbit of our beautiful earth, you won’t see all kinds of multicolored lines on our land separating counties, cities, states, provinces, and countries like you do in our atlas.  Just vast expanses of rolling green and brown terrain, and deep blue ocean.

And money doesn’t do you much good when no one owns land…  because what can we really “own” anyway?  Who does it all belong to?

Just food for thought.

 

Grace and Peace.  -jc

Christmas in September

“The love we’ve found,

The love we’ve found,

We carry with us,

So we’re never quite alone.”

—

Beautiful lyrics, right?  Too bad they’re from the Muppet Christmas Carol.  That’s right…  pieces of felt worn on the hand, shaped by Jim Henson’s “creature shop” into the likenesses of animals and cartoonish characters – they somehow harmoniously “sang” this song to end a movie that holds such a dear place in my heart, it’s really hard to describe.

And luckily, friends, I have the esteemed privilege of experiencing Christmas for the last three or four months of my year.  With a Christmas album to produce, and a Christmas-theme dinner theater (“Dinner in December” at West Ridge Church) to plan, I’m up to my knees in Christmas cheer…  and it’s only September.

I must say, I’m catching a little glimpse of what we always hear major recording artists saying on their infomercials when they’re promoting their X-mas albums:  ”These songs are so near to my heart, and were such a joy to record.  I hope you enjoy them as much as I did.  Merry Christmas, and God Bless.”

*Cue deep-voiced-announcer-guy, and yellow-font song titles that appear in succession*

Whereas before I dismissed such hubbub as quickly as the Chia-Pet infomercial to follow, I’ve got to tell you…  even though it’s a cheesy little cliche that will sell a ton of albums, it’s also very true.  Maybe I judged ole’ Vince Gill a little too harshly.  I will say, however, that mullet did him no justice on the album cover of “Let There Be Peace On Earth.”  But I’ll cut him a break…  that was 15 years ago.

You have no idea how deeply these songs have impacted you until you begin to rearrange them, recording them with a little bit of your own personal spin.  They just fall right out of you, truly.  And the feelings they conjure are just incredible.  You feel like you’re 6 years old again, which in my case was almost 20 years ago.  More for some of you, less for others.  Regardless, I think all of us can clearly identify this specific feeling.

I’m celebrating it.  I thank God that all my yearly celebrations of Jesus’ birth have carved out such a deep, wonderful place in my heart and in my spirit.  How appropriate.

So I’ve gone ahead and whooped out the egg-nog.

 

-jc

The Stars Over Tybee Island

Sabbath.

Ah.

That’s what I did for a whole freaking week.  Incredible.  I just lived and breathed…  no working, worrying, toiling, or stressing.  Just laying around on couches, beaches, booths, and beds.

Me and my family enjoyed about 4 days of our week-long Sabbath in Tybee Island, Georgia.  For any of you who are wondering, Tybee is just East of Savannah (maybe a 20 minute drive from there).  It’s a completely different culture than any you see throughout the rest of Georgia.  The clocks slow down.  Everyone’s on bikes.  They’re all tan.  The old folks are in good shape (for the most part).  Everyone’s late for everything, and nobody really cares.  There’s a local saying:  ”you’re on Tybee time now.”

The beach is a little more wild and untouched.  The buildings along the shore aren’t towering condominiums or resorts…  they’re houses and hole-in-the-wall restaurants, and almost all of them look like they were built at least 20 years ago.  You feel more like nature is at home here, instead of feeling like we’re taking her land – as I tend to feel in larger coastal cities where the beach sun is being blocked by huge beach-front hotels, with a soundtrack of humming tires and abrasive car-horns.

I’m telling you, if you haven’t been there you need to go sometime.  Stay somewhere cheap.  Don’t visit Tybee wanting a typical, pampered, expensive escape.  You’ll miss out on it’s charm.  Instead, walk around with wet shorts and sand on your feet.  Rent bikes.  Sweat a little.  Walk to your restaurants, or to “The Pier” (the whole island is only a little over 2 miles long!).  Eat at AJ’s.  It’s some of the best food you’ll ever eat.  Be human in a less burdensome way.  That’s what we did, and it was enlightening.

Oh, and lastly…  walk on the beach at night.  The breeze cools you down.  The waves are small, calm, constant.  These are the sounds and sensations of God at work, who took six days to set it all in motion.  The seventh is set apart to enjoy it all.  Hallelujah.

And don’t forget to look up.  You’re miles from a city.  There’s no light pollution.  The Milky Way is remarkably beautiful when you can actually look up and see its stars, some shooting across the sky.

Can you tell I loved it?

I’m Preventing Revolution

Another confession.  Maybe I spoiled it with the headline.

Yeah, I’ve pretty much reached the conclusion that I lack balance on the delicate seesaw of Skepticism vs. Enthusiasm.  That’s right…  I feed Skepticism like a glutton, and it’s become overweight – the seesaw is a bit “unbalanced”.  It’s no fun for poor Enthusiasm, suspended in the air, her legs dangling, hoping her feet will touch the ground again.  Hmmm…  maybe I reached a bit too far for that analogy.

I guess now I’ve got to explain.  

…

Wow, that sounded bitter.

I love church.  But I think “church” means something different to me than it does to other people.  I’ll admit – maybe I’m guilty of believing my perspective is better than most people’s.  I love it when people share Christ, which I believe they’re doing when they cook together, listen to each other’s hurts, pray together, share their possessions, etc.  I think this is church…  and it doesn’t just happen on Sunday mornings.

Luckily, I serve at a church that holds almost all the same values and opinions on church/biblical community that I hold.  The slogan is “life change happens in small groups”.  They champion the cause of the home gathering.  They insist and insist that our Sunday gatherings will feel disjointed and impersonal for an attender if they’re not involved in a small group, and I completely agree.

How fortunate that I share the same values…  or do I?

I know the hearts of the leaders at our church.  I see their sincere desire for people to experience the kind of community we see in Acts chapter 2.  But sometimes I wonder if other people are seeing the “small group” as just another standardized, subsidized institution of the church – or as the genuine, communal, independent gathering that it is.  

And then I realize something.

I’m the one guilty of the misconceptions.  I’m the one that subscribes to the “Sunday morning is all church is” mentality, however indirectly.  I live like there’s a reality present that conflicts with my ideal reality, and it leaks over into my passions.  It squelches them.  Though I say church is happening all week long, I’m not living in celebration of that reality, nor am I thriving in it like I should be.  So the question is, “do I really believe it?”

This also happens to affect my vision for what God’s called me to do at our church.  Issues like this will invade my psyche, and they’ll become the filter through which I’m running potential opportunities for passion and enthusiasm.  Perhaps I’ve not been able to see the forest for the trees.  I believe it was Benjamin Franklin who said, “every problem is an opportunity in disguise.”  The quote I’ve actually been living is, “I have the answer for every problem, but I just don’t have the power to effect the widespread change I want to see.”

I think I’m seeing that God fills my mind with these thoughts not to give me a jaded position on the state of the “church” and my “calling”, but to subtly remind me that my father was a wandering Aramean.  In other words, to remind myself – just as the ancient Jews were instructed – that I’m not to feel freed from God’s prophetic refining process in my life.  I come from a long line of imperfection, and the first person under the microscope should always be me.  It’s also a cause for celebration – that God’s brought me a long way in my life, but I need constant reminders that I’m not as far ahead of the curve as I sometimes give myself credit for.  

Passion comes from the Greek word pathos, which means suffering.  If I’m going to suffer anything, may it be in heeding God’s correction…  and not the pain of living in a manner that’s separate from His dream.  So maybe I could say it this way – refining myself to be aligned with His heart is steadily becoming my passion.

Friends, here’s the apology:  I realize that a movement or a revolution starts with the determined, passionate vision of at least a few people.  As someone chosen to serve the church through music, I’m sincerely sorry for impeding the revolution God dreams of for our community.

So here I stand, united in spirit with my brothers and sisters; I judge myself first, and other people or situations last.  I pull logs out of my own eye, leaving the specks in others’ eyes for last… or leaving them to God.

May we all, in humility and passion, prepare the way for our Risen Lord.  Grace and Peace.  

-jc

You’re Beyond

http://www.myspace.com/jakecolliermusic

 

I wrote another new tune called “You’re Beyond”.  I don’t know how congregational it is, but it’s definitely got a strong hook, and the melody is easy to sing…  aside from the somewhat contemplative lyrics.

I wrote it from the standpoint of realizing Jesus as the firstborn of all creation, as Paul calls Him in Colossians.  This song could easily be seen as positing God as distant, or untouchable.  There’s a goal here; it’s to not overdo theology in one little 3 minute song.  It’s to speak to how we see God’s majesty all around us as we search here on the earth, whether we know it’s Him or not.  And we’re trying to respond in worship to a being who is far superior to us in intellect and essence.  It’s hard to do, but at least we’re trying.  

I see Jesus everywhere, in every new discovery and every unveiled truth – “holding all things together”, so to speak.  Take this song in the context of every other worship song ever written, and I think it’s a good thought to add to the conversation that’s been going on from saints of old to the present day.  So, here are the lyrics:

 

What awesome fresh discoveries,

Have you not known for ages?

Our eyes, they marvel at these,

The first of countless pages.

 

Your glories shine just like the sun.

Our world is thine, Oh Holy One!

Oh, how we’re trying to respond,

But you’re beyond; Yes, you’re beyond!

 

What creatures dwell in forests,

Or dive to depths uncharted?

New life that sparks our interests,

Your miracle imparted!

 

How can we miss your holiness?

How can we not be filled with awe?

Our telescopes and microscopes

Are glass lit dimly, but…

 

You shine just like the sun.

Our world is thine, Oh Holy One!

Oh, how we’re trying to respond,

But you’re beyond; Yes, you’re beyond!

We Are Surrounded

http://www.myspace.com/jakecolliermusic

The song “We Are Surrounded” is a new one we’ll be introducing to our lovely congregation August 3rd, 2008.  It’s a song I wrote from the confused state of reverent fear we often find ourselves in as the Bride of the Almighty.  The song starts with a kind of urgent feel, the chords revolve around a minor chord root, and the mood is a nervous kind of anticipation.  The verses speak a stanza of God’s power and somewhat “awful” holiness, then a stanza of how God is personal and loving.  Again, it’s a confused state we live in…  and why shouldn’t it be?  We’re talking about God here.

The pre-chorus serves as a kind of balm for the congregation – though there’s no hiding from this gigantic God, he is caring for our wounds, and we share in his Love.  All of our secrets are laid bare, but all of our wounds are in your care.

The choruses sum it up.  We are surrounded and astounded.

–

Pillar of Fire, burning with love

Melt all our hardness away

Transforming God, Oh Gracious One

Send us your mercy, we pray!

 

For all of our secrets are laid bare,

But all of our wounds are in your care,

And all of your love is what we’re sharing

 

Holy God, we are surrounded!

We are surrounded by your love.

Precious Lord, we are astounded!

We are surrounded by your love.

 

Lion of Judah, fierce and untamed

Banish our fears far away!

Rock of the Ages, standing unchanged,

Be our foundation, we pray!

 

For all of our secrets are laid bare,

But all of our wounds are in your care,

And all of your love is what we’re sharing

 

Holy God, we are surrounded!

We are surrounded by your love.

Precious Lord, we are astounded!

We are surrounded by your love.

 

-jc

Perfection

I got an email the other day from a friend of mine.  He sent me a little essay this guy wrote about worship music.  Here’s what the fella had to say:

This morning we sang a series of songs which all had the same kind of unifying theme – the bigness of God. Now I have nothing against this kind of theme, which is quite popular in worship music today, but it did leave me wondering a few things. As we sang God of Wonders, I kept thinking about the first line, “God of wonders beyond this galaxy.” What is the point being made here? Is it that God’s wonders extend beyond this galaxy, or is it that God is a God of wonders that somehow resides infinitely beyond our galaxy? 

Fair enough.  The guy’s not saying there’s anything wrong with writing about God’s otherness, but he wonders if it’s a point we’ve harped on a bit too much.  Maybe we’ve lost one truth in the midst of celebrating another.  Here’s more…  starts to get interesting:

Why is much of our worship focused on the image of God being above and beyond this creation? I’m wondering if this has something to do with our vision of the nature of this world. If our dominant vision of this world as something inherently and utterly sinful, lacking anything good, does this in fact necessitate that we posit God as wholly other, outside, and beyond this creation? It is almost as if we are afraid of attaching an immanent presence to God for fear of somehow tainting God in the process. 

Preach, brother.  One more excerpt, and I’ll share my thoughts:

While the early Church apparently wrestled with the divinity of Jesus, the current Church has subsequently wrestled with the humanity of Jesus, even approaching something close to docetism – the thought of Jesus as not being fully human, but as something wholly other. It just seems that we are somehow more comfortable with seeing God as “other” than wrestling with the holy in our midst.

So here’s the question I wrestled with this morning. What might it look like to worship God as immanently present, the holy in our midst? What if our worship was not contained merely as worshiping God as originator and controller of the world, but equally embraced God as incarnationally present in this world?

I think the answer to that question might change the way we worship, how we see this world and the kingdom, as well as how we might live in this world.

–

Is that not one of the most beautiful perspectives on worship you’ve heard in a while?  I’ve got to tell you, this little essay really lit me up.  It’s really encouraged me and got me thinking.  God, here in me.  Not somewhere else in secluded perfection, but perfectly here in me.  This changes everything.

There are a multitude of different, specific levels on which we could elaborate, but the specific word that stuck out in my mind was perfection.  ”Perfection” means being complete.  It means lacking nothing.  Perhaps that’s why this word describes God so well.

But this begs a question:  if we are indwelled by God, then is it okay to accept that maybe He has made (or is making) us perfect?

We have obviously done nothing to deserve God’s grace, and we are doomed without him.  But is there something beautiful we can accept about ourselves, living in the grace of this unfathomable, yet relational God?  Can we accept that perfection lives in us, making us more perfect day by day?  Heck, Jesus stepped into human skin and lived a perfect life.  Wow.  Jesus has healed humanity.  This is a cause for celebration…  for worship!

Even further still, in light of one of my latest posts, Quantum, is it a stretch to assume this Jesus – who holds all things together – is making all things perfect, perfecting all things?  When we fell in the garden of Eden, creation fell with us.  How wonderful then is the vision of Jesus redeeming all things!  He was involved in the creation of everything, and is continuing to hold all things together, and…  well – he’s perfect.

Have you ever had one of those heavenly moments when the stars aline, life is grand and beautiful, and all you can do is just stop and say, “Wow.  This is perfect.”  I don’t think we’re wrong when we feel this.  I think we’re feeling Jesus, redeeming our world and making it complete.  We are feeling wholeness.

Makes sense.

Also makes for a great song.  -jc

Humbled

This will be a short blog entry.

I’ve come face to face with the reality of how precious this leather-bound bible should be to me.  It’s blind-sided me.  I’ll admit…  I cry about it regularly.

The idea that our predecessors went through such rigorously pure, laborious measures to make sure these holy words were preserved – that floors me, and really makes me turn a sober eye to the man in the mirror.  ”Passion” has become a word that embodies a movement of college students firmly resolute to bring God the worship He deserves.  It’s a beautiful thing…  but the word “passion” itself has become somewhat fashionable.  Maybe trendy.

I’ll tell you this.  I know of no passion that can rival that of those wonderfully reverent people who have preserved our scriptures.  Woe is me that God’s name passes my lips so casually.  These folks went and washed themselves every time they wrote God’s name…  they were hesitant to even speak it.  That is passion.

I am undone by this.  But thank you God.  This word that has such value – it’s your Word to me.  Incredible.  I have no clue what to say.

-jc

Gaze of the Critical Eye

I have a confession to make.  If you are a regular attender of West Ridge Church, I’ve projected a character trait onto you that you don’t entirely deserve.  Ready?

I’ve decided you are hyper critical.

It’s true…  we get complaints sometimes about our worship atmosphere.  Happens a lot, actually.  But I know that on my end, I’m feeling a pressure to perform that doesn’t come from the vast majority of you…  It comes from me.  I’ve decided the only way to free you from distraction is to perform with absolute perfection.  It can create real stress for me, and it’s pointless.  I owe you more respect than to stress myself out trying to lay it all out perfectly for you.  You don’t need hand outs from me.  You are fully capable of worshipping, even if the leadership coming from me is imperfect.

So I’m sorry.  Grace and Peace.  -jc