Mischief

You remember the line from Risky Business... "Sometimes you just have to say what the heck." Or something along those lines... ;) The last two days I've been feeling the spirit of mischief sweeping over me and telling me to do things and say things that I've been keeping bottled up for a while. This is dangerous. These are the sorts of paths that once you start down them, you don't know where they'll take you. Some might take you in good directions, some in bad. I read on Facebook today that an old friend, David Johnson, was going "All In" in pursuit of his career. That's the sort of feeling this is - that reckless kind where you take a flyer on your life and let the chips fall where they may.

This morning I was reading of people standing in the middle of the street protesting the California Supreme Court's ruling on Prop. 8 and they were being arrested. And I suddenly thought, "Why am I not being arrested?" Nevermind the fact that I'm not that overwrought with emotion on either side of this issue, the feeling was, "Why can't I get that passionate about something that I would be arrested for it?" Why am I not committing acts of social justice? Reckless thoughts... thoughts that interfere with my normal life.

I'm constantly amazed at the faith shown by Ariel Vanderhorst over at Bittersweet Life. Straight out of compton (or Seminary, whichever...) he started up a new Church Plant in Downtown K.C.. And after all this time, its roots are finally beginning to find solid soil. Granted, this is God's doing, but to have the faith to take up such a challenge with a family and kids, is simply wonderful.

I'm also profoundly jealous of the wisdom of Randall Sherman over at Hinterland. Though we might not always agree in life, I can never fault his logic nor his wisdom. I admire the fact that he keeps reciting his beliefs in a straightforward and logical way that makes my responses sound foolish or shrilly emotional. I find myself agreeing with him even when I don't want to and I strongly suspect that he's right more often than I am. I remember in boot camp when I first arrived and the recruits in the final week looked at us and universally offered us encouragement, "You can do it! If I can make it, you can!" When I finally reached the final week of boot camp, I found myself offering the same advice to the new recruits. I see the esteemed Mr. Sherman as my final week boot camp advice. I may not understand it yet, or agree with it, but I know that in a little while, I'll be parroting it back to others.

Maybe these feelings shall pass. Maybe I'll quickly return to a point where I am in control of my life and continue to proceed cautiously. But in recent weeks I've thrown in my hat for a trip to Kenya that I can not afford and have agreed to preach a sermon without any concept of what I'm going to say. Today I dropped a reality bomb on my Director and then I requested a new friendship with an old flame on Facebook. None of these things make any sort of logical sense. Everyone of them is rocking my boat and sending me down uncharted paths.

And I don't care... I'm tired of being in control. I'm ready to take this life for a spin and see where I end up. Fear is still there, but for now, mischief is in control and I've no idea where its taking me. All I know is that if I can have the faith of Ariel and the wisdom of Randall, I should be okay. If not, there's always the shrill and the emotional. They've worked so well for me before!

The Sermon Part Three

Everything is going perfectly. I spent the entire day not thinking about the sermon at all. My brain, which has been a bit of mush the last couple of days, is resting.

The resting of your brain is an important step in the writing process. This is the part of the process that in cooking would be the equivalent to sitting on the couch watching TV while the water boils. It's a chance to kick your feet up and think happy thoughts about the work yet to come. Usually, in the writing process, I use this period to think about other projects while I let my ideas simmer. Eventually, I'll ease my brain back on to the subject and it'll usually smell delicious and almost ready to eat. Then I know I'm ready to write.

But more importantly, its just a chance to let your brain lie fallow for a few days. You can visit people, see movies, share a laugh or two, and not constantly be thinking of some project in the back of your mind.

So, no sermon news today. Just me and the latest DVD of MI-5 from Netflix to occupy my cavernous and breezy mind. Good times... good times!

The Sermon Pt. 2

When I write a novel, I find that I know the story and all the events that go into it long before I really hear the voice of the main character. Sometimes I can go three quarters of the way through the story before finding that voice. And then, of course, I have to go back and rewrite everything. I'm expecting this to be much the same.

There is a certain voice that needs to be heard in this sermon. Its not my voice. Its not your voice. Its God's voice. When it comes down to it, my journey is about finding God and I must make it clear that it was God that was leading me the entire time (not that I was smart enough to always follow him - NO, WILL, YOUR OTHER LEFT! ;) I have now written the opening paragraph of my sermon about 100 times in my head in four days. None of these paragraphs worked. They were all well written. Any one of them could have been the beginning to my story. None of them, however, had the right voice. Indeed, the hardest part to writing anything is finding the right voice. But when its a novel, I'm just looking for a certain point of view, a certain manner of narration, that matches the story I'm writing. In a sermon, I'm looking for something infinitely more wonderful.

Hearing that voice is never easy. Can you imagine the author that was given the task to write something in the Bible? I mean Paul had it easy. He was just writing a letter to another church. That the letters turned out well can be seen in the fact that they're in the Bible. Can you imagine if someone were to approach you and say, "I need five pages that we're going to put in the Bible." I'm sorry, but that's just a little pressure there. Yet, whether its five pages for the Bible, a letter to the early church, or a ten minute sermon, the voice is always going to be the same. The hard part then is not the writing, but the listening.

God has a tendency of dropping subtle hints to me (probably because anything more abrupt would fry my precious neurons). I've at least finally learned to keep an open mind that things that don't make sense, or thoughts that seem bizarre to me, probably have a deeper meaning that I haven't yet considered. I store these thoughts and observations in the back of my mind, much the same way that plot threads and bits of character dialog tend to collect back there. The back of my mind is the attic of my brain. Eventually God will drop the big bombshell on me and suddenly, like a fresh ray of light into a darkened tomb, all of those little pieces that I've been storing back there will be illuminated and I'll finally figure out some new little piece of the puzzle.

So God has been challenging me lately with trying to come to terms with Jesus's divinity. And then I started having thoughts about how I was getting tired of reading all of those "notes" at the bottom of my Training Bible and was ready to just enjoy the Word without the expert commentary. And then a while later I thought that perhaps I'd finally reached a point where I was sick of "learning" about the Bible and that maybe I was ready to experience it. Then I had a vision of me walking in Kenya, which led me to realize that I was going to Kenya, which started to galvanize all these pieces together (I'm a lot slow on the uptake) which finally led to this invitation to deliver a sermon... and like the Get Behind Me Satan, Peter, I still stood there with a blank expression on my face and a look of incomprehension - "Who? Me?" until God finally delivered the message all non-challant like, "Maybe you could, I don't know, talk about your journey or something... wink... wink... wink!"

BOOYA! OH, NOW I GET IT!

I'm in good company when it comes to spiritual smarts. I figure St. Peter and I are definitely going to get some fishing done whenever I join them in Heaven (catch and release, of course ;) We'll probably drink a beer or two and talk about our love of the stooges. Of course, I'll be talking about the film stars, he'll be talking about the other apostles ;)

Anyway, I'm a little slow on hearing God's voice, but I've at least learned to be patient. He'll continue to drop pieces in my lap and let me sort through them at my own pace and eventually I should be able to do a reasonable facsimile of God's voice in my sermon. And then, when I deliver it, there will probably be a spiritual brother or sister out there who might hear it and have a tiny little thought implanted in the back of their brain, or even, God-willing, a big BOOYA moment of their own.

In the meantime, ears open, brain clear (as if that's hard) and I'm off to trying to hear God's word for me.

The Sermon Part One

Last Thursday, my Pastor took me aside and asked me if I'd be willing to do the sermon on June 14th. Now, normally, at this point I'd probably say something like, "Sure." After all, I'm asked all the time to read scripture or sing or play bells or help set up chairs or make coffee or deliver a message or run an ice cream social - tons of things. And, beyond that, I've been writing steadily since second grade. So no big deal. No sweat. I'll just whip that puppy out and... I just stood there, my eyes bugging out, my head breaking into a sweat, and a nervous laugh escaping from my mouth. ME? Seriously? A sermon? What the heck would I say? What the heck would anyone want to hear from me?

"We've noticed that you've had quite a journey the last year and we thought you might want to share it."

Hmmm... well... there's that. I mean, in the last twelve months I've been to Reno on a business trip, Alaska on vacation, Mississippi on a mission trip, and Idaho on a fishing trip. I've written, produced, edited, and premiered a film. I've stopped being a youth leader. I've served my final year as a stat man for basketball. I've finished my second go around with school. Um... pretty par for the course for me, but to others, it might seem like quite a bit of living in 12 months.

Still, what would I say about those things? A laundry list of deeds is one thing, meaning behind that list are another. I told my Pastor that I'd think about it and then I went home.

By the time I'd gotten home, I was filled with this giddy sense of adventure. God was calling me to write a sermon knowing darn well the sorts of things I like to say! It was like proof that not only did God exist but that deep down at heart, He was a geek just like me! I immediately began to brainstorm ideas.

Songs popped into my head first, as they always do when I'm thinking of God. I have a tendency of thinking in terms of cultural references - movies, books, songs - and when it comes to religion, I will just burst into song, "Great is the Lord!" or "Holy, Holy, Holy!" or "Jesus is the rock and he rolls my blues away!" (Okay, maybe not that last one ;) I know some people experience music as this holy devout way to connect to God and therefore they have very strong opinions about the kinds of music that should be played in church. I experience music the same way today that I experienced it as a kid - COOL! I'm sorry. I just love to sing. Any song. Anywhere. If it gets caught on my tongue, its going to get sung! And since most of the songs that I know off the top of my head happen to be Christian songs, that's mostly what I sing on a daily basis.

So, my first thought was to do a sing-a-long sermon. I'd make a point and illustrate it with song, getting the entire congregation to sing along with me on these tunes that we all know and love - like a campfire sing-a-long. I'd like to say that I quickly nixed this idea but I still think it holds a certain amount of fascination for me.

My second thought was that my journey was some sort of epic adventure leading me ever onward in a quest to find Jesus. Closer to the truth, perhaps, without quite so much epicicity. I imagined breaking out my bullwhip and entering the church to the sweeping refrains of the Raiders of the Lost Ark theme song. If Adventure has a Christian name, it must be Yahweh! Williana Robison and the Christian Path! Now playing!

The various ideas tickled me and I had a big smile on my face for a good twenty four hours. Finally, I decided that clearly something that made me this happy could be nothing other than heaven sent - a well received command from God. Despite the fact that I still don't have a clue what to say or what anyone would want to hear from me, I have gone ahead and agreed to do the sermon on June 14th.

Tomorrow, I'll discuss scripture, as my ever expanding quest for a decent sermon continues.

Beach Blanket Pacifica

Ever since a certain Beach closed up shop for a technological time out, strange things have been happening - unnatural things. First, Manny Ramirez gets caught for drugs and gets a 50 game suspension. (How do you even manage that in this day and age? That'd be like a Credit Card company going bankrupt because it forgot to raise its rates...) Second, a new Star Trek comes out and completely alters the entire Star Trek universe - a universe that has survived everything from conquest by Twitter fiends (or as we fans like to call them - The Borg) to a dearth of whales. Yet, hand the reigns over to the disciples of Rimbaldi and wham bam thank you bad robot, everything is changed lickety-split. And third, LOST manages to implode and explode my brain at exactly the same moment causing me to see white where there was once only black.

Is it just me, or does the Universe need to have its balance restored? Is it my destiny to get Andy to start blogging again? Do I need to travel back in time and blow him up before he starts twittering thus preventing this whole need to take time off from blogging in the first place? I don't know... but I wrote down the answer in a journal and I'm going to consult that right now...

Wolverine vs. Watchmen

You probably already know what I'm going to say about this... and you'd be wrong. Watchmen is the single greatest comic book series in history - in fact, its one of the single greatest works of fiction of the last 100 years. Wolverine is a great comic book character, but the writers of this particular movie, will be lucky to not be nominated for a Razzie. And yet... and yet...

When I saw Watchmen earlier this year it was naturally with a bit of curiosity. How had they translated one of the greatest stories ever told into the movie? A dense multilayered look at the psychology and need for superheroes and supervillains in our society and what, realistically, might have happened had they ever been real - did not translate well onto the big screen. Changes that were made to shorten the complex narrative didn't work, and as they related to the end of the film, that meant that the end of the film didn't work. And the Ultimate truth of film is that you can't have a film without an ending. I didn't hate Watchmen, but I did feel that the exercise of making it had been in vain.

Wolverine, on the other hand, has been kicked and dragged through the mud by pundits and fans alike. Essentially an origin story for our favorite adamantium clawed mutant, Wolverine delves into his past and tells his story. There are flourishes and gusto and battles and soap operaish moments and, overall, Wolverine as a film is like a comic book. And, as such, I actually dug it.

There were moments in Wolverine that didn't make any sort of film sense - like the part where Wolvie and a recently introduced hero fight (ostensibly because of a misunderstanding over who Wolvie was working for). If this had been a film, I would have pulled out my hair and said, "That doesn't make any sense!" But as a long time reader of comics, it made perfect COMIC sense. Heroes fight each other all the time. Nobody gets hurt because really the writers and artists just want to see what would happen if Spiderman and Captain America took each other on, for instance. Things like this would be excised out of a good movie script. But not in Wolverine. One gets the impression that the writers of this flick not only understand comic book writing, but embraced it for this film. The scenes, as written, convey that feeling of the panel and the dialog bubbles and even the dramatic lighting and posing. There's not a single frame of this movie that you couldn't snip out and paste directly into a comic book.

So, really, for a change you could skip the film and just read the comic book adaption and get the same thing. And yet, here again is one of the reasons I dug Wolverine. No comic book would have ever told such a straight forward origin story for Wolverine. This was like someone taking and editing five years of comics into a single coherent storyline and selling it for the same 99 cents as any other issue. When I was a kid reading comics and imagining the great movies that could be made from them, this was more in line with my thinking. I wasn't thinking, let's make an artistic masterpiece like last year's Dark Knight, I was thinking, "Let's take this comic book that I'm reading and make it bigger, longer, and more complete." That's exactly what Wolverine is... a bigger, longer, and more complete comic movie.

And the winner is... Wolverine... almost.

I have to knock them for one of the all time worst endings ever! Not the ending you see in real time, but the ending they tack on to the end of film after the credits roll (I understand there are two different versions, but the one I saw was bad enough for both of them). Last summer, Marvel Films made a great move by tacking on extra endings to Iron Man and The Incredible Hulk. These endings were there to introduce the idea of SHIELD and the AVENGERS. Great ideas and well executed. In Wolverine's ending, we see our hero (sans memory) in a bar in Japan. The waitress asks Wolvie if he's drinking to forget and he replies, "No... I'm drinking to remember." Huh? WTF?! That was the whole scene. Not only did it not make any freaking sense, there wasn't any damn reason to wait through all the credits for it. It added NOTHING! NOTHING, DAMN IT! So, Wolverine loses a point for having the worst ten seconds of film in history and then tacking it on to a place of geek film honor - after the credits - so that all of the character's die hard fans can be fully exposed to it. Someone needs to go back to editing school.

In the end, I'll have to give them a tie. Niether film will I watch again. Neither film will I buy on DVD. But I mostly enjoyed the experience of both films. I just enjoyed Wolverine a lot more... until the very end.