U2

Mysterious Ways

Jim Farmer — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 21:40:08 -0700

Johnny take a dive with your sister in the rain

Let her talk about the things you can’t explain

To touch is to heal

To hurt is to steal

If you want to kiss the sky

Better learn how to kneel

- U2’s “Mysterious Ways”

A couple Sundays ago, I was walking into the 9 am service at my church (I typically think of the 9 am service as the “grown up” service, because the people that go to that service no longer care about sleeping in. Since I’ve turned 30, I’ve become “those people”. I’m also contemplating taking a bus to work periodically. I think this is my mid-life crisis.), minding my own business, saying hi to some friends, and looking forward to being just another “seat filler” for the service. (I spent my time doing some ministry work earlier this summer, I was ready to just sit back and hear about God! Cut a 30-year old some slack, okay?)

Anyway, no sooner did I take two steps in the building when I felt a tap on my shoulder. The tap was from one of the pastors at my church.

Pastor: Hey Jim, morning! Me: Oh, hey pastor! How’s it going?

Pastor: Great! Hey, by the way today’s service is going to be a healing service and we need people to pray and heal people during the response time. Can you come up and help heal people?

(Please note, he is asking me this in the same tone one would use to ask a friend to grab an extra napkin from the condiments station at McDonald’s.)

Me: Oh, yeah, sure, no problem!

(Please note, I am responding in the same tone one would use to tell said friend that it certainly would not be a problem to grab an extra napkin for them.)

Healing services are not regular occurrences at my church, and I was caught quite off guard. I’m also a man of my word and knew that I’d be up at the end of the service praying for healing whether I was comfortable with it or not.

I’m going to go ahead and pause here for a second. This is the point in the story where my non-Christian & hipster-Christian readers are rolling their eyes and thinking ‘wow, I didn’t know that Jim was that hardcore/crazy!’ By the way, if you’re not sure if you are a hipster Christian, look down and see if you are wearing a V-neck T-shirt. If there is definite V, you’re a hipster Christian. Bonus points if you created a V-neck T-shirt out of a standard old boring round T-shirt (many thanks to Stuff Christians Like author Jon Acuff for the tip!). Anyway, for those readers that have just written me off as nuts, I understand. I went through the same roller coaster of emotions as I sat down and the service began.

Unfortunately, cheesy, greedy televangelists and charlatans have done a great job in skewing the way we see “healing” in the church. When I think of healing services, I instantly think of a southern, sweaty pastor wearing an atrocious shiny suit (definitely no V-neck T-shirts in his wardrobe!). He calls the crippled out of of the audience, places his hand on their forehead, shakes them violently and ‘voila!’ they are healed. Of course, don’t forget to send your money in to the address at the bottom of the screen, so you, too, can be healed! I’d wager a bet that you think of the exact same image.

The thing is, I DO believe in a God of miracles. I believe in a God that parted the Red Sea, that rescued His chosen people from Egypt. I believe in a God that allowed young David to slay the giant Goliath. I believe Jesus was born of a virgin, turned water into wine, fed a crowd with a loaf of bread, and walked on water. I believe Jesus died on a cross, with the weight of an entire world’s sin on his shoulders, and was resurrected from the grave. I believe this ultimate miracle happened because God loves us so deeply and justly He needed an epic sacrifice so we could be restored to him. I believe this God created the world, and even time itself. So why is it so difficult for me to believe the same God can heal someone’s bad back, or anxiety, or even cancer?

The sad truth is, I’ve allowed sinful, fallen people shape my perception of who God is and the miracles He works. The scary truth is, I’ve also been the person who has ruined other’s understanding of who God is. How many times have I destroyed someone’s perception of who God is because my actions, thoughts, and deeds aren’t true to the true character of God?

So, during the response time I went up and I prayed for people. I was nervous, I felt a bit uncomfortable, but I also could sense God’s presence. And his presence gives me boldness. So I prayed. I prayed over a hurt back, and a busted knee. And I honestly do not know if God chose to heal those people in that moment or not.

But, I do know this - during the course of that service, I was healed from the damage inflicted by those sweaty, charlatan televangelists. I gained a new understanding and appreciation of the power and mystery of my God, and will be forever changed because of it.

Sounds like a miracle to me.

Memorial Day for the Disappeared

Craig Detweiler — Fri, 28 May 2010 01:22:25 -0700

Memorial Day weekend offers an opportunity to honor fallen soldiers, those who fought on our behalf. But what about those who’ve been caught in undeclared wars, who were never officially in battle, but perished nonetheless? How might we properly remember civilians caught in political crossfire?

I was in Buenos Aires this week for Pepperdine University's new faculty conference. The most moving moment in my Argentine experience occurred on a Thursday afternoon. The Mothers of the Disappeared have been gathering at the Plaza de Mayo for over thirty years. Each Thursday at 3:30pm, they march behind a banner to demand justice, to seek answers, still longing to know what happened to their children. Closure remains elusive.

Their sons and daughters were arrested, tortured and murdered by government agents during the “Dirty War” that haunted Argentina from 1976 to 1983. During the tumultuous 1960s and 70s, leftist/communist forces resorted to kidnappings, bombings, and assassinations to destabilize the Argentine military regime. The government adopted equally harsh and illegal activities to stamp out the subversives. Students, intellectuals and others suspected of leftist leanings were arrested and ‘disappeared’ following police interrogation. Human rights organized estimate between 10,000 and 30,000 Argentines disappeared during the Dirty War.

Grieving and irate mothers of the disappeared slowly found each other. They banded together in solidarity to pressure the government for answers and apologies. Some wanted major changes in government policy. Others simply wanted their remains of their missing children returned for a proper burial.

Musicians committed to social change have celebrated the mothers in song. Way back on 1987’s Joshua Tree, U2 lifted up the “Mothers of the Disappeared.” (Check out a concert version here). Folk singers like Holly Near and Joan Baez offered a cry for los desaparecidos. Sting sang, “They Dance Alone” way back in 1988.

Perhaps so much international attention was bound to result in competition, jealousy and backbiting. With donations pouring in, The Mothers eventually split into two factions, one highly organized and militant, the other slightly beleaguered and weary. The Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo call for sweeping social change. They have formed a wealthy and robust political action group that has spawned publications, websites and even a university.

The Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo—Founding Line focus upon recovering the remains of the children. They still want to bring former government officials to justice. Yet, the Founding Line engage in silent protest. How poignant to see them holding faded photos of their sons and daughters after so many years.

As they circled the center of the plaza, it felt like an extended wake. Worn down by so much grief and so few answers, they march as a living vigil, a way to remind us all of innocent people caught in an ideological war.

In marked contrast to the Founding Line, the other Mothers let their voices be heard. They arrived in a sleek van, covered with their iconic scarf symbol. As they entered the plaza, the crowd parted in a moment of collective respect and awe. Their fiery leader, Hebe de Bonafini, led the procession. As they ringed the same circle, these madres thrust their fists in the air. They crowd who followed them clapped in unison, shouting in Spanish. They called the government, “Cowards!”, asking them to acknowledge “The Plaza belongs to the mothers.” What vibrancy in their step and fire in the eyes.

Several Argentines told me they thought the madres had too much power. Charges of corruption have dogged de Bonafini’s organization. Evidently, she applauded the terrorists acts of 9/11 and defamed the Pope. Given my relative ignorance regarding Argentine politics, I will refrain from judging either faction. The marches of both groups brought tears to my eyes.

I was struck by how much moral force accompanied their protest thirty years on. They continue to fight, undoubtedly until death. They’re more like ‘Grandmothers of the Disappeared’, a vivid reminder of how much power the elderly can possess.

U2 and the Unfashionable Cross...

Richard Dahlstrom — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 10:58:20 -0700

It seems like everyone I know has been to, or is going to, hear u2 live in October. They're out on the west coast, doing a tour and so Christians between 20 and 40 are making the pilgrimage. Before I continue, I'll offer the caveat that I love u2. I just returned from running stairs and Bono was my companion because, after the 10th set of sprints it's true: I still haven't found what I'm looking for. Their music, lyrics, and leverging of fame for social good are all inspiring and exemplery. Still....

My concern resides in our age old tendency to reshape the gospel so that it matches our own personal ideals and passions. Right now social justice is fashionable. There's good reason for this, and it's a welcome swing of the pendulum from the old days, when missionaries would (at least according to missiological legend) hand out tape recorders, the Bible on tape, and tracts, before handing out food, "just in case someone perishes without knowing Christ." We've come a long way from that, but just as that was fashionable then, wells in Africa are fashionable now.

The risk we run, with any fashionable expression of the gospel, isn't that it becomes entirely untrue, but that it becomes a distortion. We might, for example, consider ourselves exemplary Christians because we have joined the One campaign, sponsor a child with World Vision, and skip lattes on Fridays, giving the money to economic development work in Africa instead. It's all cool, all popular, and has every risk of being cross-less, both in the sense that Jesus is moved from the center to the margins, AND in the sense that we've no practical expressions of self-denial. I'll explain both:

1. Jesus moved to the margins simply means that we take St. Francis word literally, to a fault. He's the guy who said, "preach always, use words only when necessary". I always want to add a third phrase to his timely remarks: "...and words will usually be necessary". This is because everything we do, we do supposedly as a means of heralding the arrival of a soon to come new government, with the new reign of a new king. How strange would it be to bring the ethics of the new king, and the blessings, but conspicuously, even intentionally ignore the CENTRALITY of that King's presence as the source of all hope. And yet this seems to happen all the time in the new and fashionable social gospel.

2. The cross lacking IN us means that we're running the risk of defining the outworking of the gospel in terms of things we'd do anyway. "Sure, I'll sponsor a child, buy fair trade coffee..." While that's great, and fits in well with U2's theology, what's missing is the reality that Jesus will also ask of each of us, in specific ways, acts of self-denial. Maybe our sexual ethic will need to change. Maybe he'll ask us to not just write a check, but move to Africa, or the inner-city, or South Dakota, and His calling doesn't align with our passions. Jesus said it pretty clearly: "unless you deny yourself and take up YOUR cross and follow, you can't be my disciple"

We like to talk about passion, justice, culture, relevance. It's the stuff, not only of Christian magazines and web-sites, but of billion dollar bands. But the cross? Other than the one's hanging around our necks, I fear it's fallen on hard times, both as a central message, and as an existential necessity for we who claim to be disciples.

That's all... except to say that Joshua Tree is still my favorite.

PRIVATE VS. PUBLIC FAITH

Craig Detweiler — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 23:18:53 -0700

Here at Conversant, we explore how faith connects to everyday life. But what happens when our personal beliefs crossover to the public square? Jesus warned us not to display our faith for others’ affirmation or praise. So should faith remain a private matter? Jesus also took his teachings into the public arena, from the Sermon on the Mount to the marketplaces of his ancient Judea. We must examine our motives, examining why we air our faith.

Perhaps the question should be, “Can we discuss our values with those we disagree with in a civil way?” At Conversant, we hold a public conversation about our personal beliefs. We must be free to our convictions without fear. Yet, we must do so in a humble and respectful manner—as active listeners.

On a recent tour of Australia, my friend, Geoff Broughton, introduced me to the Center for Public Christianity. We crossed over the dramatic bridge to north Sydney for an afternoon of conversation at the nexus of faith and culture. I was pleased to meet like-minded colleagues Greg Clarke, Simon Smart, and Hugh Clark. They interviewed me during a memorable afternoon. They’ve produced a podcast and a videoblog from our conversations that you can find on Vimeo here.

The Centre for Public Christianity is exploring life’s most enduring questions in a smart, media savvy way. Dr. Greg Clarke will actually be coming to America this fall, to present a talk on how Bono and Nick Cave perceive Jesus. U2: the Hype and the Feedback will take place on October 2-4 in North Carolina. Check out the intriguing schedule of speakers here.

Life, Love, and Chipotle Burritos

Jim Farmer — Fri, 08 May 2009 22:57:38 -0700

"Grace makes beauty out of ugly things." - U2

That is one of my all time favorite lines from one of my all time favorite songs. Truth be told, I'm not the world's biggest U2 fan, but I do enjoy their music. Despite that honest admission of truth, the song "Grace" is one of those few songs that always stops me in my tracks and demands I listen to it in it's entirety. The song has always captured my interest - but my interest in it grew exponentially when my then-wife and I were dreaming about starting a family. In the throws of newlywed bliss, we talked about our future. It was a future that optimistic - we’d own a house, have great friends, work jobs that we loved AND paid well, and start a beautiful family. That family, we discussed, would include a daughter. And maybe, just maybe, we'd name her Grace.

Grace was a beautiful name, and it resonated with me immediately. In a Scrubs-inspired "daydream moment" (admit it, you have them too), I imagined the photo montage of our baby daughter we'd create and send to our family. With U2's "Grace" playing in the background, we'd highlight a series of photos of our journey through pregnancy, the birth of our daughter, and of course those precious first few days photos. At the end of the slideshow, the photos would fade to black and the birth announcement would appear - "Welcome Grace to the world".

This newlywed dream remained just that. After three short years, our marriage fell apart. Two very long years later, our divorce was finalized. There would be no perfect family, no happily ever after. Just lots and lots of ugly things. God must be a U2 fan though, because grace certainly was birthed out of those ugly things.

So with that, I should probably say hello. This is my first blog post - ever - and I’m super excited about joining the Conversant family. I’m joining so I can share my story - it’s a story of two young Christians who married young and divorced young. I’m sharing this story because I know I’m not the only one. (Statistics say the divorce rate in the church is identical to the divorce out of the church.) I’m sharing this story because I know there are others out there who’ve been where I’ve been. I’m sharing this story because God shines through it from beginning to end.

I’m also here on Conversant because my story doesn’t end with my divorce, it begins there. Life moves on, friendships are made, adulthood perpetually looms, dates occur, and through it all - God’s grace shines through. I look forward to you joining my journey.

And just so you don’t think every blog post will be emotionally heavy, I want you to know we’ll talk about other things here, too. We’ll talk about the joys and dangers of having your parents on Facebook (hi mom), my fan boy excitement for the 2009 Summer Movie season, Lost, Chipotle burritos, working for a 5 foot tall Mouse, and anything else interesting I stumble upon/interact with/find meaning in. And if you think I can’t find meaning in Chipotle burritos, well, you’re in for a surprise!

What are we fighting for?

Kristin Ritzau — Wed, 06 May 2009 23:21:49 -0700

It’s finals week on the campus where I work which can only mean one thing: summer break is 48 hours away. To me it means quiet, rest, and a slower pace, but it also brings with it space for reflection and planning. I’m entering into a reflective mode this week as students wrestle with, “What’s next?” and I find myself asking the same question. One student said yesterday she has been asking people who she sees as “settled” in their careers if this is where they thought they would be when they were in college. She was surprised to find out that for most, life’s journeys took them in directions they could not have even begun to imagine. They love where they are at, but would have never predicted it.

As I thought about it, I began to think of people I know who are “settled” in their careers. This year more than any other I have felt like a “grown-up” as I settle into my career, gained a mortgage, have been married for 4 years and the honeymoon is over (I mean this in the sense of now we know what for better or for worse means and in sickness and in health – even though I still get butterflies when I pick my husband up from work), no one knows what Jem and the Rockers were, and recently I was told that U2 is classic rock. (I’m sorry what?) This was a year when huge decisions were made for our family and I am choosing who I want to be. Of course this comes with job choices, communities joined, and passions to pursue, but life always throws some curve balls in there and I’m learning every week what “pick your battles” means more and more.

As I continue to reflect on people, the healthiest and most joy-filled ones are the women and men who have let their battles and wounds shape them. They have learned from them. They know how to sit and have tea with the opposing side. Their battles never look the same because they continue to learn, plan, contemplate, and grow. And they know when to put their swords down.

The people I know who are the unhappiest and unhealthiest are the ones who have had the same battle plan for decades. They will wage their war at any cost. They come at you with weapons drawn because they have a mission they will not compromise and they do not collaborate or communicate either. This doesn’t always happen overtly all the time. It can be very subtle or even silent. Eventually this person is all by him or herself even though they might be at the top of the hill. When they look down, no one is there, but that’s the thing- they never look down.

As graduation season is upon us and the lazy days of summer roll in, I have to ponder: what am I fighting for? What do I want the hills I die on to be and where do I need to wave a white flag? When life’s sabotages come my way, (which most definitely will be the case) will I examine and approach them with caution or will I kill and destroy and continue on with my mission – whatever that is? As I become more and more of a “grown-up” that likes classic rock and remembers a world without the internet, I hope that life will take me on more adventures; that the ebbs and flows will capture me and I will ride them with grace and dignity and not rally against them. I pray that I will know what to fight for and who to fight with and I deeply feel this for every graduate out there this year. Choose your path wisely, but be even wiser in choosing your response when the path opens up and at times when it grows dark. When strangers meet you on the journey, find out more about them before chasing them away. When a fork presents itself remember that it is one of many and the decision will not kill you. Try to always find a guide and remember you don’t have to face anything alone. Perhaps most importantly, what will you fight for?

U2 Breaks Early Over the Horizon

CJ Casciotta — Fri, 27 Feb 2009 15:04:36 -0800

It feels like Christmas in the music world right now. Radio stations, blogs, myspace pages, newspapers, and magazines are all chomping at the bit preparing for the official arrival of U2’s long awaited new album, No Line on the Horizon. Facebook statuses were a flutter early last week with fan opinions thanks to the full stream made available on U2’s myspace as well as various mp3 leaks…

… and the buzz keeps building.

So how good is No Line on the Horizon? While Rolling Stone gave it a rare impressive five star rating, some fans still say the verdict is out as they consider just how much change they can take from the iconic four piece.

Aided by long time producer, Brian Eno (tack Eno onto any project and it’s bound to sound better), No Line grooves and punches more than Atomic Bomb managing to balance that fine line between preserving an iconic sound and emerging with something fresh. Adam Clayton’s bass lines are distinct, creative, and shine boldly among the other three members. The Edge plays a little with the fact that his once-scoffed-at textural style has become the pop norm copied by countless amateurs and professionals alike. He mimics himself on tracks like “I’ll Go Crazy if I Don’t Go Crazy Tonight” and “Moment of Surrender,” classic throwbacks to the days of Joshua Tree and Achtung Baby. Bono’s vocals are at their rawest, most honest, most powerful level on every emotion-driven track. After all, if any one is in a position to take risks it’s him.

No bigger risk is No Line’s lyrical content and composition. With titles like “Stand Up Comedy” and “Get on Your Boots,” Bono is pushing the envelope of just how much he can get away with as a songwriter whose body of work already includes some of the world’s most instantly recognizable songs. The album references everything from computer key commands to ATM machines in a consistent effort to communicate that love and grace trump anything else this world knows. Bono’s finest moments of growth cut through the ballads, “White as Snow” and “Cedars of Lebanon,” narratives from another time that encompass sorrow, pain, and restlessness and cap off the album with a somber finish.

No Line reaches its high point with an exhilarating transition from its first act to its second. Track 4 on the album is U2’s best pop song since “With or Without You.” “I’ll Go Crazy if I Don’t Go Crazy Tonight” is an instant classic, an explosive celebration of romance and hope and the things that stir our souls up complete with strings, hooks, and groove that will have people turning up their car stereos just a little higher for when they hear it for years to come. With little room to catch your breath afterward, the single everyone was unsure of, “Get on Your Boots” announces itself full blast to usher in act two. Within the context of the entire album, “Get on Your Boots” makes more sense than it did as a single. It’s almost as if U2 knew what they were doing when they chose it.

Undoubtedly, the cat has been left out of the bag way before March 3rd. Most fans have gotten much more than a glimpse of what’s to come. But if you're U2 and you possess something with as much longetivity as No Line on the Horizon in addition to your already timeless library of influence….at this point you probably don’t care all too much.

GRAMMYS: Mama Power!

Craig Detweiler — Mon, 09 Feb 2009 10:54:36 -0800

In an effort to combat audience indifference, the Grammys pulled out a vast array of stunts. Artists threw twists into the most basic songs possible. From Jay-Z riffing on Coldplay’s “Lost” to the USC Marching band backing Radiohead’s “15 Steps,” the Grammys begged for our attention. U2 urged us to “Get On Our Boots,” to dance our troubles away. Memphis natives Al Green and Justin Timberlake rallied for “Let’s Stay Together,” an ironic substitute for a bruised Rihanna allegedly battered by her boyfriend, Chris Brown. A fruity Katy Perry went all Carmen Miranda for her faux outrageous hit, “I Kissed a Girl.” But Katy's desperate bid for attention paled in comparison to a very pregnant M.I.A. channeling Mama Power. The avalanche of performers threatened to overwhelm the original reason for the season: the awards themselves.

The Grammy got a few things right. Radiohead’s “In Rainbows” took best alternative performance. Lil Wayne strode off with most of the major rap categories. And T-Bone Burnett’s creative pairing of Led Zep’s Robert Plant with the belle of bluegrass, Alison Kraus, walked off with Record of the Year and Album of the Year awards. Will any of these exhaustive efforts stem the tide of plunging record sales? Doubtful.

The nostalgic portions of the show failed to generate new insights. Sir Paul McCartney ran through a perfunctory version of the Beatles, “I Saw Her Standing There.” Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline” felt like a victory lap, a gracious “thanks for the memories.” The Four Tops medley failed to generate any chemistry between Ne-Yo, Jamie Foxx, and Smokey Robinson. Too big a reach.

The concessions to Generation Y were not as awful as might have been imagined. Miley Cyrus and Taylor Swift offered a compelling duet looking back when they were, “15.” (Any moment of teen reflection is welcomed, no matter how limited in scope!). I dreaded the thought of Nick Jonas blurting out, “Take it, Stevie” to the esteemed Mr. Wonder. But Stevie seemed genuinely pleased to sing, “Burnin’ Up” with the Jonas Brothers. All four performers surrendered to the spontaneous joy found in Wonder’s timeless hit, “Superstition.”

Three performances went for an emotional appeal. Kid Rock’s efforts to channel gospel music rang hollow. Jennifer Hudson’s earnest rendition of “You Pulled Me Through” served as a stirring tribute to God amidst substantial grief. And Lil Wayne’s tribute to post-Katrina New Orleans surprised audiences expecting him to simply drop his pants. Wayne rose to the occasion, capitalizing on the gravitas of a national stage.

Most memorable moment? Pregnant rapper M.I.A. rocking Staples Center on her due date. She surely made Sri Lanka proud, flashing a bumblebee costume alongside the Rap Pack of Jay Z, Lil Wayne, T.I. and Kanye West. M.I.A. demonstrated that swagger isn’t merely a man’s game. Mamas got skillz, too.

Who made your living room bounce?