You Gotta Love Lewis

"Aslan, Aslan. Dear Aslan," sobbed Lucy. "At last."...

"Welcome child," he said.

"Aslan,", said Lucy, "you're bigger."

"That is because you are older, little one," answered he.

"Not because you are?"

"I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger."

Prince Caspian - C.S. Lewis

Cool Blog

I added a new site to my blog roll, Un-churched In Miami". There's a poll on the site entitled, "Why Have You Stopped Going To Church?".

The blog asks questions about spirituality, community and relevance.

I am an active member of my church*, so I don't fit into the Un-Churched category. But I have expressed repeatedly that, if for whatever reason I fell out of my current faith community, it would be very difficult to find another home church in Miami. I think a lot of people feel this way. I understand the mind of the person who is fed up with the idea of the modern protestant church. Churches with depth are hard to come by in these parts. It seems everyone is too busy embracing relativism, putting on the best AV show in town, being "relevant", or being right.

The object of our worship should be God. Instead, we're too focused on our agendas and keeping our churches full. The object of our affection has been kidnapped and replaced with rhetoric and marketing.

I do like the this blog though; great opportunity for discussion. I hope to see more postings for and from the Un-Churched in Miami.

* - my church is far from perfect; but it's home.

Wa'happen?

It's a story as old as time. Guy says he's going to start an intensive Bible study, guy finds out he's having a son, guy buys a house, guy starts remodeling house, guy's source of income is challenged.

Guy has no time for intensive Bible study.

It's been a crazy start to '08; mostly full of blessings and good things. Still, it was nuts. I'm looking to get back into blogging again in a couple of weeks.

How the hell do all those really cool sounding pastors do it; you know, the ones who tell us how to read the entire Bible in one year, and seem to have their "quiet time" undeterred by life's interuptions? Maybe they're special... hmmm... nah... they're just as full of it as I am, that's all.

But today, a new era begins. A time of deep spirtual reflection and contemplation. A time of personal study of God's word. Daily, I will wake up before the sun rises, pour myself a hot cup of coffee, and sit studiously (and spiritually) at my hardwood desk in my library, in my brown leather executive chair, and begin anew my time of deep spiritual reflection on the Holy scriptures. I will allow God to speak to me, and I will be blessed and at peace.

Oh wait. I forgot. I don't have a library. Or a hardwood desk. And I have a plastic chair on wheels.

The imagery was nice though, wasn't it?

The nice thing is though, imagery aside, God still loves me. I am His son. So, I'll look past the how-to books, the imagery and what everyone thinks spending time with God should be; or look like.

I'll focus instead on the fact that I am His. That's all that matters. He loves me. That's all I need to motivate me. That should be my only motivation.

So I'll endeavor to read my Bible, around 9'ish, a few days a week. God will speak to me; hopefully I'll listen. And when I do, it will be beautiful. And when I don't, he still loves me.

More blogging soon.

Arriving At Brighton...

I just started a new scripture study. One of my Roman-Catholic friends, Robert, published a scripture compilation book a few years ago, and he wants to put it on the Internet. So, he asked me and several other friends and family to share thoughts on his notes and scripture selection.

His work is called "God's Will and the Purpose of Life", which I do believe is quite a grandiose title, but he's Cuban so he can't help it. I know his heart, however, so his motives are not self-aggrandizing at all. He has compiled this as a labor of love to give people a greater understanding of our relationship with God.

So, I might be the only Protestant in his group of critics. One of Robert's pet-peeves is he believes many Protestants are arrogant and judgemental. So, this whole being "right" thing rubs him the wrong way. I can see where he's coming from, sort of. I'm hoping however that through our time of study, we can share each perspective with the other, and grow in our understanding of God and ourselves. God knows I still have way too much to learn.

I hope to share as much as I can on my blog; like an online devotional. Right off the bat, I know my perspective will be different from his; probably completely. But what I'm finding is that the differences are not a result of his being Roman-Catholic. I'm finding already how similar his view of God mirrors that of most protestants, born-agains, evangelicals, etc... even people in my own church. Very interesting.

More to come.

Hee-Hee!

Great post on Babalu Blog by "Gusano"

Caja China? We Don't Need No Stinking Caja China!

At Christmas, Puerto-Ricans do Parrandas, Mexicans do Posadas, and Cubans do Lechon. This means that while Puerto-Ricans and Mexicans have very meaningful and festive Noche Buena celebration, Cubans sit around and eat pig. Not that there's anything wrong with that; it's just that we're more... sedintary, if that's even possible.

Regardless, it's a wonderful time. The Caja China is the name given to the the Cuban pig roasting method. The Caja China is sold online, and I'm not going to knock it here. It is really a well-built, well thought out system of roasting the pig. But, as far back as I remember, Noche Buena at the Palacios house was done old-school. The Caja China was not store bought. Each year, the Caja China is created. In fact, as I write this, my brother-in-law and the master pig roaster (his dad), have already set up the cinder-blocks, heated the coals, and smoked the wood chips, thus starting the roasting of the pig. The mojo has been prepared with the skill of a chemist. The Cuban coffee is intermitently brewed. It's hot outside, but every once in a while a breeze blows through.

This is an all day event involving food, wine, cigars, and great conversation over a 7-8 hour period. The conversation revolves around the economy, who's running for president, and of course, Cuba; nostalgia, anger, passion and laughter over the silliness of it all.

When I was 9, the scenario would have been the same. The same Miami breezes were intermitently felt. the smell of the pig roasting was overwhelming and made my stomach grumble, even though I had been munching on Cuban bread, gingerbread cookies, and mariquitas for most of the day.

The whole day was spent thinking about 3 things. First of course, obsessively thinking about what amazing things Santa was going to leave under the tree. Second, the bliss and utter joy of knowing that for 2 weeks, I would not have to go to school and could spend hours playing with the amazing things that would be left under the tree. Third, that unbelievable pig roasting all day over that heat.

And there was family. Everyone was together. This was not the last thing I thought about. I didn't have to think about it. We were there and we were together. And it was wonderful.

But oh, that pig! That Glorious pig!

Many images have been struck in American culture of families sitting around the table on Thanksgiving or Christmas Day. In these images, we see a dad holding a carving knife in hand, ready to carve a white piece of turkey or goose, as the family sits still, looking on patiently for their delicious piece of that succulent meat. Norman Rockwell paintings captured these moments. They are beautiful and represent something that is timeless and noble, and are a reflection of what America represents to me; Love of God, country and family.

But someone really needs to capture that most important moment on Noche Buena, when the pig is hoisted out of the Caja China, skin crackling and popping. The entire family stands around, like ravenous wolves waiting for a turn at the most treasured part of the pig; the skin. Cubans really need an artist rendering of that moment. The pig-masters standing there wearing gloves, smelling of sweat and cigars. The rest of the family and invited guests looking on dressed in their Christmas best. The gloved hands begin cutting and ripping at the crisp, browned skin. Everyone begins to politely pick at the broken skin, which is still sizzling from the roasting. I can't eat bagged pork rinds. Once you've had them off the back of a freshly "Caja China" roasted pig, no bagged Frito-Lay pork rinds will do. The image of a Cuban family standing around a pig at dusk under palm trees in a Miami backyard. Any artists out there reading this, please accept this as my commission to have you paint this image for me. I would love to hang it next a to a Normal Rockwell in my living room.

The accompanying boiled yuca with mojo, arroz and frijoles.... pa' que hablar.

Well, it's only 11:30 am right now, so I better stop writing about this before I eat my laptop.

I was recently asked why I write this stuff down. I do it for the same reason Rockwell painted images of Americana. Someone has to capture these moments for my children. Historic moments, spontaneous ponderances, random ravings. Whatever they are, good or bad, meaningless or timeless, they only come around once in a while. If you don't write them down, they are easily forgotten.

Have a wonderful Christmas Eve. Make it memorable, and never forget it.

El Pesebre

Christmastime for a Cuban-American boy, whose first language was English and whose family belonged to the whitest denomination in America at the time (the Presbyterian Church in America) was interesting. It was interesting because the church I attended was made up of mostly Cuban families, all equally weird among among our extended family members because we weren't Catholics. Everyone went to church EVERY Sunday. There was choir practice and Bible study EVERY Wednesday. Our church was an amazing example of community built on culture, family and faith.

And yes, faith came last. We weren't the super holy people many of the adults pretended to be. Our church attendance was to be admired; but only by way of the love everyone in the church shared. We really wanted to be together. There was an air of superiority to our Catholic brothers and sisters however, which to this day rubs me wrong. But that was part of growing up Presby-Cuban. We were told we were right and more religious, and that is what defined us. There were some faithful among us, who understood the Gospel, and loved Jesus. Looking back however, the overall message of the church was "We are Cuban, and we are Presbyterian." Somewhere in there, we had some Christians, too.

So every Christmas, our church put on "La Cantata"; the concert event to end all concert events. My mom sang in the choir, and for a while there my dad did, too. They really were well put together (...the Cantatas). I am told our church was the talk among young churches in Miami back in the 70's. So the turn-out to the Cantatas was impressive.

And I'm pretty sure one of the few places to go in Hialeah to see a re-enactment of the manger scene was our church.

So "La Cantata" was always followed by "El Pesebre", the life-size manger scene. Every year, my dad built a manger out of wood. I'd go watch him build it, and hand him a 2'x4' now and then. All it took was a nicely designed wooden shelter, some hay and farm animals and you had true-to-life Bethlehem manger off of Okeechobee Road.

Thinking back, it was poetic. That area of Hialeah wasn't the best. There were a lot of seedy hotels, bars and other houses of ill-repute in the area. It was a perfect representation of the kind of people Jesus came to eat with, laugh with, live with and save. Though I don't think too many of us were thinking about that back then.

At least I wasn't. I was more into the live animals, dressing up like a shephard, and hanging out outside, thus avoiding having to listen to La Cantata (I mean, come on... I was 9 years old. Wait a minute... the tought of sitting through a Cantata NOW makes me ill, too... never mind). The night was clear, and I remember seeing the stars out. It was a great night under a Hialeah sky.

Then it happened. One of the animals, a goat, decided to bolt.

One of our wisemen, named "Ito", decided it was his job to bring back the errant goat, so he bolted too. And I'm willing to bet that this was the only time in all of Hialeah history, when a wiseman from the East was seen running across la 12 Avenida con Okeechobee, in full wise man garb, after a goat.

Ito finally caught his goat.

And while parts of this story may have been embelished, and the actual year might be off, Ito did chase a goat down the streets of Hialeah, and I was there to see the return of the goat. And Ito and the goat made that Christmas one of the most memorable ever.

El Cho de Elsa y Raquel

I asked my dad to send pictures of Christmas past. This is what he sent me. Not exactly what I was looking for, but it did bring back some memories.

Growing up Cuban-American in the 1970's, TV was not the wonder-box of variety it is today. There were very few shows for kids, except for Electric Company, and Gilligan's Island and Brady Bunch re-runs. After that, you were pretty much on your own to make things happen. We didn't venture out in the neighborhood too often. A riot had broken out at Riviera Middle School one year. The riot was between Americans and Cubans. I've been told that riot police were called in. That may have been part of the reason why we didn't go out much. Or maybe it was just that we liked being at home; I don't know. Either way, being home a lot forced us to find ways to entertain ourselves.

My sisters were the creative minds. All they needed was some of the extra Goodwill clothes donated to us which was not fit to wear, now to be used for costumes, a few wigs (don't ask), some make-up and an impromptu script. The result?

El Cho de Elsa y Raquel.

"Cho" of course, is the word "show" spoken with a Cuban accent. We knew how to pronounce it correctly, but some words in English sound better with an accent, especially when used with other Spanish words.

My sisters put on a lot of shows over the years. Some were actually recorded on cassette tape, like the 'novelas' my grandmother would listen to.

What you see in the photograph here, is me dressed up as Santa (not sure why), playing a snare drum like a bongo (not sure why) for a "Cho" we put on one Christmas. I remember that day because this was one of our biggest Chos. Both sets of grandparents attended, as well as my parents.

I remember it because it was fun. That's pretty much it. We put on the show in my sister's room. The curtain was the closet door. The stage was set in front of the bed. And somehow, in this little 10'x10' room, we fit the actors and the audience, and had a wonderful time. I remember everyone laughing. My Santa belly was down by my crotch, so I looked like I had "enlarged testicle syndrome" (reference to the film Johnny Dangerously... not an actual ailment). I think that's what made everyone laugh the most. My sisters sang some songs and put on a great show. It was a perfect night.

More Christmas memories to come. By the way, my father clarified something for me from my last post. It was not a donkey running down the streets of Hialeah. It was actually a goat.

The List, 1979

As a kid growing up in Miami, right about this time I was thinking about 1 thing. The Christmas list, masked in a letter to Santa all about how good I had been.

The letter was written in English. My dad would tell me about Los Tres Reyes Magos, the three wise men, and how in Cuba, that was the day he would receive gifts. But here in Miami, my parents were living by American traditions.

So every year, I'd pull out the department store catalogs; Jefferson Ward, Sears, The Gold Triangle. I'd leaf through the catalogs, past the tools section, housewares, pause briefly at the women's bras section, and continue on to what mattered most; the toys.

My sisters would sit with me and help me go through the catalog. It was 1979. Elsy was a senior in high school. Raquel was a freshman. I was a fourth-grader with a crazy imagination, fueled by the introduction of "Japanimation".

A few years earlier I was introduced to Godzilla movies. Godzilla was my introduction to bigger than life monsters, entire cities being destroyed, Japanese people, and really bad English dubbing. Around 1979, a crazy 'Battlestar Galactica'-type Japanese cartoon started airing weekday mornings on a local channel. It was dramatic, explosions happened in slow-motion. It was a combination of lasers and ancient Samurai swords... in space.

That same year, Mattell released... THE SHOGUN WARRIORS!!

The Shogun Warriors were the grandfather of The Transformers, Voltron, and the myriad of other 'robo' toys that followed. These babies were almost 2 feet tall! And best of all, they shot things; stars and battle-axes.

Yes, this is what I wanted most in 1979. Specifically, the one pictured here... Dragun (awesome name).

So I made my list for Santa. Sure I put some other toys on the list, but this is what I really wanted. I finished my letter and handed it to my mom. "Yo te lo mando", she'd say. "No te preocupes, que yo te lo mando", assuring me it would be mailed post-haste.

And yes, I was concerned. This list had to get out quick and early in December. Time was precious for our family during Christmastime. Soon, this family would be caught up in the same madness everyone experiences at Christmas. But when your part of a predominantly Cuban, Presbyterian church, busy takes on a whole new meaning at Christmas.

After all, there are Cantatas to be sung, Christmas programs to put together, and donkeys to chase down through the streets of Hialeah in the middle of the night.

Christmas.

Christmastime is here.

I already received my first forwarded email (twice) called "Heritage Lost", a play on the words of Twas The Night Before Christmas, all about how America is Godless, we're taking Jesus out of Christmas... yada, yada, yada...

These conversations seem to permeate the Christmas season these days. It's sad that during such a beautiful time of year, people are reduced to walking around so angry at the world. They create an evil of bitterness and superiority complexes that far exceeds the evil of consumerism, or any Godless behavior Walmart could ever perpetrate on America.

In 1989, CCM artist Michael W. Smith produced what I consider to be the best Christmas album ever produced, entitled, Christmas. My favorite song on the album is Anthem For Christmas. Those of you who know me would think my favorite Christmas song would be written by someone like Rich Mullins, Daniel Amos, or Mike Roe.

The lyrics to this amazing song were actually written by Ms. Gloria Gaither:

In the space of the beginning

Was the living Word of light

When this Word was clearly spoken

All that came to be was right

All creation had a language

Words to say what must be said

All day long the Heavens whispered

Signing words in scarlet red

Some have failed to understand it

So God spoke His final Word

On a silent night in Judah's hills a baby's cry was heard

"Glory!" sang the angel chorus

"Glory!" echoed back the night

Love has come to walk among us

Christ the Lord is born this night!

All creation sing His praises!

Earth and heaven praise His name!

All who live come join the chorus!

Find the words!

His love proclaim!

I hope this Christmas, you are filled with the joy of coming to know the God you have heard of since you were a child; the God who is bigger than anything you ever heard.

I hope this Christmas the story of God becoming man becomes as real to you as the ground you walk on and the air you breath.

I hope this Christmas, you find the words.

A Protestant Cuban at Christmas

Many stories have been written about culture-clash experiences. My story is not unique. When I was growing up, however, I always felt like the round peg in a square hole.

There were 2 times of the year when I felt it most; Christmas and Easter.

Let's start with my mom and dad in Cuba. They weren't Catholics. They went to a Methodist school, got married in a Methodist church by a gringo Methodist pastor. My extended family wasn't Catholic either; they were Episcopalian. I'm not sure what that meant to other Cubans in 1950's Cuba. But I sure as hell know what that meant in 1970's - 1980's Miami.

Freak.

It meant we didn't go to "La Misa del Gallo" on Christmas Eve at midnight. It meant that during Easter, I was the only kid in my school without the ashen cross on my forehead on Ash Wednesday. It meant that I was the only kid eating croquetas and bistec on Good Friday.

It meant that I was the only kid in my school who spent an inordinate amount of time in church (most of my classmates did not attend Catholic Mass on a regular basis. They usually went, as far as I could tell, about 5 times a year).

I was usually dubbed "El Santito" or "Religious", or something sublime like "That kid that goes to church 3 times a week and is a wierdo for it". Things like that.

Being a Protestant-Cuban in a Catholic-Cuban world wasn't easy. Thankfully, I was part of a church where most of my friends were going through the same stuff I was. We were all freaks from different places -- I lived in the Southwest Miami area, others lived in Perrine, a few lived in Hialeah. But we were all dealing with the same challenges.

We also had a lot of fun. We got to experience some things that, maybe, some of our Catholic friends never got to experience.

What follows over this Christmas holiday period is a time of reflection on growing up Protestant-Cuban, especially at Christmas time, in Miami. This is my "A Christmas Story", without Scott Farkas.

What's Bugging Hollywood?

I was surfing the web looking at movie previews. It seems that once again, Christianity has raised the ire of Hollywood, and the film-makers are making it known.

I didn't have to look far either. On one website alone, in less than 10 minutes, I found 2 films with insane looking, or flamboyant "men of the cloth" representations, and 1 documentary, called Protagonist, a documentary about extremism, featuring 1 former "ex-gay minister" (by the way, the other "extremists" in the film are an ex-criminal, an ex-terrorist, and an ex-martial arts expert), who will obviously be pushing one of the main agendas of the film.

The funny thing is, I wasn't even looking for this. I just clicked on a couple of movies that looked interesting. Some of these films actually seem pretty cool. I want to see Protagonist.

My only question is, why is Hollywood being so hypocritical?

There is a film that came out in 1991 called At Play In The Fields of The Lord. I rented it several years ago, because it looked like an interesting movie, set in the Amazon Jungle, a story about Christian missionaries and their struggles and adventures trying to convert the indigenous people. I had high hopes for the movie; the cast includes John Lithgow, Kathy Bates, Daryll Hannah (who is cool again since she played Elle Driver in Kill Bill), and a few other note-worthy actors. I lost interest when I saw that EVERY "Christian" character in the movie seemed to be completely insane (Kathy Bates loses her mind halfway through the movie after spending the firt half speaking in King James English. I remember one disturbing scene of her naked and covered in mud... yikes), or utterly depraved and completely lost. the only "balanced" folks in the movie seemed to be anyone who wasn't a Christian. This didn't anger me as much as make me laugh. I actually thought, up until that point, that Kathy Bates was a great actress. Obviously, she didn't research the part very well and came up with a caricature she conjured up in her mind of who a Christian missionary wife is. This movie was "Reefer Madness" in reverse.

And this is how I feel every time I see a depiction of a Christian in a movie; or at least a typical Hollywood depiction of a Christian.

Okay Hollywood. I get it. Christians suck. We've done a lot of stupid and pretty bad things. There's The Crusades, bombing abortion clinics, Jimmy Swagart, The Moral Majority, WWJD bracelets... I understand your angst.

But Hollywood, I do have 2 requests.

First, in an age where authenticity rules the day, can you be consistent? If you're going to give us a believable Batman in Batman Begins, and a real James Bond in Casino Royale, can you give us at least a few more Christians who aren't snake-handlers, or unbalanced evangelists? Is there any way you could give us at least one Christian character who doesn't speak King James English and wear a polyester suit?

Second, would you use the same concern you have for our Muslim, Hindi, and Jewish brothers and sisters when you talk about or depict us? Can you please stop being so hypocritical?

Just a thought.

Something's Going To Happen... Something Wonderful.

In 2010: The Year We Make Contact, astronaut Dave Bowman gives this, one of the most memorable quotes for me of any 80's movie. Today, this quote comes to mind as I think of this coming year.

A few posts ago, I raised some questions. I gave a rant. I was frustrated. I was annoyed.

Today, as 2008 approaches, I get a sense of coming to the crest of a roller-coaster. A feeling of the unknown is intensifying. My heart is gripped.

I've been giving an ear to God, and he is speaking quite loudly. He is using words like Grace, but pointing me to others (I've been focusing that word on myself for some time now). He's also speaking justice to me; what that word means. Also charity, dignity, courage, fearlessness. Most importantly, love.

At the crest of the roller coaster, you're paralyzed. Everything stops and all you hear is the wind, and the slowly intensifying screams.

He is speaking other words to me. Pain, discomfort, sacrifice, hurt. But always, he's speaking love.

I'm not a psychic, and Nostradamus was focusing on the wrong issues. What is on the other side of that crest is bigger than the end of the world.

On the other side of that drop, as the screams of anticipation come to an ear-splitting screech and the whole earth seems to be shaking under those rails, you find people.

In 2008, somethings going to happen; something wonderful. God is going to do a work in my life, and in my family's life. It has nothing to do with wealth, a house, a new baby, peace of mind.

God's thrills are found in love; in loving other people. In 2008, God is promising me a new perspective on what is important.

The Answers to the Questions You're Not Asking, But Should Be.

A great post by my friend William.

If I visited South Park...

Dimelo Acere!

Questions

I met with some friends last night. For reasons I can't get into here (my friend's livelihood specifically), the specifics have to remain undisclosed. However, it had to do with church life, and the complete and utter lack of attention modern churches give to being relevant.

It's frustrating because it seems that no matter how much you talk about it, bring it to people's attention, etc... people just keep doing what they do, which usually involves putting on performances for the few church mice who attend because they feel obliged to, or because that's what they do on Sunday.

My friend Frank then sent me a video posted on GODTUBE.COM (that's a whole other story). The video was forwarded to him by his younger brother, who is about 20 years old. The video was a semi-professional production. The theme of the video was one of these "if you don't tell your friends about Jesus, they'll go to hell and it will be all your fault" story-lines. Frank's brother sent him the video clip, and called it a scare tactic. I agree.

I'm wondering...

Why is it so difficult for Christians to stop playing church games? Why are we so disconnected from reality?

Why is it so difficult for Christians to understand the gospel? When did we reduce the Bible to a book of rules and a guideline for living?

Why do we settle for mediocrity? When did we take a backseat and let culture and media lead the charge on what is art; what is beautiful?

Why are Christians not paying attention to the world around us?

Why are Christians so afraid of the world? (i.e. GODTUBE.COM)

What are Christians afraid of? Losing control? Hell? That not everybody thinks like us?

Why are Christians so concerned with growing churches? I thought Christ said to make disciples of men.

And finally, why is church so... well... cheesy; so damn irrelevant?

What the hell is wrong with us?

Are you serious? Are we still having the same old and tired conversations and debates about worship styles and music? Are we still trying to re-invent the wheel (meaning the truth of the gospel)?

I really don't blame people for not wanting to darken the doors of churches.

Must Read Blog

Please check out my friend William's new blog, Wanderings Toward Truth, Beauty and Love.

There you will find deep thoughts, good book suggestions (like a William's Book Club type of thing), and other cool stuff.

"Faith is different from proof; the latter is human, the former is a Gift from God."

- Blaise Pascal-

Luke: I can’t believe it.

Yoda: That is why you fail.

-From 'Star Wars - The Empire Strikes Back'-

Spirit FM, WMCU off the air... a bad thing?

On September 30, 2007, WMCU, aka Spirit FM, signed off the air after 37 years on the air.

Sigh.

I'm not so sure what to make of this. I think Christian radio stations are a wonderful thing. Historically, these radio stations have been instrumental in encouraging, teaching, and ministering to people all over the world. Because of Christian radio stations, people are introduced to inspiring messages and worshipful music. I can remember times when turning on a Christian radio station, at home or away, reminded me of God's love for me, maybe at a moment when I doubted it, or forgot about it.

If I'm honest, I will admit that WMCU had that effect on me throughout my life growing up here in Miami. Were it not for WMCU, I would not have heard Steve Brown. Were it not for WMCU, I would not have heard....

.... well, that's it. Steve Brown.

True, there were times when I heard a "buck up little camper" type message on WMCU to perk me up a bit. But, what exactly did WMCU provide us with, besides a rooster crow at 7:30 am?

WMCU became the focal and central source of information, teaching and spirituality for South Florida Christians. That is a reality, and it is a SCARY reality. WMCU was the source of spiritual food for many South Florida Christians. In other words, if you didn't hear it on WMCU, it wasn't "worthy". Again, in other words, if Chuck Swindoll, Tony Evans, John MacArthur, or the myriad of the other now erstwhile teachers weren't preaching it, then it probably wasn't "kosher" ( I purposely left Steve Brown off that short list because I think most Miami Christians tuned him out. I was probably one of the handful of Christians in Miami who wasn't offended by him. The only reason he was still on the station is probably because he was grandfathered in.)

Whether it was purposely done or not, WMCU became the hat on which many Christians in Miami hung their hats.

Case in point, here are some comments I picked off the stations website from well-meaning people in South Florida, upon hearing the news of WMCU's demise:

"Your station and all who work there have become a daily habit for me. The programs and music you have offered over the years have been edifying to so many and glorifying to our Heavenly Father. This community needs this station!!! "

"I'm sure Satan is rejoicing at the hole he has blown in South Florida."

"This has created a great void in many lives."

So the question is this: Has Christendom as we know it come to an end in South Florida?

Hell no! Satan blows, but he can't blow a hole in South Florida, brothers and sisters! Sure we'll miss having the same songs repeated over a 10-15 year period! Sure, we'll miss having a station trying to sound like secular station, playing music that is trying to sound like secular music! Sure we'll miss... uh... Steve Brown! But look on the bright side:

- 20 years of hearing the song I believe in Jesus by Degarmo and Key, a song recorded in the 80's, as a segue song to 'lead us into the news', are over.

- Once again, Third Day will be okay to listen to, in the knowledge that there is at least one less 65 year old grandmother in Miami, who will no longer be moving her body to the rhythm of their latest song, thinking that her 15 year old granddaughter "just has to hear this".

- John MacArthur is off the air in South Florida.

- The worship leaders in your church are now free to expand there repertoire of worship music outside of Casting Crowns, as part of their regular worship music in your church. They are no longer bound by the ecclesiastical rule of "thou shalt not play music not approved by St. Steve James, or his successor Sister Mary Ann Perdomo. All other music is unworthy, so sayeth the code of the dove".

So, "buck up little camper"! There is life after WMCU. Satan has not given a blow to South Florida, and the fat lady isn't singing yet (Hey! There's another good thing... Sandy Patty's off the air in South Florida, too!).

When something so many people relied upon for their spiritual walk is removed, then we have to know that God has done it for a reason. This is a good reason. God calls us to rely on His word. He gives us instruments, through the media, written word, and the arts to use as an expression of his word, but in the end, he wants us to think for ourselves, and rely on Him alone.

WMCU was one of those instruments. For those who saw it as more than that, give thanks that it is gone. You'll be a better person, and Christian, for it.

Preservation

I wanted to highlight a website all about the town my parents grew up in in Cuba, Santiago de las Vegas. The site has some great old photographs, offering a glimpse, not only of life in the small town, but also on the island.

My father submitted the photograph above. It was taken in 1948, and my dad was about 9 years old. He's the boy on the front row, second in from the left. I just posted it here to bug him.

We need to remember where we came from. It shows us who we are, and helps define where we're going.

You can lead a horse to water...

(On Galatians 4: 12-20) "Paul's forgiveness of the Galatians for their betrayal of him is so automatic that we can hardly notice it. It is only because his appeal to them (as strong as it is) is so affectionate and free from resentment that we realize the strength of Paul's forgiving spirit. Later he cautions the Galatians against a growing spirit of resentment and back-biting (Gal. 5:15). The more they lose touch with the gospel, the more resentments and grudges grow."
-Tim Keller-

I'm learning a lot about my own heart by studying Paul's letter to the Galatians.

Again... I'm learning a lot about MY OWN heart. MY resentment. MY bitterness. My grudges. My anger. MY fears.

Often we read the Bible, or hear a preacher speak, or read the latest and greatest "good advice" book, and apply it to other people. "So-and-So needs to read this." Very few times do we apply the advice being given to ourselves.

Why? It usually hurts to get honest about yourself.

The Bible can lead you to the water. The question is, will you drink? Do you see God speaking to YOU, or do you just see Him speaking through you?


"...the strength of Paul's forgiving spirit."

I'm learning that my heart is wracked with bitterness. This bitterness will not allow me to forgive. Not being able to forgive keeps me bitter about other things; makes me critical of people I don't even know. Forgiveness of what? Anything and everything. Things I don't even think about, until a conversation comes up and I find myself getting defensive, critical, and angered.

Thank God for the reality of knowing my nature. Thank God for showing me that I have not yet "arrived". Thank God for accepting me as I am; an acceptance that gives me no recourse but to respond in praise of Him.