The Planting Life

I’m amazed at my resilience. Really.

But the time has long since past for me to build a new blog. Less talk, more music. And thus, the Planting Life draws to an official close.

I think the main problem I’ve had is that people from the Northampton Vineyard read my blog. And frankly, those people (Christians!) are pretty demanding. Who would have expected it–that my blog would die because my experiences with my peers were so awful.

So my old enterprise dies and I start a new one. This last blogsite, though it was housed on djsybear.com, was really an extension of postmodernmachine.net. PostModernMachine was an idea, long ago. It was to be the virtual home for my experiences and ideas. DJSybear was created to house my music. That’s me–DJ Sybear.

Thus for the past year this site has been annexed so to speak, and now it is officially mothballed. I’m sure many of you have found the carols I posted in its place, which have remained where they are over the past year.

Soon my new site at DJ Sybear will go up. I’ll be posting this year’s mix, which many of you have yet to hear. And it will be strictly a musician site. I may someday build a new PostModernMachine, but I’m not sure when.

In the meantime you can find me on Facebook. And when I’ve got my site finished I’ll be building a Myspace to link to it.

Thanks to those of you who have respected my content. My forgiveness to the rest of you. I’ll c u on the new site.

When I was
A young boy,
My Father
Took me into the city
To see a marching band.

He said, “Son when
You grow up,
Will you be
The savior of the broken
the beaten and the damned?”

He said, “Will you
Defeat them,
Your demons
And all the non-believers,
The plans that they have made?”

Because one day
I’ll leave you,
A phantom
To lead you in the summer,
To join the black parade.”

My Chemical Romance, “Welcome to the Black Parade”,
from The Black Parade

A song most Christians will never hear, sadly. It’s a little backwards. Most of us would have good reason to be wary of such a song. But it’s ironic that a band so obsessed with death could find itself so close to truth.

So my weekend here in Chicagoland has been rather relaxing. We’ve done plenty of shopping, unwrapped a couple presents, had the oligatory holiday dinner. Honey-glazed ham. My parents even wanted to play Yahtzee. What are the odds?

Lately, though, I think I’ve been suffering from the malaise that most Americans suffer from - the uncanny feeling that I have no future. It’s a weird thing to admit. But that feeling has been growing over the past 8 months, and I don’t anticipate that trend changing.

Which leaves me with the typical advice. Either that I’m responsible for making something happen, or that God’s responsible for making something happen. But neither answer is very satisfying, and really, I could care less about advice.

I’m going to go downstairs and get another cup of coffee.

So I ran across a book not too long ago: Making Room for Life by Randy Frazee. It’s a decent book in that it accurately describes a problem, and suggests a possible diagnosis. Funny that I finally got around to reading it three years later.

The book describes the fairly decrepit state of most American lives as a mix of bad geographic, time, and relationship management. Such is the way of things. His approach is to suggest an overhaul in these categories to create (my words) a more consolidated environment.

Now, what Frazee doesn’t tell you is that most poeple won’t succeed at this. He may or may not be aware of that. Anyway, the reason many won’t succeed is because of what I’ll call the hub-spoke-rim principle. But for the same reason, neither would the failures be a loss, either.

The hub-spoke-rim principle is my take on how community functions. Generally speaking, I think the primary catalyst for community is someone who takes initiative with others. One of two things happens as a result of this - either you become the rallying center for the community - a hub (erroneously described in history a “leader”). Or you become the edge of a community, gathering people in who are outside on the periphery - the rim. These new participants, who join the community, form the spokes of the community, and mainly just support the community by being around.

Now, Frazee’s model just suggests initiative, but does not guarantee results. Thus, adopting his model may mean that you become a hub for your own life. As a family unit this can always be true, I think. But the trouble with the model is that not every adopter will consolidate their life in the context of their neighborhood. The beauty is that they don’t have to. They become the rim for someone else’s hub.

In the long run, these distinctions may not matter. People who get more effective at initiating community will get better at spending their time on the rim with no more need for a hub. I think Frazee probably has this in mind. He just doesn’t say so.

Which leaves the obvious question…

In the interim (pun intended), how do I become a hub in my universe? What will you do?

To steal a turn of phrase from Brent, I’m auditioning for friends. In fact, I’m always doing this; people just don’t realize it.

More specifically, I’m auditioning for male friends. Why? Because beyond Keith and (increasingly) Mike, I barely know any men.

What am I looking for? Quite simply, in order of importance:

1. Physical
2. Available
3. Reliable
4. Loyal

I know, it’s an odd list. And it sounds weird putting physical at the top of the list. Most men aren’t very physical, ironically. No handshakes, shoulder pats, hugs, nada. A shame, really.

Apply in person. Resume not required.

So it’s no secret from my earlier posts that I’ve been writing a sermon. Weird business, that. I’ve been tossing around this idea of being a Chrisitan as being a hero. And one of my points involves getting public. Now, this is the hardest point in my sermon, because I think most of what I’ve heard on this issue is (a) not systematic and (b) too specialized to the speaker’s particular choices. So I’ll expand on the idea here, which begins, as I said, with a small little thesis.

Heroes get public. We all could be heroes. So why don’t we figure out how to get public?

Now, most heroes in comic books and TV shows and movies and even real life get public by providing a service. In fact, as I began to think abourt the marketplace, I realized we all get public by providing services.

Services: What We Do

In my mind, there are four noteworthy kinds of services in the market. Every service is some blend of these four categories.

1. Activities or General Services: I do something for you
2. Entertainments: I perform for you
3. Products: I give something to you
4. Relationships or Networks: I relate to you

So if you want to get public, you have to ask yourself two questions. First, you have to ask yourself if you actually want to serve other people or if you’re mostly in it for what you can get from the exchange. Many people serve because of what they can get. This is in no sense heroic. Following Jesus has very little to do with that model. We serve because that is what justice is. We serve because we want to make a difference in our world.

Second, you might as well serve in a way that you’ll enjoy, or soon enough you’ll quit. So ask yourself what balance of these you’d like to be:

• Serviceperson?
• Entertainer?
• Producer?
• Networker?

I am chiefly an entertainer and a serviceman. I moonlight as a networker and a producer only out of necessity. I’m not all that good at either producing or networking, and I try to avoid getting into a heap of trouble for my lack of success in these arenas.

So if I were to rank them, I’d say that I am, in order of preference, an:

1. Entertainer
2. Serviceperson
3. Networker
4. Producer

So what about you? Do you want to serve humanity? And how do you balance these four in your life?

I just have to say - Carlos Mencia is totally cool. ‘Nuff said.

• Work
• Preparing a sermon
• Quibbling over an unfinished sermon
• Preparing (2) worship sets
• Reassessing finances
• Multiple birthdays: Rachel, Brent, Betsy
• Visiting the newborn Ella
• Going to wineries
• Rearranging my ITunes (~12 hours)
• Hiking Mt. Everett/Appalachian Trail

There is little personal politic to be offered in defense of anything I could possibly say here. It’s a good thing I’m prohibited from caring.

Sigh. What an awful disunion I have faced. In fact, what an awful disunion we have all faced. Thanks be to God alone that we are rescued from these bodies of death.

I have of late been in the season of greatest disunion (with God) that I have ever faced in my life. It is, I suppose, ironic that this season came not before but after I became a Christian.

I have been a self-made man.

I have been a man-made man.

I am a God-made man. This, thankfully, is a first and last word over my life, as it is over many of you. It is a statement that speaks to my past, my future, and to the tenor of my present existence.

This could be enough said, but as an extension of goodwill to those I have left baffled by my blatant abstractions, I will offer the parable I have been given.

It’s as though I’ve been living with allergies. Seasons like this plague every Christian, some for longer than others, and I fear for many of us saints. At some point the season ends, and the condition snaps, and whether you’d been taking medication or just roughing it out, the air suddenly clears and you can breathe again.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

The peace of God descends like a fire ten times deeper than a shot of morphine. I know, I was on the stuff a few months ago.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Fear, panic, expectations, accusations, judgments, greed, hatred, all gone in a mellow flash of heavenly warmth.

No more damned sneezing.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

It’s going to go well. I haven’t felt this good in years.

Oops.

What a shame. I’ve just deleted the crappiest season of my blogroll.

Virtuality has never made rewinding the clock on your own life so easy. Now then, back to business.