waiting to exhale...

i have now officially experienced my favorite valentine's day.
i've never really been a fan of the highly overrated 'day of love'... not for the reasons you may assume. my lack of excitement for this day is not because i didn't have anyone to spend it with, nor is it because i just hate getting loads of chocolate... quite the contrary. but this post isn't meant to be about valentine's day so i'll just say this, i hope i show the people in my life that i love them on a consistent enough basis that one universally designated day to show love, blends in with the other 364 days a year. that this day is not an exception but more of the rule.

so back to the story...what made this particular 14th day of february my favorite?
on this very special evening i was fortunate enough to score tickets to the sigur ros show in nashville. i know, i know a bit anti-climatic for most of you reading this, but this night was unlike anything i have ever experienced.

*break for commercial...
if you don't know Sigur Ros . you must. seriously, stop reading this and bounce over to itunes and buy their music. if you're going to purchase an album, start with Ágaetis Byrjun. if you're a little shy or unsure of my musical taste, and you'd prefer to only purchase one song, start with Svefn-g-englar. warning... this particular song is a bit magical and perfect on many occasions, one of which includes stargazing on a crisp, clear night with nothing around but the breath from your lungs and the wind from earth.

speaking of magical...
the music, the ambience, the entire evening felt majesctic and reverant, laced with moments of passion and intensity. from the moment these mysterious icelandic boys stepped on the stage, it felt as if subversively, all who entered the ryman theatre that night were invited to embark on a journey of musical discovery and soul stirring that constantly found us waiting to exhale. it felt as though every note held us captive in a sense anticipation...i love that! their music seems as though it will never resolve... it's up for interpretation...and each listener may take a different journey, somehow we all land safely on the other side. my friend says, 'with sigur ros, you have to have soul to really get it'. wise words.

now by this point, if you're still reading, you are emphatically agreeing with me or you've deducted that i am incredibly melodramatic and need to stop reading so many books and watching so many braveheart-ish movies.
but here's what i think...
there's something to the way i felt that night. there i was in a sea of people, some i knew, most i didn't...in a dimly lit venue, in a strange city. and somewhere between these lyrics, sung in a mysterious language i'll never understand and the brilliance of the eb and flow of the music, space was created for my thoughts and my heart to breathe and land where they may or linger in the unknown...in that space, i felt safe.
for those few hours i wasn't as aware of the heaviness my heart has felt watching my family break over the last few months.
the urgency to figure out where i will lay my head, in a home i can call my own, didn't seem so pressing.
the weight of the dreams and things hoped for in my heart and the uncertainty therein, didn't seem as heavy.
in that moment, as the music played on with no sign of resolve in sight, i realized that sometimes it's the mystery and the unresolve that makes us feel alive. for me when things are formulaic and locked in, i get nervous and i feel lifeless... but when there's hope for things unseen and when there are moments in life i can't navigate on my own, the blood in my vains runs strong and my pulse quickens. signs of life.

yes, my moment with sigur ros was moving and a journey i didn't expect. i left inspired and at peace. truly a moment i will never forget and hope to experience over and over again.

the moral of the story is, 1.) check out sigur ros, it just might change your life. 2.) where there's uncertainty and unresolve in your life and when you feel like you're in a perpetual holding pattern, take a deep breath. enjoy the beauty and life found in the inhalation, for though unresolve is a part of growth and trust, you won't always be waiting to exhale.

be well...
summer

http://www.sigur-ros.co.uk/

Bono Speaks

BONO'S SPEECH AT THE NATIONAL PRAYER BREAKFAST

Thank you.

Mr. President, First Lady, King Abdullah, Other heads of State,
Members of Congress, distinguished guests…
Please join me in praying that I don't say something we'll all regret.
That was for the FCC.

If you're wondering what I'm doing here, at a prayer breakfast, well,
so am I. I'm certainly not here as a man of the cloth, unless that
cloth is leather. It's certainly not because I'm a rock star. Which
leaves one possible explanation: I'm here because I've got a
messianic complex.

Yes, it's true. And for anyone who knows me, it's hardly a revelation.

Well, I'm the first to admit that there's something unnatural…
something unseemly… about rock stars mounting the pulpit and preaching
at presidents, and then disappearing to their villas in the South of
France. Talk about a fish out of water. It was weird enough when
Jesse Helms showed up at a U2 concert… but this is really weird, isn't
it?

You know, one of the things I love about this country is its
separation of church and state. Although I have to say: in inviting
me here, both church and state have been separated from something else
completely: their mind. .

Mr. President, are you sure about this?

It's very humbling and I will try to keep my homily brief. But be
warned—I'm Irish.

I'd like to talk about the laws of man, here in this city where those
laws are written. And I'd like to talk about higher laws. It would
be great to assume that the one serves the other; that the laws of man
serve these higher laws… but of course, they don't always. And I
presume that, in a sense, is why you're here.

I presume the reason for this gathering is that all of us
here—Muslims, Jews, Christians—all are searching our souls for how to
better serve our family, our community, our nation, our God.
I know I am. Searching, I mean. And that, I suppose, is what led me here, too.

Yes, it's odd, having a rock star here—but maybe it's odder for me
than for you. You see, I avoided religious people most of my life.
Maybe it had something to do with having a father who was Protestant
and a mother who was Catholic in a country where the line between the
two was, quite literally, a battle line. Where the line between
church and state was… well, a little blurry, and hard to see.

I remember how my mother would bring us to chapel on Sundays… and my
father used to wait outside. One of the things that I picked up from
my father and my mother was the sense that religion often gets in the
way of God.

For me, at least, it got in the way. Seeing what religious people, in
the name of God, did to my native land… and in this country, seeing
God's second-hand car salesmen on the cable TV channels, offering
indulgences for cash… in fact, all over the world, seeing the
self-righteousness roll down like a mighty stream from certain corners
of the religious establishment…

I must confess, I changed the channel. I wanted my MTV.
Even though I was a believer. Perhaps because I was a believer.
I was cynical… not about God, but about God's politics. (There you are, Jim.)

Then, in 1997, a couple of eccentric, septuagenarian British
Christians went and ruined my shtick—my reproachfulness. They did it
by describing the Millennium, the year 2000, as a Jubilee year, as an
opportunity to cancel the chronic debts of the world's poorest people.
They had the audacity to renew the Lord's call—and were joined by
Pope John Paul II, who, from an Irish half-Catholic's point of view,
may have had a more direct line to the Almighty.

'Jubilee'—why 'Jubilee'?
What was this year of Jubilee, this year of our Lords favor?
I'd always read the Scriptures, even the obscure stuff. There it was
in Leviticus (25:35)…
'If your brother becomes poor,' the Scriptures say, 'and cannot
maintain himself… you shall maintain him… You shall not lend him your
money at interest, not give him your food for profit.'

It is such an important idea, Jubilee, that Jesus begins his ministry
with this. Jesus is a young man, he's met with the rabbis, impressed
everyone, people are talking. The elders say, he's a clever guy, this
Jesus, but he hasn't done much… yet. He hasn't spoken in public
before…

When he does, is first words are from Isaiah: 'The Spirit of the Lord
is upon me,' he says, 'because He has anointed me to preach good news
to the poor.' And Jesus proclaims the year of the Lord's favour, the
year of Jubilee. (Luke 4:18)

What he was really talking about was an era of grace—and we're still in it.

So fast-forward 2,000 years. That same thought, grace, was made
incarnate—in a movement of all kinds of people. It wasn't a bless-me
club… it wasn't a holy huddle. These religious guys were willing to
get out in the streets, get their boots dirty, wave the placards,
follow their convictions with actions… making it really hard for
people like me to keep their distance. It was amazing. I almost
started to like these church people.

But then my cynicism got another helping hand.

It was what Colin Powell, a five-star general, called the greatest
W.M.D. of them all: a tiny little virus called A.I.D.S. And the
religious community, in large part, missed it. The one's that didn't
miss it could only see it as divine retribution for bad behaviour.
Even on children… Even fastest growing group of HIV infections were
married, faithful women.

Aha, there they go again! I thought to myself Judgmentalism is back!

But in truth, I was wrong again. The church was slow but the church
got busy on this the leprosy of our age.

Love was on the move.
Mercy was on the move.
God was on the move.

Moving people of all kinds to work with others they had never met,
never would have cared to meet… Conservative church groups hanging
out with spokesmen for the gay community, all singing off the same
hymn sheet on AIDS… Soccer moms and quarterbacks… hip-hop stars and
country stars… This is what happens when God gets on the move: crazy
stuff happens!

Popes were seen wearing sunglasses!
Jesse Helms was seen with a ghetto blaster!
Crazy stuff. Evidence of the spirit.
It was breathtaking. Literally. It stopped the world in its tracks.

When churches started demonstrating on debt, governments listened—and
acted. When churches starting organising, petitioning, and even—that
most unholy of acts today, God forbid, lobbying… on AIDS and global
health, governments listened—and acted.

I'm here today in all humility to say: you changed minds; you changed
policy; you changed the world.

Look, whatever thoughts you have about God, who He is or if He exists,
most will agree that if there is a God, He has a special place for the
poor. In fact, the poor are where God lives.

Check Judaism. Check Islam. Check pretty much anyone.

I mean, God may well be with us in our mansions on the hill… I hope
so. He may well be with us as in all manner of controversial stuff…
maybe, maybe not… But the one thing we can all agree, all faiths and
ideologies, is that God is with the vulnerable and poor.

God is in the slums, in the cardboard boxes where the poor play house…
God is in the silence of a mother who has infected her child with a
virus that will end both their lives… God is in the cries heard under
the rubble of war… God is in the debris of wasted opportunity and
lives, and God is with us if we are with them. "If you remove the
yolk from your midst, the pointing of the finger and speaking
wickedness, and if you give yourself to the hungry and satisfy the
desire of the afflicted, then your light will rise in darkness and
your gloom with become like midday and the Lord will continually guide
you and satisfy your desire in scorched places"

It's not a coincidence that in the Scriptures, poverty is mentioned
more than 2,100 times. It's not an accident. That's a lot of air
time, 2,100 mentions. [You know, the only time Christ is judgmental
is on the subject of the poor.] 'As you have done it unto the least
of these my brethren, you have done it unto me.' (Matthew 25:40).
As I say, good news to the poor.

Here's some good news for the President. After 9-11 we were told
America would have no time for the World's poor. America would be
taken up with its own problems of safety. And it's true these are
dangerous times, but America has not drawn the blinds and
double-locked the doors.

In fact, you have double aid to Africa. You have tripled funding for
global health. Mr. President, your emergency plan for AIDS relief and
support for the Global Fund—you and Congress—have put 700,000 people
onto life-saving anti-retroviral drugs and provided 8 million bed nets
to protect children from malaria.

Outstanding human achievements. Counterintuitive. Historic. Be
very, very proud.

But here's the bad news. From charity to justice, the good news is yet
to come. There's is much more to do. There's a gigantic chasm
between the scale of the emergency and the scale of the response.

And finally, it's not about charity after all, is it? It's about justice.
Let me repeat that: It's not about charity, it's about justice.
And that's too bad.

Because you're good at charity. Americans, like the Irish, are good
at it. We like to give, and we give a lot, even those who can't
afford it.

But justice is a higher standard. Africa makes a fool of our idea of
justice; it makes a farce of our idea of equality. It mocks our
pieties, it doubts our concern, it questions our commitment.

6,500 Africans are still dying every day of a preventable, treatable
disease, for lack of drugs we can buy at any drug store. This is not
about charity, this is about Justice and Equality.

Because there's no way we can look at what's happening in Africa and,
if we're honest, conclude that deep down, we really accept that
Africans are equal to us. Anywhere else in the world, we wouldn't
accept it. Look at what happened in South East Asia with the Tsunami.
150, 000 lives lost to that misnomer of all misnomers, "mother
nature". In Africa, 150,000 lives are lost every month. A tsunami
every month. And it's a completely avoidable catastrophe.

It's annoying but justice and equality are mates. Aren't they?
Justice always wants to hang out with equality. And equality is a
real pain.

You know, think of those Jewish sheep-herders going to meet the
Pharaoh, mud on their shoes, and the Pharaoh says, "Equal?" A
preposterous idea: rich and poor are equal? And they say, "Yeah,
'equal,' that's what it says here in this book. We're all made in the
image of God."

And eventually the Pharaoh says, "OK, I can accept that. I can accept
the Jews—but not the blacks."
"Not the women. Not the gays. Not the Irish. No way, man."

So on we go with our journey of equality.
On we go in the pursuit of justice.

We hear that call in the ONE Campaign, a growing movement of more than
two million Americans… left and right together… united in the belief
that where you live should no longer determine whether you live.

We hear that call even more powerfully today, as we mourn the loss of
Coretta Scott King—mother of a movement for equality, one that changed
the world but is only just getting started. These issues are as alive
as they ever were; they just change shape and cross the seas.

Preventing the poorest of the poor from selling their products while
we sing the virtues of the free market… that's a justice issue.
Holding children to ransom for the debts of their grandparents… That's
a justice issue. Withholding life-saving medicines out of deference
to the Office of Patents… that's a justice issue.

And while the law is what we say it is, God is not silent on the subject.

That's why I say there's the law of the land… and then there is a
higher standard. There's the law of the land, and we can hire experts
to write them so they benefit us, so the laws say it's OK to protect
our agriculture but it's not OK for African farmers to do the same, to
earn a living?

As the laws of man are written, that's what they say. God will not accept that. Mine won't, at least. Will yours?

[pause]

I close this morning on … very… thin… ice.
This is a dangerous idea I've put on the table: my God vs. your God,
their God vs. our God… vs. no God. It is very easy, in these times,
to see religion as a force for division rather than unity.

And this is a town—Washington—that knows something of division.
But the reason I am here, and the reason I keep coming back to
Washington, is because this is a town that is proving it can come
together on behalf of what the Scriptures call the least of these.

This is not a Republican idea. It is not a Democratic idea. It is
not even, with all due respect, an American idea. Nor it is unique to
any one faith.

Do to others as you would have them do to you.' (Luke 6:30) Jesus says that.

'Righteousness is this: that one should… give away wealth out of love
for Him to the near of kin and the orphans and the needy and the
wayfarer and the beggars and for the emancipation of the captives.'
The Koran says that. (2.177)

Thus sayeth the Lord: 'Bring the homeless poor into the house, when
you see the naked, cover him, then your light will break out like the
dawn and your recovery will speedily spring fourth, then your Lord
will be your rear guard.' The jewish scripture says that. Isaiah 58
again.

That is a powerful incentive: 'The Lord will watch your back.' Sounds
like a good deal to me, right now.

A number of years ago, I met a wise man who changed my life. In
countless ways, large and small, I was always seeking the Lord's
blessing. I was saying, you know, I have a new song, look after it…
I have a family, please look after them… I have this crazy idea…

And this wise man said: stop.
He said, stop asking God to bless what you're doing.
Get involved in what God is doing—because it's already blessed.
Well, God, as I said, is with the poor. That, I believe, is what God is doing.
And that is what He's calling us to do.

I was amazed when I first got to this country and I learned how much
some churchgoers tithe. Up to ten percent of the family budget.
Well, how does that compare the federal budget, the budget for the
entire American family? How much of that goes to the poorest people
in the world? Less than one percent.

Mr. President, Congress, people of faith, people of America:

I want to suggest to you today that you see the flow of effective
foreign assistance as tithing…. Which, to be truly meaningful, will
mean an additional one percent of the federal budget tithed to the
poor. What is one percent? One percent is not merely a number on a balance sheet.

One percent is the girl in Africa who gets to go to school, thanks to
you. One percent is the AIDS patient who gets her medicine, thanks to
you. One percent is the African entrepreneur who can start a small
family business thanks to you. One percent is not redecorating
presidential palaces or money flowing down a rat hole. This one
percent is digging waterholes to provide clean water.

One percent is a new partnership with Africa, not paternalism towards
Africa, where increased assistance flows toward improved governance
and initiatives with proven track records and away from boondoggles
and white elephants of every description.

America gives less than one percent now. Were asking for an extra one
percent to change the world. to transform millions of lives—but not
just that and I say this to the military men now – to transform the
way that they see us.

One percent is national security, enlightened economic self interest,
and a better safer world rolled into one. Sounds to me that in this
town of deals and compromises, one percent is the best bargain around.

These goals—clean water for all; school for every child; medicine for
the afflicted, an end to extreme and senseless poverty—these are not
just any goals; they are the Millennium Development goals, which this
country supports. And they are more than that. They are the
Beatitudes for a Globalised World.

Now, I'm very lucky. I don't have to sit on any budget committees.
And I certainly don't have to sit where you do, Mr. President. I
don't have to make the tough choices.

But I can tell you this:
To give one percent more is right. It's smart. And it's blessed.
There is a continent—Africa—being consumed by flames.
I truly believe that when the history books are written, our age will
be remembered for three things: the war on terror, the digital
revolution, and what we did—or did not to—to put the fire out in
Africa.

History, like God, is watching what we do.
Thank you. Thank you, America, and God bless you all.

in the sun...

REM's MICHAEL STIPE WITH COLDPLAY
IN THE SUN

I picture you in the sun wondering what went wrong
And falling down on your knees asking for sympathy
And being caught in between all you wish for and all you seen
And trying to find anything you can feel that you can believe in

May god’s love be with you
Always
May god’s love be with you

I know I would apologize if I could see your eyes
’cause when you showed me myself I became someone else
But I was caught in between all you wish for and all you need
I picture you fast asleep
A nightmare comes
You can’t keep awake

May god’s love be with you
Always
May god’s love be with you

’cause if I find
If I find my own way
How much will I find
If I find
If I find my own way
How much will I find
You

I don’t know anymore
What it’s for
I’m not even sure
If there is anyone who is in the sun
Will you help me to understand
’cause I been caught in between all I wish for and all I need
Maybe you’re not even sure what it’s for
Any more than me

May god’s love be with you
Always
May god’s love be with you

today i witnessed history...

today i witnessed history...

(the above picture was taken this afternoon on my sprint phone)
on my way to a friends house i looked up in the sky like i do often and out of nowhere i saw this blazing ball of fire, trailled by a glorious spiral of smoke making a bee-line for the top of the sky. 4 seconds later it was gone. it was absolutely awe-inspiring!!

it was the highly publicized and a bit controversial, New Horizons Probe that has now begun it's nine year, that's right NINE YEAR journey to Pluto. that joker is traveling at speeds of over 36,000 mph, nearly 100 times faster than a jetliner!! to put that into context for our small finite minds, that means it would only take the probe 1 minute 32 seconds to get from here (cape canaveral, FL) to New York... dear lord that's insane. and to think that even at those speeds, it will still take 9 years to travel 3 billion miles to reach one planet in our small galaxy. i'll refrain from stating the obvious or making some grand analogy about how big God is etc. i think it speaks for itself...

this may not be fascinating to anyone else, but to me it's moments like these that make life special. and wherever i am on 19 january 2015 at 1:53pm, you'd better believe i'm going to celebrate New Horizon's arrival to the fine, icy planet Pluto. and if you still know me then, you can celebrate with me.

pluto rules!!!
summer

movement...

i've just returned from a heartbreaking film, Tristan & Isolde... thus the gushing of my reeling heart and mind begin...

what are we meant to do with the longings and aches that groan inside of us? with the burning in our bellies that move us? be it love, or noblity, justice or heroism, they may not be the same things that move each of us, but i believe if we were real honest, we would agree that something in all of us is, or has been moved by something or someone in our lifetime. i also believe there is power and purpose in what we choose to do with that movement. how we respond to it or fail to, will ultimately shape the way we live and cause others to live in this life.
too often i find myself trying to wake my soul from this perpetual dream i live in... this romantic, hopeful, dangerous dreaming, that if left to my own doubts, i fear will only leave me wanting more. why do i try to wake myself from this? because it's a treacherous road to tread allowing yourself the luxury of not only dreaming but believing that the dreaming can and will become reality; that the things that move me are attainable and terribly significant. the longer i find myself making my home on this road, the more i have to lose. the more i cultivate hope for things unseen, the deeper it cuts when (not if) hope disappoints.

about four years ago i wrestled severely with my faith, that hope for unseen things. growing up in a home of Christ followers and practically living within the confines of a church, i was inundated and heavily influenced by all things associated with Christianity. i knew a lot about God and had some very real experiences with Him, but it didn't take long for my feelings and my circumstances to speak louder than my knowledge of Him.
during what seemed to be the darkest two years of my life, a friend challenged me saying, "summer, in every situation in your life, you will either choose to believe truth or you'll choose to believe a lie. there is no inbetween. and that choice will govern the way you respond and embrace this life. what do you choose to believe?" as simple and as matter-of-fact as that sounds, it shook something in me. here are my options, i choose to believe that God is who He says He is... that His word is the whole Truth and i can stand by everything it says, or i don't. i choose to trust His character and who He says i am, and fight for the heart He causes to beat in my chest, or i choose not to believe, thus surrendering my will and resigning to let hope and my heart die. i've sobered up to the fact that God does not change based on my level of belief. He does not cease being God simply because i dont' believe He is. what a tragedy that would be for if that were so, i fear He would have died the moment i first sinned.

i know all of this sounds very poetic and reeks of romance and valor... but it's not the stuff 'real life' is made of right? or could it be that all of the longings and yearnings and the inexplainable tenacity of a soul to hope in the midst of hopeless situations, really is what life is made of? that the mysterious perseverence and the trust in something bigger than ourselves that fuels perseverence, are meant to be there; to be the driving force behind all we do?

so what about trust, another very mysterious thing. as of late, trust has been a difficult, nay, impossible concept for me to grasp, let alone put into practice. after all, how do i know if i'm truly trusting someone, be it God or man, when all that consumes my vision, all i can taste in real time, is my heart broken, betrayed and abandoned? i don't feel like i'm trusting. my heart doesn't feel strong and valiant or anywhere close to hopeful. everything in me wants to trust and wants to see that trust, shape my behavior and ultimately release the tension that consumes my heart. but i struggle to know that if these prayers, these tears, these gasps for hope, are actually cultivating trust and not just wishful thinking? how much weight can one heart bear...

the brokeness that has accompanied my recent days has found me repeatedly whispering prayers for the abrupt amputation of my heart. that i would feel nothing... joy, love, pain, would cease to exist. but those moments, those prayers pass and resigning myself to a shallow life of numbness and vacancy, somehow pales in comparison to the beauty found in uncertainty... the chance that hope will reap what it's sown and what was once unseen will be gloriously revealed in this life or the next.

how then, do we continue on this precarious road of hoping and trusting?
i'll be the first to admit i don't know the answer, but i do i believe it starts with knowing well, He who owns the road, who paved the road, who's walked it and who ultimately dictates where it leads. choosing to believe that truth and choosing to trust fully and ruthlessly in it, in Him, makes the risk in doing so, a little less baffling and immensely more enticing.

whatever it is that moves you, whatever you struggle to trust for, whatever or whomever stirs the depths of your heart, embrace it, breathe it in and don't exhale until your heart beholds that which as been hoped for. though there is risk and an unpredictable amount of scars awaiting, anything else would be less than living fully alive.

here's to being moved and moving in ruthless trust,
summer

sum thoughts for 2006...

closing out 2005 seemed for me, more of a beginning than end. i feel i have learned more in the last seven days than i have in last six months. it's amazing how knowledge tends to make me feel alive. it creates a sense of urgency in me. i'm gravely reminded that i will impact this world with my life, one way or another, but the depth of that impact can only be determined by my ability and willingness to embrace the fullness of where we as humanity, have been, where we are and being bold enough to believe in where we can possibly go. time seems to feel of the essence this year.

i've been reading a lot lately. the other night i read this letter from Martin Luther King, Jr. He had just been imprisoned in Birmingham, AL for non-violent demonstrating during a civil rights struggle. the letter was a response to his fellow clergymen who had given a recent statement to the press saying that King's present activities were "unwise and untimely". It is a very poignant, respectful letter, and yet it is not lacking in passion and conviction. You must read the entire 12 page letter, but for now here are a few highlights...

"I had hoped that the white moderate would reject the myth of time. I received a letter this morning from a white brother in Texas which said: " All Christians know that the colored people will receive equal rights eventually, but it is possible that you are in too great of a religious hurry. It has taken Christianity almost two thousand years to accomplish what it has. The teachings of Christ take time to come to earth." All that is said here grows out of a tragic misconception of time. It is the strangely irrational notion that there is something in the very flow of time that will inevitably cure all ills. Actually time is neutral. It can be used either destructively or constructively. I am coming to feel that the people of ill will have used time much more effectively than the people of good will. We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the vitriolic words and actions of bad people, but for the appalling silence of the good people. We must come to see that human progress never rolls in on wheels of inevitability. It comes through the tireless efforts and persistent work of men willing to be co-workers with God, and without this hard work time itself becomes an ally of the forces of social stagnation. "

"But as I continued to think about the matter i gradually gained a bit of satisfaction from being considered an extremist. Was not Jesus an extremist of love--"Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, pray from them that despitefully use you." Was not Amos an extremist for justice--"Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream." Was not Paul an extremist for the gospel of Jesus Christ--"I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus." Was not Martin Luther an extremist--"Here I stand; I can do none other so help me God." Was not John Bunyan an extremist--"I will stay in jail to the end of my days before i make a butchery of my conscience." Was not Abraham Lincoln an extremist--"This nation cannot survive half slave and half free," Was not Thomas Jefferson an extremist--"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal." So the question is not whether we will be extremist but what kind of extremist will we be. Will we be extremists for hate or for love? Will we be extremists for the preservation of injustice--or will we be extremists for the cause of justice? In that dramatic scene on Calvary's hill, three men were crucified. We must not forget that all three were crucified for the same crime--the crime of extremism. Two were extremists for immorality, and thusly fell below their environment. The other, Jesus Christ, was an extremist for love, truth and goodness, and thereby rose above his environment. So, after all, maybe the South, the nation and the world are in dire need of creative extremists."

*on the church...
"So here we are moving toward the exit of the twentieth century with a religious community largely adjusted to the status quo, standing as a taillight behind other community agencies rather than a headlight leading men to higher levels of justice. In deep disappointment, I have wept over the laxity of the church. But be assured my tears have been tears of love. There can be no deep disappointment where there is not deep love. Yes, I see the church as the body of Christ. But, oh! How we have blemished and scarred that body through social neglect and fear of being nonconformists. There was a time when the church was very powerful. It was during that period when the early Christians rejoiced when they were deemed worthy to suffer for what they believed. In those days the church was not merely a thermometer that recorded the ideas and principles of popular opinion; it was a thermostat that transformed the mores of society.
Things are different now. The contemporary church is often a weak, ineffectual voice with an uncertain sound. It is so often the arch-supporter of the status quo. Far from being disturbed by the presence of the church, the power structure of the average community is consoled by the church's silent and often vocal sanction of things as they are.
But the judgment of God is upon the church as never before. If the church of today does not recapture the sacrificial spirit of the early church, it will lose it's authentic ring, forfeit the loyalty of millions, and be dismissed as an irrelevant social club with no meaning for the twentieth century."

let's embrace this year with an understanding that we are the ones who will determine if poverty really is made history, if child slaves all over the world will know their rights to freedom and experience that freedom in their lifetime, if India's 'silent apartheid' will be made known to the rest of the world and be advocated against... it is no one else's responsibility but our own. As Dr. King says, " Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one affects all indirectly."

here's to becoming more courageous than cautious....
summer