best records of 2009

So, 2009. You know, I didn't get "out there" as much this year as I have in the past. From June 25th on, I basically only listened to Michael Jackson. And before that, I was stuck on an island with only a few albums that Audrey had mailed me (one of which made this list). And on top of all that, I lost a bet, which prevented me from listening to any bands from Versailles whose name starts with "Phoeni-." Okay, not really.

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10. the dead weather - horehound

This was a weird pick for me, because I didn't love it. Actually, I didn't really love many releases this year - at least not as many as I usually do. And while I didn't love it, I still loved screaming "M-A-N-I-P-U-LATE!" at the top of my lungs while driving past Third Man Records on my way home from a frustrating day at work this fall. And that was enough for inclusion, I guess. If I wasn't currently involved in a 7-year-long torrid love affair with Ryan Adams, I would say Jack White is the man of the decade, musically speaking.
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9. grizzly bear - veckatimest

All in all, I would say this was a pretty big let down for me. But that says more about how obsessed I was with Yellow House than anything negative about this album. I'm thinking I desperately need to see these songs performed live to gain full appreciation.
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8. neko case - middle cyclone

This was the record that Audrey mailed me in St. Croix. I fell asleep to it almost every night there. It was one of those releases that really gave me a greater appreciation for the artist. I went back and revisited Blacklisted and Fox Confessor so much that I may have actually played them more than this one over the past year.
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7. port o'brien - threadbare

The guy and girl that form Port O'Brien don't actually do music full-time. He spends his summers on a fishing boat off the coast of Alaska. And she spends her summers working in a bakery in a tiny port town in Larsen Bay (very close to Port O'Brien, Alaska). I thought that was a good enough reason to check it out. Listen to the track "My Will is Good."
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6. bill callahan - sometimes i wish we were an eagle

This gets my vote for the most beautiful release of the year. This is another one that I spent a good part of the year falling asleep to. I have always been a sucker for guys with bass-y vocals (think Stephen Merritt, Jens Lekman, or Will Oldham). They all lull me in the best way.
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5. devendra banhart - what will we be

This one is definitely still growing on me, and its already at number five. I think this might be his best.
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4. passion pit - manners

A blurb from Wade Holmes that can't be beat: "The song 'Little Secrets', or 'The Sunny Day Playground Jump Rope Song' as I like to call it, is a three minute and fifty-eight second summer day party, complete with frozen Jumbo Jet Star Pops from the Ice Cream Man and chalk drawn games of Tic-Tac-Toe displayed on the sidewalk. So, throw on some S.P.F. 45, hop on your bike and call all the kids in the neighborhood… because there’s a party going down and you’re all invited."
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3. the pains of being pure at heart - the pains of being pure at heart

This is what I like to imagine I would have been a fan of if I had been a teenager in the late 80's/early 90's. That shoe-gaze fuzz gets me every time. And when it is coupled with pop perfection - look out. For my heart beating out of my chest. Because I love it.
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2. joshua james - build me this

This came out of nowhere. Well, Utah isn't exactly nowhere. But I had never even heard of this guy until one day when I was browsing in Grimey's and the cover jumped out at me. Apparently enough for me to slap down some cash and take it home. I would have never discovered Joshua James if it weren't for the good old brick & mortar. Internet, you let me down on this one.
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1. dirty projectors - bitte orca

I listened to this on a sunny day in June on a long drive down the Natchez Trace Parkway, and it clicked SO hard. And I haven't stopped playing it since. This was the easiest number one pick for me in a long time.
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my top 20 films of the decade

What did I leave off? Tell me in the comments.


20. Primer (2004)














19. Adaptation. (2002)














18. Little Miss Sunshine (2006)














17. O Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000)














16. The Wrestler (2008)














15. Memento (2000)














14. Ratatoille (2007)














13. Eastern Promises (2007)














12. Cast Away (2000)














11. Children of Men (2006)














10. No Country for Old Men (2007)

I am currently in the middle of the novel right now, and reading it is only making me like the film even more. The Coen brothers continue to play in their corner of sandbox all they want if they keep building castles like this one.









9. Amelie (2001)

Before Audrey and I were dating, she spent a month living in Paris. While she was there, I climbed House Mountain and found a good skipping rock and sent it to her in an envelope and told her to find the canal in Montmartre where Amelie skips rocks and to do the same.

And the rest is history.





8. The Royal Tenenbaums (2001)

It wasn't Bottle Rocket or Rushmore that made me a Wes Anderson fan, it was this. And while Anderson's perfectionism can rub the wrong way with each slo-mo-mid-1960's-Rolling-Stones-song scene or meticulously and symmetrically placed prop and set piece, sometimes it all just comes together and forms the perfect film to watch for Halloween costume inspiration. I mean that in the best way.

Highlight: When Margot steps of the bus to Nico's "These Days"


7. The Visitor (2008)

I don't even remember why I watched this movie. I didn't know what it was about or who made it. But what I saw was Richard Jenkins giving one of the best performances I have seen. All I really want to say is: See This Film.









6. Inglourious Basterds (2009)

Somehow, knowing I was going to see the new Tarantino film, I went into the theater not expecting much. Maybe it was the off-putting trailer. Maybe it was Brad Pitt. Maybe it was the swastikas.

But what I saw was the most subversive (in only the best way) film I've seen, maybe ever. I left not knowing how to feel about what I had just seen, and in this case, I think that means Tarantino succeeded in his mission.




5. Almost Famous (2000)

This was my favorite film when I was in high school. When I was 18. Okay, I was 17. I was 16.











4. I Am Trying to Break Your Heart: A Film About Wilco (2002)

While this pick may have something to do with the fact that it chronicles the creation of my favorite record of all time (forever till the end of time), I think it is safe to say that whatever you think of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, this is still a fantastic documentary. Wilco will love you, baby.







3. Into the Wild (2007)

This film, more than any other, was an experience for me. I was right there with Chris the whole time, cheering his desire to get away, burn his money, and live life, man! But when he reads Dr. Zhivago and writes, "HAPPINESS ONLY REAL WHEN SHARED," I was hit with the same realization. And it floored me. And I haven't been the same since.






2. Lost in Translation (2003)

Sometimes the big reveal is that there is no big reveal. And sometimes that is brilliant.











1. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)

This was an easy choice for me. On most days, I have at least one moment where I think, "I kinda wanna watch Eternal Sunshine right now."

12.25.09

Merry Christmas from the soon-to-be Ruckers! Much love to all.

And a thousand thanks to Adam Brimer for the brilliant photos.

music videos in 2009

Like everything else, music videos have gone through very drastic changes over the past several years. As the internet has reigned supreme, and MTV and VH1 have become reality show networks, videos have had to try harder and harder to attain our attention. In 2009, that meant everyone got naked in their video. But only one of those videos was worth watching, if you ask me.

And with the distribution of video editing software to the masses, fans now have a very direct impact on the art: they direct their own videos. And then receive recognition from the band, the label, and other fans. And sometimes the band initiates a contest among its fans to see who can create the best music video. One of those videos is very worth watching.

My five favorite videos of 2009:

5. Dirty Projectors - "Stillness Is The Move" (directed by Matthew Lessner)


4. The Avett Brothers - "Slight Figure Of Speech"

The Avett Brothers - Slight Figure Of Speech - watch more funny videos

3. Matt and Kim - "Lessons Learned" (directed by Taylor Cohen and Otto Arsenault)


2. The Dead Weather - "Treat Me Like Your Mother" (directed by Jonathan Glazer)

The Dead Weather - Treat Me Like Your Mother

Third Man Records | MySpace Music Videos

1. M83 - "We Own The Sky" (contest winner - directed by Young Replicant)

audrey's and my bedroom

...Someday:

the besnard lakes are the roaring night

Very exciting news announced today - The Besnard Lakes will release The Besnard Lakes Are The Roaring Night on March 9 via Jagjaguwar.

Tracklist:
1. Like The Ocean, Like The Innocent Pt. 1: The Ocean
2. Like The Ocean, Like The Innocent Pt. 2: The Innocent
3. Chicago Train
4. Albatross
5. Glass Printer
6. Land of Living Skies Pt. 1: The Land
7. Land of Living Skies Pt. 2: The Living Skies
8. And This is What We Call Progress
9. Light Up The Night
10. The Lonely Moan

A taste of their 2007 album, The Besnard Lakes Are The Dark Horse:

"Disaster"


"For Angent 13"

grow up (there will be poo).

This rant, via Tomato Nation (thanks to Mr. Cote for sharing), really struck a nerve with me. I will be turning 25 in 2010, and I have found that the past several months have brought about some major changes in my life. Perhaps it is due to the fact that I am getting married soon, but I think it is no coincidence that this is all happening in my 24th year. I am finally starting to learn that I can still be a unique individual without being self-absorbed. I can retain passion and interest in something without promoting it toward an idolatrous obsession. And I can take care of myself - emotionally, physically, mentally - and still be "cool." And while I still think a homeless person has a better sense of fashion than a Parisian socialite, that doesn't mean I have to dress like one everyday.

Though I feel like I've been doing it for a long time, I think I'm finally growing up.

"If you have reached the age of 25, I have a bit of bad news for you, to wit: it is time, if you have not already done so, for you to emerge from your cocoon of post-adolescent dithering and self-absorption and join the rest of us in the world. Past the quarter-century mark, you see, certain actions, attitudes, and behaviors will simply no longer do, and while it might seem unpleasant to feign a maturity and solicitousness towards others that you may not genuinely feel, it is not only appreciated by others but necessary for your continued survival. Continuing to insist past that point that good manners, thoughtfulness, and grooming oppress you in some way is inappropriate and irritating.

Grow up.

And when I instruct you to grow up, I do not mean that you must read up on mortgage rates, put aside candy necklaces, or desist from substituting the word "poo" for crucial syllables of movie titles. Silliness is not only still permitted but actively encouraged. You must, however, stop viewing carelessness, tardiness, helplessness, or any other quality better suited to a child as either charming or somehow beyond your control. A certain grace period for the development of basic consideration and self-sufficiency is assumed, but once you have turned 25, the grace period is over, and starring in a film in your head in which you walk the earth alone is no longer considered a valid lifestyle choice, but rather grounds for exclusion from social occasions.

And now, for those of you who might have misplaced them, marching orders for everyone born before 1985.

1. Remember to write thank-you notes. If you do not know when a thank-you note is appropriate, consult an etiquette book — the older and more hidebound the book, the better. When in doubt, write one anyway; better to err on the side of formality. An email is not sufficient thanks for a physical gift. Purchase stationery and stamps, set aside five minutes, and express your gratitude in writing. Failure to do so implies that you don't care. This implication is a memorable one. Enough said.

2. Do not invite yourself to stay with friends when you travel anymore. Presumably you have a job, and the means to procure yourself a hotel. If so, do so. If not, stay home. Mentioning that you plan a visit to another city may lead to an invitation to stay with a friend or family member, which you may of course accept; assuming that "it's cool if you crash" is not. Wait for the invitation; if it is not forthcoming, this is what we call "a hint," and you should take it and make other arrangements.

3. Do not expect friends to help you move anymore. You may ask for help; you may not expect it, particularly if your move date is on a weekday. Your friends have jobs to go to, and you have accumulated a lot of heavy books by this point in your life. Hire a mover. If you cannot afford a mover, sell your books or put them in storage — or don't move, but one way or another, you will have to cope.

4. Develop a physical awareness of your surroundings. As children, we live in our own heads, bonking into things, gnawing on twigs, emitting random squawks because we don't know how to talk yet. Then, we enter nursery school. You, having graduated college or reached a similar age to that of the college graduate, need to learn to sense others and get out of their way. Walk single file. Don't blather loudly in public spaces. Give up your seat to those with disabilities or who are struggling with small children. Take your headphones off while interacting with clerks and passersby. Do not walk along and then stop suddenly. It is not just you on the street; account for that fact.

5. Be on time. The occasional public-transit snafu is forgivable, but consistent lateness is rude, annoying, and self-centered. If we didn't care when you showed up, we'd have said "any old time"; if we said seven, get there at seven or within fifteen minutes. Do not ditz that you "lost track of time" as though time somehow slipped its leash and ran into traffic. It shows a basic lack of respect for others; flakiness is not cute anymore, primarily because it never was. Buy a watch, wind it up, and wear it everywhere you go.

6. Have enough money. I do not mean "give up your scholarly dreams and join the world of corporate finance in order to keep up with the Joneses." I mean that you should not become that girl or boy who is always a few dollars short, can only cover exactly his or her meal but no tip, or "forgot" to go to the ATM. Go to the ATM first, don't order things you can't afford, and…

7. Know how to calculate the tip. Ten percent of the total; double it; done. You did not have to major in math to know how this works. You are not dumb, but your Barbie-math-is-hard flailing is agonizing and has outstayed its welcome. Ten percent times two. Learn it.

8. Do not share the crazy dream you had last night with anyone but your mental wellness professional. Nobody cares. People who starred in the dream may care, but confine your synopsis to ten words or fewer.

9. Learn to walk in heels. Gentlemen, you are at your leisure. Ladies: If you wear heels, know how to operate them. Clomping along and placing your foot down flat with each step gives the appearance of a ten-year-old playing dress-up, but a pair of heels is like a bicycle — you need momentum to stay up. Come down on the heel and carry forward through the toe, using your regular stride. If you feel wobbly, keep practicing, or get a pair that's better suited to your style of walking. It isn't a once-a-year prom thing anymore for a lot of you, so please learn to walk in them.

10. Have at least one good dress-up outfit. A dress code, or suggested attire on an invitation, is not an instrument of The Man. Own one nice dress, or one reasonable suit, or one sharp pair of pants and chic sweater — something you can clean up nice in for a wedding or a semi-formal dinner. You don't have to like it, but if the invitation requests it, put it on. Every night can't be poker night. Which reminds me…

11. Do as invitations ask you. Don't bring a guest when no such courtesy is extended. Don't blow off an RSVP; it means "please respond," and you should. "Regrets only" means you only answer if you can't come. If the party starts at eight, show up at eight — not at seven-thirty so you can go a "better" party later, not at eleven when dinner is cold. Eight. Cocktail parties allow for leeway, of course, but pay attention and read instructions; your host furnished the details for a reason.

12. Know how. Know how to drive. Know how to read a map. Know how to get around. Know how to change a tire, or whom to call if you can't manage it, or how to get to a phone if you don't have a cell phone. We will happily bail you out, until it becomes apparent that it's what you always need. The possibility of a fingernail breaking or a hairstyle becoming compromised is not grounds for purposeful helplessness.

13. Don't use your friends. It's soulless. It's also obvious. If the only reason you continue to associate with a person is to borrow his or her car, might I remind you that you have now turned 25 and may rent your own.

14. Have something to talk about besides college or your job. College is over. The war stories have their amusements, but not over and over and not at every gathering. Get a library card, go to the movies, participate in the world. Working is not living. Be interested so that you can be interesting.

15. Give and receive favors graciously. If you have agreed to do a favor, you may not 1) remind the favoree ceaselessly about how great a pain it is for you, or 2) half-ass it because the favoree "owes you." It is a favor; it is not required, and if you cannot do it, say so. If you can do it, pretend that nobody is watching, do it as best you can, and let that be the end of it. Conversely, if you ask for a favor and the askee cannot do it, do not get snappish. You can manage.

16. Drinking until you throw up is no longer properly a point of pride. It happens to the best of us, but be properly ashamed the next day; work on your tolerance, or eat something first, but amateur hour ended several years hence.

17. Have a real trash receptacle, real Kleenex, and, if you smoke, a real ashtray. No loose bags on the floor; no using a roll of toilet paper; no plates or empty soda cans. You are not a fierce warrior nomad of the Fratty Bubelatty tribe. Buy a wastebasket and grown-up paper products.

18. Universal quiet hours do in fact apply to you. They are, generally, as follows — midnight to six AM on weekdays, 2 AM to 8 AM on weekends. Mine is a fairly generous interpretation, by the by, so bass practice should conclude, not start, at ten PM. Understand also that just because nobody has complained directly to you does not mean that a complaint is not justified, or pending. Further, get your speakers off the floor. Yes, "now." Yes, a rug is still "the floor."

19. Take care of yourself. If you are sick, visit a doctor. If you are sad, visit a shrink or talk to a friend. If you are unhappy in love, break up. If you are fed up with how you look, buy a new shirt or stop eating cheese. If you have a problem, try to fix it. Many problems are knotty and need a lot of talking through, or time to resolve, but after a few months of all complaining and no fixing, those around you will begin to wonder if you don't enjoy the problems for the attention they bring you. Venting is fine; inertia coupled with pouting is not. Bored? Read a magazine. Mad at someone? Say so — to them. Change is hard; that's too bad. Effort counts. Make one. Your mommy's shift is over.

20. Rudeness is not a signifier of your importance. Rudeness is a signifier of itself, nothing more. We all have bad days; yours is not weightier than anyone else's, comparatively, and does not excuse displays of poor breeding. Be civil or be elsewhere."

the tide pools

The northwest shore of St. Croix can be very treacherous. The rolling hills of that corner of the island spill violently into the ocean (and continue steeply downward into the Virgin Islands Trough at 13,000 feet below sea level). This rocky shore, just east of Annalay Bay, is home to the tide pools.

Over time, the force of the ocean has built up walls of jagged rocks a good distance away from the cliffs that extend to the top of the hills above. The waves still occasionally spill over these walls, creating large pools in the sandy craters.

Here is a bird's eye view. Press the (+) to zoom directly in on the pools (The "A" is the farm):


View Larger Map

During my last weekend on the island, I took a trip to these pools with my friends Patrick and Ryan. We hiked from the farm to the pools and spent an hour or so playing in the water, climbing the wall of rocks, and waiting for huge waves to crash into the rocks and splash foam in our faces. It was so much fun....




...Until we built up our pride a little too much and ventured further west. This side of the pool was much more exposed to the crashing waves. With Ryan and Patrick just behind me, I climbed up the wall and started walking along the top. Before I had time to realize what was happening, a wave thundered over the wall and lifted me into the air. The sheer force of the wave was the most physical energy I'd ever felt in my entire life. I was a rag-doll.

Then came the thud. My body flew off the wall to the rocks 8 feet below, my left shoulder and butt taking the brunt of the blow. Somehow my head had missed hitting anything, but as I lay there, I realized I could barely move. Another wave exploded over the wall, surrounding my limp body with salty foam that forced its way into my eyes and mouth. Several long seconds later, I was able to bring my head above water and gasp for air, preparing for another wave.

Apparently the monster waves come in pairs, because no other wave came close to the clout of those first two. Patrick and Ryan looked down at me with stunned looks on their faces. The wave missed Patrick, and Ryan was barely able to grab a hold of the wall with his finger tips at the last moment. He was bloody from cuts, but had been able to remain firmly on top of the wall. I was the only one to be launched into the air.

With much pain and effort, I was finally able to wiggle my toes, lift myself off the rocks, and hobble to the safety of my cabana on the farm. I will never forget the feeling of utter helplessness I had as that wave picked me up and thrashed me around as if I were a speck of dust in the wind.

Here is a video that Ryan took when we first arrived at the pools. The large waves in this footage were nothing compared to the monsters that came later:



I spent my last two days on the farm mostly bedridden. It wasn't until weeks later, at a church service at Grace Center that the pain finally left my body. I, seriously and without drama, thank God that I didn't die that day. If I had landed any other way, I very easily could have.

letters of note

Shaun Usher is the blogger behind the relatively new site, Letters of Note. He provides a very interesting look at history through "correspondence deserving of a wider audience." Everyone from Jeff Buckley to Jack the Ripper have letters posted. Here are a few particularly neat-o ones:

Ghandi to Hitler

September 1st, 1939: Poland is invaded by Germany, resulting in what many believe to be the beginning of World War II. Just over a month before this happens, Mahatma Gandhi writes the first of two letters to Adolf Hitler in an attempt to prevent the oncoming war. This particular letter never reaches Hitler due to an intervention by the government. More information here.


Transcript:

As at Wardha,
C. P.,
23-7-'39

Dear friend,

Friends have been urging me to write to you for the sake of humanity. But I have resisted their request, because of the feeling that any letter from me would be an impertinence. Something tells me that I must not calculate and that I must make my appeal for whatever it may be worth.

It is quite clear that you are today the one person in the world who can prevent a war which may reduce humanity to a savage state. Must you pay that price for an object however worthy it may appear to you to be? Will you listen to the appeal of one who has deliberately shunned the method of war not without considerable success? Any way I anticipate your forgiveness, if I have erred in writing to you.

I remain,

Your sincere friend

M. K. Gandhi

HERR HITLER
BERLIN
GERMANY.
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Philip K. Dick to the production company for the film Blade Runner

Blade Runner, a movie still regarded by many as the greatest science fiction film ever made, was based on the novel Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep. Its author, Philip K. Dick, had been extremely apprehensive of a future adaptation but wrote the following letter to the film's production company after catching his first glimpse of the movie during a television programme. He passed away just 5 months later, 4 months before the movie was released.



Transcript:

October 11, 1981

Mr. Jeff Walker,
The Ladd Company,
4000 Warner Boulevard,
Burbank,
Calif. 91522.

Dear Jeff,

I happened to see the Channel 7 TV program "Hooray For Hollywood" tonight with the segment on BLADE RUNNER. (Well, to be honest, I didn't happen to see it; someone tipped me off that BLADE RUNNER was going to be a part of the show, and to be sure to watch.) Jeff, after looking --and especially after listening to Harrison Ford discuss the film-- I came to the conclusion that this indeed is not science fiction; it is not fantasy; it is exactly what Harrison said: futurism. The impact of BLADE RUNNER is simply going to be overwhelming, both on the public and on creative people -- and, I believe, on science fiction as a field. Since I have been writing and selling science fiction works for thirty years, this is a matter of some importance to me. In all candor I must say that our field has gradually and steadily been deteriorating for the last few years. Nothing that we have done, individually or collectively, matches BLADE RUNNER. This is not escapism; it is super realism, so gritty and detailed and authentic and goddam convincing that, well, after the segment I found my normal present-day "reality" pallid by comparison. What I am saying is that all of you collectively may have created a unique new form of graphic, artistic expression, never before seen. And, I think, BLADE RUNNER is going to revolutionize our conceptions of what science fiction is and, more, can be.

Let me sum it up this way. Science fiction has slowly and ineluctably settled into a monotonous death: it has become inbred, derivative, stale. Suddenly you people have come in, some of the greatest talents currently in existence, and now we have a new life, a new start. As for my own role in the BLADE RUNNER project, I can only say that I did not know that a work of mine or a set of ideas of mine could be escalated into such stunning dimensions. My life and creative work are justified and completed by BLADE RUNNER. Thank you..and it is going to be one hell of a commercial success. It will prove invincible.

Cordially,

Philip K. Dick
____________________

J.D Salinger to Mr. Stevens, a young fan



Transcript:

Oct. 21, 1962

Dear Mr. Stevens,

I must tell you first, offputtingly or no, that I am at best a one-shot letter writer, these days. Along with that, I really never have anything to say when I`m done writing fiction at the end of a day. One thought, and one only, hits me about your letter. Entirely "materialistic," I'm afraid. You need a new typewriter ribbon. Get one or don't get one, but unless you make an effort to deal with things as unabstractly as that, you're stewing quite unnecessarily. You've decided that Things are what matter to people. Of course. Not only with "people" but with you, too. Everything in your letter is a thing, concrete or abstract. Avidya and vidya are things. For me, before anything else, you're a young man who needs a new typewriter ribbon. See that fact, and don't attach more significance to it than it deserves, and then get on with the rest of the day. Good wishes to you.

(Signed, 'JDS')


Many, many more letters can be read here.

lord, save us from your followers

This is a great article from Esquire Magazine written by Shane Claiborne (Jesus for President, The Irresistible Revolution). Thanks to Lori for sharing the article.


What If Jesus Meant All That Stuff?

This radical Christian's ministry for the poor, The Simple Way, has gotten him in some trouble with his fellow Evangelicals. [Esquire Magazine] asked him to address those who don't believe:

To all my nonbelieving, sort-of-believing, and used-to-be-believing friends: I feel like I should begin with a confession. I am sorry that so often the biggest obstacle to God has been Christians. Christians who have had so much to say with our mouths and so little to show with our lives. I am sorry that so often we have forgotten the Christ of our Christianity.

Forgive us. Forgive us for the embarrassing things we have done in the name of God.

The other night I headed into downtown Philly for a stroll with some friends from out of town. We walked down to Penn's Landing along the river, where there are street performers, artists, musicians. We passed a great magician who did some pretty sweet tricks like pour change out of his iPhone, and then there was a preacher. He wasn't quite as captivating as the magician. He stood on a box, yelling into a microphone, and beside him was a coffin with a fake dead body inside. He talked about how we are all going to die and go to hell if we don't know Jesus.

Some folks snickered. Some told him to shut the hell up. A couple of teenagers tried to steal the dead body in the coffin. All I could do was think to myself, I want to jump up on a box beside him and yell at the top of my lungs, "God is not a monster." Maybe next time I will.

The more I have read the Bible and studied the life of Jesus, the more I have become convinced that Christianity spreads best not through force but through fascination. But over the past few decades our Christianity, at least here in the United States, has become less and less fascinating. We have given the atheists less and less to disbelieve. And the sort of Christianity many of us have seen on TV and heard on the radio looks less and less like Jesus.

At one point Gandhi was asked if he was a Christian, and he said, essentially, "I sure love Jesus, but the Christians seem so unlike their Christ." A recent study showed that the top three perceptions of Christians in the U. S. among young non-Christians are that Christians are 1) antigay, 2) judgmental, and 3) hypocritical. So what we have here is a bit of an image crisis, and much of that reputation is well deserved. That's the ugly stuff. And that's why I begin by saying that I'm sorry.

Now for the good news.

I want to invite you to consider that maybe the televangelists and street preachers are wrong — and that God really is love. Maybe the fruits of the Spirit really are beautiful things like peace, patience, kindness, joy, love, goodness, and not the ugly things that have come to characterize religion, or politics, for that matter. (If there is anything I have learned from liberals and conservatives, it's that you can have great answers and still be mean... and that just as important as being right is being nice.)

The Bible that I read says that God did not send Jesus to condemn the world but to save it... it was because "God so loved the world." That is the God I know, and I long for others to know. I did not choose to devote my life to Jesus because I was scared to death of hell or because I wanted crowns in heaven... but because he is good. For those of you who are on a sincere spiritual journey, I hope that you do not reject Christ because of Christians. We have always been a messed-up bunch, and somehow God has survived the embarrassing things we do in His name. At the core of our "Gospel" is the message that Jesus came "not [for] the healthy... but the sick." And if you choose Jesus, may it not be simply because of a fear of hell or hope for mansions in heaven.

Don't get me wrong, I still believe in the afterlife, but too often all the church has done is promise the world that there is life after death and use it as a ticket to ignore the hells around us. I am convinced that the Christian Gospel has as much to do with this life as the next, and that the message of that Gospel is not just about going up when we die but about bringing God's Kingdom down. It was Jesus who taught us to pray that God's will be done "on earth as it is in heaven." On earth.

One of Jesus' most scandalous stories is the story of the Good Samaritan. As sentimental as we may have made it, the original story was about a man who gets beat up and left on the side of the road. A priest passes by. A Levite, the quintessential religious guy, also passes by on the other side (perhaps late for a meeting at church). And then comes the Samaritan... you can almost imagine a snicker in the Jewish crowd. Jews did not talk to Samaritans, or even walk through Samaria. But the Samaritan stops and takes care of the guy in the ditch and is lifted up as the hero of the story. I'm sure some of the listeners were ticked. According to the religious elite, Samaritans did not keep the right rules, and they did not have sound doctrine... but Jesus shows that true faith has to work itself out in a way that is Good News to the most bruised and broken person lying in the ditch.

It is so simple, but the pious forget this lesson constantly. God may indeed be evident in a priest, but God is just as likely to be at work through a Samaritan or a prostitute. In fact the Scripture is brimful of God using folks like a lying prostitute named Rahab, an adulterous king named David... at one point God even speaks to a guy named Balaam through his donkey. Some say God spoke to Balaam through his ass and has been speaking through asses ever since. So if God should choose to use us, then we should be grateful but not think too highly of ourselves. And if upon meeting someone we think God could never use, we should think again.

After all, Jesus says to the religious elite who looked down on everybody else: "The tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the Kingdom ahead of you." And we wonder what got him killed?

I have a friend in the UK who talks about "dirty theology" — that we have a God who is always using dirt to bring life and healing and redemption, a God who shows up in the most unlikely and scandalous ways. After all, the whole story begins with God reaching down from heaven, picking up some dirt, and breathing life into it. At one point, Jesus takes some mud, spits in it, and wipes it on a blind man's eyes to heal him. (The priests and producers of anointing oil were not happy that day.)

In fact, the entire story of Jesus is about a God who did not just want to stay "out there" but who moves into the neighborhood, a neighborhood where folks said, "Nothing good could come." It is this Jesus who was accused of being a glutton and drunkard and rabble-rouser for hanging out with all of society's rejects, and who died on the imperial cross of Rome reserved for bandits and failed messiahs. This is why the triumph over the cross was a triumph over everything ugly we do to ourselves and to others. It is the final promise that love wins.

It is this Jesus who was born in a stank manger in the middle of a genocide. That is the God that we are just as likely to find in the streets as in the sanctuary, who can redeem revolutionaries and tax collectors, the oppressed and the oppressors... a God who is saving some of us from the ghettos of poverty, and some of us from the ghettos of wealth.

In closing, to those who have closed the door on religion — I was recently asked by a non-Christian friend if I thought he was going to hell. I said, "I hope not. It will be hard to enjoy heaven without you." If those of us who believe in God do not believe God's grace is big enough to save the whole world... well, we should at least pray that it is.

Your brother,

Shane

This article reminded me of the film (that I haven't seen yet), Lord, Save Us From Your Followers: