1) My wife is making me eat grapes. I just had a sandwich for lunch then walked back upstairs (yes, I work from home) to get some more 'cause I was still hungry. "Have some grapes..." said the wife. "I want another sandwich..." said I. "Nah, have grapes. I was talking to your Mom and she said you look like you're losing weight. Have grapes." So I'm eating grapes. The point of this? Listen to your wife and you'll end up skinnier. And I hear that skinnier husbands get more...lovin'.
2) Have your forgotten how great Soundgarden were as a band? Just re-downloaded 'Superunknown' and it STILL rocks. Check them out here for a refresher then hit iTunes for the album. Best $7.99 you'll spend this month.
Okay, onto the point of this post.
I had an inexplicable urge to go get my hair cut today.
Strange urge. I'm not THAT bushy just yet. I am growing a beard, which is a reaction to having to be so highly-coiffed all the time when I'm shooting TV shows, but my hair is still a week away from 'zero hour'. Anyway, today had to be the day and I had no idea why.
Then the 'why' walked into the room.
He's the young pastor of one of the hippest and happenin'est Churches in our area. A bit of a 'wunderkind' some would call him. His Church has grown from zero to fair busting at the seams in four short years. He's good-looking, smart, passionate and, most importantly on the 'Pastor scale', he's full of empathy. The kind of dude who comes across as sincerely interested in people and their journey.
Last year I almost got in a fistfight with some of the male leaders at his Church. It was a case of legalism run amok slamming headlong into a guy like me, and guys like me tend to pick 'fight' on the 'fight or flight' scale. Anyway, the details of the altercation don't beg mention but what does need to be blogged about was the aftermath.
Since retiring as Pastors of our Church back in January of 2006 we've found it very difficult to find a Church we feel might be our new 'home'. And it's not like we haven't tried. I think last count was five or six or seven (don't remember exactly) different Churches we've attended for three or four consecutive Sunday's, hoping to find a place that did to us/with us the kind of things Churches can sometimes do.
No dice.
And when you're an ex-preacher, you tend to have a pretty high view of Church and tend to believe that it should continue to be a part of your life. Problem is, once you've planted a Church your Church-going experience becomes like the movie-going experience for folk like us who are professional (to varying degrees) at rendering story and image for the screen.
I distinctly remember the day when, having studied screenwriting for a year or two at that point, I went to a movie and couldn't watch it the same way. Much more so once I'd actually directed a feature-film. I found myself almost unable to watch a movie and enjoy it like a viewer. I was watching the structure, anticipating the cuts, the cues, debating the merits of the performances.
It's hard to be a filmmaker and still love the movies.
Same deal with Churches, service structure, and preaching. Once you've 'produced' in that environment you become acutely aware of the possibility and peril of it all. On the one hand possibility--> your service, the things that happen in it, the way in which it's all constructed and done, can speak to your audience in a such a way that it, literally, makes a life or death difference in their lives. The peril of it is, of course, that you can screw the pooch and waste those people's time leaving them as empty as when they first arrived.
(to the 'pros' I realize there's the sovereignty element as well, I would submit that the objective works through the subjective and sometimes over and against it but usually in concert...)
Same thing with movies and popular television. At the highest end of the spectrum you can be making great art that speaks something into the culture and into the lives of your audience while being entertaining and immersive at the same time. That's the possibility of the arts. The peril is that you become one more sycophant creating pap that's forgotten as soon as it's consumed, wasting the promise of your talent on a farce.
It's hard to be a preacher and still love Church. It's hard to be a producer and still love the arts. It's hard to be a _______ (insert your career) and still love _________ (insert your industry).
And I'm here to tell you that if you lose the love of the thing you're well on your way to losing your impact.
So that Sunday of 'the fight' left a long and lingering pain in my wife and I. We really felt sullied by it. And the worst thing is that we were really loving the Church. My wife especially. Our kids really liked their kids program, it was in our extended neighborhood and had a real sense of vitality to it. Then the fight. So I said what I said, the dudes reacted the way the reacted, and we never went back.
The problem was, the lead pastor and his wife and their kids are our neighbors.
(how you like them apples?)
And there came a night when the lead pastor's wife was walking by our house and my wife said 'hi' and the lead pastor's wife didn't really respond. She just kind of glanced over quickly and kept walking. "That's it!" says the wife. "She knows. They hate us. Why couldn't you have just kept your mouth shut?"
A thing we've tried to avoid as much as possible in life is that moment when you spot somebody with whom you've got bad blood and your stomach lurches. You're at the grocery store, there's no way to avoid them, now what? Oh crap this is going to suck.
That moment.
So we've just been dreading that moment with the lead pastor and his wife.
And today was the day.
I'm reading, at the barber shop. I see a business-looking-guy reading the paper. He's one in front of me in the cue. His spot opens up. He stands. I recognize him. "Oh Crap!" I think. "Dang it! Why'd I have to come today? Calm down Todd. Just keep reading your GQ. He probably has no idea who you are..."
Haircut finishes. He pays. Turns. Walks right up to me. Offers his hand. "Hey, are you Todd Cantelon?"
And we got to talking.
His ended up late for an appointment. I ended up missing my haircut.
But I found out he had no idea that what had happened had happened and he and I had a chance to chat, pro to pro, about the promise and peril of Church. It was a good moment. He told me his wife didn't know a thing about what had happened either and that her 'walk by' that night must have been connected to a racing mind and deteriorating peripheral vision (!)
Bottom line it was all good.
As we shook hands in the parking lot he saw me going for my car. "Aren't you going to get your hair cut?" I thought about it for a second. "Nah, way I see it, I was here for you today..."
And maybe for me.
'Cause now Niki and I can cross another potential couple of 'enemies' off the list and can stop worrying about meeting them at the grocery store.
All that to say.
Don't lose the love of what you do, even if you have to fight for it.
And...
When you get those gut instinct moments. Go with them. Sometimes you'll get a haircut, sometimes you'll get a piece of peace.
You never know what you'll meet when you venture out into the superunknown.
(skidda-ttisshh)
T
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