Hello. Welcome to our blog. And a special welcome to those of you tuning in from home. I see that hand.
In the past week or so, several hundred of you have stumbled upon our little blog, and decided to stick around. I’m glad that you’re here. I hope you enjoy it. We’ve enjoyed making it.
I thought this would be a good time to do a blog freshman orientation. Some of you are here because you know us. Many of you are here because you linked in to one of our posts. A few of you are here as part of your court-mandated sensitivity training (hey, bobby). However you got here, I thought you might like to know what this place is all about.
Seriously. That’s the whole thing. There are a lot of people who use blogs like a newspaper, or an academic journal. Some people use them like a bullhorn or a pulpit. For a lot of people, it’s an online diary for them to share their innermost thoughts, like they suddenly ran out of “Hello Kitty” stationary, and decided to fire up a blogspot account instead. We are none of those things. Or, I guess, more precisely, we are all of those things, with no particular interest in doing any one of them well.
This blog is more like … a backyard BBQ. We are a group of people who love to hang out together, think we’re funny, like the same stuff, and are narcissistic enough to think that other people want to listen to every fascinating thing we think about everything. When we’re not doing this, we produce music, write books, teach graduate courses, tweak code, lead worship, and edit video content, all of which somehow fails to make us fabulously wealthy.
We are a study in contrast. We are fascinated by (and sympathetic toward) the emerging church movement, even though most of us worship and work in more traditional (ha!) seeker/purpose/modern churches. We find fundamentalism sickeningly fascinating, mostly because it reminds us so much of our childhoods (and, to be honest, some of our still cherished beliefs). We vote, but we usually hold our noses while we do it. We love music, and wish our churches were better at it. But we also wish it weren’t the only art form our congregations were comfortable worshiping in. We are all quitting smoking. Tomorrow. We like movies (and films), books (and literature), songs (and music); we love the beautiful poetry of theology, but we don’t expect it to work.
I find it hard to put into words how much I love this place, how much I love the people who show up here. It’s a refuge and a whiteboard and a coffee shop and a theatre, all in turn, all exactly when I need it. These people are my dearest friends. and it fills me up with pride to have provided the platform where they do their work. I also love the easy grace that welcomes newcomers into the community. Pull up a chair. Have some grilled chicken. Try the Sangria.
In the coming weeks, I’m going to revamp this site – it’s gotten to the point where people we don’t know are showing up, and the $20 festive jungle couch from the thrift store works just fine when your friends are coming by, but when company is coming, you should spruce up the place a bit.
As part of that revamp, I’m going to add author pages, so that you can get to know the people whose drivel you are wading through. I don’t want to slog through the kind of smug, false humility and chipper deference that you see in most author bios though, so instead of writing our own, we’re doing this round robin.
Aly, you’re writing one for Bryan
Bryan, you’re writing one for Chad
Chad, you’re writing one for me
and I’m writing one for Aly
In addition to the normal stuff, each bio must include the person’s ideal Jeopardy categories (there are 6).
Keep it to a few paragraphs. Feel free to include outrageous lies and embarrassing truths. At the end of each bio, the person you’re writing about will get a one paragraph rebuttal.
Those of you who don’t yet get what makes this place awesome, watch how this dogfight explodes, and you’ll understand.