Jared Witt l January 26, 2016
It’s not a character flaw. It just is what it is. Some people have never had a profound personal experience with music. It doesn’t matter the genre, their ears are just missing whatever is the ear equivalent of cones in the eyes. These are the people who, when asked what they listen to, say, “Whatever is on the radio” and who think it’s appropriate to talk over the bridge in “Sunday Bloody Sunday” when you’re riding in the car.
I won’t pretend to understand these people. In high school I was even convinced that they were missing a soul. Older, more adjusted Jared can just accept that not everyone is wired the same, and bless their hearts, they just access the dark matter of their existence differently through…I dunno…watching ”Two and a Half Men” or paying their bills early or...whatever…the point is, it’s fine. I don’t need them to get the guitar solo in “Limelight” for my sake.
Jared Witt l January 19, 2016
We normally use the term “secular” to describe what something isn't—it’s not religious. But if we look at the original meaning of the term, it might open up some more robust insights about the role of a Christian in our world.
Our adjective, secular, comes from the Latin noun, saeculum, which literally just means “century” or “age.” But more broadly it came to refer to the ordinary passage of time, the mindless ticking of a clock. The alternative to secular time was not Christian, or Islamic, or some other kind of religious time but time which has been made sacred or meaningful. At risk of sounding like a bad Boyz II Men song, anyone who has ever fallen in love knows how a moment can last forever and forever can fit inside a moment. The opposite of secular time is time that stands at the precipice looking into eternity in a similar sense.
Think of the distinction this way. Animals can’t help but live in the saeculum. They wake up. They hunt, gather, and compete for food. They lie down again. Today is no different than yesterday. Tomorrow is no different than today.
Jared Witt l January 12, 2016
Yep, that's right. I'm giving myself a pass since it is Holy Week (pastor's Super Bowl) and reposting this oldy which I hope is also a goody:
Truth has always been a delicate thing. It’s always jarring to be reminded that even simple truths sometimes need to be defended, old truths are sometimes debatable, and objective truths are sometimes only as helpful as their advocates.
This has always been the case. Truth can be frustrating that way.
But I don't think I'm alone in feeling that things are not the same right now as they always have been. Truth has always been debatable, but everyone at least assumed that there was a truth to be debated. Even established truths—the earth is the center of the universe, some races are superior to others, Americans can’t play soccer—could be revised once new information presented itself or new voices had their say (well, we’re still working on that last one). But this at least assumed that everyone would care if conflicting information were uncovered.
Jared Witt l January 5, 2016
Winners win. Losers lose. The haves trample the have nots.
We can just look outside our window and see that narrative unfolding all around us. It’s the oldest and most worn out story there is. Any interest that tale ever held has been used up and spent out, if nothing else, through the sheer overuse.
So it’s astounding to me how many people truly believe that the Good News of Jesus the Christ is nothing more than a cosmic repetition of the “winners win; loser’s lose” story—choose the right savior, make the right decisions, be good (and probably white, straight, well-to-do, etc.), and you’ll be inducted into the eternal winner’s circle. What a redundant waste of paper the Bible would be if that’s all it had to say (and, yes, in the hands of some readers, it is exactly that).
On how Castle Church is stirring up a movement from a brewery in Florida.