One thing I’ve really enjoyed since Kyrie was born is putting her to sleep. I’ve probably done this more than any other child responsibility. Something about papa and just wanting to go to sleep. Since Kyrie’s birth, I’ve used two main lullabies to get her to sleep. The one I use most often is “Eat this Bread” (followed by “American Pie,” which is what I use when she’s not very tired).

Anyway, after compline tonight, both Rachel and I were singing her to sleep. It doesn’t happen very often that we both sing her to sleep together, but Kyrie stopped us in the middle of our singing to say this:

Kyrie (tapping her doll’s head): I put water on her head.
Rick: To baptize her, so she can be in Jesus?
Kyrie: Yes.
Rachel: Do you know anything about this?
Rick: Noooo.

Kyrie: Jesus took my sins away. Jesus will give my sins back to me.
Rachel: Kyrie, that’s a good thing that He took them away.
Kyrie: I want my sins back!

I think she believes that she can do extra mischief if she had more sins to work with.

Tom Schwegler offers insight into why contemporary music makes congregational singing difficult over on the Internet Monk’s blog.

I think Schwegler is right on. I’ve always had a problem with finding a way to incorporate contemporary music in such a way that it’s good for the congregation. I think Schwegler put some of my own thoughts into the words I couldn’t find. His points sum up my own thoughts:

Complexity: Many contemporary songs are made for soloists, not congregations. Nothing is worse to me than a passionate band singing for the congregation. That just irks me. It makes true the charge of entertainment worship.

Less information: As someone who doesn’t read music, but can generally follow notes (most of the time), I find it quite annoying to go into a church and hear a song I’ve never heard before and expect to sing it. Sometimes I can; sometimes I can’t. I want to see the music.

More oral tradition:It also vexes me to hear a worship leader sing a song contrary to the way you might hear it on CCM. I want to know what I am singing before I start singing or at least have a road map.

Chords vs. tunes: I’ve always been fond of a piano or organ (mostly piano) leading worship (Forrest is trying to convince me a guitar and drums are better, but now I’ve obtained newly read ammunition!). I’ve never understood why I felt that guitar didn’t work as well for leading congregational music, but I think Schwegler’s right in asserting it’s because guitars play chords, not tunes. It may also be that I am partial to piano over guitars; I hardly ever see anyone play an acoustic guitar in a way that doesn’t sound cheap when it comes to worship. My wife assures me that it’s just because I’ve never been in a church that plays acoustic guitars well, but I think it’s because my Catholic-Lutheran upbringing has given me a particular standard of what music should sound like.

Fr. Jerry Cimijotti gave me a book earlier this week called The Way, the Truth, and the Life written by the “Theological Resource Team of GAFCON” in the time preceding the conference.

After reading the 89 page book, I have a fuller understanding of GAFCON. The opening chapter gives a brief, but very full history of the relationship between Canterbury and GAFCON leaders, particularly in the Global South. This history clearly shows how Canterbury has consistently gone against the will of the Primates. (Perhaps one of the most interesting assertions was the belief that, in unwittingly adopting an Orthodox view of discipline, we have left ourselves defenseless.) The expense of these battles along with the distraction they have caused for spreading the gospel have caused leaders to desire a quicker measure to restore authentic Anglicanism.

The second section seeks to define authentic Anglicanism. It gives a robust and broad view of the Scriptures, the nature of Christ, and the purpose of worship.* While I found the work on sacraments lacking, it was broad enough to encompass a wide range of views. I also received the worship guide for the services that took place during the week of GAFCON. The worship definitely looked more evangelical in tone, with the use of more alternative services–which is personally not a negative, but makes me wary of the introduction of poor liturgical forms.

My major concern after reading the booklet was the interpretation and nature of the Articles of Religion (though I have been directed to further discussion on the issue). While I still have questions about whether GAFCON will be proposing a long-term solution, the description of the future re-alignment has given me a renewed hope that this is a long-term solution. While I have heard some of these plans through a couple of GAFCON attendees, I see very little written on these future plans, which I think lends itself to the understanding that GAFCON isn’t offering an alternative to what we already have in place. It is.

Moreover, my reading of the short book has also given me confidence in the competence of GAFCON leaders to create something that works.

Kyrie thinks that all pastors are Jesus. When we visited a Lutheran church a few weeks ago during our vacation at the Oregon coast, the pastor said, “Let us rise for the Kyrie,” and Kyrie whispered excitedly, “Jesus said to rise for me!”

Just now, she walked up to Rick and said, “I’m getting SO old, Papa.”

I was able to speak with Fr. Jerry a bit this morning about GAFCON, and after learning more about the future plans, my fears are somewhat allayed. I still have questions about how confessional an eventual new province might be. My fears probably because I spent time being Lutheran (LCMS) and Presbyterian, which can get pretty awful from the standard of subscribing to a confession. I know Anglicans don’t typically tend to be this way, but I am a bit paranoid. I fear things like swinging too far to a receptionist eucharistic position or communion for only the confirmed. But my fears are more of an evangelical overthrow, which I would hope didn’t happen.

On the way to church this morning, we passed an Anglo-Catholic parish, and when Rachel inquired about it, I made some flippant and probably uncharitable comment about it being a “lair of spikery.” The term was on the tip of my tongue because of an article I had read yesterday on “homosexuality and the Anglo-Catholic subculture.” The best thing about this article is it’s short summary of Anglo-Catholicism and its various branches. It shows just how complex “Anglo-Catholic” can be. It also distinguishes between High Church and Anglo-Catholic, which is relieving to me. As I’ve said here before, I would consider myself somewhat high church in that I believe we should sing/chant most of the liturgy, but I am NOT Anglo-Catholic. Nobody seems to believe that you can be high church and not Anglo-Catholic, though.

The recent GAFCON statement has my head twirling a bit.

I am not sure what this will mean for Anglicanism, but I am a bit concerned. I share some of the concerns that Archishop Williams and Bishop Wright, as well as others, have voiced (see some responses to GAFCON here).

Anglicanism has always had great diversity, and while I agree that communion needs to be broken with classic liberals, I worry that this is not just Anglican-style schism. One of the most beautiful things about Anglicanism is that it is quite diverse. Now I realize there are limits to this diversity, but I wonder where the limits will be drawn. I don’t want Anglicanism to become another evangelical denomination. Evangelicalism is just one strain of Anglicanism, and while in many ways, I am in that strain, I find much of benefit in the Anglo-Catholic and latitudinarian strains.

I often find myself agreeing more with Jim Wallis than with Os Guinness. Will that mean that I will be labeled as a liberal within the new regime because I am more liberal in the areas of economics, the environment, and politics? I find myself agreeing more with the sacramentality of Schmemann, Waterland, and even Pusey than with Stott. Will I be labeled as a Catholic? (Catholics seem to be tolerated, and if you’re in San Joaquin, slightly lauded, but how long will that last?)

My reading of the Scriptures often has me agreeing more with liberals than with evangelicals when it comes to the way of Jesus. How much latitude will there be to follow the Scriptures wherever they go–even when that leads away from evangelicalism?

I am finding it increasingly more difficult for my faith to have a home.

Kyrie: “Mama, where’s my other yellow sock?”
Me: “I don’t know, sweetie.”
Kyrie: “Maybe it’s in heaven?”

Most of my friends are Ron Paul fans, and I have to admit I find the guy fascinating. I watched his fundraising drive last year closely, and I have somewhat followed his campaign. I’ve known about him since college through my friend Nathan and through Scary Gary’s work in his campaign. I think he might be just what this country needs–a start at a big change. That said, I think I want that more for shock value. I like a lot of what he says, but I also find much with which to disagree.

Let’s just say I’ve been rethinking economics over the past five years (incidentally, about the time I joined the blue party). Rachel and I were discussing Ron Paul this evening, which led into a conversation on socialism vs. capitalism (along with some communism and fascism). I was mostly talking about the problems I see (biblically) with a “free market.” Lo and behold, I came home to see Doug Jones had blogged some of these things in a critique of Sowell’s economics. I haven’t had the chance to read Jones’ other critiques of Sowell, but this hits it on the head. The free market will work great in the resurrection, I’m sure, but sin will always mess it up here.

For me, one of the biggest problems I have with the libertarian way of thinking is its focus is on me. My rights. We have certain rights, and the government is taking them away. Okay, sure. I understand the sentiment. The recent bans on spanking and homeschooling in California drive me up the wall. As the Five Man Electrical band sang, “Hey! what gives you the right!” But, I question if the “American Dream” is a really a “right” we should have. Don’t get me wrong. I strongly desire those things: the perfect car, home, and job, but do I really have an “inalienable right” to pursue wealth at that level?

As I said to Rachel, the platform of the Republicans is “You can be rich!” I really like this idea. The problem is that the way to get there will often trample the poor.

The Democrats say to the poor, “You don’t have to be poor!” So who does their plan screw over?–well, the rich, and…me…and a lot of you. People that aren’t poor–we say we are, and we all have our financial problems, but we aren’t homeless, and in America, you always have the ability to pull yourself out of poverty. This isn’t Bangkok or Bogota.

I don’t want democratic style socialism. My middle class living might go down to lower middle class. That would be annoying. I would feel even more poor (such a relative term).

But is it such a bad thing to sacrifice my potential wealth for the sake of the poor? If Jones’ is right in his exposition of James, and I think he is,* that’s exactly what we’re called to do.

* I know, I too am shocked I’m finding so much common ground with Doug Jones lately.

On traditional roles:

Noelle: Girls go shopping.
Kyrie: Yeah, girls go shopping!
Noelle: Boys go shopping too.
Kyrie: No, boys go to work.