Raspy Bob gets his inflection and gathers no moss.

I saw Dylan live on Thursday night at the Burswood Dome.
Now, before I get going, there's a couple of things you need to face up to before you make your entry into a Dylan concert.

First, you're seeing one of the living legends and great poets of our time doing his thing. And, second: Bob's thing is Bob's thing.

There's a few more things you should know about a Dylan concert. Unless you make some serendipitous stumble of the highest order, you're probably going to be seeing him in a venue way larger than ideal. This was certainly true of the Burswood Dome (as it was when I saw him in 2002 at the Perth Entertainment Centre).

The next thing you need to understand is that you're not going to see a display of breathtaking pyrotechnics and laser lights. Nor will you see electrifying dance moves (although that seemingly rubber left leg can be kind of cute). Indeed, a slick stage is unlikely too—it's not often you see gear on stage at a big show these days, but you could spot Vox amplifiers from a mile off.

You're not coming to see some backing dancers in tight clothes gyrating behind the front man as he 'gets the audience jumpin', jumpin' either. And I realised some way in to the show that being able to do laid back from a position of absolute authenticity is way different to the disinterested charade paraded by some of the generations of artists that have followed in Bob's footsteps.

You shouldn't expect to develop a personal relationship with Bob either. Back in 2002, the extent of his conversing with the audience was a simple 'hello' (or complex? it was hard to tell by the intonation) after about the 10th song. During the day at work, we'd taken punts on the likely word count for Bob. One punter suggested an outrageous 23 words. I was optimistically rooting for 8.

And—final disclaimer—you're not coming to hear dulcet and supple vocal techniques paraded for your aural satisfaction.

But, let's face it, you signed up to see a Bob Dylan concert...you never expected to see or hear any of that stuff.

So, with that out the way, on to the concert.

As Brad, Sherri and I walked across the park from where I work in Burswood to join the others we were Dylan-ing with, I commented that this would be a lousy concert to lay down the ultimatum that 'he better do such-and-such-a-song'. Let's just say the back catalogue is extensive.

We had tidy seats. Silver seats apparently. Beige buckets seats in reality, but well-positioned. I'm pretty sure that someone had lit up incense near our seats. Part of the territory I guess. It was a gentle reminder of Bob's roots and longevity.

He was announced in a similar way to a heavy-weight boxer making his entry into the ring to defend his title. The pre-recorded announcer skimmed Bob's life with intro something like 'Welcome to the stage a poet laureate of the ages. A man who defined the folk era of the 60s, who lost the 70s through substance abuse, who found Jesus in the 80s and reinvented himself in the 90s...'. There he was: 66-year old Raspy Bob inflecting away with a sensational ensemble of players who could well and truly cut it.

And we were off.

Bob and his band carved there way through a swag of songs with only enough time in between to remind themselves what was coming next. You get the feeling with Bob that the words and music are loosely connected at best. Depending on your take, Bob is either a sublime phraser of vocal lines...or he has scant regard for phrasing altogether. I'm not sure which.

It's a little tricky reeling off the set list for Bob. He can play a song that you heard for the first time when you were 10 years old (and many times since) yet you can be half way through the tune before you recognise it. I'm not sure whether every night is different, but there's a fresh interpretation both musically and vocally to so many tunes that you can find yourself mesmerised by the artistic convolution.

What I can tell you is that he and his band effortlessly sauntered through Tangled up in Blue, Lay, Lady, Lay; Don't Think Twice, Highway 61, A Hard Rain's A-Gonna fall, It Ain't Me, Babe. And I can tell you that one of the two encore songs was Like a Rolling Stone.

For the most part though, I found myself sitting there knowing that I was watching an artist who'd had a profound impact on the landscape of music for over 40 years. And that Bob had not only wandered through the wilderness in that time, but seen glimpses of the promised land. Occasionally I asked myself the question; 'why does someone come along to a Bob Dylan concert?'. Sure, the songs have stood the test of time and and the rich texture of his work has not wavered in decades (meandered, sure...but still remained textural!). I think the answer lies in the fact that people recognise greatness above hyperbole.

For the record Bob said three words on Thursday night (if we exclude his introduction of the players of the band). During the encore I was joking with Alsie (Brad's uncle) about the word count betting ring we had going at work. He told me that there were reports that in an earlier concert in the tour he had fixed on 'Thank you friends'. That's what we got—a three word count. It was plenty.

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Talking 'bout a revolution

I am currently reading “The Irresistible Revolution – Living as an ordinary radical” by Shane Claiborne. Blue Like Jazz and Velvet Elvis etc are like the PG13 versions – this book is definitely R-Rated Christianity (so to speak, you know what I mean).

I have been avoiding blogging about this book because frankly, I don’t know where to start. Every page is blog-worthy. Furthermore, the content of the book is making me deal with my own Christianity to the point where I do not feel in a position to write about what is going through my head, or my heart. I say that I have to deal with my “Christianity” for the simple reason that it's not my faith that I am struggling with, but the manifestation of that faith, what I’ve been convinced is the normal and right way to act out what I believe, what I can and can’t take notice of and just exactly what is the socially and morally acceptable distance to maintain from the outworking of the love that Jesus has given us (I say this tongue in cheek, of course - the distance should be very short if not negligible!).

So Shane Claiborne wrote this book. It’s a damn good book. It is very challenging, I’ll say it again, very challenging, for a person like me. I grew up a pure-bred; a pastor’s kid who was loved and fed both physically and spiritually in a loving family environment. I have never been underprivileged in any way. Things were never handed to me, but through hard work I know will be able to provide for my wife and family without too much care. We give of our income both inside and outside the church. You’d think that’d get you off the hook when it comes to all those bits in the Bible where Jesus says to give to the poor etc. Shane is beating that mindset out of my thick skull page by page. It’s very uncomfortable for two reasons: 1. It means I have to do something about the inequality around me, and 2. It took a book other than the Bible for me to realize some fairly important stuff about what I believe in.

Shane is young and smart, very smart. Kind of one of those guys you know would have an answer in any debate, because he’s lived it and come to those conclusions himself. He knows the Bible and has put a lot of it into action. He’s worked with Mother Theresa (or Momma T as he calls her), we went to Baghdad when the US were bombing it to bits to be with the Christians there and do church with them, he spends a lot of time living on the streets with the homeless just to love them. He doesn’t have a job but lives in a run down community in the toughest neighborhood in Philadelphia, a community where almost every person is below the poverty line, but they live together and do church together every day, as a lifestyle. The teach each others children, pool their money to meet each others needs, take care of and pray for each other, as a lifestyle. Not as a weekly church meeting, but as a daily personal and corporate mission. He does all of this because he is in search of a real Christian, and that search begins with himself. And the whole crux of the book comes down to three quotes that he uses. The first two are:

“We can not do great things, just small things with great love. It is not how much you do, but how much love you put into doing it” – Mother Theresa.

“Ask the poor, they will tell you who the Christians are” – Gandhi.

The third quote is so significant it needs its own entry on this website, and that’s what is posted in the entry below this one (the one with the Rage bit). Its this last quote which has inspired me the most. I have had a heavy heart when reading this book. I get upset inside about what’s happening to this world, about the materialistic call of the west, the inequality, and a whole bunch of other stuff. The problem is that the upset part is inside, not outside. This book is poking me very hard and relentlessly about doing something. What – I have absolutely no idea. But I think it all boils down to Momma-T’s little quote up there. Choosing to make a difference in every decision I make, the way I react to people, what I do with my money etc etc.

The US Coast Guard has the motto “So That Others May Live”. It’s very noble. They carry out every minute of their working day with this motto in mind (or so the movie “The Guardian” would have you believe). Funny thing, I’m a little scared that as Christians we are (I am) not even close to this realization. What’s my motto? What’s the church’s motto? What’s the motto for my marriage? It's all stuff that’s been poking me very hard.

Anyway. This topic is a can of worms and I have very few answers or even angles from which to debate. I am not trying to form any type of conclusion here; my thinking is far too premature for that. But I guess I’m starting to think about the change in the world that could take place with a little imagination, thanks to Shane, and I think that with the forum of readers that this website draws, the outworking of such change would be very effective for the Kingdom, and a lot of fun. Don’t read Shane’s book if you want to stay comfortable. If you’re not fond of change then I’d suggest you leave it on the shelf in Koorong (or Amazon). But in reading this I think that it should be in the hands of every Christian in the west. I say the west because after reading what Shane says about the Christians in the eastern nations, it’s definitely us who have our sock on the wrong shoe. I’ll leave it at that. Buy the book.

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Calling ye bibliophiles

So, uhh, like... what are you reading?

Garrick made a comment about wanting the down low on books before investing considerable energy in reading them––and the opportunity cost of an alternative selection otherwise foregone. I figured it'd be a good time to take a snapshot of what the Cacophonites are reading right now. So:

• what are you reading?
• give us your take on its merits (but don't spoil it)
• who do you think would dig it?

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New Norcia Reflections: Confession

I read through a book today titled 'Confessions of a Pastor' by Craig Groeschel. Perhaps inspired by one of the 100 things you should do in your life post (Read through a book in one sitting) or, more likely, because I simply had the opportunity.

Groeschel, Senior Pastor at LifeChurch, comes clean about a bunch of stuff. The sub-title, 'Adventures in dropping the pose and getting real with God' gives you some idea where the book heads. In 10 chapters he confesses to plenty with chapters like: I Can't Stand a Lot of Christians; I Have to Work Hard to Stay Sexually Pure; Most of the Time I Feel Incredibly Lonely; I Hate Prayer Meetings; I Stink at Handling Criticism and I'm Afraid of Failure.

It's well worth a read. And it got me thinking. I write from New Norcia Benedictine Community - a community where confession is fundamental to spiritual wholeness. It's not a 'hang it out there' kind of confession that's broadcasted on your local Christian TV channel, but it's a 'deal with it and move forward' kind of confession.

Confession and repentance go hand in hand. Often they work together or are the catalyst for one another. Confession is only purposeful in concert with repentance (I'll have to have a think as to whether I agree with that last sentence later). Talking about it without the intent and desire to turn in another direction becomes hollow. John the Baptist preached to that end in Luke 3:8 saying 'produce fruits worthy of your repentance'.

What I discovered again as I read through Confessions is that as we drop the pose, as we become more transparent, and as become more vulnerable, we simultaneously become more human. Our bravado and our charade hides our reality and before too long we can forget who we are beneath the layers of try-hard effort.

As we drop the pose we also allow God to work in and through us. It's hard (or impossible) for God to work in and through our charade...He can break in on it but not work on it. After all, it's not us to start with! When we get real though, when we get repentant, we give God a shot at transforming us.

I've always thought that the Bible verses that become our life verses can say as much about our own condition as they do about Jesus' saving grace.

I'm often writing about Galatians 6:4-5 which says: 'Make a careful exploration of who you are and the work you have been given, and then sink yourself into that. Don't be impressed with yourself. Don't compare yourself with others. Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life.'

Many times a week I wake up or go to sleep recounting Psalm 139. Aside from being a beautifully poetic Psalm, it reminds me that I'm treasured by my heavenly Father.

Here's the thing: within those two passages are three of my confessions.

First, I compare myself to others more than I ought - that's why I need to remind myself not to and remind myself that it's about what I'm meant to be doing more than what you're meant to be doing!

Second, I tend towards extremes. It's probably why I write so many posts under the 'Strenuous Wholeness' label. I overrate myself and become prideful in one breath, then pay out on myself and crucify myself in the next. Somewhere in between is a health that's only attained through soulcraft (strenuous wholeness) and God's love. The Galatians passage reminds me not to be impressed with myself, but to do the creative best with my own life. Period.

Third (and not finally, because there'd be much more to confess to if I wanted to punish you) is that I need to be reminded of God's unconditional love for me. Psalm 139 and verses like 1 John 3:1 remind me of this. They remind me I cannot run from His love, nor hide from his hand. 139 reminds me that nothing comes as a surprise to God and that he knows the script long before I play it out. And it reminds me that that He guides us on towards eternity.

Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there be any wicked way in me and lead me in the way everlasting. (Ps.139:23-24)

Our openness before an omniscient God isn't really hanging it out there too much. It's ourselves we risk being honest with. The upside is tangibly huge...

How about you? Any life verses to get out there? Any confessions that could move you towards an authentic humanity in Christ?

Just wondering...

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Cacophony Review: Chasing Lions

What Lion is God calling you to chase? It's the question In a Pit with a Lion on a Snowy Day heads towards from its first page. Based on memorable titles alone, the book has kicked truly. The author, Mark Batterson, whose blog we feature on Cacophony, and who pastors National Community Church in Washington DC, begins with a seemingly random verse from 2 Samuel 23:

Benaiah son of Jehoiada was a valiant fighter from Kabzeel, who performed great exploits. He struck down two of Moab's best men. He also went down into a pit on a snowy day and killed a lion.

So begins a book about opportunity in adversity, about facing the music rather than running for cover and about recognising the defining moments in life.

In many ways Chasing Lions is about risk, opportunity cost and sins of ommission. And while undoubtedly recognising the power and character-refining work of the Holy Spirit in this process, Batterson communicates in a style that is joyfully (largely) devoid of penti-speak.

Chasing Lions unpacks the obstacles to chasing the lions in our lives. Defying odds, facing fears, reframing problems, embracing uncertainty, taking risks, seizing opportunities and looking foolish are among them.

Make no mistake, this book isn't about selling all you have and putting it all on Jesse's Boy on the 5th at Doomben. It's about the God-ordained-Ephesians 2:10 type opportunities that we resist for the fear of failure. And, in some ways, it's about failing too. A question I've asked myself in the wake of Chasing Lions is 'how often am I failing'? Not spiritual, moral or character failure, but how many risks am I taking in work, in building relational intimacy, and in exposing myself to God-sized opportunities. The answer is: a bit but not enough.

Batterson casts our safe, adult, strategic lives against the unplanned mayhem of Pentecost at one point:

Here's a novel thought: What if we actually did what they did in the bible? What if we fasted and prayed for ten days? What if we sought God with some ancient intensity instead of spending all our energy trying to eliminate His surprises? Maybe then we'd experience some ancient miracles.

The revealing thought is that the more of an agenda we throw at God, the more we determine the prevalence of self and the more we cut our selves off from God-sized opportunities (which are often more daring, more engaging and more defining than anything we can come up with). Ultimately, we discover that playing it safe with God is risky. And opening up to God is for the crash-helmet wearing thrillseeker.

Batterson and I share at least one thing in common: a belief in the importance of looking foolish. To be childlike (though not necessarily immature) is to allow ourselves to see the world through different eyes, from a different angle. Batterson introduced me to a new word: neoteny. Neoteny is the retention of youthful qualities by adults. He quotes someone quite famous who said: I tell you the truth, unless you change to become like little children you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

As we see life through the eyes of a child, some of our fears and precautions are given their appropriate valence against the opportunities that stand up and bite us.

Batterson reckons that we all have a primal longing to do something crazy for God. I'm with him. We mightn't be waiting for a lion on a snowy day...neither was Benaiah. Yet he was obviously preparing for a big challenge and seized it when it came.

There's a whole lot of books lining the shelves of Christian bookstores that are high on fluff and low on content. While this won't go down as a long (182pgs), heavy-weight or intellectual tome by any stretch, there is a good balance between a call to live a life that exposes us to opportunity and a life that engages our minds at the same time.

Consider Chasing Lions a Berocca for the journey as a follower of Christ. If I was rating it out of 10 for genre, I'd go 7.5

Chased any lions lately?

PS. By the way, since he wrote the book, he's written a Lion Chasers' Manifesto which you may want to read over.

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Anti-Lent Peruvian style

Ok, so you called for it a few posts back, and I've been lazy and have had little blogging in weeks gone by. But on Monday night we found a place worthy of some Anti-Lent action....

Just back from the intersection of Avenida Angamos and Caminos de Los Incas over towards Monterrico/Surco sort of area (just incase you're ever in the neighbourhood) is the funkiest little Thai restaurant this side of the Nazca Lines. Polished concrete floors with dark wood paneled walls, white leather seats, orange lamps, brown floor cushions for those who don't mind getting low to the ground when they eat, exquisite table decorations, food presentation to blow the mind, this place was hot. We joined our missionary friends Jordan and Vaness (from Noo Yorwk, Noo Yorwk Ceedy), and Nick and Kristin (from Michigan, somewhere in the mid west where the settlers on the way to the the goldrush in California got tired and stopped in the middle of the country and planted corn or something) for a Thai nosh up that tops any Thai restaurant I've experienced so far.

Warm chicken and mango Thai sushi with sweet dips, red beef curry, green chicken curry, sweet chicken and prawn rice, Thai vegetables, every dish a party in our collective mouths! Next time you are in Lima check out Restaurante Siam Thai.

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This is the spirit of the Anti-Lent, which you have heard is coming…

Hey, not really, don’t email me! It’s just that if your Lent-ing plans involve simplicity of consumption, you might want to save this info for later. In short: here’s a review of a place I went for breakfast on Monday. Actually, less of a review, more of a rave: L2 on Market St in Freo is grand and I’m putting it on high rotation in my Breakfast Places Playlist.

Evidence for the fabulousness:
a) They took a booking for a table of 10.
b) And then weren’t at all fazed when I arrived and told them I’d had so many last-minute cancellations (because my thoroughly lightweight friends all think it’s reasonable to sleep in on a public holiday) that I only needed a table for 4.
c) Competent and unobtrusive table service.
d) They split the bill. Who does that anymore?
e) 4m ceilings.
f) Deep window ledges as bench seats. And seats that are orange. And just generally a backlit orange plastic vibe that was totally working for me.
g) Dutch chocolate hotcakes with triple cream, Kahlua syrup and strawberry mint salad. For like $12. Uh-huh.
h) They recommend matched wines. Only not with breakfast, so they don’t assume we’re all hopeless alcoholics, which is a characteristic I like in a café.
i) The muesli (with yoghurt and rosewater peaches!) comes in a gorgeous balloon glass – fine and clear, like a stemless Bormioli – that contrasts with the heavy, bright white, thick-rimmed crockery. So nice.
j) Dutch chocolate hotcakes. With cream and Kahlua and strawberries. For twelve dollars. I’m just saying.

Evidence for the naysayers:
a) I have none. Say your nays and begone!
b) OK, maybe one. It’s in Freo, which means you pay for parking. Unless you arrive by train, because it’s just opposite the station, in which case you get both a great meal and a pleasant sensation of self-righteousness as a result of your environmentally friendly travel. So really, location should be on the ‘pro’ list too.

Gosh, it’s like all the Cacophonous preoccupations of the moment are coming together at once. Now if I could just find a Manly Man to talk politics with while listening to U2 over breakfast and The West…

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Cacophony Review: Characters in search of an author

I saw Stranger than Fiction recently and it was sensational. It had enough tragedy to make it fly as a comedy and it engaged on all sorts of levels. If you haven’t seen it, you probably want to stop reading right here.

I was a tad skeptical that Will Ferrell, Emma Thompson, Maggie Gyllenhaal and Dustin Hoffman could appear in the same film and pull off such a coup. We won’t talk about Queen Latifah...

The film tells the story of Harold Crick (Ferrell), a methodical IRS agent who might have a touch of ye ole OCD. His world starts to fall apart when he's ambushed by a voice in his head, a woman's voice that's narrating his life. Turns out that voice belongs to Kay Eiffel (Thompson), a novelist who hasn’t published in a while and who really needs to kill off her latest protagonist, who happens to be an IRS agent named Harold Crick.


Through a sequence of events Harold hears Kay’s voice and sets out to track her down. In the process of that search Harold changes, embracing the life that’s always been his to pick up and run with. He fights for it. He fights against the cliché that’s been written prescriptively for him. He meets Ana (Gyllenhaal) and fights for her. He fights for other people around him. He learns guitar. And he sets out to figure out what’s going on with the narration in his head. He eventually chases down Kay, the author / narrator, and she is changed because of who Harold is and the trajectory of the story changes. Everyone changes. It’s a change-fest!

Even a couple weeks later I’m still mulling the storyline over in my head. I like a film like that – a persistent one. The biggest deal for me is how Harold’s life changes when he realises that if he cowers passively his life will be narrated to death. It’s when he comes to grips with the reality that his role in this story is crucial, that he needs to get to the author to have any hope of changing things. As a character in search of an author Harold is changed and he lives.

There’s something benign about a death-by-narration, it's so resigned and passive. As banal as Harold’s life seems at first his instinct is not to take his beating he enacts his agency to participate, to co-author his own life. Meditating on your own death helps greatly to pull your finger out and get on with really living your life. I once had a lecturer who encouraged us to pray that God would be glorified in our lives and in our deaths. There’s something so fundamentally challenging and right about such a prayer. It calls into question who you are, who Jesus is and what life on earth is all about. Try it.

Living a cliché is easy, it’s the line of least resistance. But once you see things can be different it’s pretty hard to derive the meaning from whatever it was you used to call living. Existence. Treading water. That’s not to say life isn’t monotonous and we should live on some fist-pumping AWESOME!-high all the time but that even the quotidian is infused with meaning once we know the Story and the Author. In fact the adventure of our lives takes place as we seek to know the Story is about our search for the Author. We hear Him in the tragedy and the comedy and the monotony alike. If we listen.

I’d love to give credit to whoever came up with this quote but I can’t remember where I picked it up. It goes a little something like this: Our task is to tell Jesus’ story with our lives and His resources. That, to me, sums up what it means to be a follower of Jesus. Living the gospel is not telling a new story – it’s telling a story that’s as old as history. It’s telling a whole story as well: with our bodies, minds, emotions in the comedic and tragic. It’s collaborating to tell a story – there’s no sense of white-knuckling it as we’re using Jesus’ resources.

Our key responsibility is to be a character in search of the Author. In that journey we’re changed and we impact those around us. It's in a Story that's bigger than us that we find freedom to live beyond ourselves. And when you get a community of people who together want to search out the Author... Well, that's just crazy talk! And the best part? The Author speaks.

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Label me Elmo

So... a portion of the creative genius that comprises The Cacophony Ensemble have colluded to define some broad creative parameters for the labels/categories/genres that combine to form the writings you'll find from the ensemble. Believe us, they're plenty broad.

Above all, the intention is to shed some light (however filtered, misguided or well-informed) on the noises that surround us. Sometimes as amused onlookers and reporters, sometimes as curious participants, sometimes as participants, sometimes as frustrated folk and sometimes as people with a thought for a way out of the noise.

So, the labels/categories are thus:
JESUS_is more than alright with us
RUNNING_the simplest and most efficient form of physical exercise
LEADERSHIP_without followers is merely taking a walk
REVIEWS_movies, music and literature
THE CHURCH_gentle observations and thoughts about Christ's bride.
TRIVIAL PURSUITS_random gear and curious fun
SPIRITUALITY + THEOLOGY_God in the cacophony
CULTURE_the cacophony that surrounds us
YOU'RE TOPS_there's been some fine people who've walked this earth. We pay homage.
STUFF'N'THINGS_have you seen the iPhone yet?
CULTURAL ICONS_Chuck Norris et. al.
STRENUOUS WHOLENESS_getting tidy at being a well-formed human
VENT YOUR SPLEEN_step on to the soapbox and let rip
TOP5+_FOr lovers of lists, order and clarity
PHILOSOPHY_a bunch of words to confuse, bewilder or illuminate

All of us have our different inclinations and passions. That'll be pretty obvious as we get going.

It's what we're thinking. Thoughts?

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