How Larry Craig Shows us the Hypocrisy of our Morality

We all know the story by now. Senator Larry Craig, a conservative republican from the quiet state of Idaho, attempted to solicit a male prostitute in a Minnesota bathroom. The problem was that the "male prostitute" was actually Sgt. Dave Karsnia, an outstanding and honorable undercover police officer (in the released tapes, Karsnia only gets riled with Craig for continuing to deny he sent the signals that Karsnia had recorded in his report -- which at one point led Karsnia to say, "I guess I am just saying that I am disappointed in you, sir." Karsnia kept his word and did not call the media and still refuses to become part of the fracas).

Sadly, Karsnia seems to be the only one with some honor in this situation. Craig has shown a incredible lack of honor, good judgment, and personal integrity. He was caught in a dirty bathroom soliciting sex from a man sitting on a toilet next to him. He tried to use his position to intimidate the police officer into letting him go. He lied about his behavior, pleaded guilty to a misdemeanor, and is now trying to blame his behavior on the liberal media.

There is no doubt: this is a shameful episode of personal and political hypocrisy -- and if there is one thing our electorate seems slow to forgive, it is hypocrisy.

But what about the hypocrisy of the GOP, the press, and the public in this mess? It seems at this point like Craig is going to be fried for his infraction. The calls for his resignation are increasing from his GOP ex-friends and the media attention continues to focus on every minor detail of the ongoing saga. In fact, from the first break of this news story, the republicans as a whole completely distanced themselves from Craig to allow him to twist in the wind by himself.

The liberal bloggers are having a field day with this, but they have a good point. Is the reason that Craig is being vilified from every side because (a) he solicited a prostitute in a bathroom stall instead of calling an upscale "escort service," or (b) because he was soliciting a man instead of a woman, or (c) all of the above?

What if he had been caught calling a service for a highly attractive, well-paid escort instead of rubbing some poor guy's foot in a bathroom? I am not saying one is better than the other (if fact, I personally hold that both are sinful deviations from God's design for sex), but it seems that our political leaders do, our press does, and we as a public do. And that hypocrisy is just as wrong -- a poor prostitute is not more evil than a rich one. A man who sells himself for money for his drug fix is not more "defiling" than a woman who does the same. An immoral sexual affair is not worse for taking place in a bathroom than in a bedroom.

My complaint isn't that we see some things as wrong -- it is that we see some things as wrong, and self-righteously assume they are more wrong. The double standards in our morality is simply a reflection of our own hypocrisy.

Ted Gets More Media with Appeal for Money

Ted Haggard, the recently un-closeted gay anti-homosexual political powerhouse, needs you. Haggard sent out an email this week to his one-time supporters pleading for money so that he could get educated.

Haggard says he needs support so that he can go back to college full time to get a masters in counseling and his wife can get study psychology. He fails to mention in his letter that he was paid $115,000 for his 10 months of work in 2006. He also fails to mention that he received a $85,000 bonus before being fired. He also fails to mention that he lives in a house that appraises for more than $700,000.


I just read tonight on Colorado Confidential that even the non-profit he is recommending people give through (for tax purposes) lost its 501c3 and is lead by a formerly convicted sex offender.

Enough is enough. Please!

I am a Christ-follower. I recently started working for my church and even more recently accepted the title of pastor. I am deeply honored to serve my church and my Lord in this capacity...but the title of "Pastor" is a weird thing. I used to not like it because I was a bit too "organic" and got hung up about calling someone "pastor" when pastoring is really a function not a title. I have identified and repented of my former ignorance and arrogance, but now find myself reluctant to take the title for other reasons.

Try this conversation on for size. I meet someone, strike up an initial conversation, find a bit of normalcy and pretty soon the question comes:

"So what do you do for a living?"

"For a living? I am, well, a ... pastor."

"Oh -- a pastor? Oh, yeah, interesting..." as he guards his wallet and slowly moves away.

There is just too much baggage...too many scandals...too much hypocrisy. I don't like to define myself by what I am not, but feel compelled to say, "I am a pastor, but not like that. I am not a radical conservative republican. I do not think the former moral majority has the corner on the ethical market. I do not steal money from the sick and old. I was not raised in a Christian home and did not spend my entire adulthood getting paid by the church. I do not think I have to be stuffy, legalistic, or separatist in order to follow Jesus. And, no, I do not do drugs and sleep with men while publicly vilifying people who do."

The Apostle Paul got ticked at the religious leaders of his day because they preached one thing and did another. They had one standard for some people and another standard for themselves. In a great twist of irony, he said that the unbelievers watching them would blaspheme the God they claimed to serve because of their behavior.

Not much has changed in 2000 years.

I do not hate Ted Haggard (or others who have fallen before him). I am angry at the way they misrepresent Jesus and those who follow him, but know that the same grace that could redeem a broken person like me can also bring healing and wholeness to him.

I do wish he would just go out and get a job, though, and quit trying to live off the labor of others... I expect it would be good for him to have to put in an honest day's work for awhile.

Baptsim -- A Dunking Good Time

As a Christ-follower and an educator, I guess it was natural that I would be called upon to perform certain ceremonies for former students. In fact, I have officiated a half-dozen weddings -- and sadly, about the same number of funerals. I thoroughly enjoyed the weddings (nothing like a front seat view of the expressions of the bride and groom!). The funerals not so much, but I was still glad that I was able to be a voice of comfort and eternal perspective to the families and friends. Funerals are particularly hard. My wife has reminded me many times that no one remembers what you say at a wedding, but they always remember what you say at a funeral!

This last Sunday, though, was my first opportunity to "officiate" a baptism (I doubt that is the right word, but you get the drift). Our church held an outdoor baptism on a local river. It was an incredibly cool setting for a baptism. The weather was threatening rain in the distance, the air was warm and humid, and the river was muddy. A group of very athletic, muscle-bound guys played Frisbee on the beach next to us while another group sat in the water on lawn chairs drinking beer. Another guy floated in the water behind us with his dog (who was wearing a flotation device). It was perfect.

Our church has been growing and we are serious about engaging the culture around us with the truth of the gospel. God has done some incredible things, and we had around 50 people getting baptized at this event. Even though we baptized a lot of people and there was a crowd of several hundred standing on the shore watching, each baptism was incredibly personal...at least from my perspective.

I didn't have to say much -- not like a funeral or wedding. An introduction, a quick question (Do you have faith in Jesus as the leader of your life and forgiver of your sins?), and a pronouncement (I baptize you then in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit). The whole thing was easy and joyful...

But it was still stirring, and a bit strange. Have you ever dunked someone in a pool and held them under water? I have -- my brother and I would get into a dunking fight every time we got in the water together. Every time I tried to get his head under water (or visa versa), he has fought me, punched, kicked, and exploded out of the water like a wild animal fighting for life. Even if I never got my brother's head under the water, there was a fight.

It struck me how the whole baptism thing is different. These people walked joyfully out and willingly allowed me to shove their heads under water. I stood there above them, watching them under water, their hair waving with the current, as they waited with anticipation for the moment when I would pull them back up.

What an incredible picture of what it means to follow Christ. Everyone knows Jesus died for sinners, but I don't know how many have really thought about what that means. Jesus was, in a sense, baptized into our sin, submerged in our moral and spiritual corruption so he could take our place in punishment. 2 Corinthians 5:21 says, "He who did not know sin became sin for us." He willingly became our sin-bearer, our substitute on the cross in order to suffer the full, undiluted wrath of the Father in our place -- a punishment we deserved and could not avoid. He was baptized under God's wrath...and in that mirky water of judgment, He willingly died to set us free. When he rose from the grave on the third day, he proved that the penalty was paid, the payment was complete and there was no judgment left for those who would follow him.

As I pulled each person out of the water on Sunday and saw them wipe their eyes, take deep breaths, and smile in joy, I saw in them a picture of Jesus. They were entering into his death and resurrection in a public, symbolic way to announce to me and the guys playing Frisbee and the guys drinking beer in their lawn chairs and the guy with the flotation-protected dog (and to the entire world of unseen beings) that they were followers of Jesus, that they believed and were entering into the work Jesus had done for them. They were receiving, not giving. They were resting, not working. In the end, their baptisms weren't even about them -- they were about the One who had gone before them in order to win for them what they could not win for themselves.

It was very cool.

Virginia's New Campaign to Attract Gang Members

Virginia announced today a change to their publicity campaign. While they are not changing their official state slogan, "Virginia is for Lovers," the tourism board has decided that they will be using a new slogan in certain states: "Virginia is for Gang Members." The state of Virginia, in a desperate bid for more tourist dollars, recently started a campaign to attract the violent gang members of the Gangster Disciples and their discretionary income from the sale of crack-cocain. "These young people have more money than they know what to do with and they have to spend it somewhere," Virginia Tourism Corp.'s Alisa Wheatly said in a statement Saturday, "so this will only be good for business here. Well, as long as they keep making their money in Chicago."

The controversial ad campaign, which features an attractive model flashing a well-known gang sign, is designed to draw gangsters who are ready for a break from the violence and the mundane urban landscape to the more rural, settling scenery of Virgina. "Everyone needs a break sometimes," Wheatly continued, "even gang members. We want to show them that they will be accepted here and valued for what they bring -- as long as they bring a lot of it. Oh, and we want to be sure they know that we have hotties too."

Not everyone is thrilled about this new ad campaign, though. The group known as Mothers against Gansters, MAG, released a statement recently condemning the campaing as reckless and inconsistent with the states broader goals. "This simply does not make sense. Why would we bring in gangsters from another state? Who cares if they bring their money -- they will also bring their drugs. It will only be a matter of time before this activity cuts into our own kids' markets adn incomes," said Martha Stew, a spokeswoman of MAG.

Disclaimer: None of this is true...well, almost. This is an actual Virginia ad campaign...but they changed all teh posters to remove the offensive hand sign. I thought it was funny.

Another incredible photo

My dad sent me a link to a slide show at webshots.com -- I looked around the site and found some incredible photos!

The photo above is one from a series that showed a sequence of how they pulled off this maneuver. Pretty impressive....both the pilots and the photographer.

If I did this right, you should be able to click the picture above and see the photo album.

Watch out for puddles

I remember a story from when I was a kid and my family lived in Oakland, CA. There was fire and mom stopped to watch it only to find me sitting in a huge puddle filled with (and covered by) black soot. Someone else noticed and said something like, "Whose kid is that, anyway?" My mom just said, "I wonder."

I have always loved puddles. I like water. The Pacific Ocean is like a big puddle, just with lots of waves, dangerous fish, and dead and rotting things.

So when I was driving my truck in a rain storm three weeks ago and saw a large puddle in the middle of the road, I simply could not resist. My middle daughter was with me, and I am not one to disappoint them with boredom, so I shouted, "Here we go!"

The wall of water was impressive. We were blinded and I am sure would have soaked someone 10 feet away if it were not already raining like crazy.

But that is when it happened. My truck died. A little sputter, a little kick, and then it died. Never one to let my daughter know I made a mistake, I announced that it was surely just the coil that got wet and shorted out. It wouldn't be long before we were back on our way.

After a few minutes I kicked it back on. Took some cranking, but it started. But that is when I first noticed something seriously abnormal. There was a knock, knock, knock coming from under the hood and an incredible cloud of white smoke coming from the tailpipe.

It ran roughly, so I drove it home (just another block) and parked it. I was still convinced it had to be something minor...how could it be otherwise? It was just a puddle!

I tested everything electical. No problems there. So, at the prompting of a friend, I tested the cylinder compression. On the driver's side, the first tested at 80 pounds...way too low, but still workable. but the last one on that bank tested at zero. Yes, zero. If you have ever done a compression test, you know a zero is awefully hard to come by. Usually there is *some* kind of pressure in there...I mean, it is supposed to have around 150 foot pounds of pressure...to go to zero is pretty significant.

Well, after taking half the engine apart to remove the head, I found the problem. W'hen I started scraping the top of the piston, it simply slid down the cylinder with no resistance. I had broken the piston rod...not an easy thing to do, but I had done it.

How, you might ask, did a puddle break your engine? Well, as absurd as it sounds, the water traveled through about 6 feet of air intake tubing, through the air cleaner, through the air intake manifold, and into the cylinders. Air and gas are normally the only things in there...they both compress to make an explosive atomized gas that makes the car go. Problem: water does not compress. So, piston comes up, something has to give.

So, what is the result?

I need a new engine. Or a new car. If you have either you would like to give me, just let me know.

Moral: Play in puddles, just drive slowly through them.