Randal Rauser's Blog, page 169

Can we handle the truth? A reflection on Lincoln Chafee’s bizarre honesty

Yesterday’s Democratic debate was a surprisingly engaging affair … even without Donald Trump. If the highlight came with Bernie Sanders’ quip that folks were sick of hearing about Clinton’s “damn emails” (a line that gave Clinton a smile bigger than the Cheshire cat), the lowlight came when Anderson Cooper asked Lincoln Chafee about his vote for the notorious 1999 bill repealing much of Glass-Steagall.

In his response, Chafee defended himself by stating he was unaware of the content of the bill he voted for, and this was excusable because (a) he had just started the job, (b) he was under emotional duress, and (c) he went along with majority opinion:

There is no doubt that the ineptitude of Chafee’s response is jaw-dropping. Admitting that you were merely a lemming ignorantly following the herd over the precipice (But everybody else was jumping!) is no excuse. And if you are ignorant of the content of the bill and unable to fulfill your job emotionally, then take a leave of absence. Chafee’s bumbling response was the closest thing to political hari-kari that you are likely to see.

That said, I can’t help but suspect that Chafee’s response provides an invaluable glimpse behind the veil. Ask yourself: how many politicians do you think carefully read and studied the Gramm–Leach–Bliley Act prior to voting on it? And how many, like Chafee, were merely lemmings?

Before you answer, take a look at the Gramm–Leach–Bliley Act on which Chafee and his compatriots voted. You can read it here.

As you will see, it is long. Incredibly dense. And seemingly impenetrable.

Kind of like a credit card contract.

It turns out (no surprise) that credit card contracts are indecipherable to the vast majority of Americans.

And even where the content is decipherable, the sheer volume of material in a credit card contract makes it impractical to study prior to signing. So we sign our name and hope for the best.

One wonders how many politicians truly find the bills they sign into law to be decipherable. Because I don’t merely want a politician who has a rough grasp of the content of an expansive bill. I want a politician who has mastered the content and thought through all the possible ramifications. I want a politician who would be prepared to give a one hour lecture on the respective benefits and liabilities of a bill prior to voting on it.

I don’t want a politician who has skimmed a quick summary and goes along with the herd.

Yet, the scary thing is that I suspect Chafee’s candor was, as I said, a glimpse behind the veil. I suspect that many politicians find themselves out of their depth when grappling with the subtleties of complex proposed legislation. And I suspect even more that the demands of the job make it altogether unrealistic to invest the time in mastering the content prior to voting.

And this leaves me with the deeply unsettling prospect that if Chafee’s rationale for his vote may be more common than we’d like to think.

A Smile Can Hide All the Pain: A Review of “I’ll Be Me”

I’ve never been a fan of country music. But I’ve long been a fan of Glen Campbell, because he was one of those rare artists who transcended his genre. In his case that transcendence came with pop-infused songs and his inimitable, rich and soulful voice. There are certain artists that are so enduring, you might fall into the mistaken assumption that they’ll always be there. And Glen Campbell, with more than fifty million albums sold and a string of hits like “Wichita Lineman,” “Galveston,” and “Rhinestone Cowboy,” was in that category.

So it was something of a shock when I first heard in the summer of 2011 that Glen had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and would now be embarking on his final farewell tour. (I blogged about it here.) A tour devoted to saying goodbye to fans, friends, and an unparalleled career: what an incredibly poignant, sad, and difficult prospect.

That final tour spanned 137 dates in North America and Europe, finally ending on November 30, 2012. And film director James Keach was there chronicling it all for this powerful documentary. Released in 2014 and newly added to Netflix, I sat down yesterday to watch “I’ll Be Me”.

The band on the final tour includes three of Glen’s children playing in his backup band as well as his wife hovering protectively just off stage. That makes it a truly family affair, as when Glen performs “Dueling Banjos” on stage with his daughter Ashley. The scene is impressive both for the beauty of the father/daughter intimacy and the fact that a man who cannot find the washroom in his own home retains such a mastery of his craft whilst on stage.

The film spans many highs like Glen’s rousing performance of “Rhinestone Cowboy” at the 2012 Grammy Awards where he receives a lifetime achievement award. “Lifetime achievement award?” Glen asks more than once. “What is that?”

As you might expect, there are also many lows, including the visits to the specialists who note an increase in cognitive decline. And then there is Glen’s growing disorientation on stage as his supporting band attempts to guide him through his increasingly erratic performances.

Along the way there are many heart-rending scenes, as when Glen’s daughter Ashley testifies to Congress about the ravages of Alzheimer’s while her father sits plaintively beside her.

The family finally decides that the concert at the Uptown Theatre in Napa, California will be Glen’s final date. Sadly, by this time his cognitive decline has progressed to such a point that he cannot understand this will be his final concert ever. Glen stumbles through this final set, glimpses of the brilliant entertainer slowly becoming enveloped in a fog of confusion.

Jesus said, “to whom much is given, of him much shall be required.” Glen Campbell was given much in terms of talent and opportunity. And while he struggled mid-career with divorces and drug and alcohol abuse, he remained the consummate entertainer. And now, buoyed by a deep Christian faith and an indomitable human spirit, he smiles and jokes even in the midst of loss and uncertainty, as he bravely faces the challenge of Alzheimer’s with the spirit of “Rhinestone Cowboy”:

Well, I really don’t mind the rain

And a smile can hide all the pain

“I’ll Be Me” isn’t merely a film about a great entertainer in the twilight of his career. It’s a film about courage, love, and redemption in the face of adversity. Like Glen Campbell, we all will have our last tour. And like Glen Campbell, we probably won’t know it when we play our last concert.  The question for each of us is how we will choose to face the music.

An Atheist at Thanksgiving (Revisited)

The sun shining through the trees during our walk on this autumn afternoon.

I originally posted “An Atheist at Thanksgiving” on November 22, 2012. I have since extensively rewritten the article (the entire latter half is new) and reposted it in honor of Canadian Thanksgiving which occurs on Monday, October 12th.

* * *

On this weekend of (Canadian) Thanksgiving I thought we’d take a moment to reflect on the idea of giving thanks. You’ve probably heard this quote before: “The worst moment for the atheist is when he is really thankful, and has nobody to thank.” Sometimes attributed (mistakenly) to G.K. Chesterton, it was in fact written by Dante Rosetti. (You have to wonder how many great quotes have been mistakenly attributed to the likes of Chesterton and Lewis, Twain and Mencken? It’s like a positive feedback loop: the cleverer you are, the more you are thought to be clever.)

However, there is a link between Chesterton and this passage, for he did quote Rosetti. And he then added:

“The converse of this proposition is also true…. All goods look better when they look like gifts.” (in Dale Ahlquist, G.K. Chesterton: The Apostle of Common Sense, (Ignatius, 2003), p. 97)

I agree with Chesterton. Goods look even better as gifts.

Take this piercingly beautiful Autumn day. The sky was a brilliant blue, the leaves rustling in the breeze, mottled with splashes of red, orange, and yellow, and the temperature perfect for relaxing on the back patio. We took a walk in the woods by our house, relishing every moment as the squirrels and beavers busily prepared for the rapidly impending winter and the Canadian geese soared far overhead in their perfect “v” formations.

In short, it was a perfect day.

Take this particular day. And in the midst of the somber pains and disappointments of life — not to mention Alberta’s interminably long and bitterly cold winters — a day like this comes as a special gift.

We all have a natural disposition to be thankful, and not simply for circumstances that we owe to other human agents. We can also find ourselves thankful for our overall life circumstances, our place in history, the health of our families, and countless other things that have no immediate dependence on a human agent … including one piercingly beautiful autumn day.

The Christian knows to whom they are ultimately thankful in those circumstances. But an atheist who speaks of being thankful at such moments faces a dilemma. Thankfulness means a feeling or expression of gratitude. But if one believes there is no intelligence superintending the events for which one is thankful — e.g. a fiercely beautiful autumn day — then to whom is one thankful?

At points like this the facon de parler beckons. By imbuing some aspect of the natural world or history with personified characteristics, we can speak as if we are thankful to some reified entity beyond the human realm. Just keep in mind that it is a figure of speech, and nothing more.

Are you thankful for the day? Well go ahead and extend your thanks. Indeed, you have your pick: you might thank “Mother Nature” or your “lucky stars” or “chance and circumstance”. Whatever suits your purposes, just so long as you keep in mind that there isn’t really any object to which your thankfulness is really directed.

Perhaps. But personally I find the prospect of a personified abstraction insufficient to meet that impulse for thankfulness.  All goods look better when they look like gifts. This day has been a gift. And I am thankful.

Do some Christian apologists spin their academic credentials?

It’s a familiar charge: Christian apologists are accused of being dishonest, of spinning the facts to suit their purposes. While I find no evidence that apologists for Christianity are on the whole any more likely to spin the facts than apologists for atheism, or naturalism, or the Republican Party, or any other topic, that hardly excuses Christian apologists from putative instances of dishonesty.

In this article I want to raise a concern about a common practice I’ve seen among many Christian apologists which strikes me as potentially misleading and thus dishonest. I speak of the practice describing one’s ministry history (often in a public introduction or website bio) by including statements like this: “Smith has lectured on dozens of university campuses around the world.”

To be sure, I don’t dispute the literal truth of the statement. No doubt, Smith has delivered lectures on dozens of university campuses. The problem lies not with the statement itself, but rather with the implicature.

And just what is “implicature”? The term refers to all that which is implied in a statement. And effective communication includes the ability to perceive implicature as surely as that which is literally and explicitly stated.

For example, imagine that Dave asks Sheila, “Will you marry me?” Sheila replies, “Dave, you’re a great friend!” The literal and explicit meaning of Sheila’s statement is complimentary, though it seems to provide no response to the question posed. However, the implicature of Sheila’s statement provides a direct response to Dave’s question … and it isn’t a favorable one!

Long story short, the implicature of a statement is important. Indeed (to borrow a dated idiom), sometimes the implicature wears the trousers in one’s linguistic utterances. The person who grasped Sheila’s literal and explicit meaning but who missed the implicature would have completely failed to grasp the substance of that exchange.

And this brings me back to the statement in Smith’s bio that he “has lectured on dozens of university campuses around the world.” The literal and explicit meaning is clear enough. But what is the implicature of the statement? And how might it be misleading?

Well ask yourself: if you hear that Smith delivered a lecture at Stanford University on the existence of God, what would you assume? I would assume that the lecture was at the invitation of, and hosted by, an academic department of the university. And that’s significant because university faculties and administrators generally extend invitations for academic lectures to recognized academics. Consequently, one would assume that Smith’s delivering a lecture at Stanford University indicated the recognition by Stanford of Smith’s status as an academic.

But what if the reality is that Smith simply delivered a lecture to a Christian student group who rented a room on Stanford’s campus? Now the picture is completely different. After all, virtually any group can rent space on campus. To rent space for an event, you contact facility rentals, and that has absolutely nothing to do with the university faculty and administration.

So consider: if Smith’s lectures on “dozens of university campuses around the world” were all at the invitation of private Christian groups renting space on the campuses of those dozens of university campuses, then all the positive implicature — the implication that dozens of university faculties and administrations recognize Smith’s academic status — dissolves.

To the extent that Smith’s invitations to speak are from private groups rather than the universities themselves, one can conclude that Smith’s bio has been subtly spin-doctored by benefiting from the assumption that lecturing on a university campus entails lecturing at the invitation of the university. And that seems dishonest … not to mention ironic given that the apologist presents himself as a defender of truth.

Are atheists rebelling against God? Greg Koukl says “No Duh!”

In a new 3 minute video Greg Koukl, Christian apologist from “Stand to Reason”, answers the question “Are atheists just suppressing the truth in unrighteousness?” by replying: “No duh!”

Fortunately, Koukl then proceeds to explain why he believes this is a “No duh!” question based on the standard Rebellion Thesis reading of Romans 1 (i.e. all atheists are in rebellion against God). And like seemingly all the Christian apologists and theologians who defend that reading, Koukl seems oblivious to the fact that his argument turns every failure to believe in God’s existence and nature with maximal conviction into an immoral instance of rebellion.

Think, for example, of fifteen year old Emil whose family was just massacred in a home invasion gone awry. As tears roll down his cheeks, Emil looks to heaven and cries out “God, are you really there? Do you really care?”

According to Koukl’s reading of Romans 1, the evidence of God is plain, clear, and overwhelming. And Emil’s failure to recognize it as such is borne of his own sinful rebellion. Koukl gives the analogy of trying to hold a beach ball under water. Just as it is nearly impossible to hold the ball beneath the surface, so it is nearly impossible to restrain the overwhelming evidence for God’s existence and nature. That is how hard Koukl believes a person has to work to retain any doubt against the overwhelming presence of God.

So is Emil in rebellion against God? By Koukl’s reasoning, the answer should be “No duh!” After all, God’s existence and nature are manifestly clear. It is only Emil’s sinful rebellion against God that allows him to question that which is so obviously true.

Interestingly, I don’t find Jesus addressing atheism in his public ministry (no surprise there since atheism as we understand it was unknown in the ancient world). But he certainly said a lot about the failure to apply to yourself and your belief community the same standards you apply to others. So Koukl is free to say “No duh! Atheists are in rebellion against God!” But if he does, he also needs to say, “No duh! Emil is in rebellion against God!”

In short, before you start condemning the sin of doubt outside the Christian church, you should begin by condemning the sin of doubt within the Christian church.

You can watch Koukl’s video here.

 

Is the Golden Rule now a luxury we can ill afford?

Some time ago Catholic apologist Matt Fradd posted an exchange we had discussing God’s not Dead in which I offered some serious criticisms of the film. A reader recently posted a comment in response to the article which included the following passage:

“I disagree [with Randal] that we should have a ‘sympathetic and a generous portrait of our ideological opponents’, namely atheists, in our times. Yes I’m sure our Christian faith should espouse those virtues, but in our present days, where our Christian faith is being attacked all the more by the powers of darkness, this is no time to be generous to those who are against us in our belief in God.”

Think about that. This commenter is claiming that Christians cannot presently afford to observe the Golden Rule in our intellectual exchanges with atheists. In short, we cannot afford to be generous and fair in our exchanges lest we thereby cede ground to the “powers of darkness”.

The irony is palpable. And the proper rejoinder is clear: he who flouts the Golden Rule for fear of ceding ground to the powers of darkness that lie without has already ceded precious ground to the powers of darkness that lie within.

Ran for the Cure

This morning I joined my daughter and Ran for the Cure at the annual Run for the Cure event in Edmonton to raise money to fight breast cancer. It was an inspiring event, with more than 10,000 people participating to kick cancer in the teeth.

I came to the event thinking that the run was a 10 km event. In fact, it turns out that it was 5 km. My bad. However, since I told folks 10 km, I made amends by running the course a second time.

Sadly I didn’t have my pink headband on for this photo…

Finally, two blog readers kindly made donations to help my meagre efforts, so thank you!

On Kinda Hoping God Doesn’t Exist

In my book Is the Atheist My Neighbor? I argue that atheists who hope God does not exist (where “God” is understood to be the maximally great being of classical theism) adopt an irrational position. So when Jeff Kesterson invited me to respond to his article “Be (Sorta) Excited that God Doesn’t Exist!”, I took up the task with interest … as well as substantial skepticism.

Jeff throws the gauntlet down early on:

“I’m here to say not only that I don’t believe in God, but actually that it’s good news for us all that God doesn’t exist. At least, kinda good news. It’s not really the sort of thing that calls for a ticker tape parade, but we all might at least smile a little smile knowing that God doesn’t exist.”

Interestingly, Jeff differs here from the typical “antitheist” who denounces God as a great evil. Think, for example, of Christopher Hitchens who intoned that life in a universe with God would be akin to being exiled into a celestial North Korea. Jeff apparently isn’t that excited at the prospect of God’s non-existence. But it is definitely something he hopes for on balance.

While Hitchens regularly confused God with an East Asian dictator, Jeff is clearer that the God he hopes doesn’t exist is the God of classical theism (and Judeo-Christian devotion):

“I’m assuming here the maximally great and moral being of mainstream theism. I’m claiming that I’m glad that the maximally great and moral being of mainstream theism does not exist.”

So how could it be that Jeff is “sorta excited” that a maximally great and moral being doesn’t exist?

Jeff explains:

“Because for all we know, there’s an unbridgeable gap between human goals and divine goals. God by definition is maximally great and moral, but as it turns out, that definition tells us nothing helpful about whether God’s goals have anything in common with human goals. And not just the goals we humans typically happen to have, but furthermore the goals we humans ought to have.”

Interestingly, I agree a substantial portion of this excerpt. After all, there can be a divergence between human and divine goals. After all, while God is maximally great and moral, human beings most clearly are not. If God exists, his goals are always in accord with the good. Our goals frequently are at odds with the good. So our goals can diverge from God’s.

Conformity with the good and conformity with God

Where I disagree is with the final reference to the goals we ought to have. If we value the good and the right, then we will believe that we ought to have values and goals in conformity with the good and the right. And since God is maximally great and moral, any values and morals in conformity with the good and right are ipso facto in conformity with God’s values and goals. Alternatively, to the extent where we do not value the good and the right, our values will diverge from God’s.

To illustrate, a morally upright person will hope that a maximally capable and good superhero exists because a morally upright person’s values and goals  will be in conformity with those of a maximally capable and good superhero. But a morally degraded criminal will not hope a maximally capable and good superhero exists precisely because this individual’s values and goals will not be in conformity with the superhero’s.

In summary, a person might rationally hope that God doesn’t exist, but only to the extent where their values and goals diverge from the morally exemplary values and goals of the maximally great and moral being that is God.

On logical possibility

Jeff continues:

“Let’s say that God’s nature/goals/actions are such that the ‘best’ final state of affairs as regards us humans is that we all suffer an eternity of the most unbearable and unremitting physical, mental, and emotional anguish possible.”

Jeff goes on to insist that this bleak outcome in which the maximally great and moral God damns the entire human race for eternity is “a logically possible scenario”.

Let’s concede for a moment that this is logically possible. Does anything significant follow?

Consider another question, this one directed to all the single folk out there. Imagine a maximally attractive, engaging, and virtuous soulmate who is just waiting to marry you. Would you prefer that there be such a person out there?

Before you say “yes”, remember that it is “logically possible” that six months after your wedding, your soul mate could kill you and bury you in the backyard. Implausible? Perhaps. But logically possible? Certainly. Given this logical possibility does it now follow that you should hope no soul mate exists?

And would you like the perfect job? Before you answer, remember that it is logically possible that after six months in the job you could be fired and your life could spiral into darkness and depression. Does it now follow that you should hope you never get the perfect job?

And how about an all expenses paid perfect vacation? Before you sign on the dotted line, remember that it is logically possible that your house could be ransacked in your absence by rabid Smurfs. So should you now turn down every free vacation, no matter how perfect, and keep watch for the rabid Smurfs?

In short, one can endlessly qualify idealized scenarios with awful “logically possible” outcomes that follow from those scenarios. But the fact that it is logically possible to append an awful outcome to an idealized scenario hardly provides a reason to hope the idealized scenario does not itself obtain.

Put another way, I’m offering a reductio ad absurdum to Jeff’s objection, for if we followed Jeff’s logic we should hope that there is no perfect spouse, job, or vacation. But that is absurd.

Conclusion

We can conclude by returning to the assumption for reductio. Is it logically possible that God might damn the entire human race?

My reply shall bring us back to the superhero illustration. Only those whose values and goals which diverge from that of a maximally capable and good superhero would hope that this superhero doesn’t exist. Likewise, only those whose values and goals diverge from that maximally great and moral being we call “God” would hope that God doesn’t exist.

As a result, being “sorta excited” that the maximally great and moral God of classical theism doesn’t exist is less a reflection on God than it is on the individuals who are sorta excited.

Songs Jesus Would Sing: 1. Tesla, “Be a Man”

These days “Tesla” conjures up images of sleek electric cars and the indefatigable vision of Elon Musk. But twenty-five years ago, the name called to mind a hard rocking band from Sacramento that made it big at the close of the eighties. Tesla is still rocking today (you can visit them online at teslatheband.com). But the height of their popularity arguably came with the release of their hit 1989 album The Great Radio Controversy, and it is from that album that we draw our first song Jesus would sing.

Even though he grows his hair and plays in a rockin’ band, Jeff Keith still knows what it takes to be a man.

“Be a Man” picks up a familiar theme: the human penchant to judge people by superficial outward appearances rather than the interior fabric of one’s character.

Jesus could really rock out with lead singer Jeff Keith. After all, folks also regularly judged Jesus on mere outward appearances. The carpenter’s son (Luke 4:22)? From Nazareth? Can anything good come from there (John 1:46)? And what’s he doing hanging out with prostitutes and tax collectors and partying it up (Luke 7:34)?

It should be no surprise that Jesus constantly returned to this theme in his own ministry as he subverted the expectations of those around him. The first will be last and the last first. The religious leaders walk on past a man in need while the despised Samaritan stops to help. The poor widow gives more with her two small coins than the richest members of the community. Indeed, the rich will be lucky to get into heaven. Blessed are the poor in spirit. And children? The Kingdom of God is of such as these.

“Be a Man” subverts the same facile judgments of surface appearances. Jeff Keith describes the life of a rocker with shaggy hair and torn jeans, the kind of person many church people would quickly dismiss as a “punk”.

But get beyond the appearances and you discover that this “punk” is in fact an honest man with a stellar work ethic who aims to “Do right by the ones you love, Always give a helpin’ hand.”

You can listen to the bluesy arena rock of “Be a Man” below, follow along with the lyrics, and ask yourself how often you judge people by mere surface appearances.

“Be a Man”

Bustin’ ass all day

Just to put food on the table.

And I always will for as long as I am able.

Done all I could,

Ev’rything that a man should do.

Still they refuse to call me,

Call me what I am. Hey!

Do you know what it takes to be a man?

Don’t take a whole lots of money,

Diamond rings upon your hand, no.

That ain’t what it takes to be a man.

Do right by the ones you love,

Always give a helpin’ hand. Yes, I do.

Now I’ve been through it all

Seen the good, the bad, the ugly.

Always take care of my share of responsibilities.

Just because I grow my hair

And play in a rockin’ band,

Old folks are always telling me,

“Boy, why don’t you grow up

And be a man.” Hey!

I know what it takes to be a man.

It ain’t the way you look

Or the clothes that you wear.

That ain’t what it takes to be a man.

Do right by the ones you love,

Always give a helpin’ hand.

I know I got what it takes,

I know I got what it takes to be a man.

So go ahead and say what you will.

Because I know what I am,

Just what I am. Ow!

I know what it takes to be a man.

I’ve got what it takes

And you know I know what I am.

I know what it takes to be a man.

So go ahead, say what you will

‘Cause I know what I am.

I’m a man.

Hoo hoo hoo hoo. I’m a man.

I know I got what it takes,

I know I got what it takes!

 

Songs Jesus Would Sing: The birth of a new series

In this post I am launching a new series titled “Songs Jesus Would Sing.” This series is borne of my general sense of alienation from contemporary Christian music coupled with my deep affinity for music played “out there in the world” and a recognition that much of that “worldly” music conveys themes which are profoundly spiritual and consistent with that moral vision which Christians call the Kingdom of God.

For some reason, this pericope from Mark 9 has stubbornly remained in my mind:

38 “Teacher,” said John, “we saw someone driving out demons in your name and we told him to stop, because he was not one of us.”

39 “Do not stop him,” Jesus said. “For no one who does a miracle in my name can in the next moment say anything bad about me, 40 for whoever is not against us is for us. 41 Truly I tell you, anyone who gives you a cup of water in my name because you belong to the Messiah will certainly not lose their reward.

In this series, I want to focus on songs that reflect a kingdom perspective whether the artists are intentional about it or not (and most are not). In cases like that, our proper response should be to fan that flame because “whoever is not against us is for us.” And the incredible thing is that the Kingdom of God is working in ways far beyond the narrow confines of our personal ecclesial existence.

The examples I will provide in this series will be unapologetically from my musical canon. For example, my knowledge of new popular music since Y2K is meager at best. I can’t name a single Beyoncé song, and I’m quite happy about that fact. At the same time, I have tickets to see “The Who at 50” in concert next year. (It was supposed to be this year but Roger Daltrey’s illness postponed the concert by six months; perhaps it should be redubbed “The Who at 51”.)

I will seek songs for the series which are (1) relatively obscure (i.e. they were never hits) or (2) relatively surprising (i.e. they were hits but not, at first blush, what you might call “kingdom material”) or (3) both.

As an example of (2), see my article “Wise Words on the Crazy Train,” which focuses on Ozzy Osbourne’s song “Crazy Train.” I was raised in a subculture that taught me to think Ozzy Osbourne was a step away from the embodiment of the anti-Christ. So how surprising it was to listen again to his most popular song and realize it gave voice to a profoundly Christian perspective.

The series will be exploring other songs in this vein which capture the vision of the Kingdom in surprising ways outside of the typical musical accompaniment of a Sunday morning service.

So stay tuned…