So if you've followed this blog for any period of time, you probably know:

• When I lived in Mount Airy I played in a fun little band called Mediocre Bad Guys.  It was a blast.
• On a number of occasions we shared the stage with the late Bobby Keys.
• While we mostly covered songs, we eventually started writing our own stuff, and it was pretty good.
• Earlier this year, MBG released their first CD of all-original tunes, of which I managed to show up on most.

And now, the latest news from the band I no longer play with but still think very fondly of: this past week that album was released digitally - specifically on iTunes, Spotify and Amazonmp3.  Before it was only available in CD form, and there weren't many to be had.  Now it's just a streaming/download away.

A few quick thoughts about some of the songs:

Gonna Get It Right - this was Doug's first contribution to the band. Doug was always keen on writing songs that best fit Les' voice, and that's certainly the case here. 

The Dance - my contribution to the group.  A more ballad-style version of this song showed up on my 2011 "Let Go" release, but we amped it up with the full band ala Jayhawks and it worked great.  Fun note: we went all "Bohemian Rhapsody" on the aaahs, where each band member recorded all vocal parts.  It's a chorus of twelve you're hearing there!

Carolina Sky - playing this live I'd pull out the accordion, but multiple takes in the studio made me realize how blasted heavy that thing is.  You'll hear it very quietly in the bridge, but Nate's slide guitar rightfully took center stage.

Cold Comfort - A co-write with Doug, which meant I came up with a skimpy idea and Doug took it and actually made it good.  This song was always hard to play live - somehow it didn't come across with the same electricity.  But it was still fun to jam on.

Virginia Virginia - Jerry nailed a great "summer vibe" with this tune.

How Do I Get Here - from the very first time we ran through this tune, to the very last time I played it with the band, my favorite recording on the album and my favorite song to play, hands down.

So, have at it!  iTunes HERE, Amazonmp3.com HERE, and Spotify below.  Enjoy the sound of bad being good!

Okay, be honest: if you somehow were able to see this picture before this past Sunday, what would you think it'd be of?  Probably some mega-church/contemporary worship service in America, complete with professional-grade stage and lights, a churchy setup, and a throng of excited, spirit-filled worshippers standing on the tips of their toes, right?

Wrong.  It's the backdrop for the much-talked about Macklemore & Ryan Lewis' Grammy performance of  "Same Love," followed by Queen Latifah overseeing the marriage of thirty-some gay and straight couples.  True, the set kind of got lost in the shuffle; the cameras zooming in for closeups on singers and performers and newlyweds.  But it was there, very noticeably there; the television audience catching it in bits and pieces and immediately realizing what would be rehashed on talk shows in the days that followed: a statement was being made.

My first reaction to the church backdrop was admittedly not a positive one, and it had nothing to do with the statement.  It was the knee-jerk response of someone who's been raised in the church and now makes it their calling: that the backdrop was just a backdrop and nothing more.  It was there to fit the bill (the tune certainly has a gospel vibe) and to somehow add an air of legitimacy to the weddings.  Which, as an aside, is interesting; since I do just about as many weddings outside the church as I do in it.  

So my initial negative reaction: it's just a prop and nothing more.  And that got me a little defensive, to be honest, because despite all its warts I personally love the church and consider it to be more than a prop.  It also made me sad, because my heart aches that a whole swath of folks have not shared the same experience with church that I have. 

But a few days later, my thinking evolved.  I thought about the fact that these Grammy people were under no obligation to use this particular backdrop.  They could've just as easily erected a beautiful mountain scene or winery landscape or personal backyard grillout or country club golf course or any other outside-the-church locale I've had the pleasure of officiating weddings (my personal favorite : two people in their mid-40's on a boat in the middle of Lake Norman. Also my first wedding).   

I also realized that this whole event - the music, the wedding, the statement - was a celebration.   The intended joyful atmosphere was clear from the start.  Macklemore, jumping up and down, noticeably enthused to the core.  Singer Mary Lambert, beaming.  Queen Latifah's smile, large enough to be picked up by satellites orbiting earth.  And, of course, the couples themselves; filled with the joy of anyone who has just been united in the bonds of marriage.  You can argue politics or theology or cultural divide; you can even argue the downside of "wedding-as-show" (which is at the heart of the "let's-avoid-the-Broadway-production" conversation I have with brides and grooms to be) but you can't argue the one thread coursing through it all, tying it together: unbridled and pure joy and celebration.

And it all took place "in church."  

I've said before that I truly believe today's generation wants very much for the church to get it right, in some ways demonstrating more hope in us than we have in ourselves.  They would love, absolutely love, to see today's church succeed in living out its mission to help build God's kingdom on earth.  And I maintain that they would come in droves if we did that.

And that's what I began to take away from this Grammy performance the more I thought about it: they were sending us a message.  A very clear and hopeful message about what they long for church to be, what they need it to be, what they want it to be.  And here's what I think they might have been trying to say to us: 

We want church to be a celebration.  And they're not talking about style.  This isn't a "contemporary-worship-or-nothing" ultimatum.  It's a deeper issue.  Can traditional worship be boring, and can contemporary worship be exciting?  Yep and yep.  At the same time, I've been to plenty of traditional services that, through their liturgy and flow, exuded joy; and I've experienced contemporary styles of worship that felt too showy, too forced, too routine.  What this generation is looking for is a genuine joy of the gathering, worship style aside.  Which leads to the next message:

We want a church that's authentic. Nothing frustrates this generation more than coming to church and feeling as if they're an audience member rather than part of a body;  an exercise in ritual instead of participants in the movement.  They want church to feel real.  And not just to them, but to the person sitting next to them - because they understand (sometimes better than we do) that faith isn't a solo excursion but a group journey. If church being "real" causes you to think about the Velveteen Rabbit story, go with it.  That's exactly the thing they're looking for.

We want a church that lives out its convictions instead of just talking about them.  The Grammy performance displayed this model as clear as day: they talked about the power of love in a song, and then they actually did something with that conviction.  Action must follow beliefs, they're telling us, or the beliefs mean little more than some common ideologies that bind like-minded people together in a group.  They like the country club when it's time to play golf with their buddies or go swimming with a few families on a hot summer day.  But when it comes to making a difference in the world, the country club won't cut it.  The church needs to.

We want a church that loves and accepts everyone - even us, and especially those not like us.  Granted, not every church is ready for this.  And there's the rub.  Still, this generation will make a pretty good case that doing so is following in the footsteps of Jesus himself.  Disagree?  You can certainly argue it.  What you can't do is ignore it.

Years ago, when my state was voting on an amendment to define marriage in fairly restrictive terms, a small church I would pass every day on the way to the boys' school had two signs in their front yard.  The first was a campaign sign expressing unmitigated support for the restrictive amendment; the church making clear where it stood.  The other was the church marquee, literally just a few feet away, advertising their upcoming Bible School with the tag line: "All Are Welcome."  This generation picks up on these contradictions much faster than we in the church do, and it drives them absolutely nuts.

I'm not saying the church needs to start modeling its music, worship style and ceremonies after an seven-minute Grammy performance.  Macklemore can drop a pretty sweet line or two and Queen Latifah's smile makes me smile, but I'm not going to invite either to fill the pulpit next time I'm on vacation.  And you know what?  I don't think this generation wants me to, either.

What they want from the church is faith, hope and love; and the joyful life each of those things leads us to live.  Come to think of it, that sounds kind of familiar, doesn't it?

Had a great time earlier this week hanging out with a hundred or so Presbyterian folk at Montreat for "The Blaze," an annual leadership conference for youth workers.  The conference name took on great significance (and a certain level of irony) as temps got down to digits the valley hadn't seen in a while (I submit THIS as evidence). 

Anyway, I was there because I'd been asked to lead music and worship for the evening services.  I managed to drag my good friend, former MBG bandmate and Presby-by-association Jerry Chapman along for the ride.   Along the way we picked up a few generous souls who happily donated their stellar musical gifts to the cause: Matt on cello, Jay on djembe and Bre with her sweet harmonies.  You would've thought we'd been planning and rehearsing for months, but alas, it was one of those fantastic "spirit-led" things, which is probably why we quickly earned the nomicker, "The Impromptu Band."  T-shirts coming soon.

Some of the folks were asking about the resources we used (songs, liturgy, videos, lyrics/chords, etc), so I'm listing them here.  If you weren't at the conference you're welcome to check them out anyway. All songs except "Greatest of These" were written by other people, and all the liturgy is mine - so if you use them, which I hope you do, thanks for giving credit where it's deserved.   "Let's Confess" is a song by Brian McLaren, and I shamelessly borrowed the idea of  using it as a corporate confession from Andy Acton.

Lastly, if any of you are interested, Jerry and I kinda dig leading conference/retreat music together and I'm always up for keynoting and preaching too (see HERE).  So if you want to inquire about having us come and lead your event, just scroll to the end and fill out the contact form.  I'll be in touch.

By the way, totally kidding about the T-shirts. Or maybe not.  We'll see.

For once, I'm at a loss for words.

Well, not totally.  I am a preacher after all.  And to be fair to myself, it's probably still a little early to try and process all that could and should be said.  When you love people the way I've loved the church I've served for the past ten-plus years and they love you right back, it takes a while to verbalize what all that means.  So I'll cut myself some slack.

In the meantime, I'll say what I can say through pictures, sounds, video.  First, the picture.  It's the stole the church presented me with in worship yesterday - made by a good friend, nonetheless.  Music, Lighthouse, Creation Care, The Cross, Handprints, The Rock (Mount Airy granite, of course).  And a green stole, which means I can wear it the most Sundays of the year and be liturgically correct (it's a Presbyterian thing). The best part was that they gave it to me first thing yesterday morning, so I got to wear it throughout worship.  The even better best part was that, as part of my sermon (which you can read and listen to HERE), I gave everyone their own stole.  We didn't even plan that.  Awesome.

Next, sound: So I wanted to write the youth group a song, because they're an amazing group of young people who totally have my heart.  But - I would not write a sappy song.  Which was meant with tremendous sighs of relief when I told them this at their youth group meeting a week ago. Everyone was a bit emotional, you see.  We needed levity. So it was a good thing that I went for the slightly off-kilter theme song that, while certainly isn't my best lyrical work, is still one of my favorites, primarily because of who it's written for.  You can listen to the song (and even download the mp3 if you want to):

(by the way, I promise I don't always look like that when I'm singing. At least I don't think I do).

And finally, video.  So the church had a wonderful reception for us after worship yesterday.  Lots of hugs, kind words, more than a few tears, good food and delicious cake.  And the debut of the Beacon theme song, of course. They also made a point of including my wife and sons in the goodbyes, which I was most grateful for, because it's not just me that's leaving.  The church gave us a wonderful Lindsleys mailbox full of sweet cards and notes we'll treasure for a long time.  The youth gave our boys large laminated lighthouses (hence their name the Beacons) with signatures and sweet notes to put on the walls of their new bedroom in Charlotte.  And for my lovely wife, they sang a song that really says it all:

I trust you now know why these kids have my heart.

By the way, see that cool handprint guitar?  We made that at youth group last week, mimicking the handprints of all the youth over the years that adorn the inside of the Lighthouse walls.  We made two guitars, actually - one to stay in that Lighthouse and one to travel with us to Charlotte.  I'm pretty sure I killed a few brain cells spraying eight coats of Polycrylic on these things all last week, but it was totally worth it.

Like the song says, "Just know you're not alone / I'm gonna make this place your home."  PhilipDave PhillipsMatthews pretty much nailed it: home is more about people than a place.  In a little less than a month we'll be making a new home in the Queen City, but a part of us will always remain in Mayberry (hopefully not our actual house, which happens to be for sale if you're interested).  In a world where so much is fleeting and fake, this has been real, my friends.  And real stuff never really goes away.  And that is a very very good thing.