Well, I met three great people today.  i was at my favorite coffee shop, Ava (I'll include pics soon), writing, and like always, i had one eye and one ear open - seeking non-awkward openings for discussion.  So, here's a little about one of my encounters (I'll let you know of the others later, kind of funny encounters):

I was writing and sipping on a Milk Chocolate Mocha.  The amazing thing about this coffee shop is that they make their mocha's with REAL CHOCOLATE!  Amazing.  Big difference.  I'll never go back.  More on the mocha's later.

The first open door of the day was when the internet in the coffee shop went down.  As soon as I noticed it I asked the guy sitting in front of me if he was having trouble with internet.  This is always a good teaser!  You quickly see if the person will talk or not by their response to these simply questions.  

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So this is a little late. Forgive us at Conversant for not posting this news sooner. We're working hard to bring you the latest faith news and culture from a variety of different perspectives at a rapid pace but we need YOUR help. If you're coming here to read blogs, awesome, but get involved in the conversation by posting news articles and videos to our "Community Submitted News Section."

 

Anyway, as a fan of Donald Miller and of the emergent church, I think it's great that the author of "Blue Like Jazz" was able to offer the closing benediction at the Democratic Convention this past Monday. 

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Chatting about expectations is a political junky’s game. Looking for a fix of actual news at the Convention, you will hear many things about the Democratic National Convention (DNC) most of which will turn out to be false in retrospect. For sane voters—most of whom will watch the Biden and Obama speeches and little else—the substance and the abiding visuals of the Convention are what will matter most.

There are five things to look for at the DNC (and just after) which will tell you whether the Convention was a success.

First, follow the Clinton money after the convention.

The idiotic spin that the Convention is about unity is setting a bar so low that the DNC cannot fail. The Clinton machine cannot afford to look like they killed Senator Obama. They will back him with loud words. This will be viewed as “success.” You could get rich if a friend would give you a dollar for every time a podium speaker says “this party is united.”

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A few weeks ago, my cat, Smidgen, started getting "sick" in her litterbox, stopped eating and started gradually losing weight. Not knowing what was wrong, I solicited advice from Pat, my neighbor downstairs who has seven cats, and she gave me some really expensive cat food and suggested I try that. For a few days, it seemed to work - Smidgen liked this new cat food (naturally - she has good taste!) and I thought we were in the clear.

Then she stopped eating again and became very skinny. Because she is 14 years old, I was arming myself for the worst as I took her to a vet I had never met before because my vet, Dr. Rubenstein, is on vacation through Labor Day.

By the time I had signed her in at the reception desk, I was crying. Smidgen has been with me for my entire adult life. She has moved with me at least six times, and has been one of the very few constants in my highly transient life. She has encouraged me through seasons of lonliness. She has kept me warm during cold winter nights. She has made me laugh a lot. And she has provided many little lessons in God's love over the years.

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I spend most of my time in coffee shops around Portland, drinking mocha's, writing, and talking to people.  I am a church planter and my goal is to meet 15 new people a day.  Don't get too excited about that number, I fail at that most days.  Usually, I end up talking to more like 5 or 6 people.  My goal is not to "convert" people, it's simply to strike up a conversation and hope that over time I will continue to see them - overtime building a friendship.  What do I talk about?  Well, anything.  It's hard to make sure I'm not awkward in approach, but I've worked out some kinks and can pretty much talk about anything now.  

That to say, that's what this blog will be about.  I will share my thoughts on conversations I have around Portland.  I have 6 coffee shops in particular that I make rounds at.  I've gotten to know a lot of the employees and some regulars.  I've only lived here 5 months, so much of what I'll share is the things I'm learning in my interactions with the people I meet and how that affects me, my faith, and my venture in church planting. 

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My family commitment to a single car (recently enhanced by a scooter) has afforded me the unique experience of walking to work and using public transportation in Los Angeles. These street life experiences have opened my eyes to the two parallel universes built into the fabric of this city. In the one universe, life is experienced at 65mph between destinations, with the space in-between filled with death defying maneuvers and regular experiences of road rage. The 10 minute or 2 hour commute encased in steel and glass requires minimal observation concerning the world outside of the windshield and inside the “cage”, as motorcyclists call cars, music and cell phone conversations maintain a link with the protected and controlled life at the points of departure and arrival. All of the sights, sounds, and smells of street life are blocked by the protective bubble of the automobile.

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In June of 2006, Barack Obama gave the keynote address at the Call to Renewal. In this address, he clearly describes his view of the role of religion in the public square. This view is certainly not original to him; it is shared by many liberal academics. Here it is:

 

Democracy demands that the religiously motivated translate their concerns into universal, rather than religion-specific, values. It requires that their proposals be subject to argument, and amenable to reason. I may be opposed to abortion for religious reasons, but if I seek to pass a law banning the practice, I cannot simply point to the teachings of my church or evoke God's will. I have to explain why abortion violates some principle that is accessible to people of all faiths, including those with no faith at all.

 

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I have the privilege of working with Makoto Fujimura at International Arts Movement. Recently, Mako had an exhibition, "Charis," at Dillon Gallery in Chelsea (Manhattan). Below is something I wrote the morning after the exhibit's opening, when I went back alone.

The exhibit ended on August 3. However, Mako's work is always on display at Dillon, so if you are in NYC, be sure to make time to visit the gallery.

 

Sitting on a split wooden bench, facing one of three monumental gold compositions in Makoto Fujimura's current "Charis" exhibit at Dillon Gallery, I am finally able to actually spend time with the work. This, I realize, is the only way to see a Makoto Fujimura painting. I was at the opening reception last night, but as I sit here now, it occurs to me that I did not see any of the paintings at that time, because it is impossible to "see" a Makoto Fujimura painting in a room full of people and noise and wine. Last night the room was buzzing with Fujimura friends and aficionados, merlot in one hand, CV in the other. The reception was about celebrating the show itself, and the man who created it – and even the gallery exhibiting it. But to truly see the work, one must come, as I am now, alone.

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My daughter is six-years old, going on 14.  She loves to draw, laugh and ride bikes. Her favorite animal is a toucan and she has donated seven teeth to a toothfairy named “Starlight”.  She is beautiful in the place it counts, and best of all – she still runs to me.

I see her after school, and she runs to me.  Walking in from work…here she comes.  Curly hair everywhere, legs flailing, crooked smile and all – she runs to me.

 

I know there is a day coming soon when that will stop.  The run will turn to a walk.  The  smile might turn into a very calculated and cordial smirk.  And all the reckless and unfiltered love that runs hard toward her Daddy might be swallowed down by approval, acceptance and cool.

 

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Here is the latest video I've been able to put together. They really loved their Olympic results over here, so much so that children flipped us off to our faces for being foreigners and I got yelled at by drunk guys for being a foreigner. "Gadaat!!" (Not that those things are abnormal, they were just more compounded.)

 

Nationalism is so very uniting.

Even so, coming from a country that cares more about it's collegiate sports more than the Olympics, it was cool to see a country get excited about their performance on a global stage.  The guy who won the gold in judo, their first ever gold medal, got an apartment, 7 pounds of gold, and something like $100,000, and free Mongolian food for life at the national fast food chain.  Yes, seven pounds of gold.

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