CCR and dreamland

Growing up, my best friend and I had multiple opportunities to hang out together. Once while driving around Lauderdale County in Mississippi, we listened to the radio. Dating myself terribly, We listened to such bands as Creedence Clearwater Revival. It was a big deal when our favorite artists had something to premier on that still unknown commodity known as FM radio, so when something debuted, we were all over it.

My best friend, Kenny Joe, was prone to sing along with whatever came racing out of the radio. Me? Oh that was him, not me. So, somewhere on a dusty Lauderdale County backroad, I heard Bad Moon Rising for the first time. I heard B.J. Thomas sing Eyes of a New York Woman. I heard Glen Campbell, the Monkeys, the Beatles, and on and on. Belting out tune after tune through that still unknown commodity FM radio, the tunes glided around the airwaves and into the ear as if I was in the room with the artists. Glorious times these were, before ear wax and such diminished my hearing.

But back to Kenny Joe. I'll never forget, obviously since I'm writing about it, when Bad Moon Rising glided out of the radio and sat down beside me. Or when Kenny Joe began to sing the suddenly ancient and swiftly modern, "There's a bathroom on the right." Yes, sir. CCR was warbling about someone in dire need of a bathroom. Apparently it had to be on his right, too. 

Of course, those were not the words of the song. Not even close. But somehow Kenny Joe was sure CCR had special needs, so special John Fogerty wrote songs about the pipes in their bathroom.

It was enough to make John Fogerty craft a song about it. 
This morning as I worked on bulletins and blogs and other things (B-words for $600 please Alex), I felt a need to ponder the greens around the house and/or church. 

As I went back to wondering how our luck could be quite so bad, the ground moved into early Spring and then this, this, this monsoon happened and when I went back to the office I-tunes radio was playing Creedence Clearwater's "Who'll stop the rain?"

I promise. John Fogerty was singing about who would stop the rain. I was intrigued enough to ponder, pondering enough to write about rain. 

When the rain let up, I pondered (again with the pondering): heck, WE might go under.

For no reason whatsoever, I felt like reading a Psalm since I indeed have power and Internet for a while. The 67th reads this way: "Shout for joy to God, all the earth! Sing the glory of his name; make his praise glorious. Say to God, "How awesome are your deeds. So great is your power that your enemies cringe before you."

He is awesome. He does wondrous things. He is magnificent. He is here. He is doing a throw-down against the Devil, and the Devil's tears are falling over me (that one is my aunt's).

The question remained. An important question like, does God like Beatles or Stones better? 

Now, I'm fairly certain that God is a Creedence fan because you have to be if you are all-knowing. But, He must like the Beatles more than the Stones because, you know, he is much more anyone than the Stones. Just saying.

The question then slips into how much does God partake in the everyday?

Marcus Borg (and yea, I'm aware I'm quoting him when I very rarely agree with him) "The reality of unanswered prayers is a huge problem. Think of all the people who prayed for deliverance from the Holocaust, all the people who prayed for peace and safety in the midst of war, all the people who prayed for healing or all the people who prayed Katrina veer at the last minute -- and whose prayers were not answered. And thus many modern mainline Christians have problems with this kind of prayer."

Yet, Paul tells us to pray in all circumstances.

So, why would God help me find my sunglasses and/or keys but not spare millions from Auschwitz or the gulags or Pol Pot?

The obvious answer is to believe that God does not take part in human affairs, at least not in this way. Maybe God works only through the laws of science. Or perhaps the divine action is limited to transforming human hearts, as Christian evangelist Leonard Ravenhill said, "Prayer doesn't changed things. Prayer changes people, and they change things." One could hardly be blamed for adopting beliefs like these.

Perhaps the best place to start in this prayerful discussion is with an obvious but profound fact: We can't know why God intervenes in some places and not in others. Ever. Just can't. He won't tell us. We can't even know if God had intervened. Or ultimately what intervention means or even meant. Our only reasonable option is to let go of the quest to find out, though admittedly I cling to the quest like the question is an approbate turned-away moment. My finger nails still are attached to a few moments of time as if they were ripped away at the last moment. 

Still, God playing that song on his heavenly juke box, reflected changed what is heaven-sent rain to the area that farmers needed. God might have selected B-12 before walking away from the box. But here's the deal: My prayers were effectively cancelled or ignored while he helped others, much like in a football game when both sides pray for victory God could only possibly answer one set of prayers. I had a losing equation in this 40-days and 40-nights sort of action.

But I can't help wondering if He likes Casting Crowns and/or Third Day? Perhaps CC's I'll worship you in the storm? Just saying ... while the good ship Billy goes under.