Tag Archives: Standards

The Play’s The Thing

Dramatic productions on Fundy U Campuses always create an odd tension as people who like to believe that 1950’s America is the gold standard for all things godly are forced to grapple with the realization that people didn’t always dress, cut their hair, or do their makeup the same way Jimmy Stewart did.

On the one hand, they tacitly admit that standards of dress are culturally relative — otherwise they’re forcing their students to sin by dressing up in costumes that don’t meet the dress code in the rule book. On the other hand, they simply can’t admit that their own culture has long since moved away from preferences and that fighting the culture wars of the 1960’s is no longer a good use of their time.

(And in case anybody wonders, I have no problem at all with the costuming here. These guys are rocking it.)

Finding a Reason to Be Offended

Oh the party is terrific,
Family, friends all gathered near
And I might be having fun too
If that guy weren’t drinking beer

But instead of conversation,
Food, and laughter freely spread
Now I’ve got to spend time judging
Preaching sermons in my head

And it’s not just booze I’ve noticed
In this gathering tonight
Do you see that woman yonder with
The shirt that is too tight?

And the music’s loudly playing
I suspect some folks may dance
At a table in the next room
I see cards, a game of chance

So…instead of deigning to partake
(Not asking who had blessed the steak)
I’ll jot down each false step you make
And calculate for each mistake
Just how much offense I will take.

I’ve got reasons.

Breaking Bad (By Being Good)

meth-bible-camp

Hey, man. Can you hook me up? I need something right now. I heard a rumor that you just got in a fresh batch of rules. C’mon man, I’m really hurting here. How about just a little bump of guilt? Just give me a few hits of those sweet, sweet standards to help me level out.

Please. I’m begging you, man. Just give me one more rule. How about give me just a ‘teenth, man. Just give me a sixteenth commandment to add to my spiritual walk and that will be all I need, I swear. I won’t do any more after this. I’m gonna get clean and go back to my sobriety of grace but you know how it is, I can’t even think straight when I’m like this.

I just need some a few more statutes and precepts, man. Help a brother out! Anything you’ve got. I’ll take whatever. A decree? An edict? You can even make fun of my clothes, man. Just lay it on me. I’m in bad shape here.

Sure, you know I’ll pay anything. You want a cut of my income? Done. You want me to work for you for free on weekends, you know I’m good for it, man. Hey, let me sweeten the deal, you want my kid’s future? You want him to worship you and love you more than he loves me? I’ll make it happen for you, man. Just give me what I need.

Just give me the guilt, man. Just make me believe I’m bad. I can’t live without it.

Yes, this is what happens when I slam down an entire season of Breaking Bad over a weekend.