I was on a road trip with a good friend last summer who’s a little older than I am.   He was sharing a story about an argument he had with his wife earlier that week.  The two of them have slept in separate bedrooms for years.  This has been a marriage saver for some couples I know.  It seems as you get older it can be hard to get a good rest sharing a bed with someone, particularly if one partner snores or wakes up a lot during the night.  So some couples do this because of love, not in spite of it.  He was getting ready for work one morning and was franticly looking for a clean dress shirt, but his closet was empty.  He checked the basement, the laundry room, etc. without any luck.  Rather than wake his wife to ask where his shirts were (in their home, she does the laundry), he grabbed a “gently worn” shirt and raced off to the office feeling quite frustrated.  When he got home from work, he told his wife the whole frustrating story and asked her where his shirts were.  “Oh, she said.  They’re in my closet.”

“In her closet?!!  We haven’t shared a closet in years!!”, he exclaimed.  “Why on earth would she put my shirts in her closet?!!”

“Maybe that’s why.” I wondered out loud,  “Maybe she just wanted to feel close to you.  Maybe she just missed having your shirts next to hers.”

I was playing at a wedding a few weeks later.  One of the girls I used to pastor is all grown up now and this was the big day when she would wed her life to a charming young man.  I watched as they said their vows and committed their lives to each other and then, the big moment!  The preacher pronounced them husband and wife, and off they went!  With a fanfare, they marched out of the sanctuary beaming with excitement, ready to begin this new life together.  First they’d honeymoon, but soon after they would nestle into a basement suite and begin their new life together.  They would experience a sublime intimacy that can only be found in the mundane.  They’d buy toilet paper and laundry soap.  They’d argue over which brand of soya sauce to buy and whether to keep the ketchup in the cupboard or in the fridge.  They would join their lives together in a million tiny ways.  He’d place his toothbrush next to hers in the toothbrush holder, and in the closet, she would hang her shirts next to his.

As I watched this scene play out in my mind, I felt a sense of sadness.  Ruth and I will celebrate our 12th anniversary this summer and while we are wed deeply to each other in all and every manner, we are a long way down this road.  We moved out of our humble apartment a long time ago. Ruth works in a hair salon.  I’m busy traveling all over the country every second weekend, trying to point people toward Christ through songs and stories, and hoping to bring in enough money to stay half a step ahead of the bank.

Our kids are growing up and are now in school full time.  We are busy with all playdates and all their other various activities.  Our son, was diagnosed with Autism a year and a half ago, and while he is doing well, and progressing marvelously, I’d be lying if I said there weren’t nights when I stay awake wondering what his future will look like.

You never think about these things when you’re 22 years old and sitting across a table, sharing a milkshake, gazing deeply into the eyes of a pretty girl.  In that moment, there are no mortgages or water heaters or autism or sleeping in separate bedrooms.  You just can’t see it from there.  Please don’t misunderstand me, our life together is good, very good!  But sometimes I get to feeling frantic and life feels heavier than it used to.  I start to miss those early days.  I miss our cozy apartment.  It was almost out of a sense of grief that the song emerged.

I wrote most of the song in one day between recording sessions for “Restless” last summer.  I played it for Roy Salmond, my producer, and he seemed to connect to it right away.  We recorded my guitar part on a little 100 year old parlour guitar he had in the studio.  We wanted the recording to be really sparse and have a similar feel to some of Bob Dylan’s early recordings.  Carolyn Arends supplied some background vocals, but Roy played everything else.  (The foot tapping you hear is his too.)  It is, by far, most people’s favourite song on the record.

When I started sharing the story and playing “Cozy” at my concerts a few months later, people had a strong emotional reaction to it.  (I generally, don’t like songs that are sentimental, but this song communicates the innocence of young love with a certain nostalgia that doesn’t seem forced or manipulative, so I’m ok with it.) After concerts I had lots of older couples telling me, “Don’t worry.  Hang in there.  Our kids are all grown up now, and you know what?  You’ll get your cozy apartment back.  Just be patient.”

I remember hearing somewhere that good writers create worlds that we want to visit and linger in from time to time.  George Lucas created a whole universe with Star Wars, and Tolkien did the same with “The Hobbit” &  “Lord of the Rings”.  We can’t move our family back into that little apartment.  It wouldn’t work.  But, as a writer, I can create a tiny world.  A cozy little apartment. One that exists forever somewhere.  One that we can visit any time we want to.  One that waits for us, until we’re ready for it again.

Listen to the song Here.

We are very close to finishing the new album. Yesterday Roy wrapped up the last bit of miscellaneous recording (shakers, tambourines, background vocals, etc.). My good friend Carolyn Arends popped in to lend her voice to four of the songs, and Glenda Rae (who’s become a bit of a fan favourite) added her distinctive bluesy voice to a few others. Today, everything’s been turned over to Greg Reely to mix. Greg is a fantastic mixing engineer whose resume is a veritable “Who’s Who?” of popular music. He’s worked with the likes of Sarah McLachlan and Coldplay. Mixing should wrap up Monday, and the goal is to send everything to the printers by Sept. 20th. We should receive CD’s about 3 weeks after that.

The new album is called “Restless”. The album covers quite a bit of territory lyrically, but restlessness is a common thread running through most of it. I tend to be a restless person at the best of times, and that’s something I’ve been forced to deal with over these past few years.    I don’t think that’s the way I should be.  I think that part of maturing as a follower of Jesus is learning to rest in God regardless of the circumstances you’re in.  I think that, but I know that while that’s a noble goal to strive for, there’s often a gap between faith as it “should be” and as it really is.   On this album, I’ve tried to write about my experiences in a way that acknowledges the difficulty of finding faith while offering hope that is genuine and sober.

But the scope of this album is a lot broader than my anxieties about my personal circumstances (thank goodness!)  There are other kinds of restlessness.  Sometimes it’s quite proper to feel restless about the world around us.  When I think of the “Occupy” movement, the economic crisis in 2008, or images of the political unrest in Egypt and I can’t help feeling like our world is restless for something better. A few of the songs express my restlessness for the Church in North America to engage with our world in a more Christlike manner. I can’t help but feel we’ve become somewhat insular and shallow. Rather than seeking to walk in the way of the crucified One, we’ve used our faith both to insulate ourselves from the world around us, and to medicate our loneliness, our guilt, and our need for meaning and significance. Insulation and medication are not bad things, but they can be self-serving and when we abuse them we end up careless and numb.

Much of what I hear in modern Christian music reflects and feeds this. Many of the songs we sing in church today are about asking God to take us out of the world. To shelter us and to be our hiding place. This new album is about asking God to help us engage the world, about trying to live like Jesus did. Embracing a restless world with hope and with grace, however uncomfortable that may make us. The point of the album is not to ease our restlessness, but rather to help us to become properly restlessness about more significant things (poverty, injustice, human trafficking, etc.).

The album does have a few lighter moments. There’s a fun folk song I wrote while reminiscing about the first apartment Ruth and I lived in, and a wonderful worship song called “We Come”, that Steve Bell recorded a number of years ago, written by his friend Jim Crogaert.

The title song, “Restless”, is a playful acoustic guitar song which really sums up the whole album. It was inspired by St. Augustine who wrote, “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in You.”.

The album will release November 2nd, 2012. Anyone who preorders the new album will get their autographed copies a few weeks early.  You can order CD’s in the store here on the website. We’re planning to hold a big CD release concert with the band in my hometown of Swift Current, and I’ll be travelling across the country playing solo concerts shortly after that. I hope to see you at a release concert in your neighbourhood. If you’re interested in hosting, please contact me to make arrangements.

Thanks for your interest in my work. I really think you’ll enjoy this new album.

Sincerely,

Keith

“You’re looking a little shaggy”, she says, after sitting me down in the chair and putting one of those nylon robes on me.

“Yeah, I meant to book awhile ago but…”, I shrug.

“But…?”, she asks.

“It’s… complicated.”, I relinquish.

“Complicated?”, she asks.

“I noticed it was starting to look a little unkempt about 3 weeks ago, and I asked my wife to phone and book an appointment.  But’s she’s busy, and it takes a while for her to get around to it.  You know, kids and stuff.  This is what always happens.  It always takes 3 weeks from the time I notice it’s getting a little long until I actually get in for a haircut.”

“Your hair is really changing colour.”, she says.

“Thanks.”, I say, feeling self-conscious.

“No, I LOVE it!”, she says.

“Ha ha!  You’re kind.  Going a little grey, I know.”, I chuckle, a little embarrassed.

“No, it’s not grey,” she says,”It’s like…TITANIUM!”.

She’s getting a tip.

“So, what are we doing today?”, she asks, taking a step back and looking at me in the mirror.

“I don’t know.  I never know what to do with it.  I was thinking of letting it grow, you know?  Doing something interesting with it.  I’m a musician, I shouldn’t have hair like a financial planner.”

She tilts her head and squints, nearly mouthing the words, “Financial Planner?”.  ”Okay,” she says,”C’mon in the back and let’s get you washed up.”

I lean my head back into that head sink and for that first moment, I feel like I’m playing some kind of trust game.  She tests the water with her hand.  She must be losing sensitivity, because the moment the hot water hits my scalp I flinch.  It’s like smelted iron. “Ouch!”, I think.  ”Are you washing my hair or disinfecting it?.  It’s 10 am.  I just washed my hair.  I got up at 8:30, showered, shampooed my hair and purposely didn’t put any hair wax in it so she wouldn’t have to do this. Did I do something wrong?  Didn’t I wash it good enough?  It’s been, like, an hour since I did this.  My dandruff can’t be that bad.”

“Is it too hot?, she asks.

“No, it’s fine.”, I assure her.

I’ve gotten used to it, and almost start to doze off as she massages the shampoo and conditioner into my hair.  ”Do they bring in phrenologists at hair college to teach them how to do this?”, I wonder.

“So, why don’t you phone?”, she asks, almost startling me.

“Huh?”.

“Your wife, why does she have to book your appointment for you?”.

“Well, like I said, it’s complicated.”

She raises her eyebrows and looks at me over her glasses.  (She’s not really wearing glasses, but she looks at me the way someone would look at you over their glasses, if they were wearing glasses.  Which she’s not.)

We move over to the chair and she starts cutting and trimming and thinning.  I’m proud to be almost 35 years old, and I actually have to get my hair thinned-out.

“I have this thing.”, I say.  ”I just… can’t… phone.  You know?  It’s like ordering pizza.  I get all frozen up.  It takes me 15 minutes to decide on what pizza to get everyone, and then I can never remember what size we got last time, and whether it was enough, and then I phone and they ask ‘Have you heard about our specials?’ which further confuses things, and then when I tell them I want a 15 inch… and then they say, ‘You mean and Extra-Large?’.  See?  Cuz 15 inches sounds like just enough, but then when they call it an Extra-Large…”,  I sigh.  ”So, I just can’t do it.  I have to get my wife to call.”

“Ha ha!  You sound just like my husband”, she says.  ”He does the same thing.”

“See?!”, I cry, “So you understand?”.

“No way.  He’s crazy.”, she laughs.

She turns on the clippers and starts raking around the back of my neck.  Then she gets out that ridiculously soft brush with the white bristles that every hairdresser has.  I need to get one of those brushes.  She sweeps the hair from the back of my neck, my ears, and my face.  ”Now is when you need to wash my hair.”, I think to myself.

She styles my hair and asks if I want any ‘product’ in it.  ’Product’?  My mind races through a grocery store of a thousand different possible ‘products’ she could mean.  Everything from drugs to guacamole.  ”Sure, just some gel.”, I say.

She takes off the nylon robe, sweeps all the hair from around the chair into a little pile, and we head to the till.  ”Do they throw out all that hair?”, I think to myself.

I pay for the haircut, and leave a tip for the “titanium” comment.  We avoid eye-contact while the debit machine does its thing.

“So, do you want to book for next month?”, she asks.

“What?”, I ask, confused.

“Do you want to book ahead, so your wife doesn’t have to call?”, she suggests.

“Uh….no….,” I hesitate,”I don’t think so.”

“Oh? How come?”, she asks.  She knows me well enough to know this is gonna be good.

“See,… I’ve thought about it.  But then I think, ‘What if my hair doesn’t grow as fast?’, you know?  Like, does your hair grow at a constant rate, or does it vary?  Maybe it depends on diet, and exercise or temperature.  Does your hair grow faster or slower in the winter?  I’d just hate to book a hair appointment for, say, a month from now, only to show up and not really need one yet.”

“Does your hair grow at the same rate…?”, she asks.  Baffled.

I shrug.

“Okay… Well, here’s my card, in case you change your mind.”, she says, shaking her head

“Yeah. Thanks…. Maybe next month?”

She smiles.

The bell over the door jingles as I exit.

One week from today I’ll be sitting in Roy Salmond’s studio digging into my third studio album.  I have to confess, I never believed I’d be doing a third album.  When I did “Broomtree” in 2007, I was happily pastoring and thought an album might be the way to get this whole “music thing” out of my system.  When I did “Rumours of Light” in 2010, I thought it was going to be a bookend on this little hiatus.  But now, gearing up to do this third album, things have changed.  I have resigned to the fact that I’m not a pastor taking a break from church ministry to take an extended sabbatical as an itinerant music minister.  I am a singer/songwriter with a small but very loyal and supportive fan base who is embarking on the next stage of what promises to be a long exciting journey.  God’s grace and your support have made this possible.

In the past few weeks since announcing the studio dates, there’s been a great outpouring of excitement, enthusiasm and generosity.  What a blessing!  Despite my attempts to deny it, I am an affirmation junkie and the support and encouragement I’ve received in the last few weeks has had me over the moon with joy and courage.  Thank-you!

Roy and I haven’t talked about album titles or anything like that yet.  It’s a bit premature.  But I’m thinking of calling the new album “The House With the Sunflowers”.  It’s the title of one of my new songs.  A lot of the songs so far have to deal with my uneasy sense that there’s a growing gap between what we in the West in this moment in history call “Christian” and the life of Christ.  It all started with a quote I read in a book by Miroslav Volf, a Theology professor at Yale University Divinity School.

A native Croatian, Volf returned to the former Yugoslavia in the early 90’s.  There he was confronted with the dilemma of how to look a Serbian in the face, in the wake of the war and genocide that had been waged between his people and theirs, and offer genuine forgiveness and reconciliation.  His book, “Exclusion and Embrace” is a rigorous theological exploration of the resources which exist in the gospel that make reconciliation possible.

Holy Week began on Sunday, and I’ve offered up two of my songs as a Free Download for the week.  “Fade”, from the album “Rumours of Light”, and “Streets of Jerusalem”, from “Broomtree”, were both written as meditations on the events of Holy Week.  You can get them both for free on Bandcamp.

Song story #2 (Streets of Jerusalem):

Of all the songs I’ve written, “Streets of Jerusalem” is probably the one most people associate me with.  I haven’t put it on the shelf for the past few months now, but for the longest time I played it every night.  And if I didn’t, someone would be sure to request it.

I wrote “Streets” in late August of 1998.  I was in college in those days and I had just come home from internship.  I think I was working as a youth pastor, part time, and I’d agreed to help with the skits for vacation bible school.  I remember it being a beautiful summer afternoon and I had shown up early at church for a drama practice.  As I sat in the sanctuary, waiting for the others to show up, I remember looking at the piano and thinking, “Boy, I wish I knew how to play.” (I’m strictly a guitar player and can’t even pick out Chopsticks on the piano).  Now whether I prayed that, or just wished it, I don’t recall, but I do remember sitting down at the piano and almost immediately stumbling onto the familiar melody line.  It just kind of came to me, and I was sort of mesmerized by it.  Simple, pretty, sad, yet hopeful.  The other actors showed up about 5 minutes later and we started our practice right away, but the melody tugged at me all day.

Late that evening, as I was getting ready for bed, I was reading a devotional book that my friend John Patterson gave me on internship.  It was Max Lucado’s “No Wonder They Call Him the Savior”, a book of reflections on the events leading up to and following the crucifixion of Jesus.  I haven’t read a lot of Lucado’s stuff, but I really enjoyed that book.  That night I read chapter 14, “The Ten Who Ran”.  In it, Lucado wonders what Christ’s disciples did between Good Friday and Easter Sunday.  Where did they go, what did they feel?  He writes,

“I have wondered where they were when the sky turned black.  I’ve wondered, were they near the temple when the curtain ripped or near the cemetery when the graves opened?  I’ve wondered if any of them even dared to sneak back up to the hillside and stand at the edge of the crowd and stare at the three silhouettes on the hill.” (pg 73)

Scripture is silent and all of this is, of course, left to speculation.  I think the thing that I connected with was the realization that for 2 days, the disciples didn’t know how the story would end.  We have the privilege of reading the Gospels and skipping past that part to the happy ending, but they didn’t.  They had to live through the doubt, fear, and uncertainty in a way that we seldom appreciate.  As we read it, the text moves us quickly from crucifixion to resurrection with no mention of what happened in between.  Tradition tells us that two of the Gospels (Matthew and John) were written by the disciples and another was written Mark who, we’re told, was writing down the memories of Peter.  Strange that none of them should write anything about what happened during those two days.  Or maybe not.  Maybe they felt too shameful for doubting Jesus.  Maybe they were too embarrassed to tell us.

That Saturday their faith was tested.  This extraordinary man, whom they’d followed for 3 years, was dead and regardless of his miracles, regardless of His promise of resurrection, even the most faithful among them would have been crushed.  I doubt any of them saw this coming.  This shock combined with fear of meeting the same fate as their master likely would have caused them to run and hide, or to go back home.  But how could you just go home after spending 3 years with Jesus?  Lucado suggests, there was something about Jesus that drew them all back, and by Sunday night they had all come and were sitting around the Upper Room.

“So they came back.  Each with a scrapbook full of memories and a thin thread of hope.  Each knowing that it is all over, but in his heart hoping that the impossible will happen once more.  ‘If I had just one more chance.’

There they sat.  What little conversation there is focuses on the rumors of an empty tomb. Someone sighs.  Someone locks the door.  Someone shuffles his feet.

And just when the gloom gets good and thick, just when their wishful thinking is falling victim to logic, just when someone says, ‘How I’d give my immortal soul to see him one more time,’ a familiar face walks through the wall.”  (pg. 73)

I sat at the piano and finished the song that night.  “Streets” took a long time to grow on me.  Initially, I didn’t really think much of it, and considered scrapping it.  “Fade”, the song I wrote about yesterday, was actually a later attempt to try and write a better “Streets of Jerusalem”.  “Streets” is a reminder to me that your intuitions as a writer are sometimes way off.  It wasn’t until I started sharing the song with people that I realized its importance.  This song went on to open a lot of doors of opportunity for me over the years.  More than any other I’ve written.  Most notable was a large youth conference that year at college, where I played it for about 1,000 people.  At the risk of sounding dramatic, I can’t imagine how much different the direction of my life would have been if that song had been filed in the wastebasket.

My first recording, a demo tape called “Pile of Stones” featured a live recording from the youth conference.  I recorded it on another demo called “Saturday” and then again on my first studio album, “Broomtree” (when I was getting ready to record “Rumors of Light”, one friend remarked, “You’re not gonna put “Streets of Jerusalem” on this one too, are you?).  Despite my protest Jonathan, my producer, insisted I play piano on the “Broomtree” version, so that’s me you hear.

The song is about hope, particularly about hope in the Resurrection.  The belief that God can intervene in the midst of a bleak situation.  I suppose the reason the song has resonated with so many people over the years is because it tells this story which speaks both to our imagination and to our experience.  We must imagine what those men experienced since scripture doesn’t tell us, and yet we know all too deeply.  We’ve all had times when our faith has worn thin.  We’ve all had times when the circumstances that surround us shouted louder than that still, small voice.  As Lucado puts it, “We’ve all walked the Streets of Jerusalem.”

I’m posting again this week after the enthusiastic response to last week’s post.  In fact I hope to post twice.  Holy Week began on Sunday, and I’ve offered up two of my songs as a Free Download for the week.  “Fade”, from the album “Rumours of Light”, and “Streets of Jerusalem”, from “Broomtree”, were both written as meditations on the events of Holy Week.  You can get them both for free on Bandcamp.

Song Story #1 “Fade”:

People always ask whether the music or the lyrics come first.  It’s often presented as a sort of chicken/egg situation.  For me, songs usually start as a feeling.  Sometimes the feeling can be expressed in words, sometimes it too deep for words and it just comes as melody.  But there’s often a certain amount of brooding that has to happen before either the music or the words start to appear.  I will feel something and then I’ll have to let it stew, sometimes for days, and then almost as if by magic it’s just…there.

“Fade” happened like that.  I was in Calgary, laying on a friend’s hide-a-bed.  I’d been doing music full time for about 8 month and the thought of continuing on indefinitely without a regular paycheck was starting to hit home and, frankly, it terrified me.  Around that time a good friend, who’s a pastor in Calgary, was looking to hire a new worship pastor and he contacted me.  So I did what I always do when uncertainty hits.  I panicked and jumped toward the first life raft.  He invited me out for a week to meet folks and have a series of interviews.  I went out, spent time with them, and as much as it all seemed like a good fit, something just wasn’t sitting right.  One afternoon, while I was laying on the hide-a-bed praying for direction, the real reason I was there came to light.  Fear.

I believe in a personal God.  I don’t believe He’s the silent type, even though I can’t blindly believe all the things people claim He’s said to them.  So instead of saying He spoke to me in that very profound moment, let me say I believe that if God were to speak to me, He would have said, “Keith, what are you doing here?  Are you here out of fear?  Because I’ve not called you to live in fear.  The scriptures say, ‘The righteous will live by faith.’”  And so I was caught.  I knew I needed to continue on with my music ministry.  As I warred with myself between taking the job and continuing on toward the unknown, it became more and more clear that I needed to turn down the job and keep going.  As I lay there the words just appeared and I started singing, “Is this the end of the world, or something much stranger…?”.  Immediately knew I had something.  It felt like kind of a cosmic, intriguing first line to me.  What could be stranger than the end of the world?

I turned down the position, and apologized to my friend for leading him on, and resolved to step out into the unknown.  The chorus of the song, “Don’t let me fade into the darkness….” became my prayer.  “Oh God, give me the strength to face uncertainty, to put my future in Your hands, and to trust You with all my heart.”  I still pray that prayer, almost every day.

The rest of the song was written a few months later on the night before Palm Sunday.  I had been asked to do special music at church that Sunday, and had turned it down.  I didn’t have anything new written, at least nothing appropriate for Holy Week, but that night I sat down and the rest of the story came together.  I performed it the next day and it went over really well.  I wrote the verses from the perspective of one of the three disciples watching Jesus agonize over the coming crucifixion in Gethsemane, and trying desperately to stay away.  I’ve always imagined it was John, for some reason.

The chorus, which I’d written earlier was obviously a prayer, but as I thought and wrote, I realized it wasn’t only my prayer.  All who have truly walked the walk of faith have had to pray that prayer.  So in the song, John is praying it, and then he’s watching Jesus pray it.

As far as the song is concerned, the prayer is never really answered.  It doesn’t really resolve.  There’s a pressure I feel sometimes as a Christian and a songwriter to make everything resolve or to end on a high note, but I felt like I resisted that in this song.

I don’t remember much about recording this song, in particular.  I’d been playing it live for so long, we kind of breezed through it.  I do remember Glenda Rae bringing her soulful voice to the background vocals, and I remember Brian Chan playing cello. (I LOVE cello and if I were producing, we’d probably have it on every song. Which I why I don’t produce.)

This is one song I’ve written that I never seem to grow tired of.  I sing it all the time to myself, and if I’m playing in a church service and only have one song to play, this is usually the one I play.  I’m really proud of it.

I like that it seems to connect with people.  Everyone faces times of uncertainty, whether  they’re part of the persecuted church, suffering in a prison somewhere, or a business owner trying to weather an economic downturn, or a parent trying to raise their kids.  We all have times when things get difficult, and we feel like bailing-out.  Even Jesus prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me.” (Matt. 26:39)

One of the most beautiful reminders of Holy Week is that in Christ, God not only suffers for us, but with us.  He is intimately familiar with doubt and fear and uncertainty.  Knowing that, allows me freedom to write songs like “Fade”, to feel fear, to pray prayers that don’t resolve.  Knowing that, gives me faith and strength to press on.

(Look for another post in the next few days, where I’ll tell the story behind “Streets of Jerusalem.  Both songs are available for free download for a short time on Bandcamp.)

Today is Tuesday, and pastors everywhere are back in the office after their “day-off”. Most pastors take Mondays off which is lousy. No one else takes Monday off, so all of their friends and family are usually at work/school. Usually, the only other people they can connect with on a Monday are other pastors, but who wants to talk “shop” on their day off? So they usually spend the whole day alone, trying to find something fun and edifying to do, which seldom works, and just leaves them feeling frustrated. Tuesday comes with mixed feelings since they don’t get back to the office feeling rested, but there is at least some sense of relief in knowing what to do with yourself rather than sitting at home channel-surfing or wandering aimlessly around the mall looking at “stuff”.

So Tuesday it is, you’re a pastor, and here you are back in the office. Doubtless, you have meetings to schedule, people to counsel, email to answer, sermons to write, (musicians to phone back!!!!!) and all the myriad other tasks involved with leading and feeding your congregation. I understand the demands on your time and some of the things that weigh on your mind, but I have a request. (No, not to book a concert. Well,… yes, but that’s for another time.) While you’re planning this Sunday’s service, would you arrange to include a scripture reading (2 would be great), and take time to teach us how to pray?

Lately people have been asking me about the state of worship in the church. A lot! For awhile, I couldn’t figure out why. Although I did serve as a worship pastor for 5 years before I found myself in the middle of my present ministry as an itinerant singer/songwriter, that hardly makes me any kind of expert. But, I suppose I’ve been around a lot. I’ve visited around 200 churches across Canada during my travels over the past 4 years. I’ve heard a lot of announcements, heard a lot of sermons, and listened to a lot of worship teams. I’ve been to a few Mega-churches and to a number of really small churches (mini-churches?). So I guess that gives me a bit of a unique perspective. The more people ask, the more I think about it, and I’ve noticed a few trends emerging. I was sharing these thoughts with a good friend a little while ago, and he convinced me to write them down.

To give you a bit of context, let me tell you where I’ve come from. I came to faith when I was 16 in a little Baptist church in Regina in the mid-nineties. Up until that point I’d had very little exposure to church except for the odd service at the Orthodox church my grandparents attended. Most of that was in Ukrainian. The “worship wars” were in full swing when I started attending, but at that time we were only just starting to use guitars in the services at our church. I was fortunate in that my first experience with church was a very good one. What continually drew me back, Sunday after Sunday, was not the “guitar music”. although I found that much more easy to sing and understand than the hymns which had been a staple before I got there. but the liturgy.

The Baptist tradition is a relatively diverse one. A Baptist church can be anywhere along a spectrum from charismatic and almost indistinguishable from a Pentecostal church on one end, to very liturgical and almost indistinguishable from an Anglican church on the other end. The church I attended was on the liturgical end of the spectrum. We started the service with a Call to Worship and an invocation. A proper one. Usually a reading from the Psalms or another portion of scripture. After that, we’d sing a few carefully chosen hymns & choruses followed by the prayer of confession.

It’s hard for me to overstate the importance of having a regular Prayer of Confession. Including it in worship does at least two things. First of all, practicing a regular discipline of confession will lead to spiritual health, both corporately and individually. Confessing regularly helps us to keep “short accounts” with God. Rather than waiting until we’ve done something wrong to confess, regular confession makes it easier to identify attitudes and motivations before they lead to destructive action. Taking time for regular reflection and introspection nurtures and sustains an attitude of humility. Our churches would all be a lot healthier if everyone were a lot more humble, since it is in being forgiven that we learn to forgive. ??Secondly, when followed with an assurance of Pardon, it serves to communicate the gospel in its simplest form. Namely, that our sin separates us from God, but by repenting from our sin and clinging to Christ, we are reconciled to Him. I don’t remember hearing a “Gospel Message” during the first 4 months I attended church, but the regular rhythm of confessing and receiving pardon every week taught me the Gospel because I was, in essence, acting it out.

After the prayer of confession there was usually another song or two, followed by the offering, special music, children’s song & story (what ever happened to that?) and the Prayers and Petitions. The importance of having corporate prayer for one’s church family, community, city, country and the wider world to draw one’s attention off of themselves and toward the needs around them should be obvious, and has probably been discussed elsewhere. One of the most meaningful aspects of both the Prayers and Petitions and the Prayer of Confession at my church was the time of silence given at the end of the corporate prayer to offer individual prayers. It’s a proven principle in education that if you want someone to really learn how to do something, you need to tell them how to do it, then show them, then give them a chance to try it out. Doing corporate prayer in this way was literally how I learned to pray. ??The final element that we had every Sunday was not one, but two scripture readings. Usually one Old Testament reading and one from the New Testament. One of these would have been the text for the sermon. The other would have been a secondary text, or at least an alternate text that provided the context for the first text. Now read this very carefully, because it’s important. I can’t think of a single church that I’ve visited in the last year and half that’s had a scripture reading. Not one! I keep trying to find an explanation for this (pastor is busy, can’t find readers, service is too full, desire to keep the service seeker-oriented, etc.), but none of these are really sound reasons.

I recently finished reading “The Last Word”, an excellent book on understanding scripture by eminent scholar and Bishop of Durham, N.T. Wright. He concludes the book by arguing that if we claim to be a people whose belief rests on the foundation of scripture and who submit to scripture as our final authority, then the public reading of scripture must be central to our worship. It’s hypocritical for a church to refer to themselves as “bible-believing” to forsake the public reading of scripture. Ironically, many of the traditions whom evangelicals consider to have wandered away from orthodoxy faithfully read the scriptures every Sunday as part of their liturgy.   In contrast, evangelical churches seldom read scripture.  At most, the preacher might read the relevant portions during their sermon. But that’s not the same thing. There need to be times when we allow scripture to speak for itself. Do we really believe in the power and the authority of scripture if we can’t read it without felling the need to comment on it? So pastors and church leaders ask yourselves, “What is central to our worship as a church? Scripture, or the preacher’s interpretation of it?”. Scripture itself commands us, “Devote yourself to the public reading of scripture.” (1 Timothy 4:13)

I used to be responsible for planning the services at my church. I know how these things get squeezed out. There’s a missionary couple home from the field who want 10 minutes to share about their ministry, or a promo video, or a guest musician. And you know why prayer and scripture are the easiest to leave out? Because no one will notice. At least not right away. But lead a church five or ten years without corporate prayer and scripture reading and soon you’ll have a church of prayerless biblically illiterate Christians, and then everyone will notice.

So please, as you sit in the office this Tuesday, think about Sunday, and carve out some time in the service to pray with us, and read the scriptures to us. Thanks for all you do.

Sincerely,

Keith

Hi Folks!

I’ve been holding off on sending an update longer than I normally would have because there’s been some exciting news brewing, but it hasn’t been ready to share until now.  First, a bit of the backstory.

Backstory:

3.5 years ago, I resigned from my position as a pastor to begin this new itinerant ministry.  What an adventure!  It’s been a great ride.  Over the past 3.5 years I’ve travelled thousands of kilometers, visited hundreds of churches, played hundreds of concerts, and met thousands of new people (I don’t even want to guess how many times I’ve played “June” or told my dumb wrestling story).

But none of this has come without a cost.  We’ve had to endure long stretches with little or no income.  Sometimes concerts have been poorly attended and it’s actually cost me to go and play.  Making albums is expensive, and we’ve had to bear those costs personally.  In some cases, I’ve picked up work in the oilfield or mowing lawns just to be able to keep doing this.  I’ve had many moments during those lean times when I’ve had to ask myself, ” Am I fooling myself? Is this the end?”

I had a day like that this past September.  Despite having a busy summer, my fall touring schedule was looking like it wouldn’t come together.  We’d already been on a bit of a knife’s edge, financially, since we released “Rumours of Light”.  I was considering turning the lights off and closing the door.  Then in the midst of the uncertainty, the phone rang.  It was Roy Salmond (Roy, you may remember, served as executive producer on Broomtree.).  Carolyn Arends had been after him to listen to “Rumours of Light” again.  He called to say he loved what I did on “Rumours of Light” and that he wanted to do another record with me.  When I told him a new album was out of the question, given our present financial situation, he said, “I have an idea”.

The News:

I won’t bore you with all the details, but the short version of the story is that we have been brought under the banner of Incarnation Ministries. ”Incarnation Ministries is a Canadian charity that exists to help support the work of artists which reflects the truth of life within the Trinity so that it may redeem both the Church and society through the thoughtful soul-sharpening art.” Incarnation has offered to receive donations on my behalf to help me raise money for the rest of the expenses (about $15,000).  After the album is completed, Incarnation will continue to receive donations on my behalf to help subsidize the ongoing costs of touring and concert promotion so that my ministry can expand the breadth and depth of its reach.  So, depending on the level of interest and support we receive, I plan to be back in studio recording a new album as soon as January.

Over the past 3.5 years, two things have become clear. First of all, that my work as an itinerant singer/songwriter should continue, as it has value in the way it encourages and inspires people both inside and outside the church. It is making a tangible difference in people’s lives.  One concert-goer wrote to tell me how one concert had served as a catalyst to bring about healing in his marriage,

“Our marriage was in a state where … between her anger and my defensivess and shame nothing was getting dealt with.  I believe that the spirit of God joined us during Keith’s concert and remained with us the rest of the night.  We took it all on when we got home after the concert, I was amazed by grace and forgiveness…seriously I was shocked and broken.  In the end, we both knew that I needed to be a better man.  I stilldraw courage from the line, “what could I be if you had Your way with me?”…well I am beginning to learn.” (Shared with permission)

The second thing that’s become clear is that we simply can’t continue to tour and make new recordings without financial help from donors and regular supporters.

If you have benefited from my ministry, would you prayerfully consider making a one time donation toward this new album and my touring ministry?  Or would you consider becoming a regular supporter?

Incarnation Ministries will offer a tax receipt for Canadian Residents who make a donation of $50 or more, and one hundred percent of your donation will go directly toward my ministry.

To make a donation, mail your cheque to:

INCARNATION MINISTRIES,

Suite 2620, 1055 West Georgia Street

Vancouver, BC

V6E 3R5

Please make cheques payable to “Incarnation Ministries” and indicate “For Keith Kitchen” on the memo line.

Thank you for allowing me share this exciting news with you.  I feel awkward writing so personally about finances, and I appreciate you letting me share so frankly.  I don’t intend to pester people regularly with requests for money.  I have always felt that this ministry’s existence should be based largely on demand, and so our focus will still be on playing concerts and making albums.  Donations should only serve a supplemental role in the work we’re trying to do.

Thanks again for considering your part in this.

Sincerely,

Keith

They say most independent businesses fail within three years.  I’m so happy to say that, as of today, we’ve officially avoided becoming a statistic. It was three years ago, today, that I packed up my office at the church where I’d been serving as youth and worship pastor for 5 years and turned in my keys.  I’d had a growing sense for a few months that God was calling me into some new kind of  ministry, and while I believed that meant a different position within the same church, it became increasingly clear that that wasn’t the case.  So, I stepped out into the unknown and found myself working as an independent musician.

“Broomtree” had been recorded the previous summer, and while many people around me sensed I’d be taking this step, I was one of the last ones to catch on.  My intention was never to do this very long.  My thought was to book a few concerts to help pay the bills while we sought out a position at another church.  Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that 3 years, 100,000 kilometres, another album, and over 150 concerts later I’d still be doing this.  And while I’ve continued to remain open to the possibility of serving in a church again, I have to admit, this life has grown on me.  If you ask me, I’ll probably tell you that this all happened quite by accident.

Looking back, it’s easier to see God’s leading and provision at work in my ministry than it often is in the midst of it.  I’ve wondered many, many times over the years as I stared at an empty calendar whether we’d reached the end of our run.  But although we’ve had to tighten our belts sometimes and learn to live a little more simply, we’ve always managed to pay the bills and keep food on the table.  So today, I feel a renewed sense of hope and optimism for the future.  There are rumours of some new partnerships developing that would help us to grow this ministry and take it a step further, but even if those don’t pan out (they haven’t in the past), I feel freer to continue to pursue my calling, and somewhat less inclined to seek out security and stability.

I’m so thankful for the many, many people who’ve encouraged us, the people who’ve bought CD’s or come to a concert, the churches who’ve hosted, and the many folks who’ve put us up for the night.  It’s been such a joy to see so much of our country and to visit so many fine folks.

If there’s anything I’ve learned over the past three years, it’s that security and stability is an illusion.  Having a job an a pension will not protect you from hardship.  One day the boss walks into your office and says, “I’m sorry to have to tell you this…”, and everything you depended on falls apart.  What I do know, is that God will provide you with daily bread, and although you may not have everything you want, you can learn to be satisfied with only what you need.

I’ve also learned that you can never tell who’ll be an ally when you need one.  Many people who I expected to support or assist me were long gone when the time came to call in a favour.  But others have come out of the blue to offer generosity and support when we really needed it.  So you can’t give yourself to “schmoozing” or “networking”, since you never know who your supporters will be.  Put your trust in God to support you, and leave everyone else to do as they see fit.

Lastly, when you step out in faith to try to do something unique or extraordinary, some folks will admire you, while others will feel threatened or think you’re crazy.  Don’t pay any attention to either of them, lest your they deflate you or feed your ego.

But, for God’s sake  (literally, rather than as an expletive), do something exceptional with your life.  We only get one chance to do this.  How sad to pander to people or to chase after the illusion of security, when there is so much more waiting for us.

Trust God.  Do what He puts in your heart to do.  The rest will sort itself out.

God’s Peace.

Keith

I’ve been putting-off writing anything here for a few months.  Mostly because I want to reserve this space to write something encouraging or inspirational.  At the very least, I want to post updates about some of the exciting new developments on the horizon.  But lately there’s been little to report.  Only a handful of radio stations have picked up the new album, and there’s nothing brewing in terms of new partnerships.

The new record hasn’t garnered any real attention or rave reviews from anywhere.  One radio promoter recently told me it just isn’t radio friendly. Album sales have been alright, but nothing to rave about. (I’m not sure how to interpret this.  Truth be told, I’ve heard almost no feedback on the new album good or bad.  Maybe it’s just got something to do with the internet.  ;-)  )

We’ve been on thin ice , financially, since the new record came out.  Although I’ve just come off a busy month of touring, January was a slow month for us, and February was even worse.  All that to say, our circumstances look somewhat bleak.

On the other hand, there has been much to encourage us.  For instance, back in January, I had a man take me aside at a concert in Manitoba to tell me that the last time I played at his church, his marriage had been hanging by a thread.  Something about the concert that night opened up communication between him and his wife for the first time in a long time.  2 years later, they’re doing great and are working within their church to counsel other hurting couples.

A few weeks ago, I got an email from another man who’d been at one of my concerts.  He and his wife had just started attending church.  He wrote,” The things you said today were right on the money for me.  I really appreciated your take on finding beauty and God in the world (the poetic side of things).  …  Truth be told, up until two weeks ago I would have considered myself an atheist.  … The fact that I felt God speaking to me through music was certainly unexpected.  I have always been a bit of a snob about “christian music”.  For some reason, today I didn’t view your music that way.  I just saw you as a musician, that has a way with lyrics. … [And] today was the first time in a long time that I felt a bigger presence.

Finally, a few days ago I heard of how a young man, who’s been wrestling with addiction, felt God “tugging at his heart” after one of my concerts.  That night he made a decision to change is life and to invite Christ into his heart.

I don’t usually get to see the fruit of my work.  Sometimes a few people will hang around after a concert to say, “hello”, and “thanks for the evening.”  But I’m usually on the road again in a few hours, and I simply have to trust that my concerts have been meaningful.   To be honest, these are the only three stories like this I think I’ve ever heard.

That’s the way life goes, though, doesn’t it?  It would be easier to make decisions if your circumstances and your heart told you the same thing.  I’ve been ministering, through music like this for almost 3 years now.  And every time I feel like it’s time to quit, some encouragement comes my way to make me realize my heart’s still in it, even though my head says, “Get out now!”.  So, what do you do?  How do you tell the difference between faith and foolishness?  I suppose only time will tell which decisions were the right ones.

In the meantime, my schedule’s filling-up, and I have some concerts coming-up that I’m really excited for.  I’ve also begun to feel the gentle rumblings that often precede some new songs.  So, I trust that there’s still some life and some purpose in this yet.  Press on….

Keith