This last weekend we met as not quite a team (we missed you Ingrid and Sidney!) and did the things we normally do. There was business to talk about, copious amounts of food to eat (Mckinzie chili and tortilla soup rocks), prayers to be said, thoughts to be conveyed. It reminded me very much of what a family does over the holidays, except perhaps much more intentional. I always get that warm family-holiday feeling after team meetings.

It occurs to me that this is what we mean by the "celebrating" part of our vision. Ultimately what we are celebrating is the indomitable trump card that is salvation through Christ. Pretty soon there will be little ones running around bumping into each other and making noise. When we get to the field, there will be Peruvian brothers and sisters around us celebrating in new, Peruvian ways.

There will inevitably be difficulties. Conflicts, losses, persecutions, and all the other lamentables that come with imperfection. It is that same trump card that leaves me unafraid and bold to face a city of a million people with the assurance that in front of me stands a savior with uncloseable arms.

Thank you Greg for the phrase trump card.

There is a sound that accompanies God's interaction with the earth. It's like a sea of tubas just over the horizon, or that sound symphonies make when they are tuning and warming up but amplified a thousand fold and then thrown under a blanket. It is deafening yet hidden. I think this is the sound Lewis was referring to when he spoke of being reminded of it when listening to Wagner and thinking of Northernness, or when Tolkien wrote of the West beyond the sea.

If this sound is somehow generated through us as "instruments", then I can assure you in God's symphony I am but a piccolo, or a single string not plucked near enough. The word synergy was thrown around a bit this weekend. The instrument analogy fits in perfect with that word. I guess it's kind of like jazz, where our improvisations, iniquities, moments of harmony and dissonance all gel into something beautiful -- something that will hopefully move some Arequipeños to dance.

Eralda and I have recently come to realize something about ourselves: we're cool. A highly qualified cool. A cool that is, in fact, not cool at all. In order to explain what I mean by "cool", a ridiculous moment in cinema serves to illustrate. Picture Derek Zoolander (Ben Stiller), a washed up male model who is struggling to realize that there might be "more to life than being really really ridiculously good looking", facing off with Hansel (Owen Wilson), who is the rising star in male modeling. They exchange what passes for witty repartee for a moment, when Derek loses his temper, points a finger at Hansel, and says "You think you're too cool for school... [awkward pause] but you're not!" It only goes downhill from there.

Being cool for the Tarpleys involves a certain high regard for specific artists, writers, bands, poets, clothing, designs, color schemes, etc., and a sometimes non-enthusiastic bent towards anything that falls outside of the small circle of all things Tarpley approved. What this ends up achieving is a kind of social boundary. I will say that we are not snobbish, and that we don't snub our noses at other people. We Tarpleys are a caring and empathetic people. The problem is that we find ourselves having little in common with most people and that those people find us a little hard to get to know.

This presents an interesting problem for missions. What exactly did Paul mean when he said he was "all things to all men"? I haven't done even a cursory study on the subject, so I won't pretend to have anything intelligent to say about Paul's statement. Any comments are welcome.


This last weekend we drove to Austin to see a couple of the bands that have received the Tarpley stamp (really they make beautiful music). The Stars and Death Cab for Cutie put on a wonderful show. We asked a security guard if we could have a folding chair for Eralda since she was pregnant. The guard then proceeded to arrange seating for us in the "VIP" section, which was a balcony above the band about 30 feet away from the stage. The Stars then proceeded to produce some of the most beautiful, mind melting melodies a la indie/emo. Death Cab did a great job too, and we rejoiced at the fact that God's image is inherent in even secular music.

married
i still remember what she was wearing i'm secretly still in love my God she's beautiful
job
computer screen glares at you glare back they see your honor integrity respect he's a good man
house
no one notices the television mom's cooking our favorite more people coming over tonight
car
it's safe it gets from a to b
children
she's getting so beautiful he's bigger than me can't stop grinning the world's not good enough for them
401k
huh? oh yeah. i think we have one of those.
retirement home
the kids wouldn't let us we live with them try to stay out of their business but i'll spoil my grandkids
dream
well done good and faithful servant
...