FAQ - April 1998
by Michael O’Connor

Q: What is a FAQ?

A: An acronym like FBI or CIA, FAQ stands for "FREQUENTLY" as in "often", "ASKED", as in "queried" and "QUESTIONS" as in "questions". This phrase, "frequently asked questions" has gained popularity in the past several years in computer manuals and on Internet web sites.

The questions in this essay were set forth by inquisitive ministry friends to learn more about the serene, personal activities and precise, clock-like workings of the traveling musical team known as Improbable People Ministries.

The answers, unless otherwise noted, are provided free of charge by the member who does less singing and more heavy lifting than other more vocally endowed members. Not that this is an issue with him.

Q: I’ve heard that once, while staying with a Denver pastor and his family, Sally Klein O’Connor locked herself in the bathroom, forcing him to remove the entire door from its hinges. Pausing occasionally to secure his trembling hand which was wielding an unsteady screwdriver, I understand the pastor’s entire being was involuntarily convulsed with the amazing notion of this delicate situation.

I’ve also heard her husband, Michael, while sympathizing with her plight, was temporarily blinded by tears and unable to assist during the two hour operation. Does this rumor hold any water?

A: As a gentleman, I am unwilling to dignify this charge with response or comment. As a minister of the Gospel, I shall not. As a husband, I dare not.

Q: As songwriters, what comes first—the music or the lyrics?

A: I generally write the lyric first, then watch Sally cringe as she reads the "War And Peace" length manuscript I’ve placed before her. As a lyricist, I need her musical gifts. Like the Blue Fairy’s touch with Pinnochio, Sally’s melodies bring my words to life, make them living breathing things.

Without her I’m a poet. With her I’m a songwriter. God breathes on my words as they connect to Sally’s music and there is life. The puppet breaks loose his strings and soars.

Only in the song, "Come and Follow Me" did the melody come first. Sally wrote a wonderfully simple snippet of a melody, but had no plans for it. She didn’t recognize the beauty within. So I rescued it from the scrap heap of her memory and for the first time crafted a lyric within the framework of her melody.

We’re hoping to do more writing like this in the future, if only to preserve our national forests.

Q: How do you deal with your artistic differences? Do you ever struggle over songs you both feel passionately about?

A: The sad truth is there are commas we struggle over that we both feel passionately about. Our friends know this and the smart ones don’t come over while we are editing the newsletter.

Sally and I are both strong willed individuals who each happen to possess the incredible gift of being right ninety-eight per cent of the time. This is useful when we are each dealing independently with the world outside our home. But when we come together for personal discussion or to work on a song or an essay, sometimes planets collide trying to get out of our way.

We have learned that when we come together for anything more than a casual conversation, when offering critique of the other’s work, or discussing important family matters, we need to pray and bring our hearts before God. Only when we are able to see the other through His eyes and not our own impoverished vision are we truly in a place to give a merciful hearing to the topic at hand.

Q: How did the theme song for IPM come about?

A: It was a hot and bush-was-burning day. We were in our tiny, red Ford Escort hurtling up the I-5, heading for Ashland, Oregon to visit our friends, The Mitchells. In a rare moment of vehicular tenderness I relinquished the steering wheel for an hour or so to my collaborator-for-life. Not that this is an issue with me. I felt like writing a song. I felt like working on that idea which had been haunting my brain for the past couple of months.

Ever since our pastor had given a Sunday message entitled, "Improbable People For Impossible Tasks," I had been drawn to the concept that God uses the foolish things of the world to shame the wise. I had been seduced by the idea. I had decided to steal it.

This was, indeed, a magnificent theme. Moses, Sarah, Abraham, a biblical cast of thousands—they were all at my disposal for this song. Starting out, I didn’t know much about my point of view, but I did know one thing for certain—this was going to be a serious song. I was so sure of that, I didn’t even bother praying about it.

As I began putting words down on the page, phrases like, "Moses looked at the Lord and His burning brows," and "Moses don’t you know that you’re a cosmic bore?" a still, small voice inside started crooning, "Day-O . . . Dayyyy-o-o-o-o.". It was at that moment I realized that my poetic muse, my inner child, and the Holy Spirit had all conspired in directing me to lighten up.

So I tossed the serious thesis and, cranking up the Jimmy Buffet music on the stereo, discovered the heretofore unknown musical genre of Jewish Reggae.

Q: Do you ever have prophetic dreams about songs you’ve yet to write?

A: I knew you were going to ask me that. Sally has had a couple lyric fragments come to her in dreams and during prayer. There is a song on the album we are currently recording which came from a dream Sally had while on tour. Things had reached a crisis point in the marriage of a couple we’d met through the ministry. In the dream Sally felt the Holy Spirit direct her to contact them. As she woke up she wrote some lyrics down and, over time, they developed into a song called "The Distance".

Although I believe I’ve had prophetic dreams, I have had none in the manner you suggest. But I have, I believe, been given a prophetic moment or two. The clearest example I can recall involves the genesis of the title song from one of our albums. Sally and I were attending a weekly Bible study at our associate pastor’s home. Dusty was just a wee thing in our arms and slept through most evening’s activities at that time.

During a refreshment break one night, I picked up a conversation which seemed to be in full gear. Our friend, Solica Griffith, was explaining her view of God to a young man who was a tough sell. She was both persuasive and passionate in her discourse. "He is our Cre-a-tor," she explained persuasively, emphasizing each syllable as if his life depended on it. "He is our Father," she exuded. "He is . . ." and at this point she seemed to be searching her heart for a third point which would drive her point home strongly, " . . . the author of LIFE!"

I never discovered if the young man found his Lord and Savior that night. But the moment I heard Solica’s passionate proclamation this scenario came to me: God shows up at a bookstore, signing His best-seller, only one person shows up. Over the course of a year the remainder of the story revealed itself to me while the lyric was being written.

I believe the Holy Spirit touched my heart that night and led me through the writing of this song.

Q: Tell me, what makes you laugh?

A: There is so much that makes me laugh. To me, Albert Brooks is the funniest man alive, employed outside of politics. Mel Brooks makes me laugh—-that is, the "Blazing Saddles", "The Producers" Mel Brooks, not the "Spaceballs", "History of the World" one. Tofu makes me laugh—-not the taste, just the thought of it. Try thinking of tofu and nothing but tofu sometime. You’ll see what I mean.

But mostly, and I know this will sound egotistical, I make me laugh. Sometimes I flat out crack me up. My mind is a comic playground where punch lines and comic concepts are cherished and tossed about like a beach ball at a sporting event. You have no idea why anyone would bring a beach ball to Dodger Stadium, but you stand back and say, "I guess it’s not hurting anyone—why not?"

So it is with my liberal inner critic. I am an appreciative audience of one to my own comic leanings with a two drink minimum I never enforce.

The inherent advantage is that when I come up with a funny line that Sally or my girls don’t respond to, it’s really OK. I’ve learned that if I find a thing funny, that’s all that matters. I don’t need the external approval I did earlier in my life.

When a line doesn’t garner the desired laugh, there is a Carnegie Hall-sized crowd in my mind roaring with approval, standing and cheering wildly. This keeps me sane in a world that increasingly makes less and less sense. The epitaph for my head stone has already been selected and it reads: "I kill me."

Q: How is your board of directors set up?

A: One of the true joys of having been in this ministry for nearly eight years has been our relationship with our board of directors. When we incorporated the ministry and achieved non-profit status, the State of California mandated that we retain a board of directors and meet several times per year. Because Sally and I recognized the need for accountability early in the life of IPM, we had already had a board in place before this directive.

We settled on three qualifying points when inviting someone to join our merry little band. First, the candidate must have a strong, mature personal relationship with God. This is the foundation upon which all other qualities must rest.

Second, we look for someone who already has an interest and appreciation for the work which is done here. We figure there is no sense in trying to shoehorn a candidate into the position, to request a commitment of 20-30 hours per year if they are lukewarm about Improbable People. Fortunately, God has blessed us with many loving, caring brothers and sisters from which to choose.

Finally, we consider the special and unique gifts and perspective that individual may bring to the ministry. When we formed our first board in 1990, Sally and I looked at the two of us and concluded, "OK, we have the flaky artist types—we don’t need any more of those."

The backgrounds of our past and present board have included ministry administration, pastor, Christian music industry, teacher, court clerk, insurance claims rep, Christian businessman and flaky artist types. Our honor roll of past and present members include: Denny Bouchard, Lynn & Jo Cory, Cindy Hendrickson, Kathleen O’Connor, Dave Shilman, Robert Specter, and Steve Wertheim.

These are the voices God has used to mold and shape us from flaky to fairly responsible ministers of the Gospel. They have been our accountability and our compass. Like good parents they have been stern when necessary, gently nurturing and loving most other times. Their advice over the years has been sage and absolutely necessary to the growth of Improbable People and the O’Connors personally.

They have, in short, been family. We love, admire, and respect these human gifts from God.

Q: What songs do you think you haven’t written? What subjects do you think you’re avoiding writing about.

A: I haven’t written a song for Bonnie yet. I’m still getting to know her joys and sorrows, her strengths and foibles. When I write that song, I want it to be as special and inherent to who she is as I hope "Dusty In My Heart" was to our oldest daughter.

I’ve been working on a song about the issue of tithing for over five years. I haven’t nailed the point of view yet. I know this is a funny song about the difficulties of giving a tenth of our income to God. But I’m having a hard time balancing the fun I’m having with the lack of faith we have that God will provide for our needs versus being condescending and disrespectful about a subject many people wrestle with earnestly in their hearts.

I haven’t written about abortion yet. I know I have a song in me on the subject. Actually, I did write one already. But Sally and a few friends helped me to see that the song’s biting humor, which was its strongest point, was also its weakest. I made the point. In fact, I hammered it home. But there was no mercy in my conclusion. The song would have alienated those on both sides of this emotional issue. In the end, I realized that it did not reflect Jesus’ heart.

I want to find the place where I can connect with the person who has pro-choice viewpoint. I realize that I cannot convince this person of my position that abortion is murder of the innocent. All the rhetoric has already been spoken. The battle lines have been drawn. I am not writer enough to change this heart.

I’m waiting, as I do in many songs, for God to send His Holy Spirit, to give me the words. I pray that He will influence my writing, and anoint the song so powerfully as to render the rhetoric of secularism useless and reveal the Truth as God sees it. I’m not avoiding this one. I’m sitting in a cab and the meter is running. I have pen and paper ready if God chooses to drive me to the scene of the rhyme.

Q: That last line was one of the worst puns I’ve ever encountered. Is this an example of "you killing you"?

A: In writing, as in life, I prefer to bring a point full circle with an ironic twist or finish off the piece with a funny line for comic emphasis. Some will see this as unnecessary, some will enjoy it immensely. But in the end, I am the writer and I like to think I have control. Not that this is an issue with me.

©Copyright 1998 Improbable People Ministries

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