Interpretive Exercise

Over 1 million abortions are performed in the United States each year. Over fifty percent of couples who are married in the United States will end up divorced. Violence permeates our culture; Virginia Tech… Columbine High School… Iraq. Natural disasters ravage our land; Hurricane Katrina…Floods…Earthquakes…Tornados. We are left homeless, hungry, humiliated. To top it all off, the church is in decline. Millions are leaving the church each year. “God is Dead?....”

If this is the way it is to be, why do I live?

On Sunday morning I get to see God in the eyes of a newborn baby being baptized. I see a new marriage take place in the church; a promise made that Christ is and will always be present. I see that promise in the face of a couple now married for 50 years. I see the Spirit at work in the faces of people coming together to pray for the families of those touched by violence; people who don’t even know each other hugging, and holding hands. I see the church reaching out in mission to house the homeless, to clothe the cold, and Christ is present in the eyes of the hungry woman who brings her child into the soup kitchen. On Sunday I feel God presence as I eat the bread, and drink the cup; the cross hangs empty on the wall. Why do I live? I live because Christ Lives!

In the Beginning

Twelve hours…

It is night; the darkness is enhanced by the ominous presence of menacing clouds. The heavy rainfall is proof of their presence, and the steady beat of water as it crashes into trees, ground, and lake, drown out any other noise. Occasionally the scene is illuminated by the flash of lightning, but otherwise all remains dark.

Dawn approaches, and the rain turns to drizzle as the storm front passes. The scene of a wooded lakeshore is revealed in the dazzling red and orange hues of a mountain skies sunrise. As water drips off the leaves of the lush green vegetation and settles on the mossy covered rocks and underbrush below, a mosquito settles onto the, now calm, waters surface. Suddenly it disappears; the shimmering rainbow glinting off a trout’s scales.

Day comes and a doe leads her fawn to the waters edge for a drink. The dampness of the evening has evaporated into the comforting warmth of a summer’s day. In the trees a harmony of music and colors blend into a symphony of songbirds, as high above an eagle soars taking in the show.

As evening comes, a gentle fog rolls over the lake. As the sun sets, the sky shows promise of revealing all its secrets in the blaze of a million starts. In the distance a gentle hoot sounds and an owl glides silently through the quiet night air.

I get to witness it all; God still at work in his creation.

Everyday becoming a brand new “In the Beginning…”

The Iowa Caucus

One of the things I was the most excited for in coming to Dubuque was the opportunity to participate in the Iowa Caucuses. This is always the first in the nation, and something that gets a lot of attention. One of the things I probably didn't expect was to decide to attend the Democrats caucuses instead of the Republican however. I must admit that I have been won over pretty strongly by Barak Obama this year and I decided to Caucus for him. It was a unique experience for me. The participation for the precinct I live in was pretty good. Because the event was moved up this year, the caucus took place in a smaller middle school cafeteria instead of the occupied gymnasium. It was pretty much standing room only in here, and because they were told classrooms would not be made available, it was decided that some of the caucusing would need to take place in the halls. After a random drawing, the Richardson and Clinton groups were chosen to gather in the hallway outside the cafeteria. I enjoyed the rules of the process in Iowa. The first thing that happened was an initial count of support for each candidate. They needed at least 15% of the 344 people attending to be counted as viable. After the first count only three campaigns were viable according to the rules. This left the supporters of Biden, Richardson, Dodd and others to be wooed by other candidates. After a period in which this happened a second and final vote was taken. In the end Obama won our precinct, with Clinton taking second, and Edwards third. It was a great time.
As far as my decision to support Obama; I made it in spite of my Republican leanings because I find that as a moderate I am probably closer to Obama, a moderate democrat, then I am to any of the very conservative republicans, and I really don't like any of the moderate conservatives in the race. I guess my vote could change, but in seeing a democrat speak regarding faith and politics such as Obama does here (thanks to a friends blog for pointing it out), I find myself growing to like my choice this year more and more.

A Career in Relationships

I wonder sometimes how to classify myself as a student here in Dubuque. About half of our students tend to be people fresh from college, having known for a while that seminary (and sometimes beyond) was their goal. The other half of our students are what you would describe as second career students. They have spent a great deal of their lives in different fields gaining many life experiences before moving on to seminary. Me, I would probably consider myself a second or third job student. I may have a degree in Business and a past in sales, but I don't know if I ever really had a career before coming to Dubuque.
I have found myself saying a lot lately though that sales and ministry have a great deal in common. Most people think I'm speaking in terms of ministry is a pursuit of selling God to people, but that is not what I mean. Successful salespeople and successful ministers have both learned long ago that what they are really in the business of is making relationships. Neither will ever succeed if they can't comfortably approach somebody, and make them feel comfortable. Sales is about getting to know somebody, and finding out their needs. A bad salesman will try and sell somebody anything they can, but a good salesman will only sell a customer what they need. Much of the time, the customer doesn't even know what they need; they are not experts in what they are purchasing. This customer may love a large leather sofa, but they don't take into account the size of their room, the layout of their house, or the fact that by buying this set they can't remove the cushions like they want to. A bad salesman will still sell them this furniture, but a good salesman will develop a relationship. He or she will find out how they live, what they want to use the furniture for, and where it is going to go. The good salesperson will then find something that really is what the customer needs. This can't happen without a relationship.
Ministry is really the same way. Many people who come into our churches don't really know what they are looking for. They know that this is the place to find it, but need their questions answered. A bad pastor will welcome somebody in and be thankful for another warm body in the pews. A good pastor will begin to form a relationship, and get to know his congregant. A good pastor will find out what is happening in this person’s life, and will find a way to help plug this person into the community of the church. A good pastor will take the time to care one on one.
I wasn't always a good salesman. One of the facts of life in the sales world is the need to have ways to track success. Even good salespeople have to account for sales quotas, and close ratios. Sales is measured not in how many people you got to know, but on how much they spent, and how much product is moved. We often try to judge ministry this way as well, by tracking how many people we have showing up each week, and on how much was given in the stewardship drive. In a business driven world, it's easy to get sucked up into this trap. I know that I do quite often.
Campus ministry has been a little bit like this for me this year. We got off to a slow start, and the numbers of students attending events like lighthouse and chapel are down. I see myself trying to think of strategies to attract more people, and I see other leaders doing the same thing. I had a great reminder last night however that in ministry, numbers are not necessarily what are important. I had a brief one on one conversation with a student when I noticed they were ducking out early on a program. We spent some time talking, and while I don't know that they left feeling any different, I felt that maybe I helped at least give some encouragement and direction. Regardless of that, I at least let this person know that I cared, and that I would be praying for them. Looking back I realize that this is the kind of ministry I want to have. Numbers are nice, but lives touched, even if only briefly matter more. I give thanks to a special friend who was with me, and reminded me of this last night.

An Update:

18 days and counting....

Hebrew: 1 Final Exam Left and memorize the Schema. (and plan the Bagel Bash)
Exegesis: Edit 16 pages and a final exam.
Doctrine: 6-12 pages and a final exam.
Historical Prayer: 5-7 pages
SPM: Done
Worship: 10-15 pages and presentation.
Research: Done

Oh, and I have a date tomorrow night. (Sorry, that's all the info I'm giving out)

Thanksgiving

What am I thankful for? What do I thank God for when I say my prayers in the evening? During the day, what are the small comforts that give me pause and remind me to say a quick word of thanks? What should I be thankful for? Ahhhh, it is Thanksgiving and of course the question on everybody lips is "what are you thankful for." The question was asked to me last week at tables. I wrote down chocolate chip cookies just to be different. The same question was asked briefly, if not followed through with today. I've seen articles about this question recently. Of course this is the topic of conversation; it's that time of year.
I tried to describe Thanksgiving to my roommate from Kenya last week. I was doing so well, talking about the Pilgrims and their boat (was it the Mayflower), and about how they struggled in their harsh first winter. I spoke about how the local Indian tribe sent emissaries to help this ragtag bunch through, and how when the harvest arrived, the Pilgrims invited their new friends over for a great feast, giving thanks for all that had been done. I think I was doing a mighty fine job until the question came, "So is this a religious holiday." The immediate answer was no, it's a secular holiday, but really is it? If this celebration started because a bunch of puritan Christians threw a feast to give thanks to God for their survival and friendships, how can this not be a religious holiday as well?
I wrote a paper on the basic theology of offering in worship this week. To summarize a 7 page paper in about one sentence, the reason we give an offering is to respond to the Word in an act of thanksgiving. We give out of thankfulness, and the Pilgrims threw this party, giving from their harvest in thanks and gratitude. Our sermon in church the other day was titled, "Thanksliving." It spoke about how as Christians we need to give thanks not just one day a week, but in every action of our lives. We live out our thankfulness. The problem is that this leads me right back to the question, what do I give thanks to God for in my evening prayers? What should I give thanks for?
The answer to at least one of these questions lays in a devotion given the other day by a fellow student here before lunch. He shared the story of Corrie and Betsie Ten Boom, as related in the book and movie "The Hiding Place." These two ladies were Dutch Christians who, after being turned in for harboring Jews from Germany during the Nazi regime, were thrown into the notorious Ravensbrück concentration camp. The conditions were terrible in their lice infested barracks, but the sisters persisted in giving thanks to God for everything they had. They even said daily prayers thanking God for the lice, much to the disgust of Corrie. During their time in the camp, where many were treated very harshly by the guards, these two girls found that they were left relatively alone. They had a bible and were able to study it and share it with others in their barracks as well. All this was done without the guards ever finding out. According to my friend (I have not read the book), Corrie eventually found that the reason they were left alone, and able to hide the Bible, was due to the fact that the guards didn't want to come near their barracks or them out of fear of the lice. The very thing that Corrie was having difficulty giving thanks for, all of a sudden became the thing she could give God the most thanks for.
With this in mind, I wonder, do I give thanks for my diabetes? Yes. Do I give thanks for papers that are not done yet and frustrating me? Yes. Do I give thanks for bad weather, and too much to do? I don't know that I can always remember to do this, but today, I say a prayer to give God thanks for everything. No list of just happy thoughts and pleasant memories, but instead it's me laying all that I am before him, and saying Thank You for your sacrifice upon the cross for me. Thank you for making me who I am regardless of the trials. Thank you for working your grace in me that I can even come to you with this. Thanks for being our God.



Oh ...and thank you for chocolate chip cookies!

A Great Evening

I tend to be pretty impulsive in my personality. It's not unusual for me to do something on a whim as it strikes my fancy. I'm not a big planner, but that's ok because I fly by the seat of my pants with the best of them. That is why I wonder why a certain paper of mine is causing me so many difficulties. I have had most of the semester to write my exegesis paper on a great passage; Mark 2:1-2. The healing of the paralytic is a great story of the bible with a lot to say about both the person and ministry of Christ. I still can't seem to be able to sit down and write this paper however. I feel that I'm at a point of paralysis by analysis. I have been trying to analyze so much when it comes to this topic, that I can't keep anything straight. Tomorrow I have to write most of it. I plan on being at the library when it opens, and I won't be surprised if I'm still there when it closes. It will get done, I have every confidence, but it is officially the most difficult paper I have ever written.
I went to the girls’ house tonight to watch a movie and just veg out. I didn't think about the paper at all, and I found that as I came home tonight I had a load off my chest. I'm in a better mood, and feel good about this project. GOD IS GOOD.

The Obituary

I don't know why it’s this way for me, but I just tend to enjoy talking with people, and it seems like no matter where I live there are a few places in town where I can walk in the door and people know my name. The problem is that these are never the places that I would want to admit to. In Loveland it was the pharmacy where I could walk in and they already knew what I was doing there. There is something depressing about being in your 20's and being on a first name basis with the pharmacist. In Dubuque, it's a little better, but the place is the Hardee's restaurant next to campus. I don't eat there everyday or anything, but I probably do end up there at least once a week if I have an on campus meeting during lunch and I need something to grab quickly. I walk in and the two girls who are always behind the counter always smile and welcome me by name (but I must admit I don't know theirs). Someday I need to arrange it that the people who work at the bank know my name. That might mean that I'm not poor.
I was at Hardee's today for lunch after delivering a letter to the Dean's office asking to be considered as a student delegate for GA next year. I like to go in sometimes on weekends because I can get a free newspaper and just unwind for an hour or so. As I scanned the headlines today and delved deeper into the Des Moines Register, something caught my attention. It was the words "Thornton, CO" in the obituaries. Normally I don't scan this section of the paper, but it was a town from back home in Colorado and the photo shown with the text was of an attractive lady who was only in her early 40's. The obit began with the simple words, "Hi, my name is...” I'm guessing that she passed from something along the lines of cancer; something that gave her enough warning so that she could actually write her own obituary. It was a beautiful and somewhat awe inspiring tribute as she left quick messages to those she was leaving behind. It was a quick I love you to her husband, and a message that she would always be watching over her daughters in spirit. She told her son to be strong, and to her step father she quipped "Who loves ya man!?" The most striking words for me though, were the thoughts reserved for her mother. "thank you for your love, your humor, your strength and this life, I had a blast!"
I had a great conversation tonight with a good friend while lounging away the night under the star filled sky in a hot tub. We talked about our lives and about the experiences that we have had that helped lead us to where we are. It was one of those conversations where you make yourself vulnerable as you share, and I'm grateful for having friends like that whom I can share with. Upon arriving home tonight, I see this obituary still sitting on my desk, and it has me thinking. If I had to write my own obituary, what would I say to everybody I care about? How do you put a whole life full of memories into just a few short words? I don't know that I could. I do know that I could say two things though...."Thank you" and "I had a blast!!!"

30 days in a nutshell

I had a quick facebook conversation with a friend in the undergrad program today that highlighted the fact that while the first half of the semester seemed to just drag on this year, the past few weeks have flown by quicker then I ever imagined possible. I had a few laughs last year when I saw friends counting down not the days they had left, but the pages they have left to write. I now understand that frame of thought however. A quick look through my syllabus collection for the semester reveals about 32 days left and:

Hebrew: 2 exams and two quizzes.
Exegesis: 20-30 pages and a final exam.
Doctrine: 6-12 pages and a final exam.
Historical Prayer: 5-7 pages
SPM: 2 pages (I love this class)
Worship: 15-20 pages
Research: Done

My prayer for today is that someday I learn to not procrastinate.

Finding Answers

I remember being in kindergarten and thinking that my teacher knew everything there was to know. Of course she knew everything; why else would she be a teacher. No matter what I asked, she would know the answer. The same went for my mom and dad. If I skinned a knee, they knew how to heal it, and when I wanted to learn how to ride my bike, of course they had the answer. My kindergarten teacher knew my aunt, but that made sense, she knew everything as well. I remember being that age. Everything was safe, and everybody around me could make me feel that way.
I skip forward in my life now about 27 years, and I realize that I am now about the age that my mother was when I was five. I'm probably now older then my kindergarten teacher was in 1980 or so when I first started school. I know I'm older then my aunt was. I also know that they probably didn't have all the answers to life like I thought they did; I certainly don't.
As I grew up, I began to realize slowly that some of the adults in my life maybe didn't know everything, but that was ok. At the time, I probably thought that I knew all the answers anyway. Moving into college and my early adult years most of these naive thoughts went away, but there was still a few people who I think deep down I felt like had all the answers. After all, my pastors had God on their side; of course they would be able to help me in anything that I went through. They helped lead me through my high school youth group experiences. They helped lead me, as I attempted to be a leader for the youth of the church. I went and sat in the office of my associate pastor as I went through premarital counseling. I remember making a desperate phone call one evening to her voice mail as I struggled to try and save a doomed marriage. Getting voice mail crushed me because I knew if she would have answered everything would have been ok.
I think a lot of people think this about their pastors, but as I progress through seminary, this notion is shattered as well, as I begin to realize that we all are a broken people searching for truth. I look around me and I see friends and colleagues who face the same demons that I do. I see people who struggle with relationship questions, image concerns, depression, addictions, family problems, time management concerns, and identity crisis’s. I see people who struggle with the very same issues that I struggle with myself. When I decided to follow the call I felt in my life, I worried that I would arrive on a campus of people who knew everything. I imagined being the lost black sheep on campus, and being laughed out of school.
While I know this is not true now, I still sometimes worry that I am not cut out to be a pastor. I'm not cut out to be the person that a broken and wounded person can lean on, because I am broken and wounded myself. Today was a reminder of this as I had a conversation with somebody dealing with problems from a family strained to the extreme by life. I saw my unworthiness as I entered a discussion with a friend struggling to find theological answers to a life's dilemma. I felt very inadequate as I listened to somebody I consider a close friend admit to some serious demons they are facing in life. I felt exposed as I shared some of my own to the same person.
My solace today is the thoughts gained by my reading of Eugene Peterson, who reminds me that as a future pastor, I don't need to have all the answers....Jesus already does. My job is to pray, and to help those around me pray. My job is not to heal those around me, but to point them to the true healer, our lord and savior. These thoughts and ideas sometimes seem overused and rather blah, but in times of extreme hurt and pain, they can shine through. I remember a time when prayer was maybe all that got me through. It wasn't a pastor, or a teacher, or even my mother who I cried to, but to Jesus. I still don't always feel adequate to be the one who people come to for the answers. The human in me wants to have them all, but my prayer for today is that I will be able to help direct people to the answers. Not the answers that I give them, but the answers that are given to them through the Holy Spirit.

Weak and wounded sinner
Lost and left to die
O, raise your head, for love is passing by
Come to Jesus
Come to Jesus
Come to Jesus and live!

Now your burden's lifted
And carried far away
And precious blood has washed away the stain, so
Sing to Jesus
Sing to Jesus
Sing to Jesus and live!

And like a newborn baby
Don't be afraid to crawl
And remember when you walk Sometimes we fall...so
Fall on Jesus
Fall on Jesus
Fall on Jesus and live!

Sometimes the way is lonely
And steep and filled with pain
So if your sky is dark and pours the rain, then
Cry to Jesus
Cry to Jesus
Cry to Jesus and live!

O, and when the love spills over
And music fills the night
And when you can't contain your joy inside, then
Dance for Jesus
Dance for Jesus
Dance for Jesus and live!

And with your final heartbeat
Kiss the world goodbye
Then go in peace, and laugh on Glory's side, and
Fly to Jesus
Fly to Jesus
Fly to Jesus and live!

- Chris Rice - Untitled Hymn (Come To Jesus)

Prayer in the Words

I don't know why it has been a chore for me to write as of late. It confuses me that something that was once a treasured part of my life, has become of late something that I see as a chore. Seeing my journaling in this light has caused me to stop doing something that has really and truly been a source of great comfort and reflection. I guess that some of this has been due to the fact that I already do a great deal of writing in my everyday life, and to sit down at a keyboard and write for another hour, as a devotional, seems a waste of time. The problem I run into though is that this form of writing tends to be very therapeutic and helps me to order my thoughts and feelings. I have gone through the gambit with disorganized thoughts and feelings this semester of school, and I have a hunch that much of this is due to my hesitancy to spend the time to write what is on my mind.There is I think, a second reason that I have been hesitant to write though, and that is fear. Some of the topics that I have explored over this semester, and before to be truthful, are issues that can be very divisive in the world and in the church. I tend to have some strong thoughts on these topics, but I also hate confrontation. I don't like the idea that if I explore my feelings online, others may be hurt or offended. As I go into ministry I worry that I may not be confrontational enough with my congregation and my community. I think that one of the biggest problems we have in this country is a feeling of indifference, and if our pastors and religious leaders are not willing to step up in love to challenge the status quo of society, then the message of the Gospel (oftentimes the offensive message of the Gospel) may be watered down too much. It scares me that I may become something that I don't like by my fear of offending somebody. It's also a scare to me that my blog could be used against me as I search for a church in the next couple of years. I think it's important to be honest in searching for a call, and I always try to be very honest in my writing, and careful about what I say, but I can't escape the feeling sometimes that I may be saying things that rule me out of a Church that is a good fit for me. I also have been hesitant to write over the past six months or so because many of the thoughts and emotions I have been wrestling with have related to people who have been known to be readers of this blog. I have enjoyed my journaling process because it makes me look at people and situations in a good light, due to the fact that anybody can read it. This is great in helping me reframe situations. My problem is that sometimes being honest with myself won't let me be completely honest with the world. Nobody likes to admit faults to themselves, let alone online. It becomes something fearful and uncomfortable. It's through the process of confession and laying things on the line though that we find healing. It's an easy thing to say though, and another to show that faith through action.A friend has inspired me to begin writing again, due to their very passionate and honest exploring of a difficult situation. I miss feeling free to express my thoughts, feelings, perspectives, daydreams, inspirations, and just basic ramblings to the world, and to myself though, so my honest hope is that I can learn to recapture this great devotion. I realize that in writing these posts I experience a very real and honest form of prayer to God, one that I am not capable of experiencing without these printed (or electronic) words. Glory be to God.

A Life's Journey

I like words, but sometimes they are not adequate....

What might have been?

The human psyche has an amazing ability to reason something one way and have great happiness about it, while at the same time on a deeper lever feel something completely different. Sometimes the more I try and understand this phenomenon the more I realize I don’t always even know my own self. My ex-girlfriend (and great friend) told me today that she is dating a new guy. All at the same time I felt great excitement and joy for her, while at the same time a felt lousy all at the same time. I hate when my deeper emotions feel different then what I feel I should feel, and then to pile on to that, I add guilt to the mixture. I laugh a lot about my recent past dating experiences. It seems that everyone I date meets their future husband not long after me. It has happened with the last three girls before Ty. I’m not saying it will happen now, but you never know. Anyway the other great thing about the human psyche though is that it heals quickly. I was able to sit down tonight with Ty and work through some of those emotions. I know it will be a few more days until I’m completely normal again (if that is the word), but I feel very happy for her, and hope that this is something good in her life. She really does deserve the very best.
I don’t like country music, but I did download a country song the other day that has resonated at times in my life. The song is by Little Texas and goes:

Sure I think about you now and then
But it's been a long, long time
I've got a good life now, and I've moved on
So when you cross my mind...

I try not to think about what might have been
Cause that was then
And we have taken different roads
We can't go back again
There's no use giving in
And there’s no way to know
What might have been

We can sit and talk about this all night long
And wonder why we didn't last
Yes, they might be the best days we will ever know
But we'll have to leave them in the past...

The song really does describe me. I try not to think too much about what my life might have looked like; mostly because I love where my life is headed. Sometimes though I can get a little melancholy and I began to wonder what my life could have looked like. It has been a year and a half since August took her life, and we were divorced nearly 5 years ago. This January 3rd would have been our 10th anniversary. I was the first of all my friends to be married. I was also the first to move away from Loveland and own a house. Not long before our divorce, we talked about having kids, and if that would have happened, I would have been the first to that milestone as well. I look at my life today and realize just how differently it might have looked had just a few small things gone differently, and it amazes me. I see friends of mine now with one or two kids and a mortgage, and it shocks me that I could have been there too. I could very easily still be managing a furniture store somewhere in the country, while preparing to send my child to kindergarten. It’s a weird reality to place myself in as I see where I really am. There are times that I think I do miss that life, but I love the fact that I am called so something so different then I ever thought I would do. I feel lost and lonely only for a moment and then I go participate in something like the Lighthouse campus ministry. I walk into a group of young people and get to be a part of them. I get to hear the band play and worship as I sing loudly to the Lord, saying words that bring me back to a deep peace and joy in my life. The words are simple yet powerful

“YOUR GRACE IS ENOUGH!”

The Jesus Prayer

It has been said to me lately by a few people that I am not one to stress. For the most part I think this is probably a true observation, but over the past few weeks I'm not so sure. I don't like to show worry on the outside, but as with most people we fight a lot of internal battles that we don't often want to share. This semester has become much more difficult then I ever imagined it would when I went about setting up my school year, but I don't feel like I can drop anything that I am doing at the moment. If I can make it through to this time next month life will begin to become easier, but in the mean time I feel like I am doing 100 different things, but not doing any one of those well.
There is a running joke amongst people who have been to seminary that the name is cemetery. There is a certain truth to that statement. It can be a difficult environment, and one that can lead to a spiritual death very quickly. The academics can be demanding, and in trying to keep up with the demands of schoolwork, church schedules, finances, and other meetings, conferences, and commitments it is very easy to forget that this is a calling from God. It's easy to forget to sometimes stop and listen. The one thing that is helpful right now is a class on historical models of prayer. This week’s assignment is simple and probably very much needed. It is simply to give five minutes a day to a simple single prayer:

"Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me"

"Κύριε Ἰησοῦ Χριστέ, Υἱέ τοῦ Θεοῦ, ἐλέησόν με τὸν."

Friends and Goodbye's

Packing up the dreams God planted
In the fertile soil of you
Cant believe the hopes hes granted
Means a chapter in your life is through
But well keep you close as always
It wont even seem youve gone
cause our hearts in big and small ways
Will keep the love that keeps us strong

And friends are friends forever
If the lords the lord of them
And a friend will not say never
cause the welcome will not end
Though its hard to let you go
In the fathers hands we know
That a lifetimes not too long to live as friends.
- Friends by Michael W. Smith

The waterworks pretty much opened up for many of the 13 and 14 year olds as this song played at the year end slideshow of my 8th grade year. We had just finished two great years at Bill Reed Jr. High / Middle School and next year half of my class would be attending Thompson Valley High and the other half would be attending Loveland High. The slideshow was a time to reflect on the past year, but it also reminded us of the fact that this would be the last time many of our friends would be our classmates. It was an emotional time.

This was not the first time I had to learn to say goodbye, and it most definitely was not the last time that I had to say goodbye. Over the span of my life, I have had to say goodbye to more people then I can really count, and I recognize that I will say goodbye to many more throughout the course of my life. One of the greatest sources of sadness in my life is the realization that in a couple short years, I will have to say goodbye to the members of my seminary class. Though there are always good intentions of keeping in touch, and not losing contact with others, inevitably many in this group will lose touch and life will go on.

I just returned not long ago from a trip to Colorado. It was an amazing trip and I was able to connect with some of my best friends in the world. While many of these are the friends that I will never lose touch with, I don’t have the same contact that I used to with them all, and leaving Colorado forced me to say goodbye again; just as quickly as I was able to say hello. Life goes on.

I am getting ready to say goodbye here again very soon. The last week in my summer internship is upon me, and I have been preparing in my head the last sermon I will give here. While it will be a full sermon, I also hope to be able to say a brief goodbye in it, and thank the congregation for all the lessons they have taught me during my brief stay here. I would love to promise that I will stop back by sometime and keep everybody informed of what I am doing, but I know that will probably not happen as well as it could. I know that I will be saying goodbye, most likely permanently, to people who have meant a lot to me.

I love the meaning of these lyrics by Michael W. Smith. I love the idea, that just because we say goodbye, that we are still friends. I believe this, and it gives me great hope in my life. I still think often of all the people who have had meaning in my life, who I no longer keep in contact with. I wonder what has happened to many of these people who I will probably never see again, but still hold in my heart. I wonder where Amy, my kindergarten playmate is. The last time I saw her was the wedding of my short-lived marriage. I wonder what happened to Colin and Jeff, the best friends of my childhood. I saw Colin at his wedding, many years ago, but didn’t have a chance to say hello. I ran into Jeff’s father some time ago and found that he was happy, and living life in Denver. I took Jackie to my junior prom, and graduated from both high school and college with here. The last I saw her she was planning on going to grad school some 8 years ago. I probably still have the ability to get in touch with a few other friends from high school, but never do. I saw Gwen at my 10 year reunion, and have had e-mail conversations with Keith and Melissa and Krista, but our lives have gone their separate ways. My life, and I’m sure yours, are littered with stories of people who have impacted our lives and then faded as our lives have gone on; but it’s a comfort to know that we can still count ourselves as friends forever.

Lord, thank you for friendship, thank you for putting these people into my life. You reveal yourself to us in many ways, but one of the most personal ways we see you, is in the eyes of each others; in the eyes of our friends. In the smiles and laughter shared between buddies, you have shown us the power of your joy. In the quiet whispers and shared anxieties of companions you have given us trust. As close friends have come together over tears of anguish, you have taught us compassion in a heartfelt embrace. We have learned peace as we experience you Lord, over quiet times of contentment with our pals. We have learned forgiveness in our realization that losing a friend is not worth the price of a mistake. In the selfless act of another, we have learned what it means to give, and in their humble acceptance of our gifts we have learned how to receive. In true friendship we learn about the greatest gift you have given us; we learn how to love. It is in friendship where we model the true mission of the church here on earth. In scripture you tell us what is good and bad, but it is in the work of the Holy Spirit as seen in our friendships where we get to experience it. Thank you for your true gift of love; thank you for friends.

Late-Night Thoughts on Faith and Mystery

I had a pastor once who gave a sermon on the topic of Joy. He started the sermon with, of all things, a dictionary definition of the topic. While I love this pastor to death, this was one sermon that just flopped for me. I don’t think you can define Joy with mere words; you can’t try and explain joy to somebody simply by telling them what it is, they have to experience it.

In trying to describe how I feel right now, the word Faith comes to mind. Often times I will go for a definition as a starting point, but like Joy, how can one really know what faith is without seeing it, and experiencing it in their own lives. How can one grasp something that is really ungraspable without having had it touch their life in a deep meaningful and personal way? Even then, it’s something that can’t really be understood. In looking at a definition online though, one thing stood out to me that I can touch upon, and that word is trust. The primary idea behind faith is trust. In faith we have trust; in an idea or ideal; in an institution; in a person or loved one; in our God. We can believe that something is real, say the Loch Ness Monster, but without trust, do we have any faith in that belief. We can say we believe in God, but without trust in him, is there faith?

I have spent a great deal of time over the past year attempting to hear God’s voice in my life. I will spend a great deal of time over the next few years to continue to try and listen to his mighty voice; his whisper, in my life. By his grace, I will hopefully not stop then at the end of seminary, but will spend the rest of my life trusting in his voice, and trying to discern what that voice is saying to me. I think we all try and determine what it is God is telling us to do in our lives. It may be the single most vexing and frustrating thing for Christians. We live in a world of instant data, and endless information. We go online, and whatever we want to know, we have in the blink of an eye. When we want to communicate with somebody we just give them a ring on our cell phone, or if that isn’t convenient we text message them; all the communication without the hassle of a personal touch. When I e-mail somebody now, I often have a response within a few hours, but if I need it quicker, I can always see if they are online and IM them. We often want this in our prayer lives as well, but it doesn’t work that way. In our society we are taught to seek out hard solid facts, we are taught to evaluate things based on hard solid numbers. The idea of mystery is void in our culture.

In our human minds we try and explain God in numbers; and I have seen in many friends, their faith tattered and torn because of messages they have been given about God and prayer. I have seen the message of the “Gospel of Prosperity” torture friends; the message that if they only will believe strong enough, God WILL give it to them. I have seen friends struggle with messages from people saying they know God’s will. People who claim to represent God, but really teach a message that is very contrary to his teaching in scripture. I have had friends pray and pray and pray for something, only to lose faith when they decide that their prayers have not been answered. In all of these examples people lose faith because they put their faith, their trust, not in him but in their preconceived notions of him. In the end they are putting their faith in themselves and in their understanding of God. In the gospel of prosperity, we put our faith in and idea that God will provide for us, according to our desires of provision. With our listening to people who claim to know God’s word, we place our trust in their interpretation of what God say’s to them. God may be speaking to them, he may not, but like the Jews in the time of Christ, are their interpretations correct? The Jews were expecting a great king, and yet what they saw was nothing of the sort. In our example of those that pray for something only to lose faith when they don’t see it answered, again they put their faith in an idea that the answer must look like the image in their head.

I absolutely love this quote from the movie Evan Almighty because it reverbs with the thoughts and ponderings that I’ve been weighing for the past few weeks.

“If someone prays for patience, do you think that God gives them patience or does He give them the opportunity to be patient? If one prays for courage does God give them courage or the opportunity to be courageous? If someone prays for the family to be closer do you think God actually wants them to have warm fuzzy feelings or does He give them opportunities to love each other?" – Morgan Freeman in Evan Almighty

To embrace God is to embrace mystery. To love God, is to love the unknown, made known to us in Jesus Christ. Jesus in his teachings though didn’t often give black and white answers. He taught in parables, letting his students figure out what the meaning behind the story was. There was a meaning behind the teaching though as he showed the disciples as he explained the parable of the sower (Mt 13:18-23, Lk 8:11-15, Mk 4:13-20). Matthew, quoting Isaiah, says “You will indeed listen, but never understand, and you will indeed look, but never perceive.” No matter how hard we try to explain God, we can’t forget that in the end he is still a mystery. As this movie quote points out, our understanding of what God “should do” and what he really does are often not perfectly aligned. In the end the greatest part about faith is that it is trust not in the fully know, but in the unknown. It’s a trust that in his infinite wisdom and infinite love, God will provide for us in a way that is best for us. It’s a belief that he knows better then we do what that is.

We live in a society that is progressively becoming post modern in its beliefs. It’s becoming more and more taught that truth is in our experiences. Just like with Joy and Faith, it’s our experience with then that convince us of that truth; that experience that gives us trust. I embrace this, but struggle with the second part of this ideal that says that since everybody has different experiences, everybody has different truths. I can’t express a belief that in Christ there are different truths. What I can express a belief in is that in our experiences we try and interpret what the truth is, sometimes correctly and sometimes incorrectly. Just as in the early days of the church we don’t always understand the message of Christ, and therefore we need to work together, in mutual respect to find the truth on many of the issues we face. I know that I am pretty opinionated on many issues, and I can’t say that this is bad, it’s important to have beliefs, and to know why you belief what you do. Faith can’t exist if there is no trust in certain ideals. If somebody is to say they trust all ideals, is that really trust in anything? What I lament, though is seeing people who have differing beliefs based on what they have seen in their lives and in their reading of scripture attack each other openly in the name of religion. I have my beliefs, and I will defend these beliefs, but not at the expense of another human being.

I have been more encouraged over the past year that I am not the only one who feels this way. Working with a church pastor here who is often on the other side of issues, but seeing in him a faithful man of God is encouraging to me. Going to school with people who stand on all sides of the political and theological scale, and being able to call all of the friend is one of the greatest gifts I have ever been given. I will continue to have the beliefs that I do, and will continue to explain why I believe them; but I will do so in knowledge that my understanding of God is limited. I will do so with a faith and trust that in his wisdom and love, he will continue to guide me. I don’t know what the final answer will be for the church in it’s battles on the issues of our day. What I do know is that I have faith in the mystery of God, in the mystery of his solution given in the mystery of his own timing.

A walk through history

I think often times in our traditional mainline denominational churches worship becomes very routine and stale. People come to church knowing what to expect, and unless something unexpected happens, such as the pastor dropping the bread during communion, they don't remember much. Worship is so much more then that though, and sometimes worship, even in the stalest environment, becomes something special and serves to remind us that whenever two or more are gathered in Christ's name, he is present. Today served as that reminder for me, and I hope for many people in our congregation. While I don't know that I did anything different, and I hope I didn't, there was a noticeably different feel to worship today. There was a buzz in the air, and you could sense the presence of God. It makes me confident of the path I am on in my life.
I went for a nice hike yesterday in the Galesville cemetery. While I think that many people are a little freaked out by these places, I have always found them to be a great source of peace and serenity. Pine Cliff Cemetery is situated on a hill right in the middle of town. From the top of the hill, the cemetery overlooks the city with a spectacular view. Looking the other way from the cemetery, it overlooks some great farm land and a small apple orchard. It is one of the most beautiful places I have found this summer. I had wanted to go in order to take a couple photos. I wanted to be able to remember my first funeral the week before, and the beauty of the short internment ceremony. I took so much more with me from this walk though. I was able to spend some time reflecting on my sermon for today. I didn't write it until late last night, and the thoughts I worked over during this walk were very helpful to me. I was also able to get a bit of a neat perspective on the history of the town somewhat. It was neat to see the cemetery laid out with large monuments spaced out with the last name of a family on it. Surrounding these stones, were smaller stones with individuals names and dates. Basically the cemetery was laid out in the 1800's with each family having an area of the cemetery that they were buried in. As time went on, this began to break down a little bit, and now it's a wonderful sight to see a stone dated in the late 1890's situated right next to a stone dated in 2003. I saw many family names that I know, and it was neat to take a small piece of history with me in my photos.
I have tomorrow off, and I'm hoping to do a little hiking up some bluffs here in town so I can grab a few more photos. It has been a beautiful week, and I'm looking forward to a fun Independence Day.

Homecoming

I love to hop in my car and just drive sometimes. I'll get a thought in my head that I feel like thinking through, and will just jump into my Grand Am and hit the road for hours at a time. I've found that I've been forced to change that pattern lately though. As gas prices have gone up through the roof, and the miles on my car have steadily climbed past the 100,000 miles mark, I've taken to reflecting on my thoughts in a new place. It's about 10:30 at night and I'm sitting in the dark sanctuary at First Pres. I first came and sat here last week as I was thinking through my sermon on Elijah's encounter with God in complete silence on Mount Horeb. As I was sitting there reflecting on what silence sounded like I realized all the noise that we don't even notice in our lives. I could hear the century old building creak and moan, and the occasional car drive by on the street outside the beautiful stained glass windows. I could hear the wind as it softly whispered by the steeple above me. I could also hear the steady click, click, click of the inexpensive plastic clock that hangs above the doors in the rear; a gentle reminder to the pastor that our lives are so important that we often times are unwilling to give more then the weekly sacred hour to our faith. That though is another post altogether, for when I am in a different mood.
I spent some time today speaking with good friends back in Colorado, preparing for my trip there in August. It seems that no matter how much time I spend when I go back, I never have even a minute to slow down and relax. That's very depressing in some ways, and in others it's a great feeling to have so many people that I care about, and who care about me that I want to make sure I schedule to see. I miss my home. I think about Loveland often, and I long for the daily view of the Rocky Mountains that I took for granted living in my childhood home. I miss the dry climate, and the 300 plus days of sunshine. I miss smelling pine trees as I drive up the Big Thompson Canyon toward Estes Park. I miss my friends. I miss my church. I miss my home.
I was watching a movie tonight on cable TV that I really never wanted to see, but got stuck on while channel surfing tonight. It has one of my favorite actresses though and got me to thinking about our love for home; our love for the comfort of being where we belong. In this movie, the girl had everything she could ever want, but she was willing to give it all up; wealth, fame, comfort, and even love, to return to the place in the world that was home. I have given up on ever being able to return to Loveland to live. I would be willing to bet that I won't be living in my beloved Colorado anytime soon in my life. I firmly believe that any place can become home, and that it's the friends and memories of a place that you make that will eventually become home. I have that kind of feeling with Dubuque and the community of the seminary. I will someday leave that home as well to follow the call Jesus has put on my life and I'm happy with that. I will always have a place in my heart for Colorado though. There is something about sitting on my rock at Pinewood reservoir that makes me feel closer to God. There is something about laying on the hood of my car, looking at the stars from Rocky Mountain National Park that puts meaning in my faith. There is something about sitting around a mountain campfire at Highlands Camp that lets me know God is speaking to me personally, that I don't get in Iowa, or Wisconsin.
There is one other home that gathered new meaning for me this week though. I led my first funeral service this weekend. It was a remarkable experience for a man who did some remarkable things. He was a teacher who still was in contact with many of his old students, calling many of them weekly. This is remarkable enough in itself, but becomes even more remarkable when you realize these students graduated high school 50 years ago, and that this gentleman was 90 years old. I found it fitting that as somebody known his whole life as an educator was still helping to educate me, even following his death. It was a bit of a struggle for me to plan and prepare for the funeral, but it's something that I really found a lot of pleasure doing. I have heard many pastors say they would rather do a funeral then a wedding service, and I can see why (but I'm not willing to say that statement yet). Planning a sermon and the rest of the service helped open my eyes to the true meaning of a funeral service, and the joy that can come from celebrating the life of somebody who has come and gone before us. It's a reminder that this is a time of celebration as somebody through the power of Christ's resurrection from death on the cross, has finally gone home. That somebody has gone to a home that we long for even more then our homes here on earth. That a 90 year old named Norm has gone to a home that is better then even the Colorado home I still miss. It's great to go home!

Heart of Worship

I just finished leading my first worship service from start to finish. I have preached before, and led liturgy, and selected music, but the pastor is now on vacation for 4 weeks and I was responsible for the whole service today. I'll be honest and say that it is a bit of a relief to be done with it, but things went very well and I had a great time. I know there were a few mistakes and such, but I'm not looking for perfection, simply an honest and authentic time of worship for those present. As a pastor it's sometimes easy to forget what worship is about and focus on things such as style, delivery and look. It's easy to think that worship is about you and what you do in the front of the room. When that happens worship ceases to be worship and becomes a performance. I struggle with this dichotomy sometimes as I realize that worship is all about God, but still want to be the best leader of worship I can be. It's also easy to get addicted to all the comments of praise and encouragement I get each week. Because I'm an intern people continue to go out of their way to say nice things to me. Over time these comments will go away, they don't last. It can be easy to take that as a sign that you are no longer being successful. I said a prayer today, but I can't take credit for writing it. It's a song by Sonic Flood that was shown to me by a good friend a few years back. It's an important prayer for anybody who leads in worship to hear now and again.

King of endless worth
No one could express
How much You deserve
Though I'm weak and poor
All I have is Yours
Every single breath

I'm coming back to the heart of worship
It's all about you
All about you, Jesus
I'm sorry Lord for the thing I've made it
When it's all about You
It's all about you, Jesus

A good walk ruined

As far as I can tell, this is what Mark Twain said about Golf. I think I may have to agree with him.
I drove down to Dubuque this weekend to collect the mail that I forgot to have forwarded to me this summer. With a tuition bill and my grades for the semester (did pretty well) having been mailed to my mailbox back in Dubuque, I figured I should go pick everything up. I drove up Friday afternoon on my day off listening to reports of tornado warnings in some of the counties that I was driving towards and through. It's a little unnerving to hear the warnings, but with the exception of some light rain it was a nice drive. I even stopped to snap a few photos of farm country with the Mississippi in the background.

"Golf is not a game, it's bondage. It was obviously devised by a man torn with guilt, eager to atone for his sins." - Jim Murray

It was nice being back on campus, but strange to come onto campus not as a resident, but a visitor. I didn't have my own townhouse to sleep in, but instead had to crash on the sofa of some friends. It wasn't the most comfortable I've ever slept, but it's great having people who are willing to put me up on a days notice, even though they already have a guest from California staying with them as well. Last night the friends I stayed with, and some other friends got together to play some cards. It was a new game I had never played before, but I picked it up pretty quickly. I have a reputation for being pretty competitive, and I was again last night, but in the end I did lose. It's funny how I love competition. I would never watch anything like a cooking show, but turn it into a competition like Iron Chef and I'm hooked. I wouldn't touch a single thing on the menu, but I can't turn the show off until I know who wins.

"If you think golf is relaxing, you're not playing it right." - Bob Hope

I did get a nice surprise when I checked my mail last night as well. I had a nice check in the mail from my church back home. It was completely unexpected, but so very appreciated. It's always a nice reminder that there are people back home that are praying for me and encouraging me in what I'm doing. I love the church.

"Golf is the hardest game in the world to play, and the
easiest to cheat at." - Dave Hill

Yes, I went a played some golf with Kelsey, her father, and Matt today. I don't know whether I like golf or hate golf. It's supposed to be considered recreation, yet I always want to wrap my clubs around a tree as I feel by blood pressure rise by the end of the game. I was told by Kelsey that I shot a 32 for the nine holes we played today. She was being very kind to me because I had 32 strokes by the time I hit the 3rd or 4th hole. You are officially horrible at this game if it takes you 6 strokes to get on the green and another 4 putts to sink the ball on a par 4. This is a game that I can't master it seems no matter how hard I try. I want to be competitive with others, but I will go with people who are playing their first game in years, and they will destroy me. It's frustrating to the extreme to be so bad at something. I decided for that very reason, golf is actually good for me. It may not be relaxing or enjoyable for me most of the time, but it does help teach me humility. It helps me to enjoy and relax in the surrounding, and forget about competing. It shows me that I don't always have to be the best at something. It also shows me what good friends I have as they remain patient with me throughout the entire episode. Golf is a crazy thing, but I'm sure I'll go play again the very next time I'm invited.