odd day in church today. unusually emotional and i'm not really sure why. the sermon was fantastic, as usual, but something about it hit me hard. i've been struck by this new life i'm living recently, as if all of this preaching about being on the edge of the promised land and all that that necessarily comes out of Deuteronomy somehow applies directly to my life. there is a new life for me to grasp this day, a new identity for me to take hold of and affirm. what kind of life would it be if we were to really sit and listen to the poor, to the unworthy? to sit with, care for, sing to, love on those that remain forgotten--today i was reminded of that awesome responsibility. and the awesome thing about it is that it has nothing to do with our own desire to fulfill someone else's need. rather, it's about being Jesus, letting Jesus become incarnate in our flesh, in our time, in our ears and eyes and nose. what does it mean to befriend the stranger, to love sacrificially? how much do we give? how much do we save? how do we navigate the incredibly complex and sticky issues of reconciliation? how do we forgive? how do we live wisdom and love right here?
it's beginning to take hold of my conception of what kind of youth pastor i am. for a long time (and still, really), i didn't even want to see myself as a youth pastor. i was a youth sponsor or helper, but i didn't want the responsibility or the title of "pastor." but whether i like the responsibility or not, i have it. so i guess i might as well embrace it. that aside, these kids need something new to define them. they need a new identity. they need more than what the streets and the industries give them. they need their new identity in Christ. so how do we (the church, not us as individuals) give that to them? how do we provide them with an identity that is not ours, not just a different culture's identity, but truly the identity given to them by God? that's a hard question with many and sundry answers, none of which hold all of the answer. in fact, i would not at all mind your input here. but i've got to go. i've got homework to do. even natural disasters can't get me caught up, apparently.
peace.
Oct 28, 2007
Oct 24, 2007
Fires and Seas
"The third-century writer Origen of Alexandria explains the relationship between our effort and God's grace with a metaphor: It is like traveling in a sailing ship on the ocean. Our life is like the ship, and we are the captain. All our skill, energy, and attention are necessary to avoid shipwreck and arrive in port, for the ocean is dangerous and inattention is disastrous upon it.. Our ship, however, also needs the wind. It is the wind that fills the sails and moves the ship, and when the two are weighed against each other, the skill of the captain seems very small compared with the contribution of the wind." (Roberta Bondi)
I am tempted to say that this is the answer to questions that I have had for a long time, but although it may be a step in the right direction, I don't want to say that it is an answer. Whatever nice feelings this ship makes me feel, I still have to deal with not so nice events. San Diego is burning right now. I volunteered to answer phones this morning and how am I supposed to deal with all of this destruction? The last report that I heard said that 5 people have died. hundreds or thousands of homes are gone and people are calling because they just want to know if they can go home. They've got animals there in some cases and no doubt wedding pictures, and other heirlooms. One woman just wanted some food. I talked to one 23 year old girl who was scared to go back to her home where she lives alone but she had been evacuated twice already. The National Guard has shown up in several places to help direct things--M16s and all.
It may not seem like there is a connection, but what happens when the winds that fill the sails of our life-ships are hardly the providential or potentially providential breezes of good grace that bear us to hope and warmness but instead are the blasphemous Santa Anas that bring with them not cooling whispers but firey gusts that knock over semi-trucks and burn the homes of hundreds of people, causing 500,000 to be displaced from their homes and move into giant urban refugee camps where they can be "handled" effectively? What happens when the very seas that we are sailing on are rocked by huge swells whose only redeeming value is that they turn our ship toward the heavens to get one last glimpse of the God of dark clouds and thunder before they turn us down, down, down into the valleys and low places of the sea? Sure, my question is, "what happens when the world is literally on fire?" but also, what happens when suffering of all sorts is all around us all the time? What do we do with this grace at that time? At those times, when all our human straining to turn the rudder seems absolutely worthless. I don't really have a worthwhile answer. I could quote some Psalms about "when I go to the low places, you are there" and "when I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..." and maybe those are the only appropriate responses. But how can we trust in the God of dark clouds to bring back the sunshine and breezes of hope and wellness? I don't know an answer to that question that I can fit into a structure with grammar and punctuation.
i believe we can, though. i believe with all of me that we can, that if we trust only in a God of sunshine and smooth sailing, then maybe we are not trusting in a God at all but rather a false construction that we call God but is really our own desires projected onto a cosmic, abstract screen for the divine. I don't have any answer but that.
As I was hanging up the phones today, I kept saying "goodbye" over and over. And I thought of the origin of that word: "God be with ye." Truly. to those that are dealing with fires real, figurative, or both, may God be with you and bring you home.
I am tempted to say that this is the answer to questions that I have had for a long time, but although it may be a step in the right direction, I don't want to say that it is an answer. Whatever nice feelings this ship makes me feel, I still have to deal with not so nice events. San Diego is burning right now. I volunteered to answer phones this morning and how am I supposed to deal with all of this destruction? The last report that I heard said that 5 people have died. hundreds or thousands of homes are gone and people are calling because they just want to know if they can go home. They've got animals there in some cases and no doubt wedding pictures, and other heirlooms. One woman just wanted some food. I talked to one 23 year old girl who was scared to go back to her home where she lives alone but she had been evacuated twice already. The National Guard has shown up in several places to help direct things--M16s and all.
It may not seem like there is a connection, but what happens when the winds that fill the sails of our life-ships are hardly the providential or potentially providential breezes of good grace that bear us to hope and warmness but instead are the blasphemous Santa Anas that bring with them not cooling whispers but firey gusts that knock over semi-trucks and burn the homes of hundreds of people, causing 500,000 to be displaced from their homes and move into giant urban refugee camps where they can be "handled" effectively? What happens when the very seas that we are sailing on are rocked by huge swells whose only redeeming value is that they turn our ship toward the heavens to get one last glimpse of the God of dark clouds and thunder before they turn us down, down, down into the valleys and low places of the sea? Sure, my question is, "what happens when the world is literally on fire?" but also, what happens when suffering of all sorts is all around us all the time? What do we do with this grace at that time? At those times, when all our human straining to turn the rudder seems absolutely worthless. I don't really have a worthwhile answer. I could quote some Psalms about "when I go to the low places, you are there" and "when I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..." and maybe those are the only appropriate responses. But how can we trust in the God of dark clouds to bring back the sunshine and breezes of hope and wellness? I don't know an answer to that question that I can fit into a structure with grammar and punctuation.
i believe we can, though. i believe with all of me that we can, that if we trust only in a God of sunshine and smooth sailing, then maybe we are not trusting in a God at all but rather a false construction that we call God but is really our own desires projected onto a cosmic, abstract screen for the divine. I don't have any answer but that.
As I was hanging up the phones today, I kept saying "goodbye" over and over. And I thought of the origin of that word: "God be with ye." Truly. to those that are dealing with fires real, figurative, or both, may God be with you and bring you home.
Oct 21, 2007
mountains into molehills
maybe its not chic to blog about things like work and conflicting allegiances in our work, but whatever. its real--even if the only socially acceptable response is complaining.
school's hard and it should be. but then there's church and youth group and trying to call my family and student ministries and my often floundering attempts at being genuinely present with my friends, if i'm present at all.
i'm okay with the ebb and flow of life. i think its poetic. but my struggle comes when that ebb and flow never seems to drop beneath a certain activity/stress level. i'm rarely ever able to reach the ebb and flow that reaches 7 hours of sleep consistently. or even that approaches consistent rest.
Deuteronomy 10:12, Micah 6:8, Matthew 19:16-26
who's asking the questions in my life? Rather, the Question. who has the authority to determine what i do? God doesn't ask me how I am serving God via the institutions of higher education. God doesn't ask me how my GPA looks or how i am serving God via my own dreams and aspirations. just like God doesn't ask Israel whether or not they think it is a good idea to worship Ba'al in order to get rain in their riverless land (Deuteronomy). nor does God ask Israel whether or not they think it is a good idea to live justly rather than seek comfort (Micah). nor does God ask the rich young man how much he wants to give (Matthew).
God wants me to love God with all my heart, soul and strength, following the commands, decrees, and statutes; to act justly, love mercy, walk humbly; to sell all I have, give to the poor, and follow Jesus.
that leaves me pretty prostrate--and with seemingly very little input as far as which grad program I would eventually like to get into. that makes my life look a lot like studying how to follow God's commands and seeking after God with all I have as well as seeking after people and God's best for them with all I have. It leaves me in a radical recognition of my cosmic insignificance, poor, and wandering after an invisible rabbi. AND...in the midst of this, trying to show others that this is indeed the way to life abundant! i wish i could grasp this. alas, if only i had St. Francis' capacity for paradox! but i usually don't, so i will carry on, I suppose. and rest assured that loving God with all your heart, soul, and strength might mean falling into bed exhausted for two months straight.
Lord, I hope you are doing something worthwhile in all of this. Amen.
school's hard and it should be. but then there's church and youth group and trying to call my family and student ministries and my often floundering attempts at being genuinely present with my friends, if i'm present at all.
i'm okay with the ebb and flow of life. i think its poetic. but my struggle comes when that ebb and flow never seems to drop beneath a certain activity/stress level. i'm rarely ever able to reach the ebb and flow that reaches 7 hours of sleep consistently. or even that approaches consistent rest.
Deuteronomy 10:12, Micah 6:8, Matthew 19:16-26
who's asking the questions in my life? Rather, the Question. who has the authority to determine what i do? God doesn't ask me how I am serving God via the institutions of higher education. God doesn't ask me how my GPA looks or how i am serving God via my own dreams and aspirations. just like God doesn't ask Israel whether or not they think it is a good idea to worship Ba'al in order to get rain in their riverless land (Deuteronomy). nor does God ask Israel whether or not they think it is a good idea to live justly rather than seek comfort (Micah). nor does God ask the rich young man how much he wants to give (Matthew).
God wants me to love God with all my heart, soul and strength, following the commands, decrees, and statutes; to act justly, love mercy, walk humbly; to sell all I have, give to the poor, and follow Jesus.
that leaves me pretty prostrate--and with seemingly very little input as far as which grad program I would eventually like to get into. that makes my life look a lot like studying how to follow God's commands and seeking after God with all I have as well as seeking after people and God's best for them with all I have. It leaves me in a radical recognition of my cosmic insignificance, poor, and wandering after an invisible rabbi. AND...in the midst of this, trying to show others that this is indeed the way to life abundant! i wish i could grasp this. alas, if only i had St. Francis' capacity for paradox! but i usually don't, so i will carry on, I suppose. and rest assured that loving God with all your heart, soul, and strength might mean falling into bed exhausted for two months straight.
Lord, I hope you are doing something worthwhile in all of this. Amen.
Oct 10, 2007
this last sunday, a homeless man named Tim came to our service, thanks to the generosity and hospitality of a couple of my friends who took him out to lunch the other day.
during praises and pains, Tim expressed how grateful he was that he was able to come to our service. Tim isn't like me. Tim has an accent of some sort that i find a little funny. He's homeless--that's different from me too. He has a bum knee and has some trouble walking so he is often leaning up against walls or sitting down. He's a friendly guy, although he has no doubt gone through his set of trials and spent a good amount of time drinking and/or partying. Tim, like I said, isn't like me. He grew up in a different world and has certainly made different choices and had different opportunities.
when the time came for offering, i saw my friend Kelsey, who brought him, walk up to the plate and drop in a few coins. it wasn't until yesterday that i found out that those weren't Kelsey's coins. they were Tim's and he had asked her to drop them in because he couldn't walk up there on account of his bad knee. and we were confronted with the story of the widow and her mites, who gave all that she had despite her situation. but i am nevertheless confronted with the reality of the situation. i am rich. Tim is not. but Tim knows how to give--and yet has so little, we might say, to offer. i think that this is not true, that Tim is in fact the one who has something tangible and real to offer because his offering was not given out of plenty but out of lack.
i wish i could write how profoundly Tim's actions impacted me. i'm checked in my wealth. i'm checked in my generosity (or lack thereof), in my deep sense of entitlement. Oh, Lord. help me in this journey to be like my brother Tim and live generously and hopefully.
during praises and pains, Tim expressed how grateful he was that he was able to come to our service. Tim isn't like me. Tim has an accent of some sort that i find a little funny. He's homeless--that's different from me too. He has a bum knee and has some trouble walking so he is often leaning up against walls or sitting down. He's a friendly guy, although he has no doubt gone through his set of trials and spent a good amount of time drinking and/or partying. Tim, like I said, isn't like me. He grew up in a different world and has certainly made different choices and had different opportunities.
when the time came for offering, i saw my friend Kelsey, who brought him, walk up to the plate and drop in a few coins. it wasn't until yesterday that i found out that those weren't Kelsey's coins. they were Tim's and he had asked her to drop them in because he couldn't walk up there on account of his bad knee. and we were confronted with the story of the widow and her mites, who gave all that she had despite her situation. but i am nevertheless confronted with the reality of the situation. i am rich. Tim is not. but Tim knows how to give--and yet has so little, we might say, to offer. i think that this is not true, that Tim is in fact the one who has something tangible and real to offer because his offering was not given out of plenty but out of lack.
i wish i could write how profoundly Tim's actions impacted me. i'm checked in my wealth. i'm checked in my generosity (or lack thereof), in my deep sense of entitlement. Oh, Lord. help me in this journey to be like my brother Tim and live generously and hopefully.
Oct 1, 2007
Father God,
What is that we are to do in these places, where we don’t feel you but we know you’re there, almost like some oppressive professor who puts the fear in us and causes us to do work we don’t really want to do. So how shall I respond to you in this place? I almost don’t want to continue working for you in this place. I want to lay down the call and begin to talk of grace and peace again, ignoring the real truth of walls and all the hard things in life. I am tired and unwilling to continue in this vein. Why do you call me here? Why do you have me here?
Then I am suddenly aware of my own choices. Where is my energy going? Is it into the call that I know I have or is it continually into the things in life that I think will bring me joy but that have shown time and time again to be the constructions of a culture that is surrounding me and trying to convince me of my own self-importance so that I might perpetuate said system, even if it leaves me gasping for breath at the bottom of the spiral. I want what is real, not what I think is real or hope to be real. I want Your truth, Your way, and a united heart to fear you, Father.
I will walk in Your truth;
Unite my heart to fear Your name.
(Psalm 86:11)
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