Philosophy Over Coffee

Pop Culture Roundup

2012-01-27T07:03:00.000-05:00

Believe it or not, I'm still reading This Odd and Wondrous Calling, which you may remember I started way back at the end of November. It's one of those books that I pick up, read a chapter, and then leave alone for a while. That's not really a commentary on the content or quality of writing, I just haven't been in a hurry to read ministry books in this season of my life. Nevertheless, Lillian Daniel has a good chapter about pastor spouses, including some good observations about the differences in expectations if said spouse is male or female.

Mad Men is growing on me. The first few episodes, I couldn't really get past some of the cultural stuff that was apparently considered appropriate in that time period. Having watched a few more episodes now, the characters are starting to grow on me as I see more of their depth and insecurities beginning to come out. A lot of the office people are still pretty two-dimensional, but I imagine that that will change the more I get into the series.

The 2012 WWE Royal Rumble is this Sunday evening. It is one of my favorite wrestling events of the entire year, as it features a match where 30 guys enter, one every few minutes, and the only way to be eliminated is to be thrown over the top rope and both feet touch the floor. The winner gets a world title shot at Wrestlemania. There will be some other matches as well, but they normally don't turn out to be classics by any means. A returning Chris Jericho and Randy Orton are two of the draws of the match. I'm betting on one of them to win.

Ingrid Michaelson came out with a new album this week called Human Again. I haven't listened to the whole thing yet, but here's a new song from it called "Ghost:"

Temptation and Clarification

2012-01-24T06:14:00.003-05:00

Yesterday was the 7th anniversary of my ordination. It was on that day seven years ago that I took the vows I've been trying to live into ever since. It was yesterday that I was sent a message by a colleague inviting me (and others) to reflect on Jesus' time in the wilderness. He suggested that Jesus spent those 40 days being tried and tempted while working out his vocation, and invited all of us to reflect on how we are tried and tempted while doing the same. It also happened that I've been invited to reflect on Jesus' wilderness time during my Ignatian Exercises this week. All this together, my spiritual director will no doubt say later today, was less than a mere coincidence, with which I'll not disagree.

Anyway, as I ponder my ordination this week, I've been thinking about such temptations, but also clarifications that have come over these seven years, and figured I'd blog both.

Trials and Temptations

1. Leave before the job is done. At the sign of resistance, frustration, boredom, or general ruttedness, it's tempting to seek out the supposedly greener grass elsewhere. But I have learned over and over to wait it out, to see what happens, and to try new things. Every time so far, it's become clear that I'm not done where I am. I've received this piece of advice from more than one colleague much more seasoned than me: "Don't be in a hurry to leave." This comes from pastors who thought they were heading for better situations and got burned when they got there, so they know, and their point is well-taken.

2. To try too hard to seem like a Regular Guy. I hate the exchanges at get-togethers that are variations on this: "Killians, please." "You're a pastor and you drink beer?" Yes, I like normal things. No, I do not spend 23 hours on my prayer cot in the church basement with an hour off for lunch. For a while I really went out of my way to prove this to people, and I think it was at the expense of my role, my sense of pastoral identity. Obviously there are changes that this vocation calls for, but there are ways to infuse it with who you are.

3. Making the church your "first mistress," to borrow a phrase from Ray Carroll. It's very easy to make the church the center of your world at the expense of your family, your social life, yourself. Whether you're doing it to appease your toughest critics, or justifying it theologically, or just a workaholic, it easily leads to burnout, misconduct, and/or major familial problems.

Clarifications

1. I love counseling and mentoring others in ministry. I love leading discussions, I love talking one on one, I love serving in various ways on my Association's Church & Ministry Department. Down the line, I'd like to pursue this interest perhaps in a different kind of ministry, but for now doing it as a local church pastor is what I'm meant to do.

2. I started this blog shortly after beginning my first settled call, and it has become for me something essential. Through this medium I've become aware of a love of, even a calling to, write. I've had a few things published over the years, and I'm feeling the itch to write in an even more serious way than that. But I'm still in the early stages of such things.

It's been quite a journey these past seven years. What will tomorrow bring?

Booing the Golden Rule

2012-01-19T06:34:00.000-05:00

On Monday night, the Republican candidates for president had yet another debate, this time in South Carolina. I haven't made it a point to watch them: there have been so many, I don't want to devote 2-3 hours to watching them, and WWE Monday Night RAW was on (which, you know, same thing). I do tend to read up afterward and watch the running commentary on my Twitter timeline during the event, so I stay in the loop in my own way.

So I'm reading the commentary during Monday's debate, and all these tweets start appearing about the "Golden Rule" being booed by the crowd. For those unfamiliar with what that term refers to, Jesus' version appears in Matthew 7:12: "In everything do to others as you would have them do to you; for this is the law and the prophets."

Anyway, as I read tweet after tweet referring to this event, I became incredulous. A state known for a more conservative, evangelical population booed one of the most well-known statements Jesus made? Turns out that they did indeed:

Scattered boos and jeers drowned out Paul's call for a "golden rule" in American foreign policy.

"My point is, that if another country does to us what we do to others, we aren't going to like it very much. So I would say maybe we ought to consider a golden rule in foreign policy," Paul said as the crowd laughed and jeered. "We endlessly bomb these other countries and then we wonder why they get upset with us?"

And if you still don't believe it, here's the video:

Those sound like more than just "scattered" boos to me. And yet the crowd turns right around by the end and cheers pulling out of the wars that we're in. I found that confusing.

My question is a simple one: How is the Golden Rule booed in a country that so often claims to be Christian? While versions of this adage appear in most religious traditions, we here would be most familiar with the Christian version. It is fair to say that those who were at that debate the other night would have heard Jesus' version in their heads when Paul referred to it. Ergo, one of Jesus' most recognizable and well-known statements was booed. Meanwhile, a statement made a few moments later by another candidate about killing our enemies (Jesus had some things to say about that, too) was greeted with a standing ovation.

Many Christians in the United States advocate endlessly for prayer in schools, for plaques referring to Christian precepts hung in state buildings, for "under God" to be left in the pledge. When tragedy strikes, there always come some suggestions that if these things were left alone they might not have happened, either because we're being punished for abandoning God or removing these things contribute to some larger erosion of morals in society.

If the former explanation is true, then what do people think God has to say about booing Jesus' teaching? If the latter is true, clearly even the "most Christian" among us need more reminders.

This debate incident is the latest in a long string of events that show that plaques are not the real solution to making the United States a more Christian nation. Hang the Ten Commandments in every statehouse in the country, force kids to say the Lord's Prayer every morning, but what's your heart like? When was the last time you helped someone struggling with poverty? When was the last time you forgave an enemy? When was the last time you did to someone else as you'd have done to you? I do get why people would boo that sort of thing: it's hard. It makes us uncomfortable and pushes us to pay more than lip service to this faith that we proclaim.

What's going to mean more: displaying a Bible verse or living out what the verse says? Dictating that kids all pray, or nurturing a culture that reflects a spirit of prayer featuring peace in community? Saying "under God" or living like you really are under God? Coercion, intimidation, and an unbending judgmental standard or genuine relationship, kindness, and an appreciation for the specifics of another's story, particularly as it relates to God's Great Big Story?

The bottom line is that what would truly make us a more Christian nation is Christians acting like Christians. And I don't mean railing about the culture war cause du jour, I mean doing the hard gritty everyday stuff of love and forgiveness that Jesus taught and exhibited, that pushes our boundaries and gets dirt under our fingernails for the sake of the Kingdom. It's that kind of stuff--the stuff of a real transformed life and not an endless campaign to force conformity--to which Jesus calls people. After all, Jesus said, "You'll know them by their fruits."

Of course, some might boo that, too.

The Taskmaster

2012-01-16T06:22:00.003-05:00

I am hunched over my computer keyboard in the late afternoon, feeling my eyes turning red and dry from exposure to the screen's penetrating light. I've barely filled a page, mostly single-sentence paragraphs, and it's as if they mock me for not writing more.

I reach for my coffee, freshly steaming in a mug I'd received before leaving for college. It's been washed so many times that the seal of my alma mater has faded, a dull brown against black rather than its formerly brilliant gold.

It is worn, and I am worn. But I know that I need to finish, and soon.

I take a moment to read over my work again. My attention wanders back to my drink, and I suddenly sense that I’m no longer alone. There was no sound of his approaching, he hasn’t said a word. His presence behind me, however, is unmistakable. I feel my chest tighten as this realization fully sets in, and I finish the action of sipping and setting the mug back down in order to feel some semblance of control, of normalcy.

“You seem to be having trouble. You weren’t considering flaking out on me again, were you?”

His words always carry an air of accusation. This would be true even if he was asking about the weather. The knot in my chest gets a little bigger and I fold my arms in order to hide the shaking. I still haven’t turned around.

“It’s just coming more slowly than it used to. You know that I don’t have as much time—“

“You haven’t made the time, you mean.”

I don’t bother to finish my sentence. He wouldn’t really be listening anyway. This is how it always is. My jaw goes rigid; I catch myself doing it and relax. I feel his impatience like tiny hot needles piercing the back of my shirt as the silence between us gets longer. He doesn’t really care about what I have to say, and yet he wants me to speak.

“So…want to give the excuses another try?”

It’s been long enough. I slowly turn in my chair to face him. He’s leaning against the doorframe, sipping from a mug that looks exactly like mine down to the last scratch. He smirks, not bothering to hide his contempt for me. He takes a sip, exaggerating the slurp while watching for my reaction. Even the most mundane act carries condescension.

It wasn’t always like this. The two of us had been cordial partners for many years. At that time, we fed off each other, tossing ideas back and forth like two kids playing catch. He was much more encouraging at that time; even shared the workload with me, as eager to create and entertain as I was. We were pretty much the same person then, and I take another moment to wonder when we began to diverge; what caused this relationship to become so uneven.

He instantly knows what I’m doing. “Knock it off and tell me why you don’t have something ready yet.”

I feel a slight surge of adrenaline at this and ponder throwing my coffee in his face. He knows this and chuckles.

“You’ve wanted to do that for a long time, haven’t you? Go ahead and see what happens.”

I take a deep breath, opening and closing my fist a few times. This calms me enough so that I can speak.

“I should have something ready in another day or two.”

He stands up straight, letting out an exasperated sigh. “It’s already been three days. What’s been taking you so long?”

He knows what’s coming even before I say it.

“I already tried telling you. I haven’t had as much time as I used to. Stuff like this doesn’t just pop into my head and run down out of my fingers any more. I have to budget time better, type a little here and there, plan stuff out. But even—“

“I’m so sick of hearing this every day.”

This time I insist on finishing. “But even you have to admit that it’s been better quality since I started doing it this way.”

There is a long pause. I sense his hesitancy to agree, his searching for a cheap way to snap back, to poke a hole in my argument and my soul.

“Better quality. I’ll give you that. Savor the fact that I’m agreeing with you. Of course, you could stand to pick it up a little.”

“But—“

“No! Sure, you’re planning and editing more, but you and I both know that you don’t do it as often. The quality stuff comes, what, once every few weeks? What are you doing in between those supposed masterpieces? You sure aren’t working on them non-stop. You’re on those asinine friend sites or playing cheap games on your phone. No, don’t even bring up your family or your job or your spiritual direction crap, because you know that's not what I mean. You wonder why I ride your ass about doing this? It’s because if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be writing anything.”

“Well then, maybe I won't any more!”

His icy glare says it all. He wasn’t prepared for my willingness to suggest that.

“You and I both know that that is not an option.”

I feel my courage growing. “It’s not? That’s not the first time you’ve said that, but you’ve never explained why. You’ve just always assumed that I’d accept it at face value. Why’s it not an option? Why don’t you take a crack at this stuff again? You care so much about doing this, how about throwing out some ideas the way you used to instead of making me do the work of two people?”

He chews the inside of his cheek for a moment. I take it as an invitation to keep going.

“You keep me chained to this machine like eloquent prose just magically happens and you never lift a finger to help. You show up, judge me, and leave. I’m the one doing all the work, and you swoop in to soak up the praise afterward. You need me in order to make you feel good, because it's the only reason you're around at all. If I ever stop, you cease to exist, and you hate the thought of that. So, how about I stop? How about I just quit, and kill two birds with one stone? I free up some time, and more importantly, I get rid of you.”

His incredulity remains during my entire diatribe, but by the end I can see a flash of panic as well. Feeling emboldened, I take this opportunity to reach for my cup and take a sip, complete with my own exaggerated slurp to punctuate things.

Unfortunately, my gesture seems to snap him back into form. He ambles over, setting his own cup down on the desk, and rests a hand on each arm of my chair so that his face is inches from mine. I smell the coffee on his breath. His eyes, brown and deeply familiar, hold my own.

“I know that you dream of that happening. You want so bad to be rid of me, to be rid of what you do for us. But let’s talk about existence. Without me, without what I never let you forget every day, without what I force you to do, you wouldn’t exist either.

“Do you think anybody would care if you stopped writing, right now? Do you think they’d notice? No, they wouldn’t. They’d find something else, other supposedly profound insights to occupy a few minutes of their time each day. If you stop writing, they stop caring. Go ahead and test me on this. Let things go for even a week and watch the attention evaporate.

“The fact is that you want, you need the praise as much as I do. You need it to know that someone notices. I’m helping you stay relevant. I’m helping you stay alive. And you’ve never thanked me, never acknowledged that my role does make a difference in this relationship. That’s okay, so long as you keep doing what you do in order for both of us to get what we need from the rest of the world.”

He holds my gaze for a few more seconds before straightening up and gingerly grabbing his mug.

“You’re welcome.”

Backing up a few steps, he turns and vanishes a moment later. I turn back toward the computer, his words a brutal echo in my thoughts. I look at the screen and watch the words in silence. After a moment, I resume typing, my coffee slowly going cold.

Pop Culture Roundup

2012-01-13T06:52:00.013-05:00

The only book I've read this year so far has been Fallen Pastor by Ray Carroll, which I reviewed here.

At some point, somewhere, somebody said to somebody else, "Hey, let's retell the story of 'Romeo and Juliet' using lawn gnomes and featuring the music of Elton John." And for some reason, the other person said, "Yeah, that sounds like a surefire hit!" As it turns out, this conversation did not happen in a college dorm room while passing around a cigarette with questionable contents, but in a boardroom at Dreamworks (which for all I know may be the same thing). The result is Gnomeo and Juliet, which Coffeeson has wanted to watch several times a day for at least a week now. Two rival yards full of lawn decorations go back and forth, Gnomeo meets Juliet, hopefully you know the gist. There is actually a lawn gnome who comes out at the very beginning and says, "The story you're about to see has been told...a lot." Indeed. James McAvoy, Emily Blunt, Michael Caine, Maggie Smith, Ozzy Osbourne, and Jason Statham are among those lending their voice talents. It's certainly not the greatest animated film ever made, but it did have enough cleverness to it--including subtle references to other Shakespearean works--that I didn't not enjoy it.

I've been meaning to get into the show Mad Men for quite a while now, and Coffeewife got me the first season on Blu-Ray for Christmas so I could do just that. After seeing the first few episodes, and I can't say that I really like any of the main characters yet. It has taken me a while to settle into the culture of the show, which is set in a time when men can get away with nearly anything in the workplace with their female coworkers and women's highest ideal is to become the best Susie Homemaker that they can possibly be. Everyone smokes like a chimney, and it's common to have an afternoon (or even morning) drink in one's office. We're meant to be particularly concerned with Jon Hamm's Don Draper, an executive in advertising who is brilliant at his job and has a good home life with a lover on the side. He's already shown flashes of depth, which I imagine will only continue as I get further into the series. All that said...I'm still trying to decide whether I like this show.

Do I have any new music? Pshaw. I have some new music.

First, I've been enjoying "Parachute" by Ingrid Michaelson lately:

Next, I downloaded the album For True by Trombone Shorty, who brings it with an upbeat New Orleans sound. He reminds me a lot of Robert Randolph, with a lot of different influences mixed together including funk, jazz, blues, rock, and hip-hop. Here's my favorite, "Dumaine Street:"

I've also been enjoying Wye Oak's album Civilian. This group is in the same vein as Florence + the Machine or Feist, with a little more grit to them. Here's the title track:

Speaking of Florence + the Machine, I've been enjoying her latest album as well, Ceremonials. It's blown me away with its driving tribal drums fronted by Florence's passionate voice, and has a surprising amount of religious imagery. Witness, for instance, this video for "No Light, No Light:"

Small Sips Prefers to Call It "Denarding"

2012-01-10T06:48:00.002-05:00

Thank God for Touchdowns. Greg at The Parish reflects on the act of "Tebowing," which for the uninitiated, is the term coined for Broncos QB Tim Tebow kneeling and praying in the endzone after a touchdown:

All that to say that Tebow's public expressions of faith don't trouble me. I do think it's worse than stupid to assume god gives two shits about the outcome of a game, but I understand why some fundangelicals believe he does. Tebow sports a Bible verse on his eye-black. So? At least it's not Leviticus 18:22. He prays. Billions of people pray. He prays publicly. You get the point. He's acting like a very committed, outspoken man of faith. Give it a rest, people. If you hate Florida, say so. If you don't like that he's big and goofy and gives all the credit to his god, say so. I will admit to some glee at watching his evangelical fan base gnash their teeth when I mock them with tweets about Dagon being god of Denver, just as Maher annoyed millions with his tweet. There seems to be this strange ability amongst certain people of faith to say that they know something isn't true (God cares about football games) while still holding onto a belief that it is true. Mocking them along that axis leads to anger and/or a bit too much celebration when Tebow wins. As one recent poster said: "Go Tebow! Go Jesus!" Yeah, words fail.

Greg goes on to make several points about how many people say they don't believe that God cares about football, but then in the moment their actions belie something else. He talks about football being viewed as spiritual warfare in these instances, which I'd never considered and am not sure I agree with.

As far as Tebow himself is concerned, Greg and I are on the same page: who cares? Both "sides" make way too much of his endzone prayers: atheists like Bill Maher, not to mention rival fans, see it as an invitation to tee off on him (or rush the passer, I guess, to keep with the football theme), while Christians use it as an opportunity to point out his public witness and complain about "persecution" when Maher says tasteless things.

Tim Tebow is not the first or only sports figure to thank God after a good play (and it's worth noting that in his press conferences he thanks God after wins AND losses). It's pretty crummy theology to suggest that God caused the play to turn out the way it did, but if an athlete is merely praying for focus, to be able to do the best they can, or giving thanks for their abilities, I don't see the big deal in that. Does Tebow overdo it? Sure, at times. But his faith has always been so public that at what point does the media and others just blow it up bigger than it really is?

Moar young ppl plz. Carol Howard Merritt tells us a bunch of stuff we already know:

* From 2000 to 2005 the average percentage of participants over 60 years old increased.
* Over the same time period the average percentage of participants 18-34 decreased.
* From 2008 to 2010 the average percentage of participants over 65 increased slightly.
* From 2008 to 2010 the average percentage of 18-34 year olds continued to decline.
* A third or more of the membership in over half (52.7%) of Oldline Protestant congregations consists of seniors (65 years old or older).
* Seventy-five percent of Oldline Protestant congregations said that less than 10% of their regular participants were young adults (18-34 years old).

What follows after these stats are suggestions as to why "oldline" churches may be turning away young people, among them lack of diversity in age and culture in leadership and aversion to technology.

I read this just as my church's Consistory is about to take on new members, and we're intentionally reaching out to some younger (read: under 40) folks to serve. This was a helpful time to come across an article like this.

Pews: not so much. Nadia Bolz-Weber's church sounds awesome:

Pews, especially lovely carved vintage pews, can be really quite beautiful and an efficient way of seating a lot of people at once. No question about it. But here’s the problem my church is having in finding a new home. We can’t abide pews. And it’s more than simply an issue of taste.

See, House for All Sinners and Saints (for the most part) worships in the round, with the altar at the center. There is not a large space set aside in front for the special people in robes to which everyone faces. Our liturgy (liturgy meaning “the work of the people”) is led by about 15-18 people who decided to pick up the worship booklets when they came in that have jobs written on the front. So from where they sit in the round, they stand and either say the prayer of the day or the Gospel reading or the benediction or any other number of elements of the liturgy. The absolution, sermon (usually) and words of institution are mine…the rest is up for grabs.

I'd love to uproot our pews and have a more versatile worship space. It's not a make-or-break sort of fight that I feel like having, but I certainly see the possibilities that Nadia describes. Hers sounds like a church that takes seriously the call for everyone to serve one another in community; this pew-less situation embodies that.

I imagine that some serious groundwork would need to be laid for such a thing to work: groundwork that would help people understand why a dozen worship books would just be set near the entrance for people to just pick up and help lead. We all have a part to play; we all have a calling. Amen.

Michigan won the Sugar Bowl. I'm just sayin'.

Epiphany

2012-01-06T10:33:00.000-05:00

It's Epiphany. The 12 days of Christmas (yes, it's more than a song) are officially over. This is the day when pagan astrologers, curious about activity in the night sky they so adeptly watched, set off on a journey to find a child toddling his way around Mary and Joseph's modest abode, bringing him expensive gifts which no doubt raised his parents' eyebrows as they continued to make sense of their collective calling. This is a day to remember that, to remember God's manifestation in Jesus, to remember God's manifestation in all of existence, to talk about the light of the star and the light of our lives.

For me, this is a day seeking that manifestation as I wrestle with a couple things.

I wrestle with being de-friended on Facebook by someone declaring he would no longer be friends with Michigan fans. This was a fraternity brother with whom I was always on good terms, a guy I laughed with and hugged and supported during moments when the group was experiencing fracture. But that was ten years ago, so what is that to anyone now? I tested his resolve, leaving a comment on his status, telling him to make sure he de-friended Coffeewife as well. He didn't seem to give it a second thought. Now I wonder what irritates me more: that a supposed friend did this, or that sports fandom trumped anything else. Probably both.

I wrestle with this damn blog. Today marks seven years since I started, but something has been different for the past year. I feel stale and tired and worry that I'll end up hating writing if this goes on much longer. Change is needed before that happens, most likely time off and then a fresh start, something simpler and newly infused with joy.

I wrestle with what spiritual direction is doing to and in me. This isn't a negative thing, but I wanted to keep with the "wrestling" theme, so it sounds worse than it is. It's challenging me and inspiring me and stretching me in ways I haven't felt in years. I feel more creatively limber than I have in a while, and it's having an effect on my approach to ministry.

I don't wrestle with family, or church, or my calling, or anything like that. 2012 is off to a good start and God is manifesting all over the place. I squint to look past the clouds for the star's clarification to continue unabated.

Book Review: Fallen Pastor by Ray Carroll

2012-01-05T06:38:00.002-05:00

The problem in asking “why” is the fear of justifying the act. Reconciliation is virtually impossible in most situations because the prevailing church culture never wants to condone what originally happened. And instead of seeking our reconciliation and restoration, which are the hallmarks of the church, we ignore the problem hoping it will go away. It never does. The only way to answer the question is to face it and listen to it. - Fallen Pastor, p. 50

In my personal quest to seek out and define the hallmarks of a longer pastorate, I've discovered two things: 1) there are many more than I realized, and 2) they're the sorts of things that pastors constantly hear about doing. I've written before that there is no magic bullet for building a long-term relationship with a congregation. Instead, there is only the intentional and the mundane: taking time off, seeking a support network, and intentional time with family, among others.

There can be darker consequences when pastors do not pursue these sorts of things. As Ray Carroll observes in his book Fallen Pastor, there are much worse things a pastor may end up dealing with than a brief pastorate if he or she isn't vigilant about taking care of oneself.

I randomly discovered Carroll on Twitter one day. At that point, he was tweeting and blogging anonymously, recollecting his own experiences as a former pastor who'd had an affair with a church member. Like many others, I was taken by the parts of his story that he shared, which was and is quite heartbreaking for all involved. Eventually, he was inspired to write a book about his experiences, the experiences of others, and how to help pastors who end up crossing the line. Once he put the word out that he needed people to review the book, I volunteered and was sent an advance copy.

The first, quite lengthy section of Fallen Pastor contains stories from other pastors who'd given into temptation. The specifics of their situations vary somewhat: they're younger or older, serving smaller or larger churches, with or without kids, etc. However, there is a common thread that runs through the factors that eventually lead to affairs: they're overfunctioners who feel incredible pressure from the expectations that their churches place on them (and that they place on themselves) and who end up ignoring their spouses in the process. Carroll actually calls ministry "the first mistress" more than once, referring to when a pastor invests considerable more time and energy in his church than his marriage (in the book, all the pastors he interviews are men). He notes that many pastors do not have a wide circle of non-church friends or some sort of clergy group to lean on, thus being forced to act as "lone rangers" who also frequently assume their non-pastor spouses won't understand their problems.

Carroll notes these commonalities and explores them and basically calls out the entire system in the process. He argues that the church frequently sets itself up to be a culture where the pastor is expected to take on the vast majority of ministry planning and execution while congregants explicitly or implicitly tell him he's actually not doing enough. Carroll does eventually offer some pointers for both pastor and church to change behavior and expectations in order to produce a more healthy culture in which both may work.

There is also lengthy discussion of restoring a pastor after he is found out. Carroll notes a long process with many stages that pastors may go through before even fully realizing and admitting that what they've done is hurtful and wrong. He notes the helpfulness and importance of forgiveness, therapeutic measures, not abandoning the pastor in his darkest moment, and refocusing on Christ rather than success particularly if one ever feels called back to ministry.

The book is written in a very accessible format and style. There were some grammatical and spelling issues that I hope were addressed before the book actually went to print. There were also several ways in which I took issue with the book. First, Carroll places great emphasis on the crossing of the "physical boundary," implying that that is when an affair officially becomes destructive. While I agree that it is a point of no return, I think that the earlier points in the affair are just as troublesome and damaging. If a pastor is spending more time and emotional investment with another person, that may lead to crossing into the physical, but it has already become unhealthy for all involved and affected, including the pastor's own state of mind and the state of his marriage.

My other main gripe with the book is one that can only be helped so much. Carroll comes from a Baptist background that only recognizes the legitimacy of men in pastoral ministry and, as mentioned earlier, the book reflects that. He does interview pastors from American Baptist and Methodist backgrounds--traditions that do recognize women's gifts for pastoral ministry--but no women are interviewed. I would imagine that female pastors struggle with many of the same temptations and endure many of the same factors that could lead to misconduct as male pastors. If women in pastoral ministry can get past the male language used here, this can be just as informative and helpful a book for them as for men.

All in all, Carroll has written a good overview of the issues involved in pastoral misconduct and sin while also noting preventative and restorative measures.

A New Year's Post I Told Myself I Wouldn't Write

2012-01-02T06:33:00.001-05:00

For me personally, 2011 was a pretty good year. I seemed to see a lot of friends through social media express desires for last year to basically go to hell, but I have no big gripes about it.

I think that 2011 was a year of finding balance between family and church. It was a year where I started seeing both a spiritual director and a counselor, where I was challenged to think outside my usual well-worn paths on several fronts for the better. It was a year where the fruits of a longer pastorate began to ripen with promises of more to come. It was a year where Coffeewife finally graduated, Coffeeson was finally potty-trained, and I finally made a decision on more formal schooling myself. It was the year The Rock returned, Michigan football became relevant again, and Five Iron Frenzy reunited.

I can only give thanks for 2011 and all that it included. Not everyone experienced it as such, but I'll remember it as being a positive one rich with celebrations and learning.

So, onto 2012. I don't know if anybody out there cares about a post like this that includes resolutions. I know I barely do. But nevertheless, there are a couple things I'd like to do this year.

1. Make some phone calls. I'm long overdue to talk to some old friends. This needs to happen.

2. Make a dentist's appointment. I'm long overdue for that, too. I get the feeling that it's not going to be pleasant.

3. Keep exercising. I started a "Couch to 5K" thing late last year, but my knee voiced some displeasure with it after a while so I've had to put it on hold. Guess it's back to the not-as-grinding elliptical machine for me.

4. Prepare a book to be self-published. No, seriously. It's time. It's over time. This should finally happen.

See? Nothing too ground-breaking or monumental or overly ambitious. I thought about writing some deeper reflective flourishing prose of some kind, but I really don't feel like it. So this is what you get the Monday after New Year's weekend.

The blog will be here, too. I think about quitting, but it keeps pulling me back. Apparently I still have something to say.

Happy New Year, if that's your thing.

Year-End Pop Culture Roundup

2011-12-30T06:03:00.074-05:00

And so, it's time once again for the final Roundup of the year, where I recap my favorites from the past 12 months. Numbers are for convenience purposes and not really "rankings."

Five Books I Enjoyed in 2011

1. Apparition and Late Fictions -In this collection of short stories (and one novella), Thomas Lynch clearly bases his writing somewhat on his experiences as a mortician and funeral director. I think that such a profession, like ministry, affords one a lot of time to ruminate on the human experience, the nature of relationships and emotions and actions. I guess I find him a kindred spirit in that way. His stories are very good: one concerns a man who takes his father's ashes fishing, another is a woman who teaches at the University of Michigan who takes an extended vacation, and another is about a divorced pastor who becomes a best-selling author. They're not the happiest, though. So you've been warned.

2. The Hunger Games trilogy -In a version of the United States where the country has been recalibrated into twelve districts, Suzanne Collins tells the story of Katniss, who finds herself about to participate in the contest for which the book is named. In order to prevent an uprising, the government has started a program where two kids between the ages of 13 and 18 are chosen from each district to take part in a televised battle to the death. Katniss volunteers after her young sister is chosen. I really thought that I wouldn't like it given the themes, but by the end I couldn't put the first book down, and hurried to read the other two as well. I found myself rooting for Katniss and being genuinely in suspense during the Games themselves. Collins' writing made me care, pulled me into the bleak situation into which the 24 tributes are thrown. The violence is not graphic, but it is presented in unsentimental fashion, the way it should be. Characters do not die honorable or romantic deaths; you very much get the sense that they die as expendable pieces of a game that the government is playing.

3. The Pastor - Eugene Peterson has written a landmark memoir of his life as a pastor, and his evolving understanding of what a pastor is. He eventually ends up defining pastoral ministry as pointing out where God is, calling people to attention to the divine in the midst of their harried, exhausted, boring, or insulated lives. This understanding permeates the rest of the book, through his continued interactions with parishioners who come and go, through the congregation's plan to construct a building, through his burgeoning writing career. Peterson constantly and consistently resists more recent models of pastoral ministry, calling instead for something more humble and contextual. I recognized some themes and stories from other books, but this is a great summary of his conclusions based in experience.

4. Three and Out - John U. Bacon was given unfettered access to the University of Michigan football program the entire time that Rich Rodriguez was head coach. As a result, Bacon has a unique insider's perspective on the fumbled hiring process that brought RichRod to Ann Arbor, the fallout with West Virginia, the crummy games and seasons, the Detroit Free Press's hackjob and subsequent NCAA investigation, the infamous final Football Bust featuring Josh Groban, and the end shortly after. The main thrust, of course, is what Rodriguez goes through and how he reacts to every new dramatic turn, as well as how his staff and players handle it. In delineating all of this, two of Bacon's main points seem to be that 1) Ever since Bo died, there hasn't been anyone to keep the entire program unified and focused, which made the fracturing of the department, alumni, and fanbase all the easier during these three years, and 2) Neither RichRod nor Michigan did enough, publicly or privately, to make this a happy marriage. This was one of the most engrossing books that I've read in quite a while. I can't remember the last time I tried to take advantage of every free moment to read another chapter.

5. The Magician King - This is the sequel to Lev Grossman's excellent and engrossing The Magicians, which I read last year. We pick up pretty much right where we left off, with Quentin and his three friends kings and queens of the magical Narnia-ish world of Fillory. Quentin is getting bored: he has incredible powers in both the magical and royal sense, and life is very easy for him. Longing for a challenge, he eventually sets off in search of the Seven Keys, the incredible importance of which he slowly discovers even if initially he'd just wanted a quest. We also learn about Julia's background, which was probably the more fascinating part of the book for me. The characters face the same questions as in the first book concerning identity and purpose, and there's even a certain desperation on Quentin's part in answering them. I don't know that I'd call this book as good as the last, but it's still up there. The ending is unsatisfying, but it's obviously setting up the reader for the eventual third book of the trilogy.

Five Movies I Enjoyed in 2011

1. The Town - Ben Affleck and Jeremy Renner star as bank robbers who've lived their entire lives in Charlestown, an apparently notorious neighborhood in Boston. After pulling off a job, they realize that the assistant bank manager that they'd briefly abducted lives right in the neighborhood and may end up recognizing them. So Affleck's character tails her and eventually befriends her in order to see whether they're really in trouble that way. Of course, he ends up falling in love with her, and that greatly complicates things. Affleck also directed, and he captured the feel of the city and set the mood very well. There was a certain hopelessness to some of the characters, like they could never be or do anything other than what they knew. Not the happiest movie, but a very good one.

2. Megamind - Will Ferrell voices the title character, a villain constantly battling Metro Man (Brad Pitt) for control of Metro City. Megamind finally succeeds, only to find his life empty and meaningless without a hero to fight. As a result, he seeks to create a replacement with strands of Metro Man's DNA...and it goes horribly wrong. Tina Fey voices reporter and love interest Roxanne Richie, and Jonah Hill is her doofy cameraman. As many times as I've seen it, it's a really fun movie, the voices are perfect, and the soundtrack features quite a few classic metal tracks from the likes of Ozzy, Guns 'N Roses, and AC/DC.

3. Chaos Theory - Ryan Reynolds stars as Frank, an efficiency expert who is incredibly organized and punctual for everything. His wife, meaning to set the clocks ten minutes forward in order to help him be on time for a big presentation, sets them back instead and makes him late, which starts a domino effect of events that disrupt his entire life outlook. Or at least, that's the premise. First off, reading that description caused me to expect something along the lines of Yes Man: overly cautious guy learns to let go and try new things. I was pleasantly surprised that this is a far more weighted film: it does have some humor, but what happens to Frank is far more upsetting and serious. Reynolds, of course, pulls it off very well. Second, the fact that he's ten minutes late is not necessarily the reason why what happens next happens - it could have happened whether he'd been on time or not, but that didn't bother me too much. At times, there isn't really a likable character to be found, but that's part of the messiness that the movie portrays.

4. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2 - This was a great finish to the franchise. It had a lot of action, mostly consisting of the final battle at Hogwarts. But it also managed to hit the right dramatic notes when presenting Snape's background, Harry's preparation to meet Voldemort and accept his initial fate, and the overall chaos of battle that includes the loss of beloved characters. It managed to be a well-balanced movie that way, never feeling slow but also never feeling bogged down with the action sequences.

5. Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows - Robert Downey, Jr. returns as the legendary investigator and Jude Law as his friend, foil, and partner Watson as Holmes faces off with his arch-nemesis Moriarty. I liked this film better than the first (although the first was very good, too): the acting, script, and directing was all quite superb, and the Holmes/Moriarty plot gave it more of a traditional feel than its predecessor. Guy Ritchie has a great eye and feel for pacing, making for an action movie with intelligence, style, and artistry. The ever-present chess metaphor was apt as these two were very much evenly matched throughout, which made for a great story.

Five TV Shows I Enjoyed in 2011

1. NY Ink - Ami James has left his Miami shop and has come back to New York to start a new gig. The shop itself looks like an art gallery, which James made a point of doing as he shares that he wants to be seen as a true artist. This first show had some drama, particularly between two of the shop managers, but moreso between Ami and an artist who basically seems to walk off the street and ask him to return a favor from back in the day. Ami lets him stay, and he immediately clashes with everybody else. The bulk of the season was the drama between Ami and this other artist, but also on the tattoos people get. This was more Miami Ink than LA Ink, and that's a good thing.

2. The Daily Show - This was one of those years where I just became especially fed up with the way government figures and pundits have been acting, and at the same time more fearful of where we're headed as a country. Jon Stewart was a shining light for me as he skewered all of it nightly. It's not that I didn't enjoy his show before now, I just seemed to cling to it a little more in the face of constant indications of Washington's love of politics over people and the media's love for entertainment over information. Stewart et. al. laid it bare four nights a week, and as I watched I hoped that people were paying attention.

3. WWE Money in the Bank - In the mid to late aughts, I began questioning why I still watch professional wrestling. In these years, the WWE has been dominated by John Cena and Randy Orton, but at least in those years we still had Triple H, Shawn Michaels, The Undertaker, and cameos and one-offs by other superstars of years past. But since Michaels and Taker have retired and/or just disappeared, there was a void; no clear current star for whom I could cheer, and Cena & Orton had become very stale, thus rendering the whole product stale. Enter CM Punk, whom I'd always kind of liked but who really captured my interest this summer with his promos calling out Cena and CEO Vince McMahon, and dropping old school appreciation for actual wrestling along the way. He and Cena main-evented this summer's Money in the Bank pay-per-view, which was an electric storyline lead-in and match featuring an excited crowd. CM Punk and this show breathed new life into my fandom.

4. Entourage - The guys came a long way during this show's eight-season run, yet didn't: there was never any serious long-term storyline where any friendships among them were strained, Ari was fired for maybe half a season, and things never looked too bleak for Vince's career despite a major film bombing and his struggles with a cocaine addiction. The show always kept things from getting too serious for too long; people looking for some authentic look into Hollywood lifestyles were bound to be disappointed, save perhaps for the ups and downs of Drama's career. Otherwise, the show always shot for light and fun even in darker moments. To its credit, I think that it was fairly up front about that very early on, so many of those who thought it should be something else probably lost interest a long time ago. I obviously stuck with it even as I was heavily critical of it, because it was fun for what it was.

5. Boardwalk Empire - There was an incredibly dark cloud hanging over the entire cast this season as Nucky dealt with the new adversaries who'd emerged from his inner circle. Over the course of the season, some had sins come back to haunt them, others had to cover up new ones, and some simply followed them to their natural conclusion. The finale made me angry in a way that a TV show never has, but in part it was because there was no other way for things to play out. People made their choices and inevitably became victims of those choices at the hands of the ones holding all the cards. Unfortunately for the series and for many viewers, one of the most sympathetic and complex characters is now gone, leaving me to wonder who I'll be rooting for in season three.

Five Albums I Enjoyed in 2011

1. The King is Dead, The Decemberists - One of my favorite bands put out an album this year that is much more straightforward than their last two with simple arrangements and a country/folk feel, with some help from Gillian Welch and REM's Peter Buck. Aside from the first single, "Down By the Water," the fightin' words of "Rox in the Box" and the aptly named "January Hymn" have become favorites for me.

2. Sigh No More, Mumford and Sons - I was first exposed to this band through their performance at the Grammys, and thought, "Wow, I should check out more of their stuff." And then I didn't for a couple months. When I finally downloaded their whole album, I've enjoyed their high-energy brand of British folk-rock. The two singles, "The Cave" and "Little Lion Man" are good, but "Dust Bowl Dance" is another favorite and is pretty apropos for the situation our country finds itself in nowadays. But really, the whole album is very good.

3. The Unspeakable Chilly Gonzales - I came across this artist and album by sheer chance one afternoon while surfing the web. Chilly Gonzales is the alter ego of Jason Beck, a skilled pianist and composer, who raps to orchestral arrangements. This was easily the most quirky and creative album that I heard this year.

4. Obadiah Parker Live - I walked into my favorite coffeehouse and heard Parker's acoustic cover of Outkast's "Hey Ya," and was immediately hooked. I downloaded this live EP which includes the song as a bonus track. The entire album is excellent, mixing elements of blues, funk, rock, and folk for kind of a jamband sound.

5. El Camino, The Black Keys - The Keys are a late entry, only because they released this album near the beginning of this month. This is a more playful offering for them, still featuring crunchy guitar riffs and stomp-rock drum beats. "Lonely Boy" is a fun uptempo tune, and "Little Black Submarines" has an anthemic "Stairway to Heaven" feel to it.

Five Blogs I Enjoyed in 2011

1. Jesus Needs New PR - Matthew Paul Turner has a great deal of experience with Christian schlock, and now he compiles it from around the web in one convenient location. Besides that, he also offers reflections about what the church should really concern itself with, and wondering why we Christians don't concern ourselves more with it instead of trying to out-crazy each other.

2. Tertium Squid - Gordon Atkinson re-emerged with another blog after stepping away from RealLivePreacher and pastoral ministry. This new venture still features a bit of ecclesiological decompression, but Gordon's talent as a wordsmith, of calling out the poetry that is all around us, remains firmly intact. His writing has influenced me a great deal, and I'm glad to be able to continue reading new offerings.

3. Brant's Blog - Brant Hansen also re-emerged with yet another new blog after changing radio station jobs. It's the same old Brant, though: thoughtful reflections about God, the church, and culture in general, delivered with a great deal of humor and gentleness.

4. Jamie the Very Worst Missionary - Jamie Wright is a missionary in Costa Rica. She offers stories of her experience, calls people to greater awareness of what the poor really need, emphasizes relationships with others, and has a very awesome, very dry sense of humor.

5. MGoBlog - After so many years, do I need to explain this one any more?

Hunger Games Trailer + Announcement-type Content

2011-12-27T06:00:00.001-05:00

Hi.

I hope that your holiday season has been a good one, whatever the specifics you observe.

Mine was excellent. For someone like me, obviously, it involved a lot of worship. Christmas Eve was its usual time of reflective quiet, and Christmas Day was just fun. Aside from that, good times were had with family and I ate too much.

So. A few notes.

First, here is the trailer for the movie version of The Hunger Games, for which both I and Coffeewife are very excited. I meant to put this in the last Pop Culture Roundup, but forgot. Watch, and anticipate:

Woo!

Now, the reason I didn't wait to just post this in the next Roundup directly relates to my other announcement: this Friday will be the last Roundup of 2011, which means it will be no ordinary Roundup. Instead, it will be The Super-Fantastic Mega-Awesome Year-End Pop Culture Roundup of Doom...er...Love and Happiness. There will be lists (LISTS!) of things (THINGS!) that I especially enjoyed over the course of this past year in books, movies, TV, music, and blogging. So make sure you tune in.

After that, it'll be 2012. So here's an early Happy Most Overrated Holiday Ever and another Go Blue, Beat the Hokies, and a really early Shut Up, The World Isn't Going to End Next Year. And that's pretty much it for now.

"Who Notices Now?" - A Christmas Eve Prayer

2011-12-24T06:54:00.001-05:00

Where in your world is it quiet? Where in your world is there light?

In a time of occupation and oppression,
a time of purported destiny acted out through victory over others,
a time of starvation for many, survival for most, and plenty for a few,
a time of elevating earthly leaders and states to godhood,
a peasant girl walked unnoticed.

You visited. You proclaimed.
Somehow your grace fit inside her human frame and would birth that same grace to a noisy, cluttered, anxious world.

In a crowded city,
while war raged elsewhere,
while people cried out in their hunger,
while Caesar was praised,
a baby was born in a barn.

Who noticed?

The Savior is born. Who notices now?
Will those ordering or carrying out attacks notice?
Will those suffering from bloated bellies or their uncaring overseers notice?
Will those trusting modern Caesars to save them notice?
Will the grieving, the self-shaming, the unforgiving, or the exhausted notice?
Will we in our noise and darkness notice?

We ponder the mystery of Light and Love Enfleshed.
We silently ask where it happens and where it is possible.
We grope to see and hear it in the darkness and the din.

Through One become skin, bone, and blood, you show the wheres and hows of noticing,
the wheres and hows of silence,
the wheres and hows of grace-filled days,
and we re-discover that in your world, it can be seen and heard everywhere.

Blue Christmas

2011-12-22T06:20:00.001-05:00

Cast: Michigan Head Coach Brady Hoke, OC Al Borges, DC Greg Mattison, QB Denard Robinson, and legendary fan Lloyd Brady.

HT to MGoBlog, of course.

Wondering What It's Like

2011-12-19T06:17:00.006-05:00

Longtime readers of this blog know that I have a thing about longer pastorates. I've come to conclude that my life experience and the general state of the American Church necessitates that I strive for and study how to achieve them. I spent a five-week sabbatical reading and thinking about them. I've written numerous posts about why the subject is important to me. Yeah, I consider it kind of a big deal.

The question that I use as a handy reference point to gauge the state of a pastorate goes like this: "What's it like to preach during your tenth Christmas Eve service with the same congregation?" By that point, are you approaching it as a completely routine thing? Do you grumble, "here we go again," and roll your eyes while seeking something new to say? Are you recycling stories or entire sermons by that point? Does the event of Christmas Eve feel special to you anymore? What's your internal monologue and spirit like by that point?

The question has a few different aspects to it, and you can really ask it of anything that happens on a church's calendar year-in and year-out. It's the sort of question meant to evaluate one's relationship to the church, the state of one's creativity, one's sense of call to a particular people, one's sense of ministry in general, and other things I haven't thought to mention. If you've made it to your tenth Christmas Eve service and are still striving to approach familiar themes in new ways, that's a good sign. If you've made it that far and are feeling at a loss or not feeling much in general, that's a much different sort of sign, isn't it?

A month or so ago as I was thinking about this question, it fully hit me that I'll be preaching my eighth Christmas Eve in less than a week. It's not ten, but we're getting closer, and at this point I foresee us hitting ten with little trouble. But for that to happen, our relationship must retain a certain level of dynamism and I personally must nurture a creative energy that allows me to prepare for Christmas Eve and other events with a sustained level of anticipation. If I've learned anything as I've reflected on what makes a longer pastorate work, it's that such things take intentionality; they don't just happen.

As Advent winds to a close, the fourth and final candle has been lit: love. The word is used so often in so many different contexts that it's always in danger of becoming a watered-down catch-all for any number of things. But love can be hard work; it doesn't just happen. It takes vigilance, creativity, and constant nurturing. There are many pastors--active or retired--who at some point stopped trying. It's like they woke up one morning and decided they didn't need to learn anything more about ministry, or technology, or the wider culture and the church's place in it. Inertia carries them to retirement, and then they keep serving as interims or on influential judicatory boards, which can create other problems. I hasten to add that this is not true of all retired pastors, just the ones who've mentally checked out of the church's present situation. I don't know whether pastors who fall into this group ever experienced a tenth Christmas Eve in one place or how they handled it if they did. I suppose that you can love someone without trying too hard in a relationship, but I'm not sure how well that really qualifies as love.

I like to think that this eighth time preaching Christmas Eve will still be a lively and life-giving thing. I pray that our tenth one together is, too. And I pray that if I ever wake up some morning and decide that I don't need to learn anything more that I'll love the church enough to let it go.

Pop Culture Roundup

2011-12-16T06:27:00.011-05:00

I'm still reading This Odd and Wondrous Calling. I'm in no hurry to get through it, and I even wonder whether I should be reading something else. Copenhaver and Daniel share good stories and reflections; I just don't feel a sense of urgency about finishing it. I do have to give Daniel props for playing bass in a punk band before she started seminary...for someone who seems to have become so entrenched in the Progressive Christian Establishment since those days, I was glad to have learned that about her. Copenhaver, meanwhile, shares his reservations about telling people that he's a pastor, which I completely understand. He tells a great story of meeting a jazz musician to that effect.

Last week, Coffeewife and I burned through all the episodes of Boardwalk Empire that we've missed in the span of 2-3 days just in time for the season finale on Sunday night. Nucky dealt with his new adversaries in Jimmy, his brother Eli, and the Commodore surprisingly well. There was an incredibly dark cloud hanging over the entire cast: some had sins come back to haunt them, others had to cover up new ones, and some simply followed them to their natural conclusion. The finale made me angry in a way that a TV show never has, but in part it was because there was no other way for things to play out. People made their choices and inevitably became victims of those choices at the hands of the ones holding all the cards. Unfortunately for the series and for many viewers, one of the most sympathetic and complex characters is now gone, leaving me to wonder who I'll be rooting for in season three.

In an intriguing bit of TV news, Christopher Meloni is joining the cast of True Blood for season 5. As in, the guy who was Detective Stabler will now be playing a vampire. How's that for range? Now I'm honestly interested in the next season instead of watching it just because I've been watching it.

The Black Keys' newest album, El Camino, was released on December 6th. It features some of the Keys' staples like grinding guitar riffs and stomping drums. I've been enjoying it immensely the past week and a half. Here's the video for "Lonely Boy:"

And here's a snare drumline playing a rendition of "Little Drummer Boy:"

Putting Advent in Park

2011-12-13T06:17:00.001-05:00

I'm going to let everyone in on a little secret. This secret varies from church to church and from pastor to pastor, but I wonder if it generally isn't true for most pastors of most churches my size.

Ready? Here it is: December is one of the slowest months of the year for me as a pastor.

A lot of people, even some other pastors, assume that due to the activities of Advent and Christmas, pastors are just completely frazzled during the month of December. The assumption is that we're running around, constantly coordinating and calling and organizing and making sure everything is lined up in just the right way to ensure the perfect season for our members.

Nope. Our church has a Christmas program and two extra worship services, and that's about it. I do take great care to plan what I need to plan and lead what I need to lead, but this month does not feature the whirlwind of holiday chaos around the church that people think it does. In fact, now that this weekend has passed, I actually experience an incredible dropoff in activity.

No committees other than our governing board want to meet. What do we really have to do that can't wait until January? Who wants to meet with the pastor while they're busy lining up their own holiday plans? Only a couple fellowship groups forge on with their usual meeting plans this month. Basically, because people are trying to handle their own stuff at home and at work (I've already been to two Christmas parties through Coffeewife's job), they don't want to (or simply can't) devote as much time to the church this month.

Sometimes the best act of ministry is not acting.

It actually works out for me as well: it allows me to handle my own shopping and whatnot, but also because it allows me to take in the quiet of the decorated sanctuary without feeling much of a need to rush to much of anything.

For this reason, I've come to like our Blue Christmas service, which was held this past Sunday evening. For those who are unfamiliar, Blue Christmas (sometimes called a Longest Night service) is a time for those who don't find the holiday season to be joyful for one reason or another. It's a chance for people to come and be quiet for a while, taking a break from the season's busyness.

I started it shortly after I began here, and I think attendance peaked at around 20 people a couple years ago. We had 14 on Sunday. My earlier reaction would have been to despair at how big of a failure this service is and wonder why more don't come. This year, I was content to just sit and be quiet myself, relishing my first opportunity to sing "O Come O Come Emmanuel" and the low impact nature of the entire service: the expectations seem low, and it's just a matter of letting the songs and words take the lead and not to force anything.

After the service, an even smaller handful of us gathered for some fellowship time, content to munch on cookies and make small talk about mutual friends. A few of the older ladies tried to set up another young man with their granddaughters. We shared concerns about another member's barn burning down. We laughed and made new acquaintances and didn't move too fast doing any of it.

Believe it or not, this season does have more than one speed. I know, I saw it happen on Sunday. We don't need a service for that: it'd be ironic to have to schedule something in order to remind people to slow down. But if that's what it takes, then so be it.

Small Sips Is Going Bowling

2011-12-08T06:11:00.008-05:00

Gimme some sugar, baby. Yeah, I said it. The Michigan Wolverines have been selected to play in the Sugar Bowl on January 3rd against Virginia Tech:

The Sugar Bowl will serve as Michigan's first trip to a BCS game since the 2007 Rose Bowl. The Wolverines lost that game to USC, 32-18. One year later, Michigan made it to the Capital One Bowl and beat the Tim Tebow-led Florida Gators in Lloyd Carr's last game as head coach. Rich Rodriguez's first two seasons didn't produce any trips to bowl games, but last year Michigan made it to the Gator Bowl. It was a forgettable trip, though. Mississippi State blasted Michigan by a score of 52-14.

Michigan has only played in the Sugar Bowl once before in its history. The Wolverines lost to Auburn by a score of 9-7 in the 1984 edition of the game to finish with a 9-3 record. This year Michigan has already won 10 games, meaning a win over Virginia Tech would give the Wolverines their first 11-win season since 2006.

What is this strange sensation that I'm feeling inside? 'Tis a feeling I've not felt in some time. Ah yes, it's the feeling that comes with being able to root for a football team that is...what is the word...good.

Anyway, I've come to appreciate certain things a whole lot more after enduring the past few years as a Michigan fan. These things include winning seasons, playing defense, field goals, beating opponents you're expected to beat, and going to bowl games that may even include the possibility of winning them.

Sparty? No. Not everybody is happy about Michigan's bowl selection. Michigan State's Kirk Cousins, as a completely random example:

"Michigan sat home tonight on the couch and watched us," the senior said shortly after the game's conclusion. "We played our hearts out — you saw it. I don't see how you get punished for playing and someone else gets to sit on the couch and get what they want.

"If this is the way the system is, I guess it's a broken system."

Michigan senior defensive lineman Ryan Van Bergen, who has become something of a team spokesman on a lot of matters this year, weighed in on Cousins' comments Sunday, shortly after learning of the Wolverines' bowl fate.

His message: Want to trade?

"If he wants to go sit on a couch and watch us play in the Big Ten championship game, then he can do that," Van Bergen said. "They had an opportunity to go the Rose Bowl. It was sitting right in front of them for them to grab. They didn't seize the opportunity.

"I think that they'll do well in the Outback Bowl. Best of luck. Best wishes. We're going to the Sugar Bowl, and we're excited about it."

MSU did indeed beat Michigan in October. However, MSU also lost in convincing fashion to both Notre Dame and Nebraska, both of whom Michigan beat. Also, call me crazy but I'm pretty sure that 10-2 is better than 10-3. As Van Bergen said, they had their shot to go to a BCS game and Spartied their way out of it when one of their players roughed Wisconsin's kicker near the end of the Big Ten title game. Generally, there is room to argue that the Big Ten runner-up should be considered for a BCS game, but the particulars make that more complicated.

Of course, I think the choices for the BCS Title game are bogus, so none of us are happy are we?

On a related note, I plan to be in Ann Arbor this next fall when this last and most annoying (and that's saying something) losing streak comes to an end. Good luck in the Outback, Sparty.

The JM Smucker Section Suggesting a Renaming of Bowls. MGoBlog writer Seth has a pretty funny rant about bowl sponsorships:

First there was the Rose. At this point let's not pretend like this wasn't a marketing ploy because the entire point of the Rose Bowl was to prove to skeptical Easterners that it really is sunny and 70 in January in Pasadena. But at some point the marketing went from "come see our lovely town" to how much can we annoy you. This is where I come in. I carry a keyboard.

When there were fewer bowls the funny names were okay, especially when they matched the local industry. The Citrus and Tangerine and Orange and Gator screamed Florida. The Peach was very Georgia. The Liberty Bowl at least began in Philly and had a logo of the Liberty Bell. The Refrigerator Bowl was in the Refrigerator Capital of the World—if you knew where that was you could place the bowl game.

With naming rights to bowls now going for less than Pryor made in extra benefits (oh snap!) it is time to revolt.

This should have been done before a company called Mine-hickey Care Bear or some such sullied one "hallowed" bowl with that name, let alone its second (map by Hinton):

Going with this week's theme of whining about things that will never happen, here's my plea to readers and bloggers alike for dealing with the billions of bad names and barnacle-like corporate monikers affixing themselves to your bowls.

Why care? Without getting into the mercenary finances of the bowls I don't care that companies buy naming rights. I care that they are very bad at it, and that this makes the bowlscape very unhelpful. It is not my intent to restrict or confine or dictate language. I'm just tired of having to Google where the Maaco Bowl is.

Nothing to add, really. Just read the whole thing. It's pretty amusing.

Fergodsakes. I just wanted a chance to post this pre-game video:

Go Blue. Beat the Hokies!

The Triple Colloquy

2011-12-05T06:16:00.010-05:00

In my journey through Ignatius' Spiritual Exercises, I've been encouraged lately to reflect on sin: its effect on my life, how the surrounding world influences me in negative ways, how self-aware I really am, and how repulsive and wretched my sins really are. This is the "First Week" of the Exercises, although the version that I am observing has this Week spanning several calendar weeks.

A friend and colleague of mine is making her own way through the Exercises, and is actually set to go through the program at the Ignatian Spirituality Institute the same time that I will (pity the professors now). When recently discussing our experiences of the Exercises, we talked for a while about how grounded they are in a particular tradition. In contrast, we Protestants aren't always good at exploring the true depth of an idea of tradition. Many of us make nebulous claims that the Bible or Christ are all we need, but we don't often use any strand of Christian tradition as a lens or guide, however imperfect, to interpreting those things.*

Some will undoubtedly be turned off by how Catholic the Exercises are. There have been occasions when the meditation for the day has encouraged me to say the Hail Mary or petition a saint, which admittedly has thrown up some roadblocks for me. This past week was no different, when I was invited to pray through something called The Triple Colloquy.

You begin by preparing yourself for prayer and centering yourself in your world. You seek to become aware of your own yearnings and how the world around you influences you. This part probably wouldn't raise many red flags for people. After this point, however, you are invited to ask Mary for help in becoming aware of your sins. This took me a long time to warm up to, let alone understand. As my spiritual director explained, however, I could choose someone besides Mary for this part of the exercise. For one reason or another, I decided against Mary and opted to talk to my friend Darren instead.

That first night did not go well. I came to this part of the exercise and paused for a very long time. For one thing, I just didn't understand what I was doing. My Protestantness was on full display that evening, as I've never looked into the practice of petitioning Mary or the saints too closely. For another, there were aspects of this that caused it to feel more like a seance than a time of meditation. Finally, I know of others who regularly talk to deceased relatives and friends, but I can't recall a single instance when I've felt inspired to do so. In effect, I've never tried to talk directly to Darren since I last saw him alive. This all comes back to my incredible ignorance going into this, and I probably just shouldn't have done it without doing more research.

Nevertheless, after a time of centering myself, I did the best I could. I began, "Darren." There was a very long pause here. "You seemed to understand Catholic practices, so I'm gonna need your help with this because I'm so out of my comfort zone." The rest of what I said wasn't very long, as I asked for a new awareness of my sins and other similar requests the meditation encouraged me to make. After this I did the same with Jesus, and then with God, hence the "triple" in Triple Colloquy.

I made sure to do some reading before the next night. As it turns out, the understanding of petitioning Mary or a saint is not a prayer per se, but asking for aid in prayer much the same way you ask for prayers from the living. We are surrounded by this great cloud of witnesses who are continually willing to help us and to pray for us. This is the type of thing that can bust one's theology of resurrection wide open, particularly if yours isn't well-developed. As I read, I thought back to my conversation with my friend about being grounded in tradition and attaining a depth of theological understanding that many Christians don't necessarily have access to or care for.

That next night, I felt much more comfortable talking to Darren, drawing much more of a sense of peace and support from the meditation than the previous evening. I found it far more comforting to be surrounded by loved ones missed, beloved, and whose memories and presence I still treasure.

*In reality, we all have such lenses or guides, however horribly honed and defined. In most cases we just aren't aware of them or don't want to acknowledge them as part of our claim to a supposedly more pure approach.

Pop Culture Roundup

2011-12-02T06:24:00.004-05:00

I started reading This Odd and Wondrous Calling this past week, where Lillian Daniel and Martin Copenhaver share stories and experiences from their time in pastoral ministry. I resisted picking up this book for a long time, both because I've read so many books on ministry but also because I've taken issue with things that Daniel has written in the past. But there was something about my looming anniversary with my church and the questions and issues it has raised that inspired me to take up and read. Daniel and Copenhaver tag team on the chapters, balancing each chapter with story and reflection. In the first few, Daniel tells of discovering that three years of graduate school had really just prepared her for council arguments about chili mac, while Copenhaver reflects on learning to pray in seminary after a lifetime spent in the church. The book has a light tone and is easy reading. Not sure how much it's helping me, but it's fine for what it is.

It's been nearly three months since the second season of Boardwalk Empire started, and I just sat down this week to watch the first episode. Of course, most of it was just revisiting where the characters are, reminding us that some of Nucky's closest allies are actually plotting against him. They also seem to be developing bigger storylines for characters who weren't as prominent in the first season, such as Chalky and Richard. Of course, it's only the first episode and readers who've been watching know whether this is really the case. Anyway, it was nice to finally start catching up.

On Monday Night RAW the past few weeks, there have been URLs to Youtube videos appearing on the bottom of the screen that tell of something scheduled to happen on January 2nd. Here's the latest:

The content suggests The Undertaker, but the viral/code stuff suggests Chris Jericho. Either way is a win.

As mentioned last week, Five Iron Frenzy has reunited and they've already released a new song called "It Was a Dark and Stormy Night:"

Finally, this porcupine ain't sharing his corn:

O God, In Whom We Have Our Life

2011-11-30T06:35:00.002-05:00

A couple months ago, I woke up and thought, "I think I'll write an Advent hymn today." So I did. Here are the words, to the tune of "O God Our Help in Ages Past:"

O God, in Whom we have our life, in Whom our being dwells,
We thank you for your promised sign of hope: Emmanuel.

In stories passed through centuries, in this our current time,
And in all moments yet to come you guide all humankind.

Awaiting Christ’s approaching birth, we open wide our hearts
To be transformed, that selfish, sinful ways from them depart.

O God, through Whom new life occurs, in Whom our being dwells,
We ever seek your promised sign of love: Emmanuel.

We sang it this past Sunday as our opening hymn, and I think it went well. There's something about hearing people sing words that you wrote that is incredibly cool.

The Broken Chain

2011-11-28T06:12:00.013-05:00

When most people envision a career for themselves, I think that there's a certain idealism that is common among them. Most who embark into the world, degree fresh in hand, have an idea for how things will play out; how they'll work their way up the ladder, or create a life right out of the American Dream Storybook, or change some portion of the world for the better. These dreams and goals are good motivators; sparkling cinder blocks on which a foundation of the Perfect Life may be built, whatever that may look like.

Once most of us make it out into the Real World--which is really the same world, just with less safety nets--we quickly realize that this dream, if it truly is feasible, is going to be a lot harder to attain than we thought. Before Coffeewife and I were married, we talked about working ourselves through grad school at the same time while living on love and Ramen noodles, the two of us happy little hipsters in the big city, books strewn around our shoebox apartment, legs intertwined while both of us studied for final exams. Reality was very different: Coffeewife took one class at St. Louis University before we discovered that this sort of a life wasn't going to work. We had bills and rent and my tuition already to keep up with, and both of us being in school was not going to produce very much income. So she found a job as a server at Red Lobster and later a second job at a children's inpatient psychiatric facility, and we began to muddle our way through an existence far different than what we'd pictured.

Coffeewife ended up on the fast track to a management position at the restaurant, which certainly provided more income, but it still wasn't what she wanted to do with her life. Her time at the children's facility had triggered something in her, however, and once I landed at a church she started to make plans to take up her own studies yet again, first a nursing degree followed quickly by a Master's as a Nurse Practitioner, specializing in adolescent psychology. It's not the Ph.D she talked about in her original undergrad studies, but it's nevertheless in the field she's most passionate about. This is the sort of thing that happens when what we think will be slams up against what is: maybe we hit the mark we want, maybe we take a detour before arriving to a close enough alternative, or maybe we end up working 12-hour days serving seafood much longer than we'd like, still wondering how things can be different someday.

Seven years ago today, I stood up in front of my congregation to lead worship for the first time. I was filled with as much hope as any new seminary graduate, and even though I botched the announcements right out of the gate (I didn't realize the prelude came first), I knew it would just be a matter of settling in, learning the ropes, and continuing on beloved traditions while slowly tweaking and changing and modifying things to keep us all as faithful as we could be.

It didn't take long for what actually is to tell me otherwise. As it turned out, beloved programs and ministries that had been in place for decades were not doing so well. In my first couple years, we bade goodbye to our women's guild, our choir, and our quilting group. There has not been a whole lot to serve simply as replacements, and thus I've had to make it a major part of my ministry to dream of new possibilities for fellowship and music, not to mention mission and, much more recently, education.

I've mentioned before that Christian education is not my strong suit, and yet we currently find ourselves in great danger of many longstanding activities falling by the wayside in the near future--a future much nearer than I'd anticipated, in fact--unless something perhaps radically different begins to happen. This is now a familiar refrain for me: we've needed to apply "unless something radically different begins to happen" so often, a trend that will continue not just for as long as I am here, but probably everywhere I will serve in ministry. The days of beginning in a new call and walking into a bevy of inherited groups and programs that will mostly just need nurturing and maintenance while working on new initiatives are waning, if they've really existed at all for years. I doubt that the previous generation of pastors had to deal with it the way we have to, and yet here we are in a new cultural moment that is judging familiar models to be obsolete. It's certainly not what we who recently have entered ministry expected, nor was it something that was mentioned much during seminary, probably because not many people there could see it either.

This past weekend was the Game. As usual, I read up on things at MGoBlog beforehand anticipating an afternoon of long-awaited relief and redemption. I eventually combed back through the archives there to find a post that Brian wrote after the 2008 Game during which he imagines a pre-game speech by then-coach Rich Rodriguez:

Nothing you were told about this place has come true. You came here and found a different coaching staff and a different team. A plainly deficient team. No one recognizes you. You run out in the same uniforms but what you do is unrecognizable to these people. This… what we have here is broken. The things we do do not work. The culture we have is dysfunctional. This program is a heap of ash.

You did not sign up for this. And you have every power and inclination to leave. Some of you will. Fine. No one will blame you. It's cold and people scorn you and there are so many of them.

Some of you will stay. And you will go insane. You will work, and you will work, and we will build something here from nothing. Because, make no mistake, this is nothing. You will build something out of this. If you're a senior next year and you teach some freshman something, you will build something. If you're a freshman and you refuse to quit on your stupid decision, you will build something.

What you build will be yours. Few in the great history of his university have had that opportunity. Everything came based on what came before. They were part of a great chain, now broken.

Those of you who stay will forge a new one, starting today. When we are done we will fix the last link to the broken chain, and break the first link, and tell those who come after us to live up to it.

This first week of Advent is meant to be focused on hope, on the anticipation that something new and exciting and life-giving will overtake this present moment of uncertainty and anxiety. Hope is what carries us forward when we fully realize that whatever we thought life would be like isn't going to materialize. It sustains us when we're asked to build something from nothing rather than simply continuing on with whatever we thought we'd signed up for.

Some are very hopeful for the future of the church, others are quite fearful. Plenty of my freshly-minted colleagues have come in, taken a look around, and walked right back out. Those of us who stay, however we feel about what we've inherited, rely on hope in order to keep placing one foot in front of the other, seeking to help create a new chain that may not much resemble what came before, but hopefully will be faithful nonetheless.

WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

2011-11-26T15:39:00.005-05:00

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy Thanksgiving

2011-11-24T06:32:00.003-05:00

HT to Jesus Needs New PR.

Five Iron Frenzy Reunites

2011-11-22T21:11:00.005-05:00

My favorite ska band and my favorite "Christian" band is reuniting to record a new album. Their goal is to release it in 2013, but they're doing it all on their own. Here's their official announcement:

We can’t believe it has actually been 8 years ago today that we rocked out with you at the Fillmore in Denver, on a snowy evening as we celebrated our last show. Now, all these years (and marriages and kids) later we feel the desire to write new material and make a record!

So, down to business:
We need your support now more than ever. The inspiration and energy to create an amazing record is there but this time we will be working without the support of a label. This gives us incredible artistic freedom, but it also means we need to raise our own financing.

Our hope is to release an album in 2013, ten years after our initial final show. We are shooting for the financial goal of $30,000. Your pledges will be used to pay for demoing new material, recording, mixing, mastering, and associated travel expenses.

Keep in mind, this budget covers making the album only. Every dollar we raise over $30,000 will be used for such things as promotion of the album once it’s released because we think it would be great to have this album reach as many people as possible! Additional funds could also enable us to play some shows, because yes, we would love to play shows! We will keep you posted every step of the way.

We have recorded this song for you as a little taste of our new material. We are super proud of how it turned out and hope you rock out to it and share it with your friends.

Thank you so much, every one of you for all the love, kindness, support, humor, prayers and friendship you have shown us since 1995. To our absolute joy this band continues to be more than just a band to many of you….and you are more than just folks at a show to us. If the past is any indication of the future we may all be in for a very wild ride.

This. Is. Freaking. Awesome.

You can download the new song here.

For more on my love for this band, read this.

Pop Culture Roundup

2011-11-18T06:31:00.005-05:00

I read The Magician King by Lev Grossman, the sequel to his excellent and engrossing The Magicians, which I read last year. We pick up pretty much right where we left off, with Quentin and his three friends kings and queens of the magical Narnia-ish world of Fillory. Quentin is getting bored: he has incredible powers in both the magical and royal sense, and life is very easy for him. Longing for a challenge, he eventually sets off in search of the Seven Keys, the incredible importance of which he slowly discovers even if initially he'd just wanted a quest. We also learn about Julia's background, which was probably the more fascinating part of the book for me. The characters face the same questions as in the first book concerning identity and purpose, and there's even a certain desperation on Quentin's part in answering them. I don't know that I'd call this book as good as the last, but it's still up there. The ending is unsatisfying, but it's obviously setting up the reader for the eventual third book of the trilogy.

I watched The Adjustment Bureau this week, starring Matt Damon as David, a former New York Congressman who discovers a mysterious group that intervenes in his and other people's lives in order to "keep them on plan." After his discovery, he's encouraged to forget what he's seen, which of course he finds impossible to do. As he attempts to change their plans for him, there is discussion about free will, human fallibility, and black-and-white vs. emotion. One of the Bureau members argues that every time in history that humans have been left to make their own decisions, it has led to times and events such as the Dark Ages, World War I, and the Holocaust. So, he says, "you don't have free will, just the appearance of free will." Decisions and destinies are controlled by an off-screen figure only known as "The Chairman," who is eventually revealed to be willing even to react and change according to human choice. The film is great fodder for theological discussion.

Coffeeson has become very interested in the TV show Yo Gabba Gabba, where DJ Lance Rock and his wacky bunch of puppet characters learn about things like space, robots, making new friends, healthy food, and all the other usual sorts of things that kid shows usually teach about. The show is very musical in nature, with all sorts of guest artists, songs, and dances. And the artists they choose aren't the usual ones you'd expect: The Aquabats (lead singer Christian Jacobs is co-creator), The Shins, and the Aggrolites. There's an entire episode where Jack Black guest-stars and does wacky Jack Black things. The show makes use of old school video game visuals and dance remixes of the songs they sing through the episode. I was skeptical at first, but after a while the show really won me over.

Here are two cats talking while playing pattycake:

The Death of a Ministry

2011-11-15T06:39:00.001-05:00

Most churches do their best to offer a variety of ministries. Some are fellowship-based, some more educational, some more service-oriented, and on and on and on. And if organized the right way, there can be a lot of energy and excitement in the early stages: people are getting on board with the new venture, look forward to something different, and at times can't believe the church has either never done something like it before or that it's finally happening.

The bigger trick to any ministry is in the sustaining of it. How do you keep up a certain level of excitement and involvement after those initial good feelings have worn off? How do you keep something from becoming an institution; a bureaucratic lifeless activity, or something pathetically clung to by a small handful of people who rationalize that, well, people will show up in droves if you just publicize it more? All manner of tactics may be used when it reaches that point: browbeating, guilt trips, extra shiny fliers, or just running the same trick harder. In the majority of these instances, such things don't work.

I've presided over the ending of such ministries. It came as a surprise to me, but it was one of my earliest learnings about the state of most churches: the same approach to fellowship that involve ladies sipping tea and wearing hats, or the same approach to music where robed people sit separated from their families the entire service don't garner the same eagerness that they once did. Thus, my church has said goodbye to some of these things since I arrived, complete with some of the aforementioned rationalization (and maybe a little insinuation that I torpedoed at least one of them...look, when your choir is down to a half dozen people, half of whom were planning to quit soon anyway, it was inevitable).

I've also overseen the short life of a few newer ministries. Before I more fully understood how younger generations gather in community, I tried to organize a young adult group. As I recall, it met three times and was already losing steam by that third time.

More recently, there's been my pub discussion group. Ever since my first dips in the emerging church pool, I'd wanted to organize one. I loved the idea of enjoying fellowship outside the church walls, of appealing to people who'd more naturally gather in places like those to begin with, and of engaging in dialogue in a more relaxed setting. Call it a hobbyhorse of mine that the church needs to do some different things that seem radical even to its own members (trust me, I heard all about it).

Here's the thing about pub discussion groups, or any new church activity: context is important. This is Ministry 101, really. Most pub discussion groups that I've read about happen in contexts far different than Smalltownsville USA: they happen in college towns or larger metropolises. I don't hear much about them happening in communities like mine. People like their pubs around here as much as anybody, but the thought of a church group meeting in one? The disconnect is glaring.

I have a core group of three people who've come, with other stragglers here and there. This past Friday night, I sat in the parking lot long enough to realize that no one was coming, and I drove back home to eat a late dinner. I don't blame anyone, and I don't even really blame the context or organizational methods or anything else. Sometimes, a certain ministry just doesn't work in a certain place.

I'm not necessarily going to completely bury this ministry just yet, probably mostly because I'm just a stubborn SOB like that. But I can't help but think that we're pretty much done, and that it'll soon be time to say last rites and try something else.

The other side of this is the feelings that accompany such a realization. It may be failure, or disappointment, or frustration, or a certain lostness that really points beyond one faltering group to the state of things in general. For my part, sure, it's disappointing. This was one of those activities that would surely signal that we're adjusting to our new day and age. I didn't put all my eggs in this basket, but the basket was pretty full.

In this instance, I feel a strange calm. Call it maturity or a more seasoned outlook or even numbness, but I don't feel the ennui that I felt in earlier years when something ended up fizzling out. I'm much more willing to admit that this just doesn't work in this place, or maybe at least in the way that I tried to do it. I accept that there was probably a better way, perhaps even without a clear-cut name and meeting time and whatever else. I haven't figured that out yet.

For now, I shrug, process a little with the few core people who did attend, and move on. Really, what else is there to do?

Vintage POC: Darren

2011-11-10T06:22:00.001-05:00

From February 2008. It's been nine years since the events of this post took place. Its seemed like as good a time as any to re-post it.

While I was in college, I joined a fraternity. A lot of people who have never been in a fraternity or sorority wonder what possibly could have possessed me to do such a thing. In fact, I surprised myself the day I seriously began considering it. My experience of this consideration happened because two members lived across the hall from me my freshman year, I’d come to know a few others through my involvement with the Athletic Band and a few others through campus ministries. Essentially, I started relationships with a lot of the guys before I pledged, and as a result going through the process became a real possibility after a while. I got to know them first, and wound up pledging because of that.

That isn’t the full explanation, but it chiefly boils down to relationships that I had beforehand. That still isn’t enough for some, but I can't really call that my problem. Nevertheless, I'll tell you this story.

I pledged with three other guys. Ian was my best friend in college, with a flamboyant personality and usually a Hawaiian shirt to match. Mike was a Cadillac enthusiast with a slight Southern twang. And then there was Darren.

I remember the first time I met him at one of the pre-pledging mixers. He was a stocky guy, still sporting his high school letter jacket and a pocked complexion beneath large-framed glasses. It was easy for this band geek to spot a fellow band geek, and I quickly ascertained that that letter had been earned by playing a horn rather than a sport. In fact, mingling with some of the frat’s other musicians is how he’d ended up at this event to begin with. I forget what we talked about that night, but I do remember that he was in a jovial mood, which was something that defined who he was. The entire time that I knew him, there was a mock punch to the shoulder here, a quick joke there, and always said with a toothy smile and a coy deference afterwards.

That smile, man. There was nothing coy about that smile. It was out there. It sprang from somewhere deep inside him for you to see. Above all else, I saw from the get-go that Darren wanted to be your friend. There wouldn’t be anything fake about this friendship, either. He was friendly to give, not friendly to get. Know what I mean?

So anyway, we all pledged together. Say what you want about what you think you know about fraternity pledging activities, but it brought these four seemingly odd-fitting weirdos together…four autonomous individuals learning to work as one. That was the point, and we caught on. Ian and I had known each other pretty well already; had decided to watch each others’ backs way in advance. But we both slowly came to bond with these other two and by the end of two weeks’ worth of memorization, calisthenics, rituals, fatigue, and even some tears, we became Aps. We were certainly proud of our accomplishment, but we were more proud of how close we’d become.

For the rest of our college careers, Ian, Darren, and I in particular always celebrated this closeness. We set up movie nights or nights out and around. We supported Darren after his diagnosis of diabetes. I prayed with Darren one night for another brother critically ill in the hospital. We took our bonds seriously…the relationships we’d forged before and during pledging only becoming stronger as the years went on.

Near the tail end of my senior year, the frat organized a retreat to an area campground. For one reason or another, Ian couldn’t make it, and Darren originally wasn’t going to go until I talked him into it. I offered to drive us out to the meeting spot. There was something about that car ride that stuck with me, and for this reason: as we rode along, I noticed after a while that whenever we passed a cemetery, he’d make the traditional Catholic gesture of crossing himself.

I could tell that he wasn’t meaning to draw attention to this, but after the first few times he’d piqued my curiosity. So finally, I asked, “What’s that for?”

“Oh, a while back my uncle died. We were pretty close, so I like to remember him by saying a prayer whenever I pass a cemetery.”

That was it. He didn’t embellish that much and I didn’t push. Still, for the rest of the trip—both there and back—it never failed. See a cemetery, silent prayer. There’s something about ritual that helps us mark relationships: we designate times and genuflect in the appropriate moments and appropriate ways to remember what and whom we care about the most. I’d learned something new about Darren that day; about his family and his faith. One simple, even routine, motion had become for him an important act of memoriam.

Darren was a groomsman at my wedding. By this time, he’d taken great steps to control his diabetes and had demonstrated a robust commitment to keeping it in check with his diet and exercise routines. Of course, it didn’t stop him from the odd indulgence: I clearly remember him chowing down on McDonald’s the morning of the ceremony. For some reason, no one thought hard or long enough about it to chastise or rib him about it. It was a warm sunny weekend during which he’d helped mastermind the generous amount of silly string covering my car.

Fall came, and the leaves turned their glorious array of reds, yellows, and browns. During one late fall evening, Ian called, a somber tinge to his voice.

“Are you sitting down?”

“Um…yeah.”

At this point, I’m thinking it’ll be an account of his latest spat with his girlfriend. The two had been on quite a rollercoaster the past few months, so I’m waiting for the “he said, she said” to hit. Maybe I’d already begun forming some kind of helpful relationship advice.

“Okay. There were a series of tornados that passed through northwest Ohio today. They’ve been assessing damage and casualties and apparently there was only one death in Seneca County.

“It was Darren.”

I sat on the steps of the apartment building, trying to keep the phone from falling away limply from my ear. Ian and I spoke for a few more minutes, but I couldn’t tell you anything that we talked about. It was probably something about arrangements, but I don’t know. I once read something about how, when the brain feels threatened or wants to mask pain, it releases endorphins as a defense mechanism. Whether it was this or the near-blinding amount of confusion and disbelief that almost immediately began churning within me, the rest of that conversation is lost to the ages.

Coffeewife reacted much more suddenly, beginning to sob as the news touched her ears. Part of me was actually jealous of her, wishing that I’d reacted like that in order to feel something, but there was nothing for me but more endorphins, more churning, more disbelief. Only a few months ago had he stood up in a tuxedo in support, after wolfing down a couple cheeseburgers and before hosing down my car in silly-string. Him and his leaner, healthier frame thanks to his new diet. He who grinned out of someplace in the center of his being. There was no way that a guy like that was gone already.

One of my mentors would later comment, "People your age aren't supposed to die." Wasn't that the truth. Regardless, in the midst of my numbness and churning, we headed back to Ohio for the funeral.

The priest was obnoxious, loudly cracking jokes with family members during the entire calling hours through this weird nasally voice. Only a year prior had I learned about pastoral care, and this guy had obviously skipped the whole “ministry of presence” thing, let alone any personal sense of discretion. I greeted Darren’s parents, who had remembered me from something or other, and then approached warily. I’m actually surprised that Coffeewife still has use of her right hand, as I’m certain that I’d cut off the flow of blood. I’d gripped it more and more tightly through the line in anticipation, wondering how I’d react, wondering if I’d react.

Seeing him was the worst part. I don’t know what your opinion is about open caskets and how necessary they are to the grief process, but in this instance it didn’t do him any favors. They’d been extra generous with the base, turning him almost white in the process; a ghost of who he’d been, with a hint of rouge and lipstick in an ironic attempt to make him look like himself. I could spot places where they’d had no choice but to pack it on, and looking back I have to wonder whether it would have been worse to see him like that or not see him at all.

Either way, finally seeing him caused the numbness to evaporate and I completely let go. It was a little embarrassing, really. But after days of wondering why I hadn’t yet felt the way I knew I wanted to feel, my emotions kicked on and I wasn’t about to stop them. At 23 years old, he my groomsman and I his pallbearer. Nothing about this—his age, the oblivious priest, the horrible makeup—was fair. I knew that God knew it, but I didn’t know how to tell Him.

There was a mist in the air by the time we’d made it to the cemetery. What seemed like a half-acre of college friends huddled close in the mid-November cold, listening to more nasally words from the priest, now in his serious mock-pious mode. Too little, too late, buddy. He finally said his benediction and we were allowed to disperse, even though nobody really did. We craved the company in this place that we’d visited far too soon. Finally, as if on instinct, a group of his metaphysical brothers stood shoulder to shoulder, looking each other in the eyes as we said words that had become second-nature to us:

Let us drink, Aptonaltons, this toast
May it ever be our creed of fraternity.
That we live out our lives with the fullness and zest
That can come to us only by giving our best.
To our country, our school, and to all whom we meet,
Laughing with strength in the face of defeat.
Let us strive to be always leaders of men
Champions of right and of good to the end.
Let us love with a love neither false nor yet blind
With every respect for all womankind.
And last, as we drink let us ‘ere keep in mind
To be friend and brother to all mankind.
Returning the wrongs that were done us with good
Furthering always man’s brotherhood.
This be our toast, and by it let us live
That to God and to man our best we may give.

There was no moment when the meaning of those words had been rendered any clearer for that circle of young men, their arms wrapped around one another in grief. If the reader is still cynical and judgmental about what fraternities are about, I can only point to what is already written here, because I don't know what else might convince you.

The toast seemed to be what people were really waiting for, as it was only at that point that they began to make plans for the rest of the day. Some opted for an early meal and a drowning of sorrows in a local pub. Others had to get back quickly to jobs, families, schools, or whatever else. Again, I actually can’t remember what I did, but it involved a quick goodbye to Ian, so we were probably on the road pretty soon after.

Nowadays when I pass a cemetery, I think back to my trip with Darren to the retreat and his explanation of his prayer. I don’t make any movement of my own as I pass, but I do often think about him. I think about the gesture that he would have made, and the faith and character behind it all. Somehow, I think that’s enough.

When to Wear a Headset

2011-11-07T06:37:00.004-05:00

I tend to see similarities between pastoral ministry and being a college football coach. It may be because I'm obsessed with Michigan football, or it may be because there really is a lot to learn as a pastor from that other profession, or because I'm obsessed with Michigan football.

When Brady Hoke was hired as MIchigan's new football coach, there was no small amount of skepticism among certain parts of the fanbase. Some were simply glad that the team had someone new at the helm, others expressed doubts about the timeline of the hire, and others wondered about Hoke's less-than-stellar resume. As the year wore on, I think Hoke has won more and more people over, and now that his first season is going very well so far (except that one time, and that other time), a non-believer is perhaps becoming harder to find.

When Michigan lined up to play Western Michigan the first game of the season, I and others picked up on something fairly quickly about Coach Hoke. We already know that he likes to point. He also says "well" a lot (man, that video I wanted to upload would've been AWESOME). But that day, I and many others noticed something else. I myself found it so significant that I texted my brother about it:

Interesting that he's not wearing a headset.

When you're wearing a headset, you're connected to people in the booth. Whomever is sitting up there, whether a coordinator or other coaches or staff, you're in their ear when the headset is on. You're making decisions, consulting, giving orders. You're more in control when you have a headset. On the sidelines, fans are accustomed to seeing the head coach wearing one; every Michigan head coach in the modern era usually has had one clamped on their heads nearly the whole game every week, as do most head coaches besides.

Rich Rodriguez developed a reputation for micromanaging his program while at Michigan. He ran the offense and special teams, but also was in his defensive coordinators' ears just enough to make them run a system they didn't know. I have to point out, of course, that every coach has his own style and gifts. RichRod's gifts mainly stemmed from his being an offensive guru: he invented the spread, and naturally was going to be in charge of that side of the ball. It's what he knew and was good at, so that made sense. If there was anything learned about him while he was Michigan's coach, however, it's that he didn't know much about what it took to play defense in the Big Ten. While letting Scott Schafer and Greg Robinson just handle their business may or may not have produced better results (signs from his current run at Syracuse indicate that with Schafer, they might have), trying to do too much ended up hurting the team on Saturdays.

Brady Hoke has a very different style. He has two highly reputed coordinators, and he does indeed let them handle their business. Of course, he has an overarching vision of what he wants his team to do and where he wants the program to go, but he exhibits a certain humility as well. He's been caught with a headset on the sidelines, but he doesn't wear one the whole game. He consults, advises, moves among the coaches, but also lets the people more gifted and knowledgeable than him do what they need to do, and he doesn't feel the need to be in their ear all the time. He manages, but not overly so.

I like to think that I have a pretty good idea about what I am and am not good at in ministry. I like to think that I have a good handle on preaching and worship, on coordinating projects related to mission and other special events, and facilitating discussions related to visioning or that help people in ministry reflect on what they're doing. I also know that while I think I'm good at teaching, I quake in fear at restructuring or developing a vision for Christian education as a whole. I'm not energized by it; I have no clue what will work. In that area, I'm better off consulting someone else or just letting other people do their thing. Likewise, I find budget discussions awful and don't know how best to reinvest a CD that has come due or whatever. Furthermore, I can swing a hammer decently enough, but don't put me in charge of a building project.

Unless it's to hear what someone with the necessary gifts and knowledge is doing, I have no business wearing a headset for certain activities of a church's life. Perhaps I'm meant to offer a certain amount of vision and theological insight, but besides that I'm better off leaving things in the hands of those who know better.

Pop Culture Roundup

2011-11-04T06:24:00.006-04:00

This past week I read--by which I mean couldn't put down and gobbled up 50-100 pages at a time--Three and Out by John U. Bacon. As I've mentioned several times already, Bacon was given unfettered access to the University of Michigan football program the entire time that Rich Rodriguez was head coach. As a result, Bacon has a unique insider's perspective on the fumbled hiring process that brought RichRod to Ann Arbor, the fallout with West Virginia, the crummy games and seasons, the Detroit Free Press's hackjob and subsequent NCAA investigation, the infamous final Football Bust featuring Josh Groban, and the end shortly after. The main thrust, of course, is what Rodriguez goes through and how he reacts to every new dramatic turn, as well as how his staff and players handle it. There are strong indications that some within the ranks actively work against him or at least resist his approach, and certain figures don't look good at all: former Athletic Director Bill Martin comes off as incredibly incompetent from the search onward, Lloyd Carr at times seems sinister, at other times merely unsupportive, and the Free Press's Rosenberg and Snyder look every bit the D-list Woodward-and-Bernstein wannabe hack saboteurs that they are. Through most of the book, the players really are Rodriguez's team: they show incredible dedication to him even after every loss, at least until the second half of the Gator Bowl. At the same time, Rodriguez exhibits quite an extensive knowledge of and dedication to the Michigan ethos when working with the team that never really showed up in public. In delineating all of this, two of Bacon's main points seem to be that 1) Ever since Bo died, there hasn't been anyone to keep the entire program unified and focused, which made the fracturing of the department, alumni, and fanbase all the easier during these three years, and 2) Neither RichRod nor Michigan did enough, publicly or privately, to make this a happy marriage. This was one of the most engrossing books that I've read in quite a while. I can't remember the last time I tried to take advantage of every free moment to read another chapter.

We ordered WWE Vengeance, during which CM Punk and Triple H took on The Miz and R Truth. Due to shenanigans involving Kevin Nash, the bad guys won. Dolph Ziggler wrestled twice, first in a tag match and then one-on-one against cult favorite Zack Ryder, losing the tag but retaining his US Title. The big event, I suppose, happened during the Big Show/Mark Henry title match: Henry had Show on the turnbuckle for a superplex, and when they landed the ring collapsed. Here, watch:

After this, Alberto Del Rio and John Cena had to have their Last Man Standing match in the collapsed ring, which made for some fun spots. It wasn't the greatest PPV I've seen, but not on the bottom of the list for 2011.

Phineas and Ferb had a special Halloween episode the other week. During the first half, the kids go through a haunted house that a family puts on every year (the dad, interestingly, is voiced by Michael Douglas). During the second half, Candace and Stacy go to a movie called "Early Evening," featuring a werewolf (voiced by Michael J. Fox; the reference took me way too long to get) a girl (Anna Paquin) and a vampire (Stephen Moyer). After seeing the movie, Candace becomes convinced that she's a vampire based on a series of silly coincidences. The episode was clever as always, and Coffeeson still likes watching it even though Halloween has passed.

This week's random musical discovery is "Frontier Psychiatrist" by The Avalanches:

God's Healing Call

2011-11-01T06:29:00.003-04:00

Yesterday was the 40th anniversary of my dad's ordination. My "home" church celebrated with him this past Sunday morning, which included inviting me to preach. This is what I shared that day.

Luke 5:27:32

Jesus is collecting disciples.

He's already called a few. Earlier in this same chapter, he called a couple fishermen. Besides that, he's been traveling through the region and making a name for himself by healing, teaching, getting into arguments with religious authority. He's been proclaiming his message of the kingdom of God. And all of this together has intrigued people enough to want to follow him. Besides specifically calling some, many others have been struck by what he's been doing, and so they've been tagging along as well.

As they're traveling, they come to a booth where Levi the tax collector is sitting. He's collecting tolls on goods people are moving from one place to another, as well as taxing people who are traveling. Otherwise, he's being avoided: people probably didn't interact with tax collectors if they didn't have to: they were seen as Roman puppets, sellouts against their own people, scammers who skimmed off the top for themselves. They were outcasts. So even when Jesus and his group approach, most if not all of those traveling with him are probably wanting to ignore him.

Of course, you can't really take Jesus anywhere, as he'll inevitably end up embarrassing you somehow. That's confirmed again here as Jesus strolls right up to the booth and says to Levi, "Follow me." And that's it. There's no sales pitch, no explanation of benefits, no protest sign, no mini-booklet with four easy steps. Just, "follow me," and that's it. And that's all it takes: Levi drops everything and follows.

Later that day, Levi throws a banquet for Jesus. And we're told that many other tax collectors attend, which invites the question, "Who else would have attended?" Given how they were viewed by most, it may have been that they only really hung out with each other. Jesus shared table with many different people, and of course this irked the Pharisees. In this instance, they ask the disciples about why he does this. Why has he accepted this invitation; why does he do this so often? It's as if they're questioning his credibility: if this is who he associates with, why should we listen to what he says about God? Jesus overhears this and, rather than allowing the disciples to stumble through their own answer, he says, "Those who are sick are the ones who need a doctor. Those who are sick are the ones who need healing."

Think about that statement for a second. On the face of it, the meaning seems obvious. Jesus has been healing, he's been teaching inclusion, he's been forgiving. But what has Jesus done for Levi? He has no sickness that we know of, he doesn't seem to be possessed by a demon, he's not considered ritually unclean (although people probably thought he was unclean in other ways). As far as we know, the only thing that Jesus has done for Levi, Levi's only reason for giving this banquet for Jesus in celebration or thankfulness, is that he was called.

How has Jesus healed Levi? He called him to discipleship. He called him to a new way of living, a different set of priorities.

How often do we think of Jesus' call being a healing thing?

We're celebrating several things this morning. First, we're celebrating ordination. Specifically, we celebrate 40 years of ordination as of tomorrow. 40 years! That is so far off my radar! I have almost 7 and I think that's great! We can roughly break down these 40 years into two blocks. The first 20 years were spent in settled, full-time local church ministry as a pastor. The next 20 years have been spent in a multitude of ways: at the Wayne County Library, on the Church and Ministry Department of the Association, and working with interim ministers in Ohio.

Now, some--way too many, I would argue--may look at that 40 years and only see the first 20 as "ministry." They may look at those 20 years as a full-time settled pastor and say, "That's clearly ministry." But if we only counted those years, we'd be ignoring so much that we can consider ministry: deepening people's learning through books and other media, encouraging others just starting in ministry or long-established, working with churches in transition as they figure out who they are and who they want to be.

Today, the last Sunday of October, is also Reformation Sunday, a day to celebrate and remember the events surrounding the Reformation and the work of Reformers such as Martin Luther, John Calvin, and Ulrich Zwingli. Among other things that we remember today may be Luther's concept of the priesthood of all believers, the idea that it's not just the ordained people up front in the funny outfits who are called to ministry. Instead, according to Luther, we're all priests, we're all ministers according to our gifts and passions, whether ordained or not.

So...how is this call to ministry healing? Among other things, it gives us a new identity, it clarifies who we are, it gives us purpose and direction, it gives us a new way of living. It gives us a community to serve with and a vision of God's kingdom to pursue. But it's also healing because, no matter what the particulars, remembering that we are called affirms who we are.

I have to imagine that Levi ran into times after accepting Jesus' call where he was questioned: "You're a tax collector. How could YOU be called? Why would Jesus call YOU?" And in those moments, maybe what continued to heal him was remembering the day Jesus wandered up to his booth and said, "Follow me." Or maybe what continued to heal him was remembering the moment when Jesus defended not only his dining practices, but Jesus' defense of Levi himself, to the Pharisees.

Those of us who are ordained know these moments of doubt and disappointment. As both a pastor's kid and pastor, I've seen them. And those of us who aren't ordained know them as well: doubts about our ability, disappointment when something we're a part of doesn't go well, or generally wondering how it is that what we do can be considered ministry at all.

Healing comes through remembering. Healing comes through remembering when such clarity did come, or when we've been affirmed or appreciated by others, or the promises made at baptism or confirmation or, for some, ordination. Healing may come when we remember that we do have a call and when we remember the presence of the One who called us. Healing may come by remembering that God sees something wonderful in each of us and is ever calling it out.

Jesus is collecting disciples. Jesus says to each of us, "Follow me." Follow me into a new, transformed life. Follow me because you are my beloved child. Follow me because you do have something to offer. Remembering all that can be very healing indeed.

Happy Halloween

2011-10-31T06:36:00.001-04:00

Be safe out there.

Small Sips Really Has Heard of Rob Bell

2011-10-27T06:26:00.002-04:00

We apparently suck. Last month, Rob Bell announced that he's leaving his position as Teaching Pastor at Mars Hill Bible Church in Grand Rapids to pursue other ministry projects. Apparently, some on the more Evangelical side of things were/are hotly debating and discussing this move. Tony Jones observes that people in mainline churches haven't seemed to voice opinions on the subject, and he takes a stab at why:

Prominent liberal Christians aren’t objecting to Bell’s departure from parish ministry because they’ve never heard of Rob Bell.

On occasion, I speak to groups of mainline clergy (believe it or not, I don’t get evangelical invitations anymore). As is my wont, I drop Christian cultural references here and there when I speak. And it’s become clear to me that most mainline clergy have never heard of Rob Bell. They don’t know what the emerging church movement is. They don’t read Jesus Creed. In short, they are not familiar with anything evangelical, with the possible exception of pastors who appear on CNN, like Joel Osteen and Rick Warren.

Of course, some mainliners have heard of Rob, and maybe even read his book(s). But, as a whole, mainliners read the Christian Century, and they read their own denominational magazines, newsletters, and websites. They don’t read Christianity Today, where news of Bell’s departure was, ahem, big news.

Oh, we mainline types...so sheltered and inbred and out of touch.

In fact, I know many mainliners who have used Bell's NOOMA videos and have read his books. When the UCC's General Synod gathered in Grand Rapids two years ago, there was at least a little speculation as to whether Bell would be invited. It may be younger types in particular who have heard of him and appreciate him, but nevertheless...yeah, we have.

An observation made by several commenters on this article has to do with length of stay: people involved with mainline traditions are used to pastors moving on from churches every so often. In that sense, Bell's departure is not strange to most of us. On the other hand, Evangelicals are much more used to pastorates that last an entire career in the same place. If Warren, Hybels, Osteen, or whomever else left their prominent pulpits, their decision would probably be questioned and debated in much the same way as Bell's has been.

But no, it's not because we haven't heard of him. Many have, and simply have accepted it.

Good thing Bell left before he received his letter. Mars Hill Church in Seattle, pastored by Mark Driscoll and in no way to be confused with Mars Hill Bible Church in Grand Rapids, also made news recently for the very thing I didn't want you to get confused about just now:

The third Mars Hill I know seems caught in the middle. It is pastored in Sacramento, California by a friend of mine, Scott Hagan. Scott planted another church years ago in the Sacramento area, then moved to pastor a mega-church in Michigan and is now back leading at Mars Hill in Sactown. I have Pastor Scott’s permission to share what I am going to write next. Several weeks ago, Scott and his Sacramento congregation received a “Cease and Desist” letter which came from attorneys representing the Seattle Mars Hill Church. They were told that the Seattle Mars Hill had copyrighted the name “Mars Hill” and they demanded that the California Mars Hill churches stop using the name and any logos with similar lettering.

My reaction upon hearing this was...churches do that? Churches copyright their names like this, and really do send cease-and-desist letters to other churches that have the gall (THE GALL) to use that same name? How many First Baptists, First Congregationals, Trinitys, Emanuels, St. Peters (or any other saint), Zions, Graces, and whatever else are there in the United States? I'm guessing hundreds of each. But when it comes to Mars Hill, there can be only one (in my best Christopher Lambert voice).

But wait...Mars Hill Seattle quickly issued a clarification and was in contact with Mars Hill Sacramento to resolve this issue, which will lead to a logo change but not a name change.

It's a strange picture that gets painted when churches become involved in copyright and legal issues like this. On the one hand, individual churches (or, in these churches' cases, networks of churches) want to avoid confusion and be clear about who they are to people seeking them, but issuing a cease-and-desist letter quickly gets churches and individual Christians involved in a game that doesn't seem like Jesus was very interested in playing. After all, when disciples came to him exasperated that others not of their group were casting out demons in his name, he simply responded, "Let them. Whomever is not against us is for us."

I do get peeved when people get the United Church of Christ and the Churches of Christ mixed up. But I don't think there's reason to lawyer up in that instance.

Because I haven't written many posts with the word "Michigan" in them this fall. John U. Bacon's Three and Out was officially released on Tuesday, and I received my copy of it yesterday. Bacon was allowed unequaled access into the Michigan football program the entire time that Rich Rodriguez was head coach, and this is an account of what he saw. Over at MGoBlog, Bacon answered a series of questions in anticipation of the book's release, and one of the most notable answers to me came in response to a question about whether Rodriguez was a good fit:

When Schembechler’s crew arrived with their wives sporting beehive hairdos and stiletto heels, some Michigan insiders took to calling them “The Ohio Mafia.” The players quickly learned the new guy yelled, swore, grabbed your facemask and literally kicked you in the ass. If you were merely hurt, not injured, but didn’t want to practice, you got left behind when the team plane took off.

Instead of turning his back on the new regime, however, Elliott embraced them, hosting parties for their families and introducing them to important people around town. He did not allow players to come to his office in the Athletic Department to complain about the new guy, either. And when Schembechler delivered what today would be an unforgivable comment about changing “Michigan’s silly helmets,” Elliott, Don Canham, Fritz Crisler and Bob Ufer quietly taught him Michigan tradition.

And, to Schembechler’s credit, he was wise enough to listen, and even seek out their help.

When Michigan upset Ohio State that year, they gave Bump Elliott the game ball, and there was not a dry eye in the room.

That’s Michigan at its best. The last three years were not.

Rodriguez had never been to Ann Arbor before his first press conference, and it was clear he had not prepared, nor been coached – a noted contrast to Brady Hoke’s introduction, when his rehearsed lines won over many doubters.

To cross this chasm, neither Michigan nor Rodriguez did enough, soon enough. I believe Rodriguez should have learned more about Michigan faster than he did, but I also believe he received little guidance. Readers will likely be struck by how often Rodriguez invoked Michigan’s traditions – the helmet, the banner, the rivals – when he talked to his team. And he could have helped his cause by reaching out to sympathetic Michigan groups like the M-Club, filled with loyal supporters who could have helped him when trouble hit.

I expect to have the entire freaking 400-page book read before next Friday's Pop Culture Roundup. I've been anticipating this that much. In fact, I've already read the first 80 pages.

The Moped Diary

2011-10-24T06:46:00.000-04:00

Starting next month, I will begin contributing to a communal blogging project called The Moped Diary. I don't know where the name came from, so don't ask.

The idea behind this project is simple: people from a wide variety of backgrounds will engage texts from the Revised Common Lectionary through prayer and study, and will post reflections according to their assigned texts and weeks. I'm generally scheduled for the third and fourth weeks of the month.

I'll post blurbs and links of my writing here to alert you to my contributions, but you should keep track of the whole thing.

The project kicks off next week.

Pop Culture Roundup

2011-10-21T06:36:00.004-04:00

I'm between books at the moment, but I am eagerly anticipating the arrival of my pre-ordered copy of Three and Out by John U. Bacon. Bacon was given unfettered access to the Michigan Wolverines football program during Rich Rodriguez's entire stint as head coach, and this is his account of that experience. Apparently nobody comes out looking very well as he details the fractures that took place before and during Rodriguez's tenure that helped contribute to the absolute crappiness of the last three seasons. Part of me is not thrilled about reliving those years, but this is a must-read not just for Michigan fans but for anyone curious about the day-to-day happenings in any major college football program.

We watched Tangled this week, Disney's version of the story of Rapunzel. I didn't know much about the story beyond the "I have long hair, climb up" bit. Rapunzel, voiced by Mandy Moore, is indeed trapped in a tower, but she isn't really aware that she's trapped: her mother (who actually kidnapped her when she was little) forbids her from leaving, saying that the outside world is too dangerous and she wants her to be safe. See, Rapunzel's hair is magical so long as it isn't cut: it has Fountain of Youth-type powers that Evil Stepmom likes taking advantage of. This is all well and good until a thief hiding from the palace guard climbs up and helps her out. It's a good animated film, with lots of goofy humor and, of course, singing including a fun song in a tough guy bar.

A friend of mine sent me a copy of Arcade Fire's The Suburbs, which won "Album of the Year" at this year's Grammys. I haven't had a chance to listen to the whole thing yet, but I've really enjoyed what I've heard so far, perhaps especially "Ready to Go:"

And here are two guys doing awesome things with drums:

Scattered Meme is Scattered

2011-10-18T07:27:00.004-04:00

So. I made a video that I was planning to post today, but for some reason it won't load right on Youtube or something. It's one of the greatest things you would have ever seen, too. In that sense, I am very disappointed in the universe at the moment. So here's a space-filler...uh...meme:

1. I lose my keys all of the time. Even if they are in my hand, I still am looking for them. Sigh! What is something you chronically looking for, if anything? Actually...my keys. I've made great strides in this area the past few years, but still...I've locked myself out of my house, office, or car more often than I'd like to admit.

2. What movie are you looking forward to watching sometime in the future? (me, the new Footloose!) NOT the new Footloose. The Dark Knight Rises, coming next summer.

3. What is one of your favorite comfort foods? (me, pizza. hands down). A really good gourmet burger. And fries.

4. Story time. Tell us a story of one your favorite people that has touched, blessed your life. Yesterday Coffeeson and I went to the zoo so that Coffeewife could study for her Nurse Practitioner boards. He especially wanted to see "bats and cats," but was also overly fascinated by the Halloween decorations that they've set up as part of their "Boo at the Zoo" program. At one point we went to the black bear exhibit, the bear was sprawled out sleeping right up against the glass, and he was more interested in the nearby ghost decorations. He's quickly turning into quite the Halloween enthusiast.

5. What do you do to focus or calm or center yourself? (please, I need ideas!!!) If I'm feeling restless at the church, I wander the sanctuary for a little while. Since I started spiritual direction, setting aside that time has been helpful, too.

BONUS: Share the first thing (or second thing) that comes to your mind after your read this! That video would've been so awesome.

Gushing

2011-10-13T06:32:00.005-04:00

I've started meeting with my spiritual director. We've carved out an hour or so on Tuesday mornings at a local Panera to drink coffee, eat bagels, and talk about where the divine presence is in the midst of even mundane places like that. We've hit it off pretty well, I think. He's an older, gentle-speaking guy, active in his Catholic faith. That he's Catholic may give some pause, as if his tradition may be too stark to one's own if one is a Protestant. I'm actually glad for the difference: it helps me think beyond my own tradition, and I think will help me learn Ignatius more in his context. As a bonus, his son graduated from the University of Michigan, so we're doing just fine together.

At this point in the process, I'm in a time of preparation for the Exercises, not yet experiencing them. This consists of working through a series of scripture passages, one per day, and prayerfully wondering how each passage may speak into my own life. "Try putting yourself in the place of the different characters," came one suggestion. "Linger on words and phrases," came another. Having practiced Lectio Divina at times, I'm familiar with suggestions like these, but it's good to be reminded and to process insights with another.

During a recent meeting--not that we've had that many--we somehow got on the subject of keeping thoughts and feelings bottled up, which Coffeewife will tell you is an issue of mine. We've actually been talking about this quite a bit lately, and I've been encouraged to change: better to share more readily and openly than to blow up over some minor thing. I like to think that the past month or more have seen some very positive steps toward correcting this, for which both Coffeewife and I are both very glad.

As my spiritual director and I discussed some of this, he mentioned Ignatius' writing about the Dark Spirit. I don't know what your thoughts are on Satan or the devil or the Dark Spirit or whatever term you prefer; whether evil is somehow personified or whether it's more of a force or whether evil is simply of our own making or something else besides, but apparently Ignatius believed that one of the major tactics that the Dark Spirit uses is to get people to bottle themselves up, to keep things hidden and suppressed. Lately, I've been learning more about what this can do to people: it can damage or end relationships, it can affect physical health, and it can stifle emotional and spiritual growth. Even if you don't believe that the Dark Spirit is a being as such, I think most people can agree that such bottling can lead to suffering and pain, at least some of which we may call evil.

With this conversation fresh in my mind, I turned my attention to the suggested texts for the week, and came to part of the story of Jesus meeting the Samaritan woman at the well in John 4. Shortly into their conversation, Jesus begins to talk about living water:

Jesus said to her, "Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life."

I was stuck on the word "gushing" for quite a while. Gushing calls to mind something abundant, moving, and hard to contain. Something that gushes can be overpowering, and it splashes indiscriminately on anything within a close enough range. Something that gushes is not easy to bottle up, if bottling it up is even remotely possible. Try to bottle a waterfall or a geyser or a spring or a river. It's a fool's errand; it just can't be done. There'd be way too much to account for, and the water would likely rip your puny bottle from your hand.

"What is gushing in your life right now?" This was the question posed to me at our most recent meeting as I shared some of these thoughts. My answer was the affirmation and activity I've been experiencing at my church lately. We've moved into an incredible season where our ministry together has been flowing in the same direction in vital and wonderful ways. Of course, I wouldn't have thought to call such happenings "gushing" until this gathering, until scripture had provided the metaphor for reflection.

I think that when something is gushing around you, whether a relationship, a good period in your career, a joyous moment with family or whatever else, it only fuels one's own gushing. If something wonderful is happening around you, it may happen in you as well. If one of your children does something amazing, you'll gush. If you experience a triumph at work, you'll gush. If you experience clarity in your spiritual life, you'll gush. It's hard to keep stuff like that inside; you need some kind of release for it whether that means telling someone or writing it down or shouting it through a megaphone in a crowd. You gush. You can't keep it bottled.

So. What's gushing in your life right now?

Vintage POC: St. Louis - The First Year

2011-10-10T06:18:00.000-04:00

I meant to post this a month or so ago, but better late than never. It's been just over ten years since I first moved onto the campus of Eden Theological Seminary to begin my M.Div studies. I credit my time in St. Louis for an incredible amount of personal growth, but it did not come without a lot of pain and self-honesty. I wrote this entry in 2009--which is among my favorites--to illustrate that.
_______________

It's 1:00 a.m. A lone candle flickers on the floor of a living room of modest decor, adding the faint yet distinct scent of pine forest to the room.

Shadows of plastic shelving and milk crates dance on the bare walls. I sit next to the candle, its aroma mixed with the taste of rum and Coke, as I pluck another bass string.

It's my first week on campus. Or maybe the second. Or eighth. I don't know. I did this a lot.

Maybe "Crush" by Dave Matthews was playing. Maybe I sat in silence attempting to create something new with four strings and a modest amount of knowledge about the instrument I'm holding.

But I know one thing. I'm not used to this. I hope that I will be soon. But whether I will be or not, this is the way I talk to God these days. This is the way I cope.
_______________

"Life is messy," the professor repeats over and over again. She's in between stories of people in crisis: the couple dealing with a stillbirth or a couple struggling through divorce. She has us recount a passage from Open Secrets, and admonishes us about the difficult life situations we'll come across as pastors.

This is one of my first tastes of what is to come. I quickly begin to see that life is indeed messy...although I'll grow tired of that particular phrase over three years.

I learn about the importance of hearing others' stories.

Later, with a group of friends, I'll hear a lot of complaints about this professor's stream-of-consciousness lecture style. I'm never aware that it's a problem.
_________________

Ken Medema has just led a chapel service. He's blind, yet quite an accomplished piano player and songwriter. He can be over-the-top during his contributions, but his rendition of "Lord, Listen to Your Children Praying" during communion hits me square in my soul.

After four years of a healthy mix of praise bands and more traditional chapel services, this is my first worship moment at Eden that massages my spirit.

That evening, I gather with a bunch of people I just met a week earlier. They exchange barbs at how cheesy and awful the morning's service was. My soul wilts after being so uplifted.

Remembering how "Lord Listen to Your Children Praying" struck me that day, I share that I thought it was the most amazing service I'd experienced so far.

People acknowledge my comment in silence. This is probably my first instance of wondering what I'm in for by coming to Eden.

Coffeefiancee had told me to call whenever I got back in from this gathering. I call around 2:00 a.m. after drinking a six-pack of Labatt's. This is a story that she'll tell for years afterward.
__________________

I have the music channels on a lot during my afternoon reading sessions. MTV2 regularly loops Alicia Keys, Gorillaz, Kenna, Jennifer Lopez dueting with Ja Rule, Staind, Jurassic5, and a handful of others. These become the soundtrack of my first year.
__________________

After an A on my first theology paper, I've received two Bs and a C. I'd come to Eden thinking that I'd have a leg up on some people with my religion degree, and my intentional seeking out of other ministerial experiences in college.

It does prove to be helpful, but I quickly discover my overconfidence within the first few weeks. I shrivel from in-class discussions for fear of sounding stupid. I try to overcompensate in future theology papers; I think too much while writing them; I try too hard to please the professor. I keep getting Bs.

All of this together causes me to re-consider what I thought I was so sure of in college. There, I was the clear-cut pastor-type with the go-to theological and Biblical knowledge.

Maybe I was a big fish in a small pond, or maybe I just didn't know as much as I think I did. I want to believe the latter.

I don't know how to deal with the fact that I'm not sure what the professor wants. Much later, I figure out that he--and every professor, really--wants us to figure out and express our own theology instead of repeating cold facts back to him as I learned to do in my undergrad Religion program. When I finally figure out how to do this, I wish I could take his class over again.
_______________

I visit a good college friend in DeKalb, Illinois. As we watch a movie, he points out my expanding waistline.

I've taken to eating McDonald's some 3-5 times a week, and have been catching up on all the drinking I "wasn't allowed" to do under the watchful eye of my evangelical friends at Heidelberg.

Along with my late-night candlelight sessions, these are my ways of coping with a large city, the fact that I don't yet really know much of anything about ministry or theology, and the difference in social cultures.

As best as I can tell, I've gone from a more raucous band of irreverent and crude fraternity brothers and delightfully dorky housemates and friends to a group of more cool, culturally-seasoned, cynical hipsters.

They've been through more than me, or so I think. I marvel at the pieces of their stories that I'm privileged to hear, and wonder how I'm able to keep up.

I don't tell my own story--pastor's family run over by a handful of churchpeople, mainly--until my third year. I actually don't venture much of anything, because I'm

1. Reeling at my surroundings,

2. Waiting for someone to ask (I eventually learn that maybe I should venture information myself every once in a while),

3. Grumpy at how little I really know.

But mainly #2.

I eat fast food and I drink, and I sit up in the middle of the night dealing with all of this.

I eventually learn that over the course of 2 1/2 years at Eden, I've gained 35 pounds.
____________________

I arrive on Heidelberg's campus. It's mid-fall, and I feel a sense of relief pulling onto Greenfield Street. I feel it again in late January. I feel it again in the spring.

I'm here to visit Coffeefiancee. I catch up with friends still on campus. I attend a fraternity party at their new house at one point.

The Gorillaz' "Clint Eastwood" is played, and it strikes me as some sort of sign-of-the-times moment - a reminder that I'm just visiting and that I'll soon need to head back to St. Louis.

Near the end of every visit, I utter the words, "I don't want to go back."
___________________

I learn a lot about the city of St. Louis: hotspots such as University City, Ted Drewe's, Tangerine, Kaldi's, Coffee Kartel, Growler's, Blueberry Hill.

I'm treated to a concert by local artist Robynn Ragland by a new friend from Chicago. She later takes me to a Mike Doughty solo show at Blueberry Hill for my birthday.

A big group of us heads to Ted Drewe's the afternoon of 9/11 because we don't know what else to do.

The martinis at Tangerine kick me in the face. In a good way.

I do recognize that I'm slowly settling in and becoming accustomed to the city. It's growing on me, even if I still associate it with my own inadequacy for a while.
_________________

The end of my first year finally comes.

I've begun to learn about how much bigger the world is.

I've begun to learn about the incredible limits of my own knowledge.

The seeds have been planted for me to think for myself; to assert my own opinions and my own story. My new group of friends express their desire to see me do just that.

I end my first year, my entire world turned upside-down and wondering where I'm headed. It all seems so up in the air, even if a few things are beginning to take root.

By my first summer, I'm not in such a hurry to leave St. Louis. I become comfortable in my shoebox apartment. I ever-so-slowly become comfortable with the rhythm and culture of my surroundings.

I've gone through a lot of growing pains. I'm in for much more.
________________________

A year and a half later, CPE helps me put all of this into proper perspective.

I finally tell my story. I finally learn how to assert, react, express, discern. Or at least, I'm more conscious of how to do these things.

I come of age as a human being at age 24. It had to happen sooner or later.

After all of this, I finally begin to work on losing some weight.

Pop Culture Roundup

2011-10-07T07:27:00.002-04:00

I'm the type of pastor who starts anticipating the season of Advent in September. I always look for a new resource for that season; a way to express the familiar themes in new ways. I don't do this with any other season...there's just something about Advent that inspires me to do extra planning. Anyway, the resource I picked up this year is The Journey by Adam Hamilton. Hamilton attempts to retrace the steps of the various characters by traveling to Israel and visiting the holy sites commemorating each stop. The book is pretty good: his insights into the geography are interesting. I didn't find a whole lot new regarding the stories themselves, though.

I haven't seen any new Boardwalk Empire episodes yet. I have no real excuse. I am ashamed.

Being a fan of WWE, I see a lot of video game commercials during their TV shows. I saw one the other week that had me thinking, "What was that song playing the background?" A quick Google search showed that it was "My World" by Transmissions:

Here's an instrumental I randomly found by David Tolk called "In Reverence;"

Justicetober

2011-10-04T06:05:00.000-04:00

This time of year, I always like to remind my readers of two important justice causes that many make it a point to highlight in October. First, October is Fair Trade Month:

This October is the 8th annual Fair Trade Month in the United States. Throughout the month, conscious consumers and ethically-minded brands will unite to celebrate and promote Fair Trade. A variety of education events, in-store sampling programs and online initiatives have been planned to help increase awareness and sales of Fair Trade Certified products, ultimately leading to greater impact for farmers and workers in developing countries. The theme for Fair Trade Month 2011 is Every Purchase Matters.

What follows in that article are 10 ways to observe the month, including purchasing fair trade chocolate for Halloween.

Second, this week is Mental Illness Awareness Week:

In 1990, the U.S. Congress established the first week of October as Mental Illness Awareness Week (MIAW) in recognition of NAMI's efforts to raise mental illness awareness. Since 1990, mental health advocates across the country have joined together during the first full week of October in sponosoring many kinds of activities.

MIAW has become a NAMI tradition. It presents an opportunity to all NAMI state organizations and affiliates across the country to work together in communities to achieve the NAMI mission through outreach, education and advocacy.

The MIAW Idea Book suggests activities that can be incorporated into planning for the fall. Stickers, posters and a web banner to use on websites or in documents are available for download in English and Spanish.

A new thing this year (at least, I think it's new) is the National Day of Prayer for Mental Illness Recovery and Understanding on October 4th, which especially encourages people of faith to remember and take action on behalf of those dealing with some form of mental illness. Had I known that, I'd have talked it up at my church before today.

If you're interested, take some time to read, learn more, and find out how you can support one or both of these important causes.

National Coffee Day

2011-09-29T06:17:00.001-04:00

Happy National Coffee Day from your friends at Philosophy Over Coffee.

Small Sips Thinks You're Boring

2011-09-26T06:38:00.001-04:00

You know who you are. Yeah. YOU. A few weeks ago, UCC pastor/author Rev. Lillian Daniel wrote a reflection for the Huffington Post regarding the increasingly common, ever-innocuous phrase "spiritual but not religious." Hint: she's not a fan.

Being privately spiritual but not religious just doesn't interest me. There is nothing challenging about having deep thoughts all by oneself. What is interesting is doing this work in community, where other people might call you on stuff, or heaven forbid, disagree with you. Where life with God gets rich and provocative is when you dig deeply into a tradition that you did not invent all for yourself.

Thank you for sharing, spiritual-but-not-religious sunset person. You are now comfortably in the norm for self-centered American culture, right smack in the bland majority of people who find ancient religions dull but find themselves uniquely fascinating. Can I switch seats now and sit next to someone who has been shaped by a mighty cloud of witnesses instead? Can I spend my time talking to someone brave enough to encounter God in a real human community? Because when this flight gets choppy, that's who I want by my side, holding my hand, saying a prayer and simply putting up with me, just like we try to do in church.

A lot of my pastor friends on Facebook shared and debated the merits not only of Daniel's content, but also her tone. How would a self-identified "spiritual but not religious" person react to this article? It probably wouldn't be favorably, and I'd guess that many would immediately step in to clarify how they use the term (for my own part, that'd be incredibly helpful, as I'm skeptical as to just how many who use it know what they're talking about). Many comments I saw made a very good point about whether this article would foster any real dialogue or seem inviting to Daniel's intended audience. I'm guessing not so much.

However, Daniel does make several good points that the tone probably doesn't allow people to hear. First off, I agree that it's not healthy to be a spiritual island where there is no dialogue, accountability, opportunity for clarifying or refining one's beliefs. Second, if all the further you get when using this phrase is the sunset, then how deep have you really traveled?

I must admit a certain catharsis when reading Daniel's article. Some commenters suggest that her tone is due to the decline of organized religion and Daniel's personal stake being threatened. I, on the other hand, would love to meet "spiritual but not religious" people who are actively engaged in the pursuit of truth and living well, whether part of a church or not. In that sense, this was a call, albeit a very blunt one, to try harder.

Oh...oh YEAH? Well, I'M talking to YOU. Kate Blanchard, a religion professor at Alma College in Michigan, responded to Daniel's piece:

But if I step back and think more carefully, I see that it’s probably not fair to stereotype these folks as “bland” or “self-centered” or cowardly sunset people who are too weak for big-league religion—any more than it’s wise to characterize all self-identified religious people as “brave enough to encounter God in a real human community.” (It may surprise some readers that Rev. Daniel’s denomination is the United Church of Christ, which I have heard dismissively called “Unitarians Considering Christ” by Christians of more orthodox leanings who see the UCC as, well, spiritual but not religious.)

Some religious people do indeed exhibit almost supernatural patience and compassion for their fellows, and it often does require great courage to stay in a congregation even when there is conflict and pain and, most of all, disappointment to be found there. But I also believe that for many formerly religious people, the act of leaving their religious traditions, of opting out of the human communities into which they were born or which no longer felt like home, could itself have been a tremendous act of courage.

In my experience as a college professor, “spiritual but not religious” is my bread and butter; it is the very thing that drives many people into my classes. For better or worse, it is often the conventionally religious students who seem satisfied (sometimes smugly so) with shallow understandings of their own traditions—to say nothing of anyone else’s religion. Meanwhile, some of the spiritual students (though certainly not all) are those who work the hardest to figure out what they can believe in or sign on for, while still maintaining a sense of personal integrity.

Blanchard makes a number of good points, especially as she's had personal experience with the "spiritual but not religious" folks who do try harder, who are open and curious and actively searching.

Part of my journey toward spiritual direction has been a passion to help such curious people open themselves to a variety of traditions outside perhaps the one they actually know. Blanchard's students are the types that I'd love to meet. Near the end of her article, she suggests that the fact that one chooses to respond with that phrase rather than simply pop in the earbuds after finding out s/he is sitting next to a religious professional on a plane is due to such curiosity: they WANT to have a conversation about that phrase. They WANT to explore and question, and now that they have a knowledgeable captive audience maybe this is their opportunity. There may be some like the person Daniel describes as well, of course.

In other cases when you share that you're a religious professional, you may end up next to an atheist who squirms in his seat or a SuperChristian who wants to talk about the finer points of your doctrine. When faced with these situations, according to my seminary's president, you should order a double Scotch: the atheist will relax and the SuperChristian will shut up. I have yet to be able to test this wisdom.

Pop Culture Roundup

2011-09-23T09:12:00.001-04:00

We ordered WWE Night of Champions this past Sunday, because we wanted to be fully prepared for the next night. The concept of NOC is that every title is defended. That's it. So US Champion Dolph Ziggler retained in a Fatal Four-Way match, Divas Champion Kelly Kelly retained against Beth Phoenix, which was incredibly lame given the way they've been building up Phoenix and Natalie Neidhart as unstoppable angry actual wrestlers crusading against the Barbie doll ethos of the division. The tag champions Evan Bourne and Kofi Kingston retained, but the tag division is nothing right now so who cares? Intercontinental champ Cody Rhodes retained against Ted Dibiase Jr. At this point in the PPV, I'm thinking, "Boy, no title changes...exciting stuff." Then Mark Henry came out and destroyed Randy Orton to win the World Championship. It was the most dominant I've seen anyone allowed to be against Orton in a long time, and besides that I'm happy for Henry: he's been in the WWE for 15 years and this was his first real World title win. Then Cena beat Alberto Del Rio to win his 4,529th WWE title in undramatic, totally anticipated fashion. The last match was CM Punk facing HHH (who honestly looked a little rusty and chubby), the stipulation being that if HHH lost he'd have to give up his position as COO of the company. Long story short, there was a ton of interference from guys who beat both of them up, and HHH pulled out the win. It was not the greatest PPV by any stretch: several titles should have changed hands that didn't and one title changed hands that shouldn't have, and the main event was meh.

So then Coffeewife and I attended Monday Night RAW the following night in Cleveland, she in her Cena shirt and I in my Punk shirt, the typical wrestling fan couple nowadays. We first saw a couple matches that were taped for WWE Superstars, and then of course RAW kicked off at 9:00. A lot of the show was fallout from the PPV, with HHH and Punk deciding that somebody else was trying to play them against each other. Del Rio eventually came out for a match where he totally manhandled John Morrison, playing up the anger at losing the title. Mark Henry came out for an interview with Jim Ross and basically said "In your face, haters" before putting Jerry Lawler through a table (the second time I've seen Lawler in person this year!). Apparently Lawler really was hurt by the move, as it didn't break away properly. Oh, and Hugh Jackman was there! Yeah, he was plugging his fighting robot movie that I'm not going to go see. But he had a natural presence alongside the wrestlers and looked like he was having fun, particularly as he helped Zack Ryder get a win over Dolph Ziggler, as you see above. The main event was a tag match between Punk/Cena and R Truth and The Miz. The Miz is from Cleveland, so he initially got some big cheers until he started insulting the city...he's a bad guy, he does that. Cena also got the biggest ovation of the night despite the dueling "Let's go Cena/Cena sucks" chants that happened all throughout the evening. After the match, HHH came out and fired Truth and Miz for their interference at the PPV, which also got some big cheers. We then watched them get thrown out of the arena. At this point, the show had gone off the air, but Del Rio came back out for a triple threat WWE title match as advertised. It really wasn't much to speak of, although there was a fun spot near the beginning where Punk and Cena took turns doing some old school moves on Del Rio such as the Bionic Elbow, the Earthquake Splash, and Rikishi's Stinkface. Then Punk and Cena had a little back and forth before eventually Cena pinned Del Rio. It wasn't a classic by any means, but it was fun. All in all, it was a great night. It was fun just to watch Coffeewife experience her first live WWE event.

The second season of Boardwalk Empire starts this Sunday, as Nucky will have to deal with three of his supposed biggest allies conspiring against him. The trailer really plays up that he won't be able to trust too many people this year:

Some big musical news broke this week, as REM decided to call it quits. I did enjoy most of their music ("Shiny Happy People?" Really?), and remember feeling bad for Bill Berry for having to quit due to medical issues. But my most notable REM memory is teaching myself to play the drumset by listening to "What's the Frequency, Kenneth?" over and over:

I heard this song by Gary Clark Jr. on the radio this week, entitled "Bright Lights:"

Life Lessons from Ari Gold

2011-09-20T06:14:00.003-04:00

Entourage ended its 8-season run earlier this month. For those who are unfamiliar with the show and/or are brand new to the blog and thus haven't seen me comment on it for the past 6 1/2 years, this show follows the adventures of Vincent Chase, a young movie actor transplanted from Queens with his older brother and two best friends. The four experience the ups and downs of Hollywood (mostly the ups, with plenty of women, booze, and toys to go around), with a lot of winking at the audience thrown in as its many guest stars play over-the-top version of themselves. It's a show that never took itself too seriously even in its more serious moments, and the four guys always seemed to make it through every setback with their little fraternity completely intact.

That fraternity actually had a fifth honorary member, although as the series went on his storylines seemed to diverge a little more, as if the show's creators realized that he stood out from other characters on the show. Of course, I'm talking about Ari Gold, Vince's agent played by Jeremy Piven. As an aside, I actually began watching this show because of Piven, as I've been a fan of his since the first time I saw PCU.

Ari could be quite a contradiction. Earlier in the show's run, this wasn't the case as much: he was ruthless and rude, frequently butting heads with Vince's friend and manager Eric and going on expletive-laced tirades on whomever happened to be around when the mood struck him. We were also given indications early that he'd feel little remorse about cheating on his wife with his beautiful young then-assistant. The first season in particular saw an Ari who cared little for anyone besides himself, and he was little more than a caricature of how Hollywood agents really are.

Fortunately for both the show and the audience, Ari evolved over subsequent seasons. His win-at-all-costs attitude was shown to be more of a hopeless devotion to the betterment of Vince's career. One example is Ari sending an aging producer whom he finds annoying on a wild goose chase around the city: it seems cruel, but one of the underlying reasons for it is to keep him from messing up Vince's chances of landing a new movie deal. When those same shenanigans come back to bite him, Ari tries to go the extra mile to make things right even if it turns out to be for nought. "You should have seen me today," Ari says to Vince of his running around town. It's true: Ari had gone above and beyond for him, but it was too late. In another instance when Ari is offered a position as head of a movie studio, one of his first comments to his wife is, "If I take this, I could get Vince any part he wants." Never mind all the other careers for which he's responsible: it's only Vince whom he mentions by name. The further the show goes on, the more we see how much Ari wants the best for his young star, and how far he'll go to get it. This is part of the reason he doesn't stay fired for very long: he takes that event so personally that he makes fixing the relationship a priority.

We also see that Ari is more of a family man than originally portrayed. Contrary to overtures he makes in the first season, Ari tells someone later on that he's never cheated on his wife "since she became my wife." While that may not sound like much, it at least shows that Ari does consider the marriage covenant more important than we're first told. A minor plot arc in a later season shows Ari trying to make sure that both his kids are able to attend a prestigious private school which eventually sees him tearfully begging the headmaster on his doorstep to let his kid back in.

While Ari maintains his abrasiveness throughout the series, there is a constant undercurrent that he is driven at least in part by his desire to pursue the best for his family and his client. I say in part, because he is also plainly a workaholic: he is good at his job and he knows it. He thrives in his office environment and owns any meeting into which he steps. He's hardly ever not holding a cellphone, and he's constantly barking orders at others, clearly comfortable in his position of authority. We see him running out at all hours way more often to do something for Vince than to do something for his family. It's a common theme for workaholics: their jobs make more sense, are more controllable to them than their home lives. Ari exhibits this in spades the entire series.

Ari's choice of priorities eventually lands him in a tough spot during the last season as he reaps what he's been sowing for the previous seven seasons. His wife finally decides that she's had enough and wants a divorce. While they've been attending couple's therapy for years (for which he's frequently late and during which he often answers his phone, neither action registering to him as a poor choice), she finally decides that no good is coming from it. As a result, Ari is confronted by his own blindness toward his family and seems to go through stages of grief: he shows denial and surprise at first, which gives way to anger when he sees his wife with someone else (Bobby Flay, for some reason), and then to outright despair as he begins to get drunk frequently and neglects his own hygiene. Two events finally lead him to begin making things right, the first being a confession that he still loves his wife to a woman to whom he turns for comfort. The second is when he plays a CD of his daughter's musical performance and marvels at how talented she is, as if discovering this fact for the first time. This leads him to quit his agency and suggest to his wife that they spend a year in Italy as they've always dreamed of doing.

Ari's story in the final season of the show is an exaggerated (though how exaggerated it actually is is disputable) portrayal of what happens when career is prioritized over family. That's not to say that career should not be important: if you can do something well, why not strive to be the best that you can be? However, there comes a point if career is given so much more credence that one's spouse and/or children can be easily neglected.

Pastors in particular can fall into this trap very easily. We could be called to someone's bedside in the middle of the night, we are often asked to give up so many weeknights and weekends, and churches generally place a lot of emphasis and importance on our position that we may easily get caught up in that sense of being needed; of being held in such esteem. We can get caught up in the mentality that the church rises and falls based on our performance, and this can lead us into dangerous territory with family and friends as we gradually allow ourselves to give more and more time and energy to our job (and make no mistake that seeing it as a "calling" can make for a handy excuse). All it takes is a few small compromises at first, and if we're not careful we'll just keep making them until we're fully assimilated. Our problem--or the problem of anyone in such a specialized position where you're depended upon for specific skills--becomes the same as Ari's: this job makes sense, we can do it well, people depend on us, we can control it. Can't you see how much I'm needed? I can't not go! I can't not miss my son's school program! I can't not cancel our date night to be with dying Aunt Mildred! I have to devote another Saturday to a youth thing instead of going to the zoo like we talked about! I have to! They're depending on me!

It was Ari's devotion to Vince that helped set him down the path of giving himself so completely to his work. Ironically, it was also his devotion to his family as he sought the best life possible for them. More than once during the series, his answer to his wife's confronting him about his work habits was some variation of, "I'm doing this so that you and the kids can live well." At times his wife's response was, "You can do that by actually being around." Again, one of the main reasons behind workaholism is ego: doing a job well, but also doing it for the sense that you're bettering your own situation. When Ari listens to his daughter's CD, the fact that he needs to be more personally invested in his family's life is driven home. He may be the breadwinner, but sitting down with his family and actually breaking bread with them would be far more meaningful.

In the very last scene of the show, we catch up with Ari and his wife relaxing on the porch of their Italian getaway. They share a long, passionate kiss before she walks inside to get a bottle of wine. While she is there, Ari takes a phone call from a Hollywood mogul offering him the CEO position at his company. The details of the position are outlined: responsibility for billions of dollars' worth of assets and a lifestyle more extravagant than Ari has ever known. He quickly hangs up when his wife returns and pretends that it's a wrong number, but he's still left with the choice of continuing down this path of reform and reprioritizing, or breaking the news that they'll be returning to the States so that he can take a position that he knows he can do and that would set him and his family for the rest of their lives. The choice hangs there as the final credits roll, as it does for anyone who loves both family and work. What will Ari do? Indeed, what would any of us do?

The Daily Show Remembers 9/13

2011-09-16T12:24:00.000-04:00

The Daily Show
Get More: Daily Show Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,The Daily Show on Facebook

The What and Why of Spiritual Direction

2011-09-14T06:21:00.007-04:00

A while back, I mentioned that I'll be entering a program through the Ignatian Spirituality Institute at John Carroll University to be certified as a spiritual director. After going through the application process which included an interview with the program director and two alumni (one of whom is now on my blogroll), it was suggested to me that I wait a year to begin the formal classwork in order to experience the Spiritual Exercises first, which I would have had to do anyway. This made sense to me, so I agreed to their suggestion.

This week I was given the name and contact information for a spiritual director with whom I may go through this process. As I anticipate beginning this step, I thought that I might take another crack at explaining why I'm doing this at all and what in my understanding a spiritual director is and does. I've found it surprisingly difficult to try explaining spiritual direction to others, so maybe if I take another stab at writing an explanation it'll become more clear.

Have you ever taken piano lessons, or some other lesson of that sort? There's a certain format that such lessons follow. You meet weekly with an instructor where you go over the latest lesson that you'd practiced, the instructor provides insight by telling you to work on some things, giving encouragement, and working in some new things, right? Then, you're giving instructions for what to practice between now and the next lesson, building on what you've already learned.

Spiritual direction works the same way, in my understanding, though the emphasis obviously is on your spiritual life. You meet, the spiritual director guides you in identifying where the divine may have showed up over the past week (or however often) in your life, you're instructed to try some new things related to spiritual disciplines and practices between now and the next meeting. Instead of being coached in developing knowledge and technique related to a musical instrument (or pick anything else: physical fitness, creative writing, cooking, etc.), the focus is on your personal spirituality.

On top of that, the spiritual director is usually trained in a particular tradition. Let's go back to the music lessons for a second. I took bass guitar lessons for over a year (I had to stop for a while, though I'd like to get back into it). My instructor's clear preference was for jazz and blues: it's what he was chiefly trained in and listened to. He was, of course, able to teach other styles as well, but these styles were his main points of reference when we met. This works the same way with spiritual direction. Those who study at the Ignatian Spirituality Institute are primarily trained in Ignatius of Loyola's Spiritual Exercises, so those serve as the main point of reference, although there is nothing keeping them from learning and teaching other disciplines over time as well.

Why do this at all? I am discovering more and more that I personally need regular guidance when it comes to certain aspects of my life, and I'm in a season where I've been the most honest with myself about that that I ever have (delving into that is its own blog post). I always had good intentions about keeping up with music, but regular instruction helped keep me accountable. I haven't picked up my bass very often since I had to quit lessons. Many people have good intentions about keeping a regular devotional life of some sort and try various techniques and times of day to do it, and I'm guessing that more often than not they start out strong and then piddle out after a few weeks at the most (again, this can be applied to a lot of things: going on a diet, learning some other hobby, etc.). This is probably a big reason why worship on Sunday is seen as an essential activity by many: it may be the only regular spiritual discipline that they're able to keep (again, probably it's own blog post). Having a spiritual director to provide that regular time of checking in can do a lot for people who are willing to go beyond that and delve into something else.

In addition, I've been exploring a call for several years now to coach and encourage other pastors. I already do this work in my Association, and I've found great passion in it, particularly given my background and my sabbatical work. It may sound silly or misguided coming from a younger pastor, but I think that I have a lot to offer and it energizes me. I think that training in spiritual direction would be a great asset to pursuing this calling. This also is probably its own blog post.

I mentioned this in the other post, but there's one other reason why spiritual direction interests me. I have been very fortunate to have experienced a wide variety of spiritual activities over the years, most Christian but also a few that are not. As such, I've been able to gain great appreciation for the multitude of ways available to us through which we may tap in to the divine presence around us. I want to share that appreciation with others, most of whom are only aware of one single piece of a single strand of a single tradition that in many cases either produces spiritual tunnel vision or has caused many to give up because they aren't aware that there's anything else out there or don't know where to look to try something different.

I want to help people realize that there are so many more possibilities out there for prayer, study, and worship than the one church they've always known or left a long time ago. Maybe this is easier to do in our present age of pluralism and diversity, but I think there are still many who nevertheless wouldn't know where to begin. I want to help provide a window into other ways to experience God in our midst when the One Way you've always known doesn't seem to be working, or when it needs some sort of complement to breathe new life into your experience of it.

These are my main reasons for wanting to become a spiritual director. Like I said, I wanted another crack at articulating what it is and why I'm doing it.

Moved to Silence - A Prayer for 9/11

2011-09-11T06:01:00.001-04:00

There is something about certain places and moments that stops our noise.
We enter space or time that has been set aside, and with it we enter the quietness that it seems to invite or demand.
At times we do not want to disrupt the memory as it passes through consciousness as if happening again.
At times there simply are no words; the sacredness speaks for itself.
At times, giving voice to our thoughts will only further confound what can’t be understood.

Today, there are many noises and voices clamoring to be heard in places and moments deemed sacred.
They strive and strain to describe how we feel, what we remember, who to blame.
They do so flanked by markers and memorabilia.
They do so while showing familiar images vivid, terrifying, and heartbreaking.

If left to ourselves, we may not need the voices or the images.
We are reminded by shrines built in our hearts just as well.
Perhaps on a different day with our noises off, we may be able to remember better.

In these silent moments, we remember tragedy past and tragedy ongoing.
We remember noises of a decade ago and in the decade that has followed.
We remember our own noises of that day and how we’ve stumbled toward healing ever since.
We remember others whose noises cry out for their own relief that has yet to arrive.

We remember other things.
We remember you, who releases people captive to noises of destruction and loss.
You, who soothes throats gone hoarse from crying out to be healed.
You, who silences explanations that damage and demean.
You, whose Easter promise speaks for itself.

Stop our noise. Move us to silence.
Make our memories adequate and our spirits hopeful.

Pop Culture Roundup

2011-09-09T06:21:00.006-04:00

I recently read Walter Brueggemann's Journey to the Common Good for my book study group. Brueggemann explores Old Testament concepts of neighborliness and community, first by examining God's order vs. Pharaoh's order in the Exodus, followed by the covenant at Sinai to live together as God's people, and finally exploring the prophets' calling the nations back to such concepts after straying from them. Brueggemann alludes to modern views of such things, offering some further contrasts between God's intentions for community and those of today's cultures. It was a pretty good read, though I admit that I skimmed some parts.

I often wonder why I'm still watching True Blood. I couldn't give you a real answer if you asked. We started watching at the beginning, and quickly deemed the acting bad and the stories campy. The acting has improved and I've come to find a certain charm in the camp, but holy crap is Sookie (the main character and heroine around which the show and the books--the Sookie Stackhouse series--are based and for whom we're supposed to be rooting) annoying. Maybe it's the writing, maybe it's Anna Paquin, maybe it's both. But this past Sunday's episode during which the vampires come to a seemingly final showdown with the witches they've been battling all season summed it up so well for me: when the vamps realize that she's being held hostage after trying to take matters into her own hands, several of them in exasperation say exactly what I've been thinking for nearly four seasons: "F*cking Sookie." The saving grace of the show for me is nearly every other character, including Bill and Tara whose characters have undergone positive turns from my perspective. They're about to close out for the year this Sunday, and like an Alzheimer's patient I'll be tuning in again next summer for some reason.

Entourage comes to an end--as in The End--this Sunday. The guys have come a long way, yet haven't: there was never any serious long-term storyline where any friendships among them were strained, Ari was fired for maybe half a season, and things never looked too bleak for Vince's career despite a major film bombing and his dealing with a cocaine addiction. The show always kept things from getting too serious for too long; people looking for some authentic look into Hollywood lifestyles were bound to be disappointed, save perhaps for the ups and downs of Drama's career. Otherwise, the show always shot for light and fun even in darker moments. To its credit, I think that it was fairly up front about that very early on, so many of those who thought it should be something else probably lost interest a long time ago. I obviously stuck with it even as I was heavily critical of it, because it was fun for what it was.

Brant Hansen has a new job, and a new blog. It features the same humor mixed with critique of Christian culture that he's always exhibited, so I just keep on reading.

The other week I heard Obadiah Parker for the first time. He does an acoustic version of Outkast's "Hey Ya," which is what I heard first. I've since downloaded the entire self-titled album on which that is found, which is incredibly good: a mix of jamband, funk, blues, and folk. Here it is if you've never heard it:

And if that isn't your thing, I've also been listening a lot to This Fire by Killswitch Engage. It's CM Punk's old theme, but it's also a good way to get motivated before a busy/tough day:

And finally, here's the Twilight series summed up in 4 seconds:

What I Would Say at a Seminary Commencement

2011-09-06T06:23:00.003-04:00

I fondly remember sitting where you are right now. After years of study and planning and dreaming, I sat in a church pew having just received my degree, the apex of my educational life, and I clearly remember opening the cover and just staring at it. This anticipated moment finally made real, I actually had to convince myself that it was so. I had spent so many years first in undergrad and then in this Masters program wrestling with eternal truths, using the best Biblical and theological scholarship available to me. Aside from that, I had spent three years immersed in a culture of liturgical experimentation and of justice preached to us by prophets ancient and modern. They were years of envisioning what the church could be as we explored the full gamut of worship experience and visualized what God's kingdom made proper and full would look like.

I imagine that this is what your seminary journey has been as well. You have spent this time steeping yourselves in such wonderful energizing work in classroom, chapel, and contextual placements, and now you will follow your calling to next steps of ministry, whatever that may look like. And I, along with your professors and peers prayerfully send you into these next steps with joy.

But I have to warn you about something, and it may not be easy for you to hear. In fact, I consider it strange and burdensome that I have to tell you this, but tell it I must.

Not all of you are going to make it.

I know. I didn't want to say that. Most think that this isn't the right time to speak of dark and depressing things, but I can think of no better time for you to hear this than right now. So you might as well hear it from me.

Basically, it's been my observation that you with whom we celebrate today--particularly you who are planning on entering the local church--eventually will fall into at least three different categories. You won't know which one fits you best until it happens, and it probably won't be for at least a few years. Allow me a few minutes to describe each one. They start out the same, but eventually diverge in the vocational wood.

First, there will be those of you who can conceive of nothing different than the past few years of pursuing justice and creativity in all things. The church at its best embodies what you've experienced here, and thus it must always be so. As a result, your first few years in a local church may be as far as you get. You'll want to claw out your eyeballs the first time you have to mediate an argument about how often to polish the pews. You'll quickly tire of the same hymns sung week after week and year after year. You may not know what to do with yourself the first time you realize that not everybody wants to follow you headfirst into a half dozen Really Important Causes. You'll wonder why council meetings are dominated by conversations about where to hang a painting rather than how best to serve the poor.

You'll experience all this, and you may end up wondering whether your call to ministry was ever a real thing. After all, this wasn't what you thought you were signing up for, was it? Surely you were going to come in and sing cutting-edge music and fight the good fight for all who are oppressed until a big river of righteousness began flowing down your center aisle, right? But instead, the church and its mixture of people are anxious about other things, some or most of which will seem inconsequential to you.

The good news for you who are in this first category is that yes, you probably won't spend more than a couple years in an established church, but you may seek out the necessary avenues through your denomination to start something brand new. You can't see yourself slogging through the caked-up muddy mix of issues that a church decades or centuries old is dealing with, but you could see yourself creating something out of nothing, something fresh and different and that fits your vision of what the church should be about. There's nothing wrong with that. If that's how you can best fulfill your calling, then God be with you.

The second group experiences everything the first group experiences, but decides to stick around. Unfortunately for both your congregation and yourself, you've decided that you're destined to be miserable because you can't be bothered to figure out something else to do with your life. You've just spent thousands of dollars on an education, so this is what you have to put up with as some sort of penance. So you'll spend week after week, month after month, year after year, rolling your eyes every time the phone rings, sniping at your parishioners every time they offer a suggestion or critique or whenever they focus on some "unimportant" thing, and generally hating everything that you do every day. You'll keep telling yourself that your talents are being wasted with these people and that some ideal church exists out there just for you, and every few years you'll probably circulate your profile and start fresh somewhere else that seems like it would be more liberating. Basically, you'll have a career of short and unhappy pastorates that will cause increments of emotional and spiritual death for you and every church you serve, and you'll never admit that you'd be better off working out your calling with fear and trembling at St. Arbucks than in a real church context. Seriously, if you end up falling into this group, get out and work at a coffeehouse or a mattress store for a few years to chill out and regroup, then maybe someday you can try again.

And you who will fall into the third group? You'll probably start off with many of the same realizations about the church as the first two. To be honest, every seminary graduate does. The difference is that you'll decide to stick around, all the while praying for patience, but also determined not to spend part of every day praying for a speedy road to retirement. Instead, you'll accept that arguments about paintings and pews happen, but you'll also decide that you aren't going to let people only be concerned with those things. Sure, you'll trudge through moments that seem ridiculous to you, but you'll also be listening to the issues underneath, trying to draw them out and minister to them as best you can. You'll find ways to introduce new worship elements and cultivate passion for service, but only after you realize that you'll probably have to be at this with the same group of people for a while before it even begins to happen.

Basically, Third Groupers (and First Groupers as well...and maybe eventually even you Second Groupers): you need to love your church. Whether it's a congregation that's been around since a group of German immigrants plopped down in the middle of a field 200 years ago or the brand new group of urbanites you've gathered in your living room, you need to learn to love these people including all of their flaws and hang-ups and treasure their gifts and ideas. You need to accept that the ideal vision of the church that you've been refining in your head the past few years may never come to fruition; that instead you've been sent to these people, and they to you, in a particular time and place. There will be the occasional bad match and moments where it seems you've come as far as you can together, but it takes time to figure that out, too. In the meantime, the world of ministry into which you have stepped involves being vulnerable enough to fall in love with actual people rather than your own ideas about people.

This calling is not for the weak of heart. I don't know how often you've heard that during your seminary years, but it's the truth. You'll be frustrated, you'll doubt yourself and others, you'll be tempted to leave, and you'll have illusions demolished. You'll also learn how to navigate relationships, build trust, and move toward something together, albeit imperfectly. And to do that, you'll have to love what you're doing and those with whom you're doing it.

There really is no other way. It's better if you hear it now so that you can be more fully prepared. Those who don't prepare are the ones who won't make it. So may God bless your journey wherever it takes you next, and may you allow the Spirit to empower you with love, no matter what.

GAME DAY

2011-09-03T06:00:00.000-04:00

September the First

2011-09-01T06:22:00.000-04:00

It was mid-August. I woke up and began my day in the usual way: Coffeeson was up first, standing outside his room saying, "Daddy? Daddy, where are you?" Glancing at the clock to make sure it was an hour when normal people are awake, I rolled out of bed to collect my toddler and to get us some breakfast.

He with his juice and Pop-Tart, and I with my coffee, I pulled up a window shade and was greeted by a realization: we were receiving our morning sun's rays from a different angle, casting the shadows of late summer. I can't really explain this; they're just different, you know? In addition to this, the clouds were a little more prominent, providing cover in a way that only begins to happen this time of year and will continue on through the next several months.

This sight made me smile, because I knew what it meant: September is coming.

September, with its ushering in of the wet and wind that causes us to dive into closets to find our sweatshirts, and every Friday evening is accompanied by marching band drums and muffled announcements over loudspeakers off in the distance. The Halloween decorations have already appeared in stores and baseball teams are on the home stretch in the playoff race while increasingly competing for time on ESPN with the start of football season. People welcome the end of mowing the lawn while perhaps also dreading the looming use of their snowblowers.

September, ushering in a season of transition that has already begun, entered into my heart in the middle of August, and I was all too happy to welcome it there. Now it officially arrives, and I am all the more joyful.

Empty Pot

2011-08-12T06:41:00.001-04:00

I have some great ideas for blog posts.

The problem is that I don't really feel like writing them. I tried starting a couple, but quickly lost interest and gave up.

To me, that's a bad sign. Truthfully, I haven't been approaching this with a lot of energy lately. I'm actually kind of sick of looking at this place right now.

So I'm taking the rest of August off. Rather than try to force something, it seems best to just step away for a while.

But if this doesn't work...who knows?

Peace.

Vintage POC: Why I'm a Michigan Fan

2011-08-10T07:29:00.000-04:00

In honor of fall camp starting this week, I thought I'd share this post that I wrote just last year right before the new college football season started. I'm looking forward to yet another fresh start for my favorite team, one that promises to turn out better than the last one. Hopefully.

I suppose that part of it comes down to simple things like birth and geography.

I was born in Southfield, Michigan, which is just outside Detroit. At that time, my parents lived in Farmington while my father was pastoring a church there. My family would live in two other communities around Michigan, including a stint in the Upper Peninsula, before moving...ahem...further south. My mom's side of the family lives around Dearborn, and weekend trips to see them, even after we moved out of the state, were fairly frequent while I was growing up.

So, quite simply, I'm a Michigander by birth. Those years are getting further and further away from me, and the argument can be made that after 20+ years I'm much more of an Ohioan, and on a certain level that'd be true. My knowledge of the state of Michigan are based mostly on memory, while my knowledge of Ohio happens in the here and now; has been happening for much longer.

"So why don't you just root for Ohio State?" I've actually been asked that question more than once, and it's based on stupid logic. If an Ohioan moves to Michigan, is he or she automatically going to start cheering for Michigan or, God forbid, Michigan State? I believe the vast majority of Buckeye fans would sooner chew off an arm. So why do you think I should start cheering for the other side? If you bring up recent results, you're only using the same stupid logic: the rivalry didn't start in 2001, people. But I digress.

When I was a kid, I went through a brief phase where I cheered for the Chicago White Sox. I told everybody that they were my favorite baseball team. It wasn't based on anything. I didn't know their players or their record or how far away Chicago was or anything. I just decided that I liked the White Sox. I remember going on about this at my grandparents' house in Dearborn one afternoon, and after a while I started asking everyone, "So, who's your favorite baseball team?" One after another, they all had the same answer: the Tigers, of course. I remember being so confused about this. How could it possibly be that they all happened to answer the same way? Who were these "Tigers," and why did absolutely everyone around me like them so much? The fact that they basically played just down the road from where I was sitting, along with the fact that they were the only Major League team in Michigan, were slow to come to me. I was so young, so naive. But eventually I got it.

My loyalty to University of Michigan sports came much more organically than my baseball loyalty. It was just who I always liked; just who I always cheered for. Have you ever heard the adage, "Ask a fish about the water, and the fish will reply, 'What water?'" It was like that. It's like that for most people who grow up among the fanbases of any particular team. I needed to be worked over regarding baseball a little bit, but with Michigan it just happened. I received Michigan apparel at nearly every birthday and Christmas, and even after we moved to Ohio I didn't think twice about wearing it to school. I hardly ever sat down to watch a game in those days, but I still knew who I liked, mostly because I was being bred to like them.

I do need to mention that this didn't come from just one side of the family. My father's father actually attended Michigan for a couple years before transferring out. He was a fan of the school and its teams until the day he died. I received more than one Michigan-themed gift from him as well. My family ties to fandom have been quite rich that way.

A deeper sense of loyalty, one that goes beyond "We like them, so you like them," came slowly. I did begin paying more and more attention to the goings-on of the teams. I remember reading articles about the Fab Five and their back-to-back trips to the NCAA finals in basketball. Eventually, I also got to read about Chris Webber's bone-headed timeout mistake, and later on, Ed Martin's really huge bone-headed mistakes resulting in sanctions. Still, I was understanding what it meant to be a fan.

The same was happening with football. I didn't watch many games when I was younger, but I did always watch The Game no matter what. As the 1990s wore on, I'd watch at least snippets of other games, and began to pay attention to players more and more: Howard, Woodson, Wheatley, Biakabutuka, Mercury Hayes. I was also dating an Ohio State fan at the time, so being able to trash-talk her became a priority as well (you know, in love). When Michigan outright won shared the National Championship in 1997, my fandom rose even more.

Fast forward to 2005. The football team wasn't doing well that year, but it was still a significant season for me because it was the first time I ever made a trip to Michigan Stadium, aka The Big House. The Wolverines played Eastern Michigan that day, so the outcome wasn't really in doubt before the game started. I remember it was an overcast day. My brother and I soaked up the atmosphere, the physical surroundings, the gameday traditions. Walking past the sea of tailgates made me feel like I was in a dream; part of me worried that I'd wake up any moment once again surrounded by Buckeyes.

The 2006 season took my fandom to a crazy sort of level, what one may typically call "fanaticism." As Michigan tallied win after win, it was becoming apparent that something special was brewing. By the time #1 Ohio State and #2 Michigan were set to square off in The Game To End All Games, my fandom was at a fever pitch. Bo Schembechler's death added to it as well, as I took time to appreciate what he meant to the program and to the rivalry. Michigan came up 3 points short that evening, but I was still as proud as ever to be a fan. My attention was heavily invested in the team that year to a point that I'll never return from. That game and that season flipped a switch in my brain that, despite nearly everything that has happened since, has no hope of ever being switched back off.

So it began with just being born in the right location. And some may argue that Coffeeson, following logic slightly more sound than when I'm asked why I don't root for someone else, will be a Buckeye fan or at least ask why we're not. Over the years I've realized that it's about a lot more than geography. It's about the winningest program in college football. It's about the legacy of greatness left by Yost, Crisler, Bo, and Lloyd. It's about all the conference and national championships. It's about winged helmets and "The Victors." It's about the history and tradition that precedes most other teams, so rich and influential that it includes things like teaching Notre Dame how to play football and the Michigan marching band doing the script Ohio before anyone wearing scarlet and grey ever did.

Both for myself and for Coffeeson, I can point to all that and say, "That's why."

Go Blue.

Transform Our Praise - A Prayer Based on Psalm 150

2011-08-08T06:16:00.001-04:00

When we offer our praise, what don’t you already know?
What haven’t you already heard?
What poetry or prose would be new or impressive or exceptional to you?
What music has not yet moved upward and outward into the vastness of your being?

We praise from within white walls, polished oak, and stained glass;
We praise alongside lakes, on beaches, through treetops and from grassy fields.
We remind you of what you’ve done, are doing, and will do as if you aren’t already aware;
We beautify our language—speaking of “worth” and offering flattery to the Source of Life as if it will gain us extraordinary audience.

These acts of naming sacred ground and of offering our best words, is as much for us as it is for you.
We struggle to describe what you are doing so that it makes more sense to us.
We name your deeds and attributes so that we may even begin to understand your Being and your Doing.
We have received breath and by that same breath strive to understand its Giver.

Transform our praise.
Make it more than feeble attempts at divine manipulation or rote obligation.
Spirit away ambitions that are selfish or self-aware.
By what is nameless and indescribable, move us beyond words and notes to illuminating connection and inner renovation.

It is in thanksgiving for your actions and in craving your continued presence that we praise.
What we offer, you already know and have already heard.
We seek your movement, and to move as you move.

Pop Culture Roundup

2011-08-05T10:36:00.003-04:00

Special Announcement: I'm thinking of having this feature go from weekly to biweekly. There are some weeks where I just haven't read, watched, or listened to enough to justify one, and I think that the current frequency puts more undue pressure on me to produce something in between regardless of quality. So, expect that to happen probably.

I'm still reading Cutting for Stone, and I think I'm finally far enough into it that I can offer a real opinion. Are you ready? Here goes: this book is...okay. Marion and Shiva Stone are twins born to a nun who dies giving birth to them. The father, a surgeon named Thomas Stone, abandons them, and they are adopted by the other two doctors who work at a mission hospital in Ethiopia. This is set against the backdrop of political turmoil in that country in the '50s and '60s, which occasionally weighs down the narrative. It's a hard line to walk when writing historical fiction, and certain parts have had my eyes glazing over. The detailed descriptions of medical procedures and terms have done that as well: Marion and Shiva, along with their parents, spend their lives immersed in such an environment so a certain amount of that is to be expected, but at times it reads like a textbook. The story itself, however, is pretty compelling. It's told from Marion's point of view as he tells of his special connection to his brother, growing up in a doctor's home, coming to grips with his biological father's absence, falling in love, political upheaval, and eventually needing to escape to America. That's where I am now in the novel. I want to see it through, but I won't list this among my favorites.

Gordon Atkinson wrote an amazing post about silence at the High Calling.

We have Netflix through our Wii console, which for the most part only offers either stuff that came out years ago or stuff we've never heard of that probably went direct to DVD for good reason. However, there are some diamonds in the rough such as every Phineas and Ferb episode and, more recently, all the original episodes of He-Man and the Masters of the Universe. Ask Coffeewife how I reacted when I found those, and she'll say a bunch of embarrassing things about me. For the past week or more I've been taken back to my living room in Galien, Michigan, playing with action figures and anticipating the start of each new episode. I've introduced it to Coffeeson, who loves it as well and regularly asks to watch the next one. I must admit a few things, though: at times the show is unintentionally hilarious. The show is nearly 30(!) years old, so the animation is...limited. The plots are also sometimes quite silly, along with the "life lessons" at the end. But this is the central show of my childhood TV viewing, and I'm still enjoying the crap out of it.

Speaking of Phineas and Ferb, "Phineas and Ferb The Movie: Across the 2nd Dimension" premieres tonight at 8 p.m. Here's the trailer:

Comparing Carman to a Cartoon Robot

2011-08-04T09:01:00.001-04:00

Carman:

My Story - Carman from zman3366 on Vimeo.

Norm the Robot on Phineas & Ferb:

Vintage POC: Loving Theory More Than Reality

2011-08-03T06:23:00.002-04:00

The recent goings-on in Washington caused me to remember this post from June 2010. While I'm not a fan of how stuff played out, it made me think about how much different everything probably looked "on the ground" as opposed to where the rest of us were sitting. Not an excuse, just thinking about the process in general.

A while back on this blog, somebody jokingly (at least, I think they were joking) made a comment that when I get to be General Minister and President of the United Church of Christ, I'll get around to fixing all the denomination's problems. Or something to that effect. Whether they were joking or not, I immediately dismissed the idea. Truth be told, I wouldn't wish that position on anyone.

My reasoning behind this basically boils down to one point: no matter how well-meaning you are, no matter how transparent you are, no matter how exhaustively you explain your decisions, people will still question you, suspect you, deride you, and condemn you.

I base this in part on what I saw, heard and read about former UCC GMP John Thomas during the last few years of his service in that role. The big blowup was before, during, and after General Synod 25 in Atlanta, where controversial votes were taken on resolutions related to marriage equality and divesting from companies that support Israel. I had my own hang-ups with him and others during that time, particularly related to divestment. I won't make excuses for him or what happened, but it was a time where so much anger and vitriol was being said and written about him that I couldn't fathom anybody aspiring to such a public lightning rod of a position in our denomination.

Colleagues with whom I've conversed at the middle judicatory level have said as much about their own positions as well. There isn't much glory or sense that one has "made it" in these offices. Instead there are phone calls from anxious people in local churches who want their pastor gone, or there are meetings with church search committees that are stalling due to conflict, or there are churches threatening to pull out of the UCC, or there are budget issues, or a pastor has to be reprimanded for misconduct. The list goes on. And when they go into these situations to help, they are afforded various amounts of trust based on their position or their perceived role as apologist for the UCC. One colleague told me a couple years ago, "You truly have to be called to a position like this. You don't aspire to it." I believe him.

As a local church pastor, I actually haven't had to deal with too much of this kind of stuff. We get along great. Sure, there has been disagreement and anxiety here and there, but nothing too explosive for some time. But when it has, it has certain characteristics in common with what Rev. Thomas and my Association colleagues have had to deal with.

Oftentimes, people love theory more than reality.

First, let me set this up up. The other day I read an editorial by Ross Douthat from the New York Times on how Washington liberals are getting anxious about Obama's presidency. You can do what you want with the majority of the piece, but I want to single out one point that he made near the end:

Yet the liberal drumbeat continues. As Tyler Cowen wrote last week: “advocates of fiscal stimulus make it sound as simple as solving an undergraduate homework problem and ... sometimes genuinely do not realize how much the rest of the world, including politicians, views them as simply being very convinced by their own theory.” Nor do they acknowledge how much risk those same politicians have already taken on (with the first stimulus, the health care bill, and much else besides) in the name of theoretical propositions, while reaping little for their efforts save an ever-grimmer fiscal picture.

The point being made here is that people who are further away from the immediate deliberation and decision-making, further away from the facts and the weighing of options, are looking at what's being carried out, don't like it, and immediately come up with their own better solution. "Why don't they just do this? How stupid! I should be in charge!"

The people who say stuff like that aren't close enough to see why a particular decision was made; why somebody thought it would work. The people closest to it all presumably know more about financial constraints, what's at stake for the groups involved, and what resources are really available to carry out each option. I say "presumably" because let's face it: some decisions aren't as well-thought out as others and it shows. Regardless, even the most carefully weighed decisions that take into account what one has to work with are second-guessed by people who don't have nearly as much information on the matter. All they have is their theory, as opposed to the reality that the deliberators hopefully know more about.

I don't exclude myself from this, and I don't think that this is limited to church issues by a long shot. As noted above, this can be about politics. It can certainly be about sports...after all, this kind of thing is where the term "armchair quarterbacking" came from.

But it certainly does apply to churches. I can name a few instances where someone has criticized a decision I've made and has suggested a better way to do things without knowing what I have and haven't tried, without knowing all the details involved, without knowing how I came to the decision that I did. I explain my reasoning based on the reality of the situation, which is met with varying degrees of understanding. Whether one wants the former abundance of generation-based fellowship groups back or can't fathom how younger people like that "contemporary" stuff or just knows that people would become more involved in certain energy-less ministries if we just advertised them more, my explanations of what I think might work better based on the situation at hand may only go so far. The theory of what others think would or should work is more attractive and satisfying.

Anxiety is a big part of this. It only allows us to accept so much reasoning. If one is anxious over decline or change or failure, theory will look much better than reality. But if we as a church, as a nation, as sports fans, as family members, as members of the workforce, etc. want to move forward, then we need to deal in reality, borrowing from theory only when and where it will actually work.

Small Sips Needs to Check the Temperature in Hell

2011-08-01T06:18:00.004-04:00

Seriously, it's gonna start snowing down there after you read this. Okay. If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know my issues with Campus Crusade for Christ. In more recent years, this has been a more complicated road to navigate because my sister-in-law is on staff with them. Nevertheless, based on personal experience, I'm not a big fan.

A few weeks ago, the news broke that Campus Crusade for Christ is changing its name to Cru, which apparently has been a nickname used at the ground level for a decade or more. The reasoning behind the change is mainly due to the word "crusade" and its connotations. To a lesser extent, "campus" no longer fits, as they've expanded their missions to many other areas besides colleges and universities. This decision has been met with some criticism, though for the other main word that is no longer there:

“Take Christ out, and you become just another crusade,” one critic wrote on the Campus Crusade website. “How repulsive can you get?” Another person wrote, “We are both appalled that you think you have to remove the name Christ from your name.”

“It is sad that an organization like Campus Crusade at least appears to have allowed themselves to be taken by the politically correct environment instead of acting counter culturally as Christ’s followers are called to do,” said Richard Hornsby, of Kansas City. “For an institution like Crusade to appear to cave to the same cultural pressure that leads school principals to harass or try to ban Christian groups from meeting on campus is incredibly sad. We expect the ACLU to intimidate small towns and schools by threatening to sue them. We don’t expect long-standing pillars of the Christian community to fold like this.”

There's plenty to disagree with regarding this name change, as "Cru" doesn't say anything about what the organization is about. I've already read tons of jokes about how they'll now be mistaken for the band that Nikki Sixx and Tommy Lee founded and, to a lesser extent, French wine-making. In addition, there's still plenty to critique about their tactics and theology.

Let's actually give "Cru" some credit, though. They recognized that "crusade" is not the best word for this day and age, and they've taken steps to change it. It wasn't about removing "Christ," as if they're changing their entire philosophy in order to kowtow to Those Awful Liberals. They've "banished" Christ the same way that the UCC has "banished" God the Father (i.e., they haven't). Another tempest in a teacup by people who like being offended.

(HT to The Parish for the...guh...FoxNews article.)

You keep saying "authentic." I do not think it means what you think it means. Rachel Held Evans wrote an article for Relevant Magazine pushing back against "cool churches:"

I want a church that includes fussy kids, old liturgy, bad sound, weird congregants and—brace yourself—painfully amateur “special music” now and then.

Why?

Well, for one thing, when the Gospel story is accompanied by a fog machine and light show, I always get this creeped-out feeling like someone’s trying to sell me something. It’s as though we’re all compensating for the fact that Christianity’s not good enough to stand on its own so we’re adding snacks.

But more importantly, I want to be part of an uncool church because I want to be part of a community that shares the reputation of Jesus. Like it or not, Jesus’ favorite people in the world were not cool. They were mostly sinners, misfits, outcasts, weirdos, poor people, sick people and crazy people.

I think she implies some unintended things about smaller churches with less resources. I've been to flashy churches that have fussy kids, weird congregants, and yes, even bad singers...we don't have a monopoly on those things, thanks.

The other implication is that these less-flashy churches are more "authentic." They're clearly not caught up in or capable of lightshows and polished music, so obviously they're engaged in more genuine community and ministry together, right? Believe me when I tell you that in smaller churches, fussy kids still get dirty looks, weird congregants may be accepted or they may just be tolerated, and bad singers may be complimented in the sanctuary but then ripped in the parking lot (behind their back, of course).

The point is that authentic community, no matter the size, configuration, or resource base of a congregation, is something that needs to be worked at intentionally. People like to romanticize smaller churches, but we struggle with this as much as anybody else. It's just that we may struggle with it more because nobody is able to be anonymous, rather than the big church's struggle being due to getting caught up in the show.

And what does "authentic" mean, anyway? I think we need a moratorium on that word for a while.

More boogity. Shirl James Hoffman of The Huffington Post offers some commentary on Joe Nelms' NASCAR prayer:

Nelms seems destined for the same fame. Bloggers have rushed to congratulate him, one commenting that "it is the best prayer he has ever heard." But those who view prayer as sacred business, an intimate conversation between sinners and their redemptive source, are unlikely to jump on the bandwagon. One needn't have a particular theological bend to see that using prayer as a bit of shtick or hijacking a public-prayer opportunity to deliver a bit of stand-up is crass and insensitive, if not profane. And some would remind the good pastor that the scripture around which he no doubt crafts his Sunday sermons, warns mightily against calling attention to yourself when you pray.

[...]

Prayers inserted into a culture where the reigning ethos so often mocks the faith than gives them life have always been difficult to take seriously. "What," one is aching to ask Nelms, "was the purpose of the prayer?" Silly, irreverent and banal, it seemed a perfect accompaniment to the raucous, spiritually vacuous events transpiring at the race track that afternoon.

I really don't have a lot to add. When I posted the video the other day, I had a few people praise it because it made them laugh or because it obviously caused the crowd to listen. I'm all for thinking of better ways to get people to listen, but one also needs to seriously weigh whether what they're listening to has any substance. Nelms whiffed on the substance component, but hey, we all had a laugh. Shake n' Bake.

Pop Culture Roundup

2011-07-29T06:17:00.002-04:00

Still reading Cutting for Stone. I'm much deeper into the book, but for whatever reason I can't come up with a whole lot to write about it. As I think I've already said, it tells the story of twins born to a nun in Ethiopia, and is the story of their being brought up in a hospital culture. I don't think I have a lot to say about it yet because I don't find myself really reacting to it one way or the other. It's just a story that I'm reading; I haven't really formed an opinion about it. In fact, I've been incapable of doing that so far. So I'll just keep reading in the hopes that that'll change.

The eighth and final season of Entourage started this past Sunday. Vince is just getting out of rehab, Eric and Sloan apparently aren't engaged anymore, Ari and his wife have separated, Drama is working on his new show, and Turtle is doing whatever with his tequila business. As is the MO of this show, we weren't treated to the hard stuff involved in Vince's recovery, we just have him getting out and everybody wanting to throw him a party in a house full of hot Hollywood women. It's the standard for this show to never get in too deep with drama or complexity. No doubt, the show will end with these four the best of friends, everything looking up, nobody sad for too long. And yet I must see it through, so what does that say about me?

I was sad to hear about the death of Amy Winehouse. She clearly had some major problems, but at the same time was incredibly talented. I always enjoyed her music. Here's her first single off of Back to Black, "You Know I'm No Good:"

And here's the first Michigan football hype video that I've seen this year:

Boogity boogity boogity, amen.

2011-07-27T06:15:00.001-04:00

This man is a credit to my profession:

Stirrings

2011-07-25T06:31:00.001-04:00

"If you’re the pastor, you’ll probably find yourself saying, “I can’t believe it’s been seven years!” And if you’re anything like those four pastors who came to me for spiritual direction, you’ll start feeling some stirrings that will blossom full-blown next year." - Israel Galindo, Staying Put

I've become somebody's mentor. I didn't mean to. It happened completely by accident.

I remember the first time he walked into the church. Young guy, mid-20s, tall, well-kept. He wandered in behind his family who'd been attending off and on for a few months by that point. Politely and pleasantly, he shook my hand and said "good morning," and took his seat in preparation for worship. After the service, I clearly remember him saying "thank you" as he moved through the greeting line. The next week, he said "thank you" again. This happened for at least the first month that he attended, eventually on his own and without prompting from others.

A few months later, he sent me a letter saying that he wanted to join. For the first time of many, we met for coffee to talk about it. He'd never been baptized to his knowledge, so we determined easily that that would be the way it would happen. The day came, and his extended family joined in on the celebration, expressing thankfulness to me that he had made this decision. As a side note, I learned that I went to elementary school with one of his cousins. She'd even attended the baptism and commented to him afterward that I looked familiar. Small world.

Anyway, his curiosity abounded. He had all sorts of questions about theology, the Bible, Jesus, the church, the UCC. I happily engaged him, all the while sipping from mugs in area coffeehouses. At some point, he began to discern a call to ministry, so we started talking about that process as well.

Eventually, he found an apartment in a nearby town. It was simple, which fit his life philosophy. He's a simple guy; he appreciates a lot of things that many of us don't see on a daily basis because we're so caught up in our own stupid trivialities. What we ignore, he embraces. It's been but one of his gifts to me. Anyway, one of the first times I visited his place to talk about the Gospel of Mark, whatever passage we were studying inspired him to launch into story after story about his background, becoming so animated and passionate that he needed to stand up in order to express himself properly. So I'm sitting on the floor of this apartment, Bible open in front of me, watching and listening to some of this young man's life history. And it was sometime during this moment that I realized that I'm doing exactly the sort of ministry that I want to do.

Our meetings continued. I helped get him started in a lay ministry program. I guided him as he prepared to preach to our faith community. I began to consider how the church may create a short-term apprenticeship position for him. I don't know when exactly it happened, but I'd become a mentor. I still don't completely know what to do with this realization, other than to treat it with care. But that's the only conclusion I've reached so far.

Some time later, life became difficult for him. And I don't want to say too much about this because it's not my story to tell. Setback after setback after setback. The church helped. It wasn't enough. At perhaps his lowest point, we lost contact for a week or so. The church helped again, this time in a bigger way. Combined with some other things, it was enough. Things are getting better, and he and I praise God together for it.

It was during that week of silence, however, that took me on my own journey. I was hating his situation, I was hating that I couldn't do more, I was hating that he was out there dealing with it, not knowing what to say or how to reach out. But I was also wondering. I was surprised by the depth of loss that I was feeling alongside him, in part because we were out of contact for a time. On one level, it was a friendship thing. Pastors inevitably befriend church members, boundary training be damned. Call me out on that, advise me to be careful, right, I get it. Thanks. But as a pastor, I wanted to do more because he was one of my people, and I've reached a point where when something happens to one of my people it causes my heart to ache in a way that may not have been possible five or six years ago.

I think that these are the type of "stirrings" to which the above cited article alludes. You stay in one place long enough, and the relationship changes and deepens. In my case, I freak out. I freak out because I'm not used to being around the same people for this long. I freak out because I realize that we're still together doing our thing, and what do I do to keep it going if that's what I'm supposed to do?

The last kid from my first confirmation class just graduated high school. Some things I started years ago are going well; others, not so much. We're doing well here, we're not doing well over here. This person has moved more into the center of my line of vision, this other person has moved more to the perimeter. I've started preaching through the three-year lectionary cycle...again. A thing I thought had resolved a need is now on shaky ground. In a few more years, this other thing is going to be in major trouble; am I the one equipped to deal with it when it happens? I invent, I re-invent, I envision, I re-envision, this works, this used to work, this worked for a year and no longer works. And all of it has been done with the same people, the same shifting and deepening and frustrating and uplifting set of relationships.

The longer I stay, the more likely I am to be stirred when a relationship goes bad or disappears for a while. The more likely I'll be stirred when something I thought worked, doesn't. The more likely I'll be stirred when so-and-so, whom I've now known for so long, dies and I have to officiate her funeral. The more likely I'll be stirred to joy and reflection by something that bears fruit.

The beginning of May of this year, we started using Powerpoint in worship. It started on Easter during one small portion of the service, and it went over so well to the point that many suggested, "Why don't we just put the whole service up there?" By the end of spring, we were and are. People can read along with prayers, scriptures, and songs, and I hunt down a half dozen or more pictures every week for slides where no reading is required. Finally, my visual learners have more to hold onto during worship. We're just beginning to explore the creative possibilities with this medium.

It took 6 1/2 years of laying the groundwork for that to happen. 6 1/2 years of deepening relationship and building trust and planting seeds. It was the sort of move that I never would have expected to be possible, and after that long it became so. It's the sort of major worship change that signifies how far we've come together, our collective comfort level.

It's also brought a feeling of arrival for me. I have these from time to time, but this is a big one that I don't totally understand yet. A projector in worship is a significant shift for this church, and a significant shift for my ministry where I am. It's the type of shift that has caused me to take stock of where we've been and what we're currently doing: embracing technology, becoming more modern in philosophy, engaging in mission. I'm now burying people I've known for a fairly long time. I'm watching kids I brought up through confirmation and senior high activities graduate and get married. I'm watching older church pillars step away from activities and struggle more and more with canes and walkers. I'm wrestling with faith issues alongside others in coffeehouses, pubs, and sometimes while sitting on an apartment floor.

I consider all of this and feel stirrings. They're stirrings about how long I've been at this, how long I've been in relationship with these people, what has become possible as a result. And I can only give thanks and see what happens next.

Pop Culture Roundup

2011-07-22T06:11:00.009-04:00

I'm a little further into Cutting for Stone now, which is about the lives of twins born to a nun in Ethiopia. While the book will focus on their relationship, I'm still at the part recounting the life of their mother and their birth. For me it's been slow reading, not because the story is slow but just because I haven't devoted much time to reading. So until I can make it deeper into the novel, I still can't really say too much about it.

We ordered WWE Money in the Bank this past Sunday, so named for the two featured eight-man ladder matches where wrestlers compete to climb a ladder and pull down a briefcase containing a contract for a World Title match (Did that make sense?). These two matches were decent enough, although I never would've guessed at Daniel Bryan winning the one match; Alberto Del Rio winning the other was to be expected, though. But the big anticipated match, the reason I and probably most others ordered the show, was the CM Punk vs. John Cena WWE title match. I posted one promo from Punk the other week; here's the one that aired the week leading up to the event:

Long story short, after an awesome match in Punk's hometown of Chicago in which he was the clear favorite, Punk ended up winning the WWE Title, running out through the crowd to celebrate. He has since tweeted pictures of the belt in his refrigerator and at a Cubs game. And THEN, he crashed the WWE discussion panel (featuring HHH, Rey Mysterio, and Bret Hart) at Comic-Con:

And thus continues one of the greatest storylines in years. I haven't felt this excited to be a wrestling fan in quite a while. In recent years, the Hart and Rock returns have been great and I'd rank my excitement for those being pretty close, but this is something else.

A recent article in Entertainment Weekly made the observation that nearly everyone in True Blood has undergone a big character change, and honestly I think that's why I've been liking this season more. Tara is hardcore rather than whiny, Bill is a little more sinister instead of Southern Edward Cullen, Sookie is more just fed up with everything instead of a nag. At the same time, I pretty much hate the Jason werepanther storyline (which the other week included a gang rape scene) and for me the jury is still out regarding the witch storyline. Getting more of the head witch's backstory will help with that, I think.

The eighth and final season of Entourage starts this Sunday. Here's the extended trailer:

And here's the Beastie Boys' "Sabotage," parodied by 4-year-olds:

A Prayer for Difficult Times by Ignatius of Loyola

2011-07-20T06:16:00.003-04:00

This prayer is shared by RevTrev, which he linked specifically to depression. Between that link and my preparations to be immersed in Ignatian thought over the next few years, I share it here:

O Christ Jesus,
when all is darkness
and we feel our weakness and helplessness,
give us the sense of Your presence,
Your love, and Your strength.
Help us to have perfect trust
in Your protecting love
and strengthening power,
so that nothing may frighten or worry us,
for, living close to You,
we shall see Your hand,
Your purpose, Your will through all things.

The UCC and God the Father

2011-07-18T06:15:00.007-04:00

One of the big outcomes of the United Church of Christ's General Synod 28 at the beginning of July was its approval of changes to the Constitution and Bylaws to move toward unified governance for its boards at the national setting. There are currently five such boards, and these changes will slim those down to one board of 50 members. The 27th General Synod in Grand Rapids approved making this move, and this vote was approving the details of how that will happen. There were, of course, objections to the overall concept that people voiced at this latest Synod, while others focused on the specific makeup of the board and whether minority groups would be adequately represented. Nevertheless, it passed, and we move toward this new model.

In addition to those changes in the Constitution and Bylaws, there was one other change that has received a lot of attention, both during debate at Synod and since:

Delegates at the United Church of Christ's General Synod 28 recently voted overwhelmingly in favor of amending the denomination's constitution so that the phrase “heavenly Father” will no longer be present anywhere in its text.

Instead of reading “A Local Church is composed of persons who, believing in God as heavenly Father,” under the proposal, Article V of the church constitution would read, “A Local Church is composed of persons who, believing in the triune God.”

Delegates passed the proposal 613 to 161 in favor of the changes to the text, as reported by UCNews. Ten delegates abstained from voting.

Okay, right off the bat, notice how this change is being represented. This article, for instance, presents this as if it was the main change that was debated. The article does mention the unified governance changes later, but it's as if that was just a minor discussion held after the fact. Many other online articles present this in similar fashion, as if the UCC, in its latest act of liberalest liberalism, has rejected (some say "banished") the image of God the Father.

The perpetuation of this version of events has helped along by Biblical Witness Fellowship, a reform group within the UCC:

The Biblical Witness Fellowship, a group of UCC pastors and church members that was formed in response to “UCC's theological surrender to the moral and spiritual confusion of contemporary culture,” made their disapproval of the decision clear. David Runnion-Bareford, executive director of BWF and a leader who supported keeping “heavenly Father” in the language of the constitution, spoke out on the organization's website before the vote was taken in Tampa, Fla., last weekend.

“Rejecting God as Father in an age of fatherlessness is unthinkable,” he said. “God acted toward us in amazing grace when He offered to be our Father through the sacrifice of his Son, Jesus Christ who offers us life in his name. This is not something we as humans made up in some other time. Rejecting our Father is act of arrogant rebellion in the name of cultural conformity that only further alienates members, churches, but more importantly God himself.”

The reasoning given for the change to begin with is the multitude of images for God both in scripture and tradition, both male and female. Father is one among many, though it has been given prominence down through the ages particularly because Jesus used that image quite often, to say nothing of implicit and explicit patriarchal reasons. But in addition to masculine imagery there are many feminine images as well, such as mother (Isaiah 42:12, Numbers 11:12, Isaiah 46:3-4), seamstress (Nehemiah 9:21), and hen (Matthew 23:37), among many others. At various points God is also a tower (Proverbs 18:10), an eagle (Deuteronomy 32:11), a rock (Psalm 95:1), a fortress (Psalm 31:3), light (Psalm 27:1), and a bear, lion, & leopard (Hosea 13:6-8). Yes, they really are in there. So charges of arrogant rebellion are greatly exaggerated.

Besides that, nobody seems to be looking at this in terms of what the language was changed to, that being the triune God. Think about this: a single image among many for God was removed and a doctrinally traditional description of God held by many Christians--including, no doubt, the members of BWF--replaced it. God is now explicitly referred to as triune instead. Considering how often I've heard the ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS joke that UCC really stands for "Unitarians Considering Christ," people like Runnion-Bareford should be jumping for joy about this affirmation of the Trinity, of whom one member is God the Father (or, if you prefer, Creator, Parent, etc.). God the Father is implicit in this language change, just as the Trinity is implicit in his complaints about the change. The UCC is charged with parting ways with historic Christianity, so surely somebody can explain how affirming the Trinity does that, right?

If that wasn't enough, let's consider for a moment Runnion-Bareford's specific charge about moral and spiritual confusion. Somebody from BWF can correct me on this, but I presume that this has to do with the smorgasbord of spiritual options available in American culture, from which many pick and choose at will. As a result, among other things, the identity of the Christian God can become murky. Thus God as Father becomes important in this age because it it gives God a specific identity that is faithful to traditional Christianity, the same identity that Jesus often gave God. It is a very clear definition of who God is. This is the argument as I understand it.

Well...the Trinity gives a very clear and more narrow definition of God as well. In fact, the UCNews article linked above mentions that an objection was raised to this change for that reason: perhaps some individual members and churches would find this doctrinal description too constricting. This change still gives God a clear and historically-held Christian identity that includes God as Father among other images.

From where I'm sitting there really isn't anything to complain about here. But people like Runnion-Bareford will complain and the UCC will continue to be presented as the most liberally liberal denomination, even when it's not really acting as such.

Pop Culture Roundup

2011-07-15T07:30:00.002-04:00

I just started reading Cutting for Stone by Abraham Vergese, though I'm not very far into it yet so I can't say too much about it.

I watched Chaos Theory this past week, starring Ryan Reynolds as Frank, an efficiency expert who is incredibly organized and punctual for everything. His wife, meaning to set the clocks ten minutes forward in order to help him be on time for a big presentation, sets them back instead and makes him late, which starts a domino effect of events that disrupt his entire life outlook. Or at least, that's the premise. First off, reading that description caused me to expect something along the lines of Yes Man: overly cautious guy learns to let go and try new things. I was pleasantly surprised that this is a far more weighted film: it does have some humor, but what happens to Frank is far more upsetting and serious. Reynolds, of course, pulls it off very well. Second, the fact that he's ten minutes late is not necessarily the reason why what happens next happens - it could have happened whether he'd been on time or not, but that didn't bother me too much. At times, there isn't really a likable character to be found, but that's part of the messiness that the movie portrays. It was a great piece of dramedy, probably one of the best movies I've seen so far this year.

We went to the midnight showing of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2 last night/this morning. I write this in a bit of a haze since I haven't had that first (second, third, and fourth) cup of coffee yet. Regardless, this was a great finish to the franchise. It had a lot of action, mostly consisting of the final battle at Hogwarts. But it also managed to hit the right dramatic notes when presenting Snape's background, Harry's preparation to meet Voldemort and accept his initial fate, and the overall chaos of battle that includes the loss of beloved characters. It managed to be a well-balanced movie that way, never feeling slow but also never feeling bogged down with the action sequences. As a bonus, there's a trailer for next summer's The Dark Knight Rises shown beforehand, which I was as excited to see as the movie itself.

The artist formerly known as Real Live Preacher, Gordon Atkinson, has re-emerged at a new blog called Tertium Squid. I'm very glad to be able to read his writing again.

I came across this praise song the other week, called "Revelation Song." I like this version despite the 4,297 people on the stage who don't understand the concept of "less is more." I like the tune itself, and plan to bring it to a certain rural Ohio UCC church in the near future in a much simpler, more stripped down manner:

Oblivious Church Sign of the Day

2011-07-14T07:16:00.003-04:00

The best I can come up with is that it's a play on the word "beach:"

HT to Jesus Needs New PR.

Speak the Good - A Prayer Based on Genesis 1

2011-07-13T06:18:00.004-04:00

Before time, nothingness.
Before form and shape, before light and shade, a void.
Before fullness of life, empty.

And over the nothing, through the void, into the emptiness, you breathed.
The waters of the void, once twisting and crashing unrefined, began to separate.
And something took shape.
Light and dark.
Sun and moon.
Ocean and continent.
Salmon, dove, lion, cow.
Us.

You breathed into the black, and through your breath you spoke, and through your speaking, it began.
Swirling galaxies, rotating planets, and blazing comets responded to your speaking, and became.

As you commanded, you also blessed.
What you deemed would be, you also deemed worthy of being.
Into existence, you spoke good things.
The light and dark is good.
The sun and moon is good.
The oceans and continents are good.
The flora and fauna are good.
You spoke the good, and it was so.

You spoke the good, but we don’t always remember.
We can’t always hear you speaking the good…
…over the cries of children with bloated bellies.
…over the immolating explosions of war.
…over the accusing words of fear and degradation fired like bullets into another’s flesh.
It is as if the waters of the void continue crashing unrefined, and we wonder if you’re still speaking at all.

As Earth moves and spins, your speaking the good is still needed.

Over the nothing, through the void, into our emptiness, breathe.
As you command, bless.
Speak the good. Let it be so.

Roots

2011-07-11T06:18:00.001-04:00

As a pastor, I've visited a lot of cemeteries.

It's an inevitable part of my vocation. Somebody calls me to let me know that their wife, husband, father, mother, grandparent, sister, brother, or whomever died. I get a call from the funeral home maybe a day later, at which point they tell me when and where the service is taking place, and where the burial will be. The location of the service is usually a predictable choice between the soft pink lights and soothing piano music on CD of the funeral home, or in the sanctuary of the church. It makes no difference to me, really. Funeral home services are much shorter due to the general lack of hymns and corporately read prayers. Every once in a while somebody would like a favorite song sung together, or at least as much as people are up for singing. But for the most part, they're about half as long as a church service which, as you might expect, is normally held at the request of member families who couldn't imagine the one for whom they grieve not being commended to God from the pews in which they sat for decades.

No, the place where one's life is celebrated, stories are shared, scriptures and prayers and songs are lifted is a fairly predictable choice for me. In that sense, I know what to expect and plan for as soon as I know what the people want. The place of burial, however, is almost a guessing game. I've been to perhaps a dozen or so such places in the area, and it could be any of them, or some new place I've never experienced. Depending on where we end up, we may say final goodbyes in a chapel, under a pavilion, or under the green tent with minimal padded seating. We may stand near a vault or over a rectangular hole. There may already be the stone memorializing a spouse, parent, or child close by, to which the departed will now be enjoined at least in a symbolic way.

My favorite to visit is probably the nearby national cemetery. Like any military cemetery, the word that defines one's entire experience there is "precision." When the funeral caravan arrives, it must stop next to a front office building where the funeral director delivers papers and waits for the Go signal. Then, on the half hour, we make our way through the perfectly-aligned rows of markers and vaults to a pavilion where a small group of veterans awaits. Military honors are conducted first, and before I open my prayer book I am reminded that I'll be cut off if I go too long in order to prepare for the next group when the half hour hits once again. I always approach this with an extra sense of honor and privilege that is much less due to the strict schedule and much more for the simple pageantry and elegance of it all. I can say this about all cemeteries that I've experienced, really. But this is a unique place for me.

The church has its own cemetery of respectable size whose residents go all the way back to the congregation's founding. Ours is typical of most non-military cemeteries: smaller markers of faded limestone are generally relegated to the side closest to the road, overtaken more and more by larger, modern works of granite and marble. Brass stars slowly turning green from age mark where our veterans are all year, but small American flags are added just before Memorial Day and remain through Veterans Day. Familiar names that go back generations litter the landscape, inviting questions of relation to those still on the rolls. Decorations are modest, usually featuring a few floral arrangements or, in some cases, a tree or bush planted in one's honor. More recent markers are personalized with pictures of the deceased, familiar quotes, symbols of favorite hobbies, beloved civic groups, or one's faith.

I could tell you stories about our residents. As the years go by, I know more and more of them. I could tell you about the 34-year-old woman who died of lung cancer, for whom I officiated her baptism, wedding, and funeral within the same year. I could tell you about the time she shared that one of her friends at her wedding thought I was "hot". I could tell you about her then-9-year-old son who must be in his emotional 40s by now. I could tell you about the woman who lived to be almost 102, who'd fill me in on the church's history every month that I brought her communion. I could tell you about the chocolates she almost always had waiting for me when I arrived.

There are people whom I've never met that I could tell you about as well. I could tell you about the other woman, clearly one of this church's beloved saints, who lived past 100 and who stood all of four feet tall. I could tell you about the father who was never the same after his wife died and, according to those who knew him best, "gave up" shortly after. I could tell you about the young track coach who suddenly collapsed at a meet and whose funeral saw a sanctuary bursting at the seams with people reeling from his loss.

And I could tell you about the pastor. We have at least one buried in our cemetery, and his memorial identifies him so. He ministered to our church for over 25 years, a mark that no other pastor has even come close to meeting. The name is recognizable because no less than four generations of his family still attend and serve in various roles, though not in the stereotypical way one may associate with big families and small churches. He's buried right next to the church, clearly visible from both the sanctuary and office windows, almost as if he's keeping watch over whomever fills the pulpit forever after.

I think about this pastor often. I never met him, so I don't think about his life so much as what it took for him to be buried here in our cemetery.

Where you are buried is your last identifying gesture. You are forever linked to the nearest community, and even long after people's memories of you fade, that is still where the remnants of your physical self will reside. You will be visited by loved ones who will decorate, clean, stop to remember; wherever they live, they will always need to travel to that spot. Later on, that same spot may be visited by genealogy enthusiasts searching for ancestors and constructing family trees. Eventually children may hold a piece of paper up to your gravestone and rub a crayon over it, and they probably won't know you at all. Whomever comes to visit, they'll visit you right here. And in most cases, you're buried where you are because it's close to where you lived, where people knew you and valued you and could tell embarrassing stories about you. More often than not, you are buried close to home.

Except in the most tragic circumstances possible, I don't anticipate being buried in my church's cemetery. It would only be some unexpected event that would dictate my final resting place being close to this other pastor. Something would have to happen to me, or something would have to happen to Coffeewife or Coffeeson that would automatically cause me to decide that this is where I will rest when my own time comes. Barring that sort of thing happening, though, I have no idea where that plot will be secured. I don't know where life, let alone death, will take me.

I sometimes wonder where my final stop will be. I wonder if it will be a place that I've known and that knows me, where we valued each other and where people will tell embarrassing stories about me. I wonder if I'll be buried in a place that I could come to know for years or even decades, where there will be people to leave flowers for me and linger to remember who I was for a while. I wonder if it will be a church cemetery after all, where my memorial will say "Pastor" and generations of members will be able to tell children and grandchildren about me, how maybe I was a trusted friend or how I always wanted to drink the regular coffee or how I always had weird ideas about church and worship and Jesus. I wonder if I'll be known that well close to where I'm buried.

I wonder if I'll have grown roots before I'm in the ground.

Summer Activity Meme

2011-07-08T10:10:00.004-04:00

It's been a while since I did a meme, so why not:

Share five things that are happening in your life, personally or professionally or some of each, in this season of life.

1. Vacation brain. I just spent a week in Florida, and I don't feel like I've re-adjusted to being back yet. It's also July, so there isn't a ton of stuff happening around the church at the moment at least in terms of activities. I'm just in "summer mode" like everybody else.

2. Spiritual direction. I'm continuing to anticipate the beginning of my spiritual direction program, which will begin either later this summer or in the fall with experiencing Ignatius' Spiritual Exercises. I'm still waiting to hear from the program director about finding a spiritual director to guide me through this.

3. Coffeewife's graduation. She will earn a Nurse Practitioner degree in mid-August, and both of us are ready for that in multiple ways. I'm incredibly proud of her and happy for her, but I'm also looking forward to our household not being on a school schedule any more. My SD program will come nowhere close to what she's had to do, and honestly I don't think I'm interested in pursuing a program as intensive as hers any more. I was once, but not now.

4. Congregational health. Not in the "dysfunctional church" sense, but in the sense that a lot of members are dealing with health concerns right now, mostly age-related. Honestly, it's caused me to think a lot about what's down the road for us as a church, a question that has no answer yet.

5. Landscaping. Due to both our careers and Coffeewife's schoolwork, we haven't done a lot that we'd like to be doing with our yard other than me mowing the lawn. It's an eyesore, and I'm embarrassed by it. But we've been doing more to shape things up the past few weeks, and it's gradually looking better. This'll hopefully be the only summer where we fall behind the way that we have.

Slow to Emerge

2011-07-05T06:17:00.008-04:00

It's worth noting before you delve in that 1) this is really long, so make sure your coffee is topped off, and 2) all book quotes are from their hardcover versions, just in case you look for it in a paperback and things don't quite line up.

In a recent Pop Culture Roundup, I reported on finishing Brian McLaren's A New Kind of Christianity. In that review, I said this:

If you're already familiar with McLaren, nothing will be tremendously new here. Also, if you're familiar with 200+ years of modern Biblical scholarship and theological traditions besides fundamentalism and neo-Calvinism, nothing will be tremendously new. I understand that McLaren is writing to an audience within Evangelicalism disillusioned with the same old, same old, but emerging/emergent really are behind the curve theologically.

On Twitter, somebody picked up on the comment about being behind the curve, and I ended up getting in a whole discussion about what that meant. Of course, that discussion was limited to 140-character bursts and seemed highly inadequate to my explaining myself, so I hope to offer a more in-depth explanation here.

First, Heaping Praise and Appreciation

Before I even get started, however, I think that I need to offer some clarifications and caveats right off the bat, since this is the type of post that may get passed around Facebook and wherever else and people will debate and in some cases grossly misunderstand what I'm saying. So allow me a few paragraphs to set things up.

My first brush with the emerging/emergent church was the summer after I graduated college, when I read McLaren's A New Kind of Christian. I didn't know that that was the movement it was a part of back then; the book just caught my eye. This is considered by many to be one of McLaren's foundational books, in which he tells a story of a pastor named Dan who meets a new spiritual companion in Neo (not to be confused with the Keanu Reeves movie character) who helps introduce him to new ways of thinking about God, Jesus, the Bible, the church, and so on. There's a lot of discussion about postmodernism, deconstructing traditional views that no longer work, and revisiting theological concepts in order to relate them to this new cultural moment, sometimes simply by re-reading the scripture texts in which they're based and discovering things about them that have been glossed over or ignored previously.

A passage from this book that has always stuck with me, and that I've paraphrased several times in my ministry, is one during which Don and Neo discuss Jesus and the kingdom of God:

My tone was intentionally calming: "OK then, how would you define the gospel?"

Neo said that it couldn't be reduced to a little formula, other than the one Jesus used, which was "The Kingdom of God is at hand," and he didn't recommend using that exact language today. I asked why not.

"Dan, everything is contextual. No meanings can exist without context. Language only works in a context, since words mean different things at different times. In Jesus' day, the biggest issue was that the Jewish people were subordinated to the Roman Empire. This was agonizing for them: How could good people who truly believed in the One True God be under the heel of bad people who believed in a pathetic pantheon of little false dieties? Jesus' use of the expression 'kingdom of God' in that context is so dynamic and full of meaning that even though I see only a little sliver of it, I can hardly put it into words." (p. 106)

Later in the chapter, Neo makes some comments that I've always loved suggesting that if Jesus had been born in a different time and place, he'd have used a different term for the same concept according to context. And the larger concept of Jesus' overall message being about the kingdom of God rather than anything solely about himself was helpful, if not familiar to me. And why was it familiar? Because at that time I'd just completed a four-year Religion degree that featured discussion about the historical Jesus and Biblical criticism that had featured extensive discussion about the same topic, including the hosting of Dr. Stephen Patterson, then professor of New Testament at Eden Theological Seminary and fellow of the Jesus Seminar, who'd been making it a point to analyze and re-emphasize Jesus' proclamation of the kingdom of God. Dr. Patterson's book The God of Jesus, which further expounds upon this theme (particularly Jesus' kingdom message), was an eye-opening book for me during those years.

So by the time I read McLaren's book, I'd already become familiar with scholarship that had in some form been around at least since the days of Albert Schweitzer over a century ago. This didn't minimize or render pointless McLaren's point; it just helped supplement and even put into popular terms what I'd already studied.

I've gotten ahead of myself slightly. The point is that that was my introduction to emerging/emergent, even though I didn't know it. And the views presented in McLaren's book didn't surprise me much, because I'd just spent four years hearing the same thing.

Years later, I'd just begun full-time ministry in my present call. That first year was a year of disillusionment, in the sense that whatever illusions about the church and pastoral ministry I had left after graduating seminary were finally and fully demolished in that first year. It was also during that year that I began to sense that something is wrong with the way many of us "do church," whether in terms of outdated forms or an overall complacency held over from the mainline heyday, or both.

Books by authors considered emerging or emergent helped name these issues for me. I largely couldn't articulate what was wrong until reading books like Gibbs and Bolger's Emerging Churches, Mark Driscoll's Confessions of Reformission Rev, and Doug Pagitt's Church Re-Imagined, among others. These books offered images of church life that engage culture in new ways by reading this contextual moment, which includes the decline of Christendom and the assumptions that come with it. I found this stuff edifying, helpful, exciting, and refreshing, and I decided that I wanted to be a part of it.

So this is all to say that I have a great appreciation for the emerging/emergent movement, and its effect on my ministry. In fact, I consider myself one of those hyphenated types, UCCmergent. And look, I don't even need the hyphen.

So. Can we move on? You good? Okay. Because what comes next is going to include some criticism. I'm just sayin'.

First Component: Church Stuff

From where I'm sitting, there are basically two components to the emerging/emergent movement. They're interrelated, but depending on who you read he or she will likely focus on one or the other.

The first component is all about ecclesiology. That is, how to do and be the church: structure, emphasis, outreach, community-building, disciple-making, and so on. This strand, I think, is how emerging/emergent gained its reputation for being hipsters who hold Bible study in coffeeshops, hold worship in bars, sing U2 songs rather than hymns, and use movies as jumping-off points for preaching as much as scripture. It's because...well...some actually do these things. Emerging ecclesiology is largely based on reading and engaging the culture in which these churches find themselves. Since it is particularly a movement geared toward Generation X and younger (though some will push back against this point), it will reflect the culture of these generations. It embraces technology, isn't afraid of people with tattoos and/or who smoke, and often meets in places far away from white-washed sanctuaries.

This cultural engagement is one aspect of what has come to be known as being missional, as opposed to being attractional. To be attractional, the bulk of what you do involves offering programs in your church building and hoping that people just magically pull into your parking lot to attend them. Sometimes this works and sometimes it doesn't. On the other hand, being missional is going where the people are, engaging who they are and what they like, and building relationships.

The other aspect of being missional is, unsurprisingly, engaging in mission. Emerging/emergent greatly emphasizes service and, in some cases, social justice. Again, depending on who you read, you'll find writers and speakers advocating for the poor, the immigrant, the environment, Third World poverty, and for the acceptance of various minority groups. Parts of this movement have made the connection between the gospel and service; have discovered or rediscovered how much Jesus interacted with and helped the poor and marginalized, and have embraced his ministry as their own.

Okay. To you who are familiar with emerging/emergent, none of that was new information. You've read about it or have even participated in it. I acknowledge that, and apologize for the pedantic nature of the last few paragraphs. What I really wanted to do by mentioning all of this is to point you to all the mainliners and "liberal" Christians over there who also just read the last paragraph while mumbling things like, "Of course" and "Duh" and "Finally." You see, while they probably didn't invent a lot of the missional things you're doing, they've been doing it for decades and even centuries already. As one example, the Social Gospel movement, while admittedly a bit lacking in theology when it began (and still is hit-and-miss on occasion) is over a century old and was started and picked up by many mainline denominations, churches, and pastors very early on. It was a much earlier movement to link the gospel with social issues, to say nothing of movements before that that had no label applied to it. As a result, many mainline churches would welcome emerging/emergent's delving into this area in a more serious way, some while wondering why it took them so long.

In Tony Jones' book The New Christians, he tells the story of how emerging/emergent began. Essentially, a group of younger pastors, most from evangelical churches, got together to see how they could best reach people ages 18-35. What resulted was a major shift in a lot of their thinking in terms of how to do and be the church, including the realization that we're in a postmodern, post-Christendom world. One of the conclusions reached was that they/we probably need to do more than offering a few new church programs. What resulted was the beginning of the emergent movement, or conversation. After yelling "the Bible is propaganda!" (meaning to him that the Bible is meant in part to make the case for Christianity's truthfulness whether each story is factual or not) during a meal with these folks, Jones realized they're onto something new, or new to them:

These kinds of thoughts about the Bible had been burgeoning in me for years, but I didn't have people to talk to about them. And that was true for the others at the Dallas meeting as well. Brad [Cecil] was not quoting Jacques Derrida at the weekly staff meeting of Pantego Bible Church. New Zealander Andrew Jones, though financially supported by the Texas Baptist Convention, was doing off-the-map ministry with street kids and organizing 2:00 a.m. rave parties in warehouses during which eople danced their way through the biblical narrative. Chris Seay, an assumed future star in Texas evangelicalism--destined for one of the "big steeple" churches--had forsaken that promise to start small churches in inner cities. And Doug [Pagitt] had left Wooddale Church when it became clear that his theological adventures into things like "open theism" meant that he'd never be allowed to plant one of Wooddale's daughter churches.

We were, in some sense, a group of church misfits and castoffs. Surely, this was a group of competent people, convinced of their strong opinions, but many of them felt they were working without a net. They'd opted out of the systems that had nurtured them, and the relationships that would become "emergent" were the beginnings of a new way of being Christian and a new way of leading churches. (p. 45-6)

Here the other component to emerging/emergent thought comes up, but I want to hold off on that for a moment. Early in the story of emerging/emergent (that slash thing is annoying, isn't it?) these evangelical pastors part ways with the company line of their churches and denominations because, in part, they've discovered that the intellectual and political structures in which they used to operate won't allow for them to do what they feel called to do, which in part is to practice radical mission & evangelism and also to embrace theology that doesn't meet the higher-ups' approval.

Now, let's acknowledge something. In terms of technological and evangelistic innovation, evangelicals have been light years ahead of mainliners. It has taken and is taking mainline churches an incredibly long time to realize that their social dominance from decades ago is long over. This dominance included an assumed True Way of worship (traditional, with organ, hymns, and a three-point sermon), as well as an assumption that they would always have political clout in society. More recent social justice movements such as civil rights for women and African-Americans, championed by some mainline churches, seemed to reinforce this thought, at least for a time.

At the same time, these assumptions stilted innovation. Most mainline churches didn't feel the need to try new methods of worship or outreach because they didn't think they needed to. They were the mainline, after all. That thought has persisted long after their designation as "mainline" ceased to be accurate. Meanwhile, evangelicals were the ones using Powerpoint, screens, worship bands, and so on. You may not like these methods, but nevertheless they're working for people.

I bring that up to acknowledge that these emerging/emergent churches have continued that innovation. And again, that's what I've been drawn to the most. But in terms of social justice and service, I as a mainliner am already familiar with that. On the other hand, as Brian McLaren said in a recent appearance at Malone University, emergents--largely being people who have moved on from evangelical contexts--have just recently made those sorts of connections, including its eventual exploration of feminist and liberation theologies some eight or ten years after the "conversation" began. The social justice and missional components of emerging/emergent Christianity can be celebrated, even if they're late to the party.

Second Component: Theology Stuff

The second component of the emerging/emergent movement has been theological, as alluded several times already. McLaren is probably the best-known purveyor of this part of the movement through books such as A Generous Orthodoxy, A New Kind of Christianity, and his tag-team effort with Tony Campolo, Adventures in Missing the Point. In these various books, he revisits traditional Christian doctrines and concepts and wonders aloud about their credibility in light of our postmodern age. Ultimately, he recasts some of them and holds certain others in tension with his and others' experiences, which has received mixed reviews at best from those who read him. Some have simply cast him as a heretic, while many others have credited his books for their being able to remain in the faith.

Of course, as with the movement's social justice component, some of his stuff is going to sound very familiar to certain readers.

Take McLaren's book The Secret Message of Jesus. The tagline for the book is "Uncovering the truth that could change everything." Both the title and the tagline are unfortunate: they imply that McLaren has come up with something brand new that will rock Christianity to its foundations. What the book turns out to be is a treatment of Jesus' earthly life, particularly his parables and other teachings, in order to discover that, hey, Jesus talked a lot about something called the "kingdom of God:"

Imagine a busy street crowded with people. A young man has gathered a crowd in a corner of the local market. Someone shouts out, "What's your plan? What's your message?"

He responds, "Change your way of thinking. The kingdom of God is available to all. Believe this good news! The empire of God is now available to all!"

The kingdom of God, the empire of God? What could Jesus mean by this? One thing is sure: he did not mean "heaven after you die." Maybe the meaning would be clearer if we paraphrased it like this: "You're all preoccupied with the oppressive empire of Caesar and the oppressed kingdom of Israel. You're missing the point: the kingdom of God is here now, available to all! This is the reality that matters most. Believe this good news and follow me!" (p. 14)

What follows is an analysis of what that kingdom of God is about: essentially, seeking justice and living by a different set of values in our present age, and an anticipation of the fulfillment of that kingdom at some future moment, all based on a call to discipleship based on following Jesus' teachings about how to do it.

Foundation-rocking? To those who think Christianity is mostly about going to heaven after you die, yes. Brand new? Not so much. The $64,000 theological term for the concept that McLaren is exploring is "realized eschatology," popularized by Biblical scholar C.H. Dodd, and was also in some sense developed by modern liberal theologians such as Albrecht Rischel and Adolf von Harnack. In more recent times, Dr. Patterson and John Dominic Crossan, among others in the Jesus Seminar, have been proposing this view of the kingdom of God for quite some time, not to mention theologians such as Methodist Stanley Hauerwas and Anabaptist John Howard Yoder. And this is to say nothing of 2000 years' worth of individuals and movements proposing that one of the Christian's main tasks is to follow Jesus' teachings and example while waiting in hope that God will finally and fully bring a new way of existence into view. There is no "secret message" here, except maybe to those who prefer mainly to read Paul and Revelation, those who are sick of only reading or hearing about Paul and Revelation, and those who have been spiritually abused by those who mainly read Paul and Revelation, which admittedly comprise a good chunk of McLaren's intended audience. The analysis of Jesus' abundant use of kingdom language may indeed have a certain novelty to it for many, but again, such analysis precedes emergent by at least a century.

And then there's Jones. Ah, Tony Jones...over and over and over again criticizing mainline churches, pointing out their continual decline, and calling liberal theology "impotent." Consider, for instance, his critique of Marcus Borg's view of the resurrection:

Thus, since the resurrection of Jesus is his defeat of death, evil, and grief, it’s important to me that it really happened. Without a resurrected Jesus, Christianity is impotent. (Exhibit A: liberal Christianity) And I don’t mean a Jesus who was “resurrected” in the Disciples’ hearts, and in my heart. I mean a real resurrection in the space-time continuum by a physical being known as Jesus of Nazareth, as 99.99% of Christians for the last two milennia have believed.

Indeed. Liberal Christianity is impotent. Congregationalists freed the slaves on the ship Amistad and threw the Boston Tea Party, the abolitionist American Missionary Association was founded by mainliners, Antoinette Brown Blackwell was the first woman to be ordained in American Christianity by Congregationalists (she later joined those even more liberal Unitarians), not to mention again liberal participation in the rights of minorities in other ways down through the centuries. Today, as in times past, mainline denominations have been striving for diversity in their community life, both in terms of radical welcome and in terms of who can lead and be ordained. And it is a theology of love, justice, and faithfulness that led them--and still leads many--to take these stands, a theology based on the type of kingdom language and notion of discipleship that McLaren writes about. Meanwhile, as McLaren admits, the emerging/emergent movement has struggled with its mono-cultural image. So who's further along here, and who's still trying to move past limited theological views?

Here's another quote from that same article by Jones:

As often when I’m with liberal groups, Marcus Borg’s name came up early in the conversation. And, as I usually do, I took that opportunity to affirm my belief in the actual, physical, historic resurrection of Jesus, something that Borg notoriously does not do. (I wrote about my experience with Borg in my book.) Many times over the rest of the weekend, I was approached by participants on the retreat who wanted to challenge me on that — why do I think it’s so important that Jesus actually rose from the grave.

And I understand where they’re coming from, because I don’t feel the same way about the historic facticity of Adam and Eve, the Tower of Babel, Jonah living in the belly of a fish, or Job’s family and cattle being wiped out by God. So it might seem rather arbitrary that I draw the line between some accounts in the Hebrew Scriptures, which I consider mythological (but nonetheless “true”), and the New Testament accounts of Jesus’ miracles, death, and resurrection.

First off, Jones affirms some commonality with more liberal and mainline Christians in his views of the Bible, to which he alludes in that quote from his book found earlier in this post. Of course, that earlier revelation ("The Bible is propaganda") was shared in a context where it really would have been a majorly scandalous sort of statement. As he explains in the above quote, the Bible's truth can be affirmed without adhering to its facticity. And modern Biblical criticism--again, something devised by those impotent liberals--gives permission for Jones to make such a statement, to explore what it means, and to differentiate between fact and truth in scripture. So on this point once again, I and many others would say, "Welcome. You're late."

Jones and other emerging/emergent types affirm these sorts of statements and beliefs about God and scripture, but then some also have to take shots at the people who've held them and taught them for many, many years. He and others contrive ways to call liberal and mainline Christianity "impotent" while also lauding things like social justice and Biblical criticism as if the emergent movement discovered them by themselves. Mainliners and their predecessors have been shedding blood, sweat, and tears in these areas for centuries, long before a handful of disillusioned evangelicals finally caught on that Christian faith can be deeper and more diverse than what they were taught at Bible College.

(As an aside, Jones' experience with Borg that he mentions in The New Christians is a very brief treatment of Borg's view of the resurrection. Borg is one who believes in the truth of the resurrection without necessarily believing in its facticity, which Jones stops short of affirming even as he seems to take that line with many other Biblical narratives. In the book, Jones accuses Borg of having a "faith in reason" (p. 154), a view which a reading of The Heart of Christianity might cure, as in it Borg shows himself to be quite spiritual, deeply rooted in faith, and justice-oriented. Jones' decision to stop short of affirming other interpretations of the resurrection shows an inconsistency in his viewpoint. Unless the consistent point that he wants to present is that those liberals who helped develop the tools and permissions that he is now using are awful or less-than.)

If that wasn't enough, do you know how and why classical Liberal Christianity began? It was in response to the Enlightenment, where guys like Friedrich Schleiermacher, Rischel, and von Harnack realized that the truth claims of Christianity as conceived in pre-modern times could no longer be held in the forms known in that period in light of new emphases on science and reason, so they went about the task of re-casting many traditional Christian beliefs in ways that they thought made more sense in the new modern era. This should sound familiar, because it is exactly the same agenda being undertaken by emerging/emergent types in light of these new post-modern times. And to do it, some are incorporating methods and beliefs already proposed by liberal thinkers. And just as liberal Christians were and are being denounced for such an agenda, people like McLaren and Jones are as well. One would think that Jones might find more allies among liberals instead of accusing them of being impotent.

Conclusion and Awards for Reading This Far

As much as I can give credit to the emerging/emergent movement for its innovations and rethinking of ecclesiastical models, I'm tired of its theological component being presented as some awesome newfangled thing, especially when the traditions that gave birth to them or that have been touting them for so long are ignored, downplayed, or marginalized in the process. It's true, mainliners are behind the times on some things, and have been slow to realize some truths about themselves. But before that, they and their predecessors helped pave the way for some other things that emergents have been embracing only recently.

I fully acknowledge that emergent figureheads like McLaren and Jones are primarily writing and speaking to other evangelicals wondering if there can be something more to faith and church. As they do so, they've also caught the imaginations of many mainline liberal types like me, in part because we're already on board with many things being espoused by this new movement. There's much more room for partnership, respect, and acknowledgment than the pretense of theological novelty and air of ecclesiastical superiority that I and others sometimes detect from that corner of Christianity. Both "sides," as hesitant as I am to use that concept, have innovated some things, and have much to learn from each other.

Flash Communion

2011-07-04T11:58:00.001-04:00

Here are some of my colleagues from the United Church of Christ's 2030 Clergy Network engaging in a "flash eucharist" at General Synod:

Pop Culture Roundup

2011-07-01T06:17:00.009-04:00

I'm reading a book called Driftless by David Rhodes, about a tiny Wisconsin town's collection of characters as they interact with one another. As I've read, I've waited for some overarching story to emerge, yet after a while it became clear that the overarching story is the entire town: how the characters support one another, live with each other, bump into each other for better or worse in a place that hardly anyone purposely travels to except out of necessity. In that sense, the feel of the book is very much like living in such a place - those small towns where everybody knows everybody, where people try to stay afloat or are too rooted to move or are living a type of fatalism or are longing to escape. Whatever their demeanor or motivation, here they all are together, to some degree stuck with each other, with lots of little beginnings and endings weaving in and out of each other, much like life itself.

We watched The King's Speech this week, starring Colin Firth as Prince Albert, the eventual King George VI, who suffers from a stutter that makes public speaking nearly impossible. With the aid of failed actor and amateur speech pathologist Lionel, he tries to overcome this defect. The impending of WWII makes this all the more urgent, as George must give a speech to the British people to reassure them in such a troubling time. Firth is excellent as George, Geoffrey Rush equally so as friend/foil Lionel. Helena Bonham Carter is also particularly strong as George's wife Elizabeth...it's actually a bit strange yet pleasant to see her in a relatively "normal" role, as I'm so used to seeing her in Bellatrix LeStrange/Marla Singer/Tim-Burton-movie-character-type roles. It was a good film with an ending that is triumphant, yet that portrays that triumph as occurring in the midst of a struggle that will be with the lead character his whole life.

We also saw Cars 2 this week; it was Coffeeson's first movie theater experience. The movie itself finds Lightning McQueen, now one of the most successful Piston Cup race cars ever, competing in the inaugural World Grand Prix against champion cars from around the world. McQueen's top rival is Italian Indy car Francesco Bernoulli, voiced exuberantly by John Turturro. Meanwhile, Mater finds himself assisting international spy Finn McMissile (voiced by MIchael Caine...and of course he's an Aston Martin) in foiling a plot by some evil cars to sabotage the race. Eddie Izzard and Bruce Campbell were other notable new voices for me. The movie wasn't the character-driven plot of the first; instead it was a more straightforward action film that brings Mater more to the forefront. It was still fun, it just wasn't the carefully-balanced sort of story that Pixar usually produces.

The fourth season of True Blood began this past Sunday, with Sookie discovering that the fairy world to which she escaped wasn't all it was cracked up to be. When she left (escaped) that world to return home, she discovered that she'd been gone for over a year even though it'd only seemed like a moment. As a result, she discovers--and in some cases, has yet to discover--that a lot has changed. For instance, Bill is the new king of Louisiana, meaning that he's the vampire in charge of that state according to their hierarchy. Also, Lafayette is just beginning to discover his mystical side thanks to his witch boyfriend, Tara has begun a whole new life elsewhere, and Jason is a full-fledged police officer now. All this episode really did was set up where the characters are as the season starts. the people with whom I watched were disappointed with the lack of action, but I understood that it merely told us what everyone is up to. And the "one year later" aspect of it was a nice touch, I thought...it helped to distance the characters from the happenings of the last season and hit "reset" on some things.

Brant Hansen, formerly of Letters from Kamp Krusty and more recently of Brant's Blog, has resigned from his current radio position. Hopefully he starts a new blog after he lands in his new position.

CM Punk is probably one of my current favorites in WWE. He gave a promo this past Monday on RAW that reinforced that for me:

Vintage POC: I Want to Preach at General Synod

2011-06-29T06:15:00.001-04:00

Beginning Friday is the 28th General Synod of the United Church of Christ. I won't be attending, but thought I'd revisit this post from March 2008.

I want to preach at General Synod.

I preach almost every week, so you know I’ve had a lot of practice.

No, seriously. You should see it. I’ve got a couple shelves of commentaries that I pull out every week, and I study. I turn the text inside out, pull it apart, piece it back together and make new shapes out of it. I ponder the richness of its meaning for a new day and age where people are interested in the new day and age. I relate it. I’m very good at relating. You could say that I’m relatable. I’m a relatable preacher. I take a text and relate it because people like relatability. You should see the amount of relating that I do. This isn’t some dusty, overly poetic stuff…I’m gritty. A gritty kind of relatable. Unless you don’t like gritty. Do you like gritty? Or do you like poetic more? I can do poetic. But rest assured, it’s a relatable poetic.

So let me preach at General Synod. I preach almost every week, so you know I’ve had a lot of practice.

Maybe you’re looking for something more prophetic, something to really bring the masses to their feet in passionate angry appreciation. Maybe you want something that’ll inspire protests and demonstrations and strongly-worded letters and righteous indignation, but most of all something that’ll look good on a DVD.

I’m righteous. I’m indignant. I’d look good on a DVD. Just you watch. I’ll righteously, indignantly cut down the evil empires of our day and age (not someone else’s day and age, mind you, but OUR day and age, the NEW day and age). I’ll cut them down with God’s righteous anger, which happens to be my righteous anger, too. And it’ll be a relatable, poetic and/or gritty righteous anger for our new day and age and not some old has-been day and age.

Go ahead and let me preach at General Synod. I preach almost every week, so you know I’ve had lots and lots of practice.

I know what it is…you want someone who’s well-known. You want someone with a book deal, who speaks at conventions, who has honorary degrees and serves on National or International Councils of Justice and Truth. Well, it just so happens that once had a magazine article published. Yeah, really, I did. With ink. And on shiny paper. I spoke at an 8th-grade assembly once, and one other time I gave a talk to a senior citizens’ group. I serve on a local board that oversees a food pantry. I walk in the Relay for Life. I don’t have an honorary degree, but I have three that I studied for. Plus I’m sure any day now somebody will give me one. It’s just a matter of time. They’ll read my magazine article or watch me walking around that track and be all like, “Hey! That’s our guy!” I’m sure that’s all it’ll take.

Let me preach at General Synod. You know you want to. I preach almost every week and to our day and age, not to some crusty old day and age with horse-drawn wagons and outdoor toilets. You know I’ve had lots of practice.

I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy. Maybe that’ll help. I can have my guy with the phone number for the next guy CALL the next guy, who will in turn look up his number for the next next guy, who subsequently of course will call the aforementioned guy and say, “This guy I know, who knows this other guy, knows this other guy who knows a guy who wants to preach at Synod. He’ll preach to our day and age and get people to write strongly-worded letters and has a magazine article and any day now will have an honorary degree. Okay then, I’ll let him know he’s in!” And that’s all it’ll take because when they hear that I’ll preach to our day and age and not some musty day and age with wooden ships and the Plague, I know they’ll give me a shot.

So get me on the freaking schedule for General Synod, because I preach almost every week and sometimes twice if it’s Christmas Eve, so I’ve had tons and tons of practice.

Okay, fine. They won’t give me a stupid honorary degree. Not many people have really seen my magazine article, but the few that did gave me some very nice compliments. I know a guy…hell, I know a lot of guys. Some of them come to my Bible studies, one plows the parking lot, and another one watches wrestling with me. They know some guys who in turn know some guys, but really all we do is keep up with each others’ lives and sometimes pray and sometimes just talk and laugh.

I don't proclaim justice from the rooftops that often, but I’ve had some honest one-on-one conversations. I’ve never really gotten that righteously indignant, but I’ve hounded people to give more time and energy to Habitat and food delivery and cancer treatment and mental health awareness. I don't run an orphanage or anything like that, but I help people in need when I meet them.

I’ve never even received a standing ovation, not even at that 8th-grade assembly. But some people think that I have a gift. Some have said that through tears of sadness or laughter because something I said actually connected. It doesn’t happen every week or every month. But every once in a while I say the right thing.

You don’t have to let me preach at General Synod. But you have to understand that I’ve had lots of practice with relationships and people’s struggles with health, faith, life, and death, people who’ve been treated to the joy and the disappointment of this day and age. I talk to them a lot, and I often preach to them…almost every Sunday, in fact.

Almost every Sunday, but really almost every day of the week.

So you know I’ve had lots of practice.

"Biblical Christianity"

2011-06-27T06:19:00.001-04:00

HT to Rachel Held Evans.

Pop Culture Roundup

2011-06-24T06:11:00.002-04:00

No books begun yet. No movies and no TV worth mentioning. But it's been a decent week musically, so here are a few songs via Youtube.

First, I downloaded Adele's album 21 this week, which is very good. Here's the song you probably already know, "Rolling in the Deep:"

Weird Al Yankovic's new album Alpocolypse dropped this week. I've heard the whole thing but haven't purchased anything. He does make fun of songs by Miley Cyrus and Taylor Swift, among others. Here's his parody of Lady Gaga's "Born This Way," entitled "Perform this Way."

Finally, I stumbled across an artist named Chilly Gonzales this week, who has a rap album called The Unspeakable Chilly Gonzales where the backing tracks are all orchestral. Here's the first track, "Supervillian Music:"

The Next Thing

2011-06-22T06:17:00.001-04:00

For the past couple of years, I've been wondering about The Next Thing. By that, I mean that, once Coffeewife graduates from her latest program, what would I do? Once it would be "my turn," so to speak, what sort of education- or career-related change or additional thing would I want to pursue?

As I considered my options, there were a wide variety of possibilities. These included another Masters or even a Doctor of Ministry degree, training in spiritual direction or further Clinical Pastoral Education, or becoming more involved in some justice issue or organization. I thought about all of these for many months, and none of them really stood out to me. In a way, I wanted to do them all, which also meant that I wasn't really committed to doing any of them. So I waited and I prayed and I considered and I weighed pros and cons, and after a while I started think that maybe none of these are really something I want to do right now. After all, who says that I have to take on something when Coffeewife is finished?

But then, at some point as I considered that, the notion of spiritual direction began to rise above the others.

I've taken an increased interest in spiritual practices since my seminary days, during which I was exposed to a wide variety of them. At our opening retreat I walked the labyrinth for the first time and have treasured it as a practice ever since. That first semester, I took a class on spiritual practices and had an opportunity to experience many including Lectio Divina, the Examen, prayer postures, the labyrinth again, and others. My second year I participated in a spirituality group called the Healing Circle, which again exposed me to a wide variety of practices. This is to say nothing of other experiences in both college and seminary including a wide range of worship practices, taking on a 40-hour fast, special practices and abstentions during Lent, occasionally attending a Reform synagogue on Friday evenings, Taize worship, and others. All of these contributed to my appreciation for the breadth of spiritual practices that are available, and an ever-increasing desire for people to experience them; for people to know that there can be so many possibilities for cultivating an awareness of divine presence besides the singular tradition with which many have been familiar for their entire lives.

Becoming certified as a spiritual director seemed to me to be one way to make this desire a reality. For the uninitiated, a spiritual director is one who is trained in a spiritual tradition in order to guide others in discovering God's presence in their daily lives, usually in encouraging people to practice the disciplines in which the SD is trained, but also by asking questions about where and how one has experienced God since the last meeting. One could argue that I already do this as a pastor, but this is a more specialized and intentional way of doing that that includes training in a discipline and more regular meetings than most pastors and parishioners have together, among other differences.

Anyway, I filled out an application the other month, had an interview, and have been accepted into the spiritual direction program at the Ignatian Spirituality Institute at John Carroll University in Cleveland. This program trains people in the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius of Loyola. It's a two-year certificate program featuring classwork the first year and a practicum the second. However, it was suggested to me that I wait an extra year to begin the classwork and just experience the Exercises with a spiritual director in the meantime, which every student would have to do in addition to classwork anyway.

I actually liked this suggestion. I think that I'd like to take an extra year and not have these activities on top of each other. To be honest, part of the appeal of this program was its minimal schedule as it relates to how much time it might take away from family and church. To take this extra year and spread out the requirements would, I think, make the schedule more manageable for the Coffeehousehold. I've discovered that I actually don't want to do a full-out academic program such as a Masters or D.Min; I have no desire for that lifestyle at this point in my life. So going through this program at a more leisurely pace is fine with me.

And, of course, at the same time it's my Next Thing. I don't know that I'll even desire any other Next Things after this Thing, at least in terms of formalized study. But wondering about that doesn't even matter right now.