from a few weeks ago...
Well, a wonderful day came out of messed up circumstances. Because of Melissa’s fall Saturday evening, the doctor said to keep an eye on her. No need to worry that it’s anything serious, let’s just wait and see.
I had planned on taking the boys with me to Lexington, to do some visitation. But with Melissa at home , maybe dizzy, I decided to stay here and do some work from home. But then, Melissa was feeling a lot better overall. So I asked her if she felt up to coming on the visits with me. She said she’d see, and anyway, if she couldn’t, we could cut it short.
We went to visit some of the Congo families, with an eye to letting John and Joe play with them. That worked out really well, to see that boys are boys everywhere, and language barrier is no barrier to play. And then, Melissa got to meet some people who have been serious prayer warriors for her. It was huge for everyone—the Congo kids bonded more closely with my boys than they could at church. And Melissa and a Congolese woman got to meet and find they have much in common, forming a friendship that will be important to both. The boys did not want to leave when Melissa said she thought she was really running down.
Haven’t we been praying that we would be preachers together? God is so good.
Monday, January 29, 2007
Geography of Love
Joe got a talking globe for Christmas from my parents. It tells you the country, continent, states, population, highest points, etc. He calls it a "glove" (long "o," and y'all have no idea how much restraint it takes for me to not go off on phonics and the rules of English...)
He has really messed with it a lot, more than we know. Because you'd be amazed at what he can find on it. He knows the two Congos-- he wanted to know them first because, "because that's where my friend Malippo is from..."
Now he'll say, "Daddy I love you all the way to Florida. Is that far?" "Daddy, I love you all the way to Turkey." or "all the way to Russia." or "all the way to Gulf of Mexico."
He has really messed with it a lot, more than we know. Because you'd be amazed at what he can find on it. He knows the two Congos-- he wanted to know them first because, "because that's where my friend Malippo is from..."
Now he'll say, "Daddy I love you all the way to Florida. Is that far?" "Daddy, I love you all the way to Turkey." or "all the way to Russia." or "all the way to Gulf of Mexico."
Not Sure What to Title It
This long illness and recovery of Melissa’s is just that—long. You get it in your head that there will be this benchmark or milestone. And to be sure there are some. But then there are setbacks, or milestones you reach without knowing you reached them. Melissa did really well in terms of the treatment. But then came the fall and going back into the hospital, and then two months of infection and now spleen removal, and even tho she gets past all of those things, it feels like it slows her down, and when do you get to the place where all the little and the big things are cranking like they should?
Melissa is very tired lately, most likely because of the combination of seizure medicines that have had their dosages upped. The long haul from being hospitalized in August, infection that ran through November and splenectomy has taken it’s toll. Remember her in prayer.
And permit me some stream of consciousness Psalmifying. Psalm 39 looms large these past few days. “I said, ‘I will watch my ways and keep my tongue from sin…’ but when I was silent and still, not even saying anything good, my anguish increased” (Ps 39:1-2).
This is one of those places in the Bible that reminds you that all the good intentions will get you nowhere unless they are united to faith in God. Faith for forgiveness of sins, faith for holiness. It’s all by faith in God’s ability to change our hearts. It has never relied on resolution.
Well, I was thinking about that, and what does it have to do with where we are? It got me to thinking about how much everything has to do with faith. The times I have cried or been burdened to the point of sorrow have come when faith flags. Not that it’s not natural to feel those things—it’s more that in me they tend towards pessimism, thinking, “well, the gig is up.” Fear of the unknown. Fear of having no faith.
Melissa is struggling with some really bad stomach cramps. Every night we’re praying and wondering, “when? why?” And there it is, Psalm 39, about sanctification, but really about faith. God says more than you think, it seems.
Melissa is very tired lately, most likely because of the combination of seizure medicines that have had their dosages upped. The long haul from being hospitalized in August, infection that ran through November and splenectomy has taken it’s toll. Remember her in prayer.
And permit me some stream of consciousness Psalmifying. Psalm 39 looms large these past few days. “I said, ‘I will watch my ways and keep my tongue from sin…’ but when I was silent and still, not even saying anything good, my anguish increased” (Ps 39:1-2).
This is one of those places in the Bible that reminds you that all the good intentions will get you nowhere unless they are united to faith in God. Faith for forgiveness of sins, faith for holiness. It’s all by faith in God’s ability to change our hearts. It has never relied on resolution.
Well, I was thinking about that, and what does it have to do with where we are? It got me to thinking about how much everything has to do with faith. The times I have cried or been burdened to the point of sorrow have come when faith flags. Not that it’s not natural to feel those things—it’s more that in me they tend towards pessimism, thinking, “well, the gig is up.” Fear of the unknown. Fear of having no faith.
Melissa is struggling with some really bad stomach cramps. Every night we’re praying and wondering, “when? why?” And there it is, Psalm 39, about sanctification, but really about faith. God says more than you think, it seems.
Walking Around Money
A couple of good books: Christine Pohl’s Making Room, a study on hospitality in the Christian tradition, and Amy G.Oden’s And You Welcomed Me, a collection of writings from the early church on the issues of hospitality. “Hospitality” unfortunately is hampering the cause; that is once it becomes a defined field of study and God forbid there are conferences on the subject, no one will pay attention!
I came away from the books very refreshed. Oden’s book has a section on the practice of hospitality, and there’s one thing that comes out clearly, something that has long stirred me, and has special value at The Rock La Roca. Across space and time, one can summarize the early church’s view of the practice of hospitality in this simple command: “do not go to the poor empty-handed.”
Rarely have we ever thought out our response to their poor in our midst. Most often, we decide we need to do something, and then we do… something. But then we start to have all the reasonable worries: shouldn’t they get a job? Aren’t we just teaching them to be dependent? Are we enabling bad behaviors? And pretty soon we develop “policies” to define when and how we “help.” This usually involves things like stipulating an amount that we will give, how we will judge the need, what is the process for delivery, etc. I want to suggest that these policies are totally about us, about protecting us, not about actually helping.
Here’s what I mean. If you decide you won’t pay more than $50 on a gas bill, for example, what is that about? Is it really about making sure someone “doesn’t work the system?” By the time someone gets to asking for help on a bill, it is way past $50, so you’re not really helping.
Then we decide that to be responsible stewards, we need to make sure that the need is actually a worthy need. Our mania for organization takes over and we ask that the person in need come in for an interview. I am not sure what that’s about either, because it is most assuredly not to start an on-going relationship with the person in need.
We have paperwork to file before we can get the money. Again, this is to make things easier for us. I readily admit to the difficulties of cutting a check on the spot. And indeed, you have to really beware of someone asking for money “right now!” But on the other hand, many needs of the poor come up because 2 days before rent is due, they have to repair a car or by medicine. If they could just plan it so it could fit the day we cut checks…
None of these ways of handling “benevolences” fits the pattern laid down for us by the early Christians. The emperor Trajan, when he was considering persecuting Christians asked Pliny to investigate. After checking it out, Pliny wrote back and said that the Christians have a weird religion, but they’re not enemies of the state. They take care of the poor. If someone is sick, they take care of them. If someone is hungry, others will fast until there is enough to eat. The early Christians were in a word, extravagant.
If we take into account the way we generally do things as churches, we’ll see something that ought to shame us: our charity ends up as a burden. If someone owes $200 and has to go to 4 churches to get the help, has to go to 4 interviews of people determining if the need is valid (4 different churches for a single mother taking the bus—you get the picture) and then having to balance when the different checks come… not really very helpful.
Let’s get challenged by something: you are working the system. You had way more than a $200 gas bill. The Lord paid it all. He did not give you $50 worth of salvation and then tell you to try Buddha or Mohammed or help a little old lady cross the street, and maybe it would all work out! It’s called grace. You’re working the system. You said you’d repent and lead a new life, but it’s hard and the old life keeps cropping up, and you need His mercy anew! Thank God He did not say, “they’ll become dependent on me. I dare not offer them salvation! They’ll just work the system to their advantage. Why don’t they just straighten up?”
You won’t find anybody more interested in making sure someone’s life doesn’t change if the church helps them. And that’s the key—most times we don’t really care or try to see that their lives change. But that is what we are called to. What if we decided to be graceful? What if we sought to meet needs thoroughly? Now, we won’t do that most times because, well, it’s crazy talk. But it is only crazy talk if we are not willing to follow through. And it’s our long inability to follow through that keeps our charity as no charity at all.
I have long wanted to have what I call “walking around money,” that is, some funds that are available to always be ready so that if someone is in need, if I pass someone on the street, or I visit a poor house, that I won’t have to be there with some pious words and the hope that maybe things will work out. So I keep a stack of Wal-Mart gift cards with me, and if there is a need, we try to meet it as best we can.
But let’s go deep, and put forward a plan that can get us back to how we are supposed to live as God’s people. We have learned that the biggest problem facing the kids (and therefore the families) in our community is transience. That is, by November 1/3 of the students at the elementary school had not started there. What that means practically, is that the kids have to start all over each time they move. They fall behind, and if they have learning difficulties, it only gets worse. For the family, it’s not much better: they fall behind each time they move, too, in terms of money and reputation among people who might rent homes. The school principal says that if kids can stay in the school for three years, they can overcome most learning difficulties or being behind.
So, how do we address something like this? We came up with an idea, a Methodist idea, an early church idea: what if we meet the needs that cause people to move? That is, instead of waiting until the family is behind on rent, let’s figure out what the gap is and subsidize that gap. The practical result is that we keep the child in the school because we kept the family in the neighborhood. So. Are you willing to spend, say, $250 a month on a few families?
No, actually, most people would not be. For all the reasons we talked about above—it’s working the system, maybe they need to work harder, etc. But, those reasons were also exposed as shams because we talk ourselves out of generosity because we won’t take on the whole of the work of charity.
See, we have to be willing to go deep. That is, the Lord has blessed this already because the school has paired us with our first family, the family of a little girl I have been working with on school issues. Who knew it would be her family? And when I approached the family and said we would like to help, they were a bit shocked. Who does such a thing? They were still freaked out when I told them it’s because of Jesus ( thumbnail way of saying Luke 14 and Matthew 25…).
I also laid out that we would be asking them to be willing for me and Curtis Book (our missions pastor) to meet with them, to discuss where the money goes, how to budget, set priorities, learn life skills, and talk about new life in Jesus. Hey, if you take my rent, you gotta take my love.
The only way to actually be generous is to not give money, but rather to give the money it is going to take to get the job done, and then enter their lives in love. A little bit of money for a gas bill makes no difference. Pay more generously and enter into the real work of long-term transformation. This is why you came to Jesus. If He had forgiven only part of your sins and then left you to fend for yourself, what a mess you’d be in! But instead, He paid it all, and left you His continuing presence in the Holy Spirit and Holy Communion. He sticks with you through the hard times, not leaving when you are selfish, lazy, or ignorant. Lord, may we be willing to deal with others as you have dealt with us. Amen.
So how did all this happen? Well, it started on a small scale in Clark County. The missions person, Becky Taylor, was pretty generous with people in need. I learned a lot from that. And the need was everywhere. Pretty soon Frankie Moore and Cynthia Long were wanting to feed people. So wherever I went, I was not empty-handed, and quite simply, the Lord blesses that.
I am really just a country pastor in the heart of the town. I visit, like Wesley asked his pastors to, from house to house, to find the social needs and spiritual needs. Woe to me if I can preach the Gospel but cannot feed the hungry!! And though I don’t get to pray for sick calves or mean horses anymore, or help people load hay, it’s not that much different, the visiting from house to house. Maybe the needs are more stark, or maybe they are just more concentrated.
Somebody gave me $3,000 for my “discretionary” fund. I don’t know what all will happen with it, but I can guarantee you I will never be embarrassed again by saying I can’t help. Or won’t help.
I came away from the books very refreshed. Oden’s book has a section on the practice of hospitality, and there’s one thing that comes out clearly, something that has long stirred me, and has special value at The Rock La Roca. Across space and time, one can summarize the early church’s view of the practice of hospitality in this simple command: “do not go to the poor empty-handed.”
Rarely have we ever thought out our response to their poor in our midst. Most often, we decide we need to do something, and then we do… something. But then we start to have all the reasonable worries: shouldn’t they get a job? Aren’t we just teaching them to be dependent? Are we enabling bad behaviors? And pretty soon we develop “policies” to define when and how we “help.” This usually involves things like stipulating an amount that we will give, how we will judge the need, what is the process for delivery, etc. I want to suggest that these policies are totally about us, about protecting us, not about actually helping.
Here’s what I mean. If you decide you won’t pay more than $50 on a gas bill, for example, what is that about? Is it really about making sure someone “doesn’t work the system?” By the time someone gets to asking for help on a bill, it is way past $50, so you’re not really helping.
Then we decide that to be responsible stewards, we need to make sure that the need is actually a worthy need. Our mania for organization takes over and we ask that the person in need come in for an interview. I am not sure what that’s about either, because it is most assuredly not to start an on-going relationship with the person in need.
We have paperwork to file before we can get the money. Again, this is to make things easier for us. I readily admit to the difficulties of cutting a check on the spot. And indeed, you have to really beware of someone asking for money “right now!” But on the other hand, many needs of the poor come up because 2 days before rent is due, they have to repair a car or by medicine. If they could just plan it so it could fit the day we cut checks…
None of these ways of handling “benevolences” fits the pattern laid down for us by the early Christians. The emperor Trajan, when he was considering persecuting Christians asked Pliny to investigate. After checking it out, Pliny wrote back and said that the Christians have a weird religion, but they’re not enemies of the state. They take care of the poor. If someone is sick, they take care of them. If someone is hungry, others will fast until there is enough to eat. The early Christians were in a word, extravagant.
If we take into account the way we generally do things as churches, we’ll see something that ought to shame us: our charity ends up as a burden. If someone owes $200 and has to go to 4 churches to get the help, has to go to 4 interviews of people determining if the need is valid (4 different churches for a single mother taking the bus—you get the picture) and then having to balance when the different checks come… not really very helpful.
Let’s get challenged by something: you are working the system. You had way more than a $200 gas bill. The Lord paid it all. He did not give you $50 worth of salvation and then tell you to try Buddha or Mohammed or help a little old lady cross the street, and maybe it would all work out! It’s called grace. You’re working the system. You said you’d repent and lead a new life, but it’s hard and the old life keeps cropping up, and you need His mercy anew! Thank God He did not say, “they’ll become dependent on me. I dare not offer them salvation! They’ll just work the system to their advantage. Why don’t they just straighten up?”
You won’t find anybody more interested in making sure someone’s life doesn’t change if the church helps them. And that’s the key—most times we don’t really care or try to see that their lives change. But that is what we are called to. What if we decided to be graceful? What if we sought to meet needs thoroughly? Now, we won’t do that most times because, well, it’s crazy talk. But it is only crazy talk if we are not willing to follow through. And it’s our long inability to follow through that keeps our charity as no charity at all.
I have long wanted to have what I call “walking around money,” that is, some funds that are available to always be ready so that if someone is in need, if I pass someone on the street, or I visit a poor house, that I won’t have to be there with some pious words and the hope that maybe things will work out. So I keep a stack of Wal-Mart gift cards with me, and if there is a need, we try to meet it as best we can.
But let’s go deep, and put forward a plan that can get us back to how we are supposed to live as God’s people. We have learned that the biggest problem facing the kids (and therefore the families) in our community is transience. That is, by November 1/3 of the students at the elementary school had not started there. What that means practically, is that the kids have to start all over each time they move. They fall behind, and if they have learning difficulties, it only gets worse. For the family, it’s not much better: they fall behind each time they move, too, in terms of money and reputation among people who might rent homes. The school principal says that if kids can stay in the school for three years, they can overcome most learning difficulties or being behind.
So, how do we address something like this? We came up with an idea, a Methodist idea, an early church idea: what if we meet the needs that cause people to move? That is, instead of waiting until the family is behind on rent, let’s figure out what the gap is and subsidize that gap. The practical result is that we keep the child in the school because we kept the family in the neighborhood. So. Are you willing to spend, say, $250 a month on a few families?
No, actually, most people would not be. For all the reasons we talked about above—it’s working the system, maybe they need to work harder, etc. But, those reasons were also exposed as shams because we talk ourselves out of generosity because we won’t take on the whole of the work of charity.
See, we have to be willing to go deep. That is, the Lord has blessed this already because the school has paired us with our first family, the family of a little girl I have been working with on school issues. Who knew it would be her family? And when I approached the family and said we would like to help, they were a bit shocked. Who does such a thing? They were still freaked out when I told them it’s because of Jesus ( thumbnail way of saying Luke 14 and Matthew 25…).
I also laid out that we would be asking them to be willing for me and Curtis Book (our missions pastor) to meet with them, to discuss where the money goes, how to budget, set priorities, learn life skills, and talk about new life in Jesus. Hey, if you take my rent, you gotta take my love.
The only way to actually be generous is to not give money, but rather to give the money it is going to take to get the job done, and then enter their lives in love. A little bit of money for a gas bill makes no difference. Pay more generously and enter into the real work of long-term transformation. This is why you came to Jesus. If He had forgiven only part of your sins and then left you to fend for yourself, what a mess you’d be in! But instead, He paid it all, and left you His continuing presence in the Holy Spirit and Holy Communion. He sticks with you through the hard times, not leaving when you are selfish, lazy, or ignorant. Lord, may we be willing to deal with others as you have dealt with us. Amen.
So how did all this happen? Well, it started on a small scale in Clark County. The missions person, Becky Taylor, was pretty generous with people in need. I learned a lot from that. And the need was everywhere. Pretty soon Frankie Moore and Cynthia Long were wanting to feed people. So wherever I went, I was not empty-handed, and quite simply, the Lord blesses that.
I am really just a country pastor in the heart of the town. I visit, like Wesley asked his pastors to, from house to house, to find the social needs and spiritual needs. Woe to me if I can preach the Gospel but cannot feed the hungry!! And though I don’t get to pray for sick calves or mean horses anymore, or help people load hay, it’s not that much different, the visiting from house to house. Maybe the needs are more stark, or maybe they are just more concentrated.
Somebody gave me $3,000 for my “discretionary” fund. I don’t know what all will happen with it, but I can guarantee you I will never be embarrassed again by saying I can’t help. Or won’t help.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Riders on the Storm
Saturday was a such a good day. We hung out with the boys, went to see Charlotte's Web, had a good dinner together-- all seemed as right with the world as it can be in our situation. I stepped into Kroger to pick up something quick. When I came back out, I saw that Melissa was laying on the floor of the van, stuck between the seats. I thought maybe she had had a seizure, but she said she didn't think so, and she was not in the usual fog after one. I was mad, sad, worried all at once-- there were the boys in their car seats, unable to do anything. To add insult to injury, John said he didn't think it was a seizure; I had always hoped he would never have to deal with that. His great strength was his weakness: he is my helper in so many ways, and he could not do anything to help his mommy. Joe said, "I hollered for you, Daddy. Did you hear me?"
Luckily, in spite of being worried, John got back to his normal self. By bedtime he was talking about protecting Joe from bad guys. John has definitely made things easier for Joe. Every transition that the boys make is harder for them, given Melissa's illness. But John keeps a stiff upper lip for Joe, holding his hand or putting his arm around him. And so Joseph becomes something of a spokesman; he hollered for me while John worried what to do. Most times, Joe will step forward to speak on their behalf. I guess they're like Moses and Aaron.
I spent some time talking to the boys about how to help Melissa if she has a seizure. Ack, what a discussion. I wonder why I forget sometimes with the boys what I try to live with-- being up front and honest about situations? I thought the boys would be wigged out by talking about it, but they were glad to know what to do. Joe said, "And I'll pray."
We also spent some time on perspective. That is, Melissa's cancer is gone, hopefully to stay. So if she has seizures, that's a lot better. We'll pray and trust those will be gone, too.
In the midst of all this, we still find so much joy in the Lord. I visited the Itoula family a few days ago, discussing the problem of their children still in the refugee camp in Gabon. I read them Psalm 126, the Psalm we rejoice in so much. We prayed about getting ready to sing this Psalm when their children come: "When the Lord brough back the captives to Zion, we were like men who dreamed! Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy."
Luckily, in spite of being worried, John got back to his normal self. By bedtime he was talking about protecting Joe from bad guys. John has definitely made things easier for Joe. Every transition that the boys make is harder for them, given Melissa's illness. But John keeps a stiff upper lip for Joe, holding his hand or putting his arm around him. And so Joseph becomes something of a spokesman; he hollered for me while John worried what to do. Most times, Joe will step forward to speak on their behalf. I guess they're like Moses and Aaron.
I spent some time talking to the boys about how to help Melissa if she has a seizure. Ack, what a discussion. I wonder why I forget sometimes with the boys what I try to live with-- being up front and honest about situations? I thought the boys would be wigged out by talking about it, but they were glad to know what to do. Joe said, "And I'll pray."
We also spent some time on perspective. That is, Melissa's cancer is gone, hopefully to stay. So if she has seizures, that's a lot better. We'll pray and trust those will be gone, too.
In the midst of all this, we still find so much joy in the Lord. I visited the Itoula family a few days ago, discussing the problem of their children still in the refugee camp in Gabon. I read them Psalm 126, the Psalm we rejoice in so much. We prayed about getting ready to sing this Psalm when their children come: "When the Lord brough back the captives to Zion, we were like men who dreamed! Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy."
Monday, January 08, 2007
Martha, Barbaro and Shipwreck
Melissa’s surgery went well. The doctor said the spleen just about jumped out. We won’t know for a few weeks if it works. That’s average. But it may be apparent even more quickly. But for right now, we’re happy that it went well, and she did not need any blood. She had a lot of pain after the surgery, and was not able to move much, but in a few hours, she picked up.
She was really peaceful about it all. I guess given everything else, this is small stuff. She said beforehand that lately with God and her it’s been all about trust. So she wasn’t worried.
When Melissa went in for the first chemo in 2005, it was when Martha Stewart was getting out of jail. There were news stories, and everyone was talking about Martha, feeling sorry for Martha. I was not too sympathetic; if I had done what Martha did, the cavity search would still be going on. Melissa was really mad, tho. She said that Martha did something wrong and was getting out of jail, and there Melissa was, having committed no crime and starting a two-year sentence (that’s what she called her chemo regimen… little did we know!)
Then came Barbaro back in the Spring. That was crazy. A horse was treated better than most humans, but again, there’s Melissa being irradiated. The cynic inside her said our lives must be really shallow if we get so worked up about a horse. And it only makes it worse if you say it’s because there’s so much money involved… It’s one of those moments where you laugh at how things don’t change. Wesley wrote a great essay more than 200 years ago, I think it’s called “On the Present Scarcity of Provisions.” Basically, he was decrying the idea that there are too many people to feed when the best land in England goes first to horses for racing then to grain for whiskey. Wake up, Kentucky!
And now it’s that dude who had to get rescued because he was trying to sail around the world and his boat sank. I am glad they rescued the guy, but at some point you have to wonder how come no one ever says to themselves, “I need an extreme rush! I need to face down danger and possible death! I want to do something that will demand focus and endurance! Even if I can’t get leukemia, can I at least take 105 minutes of radiation and chemo that can cause secondary cancers? Hoo-ah!” Somehow it’s cool to have to call everybody in to get you off a mountain, out of the sea, or cut off your own arm because you had to have that rush. This has been a two-year rush, but where are all those pansies?
You see why I like Cake’s song, “The Distance,” so much:
No trophies, no flashbulbs, no flowers, no wine
He wrestles with something he cannot define
Bowel-shaking earthquakes of doubt and remorse
Assail him and impale him with monster-truck force
She was really peaceful about it all. I guess given everything else, this is small stuff. She said beforehand that lately with God and her it’s been all about trust. So she wasn’t worried.
When Melissa went in for the first chemo in 2005, it was when Martha Stewart was getting out of jail. There were news stories, and everyone was talking about Martha, feeling sorry for Martha. I was not too sympathetic; if I had done what Martha did, the cavity search would still be going on. Melissa was really mad, tho. She said that Martha did something wrong and was getting out of jail, and there Melissa was, having committed no crime and starting a two-year sentence (that’s what she called her chemo regimen… little did we know!)
Then came Barbaro back in the Spring. That was crazy. A horse was treated better than most humans, but again, there’s Melissa being irradiated. The cynic inside her said our lives must be really shallow if we get so worked up about a horse. And it only makes it worse if you say it’s because there’s so much money involved… It’s one of those moments where you laugh at how things don’t change. Wesley wrote a great essay more than 200 years ago, I think it’s called “On the Present Scarcity of Provisions.” Basically, he was decrying the idea that there are too many people to feed when the best land in England goes first to horses for racing then to grain for whiskey. Wake up, Kentucky!
And now it’s that dude who had to get rescued because he was trying to sail around the world and his boat sank. I am glad they rescued the guy, but at some point you have to wonder how come no one ever says to themselves, “I need an extreme rush! I need to face down danger and possible death! I want to do something that will demand focus and endurance! Even if I can’t get leukemia, can I at least take 105 minutes of radiation and chemo that can cause secondary cancers? Hoo-ah!” Somehow it’s cool to have to call everybody in to get you off a mountain, out of the sea, or cut off your own arm because you had to have that rush. This has been a two-year rush, but where are all those pansies?
You see why I like Cake’s song, “The Distance,” so much:
No trophies, no flashbulbs, no flowers, no wine
He wrestles with something he cannot define
Bowel-shaking earthquakes of doubt and remorse
Assail him and impale him with monster-truck force
A Child's Prayer
Wow, there are just so many layers to prayer. Firday night I told Joe that Courtnay didn't feel good. Courtnay works at the church and is a favorite of the boys, altho she has for the moment been supplanted in their affections by Allison Krauss. Anyhoo, Joe stops to pray and says, "Heavenly Father, Courtnay doesn't feel good. Amen." I was immediately struck by his simple statement. He didn't ask God to do anything. He just stated the facts. A child knows something is up, but doesn't always know the answer. Joe does this in lots of areas. "I'm hot" or "I'm hungry," and then we do what seems best. BUt isn't it funny-- there's always that moment of frustration where you say, "what do you want to eat?" or "why don't you take off your coat." But what profound faith to say to God, "Courtnay's sick" and trust Him to know what's best.
Father, my children are burdened with me and my grown-up ways. Amen.
Father, my children are burdened with me and my grown-up ways. Amen.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Prayer and Preaching
There is a great and mystical connection between prayer and preaching. I learned at First Church that once we started having times of intercessory prayer during the services that the worship became more powerful—music, preaching, the feel of the service, because God’s people were praying, and people knew there was always a team back there praying. But it goes deeper than that. It reaches down into the life of the people from the lives of the worshipping congregation in heaven. And it does more than impact preaching. But preaching is on my mind right now.
When the angel Gabriel announces to the priest Zechariah that he will have a son, John (to be called the Baptist, although he sure seems like a Methodist to me…), it comes at the time of prayer, the time of burning incense (Luke 1:8-10). So, the proclamation of the birth of the one who will lead the way for the Messiah comes at the time of prayer. The task of the preacher is much like John’s, to prepare the way by convincing people of sin and showing them the way to Jesus, so should it not come at the time of, at the cost of, prayer?
A few years back, Melissa shared something powerful with the prayer meeting at Dunaway. In Revelation 5:8, there are golden bowls of incense, which are the prayers of the saints. She shared with us that she visualizes her prayers as being in those golden bowls of incense, and how the prayers of all the saints around the world, perhaps from all eternity, are in those bowls.
I have noticed a connection between the bowls of incense and prayer in Revelation and the incense and time of prayer in Luke. That is, in Luke, the incense and prayer come at the time that announces the coming of the one who will prepare the way. The incense-as-prayers of the saints in Revelation come as the Lamb whose blood has cleansed believers of sin, is declared worthy because His blood has saved us from sin. And indeed, John the Baptist cried out, “Behold! The Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world!”
Prayer must surround the word of proclamation if it is to have any effect at all, if it is to be more than just words, however fine, however well-put together, however full of Scripture. If there is no prayer, there will be no power. And it must be more than the preacher’s own prayer and study time, which anyway if most people are honest is more study and less prayer. No, there must be thick prayer rising up to God from the many people.
When the angel Gabriel announces to the priest Zechariah that he will have a son, John (to be called the Baptist, although he sure seems like a Methodist to me…), it comes at the time of prayer, the time of burning incense (Luke 1:8-10). So, the proclamation of the birth of the one who will lead the way for the Messiah comes at the time of prayer. The task of the preacher is much like John’s, to prepare the way by convincing people of sin and showing them the way to Jesus, so should it not come at the time of, at the cost of, prayer?
A few years back, Melissa shared something powerful with the prayer meeting at Dunaway. In Revelation 5:8, there are golden bowls of incense, which are the prayers of the saints. She shared with us that she visualizes her prayers as being in those golden bowls of incense, and how the prayers of all the saints around the world, perhaps from all eternity, are in those bowls.
I have noticed a connection between the bowls of incense and prayer in Revelation and the incense and time of prayer in Luke. That is, in Luke, the incense and prayer come at the time that announces the coming of the one who will prepare the way. The incense-as-prayers of the saints in Revelation come as the Lamb whose blood has cleansed believers of sin, is declared worthy because His blood has saved us from sin. And indeed, John the Baptist cried out, “Behold! The Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world!”
Prayer must surround the word of proclamation if it is to have any effect at all, if it is to be more than just words, however fine, however well-put together, however full of Scripture. If there is no prayer, there will be no power. And it must be more than the preacher’s own prayer and study time, which anyway if most people are honest is more study and less prayer. No, there must be thick prayer rising up to God from the many people.
Orth it Up
A couple of days ago, I was discussing some plans for a service of prayer and fasting that I want to have every Wednesday during the lunch hour. I hope that it will be something that brings some peace into the day—the peace of repentance and the peace of staying close to God in fasting. And I hope that there is just some peace and quiet. Bonnie MacDonald, deacon at Christ Church, would always begin her pastoral prayers with a time of silence. I took that good advice and started, too, and someone remarked to us that it was the only time of silence they had during the week.
Anyhoo, part of my plan involves some fixed praying and also some incense, both as a pleasing aroma (part of the peace and quiet) and also to symbolize the sacrifice of prayer, ascending to God. So I pulled out my censer (I have always wanted a censer, and it was my Christmas gift to me). Rosario came in and said, “All right! Way to orth it up!” So now we have a new word, “to orth,” to make something orthodox.
Even as I write, we are “orthing it up.” When the boys were first born, they came at the times when I was working on my Board of Ordained Ministry paperwork. It’s a long process and took a lot of time and effort. I would put the babies in a bassinette next to the computer and they would nap or play while I worked. I like to think it’s why they both like my set of books on the Early Church Fathers—they were right there with them from the beginning.
Anyhoo, it has been a good day for us—playing, huge naps (all four of us!) and a good dinner at a Mexican restaurant. So now, I have some stuff to write, sermons to prepare, and the boys are in bed. They seem ok that I am here in the monitor’s glow. And I have a CD of Gregorian Chant in, low volume. John says, “can this be my lullabye?” Way to orth it up, John!
A few days ago, Joseph was singing to Melissa, “You are so beautiful to me.” I thought, why is she beautiful to him? In the end, it has nothing to do with how she looks, it has to do with who she is to him, his mommy. When does that change? When does beauty quit being about the inner quality? St. Peter said, “Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight” (1 Pet 3:3-4). Way to orth it up, Joe!
Anyhoo, part of my plan involves some fixed praying and also some incense, both as a pleasing aroma (part of the peace and quiet) and also to symbolize the sacrifice of prayer, ascending to God. So I pulled out my censer (I have always wanted a censer, and it was my Christmas gift to me). Rosario came in and said, “All right! Way to orth it up!” So now we have a new word, “to orth,” to make something orthodox.
Even as I write, we are “orthing it up.” When the boys were first born, they came at the times when I was working on my Board of Ordained Ministry paperwork. It’s a long process and took a lot of time and effort. I would put the babies in a bassinette next to the computer and they would nap or play while I worked. I like to think it’s why they both like my set of books on the Early Church Fathers—they were right there with them from the beginning.
Anyhoo, it has been a good day for us—playing, huge naps (all four of us!) and a good dinner at a Mexican restaurant. So now, I have some stuff to write, sermons to prepare, and the boys are in bed. They seem ok that I am here in the monitor’s glow. And I have a CD of Gregorian Chant in, low volume. John says, “can this be my lullabye?” Way to orth it up, John!
A few days ago, Joseph was singing to Melissa, “You are so beautiful to me.” I thought, why is she beautiful to him? In the end, it has nothing to do with how she looks, it has to do with who she is to him, his mommy. When does that change? When does beauty quit being about the inner quality? St. Peter said, “Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight” (1 Pet 3:3-4). Way to orth it up, Joe!
In Defense of Brute Force
Some years back, I started getting interested in the Japanese game, Go. Actually, my interest has come in three waves, and the first two waves died for lack of time or someone to show me how to play. The third phase of my interest came to an end about a year and a half ago. See, Go is a strategy game, but it’s not like chess. It’s a 19x19 grid, and players take turns placing a black or white pebble on the points of intersection. The goal is to surround as many of your opponents pieces as possible. There is not a set opening, as in chess, where all the pieces are on the board. The game has almost infinite variety. So much so, in fact, that a computer can’t play it and win, whereas in chess, a computer can now beat the greatest players because it can predict all the possible moves.
Chess is a game of force, whereas Go is a game of patience. Maybe that’s not the right word. You take possession of property in Go by surrounding an opponent’s pieces, and the patterns that develop from that are beautiful. You take control in chess by bluntly forcing the opponent off the board, by bringing more force to bear than your opponent has.
I confess, I was interested in Go because of its elegance. I like chess a lot, but Go had some hold on my imagination. I also used to like bonsai. I always wanted to have a cedar or pine bonsai that I could make to look like the memories of my childhood on the beaches of California’s Central Coast—windswept and battered, but the tree endured, flourished, even, in spite of circumstances.
But my interest in Go ended because my interest in bonsai ended, and my interest in bonsai ended in George Strunk’s office. See, he has a bonsai plant there, in its nice little enameled trough. But it is totally dead. All its needles may be gone by this point. I asked him about it, and his answer was a real wake-up call. He said he just could not get into bonsai, could not bring himself to accede to the very idea of bonsai. He went on to say that he thought it was unnatural, to keep something from growing, to prune it, to take it out of its pot and prune its roots to keep it small, to keep it from growing. “It’s not the Kingdom,” he said.
Sometimes you need someone else to shake you out of complacency. You think you know something, you think you’re sold out to something. In my case, I like to think I am sold out to the growth of the Kingdom, the agricultural metaphors of Jesus. And yet there was a double-mind of interest in bonsai.
I know that sounds melodramatic, but I think that what was behind what George was saying was you have to believe. I don’t mean just lip-service, or think it’s a cool idea. But there is more to it than even working hard at it.
So there I was. I let go of bonsai, and Go, too. Because around the time that I heard George’s parable, I was also reading Victor Hanson’s Carnage and Culture, a book everyone should read. Hanson discusses the Western way of war in contrast to non-Western ways. He says what makes the Western way more effective is that it is finally amoral and not ritualized. That is to say, it is not so much interested in how as in what. There is a goal that is independent of the means to the extent that the Western way adopts and adapts to accomplish the ends of war as opposed to the forms.
This is what I mean by the title of this blog entry—in defense of brute force I mean we have to let go of notions about church that may be pleasing, elegant, or time-honored. Bonsai are pleasing. Go is elegant. Sure, if you want to sound cool at a cocktail party, read Sun Tzu. But if you want to win, try de Jomini. Sure bonsai is fun in a solipsistic way, but better the man who plants a tree that produces fruit that produces seeds to produce many more trees to produce fruit…
There is a K-mart future for the United Methodist Church. That is, in the next 10 years, we will see an acceleration of churches closing, especially in the rural areas. Some will close because older congregants die. Some will close because they are run by wolves and vultures. Some will close because the pastors, perhaps hampered by wolves and vultures, won’t bring in the new people who have moved to the country. But close they will. And then there will be one option: to sell the property. And then we will, like K-mart, make a killing. Then comes the crucial moment. What will we do with the money?
What we should do is put it into starting new congregations all over the place, even in the poorest, inelegant places. Find by hook and by crook the kinds of pastors who can start a new work, and rebuild the church. What we will do, I am afraid, is send the money to the bureaucrats who can prop up the same failed plans that got us into this mess in the first place. But for a little while there will be a chance to lay aside things that are pleasing and even elegant in our own tradition for the things that will get the job done. From the beginning, the Kingdom has been forcefully advancing…
Let me give you an example of the frightening problems at the highest levels of the United Methodist Church, the jokers who get too much of our money. When I was at Christ Church, I was doing some research on how do churches grow by conversion, not transfer. Our growth comes from transfer—people moving from one town to another, or people who come from another denomination. That’s not growth. You can see it in a horrible piece of reality: there is no county in America that has more people attending church now than it did in 1990. Lots of churches have grown, but Christianity is dying. So, the key is to learn how to get back to making converts to the faith.
So, I did the logical thing. I called and emailed the United Methodist Church’s General Board of Discipleship and asked for the Evangelism bureau. We have a few people heading that up for the church. I asked what I thought was a simple question: which UM churches are growing by “profession of faith,” that is, conversion? I figured once I heard about who was doing it, I would look for churches about Christ Church’s size and learn from them.
They did not know. The very people in charge of evangelism for the largest mainline denomination in America have no idea which of their churches are growing by profession of faith; the people in charge of evangelism do not know which churches are doing evangelism!
But they did have a suggestion for me: I should get in contact with GCFA, the General Council on Finance and Administration. This agency keeps all the records for the UMC. So, since every church turns in a yearly report that has a line for “professions of faith,” they should be able to tell me which churches are growing by professions of faith.
Now, disregard the fact that maybe the evangelism gurus in the Board of Discipleship should already know that. So I got in touch with GCFA. Naturally, it’s not really their job to worry about that specific line in the report. They offered to send me the data reports of all 40,000 or so United Methodist Churches and then I could look at the profession of faith lines for each church…
Finally I broke down and called a retired bishop, Bishop Looney, who started the Foundation for Evangelism. I guess he started it because the bureaucrats weren’t doing evangelism. He gave me the names of a few churches based on my criteria. He knew it off the top of his head—because first, there are very few churches growing this way, and because he keeps up with such stuff.
We can keep doing what we’ve been doing. Or we can take the chance that is going to be offered us: to put our money to good use. Quit doing it the way we have been and do something that works. We have such an elegant structure, vast and sprawling, and many times that is all Go comes down to—a game that is about a beautiful and unpredictable complex design. Looks cool in a coffee house, but it’s not very good training for war.
Chess is a game of force, whereas Go is a game of patience. Maybe that’s not the right word. You take possession of property in Go by surrounding an opponent’s pieces, and the patterns that develop from that are beautiful. You take control in chess by bluntly forcing the opponent off the board, by bringing more force to bear than your opponent has.
I confess, I was interested in Go because of its elegance. I like chess a lot, but Go had some hold on my imagination. I also used to like bonsai. I always wanted to have a cedar or pine bonsai that I could make to look like the memories of my childhood on the beaches of California’s Central Coast—windswept and battered, but the tree endured, flourished, even, in spite of circumstances.
But my interest in Go ended because my interest in bonsai ended, and my interest in bonsai ended in George Strunk’s office. See, he has a bonsai plant there, in its nice little enameled trough. But it is totally dead. All its needles may be gone by this point. I asked him about it, and his answer was a real wake-up call. He said he just could not get into bonsai, could not bring himself to accede to the very idea of bonsai. He went on to say that he thought it was unnatural, to keep something from growing, to prune it, to take it out of its pot and prune its roots to keep it small, to keep it from growing. “It’s not the Kingdom,” he said.
Sometimes you need someone else to shake you out of complacency. You think you know something, you think you’re sold out to something. In my case, I like to think I am sold out to the growth of the Kingdom, the agricultural metaphors of Jesus. And yet there was a double-mind of interest in bonsai.
I know that sounds melodramatic, but I think that what was behind what George was saying was you have to believe. I don’t mean just lip-service, or think it’s a cool idea. But there is more to it than even working hard at it.
So there I was. I let go of bonsai, and Go, too. Because around the time that I heard George’s parable, I was also reading Victor Hanson’s Carnage and Culture, a book everyone should read. Hanson discusses the Western way of war in contrast to non-Western ways. He says what makes the Western way more effective is that it is finally amoral and not ritualized. That is to say, it is not so much interested in how as in what. There is a goal that is independent of the means to the extent that the Western way adopts and adapts to accomplish the ends of war as opposed to the forms.
This is what I mean by the title of this blog entry—in defense of brute force I mean we have to let go of notions about church that may be pleasing, elegant, or time-honored. Bonsai are pleasing. Go is elegant. Sure, if you want to sound cool at a cocktail party, read Sun Tzu. But if you want to win, try de Jomini. Sure bonsai is fun in a solipsistic way, but better the man who plants a tree that produces fruit that produces seeds to produce many more trees to produce fruit…
There is a K-mart future for the United Methodist Church. That is, in the next 10 years, we will see an acceleration of churches closing, especially in the rural areas. Some will close because older congregants die. Some will close because they are run by wolves and vultures. Some will close because the pastors, perhaps hampered by wolves and vultures, won’t bring in the new people who have moved to the country. But close they will. And then there will be one option: to sell the property. And then we will, like K-mart, make a killing. Then comes the crucial moment. What will we do with the money?
What we should do is put it into starting new congregations all over the place, even in the poorest, inelegant places. Find by hook and by crook the kinds of pastors who can start a new work, and rebuild the church. What we will do, I am afraid, is send the money to the bureaucrats who can prop up the same failed plans that got us into this mess in the first place. But for a little while there will be a chance to lay aside things that are pleasing and even elegant in our own tradition for the things that will get the job done. From the beginning, the Kingdom has been forcefully advancing…
Let me give you an example of the frightening problems at the highest levels of the United Methodist Church, the jokers who get too much of our money. When I was at Christ Church, I was doing some research on how do churches grow by conversion, not transfer. Our growth comes from transfer—people moving from one town to another, or people who come from another denomination. That’s not growth. You can see it in a horrible piece of reality: there is no county in America that has more people attending church now than it did in 1990. Lots of churches have grown, but Christianity is dying. So, the key is to learn how to get back to making converts to the faith.
So, I did the logical thing. I called and emailed the United Methodist Church’s General Board of Discipleship and asked for the Evangelism bureau. We have a few people heading that up for the church. I asked what I thought was a simple question: which UM churches are growing by “profession of faith,” that is, conversion? I figured once I heard about who was doing it, I would look for churches about Christ Church’s size and learn from them.
They did not know. The very people in charge of evangelism for the largest mainline denomination in America have no idea which of their churches are growing by profession of faith; the people in charge of evangelism do not know which churches are doing evangelism!
But they did have a suggestion for me: I should get in contact with GCFA, the General Council on Finance and Administration. This agency keeps all the records for the UMC. So, since every church turns in a yearly report that has a line for “professions of faith,” they should be able to tell me which churches are growing by professions of faith.
Now, disregard the fact that maybe the evangelism gurus in the Board of Discipleship should already know that. So I got in touch with GCFA. Naturally, it’s not really their job to worry about that specific line in the report. They offered to send me the data reports of all 40,000 or so United Methodist Churches and then I could look at the profession of faith lines for each church…
Finally I broke down and called a retired bishop, Bishop Looney, who started the Foundation for Evangelism. I guess he started it because the bureaucrats weren’t doing evangelism. He gave me the names of a few churches based on my criteria. He knew it off the top of his head—because first, there are very few churches growing this way, and because he keeps up with such stuff.
We can keep doing what we’ve been doing. Or we can take the chance that is going to be offered us: to put our money to good use. Quit doing it the way we have been and do something that works. We have such an elegant structure, vast and sprawling, and many times that is all Go comes down to—a game that is about a beautiful and unpredictable complex design. Looks cool in a coffee house, but it’s not very good training for war.
Monday, January 01, 2007
New Year
Already, this New Year is better than last. Last year, we knew we were headed for bone marrow transplant, that the disease would spread rapidly by the time we could get the transplant, and who knew what would happen? Who knew where things would stand at this point?
So we are thankful and full of praise. We are glad that things like seizures and splenectomy are not life-threatening parts of the disease. We are blessed. Family and friends have made this journey not just easier, but possible. So, what will this year be like? I am hoping it will be like last year, from the standpoint of relying on God. You can't go wrong there.
Happy New Year!
So we are thankful and full of praise. We are glad that things like seizures and splenectomy are not life-threatening parts of the disease. We are blessed. Family and friends have made this journey not just easier, but possible. So, what will this year be like? I am hoping it will be like last year, from the standpoint of relying on God. You can't go wrong there.
Happy New Year!
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