My boys
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
Friday, March 18, 2005
Leavin' on a Jet Plane
Tomorrow morning, 4am, Zippy the Wonderbus is loading up in the Lord of Life parking lot and a group of us are heading out to the Minneapolis St. Paul International Airport. We're boarding a 7:01am flight and are headin to Montego Bay (MoBay) Jamaica on an 8 day mission trip through an orgznization called Mission Jamaica.
I'm looking forward to the oportunity to lead this group again. This is, I think, my 7th year taking a group down there. I love the work. I love the children. I love the community.
MJ has become a pretty big deal in my congregation. This year something like 60+ people will be going down. And Lord of Life has become one of the lead congregations in the organization. It's all good.
There is a kind of a weird vibe in the MJ community. I'm not sure what it is. I'm hoping to reflect on it during this trip. I am concerned that we, as a group, are not able to "get out of the way" of God while we're there. This trip is not about us. It is about God and the children, through us. There is an important difference. We need to be about serving, not about being hugged. We need to become transparent.
How do we do that? How do we teach that?
I'll get back to you on it.
I'm looking forward to the oportunity to lead this group again. This is, I think, my 7th year taking a group down there. I love the work. I love the children. I love the community.
MJ has become a pretty big deal in my congregation. This year something like 60+ people will be going down. And Lord of Life has become one of the lead congregations in the organization. It's all good.
There is a kind of a weird vibe in the MJ community. I'm not sure what it is. I'm hoping to reflect on it during this trip. I am concerned that we, as a group, are not able to "get out of the way" of God while we're there. This trip is not about us. It is about God and the children, through us. There is an important difference. We need to be about serving, not about being hugged. We need to become transparent.
How do we do that? How do we teach that?
I'll get back to you on it.
Friday, March 11, 2005
God's Will vs. Our Will
How do we know what God's will is?
Let me give you a "for instance": When someone is absolutely convinced that God will heal without medical intervention, how do we know that to be true? How do we know that we shouldn't pursue all avenues of medical treatment?
How do we know and understand "end of life" issues. How do we understand the role of medicine in maintaining quality of life vs. allowing one to suffer?
The Pope's statement on Life Sustaining Treatments has opened up a whole new world of hurt for catholics. I had a conversation with a catholic dr. today about the difficulty the Pope's statement is going to create for those in health care and the patients.
If you are an orthodox/conservatiove Catholic, the answer is relatively easy: God's will is what the Pope says.
But as a Protestant, particularly a Lutheran, the question is just as valid. How do we respond to God's will? How do we recognize it?
Let me give you a "for instance": When someone is absolutely convinced that God will heal without medical intervention, how do we know that to be true? How do we know that we shouldn't pursue all avenues of medical treatment?
How do we know and understand "end of life" issues. How do we understand the role of medicine in maintaining quality of life vs. allowing one to suffer?
The Pope's statement on Life Sustaining Treatments has opened up a whole new world of hurt for catholics. I had a conversation with a catholic dr. today about the difficulty the Pope's statement is going to create for those in health care and the patients.
If you are an orthodox/conservatiove Catholic, the answer is relatively easy: God's will is what the Pope says.
But as a Protestant, particularly a Lutheran, the question is just as valid. How do we respond to God's will? How do we recognize it?
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Puzzles
Every day, several times a day, when I am working at Unity Hospital as a Chaplain (part of the Clinical Pastoral Education program I am a part of), I walk through the Intensive Care Unit and its family waiting area. In the family waiting area is a large, 1000 piece puzzle, spread out on a round table...the kind that you could fit 3-4 people around comfortably.
In the 6 weeks that I've been walking through the area, I have seen this puzzle put together, pulled apart, put back together and pulled back apart...time and time again. I just walked through the area again about 15 minutes ago. There it was, probably 40% assembled. Tonight by the time I leave at 6pm, it might be 60% assembled. Tomorrow night, perhaps 20%.
People sit and assemble the puzzle. Then they are called in to their loved ones room. A few minutes later another patient's loved ones might sit down and put some pieces together. The first family walks back out and looks at what the second family has done. They talk. They laugh a little bit. They wonder when all is said and done, how many pieces might be missing from the final product. A small, weird sense of community forms around the puzzle.
They look at the puzzle and wonder who is sitting at home now, unaware that a medical crisis might erupt that will draw them to the ICU. These unknowing people might be working on the puzzle tomorrow...or the next day...
The puzzle becomes a metaphor for their situation. Broken. Confused. In the midst of a long process. Difficult. A challenge to patience. Waiting to be made whole.
It's interesting that when people sit down at the puzzle, they do so with a significant amount of energy. They really focus on finding the next piece. I've had whole conversations with people who barely look up at me. It's almost as if by force of will, they can make the puzzle whole, and by force of will, they can make their loved ones healthy.
The puzzle is a metaphor for all of us really. Broken. Confused. In themidst of a long process. Difficult. A challenge to patience. Waiting to be made whole.
Perhaps not medically, but broken nonetheless.
It is not force of will that will heal us however. We have tried that far too many times. What heals us comes only from God. It is grace that we depend on. It is grace that makes us whole. We have to remember that though we are participants in the restoration of the puzzle that is ourselves, it is God, the author of the puzzle, who can actually put us back together again.
Puzzles. We are puzzles. Broken. Waiting. God, piece us together again.
In the 6 weeks that I've been walking through the area, I have seen this puzzle put together, pulled apart, put back together and pulled back apart...time and time again. I just walked through the area again about 15 minutes ago. There it was, probably 40% assembled. Tonight by the time I leave at 6pm, it might be 60% assembled. Tomorrow night, perhaps 20%.
People sit and assemble the puzzle. Then they are called in to their loved ones room. A few minutes later another patient's loved ones might sit down and put some pieces together. The first family walks back out and looks at what the second family has done. They talk. They laugh a little bit. They wonder when all is said and done, how many pieces might be missing from the final product. A small, weird sense of community forms around the puzzle.
They look at the puzzle and wonder who is sitting at home now, unaware that a medical crisis might erupt that will draw them to the ICU. These unknowing people might be working on the puzzle tomorrow...or the next day...
The puzzle becomes a metaphor for their situation. Broken. Confused. In the midst of a long process. Difficult. A challenge to patience. Waiting to be made whole.
It's interesting that when people sit down at the puzzle, they do so with a significant amount of energy. They really focus on finding the next piece. I've had whole conversations with people who barely look up at me. It's almost as if by force of will, they can make the puzzle whole, and by force of will, they can make their loved ones healthy.
The puzzle is a metaphor for all of us really. Broken. Confused. In themidst of a long process. Difficult. A challenge to patience. Waiting to be made whole.
Perhaps not medically, but broken nonetheless.
It is not force of will that will heal us however. We have tried that far too many times. What heals us comes only from God. It is grace that we depend on. It is grace that makes us whole. We have to remember that though we are participants in the restoration of the puzzle that is ourselves, it is God, the author of the puzzle, who can actually put us back together again.
Puzzles. We are puzzles. Broken. Waiting. God, piece us together again.
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Band of Brothers
I just finished reading Band of Brothers by Stephen Ambrose. An amazing history of an amazing group of people.
I don't know how to define heros, but I know one when I see one.
I don't know how to define heros, but I know one when I see one.
Worship
Tonight we led worship at 3 different sessions of confirmation. Each session had between 100 & 225 people at it. But because we "merged" confirmation with the Wednesday worship, the vast majority (90%) were jr. high/middle school students.
The 6pm and 7:15pm sessions went fine. But 4:30 was kind of a disaster. Kids talked through the service. There was general rudeness. They weren't hanging with their group leader.
As the worship leader, and also the person responsible for the night as a faith-formation activity, I was torn. I could stop and "correct" (or berate) the jr highers, but that would put a serious damper in the worship moment. Of course, that was already happening.
I guess the moment surprised me.
The root of my question is "what place does reverance have in our culture". Is there anything that brings about or inspires awe? There are times, when the setting is right, and often surrounded by music, that I am emotionally/spiritually taken to another place by a worship experience. It doesn't happen often. But I have experienced it. Because of it, because of how God has worked in those moments, I come at worship with a sense of respect for what it is and can be.
The young people in the room at 4:30pm tonight did not have that. How do we teach worship? How do we teach reverance? How do we teach awe?
It is not something we find, I suppose. It is something that finds us. In the same way I have experienced it, it will be experienced by the young people in the room tonight. God will work in spite of them. God will work in spite of us.
But I want to think about how we create these moments...this holy time...kairos...where young people experience this. We will set the table. God will serve.
The 6pm and 7:15pm sessions went fine. But 4:30 was kind of a disaster. Kids talked through the service. There was general rudeness. They weren't hanging with their group leader.
As the worship leader, and also the person responsible for the night as a faith-formation activity, I was torn. I could stop and "correct" (or berate) the jr highers, but that would put a serious damper in the worship moment. Of course, that was already happening.
I guess the moment surprised me.
The root of my question is "what place does reverance have in our culture". Is there anything that brings about or inspires awe? There are times, when the setting is right, and often surrounded by music, that I am emotionally/spiritually taken to another place by a worship experience. It doesn't happen often. But I have experienced it. Because of it, because of how God has worked in those moments, I come at worship with a sense of respect for what it is and can be.
The young people in the room at 4:30pm tonight did not have that. How do we teach worship? How do we teach reverance? How do we teach awe?
It is not something we find, I suppose. It is something that finds us. In the same way I have experienced it, it will be experienced by the young people in the room tonight. God will work in spite of them. God will work in spite of us.
But I want to think about how we create these moments...this holy time...kairos...where young people experience this. We will set the table. God will serve.
Monday, March 07, 2005
Sunday, March 06, 2005
An annual ritual
It was the first really nice day today. Honestly. Something like 56 degrees today. Snow melt and water runoff like crazy.
An odd, annual phenomenon happens on this day.
Minnesotans wake up.
We stumble out of wherever we've been, and with our eyes squinting in the bright sun, we stumble around, suddenly breathing in air that is not so frosted that it is devoid of any smell. It's as if we are being born, stepping outside for the first time again...dazed and confused.
I think it's partly the warmth. We aren't used to it. We step outside and then stand...and stand...startled by the fact that the hair in our noses isn't freezing. And so we go back inside and change jackets. We do this a couple of times until we find one that fits the temparature.
In the meantime, it's also the brightness that surprises us. We start fishing around for sunglasses.
We walk around the neighborhood, looking like it's our first experience with a walk.
We walk through the snow runoff/water that is running down the curb to the storm sewer. The ice that edges these curbs cracks under our feet when we step on it with a really satisfying "crunch," as if we are then personally responsible for the ending of spring by stomping on winter.
We run into neighbors and ask "Hey, how have you been?" Only people with the same winter experience know that we're really asking "how have you been since the last time I saw you...in early November."
In Minnesota, Good Friday lasts 5 months long. Today was an Easter.
It reminds me of the startledness and surprise disciples might have experienced when they realized the resurrection actually might have happened.
Dazed. Confused. Puzzled.
Joyous.
An odd, annual phenomenon happens on this day.
Minnesotans wake up.
We stumble out of wherever we've been, and with our eyes squinting in the bright sun, we stumble around, suddenly breathing in air that is not so frosted that it is devoid of any smell. It's as if we are being born, stepping outside for the first time again...dazed and confused.
I think it's partly the warmth. We aren't used to it. We step outside and then stand...and stand...startled by the fact that the hair in our noses isn't freezing. And so we go back inside and change jackets. We do this a couple of times until we find one that fits the temparature.
In the meantime, it's also the brightness that surprises us. We start fishing around for sunglasses.
We walk around the neighborhood, looking like it's our first experience with a walk.
We walk through the snow runoff/water that is running down the curb to the storm sewer. The ice that edges these curbs cracks under our feet when we step on it with a really satisfying "crunch," as if we are then personally responsible for the ending of spring by stomping on winter.
We run into neighbors and ask "Hey, how have you been?" Only people with the same winter experience know that we're really asking "how have you been since the last time I saw you...in early November."
In Minnesota, Good Friday lasts 5 months long. Today was an Easter.
It reminds me of the startledness and surprise disciples might have experienced when they realized the resurrection actually might have happened.
Dazed. Confused. Puzzled.
Joyous.
Friday, March 04, 2005
Mark Fiore Web Animatin
Interesting. Will animated cartoons replace editorial cartoons in the future?
Hoops
There are some things in life that we just have to do. There's not a lot of options. In order for us to get from "point A" to "point D", we have to go through "B" and "C".
I'm in one of those times right now as I go about CPE at Unity Hospital.
Things I believe about my CPE unit:
I'm in one of those times right now as I go about CPE at Unity Hospital.
Things I believe about my CPE unit:
- I believe that I'm going to learn things I didn't expect to learn.
- I believe that I'm working with really fun people and I enjoy them.
- I believe that my work here has value. Those with whom I do ministry seem to appreciate my presence.
- I believe that I'm being challenged to do things outside of my comfort zone.
So what's the problem? Why is it that when I think of CPE, I tend to put it in the framework of a "hoop?" Is it that I don't own it? Is it that it was something I had to do instead of something I chose?
Let's expand the question:
What else does God ask of us that we think of as "hoops"?
- Is loving God with all of our heart, soul and mind a hoop?
- Is loving my neighbor as I love myself a hoop?
- Is doing justice a hoop?
- Is loving kindness a hoop?
- Is walking humbly with God a hoop?
I guess the primary issue for me is that God doesn't require hoops. We don't jump for God. We might jump because of God, but we don't jump for God.
I suppose that someone could look at what God asks of us as hoops. But I think if they do that they don't have a very well developed understanding of the Grace that fuels us to want to do these things.
What God asks of us is not "hoop" as much as it is "direction." Direction in where to focus the energy that comes as a result of God's grace for us.
It is my attitude about these expectations that needs to change.
And perhaps even my attitude about CPE.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Last Night as I Was Sleeping
Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt - marvelous error! -
that a spring was breaking
out in my heart.
I sazid: Along which secret aqueduct
Oh water, are you coming to me,
water of a new life
that I have neer drunk?
Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt -marvelous error!-
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.
Last night as I was sleepiong,
I dreamt -marvelous error!-
that a fiery sun was giving
light inside my heart.
It was fiery because I felt
warmth as from a hearth,
and sun because it gave light
and brought tears to my eyes.
Last night as I slept
I dreamt -marvelous error!-
that it was God I had
here inside my heart.
- Antonio Machado
(1875-1939)
I dreamt - marvelous error! -
that a spring was breaking
out in my heart.
I sazid: Along which secret aqueduct
Oh water, are you coming to me,
water of a new life
that I have neer drunk?
Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt -marvelous error!-
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.
Last night as I was sleepiong,
I dreamt -marvelous error!-
that a fiery sun was giving
light inside my heart.
It was fiery because I felt
warmth as from a hearth,
and sun because it gave light
and brought tears to my eyes.
Last night as I slept
I dreamt -marvelous error!-
that it was God I had
here inside my heart.
- Antonio Machado
(1875-1939)
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