A bonus to following the church calendar means that we get to celebrate Easter for weeks after Easter (until Pentecost). And so, in the not-so-spirit of Eastertide, I give you this nugget of happiness...
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Hard Times In Babylon
As the economy continues to drop, our charitable giving should not. For those of us who have enough and also surplus, this is a hard time on charities. I hadn't considered that before, but this article has inspired me to make an extra trip to the grocery store.
Find areas where you can serve or support online or at Cool People Care.
Find areas where you can serve or support online or at Cool People Care.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
An Unfortunate Seminar
While Tuesday's experience at Austin's Transforming Culture Symposium was exciting, Wednesday's had a major letdown. More like a let-my-blood-pressure-go-up downer. I went to a break-out session on Preaching and besides it being not all it's cracked up to be (all conferences have so-so sessions - it's inevitable), the man who spoke, Reg Grant, was terribly offensive and for lack of a better word, conservative. I will try and find a better word as I go along so as not to make a blanket statement such as he made throughout the presentation. I will also comment on two areas: one, his content and two, his beliefs about preaching and theology.
Let me preface by stating some of the things I liked...
"If you want to read a good book on preaching, you should just read good literature. It will help you be a better preacher." Agreed!
"Our liberal friends..." Although I do not consider myself liberal (liberal in my opinion is denying the divinity of Christ), I appreciated that he didn't just say, "the liberals" or insert any negative word before liberal but instead called "us" (I'm assuming he would label me as such) friends. That was a nice touch. Although I probably would have just said, "other scholars..."
Now onto content.
He spoke on archetypes in narrative stories, especially movies. Great stuff. If you've ever taken a literature class, you've probably studied some form of what he spoke of. It reminded me of my seventh grade Odyssey class (think talented and gifted program) when we were preparing to read Beowulf. He worked from the ideas set forth by Christopher Vogler in The Writer's Journey who relies heavily on Joseph Campbell. Reg walked us through several movie examples of this model, then took a couple Biblical narratives and applied it. This exercise proved interesting and insightful though I didn't agree with Reg entirely on who he made the allies and enemies in Ruth, but whatever. People have different interpretations. That's the joy of scripture. He was obviously well versed and had done a lot of research on narrative. He's from DTS (did I mention that? - and no! - I did not know that going into the break-out), so I figured I wouldn't agree with him on everything, but I did figure I could still learn a lot and hopefully be able to dialogue, if not with him or the class, within myself over ideas.
However, his thesis was something along the lines of "all stories follow this basic archetypal outline in some form or another and God is the ultimate Author of this narrative structure and works His [sic] will in dominantly the same way." Okay... a bit heavy on the God stuff about how God works in the world (evidenced by his reference to dispensationalism which he assumed we all agreed with - ugh!) He also asserted that any movies that haven't followed this structure have been blockbuster busts. While this is a good start to evaluating movies and books, at some point Reg's argument breaks down. And some of us in the class pointed this out: our Academy Award winners and nominees this year There Will Be Blood and No Country For Old Men are perfect examples of this. There is no Resurrection. There is no return with the Elixir. There is no return to Ideal Place or Ordinary Time such as he presented it. So while this is a good, elementary model for understanding narrative, it is, as most models are, not all-encompassing. And certainly not all good movies follow this model. (Side note: an interesting discussion would be, what model do non-traditional movies tend to follow if not the typical archetypal model?)
Now, his ideas on preaching. And this is where I moved from quietly-disagreeing-at-times-but-still-interested into outright embarrassment, shame, anger, and a host of other feelings from being stuck in that room.
The question was asked, "What's an appropriate way to use a movie in a sermon illustration?" Oh I try not to use movie clips in sermons because they upstage you. Movies use excellent writers and famous actors and brilliant cinematography. You as the preacher need to be the best one speaking to the people so they hear your important message and that's hard if you're showing a movie clip. Plus, I never want to be caught endorsing a movie from the pulpit. Even if you say "I don't agree with this movie, but there's a good scene that shows..." you're endorsing the movie.
To which I would respond, "We're at a symposium on art right?" I mean, why spend an hour talking about archetypes and brilliant movies and be asked to teach on "PREACHING - Perspective on Preaching Narratively and Artistically" and veto the idea of using movie clips? Films are art! Art is good! Even if it's produced by people "in the world" (insert ominous voice). Even if it's art created by people who "need our prayers" (when introducing one author, Reg noted that although his book was good, he wasn't sure if he was a Christian and we should pray for him). It's good! Art inspires thought and beauty and is important in a worship setting! You don't have to show a movie clip every week, but you sure as heck shouldn't feel discouraged from using them at all!
Question two: "Who are some examples of good narrative preachers?" Excellent, I thought and began forming my own list. Barbara Brown Taylor, Fred Craddock... Baylor had a study several years ago naming the Top Twelve Most Effective Preachers in the world. Reg didn't mention one of them. He did say this though... Emergent people like Brian McLaren are narrative preachers but their theology is so bad it's difficult to listen to them. I have heard one good sermon by Rob Bell though. (Long pause). It's just hard. Sometimes there is a nugget of good in what they say. And they do reach out to culture and say some good things, but it's layered in bad theology. So... (shoulder shrug). The problem with these narrative preachers is that they tell a really great story and then tack a bible story on the end and expect it to relate. They expect that to make what they just said a sermon. And that's an unbiblical, unsound sermon. (Um... aren't you supposed to be speaking on Narrative Sermon? Why are you saying this? Are you still just reaming on the Emergent peeps?)
Then, in a response to another question about truth-telling he said, You have to give your congregation one thing and repeat it over and over so that they are sure to get it. Make sure they hear and walk away with it. At this point I raised my shaking hand and praying my neck wasn't too red from embarrassment and anger I said, "I heard Barbara Brown Taylor speak last year and she actually said that as preachers we should feed our congregation good food, but not chew it up for them. In other words, present them with thoughts, but let them process. Is that in direct contrast to what you're saying?" No, Reg responded. And then he gave an illustration about his three year old daughter and Easter. She couldn't see the eggs hidden in the grass because she was so small and didn't have the perspective her father did. So he'd lead her to an area, pull back the grass and lo! she'd "found" the egg. She's pick it up and marvel at her discovery. If he had picked it up, they would have had to go find another egg, but because his daughter had picked up the egg where her father had led her and pulled back the grass for her to see, she was excited and proud about her discovery. So too, when he preaches can he lead the congregation to the point where they can elbow their neighbor and say, "I know where he's going with this!" and feel like they figured it out. But the preacher had to take them there, the preacher had to pull back the grass, but he lets the people pick up the egg.
Well, no. Actually, I think those are two different ways to describe preaching entirely. Your congregation is comprised of adults, not children. And they have brains and perspective and don't need to be spoon-fed and get excited about figuring out you've fed them cheerios and not spinich. They can pull back their own grass! Or heck, they can explore the field! They're Baptists! They're encouraged to think on their own and come to their own conclusions, meditate on the scripture, weigh in their experience and reason within themselves about their faith. We may bring a message, but we're not mama birds that we have to chew it up and spit it into their mouths. They can survey the feast of faith and devour it too!
Ugh. I'm tired of writing about this. I shouldn't have perhaps, but lest someone buy the CD's or attend the next Symposium and feel slighted because I gave a booming report the first day - I'm now on record as saying there were some questionable moments, it is true. The choice to bring in this speaker was one of them.
Let me preface by stating some of the things I liked...
"If you want to read a good book on preaching, you should just read good literature. It will help you be a better preacher." Agreed!
"Our liberal friends..." Although I do not consider myself liberal (liberal in my opinion is denying the divinity of Christ), I appreciated that he didn't just say, "the liberals" or insert any negative word before liberal but instead called "us" (I'm assuming he would label me as such) friends. That was a nice touch. Although I probably would have just said, "other scholars..."
Now onto content.
He spoke on archetypes in narrative stories, especially movies. Great stuff. If you've ever taken a literature class, you've probably studied some form of what he spoke of. It reminded me of my seventh grade Odyssey class (think talented and gifted program) when we were preparing to read Beowulf. He worked from the ideas set forth by Christopher Vogler in The Writer's Journey who relies heavily on Joseph Campbell. Reg walked us through several movie examples of this model, then took a couple Biblical narratives and applied it. This exercise proved interesting and insightful though I didn't agree with Reg entirely on who he made the allies and enemies in Ruth, but whatever. People have different interpretations. That's the joy of scripture. He was obviously well versed and had done a lot of research on narrative. He's from DTS (did I mention that? - and no! - I did not know that going into the break-out), so I figured I wouldn't agree with him on everything, but I did figure I could still learn a lot and hopefully be able to dialogue, if not with him or the class, within myself over ideas.
However, his thesis was something along the lines of "all stories follow this basic archetypal outline in some form or another and God is the ultimate Author of this narrative structure and works His [sic] will in dominantly the same way." Okay... a bit heavy on the God stuff about how God works in the world (evidenced by his reference to dispensationalism which he assumed we all agreed with - ugh!) He also asserted that any movies that haven't followed this structure have been blockbuster busts. While this is a good start to evaluating movies and books, at some point Reg's argument breaks down. And some of us in the class pointed this out: our Academy Award winners and nominees this year There Will Be Blood and No Country For Old Men are perfect examples of this. There is no Resurrection. There is no return with the Elixir. There is no return to Ideal Place or Ordinary Time such as he presented it. So while this is a good, elementary model for understanding narrative, it is, as most models are, not all-encompassing. And certainly not all good movies follow this model. (Side note: an interesting discussion would be, what model do non-traditional movies tend to follow if not the typical archetypal model?)
Now, his ideas on preaching. And this is where I moved from quietly-disagreeing-at-times-but-still-interested into outright embarrassment, shame, anger, and a host of other feelings from being stuck in that room.
The question was asked, "What's an appropriate way to use a movie in a sermon illustration?" Oh I try not to use movie clips in sermons because they upstage you. Movies use excellent writers and famous actors and brilliant cinematography. You as the preacher need to be the best one speaking to the people so they hear your important message and that's hard if you're showing a movie clip. Plus, I never want to be caught endorsing a movie from the pulpit. Even if you say "I don't agree with this movie, but there's a good scene that shows..." you're endorsing the movie.
To which I would respond, "We're at a symposium on art right?" I mean, why spend an hour talking about archetypes and brilliant movies and be asked to teach on "PREACHING - Perspective on Preaching Narratively and Artistically" and veto the idea of using movie clips? Films are art! Art is good! Even if it's produced by people "in the world" (insert ominous voice). Even if it's art created by people who "need our prayers" (when introducing one author, Reg noted that although his book was good, he wasn't sure if he was a Christian and we should pray for him). It's good! Art inspires thought and beauty and is important in a worship setting! You don't have to show a movie clip every week, but you sure as heck shouldn't feel discouraged from using them at all!
Question two: "Who are some examples of good narrative preachers?" Excellent, I thought and began forming my own list. Barbara Brown Taylor, Fred Craddock... Baylor had a study several years ago naming the Top Twelve Most Effective Preachers in the world. Reg didn't mention one of them. He did say this though... Emergent people like Brian McLaren are narrative preachers but their theology is so bad it's difficult to listen to them. I have heard one good sermon by Rob Bell though. (Long pause). It's just hard. Sometimes there is a nugget of good in what they say. And they do reach out to culture and say some good things, but it's layered in bad theology. So... (shoulder shrug). The problem with these narrative preachers is that they tell a really great story and then tack a bible story on the end and expect it to relate. They expect that to make what they just said a sermon. And that's an unbiblical, unsound sermon. (Um... aren't you supposed to be speaking on Narrative Sermon? Why are you saying this? Are you still just reaming on the Emergent peeps?)
Then, in a response to another question about truth-telling he said, You have to give your congregation one thing and repeat it over and over so that they are sure to get it. Make sure they hear and walk away with it. At this point I raised my shaking hand and praying my neck wasn't too red from embarrassment and anger I said, "I heard Barbara Brown Taylor speak last year and she actually said that as preachers we should feed our congregation good food, but not chew it up for them. In other words, present them with thoughts, but let them process. Is that in direct contrast to what you're saying?" No, Reg responded. And then he gave an illustration about his three year old daughter and Easter. She couldn't see the eggs hidden in the grass because she was so small and didn't have the perspective her father did. So he'd lead her to an area, pull back the grass and lo! she'd "found" the egg. She's pick it up and marvel at her discovery. If he had picked it up, they would have had to go find another egg, but because his daughter had picked up the egg where her father had led her and pulled back the grass for her to see, she was excited and proud about her discovery. So too, when he preaches can he lead the congregation to the point where they can elbow their neighbor and say, "I know where he's going with this!" and feel like they figured it out. But the preacher had to take them there, the preacher had to pull back the grass, but he lets the people pick up the egg.
Well, no. Actually, I think those are two different ways to describe preaching entirely. Your congregation is comprised of adults, not children. And they have brains and perspective and don't need to be spoon-fed and get excited about figuring out you've fed them cheerios and not spinich. They can pull back their own grass! Or heck, they can explore the field! They're Baptists! They're encouraged to think on their own and come to their own conclusions, meditate on the scripture, weigh in their experience and reason within themselves about their faith. We may bring a message, but we're not mama birds that we have to chew it up and spit it into their mouths. They can survey the feast of faith and devour it too!
Ugh. I'm tired of writing about this. I shouldn't have perhaps, but lest someone buy the CD's or attend the next Symposium and feel slighted because I gave a booming report the first day - I'm now on record as saying there were some questionable moments, it is true. The choice to bring in this speaker was one of them.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
If You're Around Austin...
Trade As One is coming to Austin to discuss serious social justice issues and to put on fair trade markets in partnership with local churches where everyone is welcome to come and put consumer dollars to work for a noble cause, helping the poorest among us. Trade As One is an innovative fair trade, organization that’s changing the way America shops. It’s founder, Nathan George, is coming to town on April 5th and 6th to conduct a workshop on faith and fair trade, to speak at several Austin area churches and to host a bazaar featuring beautiful international gifts, purchased in the purest definition of fair trade, from around the world.
What is the relationship between faith and consumerism? What does it mean for believers that half the planet is in dire poverty and more than 30,000 poor die every day? Is the church called to subvert, reform and redirect America’s economic engine to help the needy? Trade As One presents a forum to discuss these critical questions.
Sat Apr 5, 9am-2pm, Journey Imperfect Faith Community, 3009 Industrial Terrace. Discuss fair trade markets that transform lives and to interact with Nathan, exploring the issues around poverty and commerce and faith. Hear from those in the Trade As One network.
Sun Apr 6, 8:30am, 9:45am, and 11:15am, Riverbend Church, 4214 Capital of TX Highway. Nathan will be interviewed at each service and will be discussing the work and mission of Trade As One.
Sun Apr 6, 9am-1pm, Market: Riverbend Church 4214 Capital of TX Highway. Purchase fair trade goods. Beautifully made jewelry, purses, scarves, house wares, clothing and more. Tags on the products tell how purchasing the item will help change lives.
Sun Apr 6, 5:30pm, Mosaic Church, 5619 Airport Blvd. Nathan will be speaking on justice issues and the work and mission of Trade As One.
What is the relationship between faith and consumerism? What does it mean for believers that half the planet is in dire poverty and more than 30,000 poor die every day? Is the church called to subvert, reform and redirect America’s economic engine to help the needy? Trade As One presents a forum to discuss these critical questions.
Sat Apr 5, 9am-2pm, Journey Imperfect Faith Community, 3009 Industrial Terrace. Discuss fair trade markets that transform lives and to interact with Nathan, exploring the issues around poverty and commerce and faith. Hear from those in the Trade As One network.
Sun Apr 6, 8:30am, 9:45am, and 11:15am, Riverbend Church, 4214 Capital of TX Highway. Nathan will be interviewed at each service and will be discussing the work and mission of Trade As One.
Sun Apr 6, 9am-1pm, Market: Riverbend Church 4214 Capital of TX Highway. Purchase fair trade goods. Beautifully made jewelry, purses, scarves, house wares, clothing and more. Tags on the products tell how purchasing the item will help change lives.
Sun Apr 6, 5:30pm, Mosaic Church, 5619 Airport Blvd. Nathan will be speaking on justice issues and the work and mission of Trade As One.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Culture and Faith
Today I attended day 1 of the Transforming Culture Symposium here in ATX. This morning I heard Andy Crouch give this speech... THE GOSPEL: In what way is art a gift, a calling, and an obedience. I thought it pretty much rocked and wanted to share my notes with you... Plus Andy exegeted Genesis which I lurve and he recited one of my favorite poems, The Red Wheelbarrow.
Read Genesis 2:4-15
Culture is what we make of the world in both senses
-the stuff we make from it
-the sense we make of it
Genesis 2 is "creatio ex creatis" - making something of something. The first gardener is God and culture is the first thing God gives to Adam. Culture is God's idea.
"Pleasant to the sight and good for food"... nourishment and beauty.
"the gold of the land is good"... list of precious and natural resources whose only real value is in their beauty. The world is even better than it appears! These are hidden beneath, dormant. Their beauty is seen when someone finds them, pulls them out and does something with them.
to "know good and evil" is NOT to "be wise"... That's not what God said. This is where culture oversteps - Adam and Eve use the world to replace a relationship with God.
"they sewed fig leaves together"... culture (clothing) is now (sadly) used to hid exposure. The leaves become functional - protection from one another, those who once were "bone of my bone" are now cut off from one another...
Following Genesis 3 comes murder, binge drinking, tool-making, etc.
BUT despite this, the Creator STAYS engaged and continues to create from creation, even to the point of becoming creation: he took, he blessed, he broke, and he gave! Bread and Wine are culture, not just creation. They become the sign and presence of God in the world.
So...
Do we believe that culture is a gift, a calling?
Can it be taken, blessed and given?
Art: aspects of culture that cannot be reduced to utility. It is not useless but inutile. Not a means to an end, but an end.
Why use a carefully crafted sentence when a stupid one will work? Why put wallpaper on a wall already there? ART.
Beware religious utility! Religion is not a means to an end. What if the world is a gift? What if God is infinately more invested in us than we are in ourselves? What if we don't sacrifice something to attract the attention of God, but rather God becomes the sacrifice?
Will worship be for us a response to grace or an article of persuasion?
Great questions and thoughts for all engaged in faith and culture or faith and art conversations...
Read Genesis 2:4-15
Culture is what we make of the world in both senses
-the stuff we make from it
-the sense we make of it
Genesis 2 is "creatio ex creatis" - making something of something. The first gardener is God and culture is the first thing God gives to Adam. Culture is God's idea.
"Pleasant to the sight and good for food"... nourishment and beauty.
"the gold of the land is good"... list of precious and natural resources whose only real value is in their beauty. The world is even better than it appears! These are hidden beneath, dormant. Their beauty is seen when someone finds them, pulls them out and does something with them.
to "know good and evil" is NOT to "be wise"... That's not what God said. This is where culture oversteps - Adam and Eve use the world to replace a relationship with God.
"they sewed fig leaves together"... culture (clothing) is now (sadly) used to hid exposure. The leaves become functional - protection from one another, those who once were "bone of my bone" are now cut off from one another...
Following Genesis 3 comes murder, binge drinking, tool-making, etc.
BUT despite this, the Creator STAYS engaged and continues to create from creation, even to the point of becoming creation: he took, he blessed, he broke, and he gave! Bread and Wine are culture, not just creation. They become the sign and presence of God in the world.
So...
Do we believe that culture is a gift, a calling?
Can it be taken, blessed and given?
Art: aspects of culture that cannot be reduced to utility. It is not useless but inutile. Not a means to an end, but an end.
Why use a carefully crafted sentence when a stupid one will work? Why put wallpaper on a wall already there? ART.
Beware religious utility! Religion is not a means to an end. What if the world is a gift? What if God is infinately more invested in us than we are in ourselves? What if we don't sacrifice something to attract the attention of God, but rather God becomes the sacrifice?
Will worship be for us a response to grace or an article of persuasion?
Great questions and thoughts for all engaged in faith and culture or faith and art conversations...
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
By a thread...
It's already begun people. I don't care what you think about Al Gore or his rhetoric. No issue has ever been more agreed upon by scientists and it is scary.
Whenever my representatives call me or poll me to ask about my top "concern" for america, it's the environment. I hate the war and I worry about the poor. I'm troubled by our lack of empathy with regard toward immigration issues and as for health care - well, that's just a given. But unless we can find ways to creatively and resourcefully and responsibly live on this earth, the rest isn't going to matter anyway. So I tell them, "please work to help the environment."
An amazing new (to me) person who illustrates this is Van Jones check him out in this interview from this month's issue of my favorite Magazine.
Whenever my representatives call me or poll me to ask about my top "concern" for america, it's the environment. I hate the war and I worry about the poor. I'm troubled by our lack of empathy with regard toward immigration issues and as for health care - well, that's just a given. But unless we can find ways to creatively and resourcefully and responsibly live on this earth, the rest isn't going to matter anyway. So I tell them, "please work to help the environment."
An amazing new (to me) person who illustrates this is Van Jones check him out in this interview from this month's issue of my favorite Magazine.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Maundy Thursday Noonday Sermon
Scripture: Isaiah 116; John 13...
You have one life.
One.
“I love the LORD, because he has heard my voice and my supplications. Because he inclined his ear to me, therefore I will call on God as long as I live.”
You have one life.
One.
“What shall I return to the LORD for all his bounty to me?”
You have one life.
One.
I asked the youth several weeks ago at Encounter on a Wednesday night what they would choose to do vocationally if they had a million dollars but were required to work a job nonetheless.
I received a spectrum of answers.
“I’d be a trash man.” No you wouldn’t. “Alright, I’d be a carney!” Fine.
“I’d sell Dr. Pepper.”
“I’d be a fortune teller.”
Interesting answers. Some of the responses were a little more believable though, and actually inspiring.
“I’d be a teacher.” Isn’t that what you want to be now? “Yes, it’s what I want to do.” Good for you.
“I’d be a zoologist.” Really!
“I’d still be a youth minister,” said Kevin.
The community writing the Psalms responded to a similar defining question. They described God as the one who loosed their bonds. God untied the cords binding them, and set them free. Once set free, the community in the Psalms chose to give back. They chose to drink from the cup of salvation, publicly declare their devotion to God and offer a sacrifice of thanksgiving.
You have one life. One. What will you do with it?
When we turn to the gospel, to the night Jesus took his cup and gave it to his disciples to drink, took his bread and gave it to them to eat, he did something else. He washed their feet.
He bent low to the ground, crawling off his comfy cushion. On all fours he crawled one by one to the disciples and sitting back on his haunches, he dipped the cleansing cloth into the water basin. He held it to their dirty, cracked, calloused, dust-painted feet and wiped, scrubbed, washed their feet. He performed a servant’s job. Out of his devotion for his disciples, he chose to serve them, do the dirty work so they would be clean.
The foot washing was symbolic of Jesus’ whole ministry. He spent most of his time healing and affirming and loving the children of God, but this foot washing was literal too. As if touching their leprous sores and feeding their crying children and healing their contagious parents and hearing out their ego-centric questions and loving the obnoxiously unlovable people of this world that you and I encounter on a daily basis - people that you and I go to work with or worse yet, for, and sit beside at PTA meetings and sit behind in rush hour traffic, all these obnoxiously unlovable people of which each of us is one… as if that were not enough, he washed his disciples’ feet too.
He gave his life, and he also washed their feet. That’s what Jesus chose to do with his one life here on earth.
And I wonder if perhaps we couldn’t see the worth in each other the way Jesus saw the worth in us. I wonder if we couldn’t spend a little time improving our world for the greater good. I wonder if we couldn’t do what we really want to in life – fully be the children of God we are called to be – unique and beautiful and gifted and flawed and God’s.
You have one life.
One.
I read the other day the letter that the man who gunned down the people at New Life Church in Colorado Springs wrote and left in his car. Angry, confused and frustrated by hypocritical Christians and a quiet God, he took out his angst on a church and killed four people in the process.
He wrote, “I’ve heard good things about what Jesus can do, yet everywhere I go in Christianity, all the Christians I meet or see are miserable, angry, selfish, hypocritical, proud, power-hungry, abusive, uncaring, confused, lustful.”
These are not words I would use to describe my Christ, and truthfully they are not words I’d like to describe his followers, his disciples, his people, me and my community, the community of the Saints.
But that’s what Matthew Murray wrote.
I hope that when I discover that I have been set free by God, that I have one life to live fully and abundantly, I won’t choose to embody any of the repulsive qualities Matthew Murray ascribes to followers of Christ.
And yet, I will. I’m human. I screw up. All those Christians he observed and learned to distrust were humans. He was human when he opened fire on a church ending four lives and then killed himself.
Only human.
“I call upon God…. I lift up the cup of salvation… I become God’s servant… I pay my vows to the LORD in the presence of all the people… I offer a thanksgiving sacrifice.”
“I wash your feet and you also ought to wash one another’s feet.”
You have one life. One. What will you choose to do with it?
See, your life goes far beyond what job you have, what vocation you choose - million dollars or not. Your one life and my one life include the jobs we have but more importantly, our life really is how we do those jobs. Life is about attitudes and worldviews. It’s about how we treat the people we love and how we treat the people we hate. It’s about eliminating a vocabulary of hate.
Maybe it’s because I’m turning thirty in May or maybe it’s because my ex-boyfriend died last month from cancer, or maybe it’s because I work in a church with humans, you and your friends and me and mine, who experience great pain and make mistakes, or maybe it’s just the change in weather, but recently I have been impressed by the realization that we get one life. One. And I have been reminded that Jesus Christ came to earth not to toss us a rulebook and give a good luck nod, he came so that we may have life and have it more abundantly.
My former pastor and friend who died several years ago used to close our Sunday morning service with the same benediction every week: Love God, embrace beauty and live life to the fullest.” That was what he reminded us to do, who he reminded us to be every week. And if you haven’t experienced the deliverance that comes when you encounter the divine, if you don’t feel the freedom that comes in a connectedness to Christ, if living life to the fullest isn’t even on your radar screen, the I have a message for you:
You have one life.
One.
And God came to earth to make sure you get to live that one life abundantly.
When the psalmist figured that out, he took the cup that Christ offered to the disciples 900 years later (and still offers to us today), he took that cup of salvation and drank from it. He publicly declared his affection for God, just as 6 people here at FBC will do when they are baptized this upcoming Easter Sunday. And he lived a life of Thanksgiving.
We have the same opportunity. We too can become servants not to money or alcohol or bitterness or sex or our jobs or anything else that lures us to the edge of self-loathing or a self-destructing life. Rather, we can become servants to the Life Giver. To the one who lived and died and washed our feet.
“I call upon God…. I lift up the cup of salvation… I become God’s servant… I pay my vows to the LORD in the presence of all the people… I offer a thanksgiving sacrifice.”
“I wash your feet and you also ought to wash one another’s feet.”
You have one life.
One.
Love God. Embrace Beauty. And live life to the fullest.
Amen.
You have one life.
One.
“I love the LORD, because he has heard my voice and my supplications. Because he inclined his ear to me, therefore I will call on God as long as I live.”
You have one life.
One.
“What shall I return to the LORD for all his bounty to me?”
You have one life.
One.
I asked the youth several weeks ago at Encounter on a Wednesday night what they would choose to do vocationally if they had a million dollars but were required to work a job nonetheless.
I received a spectrum of answers.
“I’d be a trash man.” No you wouldn’t. “Alright, I’d be a carney!” Fine.
“I’d sell Dr. Pepper.”
“I’d be a fortune teller.”
Interesting answers. Some of the responses were a little more believable though, and actually inspiring.
“I’d be a teacher.” Isn’t that what you want to be now? “Yes, it’s what I want to do.” Good for you.
“I’d be a zoologist.” Really!
“I’d still be a youth minister,” said Kevin.
The community writing the Psalms responded to a similar defining question. They described God as the one who loosed their bonds. God untied the cords binding them, and set them free. Once set free, the community in the Psalms chose to give back. They chose to drink from the cup of salvation, publicly declare their devotion to God and offer a sacrifice of thanksgiving.
You have one life. One. What will you do with it?
When we turn to the gospel, to the night Jesus took his cup and gave it to his disciples to drink, took his bread and gave it to them to eat, he did something else. He washed their feet.
He bent low to the ground, crawling off his comfy cushion. On all fours he crawled one by one to the disciples and sitting back on his haunches, he dipped the cleansing cloth into the water basin. He held it to their dirty, cracked, calloused, dust-painted feet and wiped, scrubbed, washed their feet. He performed a servant’s job. Out of his devotion for his disciples, he chose to serve them, do the dirty work so they would be clean.
The foot washing was symbolic of Jesus’ whole ministry. He spent most of his time healing and affirming and loving the children of God, but this foot washing was literal too. As if touching their leprous sores and feeding their crying children and healing their contagious parents and hearing out their ego-centric questions and loving the obnoxiously unlovable people of this world that you and I encounter on a daily basis - people that you and I go to work with or worse yet, for, and sit beside at PTA meetings and sit behind in rush hour traffic, all these obnoxiously unlovable people of which each of us is one… as if that were not enough, he washed his disciples’ feet too.
He gave his life, and he also washed their feet. That’s what Jesus chose to do with his one life here on earth.
And I wonder if perhaps we couldn’t see the worth in each other the way Jesus saw the worth in us. I wonder if we couldn’t spend a little time improving our world for the greater good. I wonder if we couldn’t do what we really want to in life – fully be the children of God we are called to be – unique and beautiful and gifted and flawed and God’s.
You have one life.
One.
I read the other day the letter that the man who gunned down the people at New Life Church in Colorado Springs wrote and left in his car. Angry, confused and frustrated by hypocritical Christians and a quiet God, he took out his angst on a church and killed four people in the process.
He wrote, “I’ve heard good things about what Jesus can do, yet everywhere I go in Christianity, all the Christians I meet or see are miserable, angry, selfish, hypocritical, proud, power-hungry, abusive, uncaring, confused, lustful.”
These are not words I would use to describe my Christ, and truthfully they are not words I’d like to describe his followers, his disciples, his people, me and my community, the community of the Saints.
But that’s what Matthew Murray wrote.
I hope that when I discover that I have been set free by God, that I have one life to live fully and abundantly, I won’t choose to embody any of the repulsive qualities Matthew Murray ascribes to followers of Christ.
And yet, I will. I’m human. I screw up. All those Christians he observed and learned to distrust were humans. He was human when he opened fire on a church ending four lives and then killed himself.
Only human.
“I call upon God…. I lift up the cup of salvation… I become God’s servant… I pay my vows to the LORD in the presence of all the people… I offer a thanksgiving sacrifice.”
“I wash your feet and you also ought to wash one another’s feet.”
You have one life. One. What will you choose to do with it?
See, your life goes far beyond what job you have, what vocation you choose - million dollars or not. Your one life and my one life include the jobs we have but more importantly, our life really is how we do those jobs. Life is about attitudes and worldviews. It’s about how we treat the people we love and how we treat the people we hate. It’s about eliminating a vocabulary of hate.
Maybe it’s because I’m turning thirty in May or maybe it’s because my ex-boyfriend died last month from cancer, or maybe it’s because I work in a church with humans, you and your friends and me and mine, who experience great pain and make mistakes, or maybe it’s just the change in weather, but recently I have been impressed by the realization that we get one life. One. And I have been reminded that Jesus Christ came to earth not to toss us a rulebook and give a good luck nod, he came so that we may have life and have it more abundantly.
My former pastor and friend who died several years ago used to close our Sunday morning service with the same benediction every week: Love God, embrace beauty and live life to the fullest.” That was what he reminded us to do, who he reminded us to be every week. And if you haven’t experienced the deliverance that comes when you encounter the divine, if you don’t feel the freedom that comes in a connectedness to Christ, if living life to the fullest isn’t even on your radar screen, the I have a message for you:
You have one life.
One.
And God came to earth to make sure you get to live that one life abundantly.
When the psalmist figured that out, he took the cup that Christ offered to the disciples 900 years later (and still offers to us today), he took that cup of salvation and drank from it. He publicly declared his affection for God, just as 6 people here at FBC will do when they are baptized this upcoming Easter Sunday. And he lived a life of Thanksgiving.
We have the same opportunity. We too can become servants not to money or alcohol or bitterness or sex or our jobs or anything else that lures us to the edge of self-loathing or a self-destructing life. Rather, we can become servants to the Life Giver. To the one who lived and died and washed our feet.
“I call upon God…. I lift up the cup of salvation… I become God’s servant… I pay my vows to the LORD in the presence of all the people… I offer a thanksgiving sacrifice.”
“I wash your feet and you also ought to wash one another’s feet.”
You have one life.
One.
Love God. Embrace Beauty. And live life to the fullest.
Amen.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
It Happened To My Cat
So everyone's received those funny emails of cats who are wet or have horrible haircuts, etc. I always kind of wondered if they were photoshopped or something. Well, last week I discovered they were real.
.jpg)
Poor Zorba had mats on her two hindquarters. When I took him to the vet just to have them check to make sure Zorba didn't have some major, awful, horrible disease, they said that I could try and cut them out myself, but knowing Zorba's history (I got bit, four incision marks on my wrist trying to cut one mat out earlier in the week), they offered to cut them out for me. Except that some of the mats were so bad that they would need to shave them off. "Zorba will look really bad if we do this though," Dr. B said. "Have you ever heard of a Lion Cut?"
Well, I hadn't but I could imagine.
Suggesting that he would look much "better" with a Lion Cut than with huge bald spots, I conceeded to the shave.
When we got home, Potter puffed up all his fur and hissed and spat. Janie began jumping and racing and chasing Zorba. They thought I had brought home a new cat...
Truthfully, Zorba is really soft now, and one can't help but try and pet him. My new roommate has been trying to refrain, knowing the potential ramifications. but it's hard. He's just so cute...
.jpg)
Poor Zorba had mats on her two hindquarters. When I took him to the vet just to have them check to make sure Zorba didn't have some major, awful, horrible disease, they said that I could try and cut them out myself, but knowing Zorba's history (I got bit, four incision marks on my wrist trying to cut one mat out earlier in the week), they offered to cut them out for me. Except that some of the mats were so bad that they would need to shave them off. "Zorba will look really bad if we do this though," Dr. B said. "Have you ever heard of a Lion Cut?"
Well, I hadn't but I could imagine.
Suggesting that he would look much "better" with a Lion Cut than with huge bald spots, I conceeded to the shave.
When we got home, Potter puffed up all his fur and hissed and spat. Janie began jumping and racing and chasing Zorba. They thought I had brought home a new cat...
Truthfully, Zorba is really soft now, and one can't help but try and pet him. My new roommate has been trying to refrain, knowing the potential ramifications. but it's hard. He's just so cute...
Saturday, March 08, 2008
RIP Mike Rudd
My ex-boyfriend died.
I feel bad writing this because I'm not seeking sympathy or attention. There are people hurting more than me and i know that. I just need to process.
Process.
I deleted pictures of him off my computer last year, so I have nothing to look at.
Except two pieces of art. He was a photographer. I have one of his pictures framed in the back bedroom. A picture he printed and gave to me. Another one was buried underneath a pile of papers that I sorted through today.
Mike is buried underground.
With Kyle, and Radley and my grandparents. And everyone else who's died.
I keep thinking, "But I didn't get to say good-bye!" It's quite frustrating. I wish he had called and told me he was sick. I understand it happened very quickly, but I still wish he would have called.
I've thought of him several times over the past year. Should I send him a Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year's text? No, it might give him the wrong impression.
Might give him the wrong impression.
The impression that I didn't care anymore?
God, this sucks. I didn't get to say good-bye.
He said he believed in God, but he didn't go to church. He said he would go with me on Sundays if I wanted him to, but not to Wednesday nights or any during the week stuff...
He broke up with me because he thought I had argued with his brother about politics. He accused me of being mean. It wasn't true though. We had talked politics, but we hadn't argued. His brother was high and I was probably just being my bold little know-it-all self. But we hadn't argued. I hadn't been mean.
I cried when we broke up even though I knew it was for the best.
My friends said, "Good riddance." And it made me sad.
Just because he wasn't right for me doesn't mean he wasn't right.
He made me laugh. I loved watching movies with him on the couch: Kill Bill and Kill Bill 2. I loved his asparagus speghetti. And his art.
I've always ignored heaven and hell. I don't think they really exist. I hate scare tactics used to make people "love/choose" God. I hate identifying God with something evil: hell. I hate how primitive and human it sounds: if you're good, you get this; if you're bad, you get this. Please. How much more reductionistic can we get? But after I found out about Mike's death, I felt uneasy that I didn't know if he "knew" Christ. Did he say he believed in God, or did he just pacify me? I can't remember. Was he really a Christian? He didn't exactly remind me of one...
Isn't that awful? I judged his lifestyle. I gave into fear. I reduced him to nothing but a decision.
I reduced him to a spirit. A spiritual being.
Are we more than that though? Are we only that?
I can't think anymore. All I can think about is him. How I didn't get to say good-bye. And how I think I'm going to cry...
I feel bad writing this because I'm not seeking sympathy or attention. There are people hurting more than me and i know that. I just need to process.
Process.
I deleted pictures of him off my computer last year, so I have nothing to look at.
Except two pieces of art. He was a photographer. I have one of his pictures framed in the back bedroom. A picture he printed and gave to me. Another one was buried underneath a pile of papers that I sorted through today.
Mike is buried underground.
With Kyle, and Radley and my grandparents. And everyone else who's died.
I keep thinking, "But I didn't get to say good-bye!" It's quite frustrating. I wish he had called and told me he was sick. I understand it happened very quickly, but I still wish he would have called.
I've thought of him several times over the past year. Should I send him a Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year's text? No, it might give him the wrong impression.
Might give him the wrong impression.
The impression that I didn't care anymore?
God, this sucks. I didn't get to say good-bye.
He said he believed in God, but he didn't go to church. He said he would go with me on Sundays if I wanted him to, but not to Wednesday nights or any during the week stuff...
He broke up with me because he thought I had argued with his brother about politics. He accused me of being mean. It wasn't true though. We had talked politics, but we hadn't argued. His brother was high and I was probably just being my bold little know-it-all self. But we hadn't argued. I hadn't been mean.
I cried when we broke up even though I knew it was for the best.
My friends said, "Good riddance." And it made me sad.
Just because he wasn't right for me doesn't mean he wasn't right.
He made me laugh. I loved watching movies with him on the couch: Kill Bill and Kill Bill 2. I loved his asparagus speghetti. And his art.
I've always ignored heaven and hell. I don't think they really exist. I hate scare tactics used to make people "love/choose" God. I hate identifying God with something evil: hell. I hate how primitive and human it sounds: if you're good, you get this; if you're bad, you get this. Please. How much more reductionistic can we get? But after I found out about Mike's death, I felt uneasy that I didn't know if he "knew" Christ. Did he say he believed in God, or did he just pacify me? I can't remember. Was he really a Christian? He didn't exactly remind me of one...
Isn't that awful? I judged his lifestyle. I gave into fear. I reduced him to nothing but a decision.
I reduced him to a spirit. A spiritual being.
Are we more than that though? Are we only that?
I can't think anymore. All I can think about is him. How I didn't get to say good-bye. And how I think I'm going to cry...
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Texas Two-Step
I voted. After much deliberation, I chose one. And I'm not telling you who. :) It was a hard decision, but this morning before I flew out of Austin, I had my new roommate drive me to the polls so my small little voice would be heard.
Except that because I'm in Abilene now and nowhere near my caucus location, it appears I will only get to vote once for this election.
I really don't understand the Texas Two-Step.
Except that because I'm in Abilene now and nowhere near my caucus location, it appears I will only get to vote once for this election.
I really don't understand the Texas Two-Step.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Just Because...
Sometimes I can't think straight. Or I have so much to think about, I can't focus. So I do Sodoku. I have no Sodoku here. (Am I even spelling that right?) Perhaps this will help me fall asleep...
8 Things I'm Passionate About:
1) Jesus
2) the Old Testament
3) social justice
4) the arts
5) equality of the sexes
6) mental health disorders
7) my job
8) my friends
8 Things I Want to do Before I Die:
1) write a book
2) travel to Africa (more central or southern africa)
3) get married and be in a healthy marriage (is that two?)
4) raise children (please note i didn't say Have children)
5) catch up on my scrapbooking
6) be in a professional play or musical
7) preach at a conference
8) go back to France
8 Things I Say Often:
1) Eh?
2) Pop
3) I'm just sayin'.
4) I cannot tell a lie.
5) Rad.
6) That's rude.
7) Pretty princess.
8) You know what I mean?
8 Books I've Read Recently:
1) Watermelon
2) The Trial of Judas Iscariot
3) Doubt
4) Eat, Pray, Live (in the middle of...)
5) Jesus Hopped the A Train
6) New Day Revolution
7) Exodus
8) The Trembling Cup (in the middle of...)
8 Songs I Could Listen to Over and Over:
1) That I Would Be Good
2) Coming Toward
3) On My Own
4) Fire In Babylon
5) Samson
6) Delicate
7) Macy's Day Parade
8) No Need to Argue
8 Things that Attract me to my best friends:
1) laughter
2) honesty and the ability to tell the truth in each other
3) sense of self/ ability to reflect
4) similar interests (music, theatre, spirituality, etc)
5) similar faith
6) care for the world (resourcefulness)
7) intimate knowledge and acceptance
8) non-judgmental
8 Things I'm Passionate About:
1) Jesus
2) the Old Testament
3) social justice
4) the arts
5) equality of the sexes
6) mental health disorders
7) my job
8) my friends
8 Things I Want to do Before I Die:
1) write a book
2) travel to Africa (more central or southern africa)
3) get married and be in a healthy marriage (is that two?)
4) raise children (please note i didn't say Have children)
5) catch up on my scrapbooking
6) be in a professional play or musical
7) preach at a conference
8) go back to France
8 Things I Say Often:
1) Eh?
2) Pop
3) I'm just sayin'.
4) I cannot tell a lie.
5) Rad.
6) That's rude.
7) Pretty princess.
8) You know what I mean?
8 Books I've Read Recently:
1) Watermelon
2) The Trial of Judas Iscariot
3) Doubt
4) Eat, Pray, Live (in the middle of...)
5) Jesus Hopped the A Train
6) New Day Revolution
7) Exodus
8) The Trembling Cup (in the middle of...)
8 Songs I Could Listen to Over and Over:
1) That I Would Be Good
2) Coming Toward
3) On My Own
4) Fire In Babylon
5) Samson
6) Delicate
7) Macy's Day Parade
8) No Need to Argue
8 Things that Attract me to my best friends:
1) laughter
2) honesty and the ability to tell the truth in each other
3) sense of self/ ability to reflect
4) similar interests (music, theatre, spirituality, etc)
5) similar faith
6) care for the world (resourcefulness)
7) intimate knowledge and acceptance
8) non-judgmental
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Good Quotes
Some quotes I've appreciated overhearing this past week...
Presidential Hopeful Hilary Clinton: "I'm returning health care into the hands of the people. I'm giving it to you!"
Voter Scott: "I don't want that responsibility."
A bored republican at a Texas Obama/Clinton debate party initiated this conversation:
Adam: "Look at your wedding pics!"
Amy: "Yeah..."
Adam: "Is this girl reading from the book of 1 Corinthians or Phonecians?"
Amy: "Huh?"
Ann: "Phonecians?!"
Adam: Philistines?
Ann: "You mean Philippians?"
Adam: "Whatever. One of those classic love passages they always read at weddings."
What the...?
Cam: "You know that movie that made everyone cry?"
Frank: "Terms of Endearment?"
Cam: "Yeah."
After reading the grumbling wilderness narratives in Exodus a student said under his breath:
"God should have chosen the Egyptians."
Presidential Hopeful Hilary Clinton: "I'm returning health care into the hands of the people. I'm giving it to you!"
Voter Scott: "I don't want that responsibility."
A bored republican at a Texas Obama/Clinton debate party initiated this conversation:
Adam: "Look at your wedding pics!"
Amy: "Yeah..."
Adam: "Is this girl reading from the book of 1 Corinthians or Phonecians?"
Amy: "Huh?"
Ann: "Phonecians?!"
Adam: Philistines?
Ann: "You mean Philippians?"
Adam: "Whatever. One of those classic love passages they always read at weddings."
What the...?
Cam: "You know that movie that made everyone cry?"
Frank: "Terms of Endearment?"
Cam: "Yeah."
After reading the grumbling wilderness narratives in Exodus a student said under his breath:
"God should have chosen the Egyptians."
Thursday, February 21, 2008
A Parable
A puppy followed me home yesterday.
Janie and I were on our morning walk when a yellow puppy came bounding up to us. After some slobbery kisses to my sweatpants and a menacing growl from Janie, the pup began running up ahead of us and then throwing herself on the ground, on her back right in front of Janie. "I'm submitting to you - please like me!" she cried. But Janie, being her normal snobby, disinterested self, walked right past the dog. Stumbling over her too big paws, the puppy would scramble to her feet, bound down the sidewalk and throw herself on the ground again. A good ten times this happened! I got the giggles. Finally the pup conceeded that she would be getting no love from janie and contented herself to scamper alongside us ALL THE WAY BACK TO MY HOUSE.
"Whatchu doin' wid dat dog?" my neighbors jeered.
"It's following me - I'm not sure where it came from. What should I do?"
"Go home and name it! Youse got yerself a new dog."
Great.
So I took the little thing home and put in it the back yard, gave it water, and gave myself a pep talk. "You cannot keep this puppy, Ann. Puppies have too much energy and have to be potty trained. You don't have time for that."
Janie picked up her toy football, took it to the puppy and set it down in front of her. I about died.
So I put the leash on the puppy and began a walk around the neighborhood, knocking on doors. "Do you recognize this dog?"
No luck.
We returned home and I fed the puppy and pet her and left her and Janie outside to play while Clarence's dog, Bandit, barked mercilessly through the fence. The dirt is always dirtier in some other dog's backyard.
I'm pretty sure the puppy slept most of the night (I can't be sure, I had in my super-duper ear plugs). But when I awoke in the morning, the banging on the doggie door (which I had locked) was unnerving to say the very least. Not to mention that getting in and out of the backyard was quite a task with two hyper dogs egging each other on underneith. Fed, pet and doted on, I left the energetic children in the backyard.
When I came home at lunch, the puppy practically ate the sleeves off my arms and covered my jeans with dirty paw prints. I loved on her anyway but with my legs still throbbing from the morning's puppy scratches, I threw the football to try and get her away from me. She just looked at me with big eyes while Janie took off across the yard, retrieving the toy and triumphantly bringing it back to me. "See, I'm your dog remember? Do you still love me? Remember me. I can fetch! Come on! Love me! Look at me!" It was precious but depressing. Never ask your children to compete at the same task.
After lunch, I headed out the door with Puppy while Janie whimpered from the backyard. I tried to get the leash on her but this proved to be quite a task. She's a rowdy little thing and I couldn't get her to sit still long enough to get the dang leash on.
"Raising children's hard ain't it?" Clarence called from across the bushes. "You named your new dog yet?"
"Puppy, Clarence. The dog's name is Puppy. And it's not my dog. I can't handle another dog."
He shook his head and smiled. Puppy and I started down the block.
"Hey y'all," I called out to some children on Bunche and crossed into the yard where the 11 year olds were scattered, having returned from school and caught in the space between television/isolation and playing outside/community, greeting family/doing homework and greeting the sticks and rocks on the ground/processing the day as only a child can do. I digress. "Y'all recognize this dog."
"Yeah, das Baby D's dog."
"Can you show me where Baby D lives?"
"Hey show her where Baby D lives. Das his dog."
"Ah know dat dog. It got big!"
"If ah found dat dog... I'da kep it!"
"Yeah we'll show ya," two boys finally agreed. "Come on Princess," they spoke to the dog like an old friend.
Princess? Puppy's name is princess? That's a horrible name for this dog. She has way too much energy and gumption to be called Princess. Not my dog though.
We arrived at a house that i had knocked on yesterday but received no response. A little boy named Timothy answered the door.
"Is this your dog hon?" I asked timidly. Had I really found it's owner?
"Yeah, das ma brother's dog."
"Are you parents home?" I just wanted to be sure it was really their dog.
"Yeah, hold on."
He left the doorway and I peered through the opening into a living room with mattresses on the floor, a tv against the wall and everything you can imagine littering the beds and floor area. There was barely room to walk. There were cracks in the walls and giant holes where an elbow or table edge had plastered through the plaster.
A young man came out and agreed that indeed, this was his nephew's dog. He thanked me and I sort of lingered, but then slowly began backing away. "You're welcome. You know I think her collar's too tight," I cautioned. "Um, it's tied with a shoelace and i really think that should be cut off and loosened." No one was listening to me. The dog had run into the neighbor's yard. "Okay, well. Cool. Great then. I'll see ya." I walked back towards my house. I turned to glance one more time at Puppy who was prancing around the yard trying to be corralled unsuccessfully by the children.
I walked a few more yards and felt my stomach drop and my head spin a little, a feeling all too familiar to me over the past few weeks. "Don't cry, Ann. What is up with you? It's a dog. And it's not your dog."
But it was given to me to care for for two days. For two days I fed it and loved it and nurtured it and provided for it and then I handed it back over to it's owners, to the people who dictate it's life, to it's world, and...
"It's a parable," my co-worker Kevin said. We had been discussing the great gift and the tenacity of being ministers, of working with youth and college kids and young adults.
"Yes," I realized. I invest in these people that I love. I feed them and encourage them and teach them and listen to them and love them and pray that somehow in the little time I've got, I make a difference. And then I hand them back to school, college, work, divorces, illnesses, car wrecks, suicides, felonies, drugs, alcohol, greed, addictions, perfectionism... and I pray that when they get back into their crazy homes that they will remember their real Home and that they will make it through.
And I teared up again. At a parable. At a dog and a youth and a college student and an inability to detach.
Janie and I were on our morning walk when a yellow puppy came bounding up to us. After some slobbery kisses to my sweatpants and a menacing growl from Janie, the pup began running up ahead of us and then throwing herself on the ground, on her back right in front of Janie. "I'm submitting to you - please like me!" she cried. But Janie, being her normal snobby, disinterested self, walked right past the dog. Stumbling over her too big paws, the puppy would scramble to her feet, bound down the sidewalk and throw herself on the ground again. A good ten times this happened! I got the giggles. Finally the pup conceeded that she would be getting no love from janie and contented herself to scamper alongside us ALL THE WAY BACK TO MY HOUSE.
"Whatchu doin' wid dat dog?" my neighbors jeered.
"It's following me - I'm not sure where it came from. What should I do?"
"Go home and name it! Youse got yerself a new dog."
Great.
So I took the little thing home and put in it the back yard, gave it water, and gave myself a pep talk. "You cannot keep this puppy, Ann. Puppies have too much energy and have to be potty trained. You don't have time for that."
Janie picked up her toy football, took it to the puppy and set it down in front of her. I about died.
So I put the leash on the puppy and began a walk around the neighborhood, knocking on doors. "Do you recognize this dog?"
No luck.
We returned home and I fed the puppy and pet her and left her and Janie outside to play while Clarence's dog, Bandit, barked mercilessly through the fence. The dirt is always dirtier in some other dog's backyard.
I'm pretty sure the puppy slept most of the night (I can't be sure, I had in my super-duper ear plugs). But when I awoke in the morning, the banging on the doggie door (which I had locked) was unnerving to say the very least. Not to mention that getting in and out of the backyard was quite a task with two hyper dogs egging each other on underneith. Fed, pet and doted on, I left the energetic children in the backyard.
When I came home at lunch, the puppy practically ate the sleeves off my arms and covered my jeans with dirty paw prints. I loved on her anyway but with my legs still throbbing from the morning's puppy scratches, I threw the football to try and get her away from me. She just looked at me with big eyes while Janie took off across the yard, retrieving the toy and triumphantly bringing it back to me. "See, I'm your dog remember? Do you still love me? Remember me. I can fetch! Come on! Love me! Look at me!" It was precious but depressing. Never ask your children to compete at the same task.
After lunch, I headed out the door with Puppy while Janie whimpered from the backyard. I tried to get the leash on her but this proved to be quite a task. She's a rowdy little thing and I couldn't get her to sit still long enough to get the dang leash on.
"Raising children's hard ain't it?" Clarence called from across the bushes. "You named your new dog yet?"
"Puppy, Clarence. The dog's name is Puppy. And it's not my dog. I can't handle another dog."
He shook his head and smiled. Puppy and I started down the block.
"Hey y'all," I called out to some children on Bunche and crossed into the yard where the 11 year olds were scattered, having returned from school and caught in the space between television/isolation and playing outside/community, greeting family/doing homework and greeting the sticks and rocks on the ground/processing the day as only a child can do. I digress. "Y'all recognize this dog."
"Yeah, das Baby D's dog."
"Can you show me where Baby D lives?"
"Hey show her where Baby D lives. Das his dog."
"Ah know dat dog. It got big!"
"If ah found dat dog... I'da kep it!"
"Yeah we'll show ya," two boys finally agreed. "Come on Princess," they spoke to the dog like an old friend.
Princess? Puppy's name is princess? That's a horrible name for this dog. She has way too much energy and gumption to be called Princess. Not my dog though.
We arrived at a house that i had knocked on yesterday but received no response. A little boy named Timothy answered the door.
"Is this your dog hon?" I asked timidly. Had I really found it's owner?
"Yeah, das ma brother's dog."
"Are you parents home?" I just wanted to be sure it was really their dog.
"Yeah, hold on."
He left the doorway and I peered through the opening into a living room with mattresses on the floor, a tv against the wall and everything you can imagine littering the beds and floor area. There was barely room to walk. There were cracks in the walls and giant holes where an elbow or table edge had plastered through the plaster.
A young man came out and agreed that indeed, this was his nephew's dog. He thanked me and I sort of lingered, but then slowly began backing away. "You're welcome. You know I think her collar's too tight," I cautioned. "Um, it's tied with a shoelace and i really think that should be cut off and loosened." No one was listening to me. The dog had run into the neighbor's yard. "Okay, well. Cool. Great then. I'll see ya." I walked back towards my house. I turned to glance one more time at Puppy who was prancing around the yard trying to be corralled unsuccessfully by the children.
I walked a few more yards and felt my stomach drop and my head spin a little, a feeling all too familiar to me over the past few weeks. "Don't cry, Ann. What is up with you? It's a dog. And it's not your dog."
But it was given to me to care for for two days. For two days I fed it and loved it and nurtured it and provided for it and then I handed it back over to it's owners, to the people who dictate it's life, to it's world, and...
"It's a parable," my co-worker Kevin said. We had been discussing the great gift and the tenacity of being ministers, of working with youth and college kids and young adults.
"Yes," I realized. I invest in these people that I love. I feed them and encourage them and teach them and listen to them and love them and pray that somehow in the little time I've got, I make a difference. And then I hand them back to school, college, work, divorces, illnesses, car wrecks, suicides, felonies, drugs, alcohol, greed, addictions, perfectionism... and I pray that when they get back into their crazy homes that they will remember their real Home and that they will make it through.
And I teared up again. At a parable. At a dog and a youth and a college student and an inability to detach.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Saturday, February 09, 2008
This is the world we live in. For everything beautiful to arise, something else must die. Why is it this way? I kill the weeds so the cacti will grow and look beautiful in my front yard garden. I kill so more life will be recogized, will flourish and be more fully beautiful...
My day off was great. Gardening, shopping, cleaning, hanging out, dinner... a phone call. and then it became another unpredictable day. i say another, because such days come frequently enough to be "another" but are so unexpected that they deserve the label of unpredictable. Another, Unpredictable, Day.
And so I pray for healing, fidelity, honesty, humility, courage, discernment and all the other assets one would want when experiencing what I witnessed tonight. and hopefully something will die, and something more beautiful will be reborn.
My day off was great. Gardening, shopping, cleaning, hanging out, dinner... a phone call. and then it became another unpredictable day. i say another, because such days come frequently enough to be "another" but are so unexpected that they deserve the label of unpredictable. Another, Unpredictable, Day.
And so I pray for healing, fidelity, honesty, humility, courage, discernment and all the other assets one would want when experiencing what I witnessed tonight. and hopefully something will die, and something more beautiful will be reborn.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)