Disappointed

So, this past week was a roller coaster of emotions. Emma went back to school. Elizabeth started Kindergarten down the hall from her mom. This is devastating. I am not ready for her to be at real school yet. Elizabeth's teacher is a church member and she told us Liz was a good little student and well-behaved. Madeline starts preschool tomorrow. She spent the week farmed out to friends and church members. She is a funny girl and has everyone completely fooled.

This weekend was supposed to be my third annual Fall Choir Kick-Off and music reading session. We were going to look at our Christmas music and a nice dinner was planned. However, as the week progressed it appeared that we would get the brunt of Tropical Storm Fay. So, we first decided to cancel the dinner. Then, Friday, we decided to cancel the rest. We had several events planned at the church this weekend and all of them went to the dogs. All around us, cities had buckets of rain and high winds. It barely rained here. Saturday, supposedly the "worst" day, we spent at home wondering when the storm would finally get here. It never came. Granted, if we had decided to keep things business as usual, there would have been a major storm. But for some reason, Panama City was spared. I think it is my mother's fault. We have had the quietest hurricane seasons these past three years and I attribute it to my mother's intercession. I just never get to have any fun.


Tomorrow I start my fall class at the community college. Let me tell you, it is a full class. It is interesting for me to have big classes because I never had classes this large when I was teaching in Texas. Even when I taught a semester at Tarrant County College in Arlington, my classroom only held like 24 students and none of my classes at Southwestern were ever bigger than about a dozen (with the exception of my ensemble). It is a much different dynamic having a larger class. It is harder to get to know students and easier for them to blend in.


Several months ago I mentioned reading about a book called Post-Charismatic by Randy McAlpine, an emergent blogger who used to be involved in the Vineyard. Well, I finally got ahold of a copy of the book, harder than usual since it has not been published in the United States. I have read most of it and it has been pretty good. It outlines several of the major reasons people leave the charismatic movement, and for the book's purposes, charismatic includes traditional Pentecostals, charismatics, and Third Wavers. You can look back at what I thought originally about the issues addressed in this book here. One thing I really appreciated about this book was how well McAlpine documented the history of some of the kookiest "doctrines" of charismania, especially his discussion of the Word of Faith, Shepherding, and Latter Rain movements. Some of these things filtered down to me back in the day, but in a VERY distilled manner. One of the funniest things, and also one of the scariest, was the realization that many of the things that are equated with heresy are some Latter Rain teachings that are being proffered by a church not too far from mine.


One thing that I am hugely grateful for, after reading this book, is that I missed a lot of the worst abuses of the charismatic movement by being a part of the Assemblies of God. Despite the things that drove me bonkers about Pentecostalism, at least I was involved in a movement that would stand up to ideas that were heretical and McAlpine mentions this often, citing position papers that the General Council published to combat heretical teachings or spurious thinking. It is odd that as much as I do not miss some of the nuttiness of charismania, sometimes I still miss that old feeling. One thing that has been a significant milestone for me is that, though I still do not come out to everyone I know about being a Pentecostal in recovery, I am beginning to embrace that part of my life again. This has come back to me in a wash all of a sudden. This past week our senior minister's son-in-law was in a horrible motorcycle accident, and I have rarely felt the compulsion to pray, really spiritually pray for anyone in the good ol' fashioned way, since I ventured into this new life.

I am disappointed with myself. Granted, I have really been in a legitimate crisis of faith over these last several years. I have struggled with a spiritual identity crisis and discussed the frustrations of it often on this blog. But is this an excuse to not practice the spiritual disciplines that I know I need to practice? You know: truly spiritual prayer, exercising the gifts of the Spirit, reading the Bible, and meditating on holy things. Sure, I am busy serving in vocational ministry, but I feel like it is not a very spiritual endeavour at times. We do good things, but I worry that I do these things because it is my job and not because they are the things Christians should do. And, as I continue on this path to ordained ministry, I worry that if I do not stem the tide now, there will be no opportunity later. And, since this week I began the application process to go to seminary, I want to make sure I am in the best place spiritually as possible before I start down another academic rabbit hole, another thing to fight for my time.

The likelihood that I will be where I think I need to be soon is not very likely, but at least I am more acutely aware of where I think God wants me to go/be. I want to be right here, but I also want to be me. And I guess that makes me a post-charismatic United Methodist.



That's my Kindergartner there. God love her.

Equal Opportunity Mocking

Here are a couple of videos showing the presidential candidates in their best light. I don't know which one is worse, the one that was made up to be mean or the one that actually happened. No comments are necessary.

Betty Butterfield on Methodists Revisited

One of my favorite videos ever. Hopefully I will be able to pass the test.

Olympic-Style Discipline

So, I have been exhausted the last couple of days. Granted, I have been staying up later watching the Olympics lately, but that really does not seem to account for my fit of fatigue. I am not going to obsess about it, but I am sure that part of my need for sleep has been due to some extra stressors that I have been dealing with lately. Nothing big, just the regular stuff that gets me uptight about the rest of the year. Planning for Christmas, using new worship software and converting our existing files, gearing myself up for children's music, and so on. It could also be that I have had something every night for the last three weeks straight (maybe not really, but it feels like that). Thankfully, I only have a wedding this weekend (and possibly a funeral, hurray!) and no more on the schedule for more than a month.

Speaking of the Olympics. There has been some talk this time around about how the process for training gymnasts has really changed over the years, especially in the former or current communist nations. Back in the day, they would find children who were possibly gifted and take them away from their parents and train them to be champions. They did this in the Soviet Union and still do so in China. One comment I heard was that this system may not be in place anywhere when the next Olympics takes place in 2012.

OK, so what is the point. This very disciplined system of training produced results. Think about how often the Soviets won. They were a power house in most events. The only time the Americans had a chance in gymnastics was the one year the Soviets boycotted the Olympics. And this year, the Chinese have been dominant in most areas, but especially in gymnastics, because their honor is on the line and they have an innate drive to win. You can see it in their eyes. Determination to see it through to the end.

I, like all children who grew up during the Cold War, had a distinct fear of the Soviets because they might nuke us. And this fear filtered down to Olympic events as well. They always seemed so prepared, and that frightened me for my country because I hoped we would be as prepared if the time came to meet them head on. But besides this fear, I had a sense of awe at their level of discipline. What they were doing meant something to these people. It was all they had.

But this is rarely the case in America. Nobody takes children away to train to be Olympic athletes, thank God. And, after the Olympics, the athletes go back to their normal lives. Granted, their normal lives include intense training, but it is never all that they do. Even Michael Phelps and his coach have stated they will be taking several months off from training. I think we live such multi-faceted lives in this country that very few of us ever commit so much to one thing. "I have a life" people say in order to excuse their inability to excel or their unwillingness to commit to what it will take to be the very best.

Now how does this "I have a life" mentality affect the way we serve God? Doesn't it have a way of excusing our inability to commit all we have to God? Is it not a way of excusing us from making disciples and living out the Great Commission? Well, I have a life and I cannot stop everything and do that. I guess I am wondering if we the Church could learn to be disciplined would there be more disciples? Should we consider the possibility that the ascetics of long ago were right in their willingness to die to self and surrender all they had and spend all their time with God? Granted, I do not want to sit atop a platform on a pole in the desert for years and have people come out to look at me and marvel at my spiritual discipline, or like St. Anthony, lock myself in a tomb and have people bring me food so I can stay away from the devil's torment. So then, how do we fully commit to the spiritual disciplines without becoming completely unaware of our culture?

I Like the Devil as Much as the Next Evangelical Poster Child

So I spent a good bit of the day waiting for the air conditioning folks to arrive at my house to take my money. They were nice about it and they were not here very long. They gave me a good education about heat pumps and we are back to a cool house once again.

Speaking of hot . . .

I read this interesting article by Mary Jacobs at the United Methodist Portal about how United Methodists view Satan and evil in the world. Now, I want to make it clear this is a general view and not one held by all members of the United Methodist Church. My church, for one, is more conservative and most of the folks tend to believe in old Lucifer. I thought it was funny that one of the reasons Methodists refrain from discussing the Devil and the personification of evil is that they do not want to sound too much like Baptists.

Here is a short excerpt from Ms. Jacobs' article:

Many United Methodists, for instance, gasped during the 2008 General Conference when an African delegate on the floor argued that homosexuality was "of the devil."

It wasn’t just his position on homosexuality that drew the offended gasps, says Jerry Walls, who taught philosophy of religion for 21 years at Asbury Theological Seminary. Adding the devil to the conversation made it a “double offense” in the minds of some delegates. “Bringing up the supernatural reality of Satan is enough to make a typical United Methodist go into conniptions,” he said.

Of course, the reality of Satan and the forces of evil tend to be much stronger in the third world, the next Christendom. My problem with most evangelical stances on Satan is that they use him as a whipping boy for everything that goes wrong in the world or in their lives. Truth is I don't think I need the devil to mess my life up and I need to take my share of the blame for the things I do of my own free will and not put them all on the great-horned beast.div>

So, what do you think about the Devil? Is he at work in your life?

Overly Judgmental

This is really creepy. But, I thought this was an interesting video dealing with our own misconceptions about people. You know, the whole "don't judge a book by its cover" idea.

Town Pariah

I have been wondering about this for some time, but today this thought came flooding back to me when I ran into a person I did not expect to see at church. "Do difficult people know they are difficult?" Or, add any other adjective: needy, obtuse, whatever. The question is do they know they cause this reaction in other people that makes one want to run the other way when they come a-callin'?

I always end up with these folks attaching themselves to me. Again, I do not think it is because I am all that approachable, I just have a gift (curse). And, truth be told, there are very few people in the world that make me want to go the other way or pretend to have diarrhea or typhus when they come to visit me. But one of them showed up today. I know we are supposed to love everyone, but in all honesty all I wanted to do was not get trapped in my office for an hour after church was over. It ended up being only a few minutes, thankfully. I feel bad that I feel this way, especially considering what line of work I am in. I feel compassion for this person, as I would for anyone who has done so many foolish, unthinking things to make them the town pariah. I just wonder if they know that's what they are? And, part of me has very little patience for someone who cannot take social cues, like body language, moving closer to the door, stepping into the hall, calling out in anguish . . . I guess sometimes when we become that needy, our ability to discern social cues goes out the window in deference to our need to be accepted and loved. Sad. The last conversation I had with this person was pretty blunt and I think it was appreciated. Speaking the truth in love is a slippery slope.

With that in mind, I wonder if I might not have the makings of a town pariah myself. I usually keep my political thoughts to myself, unless someone asks me directly (and even then, I will change the subject). My feeling is that religion and politics should not mix all that much in my public life, especially since I work at a church. But, from time to time, certain political comments are made at the church like everyone in the room agrees. There is this unwritten, unsaid something that makes us believe that because we are all believers in Jesus, we think the same about everything else. Sometimes, in my more paranoid times, I feel less than comfortable when these comments are made. We like to say that here in America everyone has the right to their own opinions, just as long as they coalesce with mine or those of the larger group. I think for the time being I will keep my mouth shut, I will avoid pariah country and I definitely won't put that "Bay Democrats" bumper sticker on my SUV. I have this fear of slashed tires in the Republican nest, uh, enclave. Just kidding. I love Republicans. I am married to one.

In other news:

As of last Wednesday my wife and I have been married fourteen years. I guess this makes us adolescent marrieds or something. We did almost nothing to celebrate this milestone. That day we both were back to our normal schedules of school and choir rehearsals and such. She gave me a card. I gave her a card that I had glued in a personal message. It must have been good because she told me I could work for Hallmark. Maybe this was not a compliment. Anyway, Friday evening I had a wedding rehearsal (for which I sang four songs) and the girls had a sleepover party so after my rehearsal ended, we went to Panama City Beach to Captain Anderson's restaurant. We had heard wonderful things about this restaurant since we moved to Panama City and so I kind of thought it would be nice. Turns out was just expensive. We had a gift card that we have been meaning to use for almost a year now but we never seemed to have the opportunity to go. I forget we live in a touristy place, and the restaurant was definitely touristy. But, to be fair, the food was very good and it was nice to be somewhere without three children in tow. The irony of it all is that we were seated at a nice table for two and then a family with a crying baby was seated next to us. Every time we go out by ourselves this happens.

Well, I have to go. It appears that our air conditioning is not working in our house. I am not ready to pass out yet, but I think Dick Cheney may be at my door.

UPDATE: I feel terrible. I saw this person again today and they told me how much they enjoyed talking to me and how easy it was to just be themselves. And, worst of all, that they always feel better after talking to me, even when I am brutally honest. I am the worst sinner ever. Maybe I should be thankful that God works through me when I really don't want Him to.

Church Fathers, Part 2

Here are a few more quotes from the Church Fathers on pertinent spiritual topics:

"Now what is a spiritual whole burnt offering? It is 'the sacrifice of praise.' In what place do we offer it? In the Holy Spirit. Where have we learned this? From the Lord Himself in the words, 'The true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth.' This place Jacob saw, and said: 'The Lord is in this place.' It follows that the Spirit is truly the place for all saints, and the saint is the proper place for the Spirit, offering himself as he does for the indwelling of God, and is called God's temple." Basil the Great (ca. 330-379 C. E.)

"What does the phrase mean, 'The word is near you'? It means, 'It is easy.' For in your heart and on your tongue is your salvation. There is no long journey to go on, no seas to sail over, no mountains to climb, to get saved. But if you be not minded to cross so much as the threshold, you may even be saved while you sit at home. For 'in your mouth and heart' is the source of salvation. On another score, Paul also makes the word of faith easy, and says, 'God raised Him from the dead.' For just reflect upon the worthiness of the Worker, and you will no longer see any difficulty in the thing." John Chrysostom (ca. 347-407 C. E.)

"Let us draw from the fountain of the garden [of Scripture] continual and pure waters springing up to eternal life. Here let us be in luxury, let us revel to the full, for the Scriptures possess inexhaustible grace. But if we are able to pluck anything profitable from outside sources, there is nothing to forbid that." John Damascene (ca. 676-749 C. E.)

"After this, we say: 'Hallowed be thy name,' not that we wish for God to be hallowed by our prayers, but to beseech Him that His name be hallowed in us. But by whom is God sanctified, since He Himself sanctifies? Well, because He says: 'Be ye holy, even as I am holy,' we ask and entreat, that we who were sanctified in baptism may continue in that which we have begun to be." St. Cyprian of Carthage (died 258 C. E.)

Third Grade Memories

This week marks Misty's re-entry into the workforce. She has already started getting her classroom ready for her students to come back officially in just under two weeks. This year Emma will be in the third grade. I am not ready to talk about the fact that Elizabeth will be going to Kindergarten this fall and will not be accompanying me to the church each morning anymore. At least I still have one baby to take with me, but I am afraid she will throw a fit everyday for months because she will no longer have a sister to play with in the afternoons.

I got to thinking about my experience as a third grader. Since I went to a Christian school, my experience was quite different than what Emma's will be like. Granted, she goes to a public school that acts like a private school, but it is really different than mine, especially third grade. Over the course of my life at Grace Christian Academy, all of my teachers were evangelicals, usually Baptist or Assemblies of God and we had Bible class as part of our curriculum in every grade. I think this was one of the most significant aspects of my education, and likely the most thorough part as well. I will leave that one alone.

Back to third grade. My class was small and, between the two third grade classes it seems like there were no new students in either class, until about halfway through the school year, a new boy named Charles Fitzpatrick joined our class. This was kind of a coup, we thought, to get the new kid. He was about eight feet tall in comparison to the rest of us, and since we all knew each other forever, he was much more interesting than any of us. I remember we had this classroom in the back of the church. It was like a maze trying to get back there. There have been times since that I have had recurring dreams of walking through the church at night. Frightening. Anyway, my teacher, Mrs. Welch, was a chariskook. I really liked her and she tried to teach me not to rely on myself but to trust in the Lord. I guess she thought I had too much anxiety and was overworking myself. Seems like some things never change. I will never forget some of the things we did that year. I had a big birthday party at Showbiz Pizza and Charles Fitzpatrick stayed way too long because his mom had given him $10 for tokens and he was going to spend every one of them. We "wrote" a book about George Washington. We wrote a play about the Pilgrims and presented it. We made a plaster relief map of the Holy Land.

I will never forget that Mrs. Welch was the first person to tell us that if we did not behave we would suffer the consequences. I was scared to find out what those were. She was a crier, and really seemed to think we just might end up in hell if she did not intervene on our behalf. When asked if President Carter was a Christian, she replied: "Well, I think he is a carnal Christian." The worst possible fate, carnal. But Mrs. Welch also helped me get the first full-length copy of the Bible I ever had. It was one of those cheap imitation leather award Bibles. And it was the King James Version, of course. Granted, the NIV had only been available for a couple of years at that time and nobody used it. I loved that Bible. I used the map in the back to help make my relief map of the Holy Land.

I no longer have either, the map or the Bible, but I have my weirdly skewed memories. When I think about my growing up, it is hard to explain some of the odd things that occurred that we all thought were just a part of normal life. Prayer in class, sometimes followed by a child vomiting in the classroom. Lots of Bible talk, even end times talk. Scared me to death. It is a wonder that I ended up sane at all.

Truth is I am grateful for most of it, even the wacky stuff, because it set me up to look at the world in a certain way. I may not completely agree with that way of thought anymore, but it grounded me to an extent that I don't think I would have had if I had been somewhere else. It may not have been the most well-rounded educational environment, and I wish I had had more opportunities for artistic development in school (including, God forbid, secular music) rather than having to seek these opportunities elsewhere, but at the very least I knew the Bible when I left school. It prepared me to want more of the Word and to want to read it. By the time I graduated from high school I had already read the Bible through in its entirety four times.

So, thank you, Mrs. Welch, for guiding me on the path that has led me to where I am now. Oh God, I hope that does not make me carnal. Well, maybe just a little bit will be okay.

Peace.

A Silver Foot in His Mouth?

I know this was about George Bush 41, but it kind of fits 43 if you ask me.

Satan is Everywhere

I think we should go back to backward masking. The devil has not had much to do since we stopped playing LPs. Maybe Paul really is dead?

Thoughts from the Church Fathers

One of the best things about my latest decision to read through the Bible is that the commentary is from an Orthodox perspective, meaning that most of the comments are from the Church Fathers.

John Cassian (ca. 360-435 C. E.) on Free Will:

"And by this testimony we can clearly see what we ought to ascribe to free will, and what to the design and daily assistance of the Lord, that it belongs to divine grace to give us opportunities of salvation and prosperous undertakings and victory; but that it is ours to follow up the blessings God gives us with either earnestness or indifference."

Athanasius the Great (ca. 293-373 C. E.) on our offerings to God:

"When we make a return we give nothing of our own, but those things which we have before received from Christ, this being especially of His grace, that He should require, as from us, His own gifts. He bears witness to this in Numbers when He says: 'My gifts, My presents, My burnt offerings, you shall take care to offer Me as a sweet aroma in my feasts.' That is, those things you give Me are yours, as having received them from Me, but they are the gifts of God. Let us offer to the Lord every virtue, and that true holiness which is in Him, and in piety let us keep the feast to Him with those things He hallowed for us."

John Chrysostom (ca. 347-407 C. E.) on loving God:

"God needs nothing we have to give Him, and this especially proves sincere love, when one who needs nothing and is not in any necessity, does everything for the sake of being loved by us. So when He bids you to love Him, He then most of all shows He loves you. For nothing secures our salvation more than loving Him."

Running the Gauntlet

This week has been a series of hurdles, although they have been amazingly positive.

After getting through the wedding last weekend, the first of three over four weeks, church went as usual. Truth is I have been feeling much better about our contemporary services lately. There have been more people in attendance and it seems like I am feeling more of that old feeling when I used to lead worship back in the day. Again, maybe it is just I am more aware of His presence in the services lately. Also, it could be I have been spending more time reading the Bible lately. It has a way of making us more acutely aware of our spiritual surroundings. I probably ought to be ashamed that I have not been as diligent as I should be in prayer and Scripture study, but I am not really. But, we do what we can, and I am feeling more compelled to do so as I continue in this journey toward ordination.

Speaking of ordination, I had two meetings this week that were significant to this process. The first was an impromptu meeting with my candidacy mentor on Monday morning. It had been several weeks since I had met with her and I had some questions and we needed to look over my psychological evaluation. She was very supportive and told me I likely would not need to take all the courses I thought I would have to take. I still have to confirm this, but it is looking like I will only need to take about 5 classes. This is a good thing. Although I like the book learning, I am still not convinced I want to spend several more years of my life in school. Who can say?

I also had to meet with our Staff Parish Relations Committee at the church to receive their approval. Truth is I kind of missed this step and needed to have it done before I could go much further in the process. I was not exactly thrilled about this Tuesday evening meeting, but it was a wonderfully affirming get together. Everybody seemed to be pleased with me and with my work and decision to pursue ordination. That was nice, especially when you consider that I basically work for them and if they had not been in favor of my entering ordained ministry, it might call into question what they think of my performance in my current churchly duties. Anyway, with that hurdle down, I now get to prepare to meet the District Committee on Ordained Ministry in early September to be certified as a candidate. Once I pass this process, I will begin taking classes, but here is the kicker, since I already have a Masters degree and some hours toward my basic graduate theological studies, I will already have all the requirements to become a probationary deacon. So, it is conceivable that in about three years, I can be completely finished with this process and be deaconing away.

The question was put to me: What will change in your ministry once you are ordained? And this is a good one and hard for me to answer, especially on this side of the equation. So, I will leave it for another day.

My class at the community college ended this week. I liked the class quite a bit. It was probably my favorite in a good while. Fun, no pressure, and nobody to be. It looks like my class for the fall has made, so I will be teaching a whole new slew of children, and they are mostly children, considering they were all born around 1990. People keep popping up from the past to remind me that I am only 2 years from my 20 year high school reunion.

Thursday I had what might be the worst experience of my life this week. A few weeks ago, Misty signed up for a $500 gift card at the Home Depot. What she did not know was that in order to qualify for the prize, you had to set up a time to let this nut from a water softening company come test the water at your house and present their system. Well, he said it would be about 45 minutes. It was like going through the time share spiel all over again. Both of us had to be there or he would have to come back another time. Not thrilled to say the least. Granted, we will get a whopping $20 gift card for our trouble. I make a good bit more than that an hour when I teach privately, so I was really not happy to sit there for over an hour and a half for a measly $20. We told the guy "no sale" and then he gave us a better deal and we said "no sale." One more time, and I told him to leave and respect our time. He left. I hate confrontations, especially in my own home. Later that night, we went to Hobby Lobby to get some things to help organize our new coin collection that Misty's dad gave us when the girls went back to Texas in June. We bought I nice trunk and some other coin organizers and got to work on the collection. It was kind of fun and reminded me of doing the same kinds of things with my father when I was a child. We would go to coin stores, flea markets, and other such places in pursuit of nerdy delight. It is funny that we would go to these flea markets that also sold bongs and other drug paraphernalia and I was blissfully ignorant of their presence. I probably would have tried to cast the devil out of them. Dear God I was uptight.

So, Friday we slept late and took a trip to Destin. We stopped for lunch at P F Chang's. Very happy. I got a coupon in the mail so we went to the Polo store and I bought a couple of things. The girls got some shoes. We went to Target and then to Angelo's Steak Pit (I love saying that) for dinner. It was a good way to spend a rainy Friday. Hopefully we will have some sunnier weather tomorrow so we can go to the beach. This is our last weekend before Misty starts back to work and I have weddings and other such events each weekend for the next month, so we want to make the most of it.

And last but not least, I started running again this week and I have been very diligent so far. I was needing to start back for some time. I think I gained a few pounds over the summer and I want to make sure that I do not allow myself to get to far gone. It is my best trick, getting fat. The good thing is that I can still wear all of my thinner clothes which is nice. And, even better, I have been able to stay pretty close to the same weight for over 18 months. Sadly, this is probably the longest I have had weight stability for that long. But, besides all this, within the next year I will need to have a real physical examination and I would rather be on the lower end of the scale than the higher end when I go to the doctor. I want my baseline to be as low as possible for me. My mental health is much better when I am running, I should remind myself of this when I fall off the wagon. Or maybe someone else should remind me . . .

In Remembrance

Well, this week has been one of those weeks filled with weird occurrences and other wildly unexplainable phenomena. It also marks several anniversaries.

So, I started out the week driving around a Chevy Aveo since my car was being repaired. It was a clown car. Wednesday evening I got my SUV back and all is well. It was quick and mostly painless and I did not have to pay for any repairs. Hallelujah! Thank God the boy who hit me had good insurance.

It is official. I am now a proud, card-carrying member of the Democratic Party. Yes, I am probably going to hell now. And, no, it is not because I am an Obamaite that I joined up. I just decided to give the other side a chance for a while. I figure, I had been a Republican since before I could vote and was registered as one for 18 years, so it was time for a change, a change that I can believe in. Speaking of Obama, I read his first book Dreams from my Father this past week and it was pretty impressive. He has had a wild ride of a life with many thought-provoking moments.

I am learning at least academically what the black experience in America is like. I can never understand it as they do, but I am beginning to be more aware of the inequities that exist for African Americans. And, no matter what white folks say about everybody having the same opportunities if they just apply themselves and try hard, this is not completely true. Nobody looks at me when I go into a store and wonders whether or not I will rob them. My peer group encouraged good grades and success in school and this is usually untrue for many African Americans, especially men. God forbid anyone "acts white."

As far as memories go ~

This week marks my second anniversary in the blogosphere. My readership has skyrocketed over the last few months. I mean, golly, I think I have five readers now.

This week marks the celebration of the 20th anniversary of a youth ministry group I was a part of back in the 80s, Praisong. In some ways I wish I could be there in Oklahoma City to celebrate with the old folks who were a part of it in those early days, some of whom I actually still keep in contact with. I was there for the tenth anniversary, but I was also in a different place in my life then. I wonder what they might think of my change of life. But I do recall a moment with one of the founders in which she questioned then whether or not I might end up in places that most young Pentecostals might not want to go. Maybe she was a little prophetic.

This is also the week that I remember my mother-in-law's sudden death in 2002. It is hard to believe it has been six years since this happened, but Elizabeth was not even born yet. This is still one of the most horrific experiences of my life. I had never really lost anyone close to me, let alone in a sudden manner. None of us had any time to deal with her death. She was just gone. I have never grieved over anyone that much, and I wonder if I will ever again. It was as if I grieved for myself, for my wife and for our children who would never know a grandmother. Even when my grandmother died the next year, the loss of whom I thought might take me over the edge just a few years before, did not affect me in the same way. It is still amazing to me how much our lives have changed since that day. Unfortunately, the day she was buried was also my mother's birthday, so each year as I celebrate one I am reminded of the loss of another.

And finally, memories of my home church in Oklahoma City were at the forefront of my thoughts just yesterday as a crane lifting the steeple for the new church building toppled over onto the car of a man watching the festivities and killed him. He was the father of one of our former music ministers who was very influential in my early musical life. I grieve for the church, a church that is moving to a new location after many years, looking for a fresh start. I grieve for this family who lost so much in such a bizarre way. You can read about the accident here.

Tomorrow I have a wedding. It will be interesting. . .

Peace.

P. S.: I thought it was tacky, but someone stole Barack Obama's prayer from the cracks in the Western Wall when he visited Jerusalem this last week and published it. Ever the nosy rosy, here's a look.

News Roll, Monday July 21, 2008

You know, it is interesting how things turn out. I have had this whole struggle over the last few years with my spiritual identity, dealing with the perceived fall out over my decision to entire a new phase in my spiritual journey. Most people have been pleased with my decision or have given it absolutely no thought whatsoever. I guess it was a bigger deal to me than it was to anybody else. I guess it would have to be. My "therapist" brought out an interesting thought that I view a lot of things as failures that most people would view as just part of being human. He also said that I should be careful of perceived demons as opposed to real issues. I am working on this one. It was good to hear this from a professional counselor though.

So, I decided that I would read my Orthodox Study Bible the rest of this year. Well, I can tell you that they like their liturgy because the study notes on Leviticus are the longest I have ever seen in a study Bible. I mean, this was a book that I would gloss over each time I read through the Bible. I mean, I did actually read it each time, but I was not that interested in leprosy or menstrual cycles. Funny how they find Christ in all of the tedium. I think I could learn something from the Orthodox. To be able to find Jesus in the midst of seemingly unending rules. It was interesting that one study note said something like: "There are people who think liturgy is dead, but how can the work of the people be dead? It is only people who allow themselves to grow cold to the work within their own lives."

Sunday was good. I hardly slept Saturday night because Madeline came in about midnight and decided to sleep all over the bed as only an almost 3-year old can. But, I thought it was one of our better Sundays lately, especially the middle service. I hope the congregation is understanding this, but the Holy Spirit has been showing up to these services lately in a way that he may not have been until recently. I hope they sense the change. Maybe it is just that I am more aware of it, or that I am not as worried about what people might think anymore.

The latest news on my sad SUV ~ I took it today to have it repaired and a young woman from the Enterprise car rental place came to pick me up at the body shop. She was nice. I found out she was a member of another United Methodist congregation in the area, but that she had grown up at my church. Funny. I also found out that her mother drives her crazy and she is thinking about moving back to Maryland where she spent a few years after college. Everyone tells me everything. I am just glad that the car was not terribly damaged and I will have it back in a couple of days. The only bad thing is they put me in a compact car that reminds me of the one that hit me. No nightmares, just not used to sitting so low to the ground in a tin can.

More thoughts to come. I am waiting on a prospective student who will be singing on a cruise ship for ten months and needs a vocal coach for a few weeks before she ships out. I just keep thinking about the Love Boat. . .

Boring Was Fine

So, I made the cardinal mistake this week of telling my mother in an email that everything was fine, kind of boring really. Well, that was Tuesday. Later that afternoon, I decided to make a trip to Borders because the local Books-A-Million did not have what I was looking for. Now Borders is about 40 minutes from our house across the Hathaway Bridge that connects Panama City with Panama City Beach. Now, understand, this is not usually a story at all, but the bridge is the only way to get from point A to point B. What I did not realize was I was almost out of gas. So, I get out to Borders and it was a waste of time. So I head back towards home get to the bridge, see a lot of traffic, and find that I have almost no gas and there is no turning back. Our traffic here is a joke compared with most places, but our big bridge can cause some major frustrations. Short story, I coasted into the closest gas station and made it home. I remember praying that God would help me get to the gas station. I blamed it on the Devil, of course. It is amazing how quickly I can revert to feeling persecuted for my own lack of judgment.

Nothing else seemed to jinx my "boring" week until last night. We went over to some friends' home for a little get together. They are moving to Rhode Island to take a new assignment in the US Air Force and their oldest daughter was in Elizabeth's preschool class this past year. They wanted their little ones to see our little ones one last time and we wanted to bid them a fond farewell, since they were really active in church (she played in my handbell choir as a substitute and was on the preschool board of advisers with Misty). Well, all seemed well until our friends informed me that the young man who lived across the street had backed into my car. So, I went out to look at it and, indeed, it was damaged. It was not that bad, still drivable, but bad enough that the entire bumper will have to be replaced. He must have barrelled out of his driveway to hit me hard enough to break his tail light and dent my bumper so well (I mean, he had a little Suzuki). We called the police and they wrote up a report. I was very calm the whole time. (My psychological evaluation said I was not quick to get angry, although it did say that it is hard for me to deal with angry folks.) They were very calm. I felt bad for the young man. He had just turned 20 last week, had never been in an accident, and was on his way to church. Anyway, after about 30 minutes dealing with the police and all that fun stuff, I was pretty much partied out. So, we said our goodbyes. The parents of the young man who wrecked my RAV-4 had already called in the accident to their insurance, so this morning when I called to report it, they already knew about it. I guess that is a good thing. They will be taking care of everything and I will get a rental car to drive around until my car is repaired. Now I just have to wait until I can take my car in to be fixed. I am just glad to not have to pay for anything. Summer is always our least funded season, since I do not teach as much this time of year (and I won't get paid for the class I am teaching now until the middle of August).

As for things on the home front: Misty is doing much better. She had a checkup yesterday and all seems to be working well. The nurse practitioner told her she was the model patient.

Hopefully, I will not have anything newsworthy to report for a while. I have a date with 3 gorgeous underage women tonight while their mom has a girls night out. When do I get a girls night off?

Human Jukeboxes

Okay, so I was watching Six Degrees of Separation this afternoon. As you might remember, this was one of Will Smith's first movies. It was based on a Broadway play, and you can tell because there are few real set changes and there is a lot of very deep dialogue. The thesis of the play was that all people on earth are only six degrees away from everyone else on the planet. So, I know someone who knows someone who knows someone who knows someone else on the other side of the world.

Toward the end of the movie, Ouisa, who was played by Stockard Channing (Are you making fun of me Riz?) is at a large dinner party talking about her experience with this trickster of a young man who entered her life and ran amok with her emotions in a way she was never prepared to experience. Here is what she said:

"But it was an experience. I will not turn him into an anecdote. How do we keep what happens to us? How do we fit it into life without turning it into an anecdote, with no teeth, and a punch line you'll mouth over and over, years to come: "Oh, that reminds me of the time that impostor came into our lives. Oh, tell the one about that boy." And we become these human jukeboxes, spilling out these anecdotes. But it was an experience. How do we keep the experience?"

How do we as Christians keep what happens to us without turning it into an anecdote. "Do you remember that time the Lord really moved in our service?" How sad it is when that is all the presence of God is to us, an anecdote, something to remember pleasantly. The truth in Ouisa's statement was that she did not want this experience to be lost. It was important to her. She did not want to become a mere human jukebox, spewing out witty stories that were interesting but not really life changing. If our experiences with God are truly significant, then they will be life changing and worthy of more than a tidy little story. I think she really did not want to go back to a time when everything made sense, everything fit into its box. She wanted to live in the change that this person brought to her life.

I want to live in the change that God has brought to my life. As much as I miss the life before, I have come to realize that by pandering to the humanity of missing the past, I am actually in effect telling God that what He has planned for me is not as good as what I had planned for myself. I cannot live like that anymore. As I continue in my quest to be ordained in the United Methodist Church, I continue to become more at home with my new church and with myself. These are all works in progress, but at the very least I feel I am making progress. And sometimes, progress is enough.

The Big Sort

There has been a good bit of coverage lately on a book published in May called The Big Sort: Why the Clustering of Like-Minded America is Tearing Us Apart by Bill Bishop. As much as we like to talk about diversity and multiculturalism in the church and in the United States more generally, the findings of this book make me question just how well we are winning this war to be inclusive and understanding of other people's lifestyles, etc. In a nutshell, the thesis of this book is that there was a time not too long ago in America when people of diverse political/religious/whatever other label lived right next to each other and had to deal with each other on a daily basis. Today, this dynamic has changed. More and more people are living in clusters of like-minded people, whether this be Republican/Democrat or Evangelical/Mainline. It is moving beyond this idea of blue states versus red states to segregated neighborhoods.

One of the main proponents of this book lately has been former president Bill Clinton. In a recent speech he had the following to say about The Big Sort:

"We can maximize our impact if we reach out to people who are different from ourselves . . . I want to recommend a book . . . He says . . . we are growing more isolated in our communities because we are living more and more only with people we agree with, and we are growing more isolated in our political debates because . . . we look at the television news and we read the Web sites of people who confirm what we think already. This is not good in a democracy. And so I urge you to read it."


"I’ll just give you one little factoid about it: In 1976 when President Carter and President Ford had a very close race for president. It was close in America. There were only thirty-two percent of our counties that voted for either one of them by more than twenty percent. Everywhere else in America there was a raging ongoing debate among friends and neighbors and people who went to church or synagogue or mosque or wherever together; they were all sitting there talking about this, and they were trying to build a sense of national unity out of their genuine concerns and debates. By 2004 ... it was also very close, but forty-eight and half percent of our counties voted for one or the other of them by more than twenty points."And Bishop has got a story in here, unbelievable story, about a brilliant developer in Southern California who did a market survey, and he found that in the area where he had the property, so he had to do the development, conservative Republicans and liberal Democrats were almost evenly divided, so, and he had one gated community he had to build, so on the left side he built houses that suited conservative Republicans, and on the right side he built places where you could have yoga and meditation and everything (laughter) that suited liberal Democrats, and he actually sold it out immediately, divided exactly as he had predicted, from his market surveys. Now, we’re laughing about this, but some of us are gonna have to cross the street, folks. That’s the last thing I want to say to you. I, we gotta --- "(applause)


"It was an amazing thing. So that’s the other thing I would say to young people: Do public service, not just with somebody who looks different that you do, but who thinks differently than you do. The way to --- we don’t need a phony unity in this country. The founding fathers understood that debate and differences were healthy, but you have to have them in a way that allows you to see the person who disagrees with you as a human being. Once we start doing big things together, we’ll figure out how to do it and we’ll do just fine. . . . "

I think this is significant for those of us who are trying to look past their specific demographic in order to see a more universal church rather than the white bread one I normally get. I guess the greatest concern I have is how polarizing issues tend to be. In the recent past we have seen the rise of evangelicalism in the military to a point that non-religious cadets at the Air Force Academy and West Point have brought charges against these institutions for catering to evangelicals and making it almost impossible to be successful if one is not religious in the military.

What this shows me is there is coming a point when our country will have to deal with two starkly contrasting positions: those who have grown up with no religious leanings at all, and those who have grown up with a fundamental/evangelical background. Both sides think they are absolutely right and constitutionally protected, and neither considers the rights of the other side. This alarms me because I don't think that Jesus was about infringing on others' rights. He knew what was right without having to knock people over the head with it. If this is not the case, then I cannot explain why he chose the disciples he chose or had dinner with the folks he came to call to repentance.

This has been a concern of mine for some time and is one of the reasons I left my former denomination. My biggest problem was that there was no room for dialogue on issues. There was the right answer and the wrong one and nothing in between. I am all about moderation and think it might be a good idea for us to try to come back to the center, meet people half way. But meeting people in the middle means we each have to take a step.

Catching Up With Family

So, I plan to talk about my psychological evaluation at some point in the near future, but we will save it for a rainy day.

The last week has been interesting. We played host to my mother, my sister and her two little boys this past week. We had a good time catching up, but with 5 children in our home, four of which were five and under, to say that the place was a-rockin' would be an understatement. I am really glad I had several days to myself, though you can never really prepare.

Over the week we went to the marina for the 4th of July, the beach a couple of times, to Destin to shop, etc. Of course, I had to pretend to work this past week and teach my night class at the community college, and get the big girls to their summer school (painting class and Kindergarten preparedness, not dummy training) so it was fun balancing these different parts of my life crashing together.

One thing we had not anticipated was that Misty had surgery on Friday to remove her gall bladder (see above). She had been having trouble and that was why we shortened our family vacation to central Florida a few weeks ago. But she went to Texas in the interim and we were planning for her to go to the surgeon on Thursday to set up a laparoscopic procedure in a week or so. Well, Monday she started feeling bad again and so she was able to move up her consultation to Tuesday. She went in for pre-operation blood work Wednesday and had the surgery Friday morning. The hospital actually called us two hours earlier than we had planned, so we rushed around and got ready and went to the hospital with my mom in tow for moral support. Aunt Jen stayed home with all five children. I think she had been drinking, because when we got back from the hospital about 1:30 that afternoon, she was a little glazed over. Just kidding.

Well, the middle of the story is Misty is doing as well as can be expected. She feels a little bruised, but is in good spirits. She was well enough to keep the children by herself while I did a funeral Saturday afternoon (Mimi and the rest left by 5 a. m. Saturday) and while I went to church Sunday morning. We have had a couple of families bring us food which is nice. I hate to cook, so we would have been eating out.

The last funeral I did was interesting and very short. I took it that the family was not in love with their father, or at least pretended that things were better than they had been. I am determined that by the time I die, my children will not be questioning my love for them or the example I set for them. Something about going to so many funerals makes me put my life in better perspective. Speaking of funerals, I have another one on Monday for the husband of one of my musicians. It is really sad because he was not old, just in need of a liver transplant. He was on the list a few weeks and just got too sick.

Nothing else really to report, at least nothing life changing. . . .except . . .

Personal Discovery Should Remain Personal

So, after the great success that was my patriotic musical celebration, I have had three things to look forward to this week: The beginning of my new class at the community college; My trip to Prattville, Alabama to visit with my counselor about my "psychoses;" and My family's return to Florida with Grandma and Aunt Jen and boys in tow.

Monday night I met with my new class for the first time. I have 33 students in a class that meets for 3.5 hours two nights a week. It is forever long, but I keep their attention with my winning wit and vigor. It is a good class with enough students who know something about music to make it interesting for me and enough of the rest seem interested enough to make the time go by quickly. I do not realize how much I miss teaching until I start doing it again, it comes back like I never stopped, and I become a tiny bit nostalgic. Not enough to go back to teaching full time yet (or maybe ever), but just enough to know that I need to keep doing what I am doing. Tonight there were a few girls who kept talking on and off through the third hour of the class and some students on the other side of the class kept giving them dirty looks. I thought it was funny. I guess I already have fans.

Tuesday afternoon I left for Prattville, about 3.5 hours from my house in Lynn Haven. I had a quiet evening so I would be in a decent mood the next day. I was uncharacteristically calm about this go-round with the conference counselor. This time we went over the results of my psychological evaluations that I took almost two months ago. It was amazing to hear myself described in such clinical terms, but there were no startling revelations about my inner workings. It was bizarre to hear him discuss my inner turmoil and anxiety and the fact that I was dealing with a "sad" episode at the time I took the test. Oddly enough, he was also able to determine that this was an episodic occurrence rather than an everyday event. The only thing that has bothered me about these little trips is the expense, mainly because of gas prices, but also because they have been morning sessions that have made it necessary for me to go up the night before. The getaways have been nice and quiet, but the price eats away at my pocketbook a little more than I would like to admit. Once I receive my copy of the official report, I may speak more specifically about the findings, but for now it is safe to say that things went as smooth as possible. And, I can say without reservation that I am glad this part of the ordination process is over.

Tomorrow the fam returns. I am looking forward to a full house this next week. We plan to do something fun for the 4th of July and spend the week together catching up. It will be the first time I have seen my sister or my mom since Christmas. That is the one thing I absolutely hate--living so far away from my family that I cannot see them very often. I understand it is a part of this getting to know me process that I have been on these last few years and I truly believe I have needed to do this in order to better serve my purpose for the Kingdom, but that does not make it any easier. Well, at least I will get to see them for a little while.

Peace