It's been a long time coming

 It's been 7 years since I last posted on this site. A lot has changed since then.

Some highlights:

Covid

I retired from parish ministry

Some things are still around, all be it, they are a little more aged and grey. My family is still around, I still live on the prairie, and I still gather around tables, real and metaphorical. 

At this moment I am not quite sure why I want to resurrect this blog? Podcasts are the thing nowadays. I tried a podcast about 15 years ago with my good friend Mark Davis, perhaps the most excellent minister in the entire USA. We had other jobs and interest, and so we didn't put a lot of effort into it. Who knew they would be the way the world lives in 2026?

Funny, but I stopped writing this blog because the political climate was changing, and I didn't want my words to be part of that conversation. Right or wrong, it is clearer to me now that the change was coming long before I noticed it, and we're not done yet. I suppose someone could parse through the 490 some posts I have on this blog, and detect a particular political leaning. I don't care how you label my politics, my goal is always to serve God first. ( Of course, for a follower of the Christian God that means you serve your neighbor first.)

There will be no monetization of this blog from my end. Google will do its own thing. As I look back on this blog over the 20 years since I first conceived it, it was always meant to be a public journal of my public life as a parish minister, a pastor. Since I no longer have a public life as a public minister, that impetus has faded. If I have a public ministry these days, this is it.

I do hope you can gather around tables and talk. Have conversations. Change has come, and it will keep coming. Change is how we know we are alive. It's how we know there can be a tomorrow.

I've linked this song before because it is one of the greatest songs of all time. May your tables be full, and your conversations be true.

https://youtu.be/MC7Dr2v9Wiw?si=gCYgoihGZiiaNL33

Games of the Throne

A recent TV show had a popular tagline “Winter is coming.” And although in the show “Winter” stood for a lot more than weather, snow and cold were often part of the story. And as we transition from a rather harsh winter of our own (although perhaps not as bad as some a long time ago), we so yearn for the green of Spring or the warmth of Summer. It’s the yearning that drives us.

Yearning is the world of religion, poetry, and metaphor. We struggle to put thoughts into words, our ideas in actions, and our actions towards God’s preferred future for creation. Our hearts, minds, and souls seek God on so many levels of consciousness and experience, and that one—usually brief—moment when all is right in the world.

Throughout my life I’ve saved some quotations that have struck me as profound. All of them, it turns out, revolve around a yearning for God’s presence. Some, like St. Augustine’s “Our hearts are restless Lord until they rest in you,” are pretty self-explanatory. Others, like Samuel Johnson’s “It seems that while searching for the meaning of life you have neglected to live,” take some time to ponder and pray about. But in all there is a yearning.

As I now approach the last third of my life (at least according to insurance statistics) the yearning seems more profound. It’s not that I expect answers, or even to satiate the yearning, but rather how grateful I am to still be here to yearn at all. The smile of my grandson transports me to dimensions of reality I had not known existed. Amazing.

My prayer this summer for us, and all our friends, family, and neighbors who are part of lives, is that the yearning finds a home in God. The yearning finds love in the cross of peace. That our yearnings soar on the wings of eagles to bring us to the final throne, the throne of God.

May your tables be full and your conversations be true.

(a little music to pass the time)

My Privilege

I am constantly reminded of my privilege as a male, cis-gendered, heterosexual white person in the United States of America. Over the last 40 years of my life I have constantly changed my behaviors, my language, my attitudes in order not to take undue advantage of that privilege. I still benefited I am sure, but I took every opportunity I could to be less racist, sexist, elitist, and the like.  (Surprisingly, I have rarely had issues with sexuality and privilege. Must be the result of growing up in the 70s?) Whenever somebody called me out, and they did a lot at first, but over the years I have changed to be who I am today. But it has taken 40 years of people constantly reminding me of my privilege.

If I am any example, if you're just discovering your privileges (whatever they may be), you are in for a long haul. 40 years minimum. And if you don't have that long, well you best get started now. And for folks like my many teachers, acquaintances, friends, and colleagues, and my wonderfully amazing wife,  who prodded me along the way over the years, you too, as the current "wakers" (People who try to keep us awake to the reality of privilege and its devastating effects) your job is not done either.

After 40 years I can say that I do not immediately think in the ways of privilege that I thought in the first 15 years or so of my life, but they come back every now then in flashbacks and memories. I don't say this to brag or to show my street cred, but rather just to reflect honestly on how hard, long, and arduous the process for change is in my case, and I presume many others. Because I do know thing that all the folks who have helped me, reminded me, taught me, guided me, shown me, forgiven me, I know one thing all those folks cannot know: how hard it is to give up the privilege. Ever. In fact, we will never give it up. It has to be taken. Or...

But I am reminded that there is a "still more excellent way," as the Apostle Paul once wrote. There is love. And when it comes to privilege the way to love is to surrender the privilege. And, as far as I know, only guy did that. And they killed him on a cross.

And of those of us of privilege who come from the tradition of Jesus of Nazareth on the cross, all the giving up of privilege in our world, whether money, color, status, anything...all of that is secondary to the forgiveness we have in his life, death, and resurrection. In the end, as I look back on it, although I have never wanted to hurt anyone intentionally, I have generally tried to be considerate and helpful in changing our world for the better for all minorities of any kind, I have never really done it for them. Or, for that matter, because I wanted a "better" world.I have tried to change, and I will keep trying to change because of him. I love because he loved me. I give my privilege because he gave his.

If you have privilege of any kind, I invite you to join me in giving it away. And to those who don't have it, I encourage you to not lose heart. And to remind me if I've forgotten. It is appreciated more than you can imagine. After all, when you call me on my privilege, you are Christ to me. Thank you.

May your tables be full and your conversations be true.

Can I be a Pastor?

I spent a good deal of my time in my early adult years asking myself that question. Other people asked the question along with me, and some asked it even of themselves. I had friends who decided they couldn't be a pastor, and they went on to do amazing, generous and helpful things as positive stewards in God's world. I had other decide they could be a pastor, and they have joined me over the years in this vocation. Can I be a pastor?

To be fair, a great many people wondered how I was ever going to be a pastor. Most assumed I was joking. And my lifestyle, to this day, pushes many of the pre-conceived notions people have of pastors. (I must admit the influx of Gen-Xers and Millennials and their lifestyles into professional ministry have lessened the strangeness of my lifestyle choices. I mean, I once had someone evaluate me and one of their critiques was I wore cowboy boots to an interview, even though they knew I was living in Austin, TX. And you wonder why the church was shrinking...)

Being a pastor, much like being a Christian, boils down to about 3 things: being authentic to who God created you; being faithful, yet creative in whenever God calls you; and seeking to help others. Clearly this list is not exhaustive, and there is more to be a pastor than just these qualities; however, without these qualities everything else that might go into being a pastor doesn't really "steward the mysteries" as Paul says.

Let's start with "seeking to help others." Being a pastor is a practical occupation. That is, you are trying to have practical, realistic, pragmatic impact on the lives of people and communities. William James and all the pragmatic philosophers relish the practicality of pastors. Even a pastor who never steps foot out of his or her office is more practical than many others professions "of the mind." That is because, primarily, you are responsible for the practicality of your thought. It is only as people can access, use, and apply your thoughts that one is being a pastor. Let me show you what I mean...

In 451 CE in a town named Chalcedon, the Church declared that Jesus Christ was of 2 natures in 1 person.(Council of Chalcedon) This definition, known commonly as the "Chalcedonian Definition" is pretty important to most Christians of the world. And most Christians of the world use this definition all the time, and you have too, even if this is the first time you've ever heard of it. The Chalcedonian Definition is central to how we worship Jesus of Nazareth as the Christ of God.

Jesus did some pretty human things over the course of his life here on earth. He did things all humans have, and everything about him was completely human. He was so human that he even died. But he is also God. And can do all the things God can do. He's both because the Bible seems to say he's both.

But this is hard to believe. But we do. Every time your pray to Jesus to deliver you from evil, or sin, or death, or the devil, or anything you are making 3 assumptions:
1) Jesus is worthy to pray to. In other words, he's God
2) Jesus understands what you're asking for. In other words, he's human.
3) It's the same Jesus in assumptions 1 and 2.

Christians make these assumptions every time they pray in Jesus' name. And those three assumptions are the Chalcedonian Definition.

This is where being a pastor comes into play. Knowing the Chalcedonian Defintion is not going to do much for you, but using it to help you guide your prayers might. If you're struggling in a situation what do you need from God? Praying to Jesus will ensure that God hears what you need. And all the emotions, feelings, thoughts, and attitudes that are swirling around in you, how can God possibly understand? Jesus does. And Jesus will ensure that God understands your unique situation.

Pastors focus on the prayers and praying part of our spiritual life. There is a huge and deep doctrinal, and in the case of the Chalcedonian Definition, dogmatic tradition that underlies these spiritual practices. Pastors are professionals in these spiritual practices, and have an inkling, at least, of their deeper theological importance. But it's the praying that matters to pastors most.

So for this week, if you ask can I be a pastor? Ask first, if you want to help.

May your tables be full and your conversations be true.

Mental Illness and the Gospel

Today, June 10, 2018, we had as our reading from the life of Jesus in the story of him saying, "Can Satan cast out Satan?" And everyone, especially his family, worried that he was so "out of character." (Literally: lost his mind.) And I told a story about when I  with our SUV almost ran over Anthony Bourdain in Hollywood a few years ago. Anthony Bourdain succumbed to suicide a couple of days ago.

My sermon came to the reality that there is little we can do about mental illness other than to offer ourselves, literally give ourselves away, so that those in the throes of mental illness' power have time to survive another day. It made many people grateful for the power of Jesus to subdue "the devil" (which I use as a metaphor for the negative energy the mental illness brings upon people.) But it also led a few of us into a sense of hopelessness, especially those who want to help those suffering from mental illness. There's not a lot you can do when "Satan" has someone in their power. And what you can do, stay by them, walk with them, love them seems so inadequate.

Mental illness is the one place these days where the gospel is our only salvation. All the people God has sent to bring medicine and knowledge, compassion and care to those suffering from mental illness cannot "subdue" it. They can mollify its effects, re-direct its energy, and even mask some of its pain, but the illness always lurks in the background, and those suffering are never sure when it will strike again. Only something completely from the outside, only something that doesn't play by the rules, only someone who is willing to die so others may live can defeat-- subdue mental illness. And in Christianity that someone is Jesus the Christ of God.

As the Son of God, Jesus does not play by the rules of Satan. He is completely outside of the person suffering; he can die, so someone else can live. But as the Son of Humanity he is completely at ease knowing the destructive power of Satan and negative energy. But he does not succumb, but not because he is God, but because he becomes so human. He lets Satan have free reign over his failures, his regrets, and his blasphemies. He clings to the Holy Spirit, and lets Satan have all the rest of him. And in doing so--he subdues Satan.And his promise is such that he does so for you as well.

Satan thinks he has won because he got Jesus dead. But Jesus knows that is not a win when you are dealing with a God of eternal love. And Jesus gives everything to Satan because he trusts God will give everything to him. And in the end, Jesus got it right, and he conquered because he was weaker rather than stronger.

Mental illness makes bold the Gospel because it is so rife with images of weakness and strength. And always remember when it comes to Jesus and the Gospel weakness is the point, not the problem.

May your tables be full and your conversation be true.