Our bed is situated with the head at a set of double-hung windows over our back-yard. It works well in the room, and I like the smell of outside, especially at this time of year. It's relaxing. However, at times the security light in my neighbor's backyard is not so much. But you take the good with the bad.
I haven't been sleeping very well recently. Not like months and months, just the last week or so. Don't really know why, just can't get my brain to shut down. I lay there, looking out into our backyard. We're sort of in a weird place.
...
I was goofing around a little on YouTube this morning. There is something interesting about YouTube-people film themselves, and then watch themselves, and then, in spite of what they see or hear, post themselves on the World Wide Web for everyone else to marvel at too. Then you've got clips from real TV too. And that's nice if you don't keep up with stuff as it comes along.
A little background: my wmil ("wonderful mother-in-law" for those of you who don't regularly receive correspondence from her yourself) was diagnosed about 4 years ago with Parkinson's disease, early-onset. This illness is a non-terminal degenerative disease as I understand it. I imagine that there's some interpretation involved whenever the words terminal and degenerative are found in close proximity, but when she sat us down in our youth pastor's office one Sunday morning, she told us "people die with Parkinson's, not from it."
The entertainment world became acquainted with it when one of it's forever young and beautiful came out that he had would soon begin to show his age 45 years sooner than the world anticipated. Whether he was at the height of his career or not-well, I'll leave that to the historians and experts. But everybody knew: Michael J. Fox-teen werewolf, Alex P. Keaton, and the unintentionally-oedipal, Delorean driving time-traveller, would be dropping out off the silver screen.
Well, as I mentioned earlier, I'd been stumbling around on YouTube, and I started thinking to myself that I hadn't seen any video interviews of him for awhile, and was wondering how the disease was progressing. Well sure enough, there was a Michael J. Fox interview on David Letterman from April of this year. For the past several years, Fox has been leveraging his celebrity both to raise awareness for Parkinson's research and treatment, but also to be a role model for optimism and hope. Having recently finished a new memoir, Fox visited with Letterman as a promotion for the book, and to voice the message of "optimism" that he had witnessed and experienced.
At about 9min20seconds, Letterman ask Fox a question: "So, what have you found out, is [happiness] topical? Can you apply it?" and Fox's response was beautiful. He very casually responded, "I'm still sifting through the evidence I've collected...but...it's about connections-it's about relationships and it's about having a sense of purpose. I think that one of the reasons that there's this counter-intuitive sense of optimism in the country-and things are so bad-but we feel like we're doing something."
...
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Bent II
Ok. So here's the thing: I sometimes wonder if our most compelling reason for being bent is to escape being bent. Follow? We work and work and work-so we can retire. We drag ourselves through 5 days so that we can enjoy 2. Ok. That maybe embellishing a little. But for some of us, that's become our routine. And that sucks.
What about church? Has the church become our relief from bent-ed-ness? Do we go to recharge because life is grinding us down? Because the world appears to be falling apart? Because, God, if ever there could be a refuge, surely the church could do that? Surely.
And yes, I'd say it ought to. But.
...
For most of my life, I understood God to be Holy. To be perfect and pure. And in his being perfect, I'd believe that he was capable of great mercy. Even compassion. But in my heart that seemed to be more an outflow of his holiness, and his perfectness, his---his totally good-ness without a hint of badness. It seemed to be more of a secondary effect of his character, rather than a primary one. You know? Almost like the kind of thing that you'd expect from a little miss-perfect pants. And it could, even as it is graciously extended to you, piss you off even more. That is SO typical! Because it just puts you at an even further distance from God, because you know, you can't measure up to that sort of ...generosity.
But.
...
I often hear people talk about life as though it's a race. "It's a marathon, not a sprint," they say. Then I hear people console me, saying, "He's there at the end, waiting to crown you, good and faithful servant." Others say, "NO! He's not at the end-he's running along side!"
And that's all very good. I can remember seeing Carl Lewis, and Edwin Moses running their races, sprints in some cases, lap after tiresome legs-burning lap in others. So I have had this picture of racing in my mind. A single course, visible in it's entirity. And it's just endurance now. That is, the ability to endure utter boredom and the considerable pain of counting each miserable lap. But I've begun to understand my life a little differently lately.
The Tour de France. One of professional bicyclings most legendary and infamous races. It's composed of roughly 20 stages. It takes riders almost 3 weeks to complete. Each stage has unique characteristics, being either urban or rural, flat or devestatingly hilly. Or just plain old hilly. Weather becomes a factor when the race takes most of a month. Sickness. Psychology.
I guess my point is that completing every course, every stage of the race is dominated by unique characteristics. Having done well in this stage, or even these several stages, can still crumble in another kind of stage. Or vice versa.
My understanding of life as a race has recently changed from the former more to the latter. Stages rather than laps. My life recently turned a corner, started a new stage if you will. Really kind of revolving around my view of God. It's become defined by an altogether different trait: God's bent-ed-ness.
...
God has shown himself to be bent. Can you believe that? I have come to see God as being bent on the business of repair. No. Restoration. No, not good enough. Re-creating. God is bent, myopic, obsessed, driven---totally captured by the business of re-claiming what is His, re-building what is broken, re-storing what has been lost and re-created what was once fantastic. Now, is that all he does? Is that all he cares about? No. He cares about justice, he loves obedience, and he blesses the faithful. But before any of that can be done-he cares about restoring the relationship.
The Bible says that Jesus was obedient to death, even death on a cross. Does that mean that the cross had authority over him? I don't know, but I'm inclined to thinking that he (Jesus) simply chose obedience, every time, even when the next obedient choice would mean death. Jesus was bent on obedience to His Father's will. Which he continually connected with forgiveness, with repentance, with baptism to new life.
Ok. So what's this got to do with yesterdays survey (there were no results to report). I am so pleased to be a partner in my church. We are bent on obedience. And I believe that God is bent on being a gracious repairer and provider.
Our church is eating it big time. I don't think we're special in that regard. But economical woes find their ways to non-profits and churches, and we're no exception. But God is using us to provide. Our food pantry is serving it up bigger every month. We're partnered with eight other churches. We wring our hands because our church can't grow because we don't have enough parking, and we've been moaning over attendence stuff forever. But our food pantry is kicking food out the door like doorbusters.
We recently partnered up with a group of master gardeners who are going to use our real-estate to ... plant FOOOD. We're gonna have a big ole garden in our frontyard. And then we're gonna kick out canned goods AND veggies too. That's the business. And next month we're opening a free medical clinic. We recently had an open house and had over 50 local medical professionals and doctors sign up. We are bent on making God-stuff happen in our rich little suburb. Cause people are dying here too. And if God cares enough to plant a church there, he must want something to change there. That's what I want to be bent on.
What about church? Has the church become our relief from bent-ed-ness? Do we go to recharge because life is grinding us down? Because the world appears to be falling apart? Because, God, if ever there could be a refuge, surely the church could do that? Surely.
And yes, I'd say it ought to. But.
...
For most of my life, I understood God to be Holy. To be perfect and pure. And in his being perfect, I'd believe that he was capable of great mercy. Even compassion. But in my heart that seemed to be more an outflow of his holiness, and his perfectness, his---his totally good-ness without a hint of badness. It seemed to be more of a secondary effect of his character, rather than a primary one. You know? Almost like the kind of thing that you'd expect from a little miss-perfect pants. And it could, even as it is graciously extended to you, piss you off even more. That is SO typical! Because it just puts you at an even further distance from God, because you know, you can't measure up to that sort of ...generosity.
But.
...
I often hear people talk about life as though it's a race. "It's a marathon, not a sprint," they say. Then I hear people console me, saying, "He's there at the end, waiting to crown you, good and faithful servant." Others say, "NO! He's not at the end-he's running along side!"
And that's all very good. I can remember seeing Carl Lewis, and Edwin Moses running their races, sprints in some cases, lap after tiresome legs-burning lap in others. So I have had this picture of racing in my mind. A single course, visible in it's entirity. And it's just endurance now. That is, the ability to endure utter boredom and the considerable pain of counting each miserable lap. But I've begun to understand my life a little differently lately.
The Tour de France. One of professional bicyclings most legendary and infamous races. It's composed of roughly 20 stages. It takes riders almost 3 weeks to complete. Each stage has unique characteristics, being either urban or rural, flat or devestatingly hilly. Or just plain old hilly. Weather becomes a factor when the race takes most of a month. Sickness. Psychology.
I guess my point is that completing every course, every stage of the race is dominated by unique characteristics. Having done well in this stage, or even these several stages, can still crumble in another kind of stage. Or vice versa.
My understanding of life as a race has recently changed from the former more to the latter. Stages rather than laps. My life recently turned a corner, started a new stage if you will. Really kind of revolving around my view of God. It's become defined by an altogether different trait: God's bent-ed-ness.
...
God has shown himself to be bent. Can you believe that? I have come to see God as being bent on the business of repair. No. Restoration. No, not good enough. Re-creating. God is bent, myopic, obsessed, driven---totally captured by the business of re-claiming what is His, re-building what is broken, re-storing what has been lost and re-created what was once fantastic. Now, is that all he does? Is that all he cares about? No. He cares about justice, he loves obedience, and he blesses the faithful. But before any of that can be done-he cares about restoring the relationship.
The Bible says that Jesus was obedient to death, even death on a cross. Does that mean that the cross had authority over him? I don't know, but I'm inclined to thinking that he (Jesus) simply chose obedience, every time, even when the next obedient choice would mean death. Jesus was bent on obedience to His Father's will. Which he continually connected with forgiveness, with repentance, with baptism to new life.
Ok. So what's this got to do with yesterdays survey (there were no results to report). I am so pleased to be a partner in my church. We are bent on obedience. And I believe that God is bent on being a gracious repairer and provider.
Our church is eating it big time. I don't think we're special in that regard. But economical woes find their ways to non-profits and churches, and we're no exception. But God is using us to provide. Our food pantry is serving it up bigger every month. We're partnered with eight other churches. We wring our hands because our church can't grow because we don't have enough parking, and we've been moaning over attendence stuff forever. But our food pantry is kicking food out the door like doorbusters.
We recently partnered up with a group of master gardeners who are going to use our real-estate to ... plant FOOOD. We're gonna have a big ole garden in our frontyard. And then we're gonna kick out canned goods AND veggies too. That's the business. And next month we're opening a free medical clinic. We recently had an open house and had over 50 local medical professionals and doctors sign up. We are bent on making God-stuff happen in our rich little suburb. Cause people are dying here too. And if God cares enough to plant a church there, he must want something to change there. That's what I want to be bent on.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Bent
Heard this word in church yesterday, and it's been banging around in my head. Bent. Like obsessed, driven, myopic, compelled, set, inclined, unswerving, determined. Bent.
Right now, my youngest son is sitting at the table, staring down a cup which contains roughly 1 inch worth of clean, white, whole milk. He's been staring at that 1" of milk for over an hour. He's probably got another hour in him, given precedence. He's begun to scream at the cup. Once, tribes of South American indians believed that screaming at a tree for long enough would demoralize and kill the spirit of the tree. Perhaps that is what he's after right now. It's working. Not on the cup so much, but it's working pretty good on me.
What in the world are we here for? For a long time, I was bent on writing music, and being a rock-star or something. I practiced for hours. I labored over lyrics that were mysterious, beautiful, and yet within that, meaningful and honest. I drew up advertising flyers that were intended to be interesting, have integrity, and be artistically pleasing. And then I'd set them aside and try to make a better one. I was bent. On me.
The apostle Paul-now if anybody was bent, it was that guy. My kids scream at me for 3 or 4 hours and I'm out. This guy, he makes the energizer bunny look like the Blob. Ok, but he's like, a bible SUPER hero, so, as any respectable report of statistics would, he's out, being in the top 4%. And that also takes care of the sloths at the bottom 4%. So. All fair now.
Anyways. Church is: A) a great place to network and make new connections. B) a wholesome environment to raise your kids. C) a place for me to deepen my spiritual connection to God, and recharge my battery so I can go out into this cruel, cold world. or D) a base-camp of super-charged, subvert-the-dominant-paradigm-shifting world domination E) all-of-the-above and finally F) NONE of the above.
Ok. Think about that. I'll expect a report on my bench by the EOB.
Right now, my youngest son is sitting at the table, staring down a cup which contains roughly 1 inch worth of clean, white, whole milk. He's been staring at that 1" of milk for over an hour. He's probably got another hour in him, given precedence. He's begun to scream at the cup. Once, tribes of South American indians believed that screaming at a tree for long enough would demoralize and kill the spirit of the tree. Perhaps that is what he's after right now. It's working. Not on the cup so much, but it's working pretty good on me.
What in the world are we here for? For a long time, I was bent on writing music, and being a rock-star or something. I practiced for hours. I labored over lyrics that were mysterious, beautiful, and yet within that, meaningful and honest. I drew up advertising flyers that were intended to be interesting, have integrity, and be artistically pleasing. And then I'd set them aside and try to make a better one. I was bent. On me.
The apostle Paul-now if anybody was bent, it was that guy. My kids scream at me for 3 or 4 hours and I'm out. This guy, he makes the energizer bunny look like the Blob. Ok, but he's like, a bible SUPER hero, so, as any respectable report of statistics would, he's out, being in the top 4%. And that also takes care of the sloths at the bottom 4%. So. All fair now.
Anyways. Church is: A) a great place to network and make new connections. B) a wholesome environment to raise your kids. C) a place for me to deepen my spiritual connection to God, and recharge my battery so I can go out into this cruel, cold world. or D) a base-camp of super-charged, subvert-the-dominant-paradigm-shifting world domination E) all-of-the-above and finally F) NONE of the above.
Ok. Think about that. I'll expect a report on my bench by the EOB.
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