Update! Possible Pastoral Candidate Located

I am contacting those responsible for the new pastor search at my church. I may have located a potential candidate. I mean talk about emergent, post-modern, relevant, and hip. And he knows the words to "Tiny Bubbles"!

I think we are done searching.

Overcoming Unbelievable Odds

Something remarkable happened today.

In the frigid cold of Nome, Alaska, Rachel Scdoris, who is legally blind and just 20 years old, just finished the 1,100 Iditarod Dog Sled Race. This is her second attempt, after having to scratch last year.

This is just plain amazing. The power of the human spirit is remarkable. I love stories like this.

Time, Drudgery, Bocelli, Lent, and Mercy

I am 47 years old. For some reason, I find myself preoccupied often with the concept of time. If there only was a way in which one could freeze time, that would be wonderful. Oh, how I wish, rather nostalgically, that I could have frozen time when our daughters were little, say, at 3 and 6 years old, perhaps. What a precious time that was (although I did not have a clue how precious then).

My life sometimes feels rather rote. Same thing, each day; get up, pick up the paper, feed the dog, read the headlines (after finding my glasses), shower, shave, dress, drive kids to school, Starbucks stop, 10 minutes to the office, sit down, answer emails, blah, blah, blah.

Does the Creator inhabit the ordinary? Is His Mercy found in each moment? Can the drudgery of each day, in fact become something of Divinity being slowly revealed?

But then, there are these moments. Little epiphanies if you will. Last week, I stole (ok, come and get me, FBI) a CD from a friend's collection. I am not sure why I took it. It might be a quest, deep in my soul for something sacred, a longing for even a peek at eternity. Maybe to understand....time.

The CD you ask? No, not The Carpenter's Greatest Hits.

Andrea Bocelli - Sacred Arias.

Andrea was born among the vineyards of Tuscany, still an infant when he developed glaucoma, and rendered blind by a brain hemorrhage at the age of 12. Music filtering into his room soothed the unsettled child, and his passion for music brought light back into his life. He grew up and went to law school, but always longed to sing. Turns out, Andrea and I were born 92 days apart in 1958.

Music filtering into my car and my office this week has soothed this somewhat unsettled middle-aged guy. In particular arias that remind me of the fragility of life, the condition of our humanity, and the mysteriously great love of God:

Ingemisco - Giuseppe Verdi, Messa de Requiem

I groan, like the sinner that I am;

guilt redeems my face.

O God, spare the supplicant.

You who pardoned Mary and heeded the thief

have given me hope as well

My prayers are unworthy, but you who are good,

in pity let me not burn in the eternal fire.

Give me a place among the sheep and separate me from the goats;

let me stand at your right hand.

I still don't understand much. I don't get time, feeling like life is going through the motions, raising girls that are turning into young ladies far too fast.

But I know a few things. I know where I am headed. I know that this is not my home. I know that each day offers opportunities to care, to serve, and to reflect a life transformed by God. To build the Kingdom here. To aleve suffering, bring healing.

I know I have been given hope. I want a place among the sheep.

Its a Matter of Perspective

So, last week I am having one of my rare quiet lunches. Just me and several back issues of the Wall Street Journal (the world's most excellent newspaper). No clients, no office staff. Just me and the paper. Ahhh, bliss for the sometime introvert that I am. And in the "offbeat" center column of the front page, I come across this article, which definitely has my interest.

I find a link to this web site in the article. I visit the web site, and get nearly giddy with some of the ideas, concepts, and direction of what these folks are up to. Jesus, for the rest of us! To see who is behind this novel idea, look here.

So now, since, as my friend Rob points out, I have a less-than-adequate education, I need some of my more theologically minded friends to pitch in, and post their thoughts on the Off-The-Map folks.

Do We Give Jesus All of our Politics?

I know this remarkable fellow. Rob Asghar. He has lead a most interesting life. Perhaps one of the most interesting parts of this life is his convertion to a Christ-follower, after growing up Muslim. Rob has been a friend for about 10 years, and has never ceased to make me think, question my world view, and consider new ideas. Rob just doesn't fit into a neat Christian Box, darn it. But the older I get, the less it seems (I think) that even Jesus does not fit into that box I made for him, darn him.

I am thankful for Rob.

Recently Rob has been taking aim at a man I have met and admire; Hugh Hewitt. But the issues Rob raises are really less about Hugh, and are far more about the way some of us Christian folk think. Sometimes I wonder, is it American Christian, or Christian American?

Stuff That Bugs and Confuses Me
A couple of things that bother me. First, the "we have it all together" mentality of the Christian Right. While there is much on the left side of the political spectrum that I find inconsistent with the message of the Gospel, I do not in any way remain convinced that Conservatives have the corner on the sum total of all truth.

While I support the current military action in Iraq, Rob Asghar well points out that "national defense as an extension of Biblical theology" is something to be suspect of. For more on that concept, please see this. I do not have all the answers, but I do know a pacifist take to the events of WWII would have had disastrous consequences for world history. And I do think deposing Saddam was a good thing, but I am saddened by the ongoing brokenness of Iraq. However, if we, as a country are offended by the concept of brutal dictators, then why, please tell me, do we simply watch from the sidelines what is happening in Dahfur? And what of the band of loonies current semi-starving the people of North Korea? Do we simply invade at will? What would Jesus do....please tell me?

How about the social contracts we make in our own nation? While I bristle at an "entitled class", and the lock-step behavior of many unions, we Christian folk best keep in our mind the Biblical mandate of care for the poor and forgotten. Unsettling ideas that Jesus fellow had.

What about that City?
Christ described our role as followers to be that city on a hill. But how can we do that if we all look the same, act the same, and have the same politics. I am not sure. But I do know this, if I really, really want to follow Jesus, it means that I need to give Him all of myself, including, even maybe, my politics. The church universal has amazing things to offer, in all its colors and forms. I love Eugene Peterson's take on this:

We are......"here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We're going public with this, as public as a city on a hill"

And so, what does our public form look like? Is it an army perfectly lined up behind James Dobson, Pat Robertson, and their type. On the other hand, do we blindly follow Jim Wallis, Hilary, and Al Franken? Do we all join the National Council of Churches, hold hands, sing inclusive songs, and equally recognize the wonderfulness of the Divinity of the Month?

I hope its neither. I also pray that whatever form we take, it is something mysteriously beautiful. That is my hope.

Jesus, Lord of All?

To begin with, if the image at left does not give you some form of the willies, then you might want to move right along, perhaps to another planet.

My friend Rob Asghar, born and raised a Muslim, and now a follower of Jesus, has some thoughtful things to say about the whole issue of conservative thought. Go, read, and then, please....think! What Would Jesus Do...indeed?!

I want to spend some more time on this soon, but life is tugging me in many directions. This is part of having two girls, age 12 and 15, and something else to do with the fact that the in-laws are visiting from out of town for the next 10 days!

The Lent I Almost Missed

A week ago tomorrow was the beginning of Lent. A time of reflection, repentance, submission, and above all, a six week season of remembering the most profound event in all of human history, the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ.

It began without me. I am not sure why, but by the end of Wednesday, my workaday life has rushed past, and I was not able to find the time to make it to a wonderful tradition of a Lenten service at my church. Early in the day last Wednesday, I even drove by the door of our local Catholic Church, and wondered if I should go inside, risking my Protestant coolness, and receive the imposition of ashes. A sign of my repentance and helplessness before God. Nope, I thought, I am not gonna do that. Wouldn't be prudent. Stay the course. I drove on, too distracted by my own life, and selfconscious of my own weakness to take a small risk, and step forward to receive a mark upon my forehead.

Somewhat ironically, the word "Lent" comes from a Middle Eastern word for spring. Ash Wednesday is a Christian holiday (holy day) that is not a biblical requirement (rather like Christmas). Nevertheless, it has been honored by Christians for well over ten centuries at the beginning of Lent. In the earliest centuries, Christians who had fallen into persistent sin had ashes sprinkled on their bodies as a sign of repentance, even as Job repented "in dust and ashes" (Job 42:6). Around the tenth century, all believers began to signify their need for repentance by having ashes placed on their foreheads in the shape of a cross. Even this sign of sinfulness hinted at the good news yet to come through its shape.

A mark. Upon my forehead. A little cross. What would our lives be like, our culture be like, if the cross would not wash off. Permanent. Now that would make life different. Would I behave differently? One of the reasons I don't have a Christian fish on the back of my car is that I am not convinced that my "vehicular Christian witness" would not be perhaps suitable to witness for Jesus at all times.

And so, I hope to take the time over the next five weeks to pause, to think, to reflect on Jesus, on myself, and on my sinfulness, my feet of clay. And to remember the last weeks of Jesus' life, the difficult road he followed, the pain he felt, the loneliness, the confusion. To reflect on his final words, asking God why he had been forsakened.

We are not forsaken, we are found. We are loved. I will not miss the rest of this Lent.

A Serendipitous Sunday

Today, my wife and I took a quick getaway trip to San Diego (work thing for me). We had planned to visit this church, where our friend is an associate pastor.

We showed up, walked in the door, and found out that Bob Bennett was the guest artist in the worship service. I have loved Bob's music now for more than 20 years (although he is not the typical hip and cool Christian recording artist), and find his music, for me, at least, speaks to the heart of the gospel mystery.

Alright now, I have very few things happen in my life that are sort of a "Holy Spirit Whacked Me On The Head" type of thing. But this was one, definitely.

This Sunday I experienced one of the most gentle, wonderful, grace-filled church services in a very long time. A drink of cool, fresh water, after a season of rough sailing at our church home. What did I learn? There is hope, great hope!

I am thankful for the Body of Christ, as expressed in the faithful at Solana Beach Presbyterian Church.

Who Needs Church?`

Just go read this. It says it all.

Building Community, One Dinner At a Time

This has been a typically busy week, which explains in part my lack of dispatches from South Pasadena. However, the past 24 hours have been filled with the blessings of a life full, with kids, people, and marked by a neat sense of community; belonging, if you will.

Tonight our house was filled with conversation and laughter, as we hosted the couples class from our church for dinner. We had the following wonderful folks, as mentioned by their occupations, in no particular order. Fireman, mothers (3), child care workers (2), optician, Christian education director at our church, aspiring musician and child care worker, special education teacher, web designer and aspiring film/tv writer, and business valuation consultant. This is part of our fellowship that is just starting and this a small part of the Kingdom. I am greatly thankful for these relationships, for their variety, their beauty, and the trust each person places to share their lives with us. May our love for each other grow, and may we grow to know the Savior in a way that brings grace to others.

Last night brought a sense of belonging in another way. It was Father's Follies night at South Pasadena Middle School. For the second year in a row, I was recruited by my wife (like I would volunteer!?) to take part in the "Dad's Who Dance" chorus line. Imagine 20-some middle aged dads performing chorus line kicks, turns, and other risky moves in a middle school auditorium complete with dropping balloons in the big finale. Its a night to raise money for the Middle School PTA; you have the basic concept. There are (thank God) no images of the actual dancing event, but we do have this image of Heather (age 12) and I after the show. It was a rousing success, and featured a variety of, shall we say, "unique" acts. It was a blast dancing with the other Dads, laughing, and making fun of our middle-agedness together.

Last year, during rehearsal, the principal commented to me that her motivation for this event was not about more raising money and having fun. In the town where she grew up, the Father's Follies had been a tradition for something like 30 years. Huge crowds came every year. She then added, "This is not all about raising money, its about building community". She was right, and we did - build community that is. It was great. May Father's Follies grow, and may our sense of community deepen.

In this fractured world, we need to be connected. We need a true sense of community.

Little Is Most...In The Kingdom

For the past couple of days...I have not had much to say here. But I have been thinking about some wonderful people who serve the youth at our church. You can go learn about them here. These are amazing folks, serving Christ by serving kids. Spending time.

My thoughts are not of much worth, but the thoughts of Henri Nouwen seem to fit very well in relation to these youth leaders, who give so much of themselves for others:

"Jesus is God-with-us, Emmanuel. The great mystery of God becoming human is God's desire to be loved by us. By becoming a vulnerable child, completely dependent on human care, God wants to take away all distance between the human and the divine. Who can be afraid of a little child that needs to be fed, to be cared for, to be taught, to be guided? We usually talk about God as the all-powerful, almighty God on whom we depend completely. But God wanted to become the all-powerless, all-vulnerable God who completely depends on us. How can we be afraid of a God who wants to be "God-with-us" and needs us to become "Us-with-God"?

There is much emphasis on notoriety and fame in our society. Our newspapers and television keep giving us the message: What counts is to be known, praised, and admired, whether you are a writer, an actor, a musician, or a politician.Still, real greatness is often hidden, humble, simple, and unobtrusive. It is not easy to trust ourselves and our actions without public affirmation. We must have strong self-confidence combined with deep humility. Some of the greatest works of art and the most important works of peace were created by people who had no need for the limelight. They knew that what they were doing was their call, and they did it with great patience, perseverance, and love."

Thanks, youth leaders at Hollywood Pres.

Not All Americans are Jerks

I am married to a Canadian. My wife Nancy was born and raised in Canada, and received her US citizenship several years ago. After the events of the past two weeks at the Olympics, I wonder if she might not want to turn in her passport.

Chad Hedrick. Shani Davis. And then, Bode Miller.

Americans all. Brash, loud, self-concerned. Disappointing.

Someone needs to show these people this word. I doubt any of them have ever considered its meaning.

But then, there are little glimmers of hope. Take Chip Knight, (go, read!, sign up might be required, but worth it) for instance. And then there is always my personal favorite, Kelly Clark.

We Americans have a ton of work to do on our humility factor. Perhaps people like Kelly and Chip, can show us the way.

Just A Speck, But Loved

I have this friend who is a rocket scientist. Really. He works at JPL, and he supervises the development of little things like this. His name is Dave, and he is a remarkable guy; one of the funniest people I know. I was thinking about Dave today, while heading back to the office on the freeway.

I was also thinking about Dark Matter. I heard a piece on NPR a couple of weeks ago while in the shower (we have a shower radio) that almost made me want to fall to the tiled floor in amazement. Or crumple up in a ball and hide in the corner. Or maybe run outside and look up at the sky and weep.

How is it that I am here? At this time. On this planet. Surrounded by family that loves me. But there are others on this planet that face such pain and poverty that they don't know if they will make it another day. How is all this? I thought some of these same questions 26 years ago, as I was beginning my senior year at UCLA. I stood of the verge of the rest of my life, having nearly completed my degree, and wondering what I was going to do after college. What would my life look like? Who would I marry, would I even marry in the first place? Would there be children? Would I make enough money to be independent? Would I be happy? What is happiness, really, anyway?

And these questions, along with some remarkable relationships with some good Christian people, lead me to church. There, for the first time in my life, I heard about this man. Jesus. And my life has never been the same since.

My friend Dave knows more about the Hubble Space Telescope, Infared Astronomy, and Dark Matter than almost all of the rest of us do. He can make a Delta rocket lift very heavy things into space to study things most of us earth people can barely get our minds around. And interestingly enough, my friend Dave has had an encounter with Jesus also.

This leads me to my drive home from my Mom & Dads home the other evening. I had gone over at the end of the day to check on some clean-up work we are doing before we rent the house out. It always feels sort of strange to wander around that now dark and cold home, with all the items from my childhood memories laid out - in anticipation of a coming estate sale. How did I get from that house in Arcadia to our house in South Pasadena, about 7.5 miles, over the course of the past 25 years or so. Who lead me? Who was I following, and what was I following? And why?

As I drove home the sky was quite remarkable. A brilliant sunset after a couple of days of rain. It was cold, brisk, weather that sort of wakes you up. And then, a song by Sara Groves come on the CD player in the car:

I've been feeling kind of restless. I've been feeling out of place. I can hear a distant singing, a song that I can't write, but it echoes in what I'm always trying to say. There's a feeling I can't capture. It's always just a prayer away. I want to know the ending, things hoped for but not seen, but I guess that's the point in hoping anyway. . Chorus: Going home, I'll meet you at the table. Going home, I'll meet you in the air. You are never too young to think about it. Oh, I cannot wait to be home . I'm confined by my senses to really know what you are like. You are more than I can fathom, more than I can guess, and more than I can see with human sight. . But I have felt you with my spirit. I have felt you fill this room. This is just an invitation, a sample of the whole, and I cannot wait to be going home. . Chorus . Face to face how can it be? Face to face how can it be? Face to face how can it be?

The sunset was stunning. My eyes filled with tears. I don't feel ready to go home yet. I love it here, with all its joy, and struggle, and pain, and wonder. But someday, I will finally be home, where I really belong.

Dave. Dark Matter. This life here, for a brief while. Jesus - God with us.

Amazing. All of it.

Geeked Out!

Oh my gosh...oh my gosh....oh my gosh!! I am soooo excited!! Forget the Olympics!

They have finally invented the most outstandingly cool and excellent computer game ever. I can barely contain myself......have to go out now and buy it!

A New Olympic Hero

Talk about character. My new Olympic hero, did not finish gold, silver, or bronze. Kelly Clark finished fourth, out of the medals.

But not out of the Kingdom. From Sports Illustrated:

After Clark, 22, won the Olympics at the Salt Lake Games she struggled with the expectations to consistently perform at the highest level. When reporters asked her at the X Games three years ago what went wrong with her second-place run, she began to sour on the sport. A knee injury the following season kept her off the snow for eight months. During that time, Clark attended a church near her Mammoth Lakes, Calif., condo.

Though she was unable to capitalize on another Olympic medal, Clark takes comfort in her new identity as a Christian. While close friends Teter and Bleiler were stepping up to the medal podium at the bottom of the Bardonecchia halfpipe, Clark stood nearby wiping away tears.

"I love Jesus," says Clark, who has the name written on her board. "[Being a Christian] is more joyful than all this snowboarding stuff."

Amen, Kelly

Big Questions

Here are two questions to ponder:

What issues in our world today do you think God really cares about? What are you doing about them?

Of Character, Dude with Attitude, and Girl with Cow

If you are listening, the Olympics offer many lessons on the human condition. Take for instance, two athletes, Bode Miller and Lindsay Kildow.

From the 60 Minutes interview with Bode Miller, we have this tidbit:

Does he think his partying has ever interfered with his performance? "Definitely. There's been times when I have been in really tough shape at the top of the course," says Miller. "Talk about a hard challenge right there. I mean, if you ever tried to ski when you're wasted, it's not easy. Try and ski a slalom when the gates are," Miller says, making a hand motion. "You hit a gate less than every one a second, so it's risky, you know. You're putting your life at risk there. It's like driving drunk only there's no rules about it in ski racing." Is he saying he'll never do it again? "No. I'm not saying that," Miller says.

I once watched a 14 year old get a broken leg at the bottom of the ski slopes after being whacked hard from behind from one of Bode's stoned compatriots, and it was not a pretty thing. Get fired up, America. We have another less than upstanding role model for kids on our Olympic team. And then, in giant Slalom, where does our role model place? Fourth. Poetic justice in my mind. He is already a millionaire, so my heart is not broken.

And then we have Linsey Kildow, who suffered a remarkable crash in early action this week, and after two days in the hospital, came back to ski to a fifth place finish in women's slalom. This, to me, is character, fighting through the pain, and coming back.

To top it off, Lindsay does not necessarily find money appealing all the time:

On Dec. 17, 2005, Kildow won the downhill in Val d'Isere, France, and with it came her choice of either the standard prize money, or slightly less money and a cow. She chose the cow package and named her new pet Olympe. "I'll miss her for a while, but oh well," said Kildow about her time apart from the animal. "We're not going to be together, but hopefully she'll be thinking about me." The animal is currently still in Val d'Isere, but Kildow has made arrangements to have it moved in October to Austria, where the women's team has apartments.

Which person would you choose to have your kids hang around with? I pick girl with cow over dude with attitude.

Downhill, Baby!

Alright people. Stop reading blogs, and watch the Olympics....