Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Monday, April 16, 2007
Deadliest Catch
Its April, and you know what that means! Baseball season, yes. But even more important, at least for the next couple of weeks, is a new season of "Deadliest Catch" on Discovery Channel.
The series details the journeys of five different fishing boats in the Bering Sea of Alaska, during the annual season for King Crab.
This is documentary TV at its very best. I watched last season religiously, and highly recommend it again this year.
Why do I love it so much? I think I know. Picture this: middle-aged balding white fellow with a relatively mundane office job, sometimes feeling as though his own life is a bit too routine, and musing over his place in life, sits on his family room couch in warm, temperate Southern California, feet up on coffee table. On the TV he is watching a bunch of men about his age and younger, daily risking their lives in the near-freezing Bering Sea. I am vicariously reveling in a life style I would never choose, but nevertheless respect.
And, as I watch, I am reminded of this. An old profession, indeed.
The series details the journeys of five different fishing boats in the Bering Sea of Alaska, during the annual season for King Crab.
This is documentary TV at its very best. I watched last season religiously, and highly recommend it again this year.
Why do I love it so much? I think I know. Picture this: middle-aged balding white fellow with a relatively mundane office job, sometimes feeling as though his own life is a bit too routine, and musing over his place in life, sits on his family room couch in warm, temperate Southern California, feet up on coffee table. On the TV he is watching a bunch of men about his age and younger, daily risking their lives in the near-freezing Bering Sea. I am vicariously reveling in a life style I would never choose, but nevertheless respect.
And, as I watch, I am reminded of this. An old profession, indeed.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Finding Solitude, Amidst The Rush
Humming. Honking. A rush, a sort of buzz in the distance. Never a quiet moment, a constant under current of noise. Subtle, yet pervasive.One of the memories that I always have carried with me of New York City, both from our recent visit, and that of many prior trips, is the constant city noise. It is as if you are living in the midst of a gigantic human body; always hearing the noise of blood rushing around you. A massive organism that indeed never sleeps.
These are the sounds of most of our lives. Unrelenting sounds. White noise, in the midst of the constant rush. Come to think of it, my own life is nearly constantly accompanied by sound. The clock alarm awakes me, most days at 6:40 AM to the sound of classical music. From there I enter the shower, listening to NPR as I rinse and repeat. Then on to getting dressed while watching the Weather Channel ("It Could Happen Here!) or MSNBC, if only for a moment. Then off to work with more sound in the car, albeit Pray-as-you-go (which is wonderful). Then to confirm my crazy need for noise, I arrive at my office, where I immediately switch on the classical music again.
I have been like this for nearly every day of my 48.5 years! What happened to quiet? When was it decided that noise rules?
What about the Desert Fathers, and leading a life that learns from the "alone" parts of Jesus life? Where is silence, reflection, solitude? Where have they gone, and why are our lives like this?
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Wholeness from Emptyness
It is a mystery and a paradox that from an empty place can come wholeness, healing, life transformed. Two of my friends....both very different fellows, have some very unique ideas relating to Easter.
First, Rob Asghar talks about his thoughts on an empty tomb and reconciliation with his Muslim mother.
And then, Tod Bolsinger has an interesting reply, if you will, to Rob's thoughts about that empty tomb.
My take is this. For far too long, we Christian folk have let the facades and organization of the organized church speak for us. This may be why Rob is so troubled by the way Christianity in the west seems to have been hijacked by politics. Rightly so, Rob! I can't stand this. However, I am not sure abandonment of church is a solution, we need folks like you with your contrarian views. We are not all loons, and you surely know this.
But I do know this, the tomb was empty, is empty, and offers great hope. If we can just carve Jesus loose from the confines of the church and politics, then there is a pure message of Gospel hope.
Christos Anesti!
First, Rob Asghar talks about his thoughts on an empty tomb and reconciliation with his Muslim mother.
And then, Tod Bolsinger has an interesting reply, if you will, to Rob's thoughts about that empty tomb.
My take is this. For far too long, we Christian folk have let the facades and organization of the organized church speak for us. This may be why Rob is so troubled by the way Christianity in the west seems to have been hijacked by politics. Rightly so, Rob! I can't stand this. However, I am not sure abandonment of church is a solution, we need folks like you with your contrarian views. We are not all loons, and you surely know this.
But I do know this, the tomb was empty, is empty, and offers great hope. If we can just carve Jesus loose from the confines of the church and politics, then there is a pure message of Gospel hope.
Christos Anesti!
Friday, April 06, 2007
What's so Good about Friday?
Total loss. Complete dejection. That knot in the pit of your stomach. That sense of dread, of fear, of uncertainty, even about tomorrow.
It's the phone call in the middle of the night that you did not expect. That relationship that seems irreversibly broken, with no possibility to mend.
Holding the hand of a dying parent, with no hope in sight. The inexplicable loss of a child. The end of the road. Ruins.
Last Thursday, I stood at the edge of Ground Zero in New York, the sight of the greatest single catastrophe in our country in the past 50+ years. Even as someone whose job deals with large real estate developments constantly, I was surprised at the scope of it all.
On that September day now more than 5 years ago, the weight of shock and loss in New York was beyond comprehension. This was a depth that seemed insurmountable. In my conversations with New Yorkers this past week, the topic of 9/11 would come up in the natural coarse of conversation; "ever since 9/11", or "since the tragic events of 9/11". 9/11. That is all you need to say. And I detected a momentary pause in the conversations, when the events of that day were, only briefly, recalled. But in that pause, volumes were communicated. All the pain, all the loss, all the despair.
And so, its Good Friday. And what is so good about this day? What is so good about a single purported Jewish mystic loosing his life more than 2,000 years ago? Is it just another death, another loss, more ancient pain, leading to nothing today?
Or might it be more, might it mean so much more. Might it not be the beginning of the most significant turning point in a remarkable mystery?
If you ask New Yorkers how they feel today about the events of the past 5 years, they would like have a million different answers. But I can tell you this, Ground Zero is now fully of cranes, trucks, construction workers shouting at one another, concrete trucks, noise, and the sounds of rebuilding. Its a nearly constant hum, which is the sound that all of New York gives off, 24 hours a day. That is what New Yorkers are, if nothing else. Rebuilders, renewers, movers, shakers; a city that recovers. And they are clearly recovering.
A whole in the ground. Immense, immeasurably, permanent pain. And strangely now, rebuilding, rebirth, renewal.
Maybe Good Friday is really, in the end, Good News.
It's the phone call in the middle of the night that you did not expect. That relationship that seems irreversibly broken, with no possibility to mend.
Holding the hand of a dying parent, with no hope in sight. The inexplicable loss of a child. The end of the road. Ruins.
Last Thursday, I stood at the edge of Ground Zero in New York, the sight of the greatest single catastrophe in our country in the past 50+ years. Even as someone whose job deals with large real estate developments constantly, I was surprised at the scope of it all.
On that September day now more than 5 years ago, the weight of shock and loss in New York was beyond comprehension. This was a depth that seemed insurmountable. In my conversations with New Yorkers this past week, the topic of 9/11 would come up in the natural coarse of conversation; "ever since 9/11", or "since the tragic events of 9/11". 9/11. That is all you need to say. And I detected a momentary pause in the conversations, when the events of that day were, only briefly, recalled. But in that pause, volumes were communicated. All the pain, all the loss, all the despair.
And so, its Good Friday. And what is so good about this day? What is so good about a single purported Jewish mystic loosing his life more than 2,000 years ago? Is it just another death, another loss, more ancient pain, leading to nothing today?
Or might it be more, might it mean so much more. Might it not be the beginning of the most significant turning point in a remarkable mystery?
If you ask New Yorkers how they feel today about the events of the past 5 years, they would like have a million different answers. But I can tell you this, Ground Zero is now fully of cranes, trucks, construction workers shouting at one another, concrete trucks, noise, and the sounds of rebuilding. Its a nearly constant hum, which is the sound that all of New York gives off, 24 hours a day. That is what New Yorkers are, if nothing else. Rebuilders, renewers, movers, shakers; a city that recovers. And they are clearly recovering.
A whole in the ground. Immense, immeasurably, permanent pain. And strangely now, rebuilding, rebirth, renewal.
Maybe Good Friday is really, in the end, Good News.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Oh! The Humanity!
People. Everywhere. Above ground and below it in subway tunnels. Hurtling forward, like the rest of this city. Hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands, millions. Overwhelming. Huge. Massive. All sizes, shapes, ages, nationalities, and every type of mental and emotional disposition. Buildings stacked one against another.
Welcome to New York City, baby. This city defines so many terms; urban, megalopolis, the city that never sleeps, high density development.
Being here for four days leaves me thinking about the way that I view life. I am a Southern Californian, born and raised. I come from the land of the great sprawl, which is the exact opposite of this city, which really is the great compaction, if you will.
After an absence of many years (I used to visit here often in the 1980s), I have come to New York with a new perspective, willing to learn and experience.
Bottom line, I love it here. There is so much to offer; in spite of the crime, the crowding, the noise, it is after all, one of the greatest concentrations of humanity on the planet. I also wonder about the Christ followers here, and what their lives are like. I plan to do some searching around for Manhattan bloggers that I might enjoy reading.
And in a new way, I have been reminded of this. More soon, as time permits. Home to Southern Cal tomorrow.
By the way, we had a blast!
Saturday, March 31, 2007
The Big Apple Adventure
Monday morning at Oh-Dark-Thirty, we Norris' are off for four days in New York City, baby!
I hope to blog on my impressions of New York, after an absence of 13 years. Much adventuring with lovely wife and teenage daughters!
Stay tuned.
I hope to blog on my impressions of New York, after an absence of 13 years. Much adventuring with lovely wife and teenage daughters!
Stay tuned.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Going Solar in South Pasadena
Last summer, I came home one day to find a $550 electric bill for our home. After I picked my jaw up off the floor, I was on the Internet looking into solar power.
Now, since I am in the commercial real estate business, I am not always the environmentalist NIMBYs best friend. But when it hurts my wallet, I can hug a tree, or sit in one, with the best of them.
And so, we are in the process this week of installing solar panels on the roof of our home. Being pretty much of a geek, I am jazzed about this. Our 5.2 KW system should roughly cut the "carbon footprint" of our home by about 50%. The payoff for the cost of the system should be approximately 8 years, and the internal rate of return of this investment is about 15%, based on current utility rates, and factoring modestly for inflation. I will even have the system report to my PC each day, so I can come home and obsess about my power savings. Matter of fact, now that I have this system, bring ON the global warming, baby!
Take that, Al Gore!
Now, since I am in the commercial real estate business, I am not always the environmentalist NIMBYs best friend. But when it hurts my wallet, I can hug a tree, or sit in one, with the best of them.
And so, we are in the process this week of installing solar panels on the roof of our home. Being pretty much of a geek, I am jazzed about this. Our 5.2 KW system should roughly cut the "carbon footprint" of our home by about 50%. The payoff for the cost of the system should be approximately 8 years, and the internal rate of return of this investment is about 15%, based on current utility rates, and factoring modestly for inflation. I will even have the system report to my PC each day, so I can come home and obsess about my power savings. Matter of fact, now that I have this system, bring ON the global warming, baby!
Take that, Al Gore!
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Christ Killer to Christ Follower
This past Sunday, I listened to a remarkable story. One I have heard before, but never grows old. Its the story of the journey of one man's life, of great love and great loss, and of redemption.
My friend Frank was asked to share his "testimony", as we church folk call it, at a meeting of our congregation. We should have all gone home as soon as he was done; nothing else we said or did or voted on afterward seemed to matter after we hear Frank's story.
Frank was born more than 80 years ago, and grew up in a Jewish family. The first time he ever heard of Christ was in Kindergarten, when one of the other kids called him a "Christ killer" on the playground.
Like my own father, Frank enlisted to serve in World War II, and right as the war ended, he married his bride of more than 60 years, Jane. They moved to Southern California and started their life together. Kids came along, and it was time to find a church. Jane came from a Christian family, and they ended up at our church. There, Frank heard the preaching of Ray Lindquist, and heard about Christ in a way he never had before. Soon, Frank found himself at a church retreat, listening to Major Ian Thomas. His life had become changed, permanently.
Frank went on to tell how, after the raising of his family, and being rewarded with success in business and life, along with many grandchildren, "everything seemed to fall apart" in the last couple of years. In the past several years, Frank and Jane have witnessed the death of their oldest daughter Jan, a wonderful wife and mother of a beautiful family of her own. She was too young to die, too full of life and hope and joy. It was brain cancer, and it was not pretty.
And then, at about the same time, Frank found out that he had ALS, Lou Gehrig's disease. There was nothing he could do about it. His body would continue to deteriorate, but his mind would remain completely alert. Just like Stehphen Hawking. Since then, Frank has spend a week in a coma, and in various hospitals for nearly six months. He is back at home now, enjoying mornings by his pool in his wheelchair. Thankful.
Frank spoke to us from his wheelchair, with his breathing controlled by a ventilator. He cannot move at all, and requires nearly constant assistance. And yet, he spoke to us of hope, and love, and God's care for he and his family.
I have always said, I want to be like Frank when I grow up. Thank you Frank, for your story, for your life, and for the joy you still radiate to everyone around you.
From great pain, great faith.
My friend Frank was asked to share his "testimony", as we church folk call it, at a meeting of our congregation. We should have all gone home as soon as he was done; nothing else we said or did or voted on afterward seemed to matter after we hear Frank's story.
Frank was born more than 80 years ago, and grew up in a Jewish family. The first time he ever heard of Christ was in Kindergarten, when one of the other kids called him a "Christ killer" on the playground.
Like my own father, Frank enlisted to serve in World War II, and right as the war ended, he married his bride of more than 60 years, Jane. They moved to Southern California and started their life together. Kids came along, and it was time to find a church. Jane came from a Christian family, and they ended up at our church. There, Frank heard the preaching of Ray Lindquist, and heard about Christ in a way he never had before. Soon, Frank found himself at a church retreat, listening to Major Ian Thomas. His life had become changed, permanently.
Frank went on to tell how, after the raising of his family, and being rewarded with success in business and life, along with many grandchildren, "everything seemed to fall apart" in the last couple of years. In the past several years, Frank and Jane have witnessed the death of their oldest daughter Jan, a wonderful wife and mother of a beautiful family of her own. She was too young to die, too full of life and hope and joy. It was brain cancer, and it was not pretty.
And then, at about the same time, Frank found out that he had ALS, Lou Gehrig's disease. There was nothing he could do about it. His body would continue to deteriorate, but his mind would remain completely alert. Just like Stehphen Hawking. Since then, Frank has spend a week in a coma, and in various hospitals for nearly six months. He is back at home now, enjoying mornings by his pool in his wheelchair. Thankful.
Frank spoke to us from his wheelchair, with his breathing controlled by a ventilator. He cannot move at all, and requires nearly constant assistance. And yet, he spoke to us of hope, and love, and God's care for he and his family.
I have always said, I want to be like Frank when I grow up. Thank you Frank, for your story, for your life, and for the joy you still radiate to everyone around you.
From great pain, great faith.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Mexican Food & Evolution
Last week, my oldest daughter Kelly and I stopped for a Mexican food dinner during a busy evening of errands and tutoring. She is taking high school biology this year, and having a rather rough go of it, but is hanging in there, and learning a lot.
We had a great conversation about what she is learning, and the relative merits of evolution versus creation, very much along the lines of these thoughts by Dr. Richard Mouw, President of Fuller Seminary. I am thankful beyond words for these little moments of connection in a life that moves way too darn fast.
On a totally separate note, I appreciate the thoughts of Ben about the Edward's decision to keep on running.
That is all for today. Soon, updates on solar power!
I am also very thankful for the sharp mind and creative thinking of my 16 year old, that she lives in the real world that God created, but hasn't yet given up hope on the Creator.
We had a great conversation about what she is learning, and the relative merits of evolution versus creation, very much along the lines of these thoughts by Dr. Richard Mouw, President of Fuller Seminary. I am thankful beyond words for these little moments of connection in a life that moves way too darn fast.
On a totally separate note, I appreciate the thoughts of Ben about the Edward's decision to keep on running.
That is all for today. Soon, updates on solar power!
I am also very thankful for the sharp mind and creative thinking of my 16 year old, that she lives in the real world that God created, but hasn't yet given up hope on the Creator.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Oh My.....Final Four Baby!
The past several weeks have been torturous for us Bruin fans. Two losses to end the season, including one embarrassing one to Cal in the Pac Ten Tournament. Aaron Afflalo playing well below his capability. Bruins winning games on defense. But tonight! For the last 43 straight games, Kansas had held their opponents to under 50 points. No more. Afflalo - 24 points!
Final score: UCLA 68, Kansas 55.
Here we come, Atlanta!
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Doing Things Differently
From Dallas Willard's latest book:
"Why should one insist on the exclusiveness of Christianity if all it is is one more cultural form? But let the reality of Christian spiritual formation come to its fullness, and exclusiveness will
take care of itself. If the witch and the warlock, the Buddhist and the Muslim, can truly walk in a holiness and power equal to that of Jesus Christ and his devoted followers, there is nothing more to say. But Christ himself, and not Christianity as of form of human culture, is the standard by which "we"
as well as "they" are to be measured (Acts 17:31).
Are we seriously and realistically about the business of Christian spiritual formation as measured by the unqualified love of Jesus Christ, and as specified by our "job description" in the Great Commission?....How much of what goes on in ourselves, our local assemblies, our denominations, and our (Christian) schools, is dictated only by 'futile ways inherited from our ancestors" (I Peter1:18)?
Suppose we were to engage in ground-zero planning, planning which, armed with the best theological and psychological understanding, considers only the aim without attempting to salvage or justify what is already in placethrough previous efforts. How much of what we do would be omitted? And how much of what we now omit would be done, if all we were trying to do was to bring ourselves and others "to do all things whatsoever I have commanded you"?
This just might be what Jesus is asking us.......
Monday, March 19, 2007
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Matt is Planning Another Trip
I love this. Matt is planning another trip. Here are outakes from his last trip.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Jesus As a Magic Clown
My friend Julie, and Professor Dallas Willard have me thinking about the Jesus we may have created in our minds - as opposed to the Christ of the Scriptures.After a bit of thought, and based on my recent reading and reflection on this book, I think we church people might have created a caricature Jesus, as in Jesus the Happy Magic Clown.
Not the real thing, but a funny looking shell of the genuine article. Stripped of Divinity, and simplified by our culture. New and improved. Now with Sin Whacking Bleach - you can have the whitest whites ever! Just believe, and He makes everything better!
My college chum Julie has illustrated better than I ever could the way the church does not own up to its shortcomings in this article about the Ted Haggard tragedy. And then, reading Dallas Willard's latest book, I was struck by this question:
"How many churches do you know that actually have a plan in place to teach people to do everything Jesus said?" How about THAT?
So, we are left with Clown Jesus, a sad American version of the real thing. He does what we need, when we need it, for as long as we need it, and then, stays out of the way. Just like a rented birthday party clown, when his tricks are over, he will sit quietly in the corner eating cake.
He can forgive us of our sins, just like that! But inside his heart, he would like to show us more, much more. He wants to give us an abundant life, truly. What would happen if we gave him the darker parts of our lives, our money, or maybe even our anger. But we did not rent him for those other things, just the animal party balloons and general sin forgiveness. No financial lordship, no anger management.
And so, Jesus the Happy Magic Clown sits quietly, out of the way, waiting. What he really wants is for us to remove his costume, the wild wig, and the rubber nose, and see him for what is really is. Fully human, yet fully Devine. A mystery. Partner in Creation. The Atonement. Good Shepard. Yahweh.
No wonder it feels easier to keep the costume on him.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Want to Help Transform the World
Saturday night my wife and I attended the International Justice Mission dinner in Los Angeles. They will also be a part of this event:
We cannot be ignorant any longer. I am in to help. Are you?
We cannot be ignorant any longer. I am in to help. Are you?
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Strange Man in Shades Plans Marathon
The strange man in the shades in this undated photo is planning on running a marathon for a very good cause.
Although in dire need of recognition, and at the same time, dealing with lack of affection issues, he is basically a good fellow.
Support him here. I am.
The Dangerous Act of Worship
About 20 months ago, during the darkest time in the history of our church, when we were in the midst of a painful split, a dear friend gave me two CDs to listen to. I am a fussy listener to sermons, and so, this was an act of bravery for my friend. I don't do well with about 80% of Christian radio; it bores me.
Soon after, I needed to be in my car for about a 3 hour drive, and I listened to the CDs, recorded at a retreat several weeks before. The speaker was the Rev. Mark Labberton, and for the next three hours I found myself at once thrilled, challenged, laughing, convicted, and in tears. For me, Mark "gets it" about what it means to follow Christ in the real world.
Then, about six months later, as my family and I were taking an emotional break from the near insanity of the hysteria that had surrounded our church, I took a weekend away for a retreat, at which Mark was the speaker. After the first night, several of us stayed behind to chat, share a bottle of wine, and enjoy each other's company. Mark joined us, and I found him to be an engaging, relaxed fellow (remarkably so, for a pastor-type) with a refreshing view of things Christian. His topic for the weekend was worship. I loved every word, and at the same time, felt convicted and challenged in new ways.
Mark has just completed a book which should become required reading for all of us confused, or wondering, or just trying to get an understanding of what in the world the concept of worship really means. The title of this book is "The Dangerous Act of Worship", and the premise of this title is well taken.
We silly church folk have been embroiled in a lot of chatter over the past couple of decades about worship. Worship styles, worship settings, the meaning of worship, on and on and on. It seems endless. To me, most of this discussion has felt like meaningless prattling; silly and trivial banter about a topic that is so far beyond our real reach we have little idea about what we really are talking about.
In this book, Mark Labberton takes us on a journey about the real meaning of worship, and makes some very disturbing observations about the state of the church as it approaches the concepts of worship. His first observation: much of the American church is asleep (me included)! I could not agree more.
More soon. Meantime, buy the darn book. You will be very glad you did.
Soon after, I needed to be in my car for about a 3 hour drive, and I listened to the CDs, recorded at a retreat several weeks before. The speaker was the Rev. Mark Labberton, and for the next three hours I found myself at once thrilled, challenged, laughing, convicted, and in tears. For me, Mark "gets it" about what it means to follow Christ in the real world.
Then, about six months later, as my family and I were taking an emotional break from the near insanity of the hysteria that had surrounded our church, I took a weekend away for a retreat, at which Mark was the speaker. After the first night, several of us stayed behind to chat, share a bottle of wine, and enjoy each other's company. Mark joined us, and I found him to be an engaging, relaxed fellow (remarkably so, for a pastor-type) with a refreshing view of things Christian. His topic for the weekend was worship. I loved every word, and at the same time, felt convicted and challenged in new ways.
Mark has just completed a book which should become required reading for all of us confused, or wondering, or just trying to get an understanding of what in the world the concept of worship really means. The title of this book is "The Dangerous Act of Worship", and the premise of this title is well taken.
We silly church folk have been embroiled in a lot of chatter over the past couple of decades about worship. Worship styles, worship settings, the meaning of worship, on and on and on. It seems endless. To me, most of this discussion has felt like meaningless prattling; silly and trivial banter about a topic that is so far beyond our real reach we have little idea about what we really are talking about.
In this book, Mark Labberton takes us on a journey about the real meaning of worship, and makes some very disturbing observations about the state of the church as it approaches the concepts of worship. His first observation: much of the American church is asleep (me included)! I could not agree more.
More soon. Meantime, buy the darn book. You will be very glad you did.
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