Look who gets the good news....

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger. Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests. (Luke 2:8-14, NIV)

It's Monday of Christmas week...and echoing in my mind is a lesson that recurs in my mind every year at this time. It's a powerful lesson I learned about shepherds nearly 7 years ago, in one of my first ministry classes. Some who have listened to me for a while have heard this before. But I think it's an image that bears repeating...

It's very easy to picture the peaceful scene Luke describes...of flocks of sheep grazing, and shepherds watching over them. In my mind, I always hear Handel's "Pastoral Symphony" playing in the background...but unfortunately, that doesn't present much of the truth at all. You see, in Biblical times, shepherds were considered some of the most distrusted, dishonorable, dishonest, and lowly people of all the world. Listen to what professor of ministry Donald Messer says about shepherds:

"Far from being a noble profession, the job of shepherd in first-century Palestine was one of the most despised trades, along with gamblers, usurers, and publicans. Contrary to our romantic images, shepherds were generally considered to be thieves. Far from being viewed as reliable and responsible, they were habitually known to graze on other people's lands and to pilfer the produce of the herd. Their social and religious status would not be much higher than pimps and drug pushers in our day. They, like the publicans and tax collectors, therefore, were deprived of their civil rights. They could not fulfill a judicial office or be witnesses in a court. It was forbidden to buy wool, milk, or a kid from a shepherd - because it was widely assumed that it would be stolen property. One ancient writing reports that 'no position in the world is so despised as that of the shepherd.'" (Donald Messer, Contemporary Images of Christian Ministry (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1989), page 172.)

Yet Luke reports that the first ones to hear of Jesus' birth were shepherds - among the most despised people in their world! Can you imagine their shock - to find out they were the first ones to be eye-witnesses of God's majesty? And can you imagine the people they talked to afterwards? No wonder Luke writes that everyone who heard of Jesus' birth from the shepherds "wondered at the things told them by the shepherds"!

When you read it that way, it's not a very pretty scene, is it?

No, it's not. And it's not meant to be.

God didn't mean it to be pretty. God meant it to be real.

Let's put it in today's words. Jesus could have come as a triumphant warrior-king, bristling with power, to smite the evil and establish a kingdom built on power. But that wasn't God's plan at all. There was no royalty, no engraved invitations for the rich and mighty to the arrival of God's son. Instead, there was an obscure town of Bethlehem, in the filthy corner of a barn, in a feed trough, where a confused carpenter was witness to the birth of God's son to his teen-aged wife-to-be. Wonder with me at how the despised and lowly men tending sheep felt as angels from Heaven give them the telegram: "...Born to you this day is a Savior, which is Christ the Lord." The news of God's son had come - not to those who felt they deserved to hear, sitting comfortably at the Temple - but to those who needed the news most! Creatures who thought that their sins had left them without a prayer were the ones who found that the salvation of the world had come first to them!

And what does it say of the one who becomes "the Good Shepherd"? Messer points out that this oxymoron is the equivalent to saying "I am the the Good Homosexual" to the religious right, or "I am the Good Fundamentalist" to the gay & lesbian community, or like saying "I am the Good Terrorist" - because in those days, shepherds were just that despised. Messer writes, "It is no wonder that after Jesus called himself 'the Good Shepherd' the Gospel of John reports, 'there was again a division among the Jews because of these words (John 10:19)" (page 173). Jesus identified with the lowly, and with the despised - and yet turned that despising description on its head, transforming the label as he did everything else he touched.

As I celebrate - as I sing praises of joy for "God with us" - let me never lose the amazement and wonder of those who witnessed the birth of our Savior. And let me never forget that if God could be present and "with them" in the mess of the stable, surrounded by the disreputable and untouchable ones of that time, then God can and is surely with me, during the messes of my life, and when I feel unworthy and apart from the rest of the world. It is in the most impossible of my own times and situations that I have to remember the amazingly unlikely people and places that were part of the story of God's arrival on earth. And I also remember that I am the unlikely - and undeserving - recipient of the gift of grace brought by Jesus to the world. May I continue to stand by the manger in wonder at the astonishing love of God for you, and for me!

Do not be afraid....

But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, "Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins." (Matthew 1:20-21, NIV)

I'm sure he must have been surprised
at where this road had taken him
'Cause never in a million lives
would he have dreamed of Bethlehem
And standing at the manger, he saw with his own eyes
the message from the angel come to life - and Joseph said,

Why me? I'm just a simple man of trade!
Why Him, with all the rulers in the world?
Why here, inside this stable filled with hay?
Why her? she's just an ordinary girl!
Now I'm not one to second-guess
what angels have to say -
But this is such a strange way to save the world.
(4Him, "A Strange Way to Save The World",
on "The Season of Love" CD)

I don't know which would have been stronger - my fear and terror to be visited by an angel, or my utter incredulity at the message the angel brought. When storyteller Ed Stivender tells the story of Joseph's visitation, Joseph hears the announcement, and says,"You have just GOT to be kidding me." The angel replies, in a Gregorian-chant kind of way, "No - angels aren't allowed to kid."

"Don't be afraid, Joseph - what seems like despoiling your virgin fiancee' and attacking your reputation is actually the work of God. The Law tells you that you can divorce her, even have her quietly killed. All I'm telling you to do is disregard everything that your mind tells you to do - because this is God's plan, not an earthly plan."

I just love "A Strange Way to Save the World" - it has become one of my all-time Christmas favorites, precisely because it speaks to my own heart. If I were Joseph, I'd be asking, "What the hell kind of plan is this, God? What's this baby going to do to save the world? It all seems so, so impossible." But then I'm reminded...that's what God does best of all...

When God's messengers tell me that the road I walk is going to change, of *course* I'm afraid, at first (and often for a while after that, too). I've experienced that a lot this last year...and I've learned, time and time again, that "walk by faith" can be three terrifying words, sometimes. I'd much rather stick to my own plan, time and time again. The only problem is, I'm usually not given a choice...

The good news is, Scripture tells us that Joseph pioneered this road for us. When we are called to step out in faith, and we can't see where the next step will take us, the angel says to us as well: "Do not be afraid...the word Emmanuel is still true: our God is still with us."

For me, there is an amazing comfort simply in knowing this is true.

Being an outsider

One of the best blogs I've found is my brother Rick's a new life emerging. The more I read him, the more I am convinced we are what Dan Fogelberg called "twin sons of different mothers." He and I are frequently on similar wavelengths, and it has been great to get to "know" him in the blogosphere.

However, his posting on being an outsider is one of his best. (I'll warn you ahead of time that his language - like mine - can get, well, colorful...especially on this post.) I strongly identified with being an outsider in church, but on a number of different levels.

First, in the Lutheran tradition, there are a whole lotta "cradle Lutherans" - folks who were born into Lutheran families, baptized as infants, dragged to church every Sunday, and have never stopped going because "it's what you do when you're a Lutheran." I give thanks for those people, and for their example of faith - but their stories have nothing whatsoever to do with my life after age 13.

These are the people who are 30 and 40 (or more) years old...who attend the same church where they attended as children, where their confirmation pictures still hang on the wall in hallways. Now for guys like me, who attended three different high schools, that level of permanence and institutionality is completely foreign to me. On one hand, I long for that level of anchoring to a place and a community - and on the other, I can't imagine giving up the amazing diversity of experience that I've had by being as mobile as I have been.

Another place where I find my "apart-from-ness" is the fact that from age 17 to age 34 - more than a third of my life - I wanted nothing to do with God, or the church. Admitting that little fact in church gets me more weird stares than admitting that I'm a recovering drunk! People have asked me the strangest questions after that admission - things like, "So what did you do on Sunday mornings?" (as if people who aren't in church just go off into the ether until after services end, and then show up at Denny's or Bob Evans, fighting the "good folk" for tables). I usually give 'em the answer my sister once gave me: "I was worshiping at St. Mattress's" (sleeping-in, in order words). I don't want to tell you how many people have asked, "So where IS that congregation?..."

I've come to realize that this lack of common experience at least partly accounts for the lack of willingness in many mainstream denominations to reach out to unchurched people - because a goodly churnk of "churched" folk can't understand why anyone would not want to be at church! Their attitude toward unchurched people is what I once saw on a drum-&-bugle-corp fan's t-shirt: on the front, To those that understand, no explanation is necessary; and on the back, To those that do not, no explanation is possible.

To "cradle church-goers," the idea of being lost is completely foreign, because they firmly believe that you can't be "lost" if you're at church. They have never understood the difference between being "a churchian" and "a Christian." They've never comprehended the thought I heard first in an AA meeting, that "just because you spend six hundred meetings in a McDonalds, it doesn't make you a hamburger." I know I've quoted it before, but it's still a good set of words from our late brother Keith Green:

The world is sleeping in the dark
That the church just can't fight
'Cause they're asleep in the light -
How can you be so dead,
When you've been so well fed?

I'm glad that my cradle-church-members have had enduring faith traditions and practices. For a number of people, those traditions teach much about faith practices. I think it's important to teach, however, that church attendance, tradition, and discipleship are three entirely different things - and that you can have the first two without ever coming close to the third. I believe that's why there are so many efforts toward re-visioning and re-vitalizing mainline churches, and why the "emergent church" is such a hot topic...because people are finding out on which side of the churchian/Christian divide they are, and the answer disturbs them.

One of my favorite quotes from Rick's profile says, "Personally, I don't have the guts to follow Jesus, so I often settle for being a Christian." It's desperately true for me as well (although I admit that I would have paid money to have thought up a line that clever, first!). I also think he's a little harder on himself than he might deserve. But I know that I can't coast uphill, only downhill - and that even on a level surface, if I'm not pedaling forward, I'll fall over. So I have to "keep my eye on the prize," even as I know I have a long way to go to "get there."

But I'm grateful to have sisters and brothers like I have met here in the blogosphere with whom I can share the journey from "where I'm at" to "where I'm called to be." And thanks, Rick, for some great inspiration.

Another year, one day at a time

"My whole life has conspired to bring me to this place, and I can't despise my whole life..." (Joe Pitt, in the HBO DVD, Angels in America: Perestroika)

December 12, 1990. About 8:29 PM, I slunk into the Chapter V Club on Airport Highway in Toledo, Ohio for my very first AA meeting. I tried looking inconspicuous - but one guy got a look at my eyes, came right over to me and said, "You're new here, aren't you?" He led me to the coffee-pot, made sure I got a seat, and then left me blessedly alone for a bit. I don't remember much of the gist of that first meeting - I'm sure they talked about the 12-step program of recovery, and I'm sure there was some God-talk that made me more than a little nervous. I remember thinking that the Lord's Prayer, said at the end of the meeting, was the single most comprehensible thing I'd heard the whole meeting.

But at the end of the meeting, two promises were delivered to me that changed my life forever. A Ford tool-&-die worker, just shy of 30 years sober, came up to me, looked me in the eyes, and said, "Steve, you never have to feel the way you feel tonight - ever again - if you don't want to." And another man said to me, "You're welcome here, son - and you never have to be alone again, if you don't want to be."

So far as I can tell, they both were absolutely right...for which I give much thanks.

Recently, as I've been visiting churches and talking theology with friends and fellow bloggers, I've been asking myself this question: "What if the primary mission of the church was to make those two promises from my first AA meeting a reality for our church members and visitors, rather than either focusing on getting new members, or simply saving them from some future eternal punishment? What if we stopped trying to save people from Hell in the afterlife, and worked to save them from the various hells they are in right now?"

What if the Christian church, in all its forms and places, stopped the "We've got Jesus, yes we do/we've got Jesus, how 'bout YOU?" chanting, and simply said, "Welcome. Come on in. You don't have to admit, or profess, or decide anything today...you're welcome here. Regardless of where you are, where you're from, what you're wearing, what you've been or done, or what you believe, trust this: this is a place of peace and safety for you." Can you even imagine it?....

At 8:30 p.m. tonight, I was sharing a delightful dinner with two other AA guys up in Evanston - one with nearly 30 years of sobriety, and one with about 30 days. We laughed about some of the tragic situations in each other's lives, sighed as we talked about the character defects that still raise their ugly heads on a daily basis, and chatted about subjects far and wide. And we each left the restaurant, grateful for the meal, grateful for the fellowship, and thanking God (as we each misunderstood God) for the incredible blessing of continuous sobriety.

Fourteen years. It's a long time between drinks. For people who aren't alcoholic, they often wonder, "What's the big deal?" But I am grateful that almost everyone I know today has never seen me drunk, or naked in public, or known the shameful behavior that brought me to my "bottom" all those years ago.

This last year has been one of the hardest in my sobriety, from a number of standpoints. I have to admit that there has been a time or two when what one man called "a sabbatical from sobriety" sounded like a really good idea...but I'm grateful that I didn't have to choose that road. And there have been a number of other times in the last 13 months that I have desperately wished that my life could have been different, somehow...that I could have chosen differently, a time or two, so those choices would not have led up to the place where I find myself today - in my career, in my calling, in my finances and romances, you name it. But as Joe Pitt says, I am the product of my entire life - and while I can wish it was different, I can't despise it...because every bit of it makes up who and what I am today.

Whenever I get the chance, I share parts of my past with folks, both inside and outside the AA fellowship. I do it for two reasons: first, to remind myself of where I came from (and where I can easily go back to). But I also share the truth of my past with others so that they know that transformation and restoration is possible - not just for "guys like me," but for folks like them as well. "Our God is an awesome God," indeed...

One thing I do know: my sobriety is not my own doing. There are no congratulations due to me...because left to my own devices, I would be drunk tonight. This precious, precious gift of continuous sobriety is entirely a gift of grace - my only part in it has been the honesty to know that I needed it, the open-mindedness to accept direction (occasionally) from God, and his willing servants in recovery and in faith, and the willingness to accept the gift as it is offered to me on a daily basis. That, my friends, is h.o.w. it works - and I give thanks to God today for the stockbroker, the doctor, and the sister who made it all possible.

Abandon yourself to God as you understand God. Admit your faults to Him and to your fellows. Clear away the wreckage of your past. Give freely of what you find and join us. We shall be with you in the Fellowship of the Spirit, and you will surely meet some of us as you trudge the Road of Happy Destiny. May God bless you and keep you - until then. (From Alcoholics Anonymous, page 164)

Catch-up time...

...It has been a long day - supposedly a day off, but I've been on the move since 7 AM. I feel like I've been out of touch, in a number of ways. Part of it is that I just haven't felt real well - not so much "sick" as just "not entirely right."

I changed my blog profile today - in a burst of honesty, my personal designation is now "former seminary student." It's an admission that while my ministry is far from done, my seminary career is on "hold," for the foreseeable future, anyway. I guess what triggered it was some early morning reviewing of my financial status, and knowing that (barring a winning lottery ticket) I will not have enough of my bills paid back in order to get back to school by January 31, the start of the Spring semester. But part of it has been recognizing that I've been "apart from" the seminary community (with the exception of a few stalwart companions) for a while now. At least for the time being, my path is not the same as their path...and as lousy as it feels to admit that, it's still true.

Tonight was an "end of semester" party at one of the student's apartments. I was e-invited...and probably would have been welcomed, if I'd shown up. But the fact is, the semester never started for me, so there is no cause for celebration on its ending, I guess. I have no common ground with the folks who struggled through Systematic Theology, or Hebrew, or "Jesus & the Gospels"...because I wasn't there. At least a part of the core of my understanding of community has to do with "shared experience" - and the simple (if annoying) fact is that I have no experiences that I share with my former classmates anymore. We live on the same block - some of them live in the same building - but we are rapidly growing apart in experience.

The good news is that I had a very good day - primarily because I was immersed in being of service in the program of recovery. I heard from one fellow AA early this AM, had a sponsee take me out to lunch, spent the afternoon with him, went to speak at a meeting in Pilsen tonight, and then out to a late dinner afterwards. Every part of that was a true gift from God.

For now, I'm thankful for another day of life - thankful for the people in my life - and thankful that the lessons I've had to learn haven't ended up being fatal yet. And if that's as good as it gets, I'll take it.

"God Is Still Speaking..."

Dear Lord, hear this simple prayer: let the UCC's new TV ad be right. Let it be that You are still speaking, even if we don't listen very much. "Cast me not away from your presence, and take not your Holy Spirit from me..."

There are several things that have brought me hope amidst the despair of a number of situations - first, the suicide of a friend of friends, with all the wreckage and grief that brings. Then hearing about several friends, here and in Kansas, whose recovery has shattered and who are in the midst of daily self-destruction. And it's been a long, busy week, and I'm just kind of drained on several levels. But there is still hope...

First, hope comes in a book that has been sitting on my shelf for three years - Churchquake! by C. Peter Wagner. Like so many people for the last 30 years, he predicts the eventual demise of most traditional denominational church structures. Unlike a lot of people, he sees "the new apostolic reformation" raising up new wine for new wineskins, and affirming the work and research of lots of people I admire - whether you start with Michael Slaughter and Adam Hamilton and work up, or start with Lyle Schaller and work down. I need to digest a lot more of the book before I discuss it, but it's a worthwhile read. Wagner diagnoses the things I have struggled with the most with mailine denominations in general, and the various permutations of the Lutheran tradition in particular. It's a 1999 book, but it's very, very relevant today.

Second, a voice from the recent past has brought me great comfort this week. I finally got to listen to a presentation by Richard Webb at Atonement Lutheran Church's Power in the Spirit prayer conference back in October. His words are going to take some time to digest as well, but I'm sure they will provide fodder for a number of entries here.

Lastly, I've found that God is still speaking through a couple of new sponsees in the recovering community. I find, once again, that the more I give away, the more I get. I once likened sponsorship to a jug of chocolate milk: if I keep it to myself - leave it in the refrigerator - it will slowly go sour, and become an awful, stinking mess. But if I pour it out, and share it. it stays sweet - and by some God-appointed blessing, the more I pour out, the more appears in my jug. I've found this is true in recovery, in ministry, even in my daily work: when I give of my self in a selfless way, the world just looks better. No matter how much of a schmuck I've been in the past, I can be a useful member of some community today.

Thank you, God, for the gift of this day. Help me to use it to do your will, today and always!

God, I offer myself to You this day, to build with me and do with me as You will. Relieve me of the bondage of self, that I might better do Your will. Take away my difficulties, that victory over them may bear witness to those I would help of Your power, Your love, and Your way of life. Amen.
(the AA 3rd step prayer)

So what does it TAKE?...

According to this article (and several others) Donald Rumsfeld was getting grilled by US soldiers - especially reservists - about having improper armoring on vehicles used in combat. And Mr. Rumsfeld had the audacity to say, "As you know, you go to war with the army you have, not the army you might want or wish to have at a later time."

Excuse me, Mr. Rumsfeld - but the ongoing US military budget is $400 BILLION - six and a half times the next largest government - exclusive of costs for Iraq and counter-terrorism. (Don't believe me? Check it out here.) How is it possible that after all these years of pouring money into the military, somehow we still don't have "the army you might want to go to war with"??

Mr. Rumsfeld, I have a sneaking suspicion that if it was your son, daughter, or grand-child whose life was on the line out there - or if one of the potential casualties was named Bush or Cheney - there'd be a whole lot more armor rolling around Iraq than there is. You may not think much of the men and women who are fighting Dubya's war for you - but those are our sisters, our brothers, our fathers and mothers, our church members... our beloved family and friends. It's bad enough that this administration has put them in harm's way - but sending them to war badly equipped is sending them to a senseless death. This stupidity is more irresponsible than anything any Democrat - even the former President from Arkansas - ever did. Your administration may claim to be concerned about "morals" - but there is nothing "moral" about this, whatsoever.

Don't mess with the safety of our loved ones. Find the money, find a way, and do it.

We're gettin' mad as hell, Mr. Rumsfeld. Be forewarned. Tell your boss.

"...the ones who call the shots won't be among the dead and lame..."
- John McCutcheon, Christmas in the Trenches

What a gift THAT would be...

O come, Desire of nations, bind
In one the hearts of all mankind;
Bid Thou our sad divisions cease,
And be Thyself our King of Peace.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.
(Thomas Helmore, "O Come, O Come Emmanuel," verse 4)
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"My prayer is not for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you." (John 17:20-21, NIV)
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"Bid Thou our sad divisions cease." Now there's a Christmas gift worth asking for.

Parents not speaking to children; siblings not speaking to each other. Friends avoiding each other at social gatherings. Nuclear-armed nations staring in hate across boundaries at each other. Women and men of every race trapped in distrust and fear of each other. Nonsense about blue and red states, when in reality every state is simply varying shades of purple - blue and red mixed together, side by side.

Jesus prayed "that all of them may be one." That's us...and that's the prayer of the Son of God for each of us - but beyond just the church, to both believer and unbeliever. That Christ's whole body - not just the believers - might be one. In this time of Advent preparation, I need to ask myself today: what can I do - in my home, my extended family, my circle of friends, my work environment...yes, and in my church...wherever I am, to repair the divisions that fear, doubt, and sin have created. Those acts of healing and unity-building, perhaps more than anything, will help assure the inbreaking of the Kingdom of God.

Lord Jesus, you prayed that all of us might be one in you. Help me see, today, where I can make that prayer a reality. Amen.

Read it and weep

Still think the war in Iraq is a good idea? Read this article from the Arizona Republic...and ask yourself the question again.

It made me weep. What a tragic waste.

And here we go again...

In this AP article today, the Pacifica Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) has punished an urban ministry that aids the poor and homeless in a dispute over an associate pastor who is in a lesbian relationship. The article says "the decision by the Pacifica Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, which oversees congregations in parts of Southern California, marks the most severe punishment of a Lutheran congregation over the issue of homosexual clergy" since the last two congregations were tossed out in 1990.

There is no mention of this on the ELCA's main website. But on their "news" page, dated two days ago, there is this statement in support of the UCC, who tried unsuccessfully to get a promotional ad aired on CBS and NBC. The ELCA's article says that "The ad, part of the UCC's new identity campaign that began airing nationwide Dec. 1, stated that -- as Jesus did -- the United Church of Christ (UCC) seeks to welcome all people, regardless of ability, age, race, economic circumstance or sexual orientation." The ELCA communications director is joining other denominations' officials in supporting the UCC's efforts to get their ad run with CBS and NBC.

Now isn't that interesting?

The ELCA is more than willing to go to bat with the UCC, supporting their right to air an advertisement saying that they can welcome folks regardless of sexual orientation. But the very same denomination won't let our own people actually minister to the poor if they are in a relationship in that same orientation. And we'll punish the poor people that were being served by this renegade ministry... just to show that you can't play in our sand-box if you have a same-sex partner, no matter how much good you are doing for people.

Sound a little schizophrenic to you? Me too.

Want to see the UCC ad that sparked the conflict? Check it out here. I just wish our denomination could air an ad like that...but it would be false advertising... ::sigh::

"The poor you will always have with you..."

I was reading Naomi's blog, and her post about the budget deficit and cuts proposed in Minnesota. She quotes their governor as saying "...there is a spending problem in this state in the area of human services," to which she definitely (and appropriately) took exception. In response to her posting, a person commented, "Jesus said the poor would always be with us. We can't spend or minimum-wage them out of poverty."

That really irked me.

I agree that Jesus did say, "The poor you will always have with you." It is important, however, to note that those words were spoken in the context of a poor woman pouring precious nard on the feet of Jesus. The objection was, "Why waste that stuff on Jesus? We could be feeding the poor!" Jesus points out that worship and reverence to the Son of God (not to mention physically ministering to the 'Son of Man') ought to be first, and everything else should follow that. The entire quite says, "The poor you will always have with you, but you will not always have me" (Matthew 26:11)

For me, the real danger is that we hear "The poor you will always have with you..." and we allow the unspoken tagline to be "...so screw 'em - we can't fix 'em all, anyway." However, if you look at the record of Christ's work while here on earth, it shows that he spent much, much more time healing, feeding, and restoring "the least of these" than he did anything else. Sure, Jesus didn't heal them all, or feed them all - but that's no reason not to make efforts to try a priority.

I have always understood that a primary function of democratic government is to provide for those that cannot help themselves. That's why it always blows my mind that we as a culture (at every level of government) seem to ensure that the strong-healthy-wealthy one is taken care of, and the weak-and-struggling 99 are often left to fend for themselves amidst the dregs and the cast-offs from "polite society."

I live in Chicago. I still find it amazing that infrastructure for wealthy neighborhoods continues to get first priority under the reigns of The Son of Daley and Herod of Blagojevich, while funding for the Chicago Transit Authority - the primary transit option for "the least of these" (including me) - is in serious danger of being drastically slashed. Trust me - the folks up on the Gold Coast and out in Naperville aren't standing out in the cold to find gas for their Lexuses (Lexi?) or Hummers...but I know what it is to stand in the cold waiting for a bus, because I can't afford car insurance as a member of the working poor.

I've said it before (here), and I'll say it again - I will never understand why so much of the Christian world considers homosexuality to be "incompatible with Christian teaching," and yet blithely ignores the *demands* of Matthew 25:31-46 as some sort of "we'll get to it someday" suggestion. A careful reading of that text would put most of the all-too-holy evangelical Christian church in the "goat" category. And the text is all too clear about what the goats get...

Prepare ye the way...

The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the LORD, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.(Isaiah 40:3, King James version)
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We speak of Advent as a time of preparation, and yet so often the days before Christmas are crammed with activity - both at the mall and at church. For so many years, I became "a human doing" instead of "a human being" - a ball of activity that seemed to collapse on itself about 12:30 AM Christmas day, after the 11 pm Christmas eve service. Generally, that's not a good way to go.

A dear friend of mine has a better plan, it seems. She's taking a birthday gift and some unused vacation to take a personal retreat out to the Hollis Renewal Center for a retreat...food, drink, a Bible, and several days of silence and peace, just to reconnect with God. As I'm getting ready to head off into the mazes of the Chicago Transit Authority this morning, I kind of envy her....

This passage from Isaiah has always sounded most "right" in the King James, if only because that's how I learned it in Handel's Messiah, too. But I hear that voice, crying out in the semi-arid desert of my own spiritual life, saying, "Hey! How about getting out the spiritual bulldozer, and clear out anything that's standing on the road between you and your God? Make the path between you and your Creator - between you and the One who sends you salvation in Jesus - a super-highway, clear and unobstructed!"

Now, I can't take several days off to live in silence...but I can start to ask, "Where is my devotional life, today? How is my prayer connection? What am I doing to prepare my soul as much as I prepare my Christmas cards and decorations for 'the season'?" Even when it comes to the daily devotions I receive on email - do I read 'em and say, "Yeah, that's nice," and go on with my day - or do I really reflect on them, and take them to heart?

Yeah...it *can* start just as simply as that.

Lord God, help me clear away the brush and the overgrowth and the trash that may have accumulated on the highway between you and me. Help me make that path straight and direct, that I might know you more and rejoice in the coming of your Son. Amen.

Does anybody REALLY know what day it is?...

As of 10 AM CT today, the Chicago Sun-Times e-version was trumpeting news about a potential rock concert at Wrigley, and a reduction in murders (always good news in Chicago). The Chicago Tribune reported how choked-up Mayor Daley is that his son Patrick is enlisting in the military, and more good news about "the concert" (with performer(s) to be named later). The New York Times told of the departure of "Homeland Security" chief Tom Ridge, and more details behind the Hmong hunter shootings. Christianity Today had a big splash review of "Myths America Lives By," and a big promo for the Faith & Money Channel. The home page of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA)- my own denomination - featured an article about women in the early church, and ecumenicism.

It's World AIDS Day - and the world seems largely silent - most of all, seemingly, in the Christian community. The One who came to topple the powerful and to serve and heal and save the powerless might be astonished at the silence (much less the condemnation) in our ranks. The average life-span in Africa has dropped below 40 years - and yet we don't talk about that; we talk about how we need to reach the world for Jesus.

It's true; we do - I don't argue with that. But while Jesus spent a lot of time teaching, he spent an even larger amount of time meeting the needs of those around him - feeding four or five thousand at a time, healing the impossibly-sick, transforming lives. Given the catastrophic losses of life, in this case I'd sure like to be teaching less, and doing more. How high must the butcher's bill go, before we decide this stuff is important?

And why, pray tell, do so many Christians find it worthwhile to give money to prevent diabetes, a slow-moving, largely preventable disease - while so often ignoring the black plague right under our noses, because of a perception that somehow homosexuality is a greater sin (more deserving of a death sentence, anyway) than gluttony? (And, lest anyone think I'm picking on one group at the expense of another... as a diabetic myself, I truly can ask that question...)

"They also will answer, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?' "He will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.' " (Matthew 25:44-45, NIV)

Continuing the giving of thanks

God, we give you thanks for the bread and the meat, for the shelter of house and the warmth of clothing, for daily work and thoughtful friends, and reasonable margins of security and comfort. Yet others of your children starve, homeless and hopeless, with no sign of human caring, fearing tomorrow more than death. If we do nothing for them, then leave us without your blessing until we learn the ways of mercy. Deliver us from the gross sin of indifference, and make our blessings holy and special to us precisely to the degree that we share them. Amen.
(adapted from Samuel H. Miller, Prayers for Daily Use (New York: Harper & Bros, 1957), p.120)

(Who's this Samuel Miller guy? Learn more here.)

"Over my shoulder, a backward glance..."

As I start writing this, it is late Thanksgiving eve in Chicago...a snowy, blustery night. My apartment-mate is in the western suburbs with his family for an early turkey-day, since he is stuck working on Thanksgiving Day, so the apartment is empty. The folks at the Garfield Park Conservatory, where I'm doing some temp work, said that we could go home at 2 p.m. - but if I didn't stay there, I wouldn't get paid. (And trust me - I really need to get paid.) So I was the last one out of the building, and took the El (the Green Line) back to Hyde Park about 6 p.m. in the blustery, slushy & snowy slop.

I should be packing to leave for Toledo tomorrow morning. I'm riding with my former schoolmate Barb, whose family is also in Toledo - but the weather prompted us to stay overnight, and leave in the morning. Instead, I took the time to fix myself a pretty decent dinner - a tolerable attempt at "pad thai with shrimp" - and catch up on a bunch of my friends' blogs. It has not been a particularly productive evening, but it's been a good one.

It's one of Paul Harvey's favorite lines...."Over my shoulder, a backward glance..." Those six words signal reflection, introspection, and most of all, a discernment of what is a source of gratitude in life. I've always loved it...and it fits, today.

Am I grateful for this last year? That's a tough call, in a way. I have walked through some long, dark days, and over the last half-year I have felt much more like living in the incinerator than in "the refiners' fire." I have to admit that in the last seven months, I have experienced some of the darkest depression I've encountered in sobriety. I have wept more, and had more Book-of-Job-like run-ins with my Creator, than I would ever have chosen to have in one 12-month period. Can I really be grateful for that?

In fact, if anyone would have told me when I left my job in Kansas City in August 2003 that fifteen months later (and a scant few months from my 48th birthday) I would be on the outside of the seminary community, without permanent employment, without health insurance, without even car insurance, and down to my last few sheckels, trust me...I never would have left. Had I seen what was coming, I would surely have said to God, "We evidently have had a hideous misunderstanding about what 'following God's call' means." So yeah - this has not been the year I would have hoped for, back a year ago.

But despite all that, I am truly grateful for my life - beyond any measure I could share with you.

The four or five times I "hit bottom" in this year (financially, emotionally, and spiritually), there were people who were there to give me a "hand up" (not just a hand-out) when I needed it most. I have found friends who have been willing to pray for me when I have been absolutely unwilling to pray. And I have found amazing insights into my life, and my sometimes wobbly relationship with my God, as a result of it all. It's hard not to be grateful for all that, no matter what it took to get here.

I'm grateful to God, the community of faith and the community of recovery for getting me through the storms of my life, one day at a time. There have been many, many times when "giving up" sounded like the absolute next right thing to do (because I'm a wimp, at heart)...but each time I've come close to the precipice, real live people have acted as God's hands and feet to ensure that I might certainly get "down," but never completely "out."

I'm thankful to my brothers and sisters here at LSTC - first, for the bulk of my classmates who (on the rare occasions that we interact, now that I'm not in school) are still uniformly glad to see me whenever we cross paths. But I'm really grateful for my apartment-mate Tim, and for Laila, Lisa, Barb, Mike and Michelle, who have worked hard to help me stay connected. Along with a few blessed professors who have been willing to listen and encourage, these people continue to let me know that even though I am "walking apart from" the community, I am still "a part of" their lives. That means more than they will ever know.

I give thanks for the sisters and brothers who have supported me financially when I couldn't help myself...Jerry & Bev, the Lentz family (all of you, but especially Nathan), Barry H., the Tea Tin crowd, and a whole bunch of folks whose small but timely gifts kept me from complete and abject failure as a going concern. I owe you all more than just money...I owe you life itself, because that's what you gave me. I'm still a long way from out of the woods - but I never could have made it this far without you. Thank you.

My companions in faith and recovery have meant the difference between spiritual life and death over the last year. Sandy M., Natalie, Mike M., Eric, Norma, Barry, Cherri J., Ben B., Momma Delphine, Larry K., Tim B., Tom S. and Michael D. - as well as Pastor Joe, Pastor John, and my late mentor and surrogate dad, Pastor Tom Housholder - have been encouragers, prayer partners, and recovery partners (both here and in KC). I am so very grateful for the gift of love and friendship you have shared with me. Whatever fractional share of sanity I have today is (in large part) because of you. You have carried me spiritually far more than I have walked - and I give thanks to God for each of you.

One of the great gifts I have received in sobriety is the restoration of my relationship with my sisters, Sue and Sandy. Being closer to Toledo has meant seeing them more in the last year than I have in the prior four or five. And given how long I went (before I got sober) without really expressing to them what they meant to me, I am so incredibly blessed to have them (and their families) in my life.

I'd be incredibly remiss if I didn't mention the online blogging community, who have accepted me, encouraged me, and uplifted me with their faith, their insights, and the power of their stories. To Renee', Rick, Drew, Bobbie, Mommy T., Levi, Poor Mad Peter, Chris (Radio Reb), and so many others - thank you for your incredible honesty, and for sharing your stories, your insights and experiences, and your faith with me. Though we may never meet face-to-face, you are daily proof of what my first AA sponsor told me before I left my hometown for Kansas City: "If you are walking hand-in-hand with God, and I am walking hand-in-hand with God, then you and I are walking together, no matter how many miles lie between us."

All these people - and so many more that I cannot name - form "the cloud of witnesses" that continues to lift me up, to bless me, and to encourage me on my way. How could I not weep with gratitude for those kind of gifts in my life?

I've said it before, but it bears repeating: if (by some accident, medical trauma, or tragedy) this is my last day on earth, I can truly say this: It has been a good day; it has been a good life. I woke up sober, was of service to my sisters and brothers, brought some smiles, shared some joy, and was able both to love and be loved by more people than I can count. Regardless of my material standing in life, that puts me 100% "in the bonus round" of life. I know that my Redeemer lives, and I know I am redeemed; I know the love of God and of my fellow human beings.

That makes me rich beyond all the measure of this world.

I'll be "off the air" for a few days while I'm in Ohio. But you all will be in my heart, wherever you are, and wherever I am.

Happy Thanksgiving.

An argument for the record books

Is an individual's constitutional right to bear arms superceded by an oil-refinery's right not to risk a cataclysmic explosion?

That is just one of the questions being posed in this AP article discussing a newly passed Oklahoma law that permits employees to keep guns in their locked cars on company property. ConocoPhillips (who has offices and a refinery in Oklahoma) is joining Williams Energy in suing to keep the law from being enacted.

The arguments made in this article by the pro-gun folks are the kinds of things that encourage otherwise level-headed citizens to label gun-lobby folks with some pretty unpleasant names. Let's face it - if Chicago Transit Authority employees on the south side of Chicago (parts of which really are "the baddest part of town") don't get to bring guns with them to the Green Line's park-&-ride, how can anyone possibly justify it in rural Oklahoma? I really have to wonder, somedays...

Back from a sabbatical....

...at least this one wasn't like the last one, which started off as a brief break...but somehow turned into six months away from the keyboard. Just working a lot, and not entirely firing on all cylinders, mentally or physically. But I seem to have turned the corner - or at least turned a corner...

Thanks to a few of my brother and sister bloggers, who actually cared enough to ask, "Have you fallen, and can't get up?" Happily, the answer is "No, thank God."

Giving thanks for one brave Republican

I may as well confess this up front: for years, I have been an ardent foe of nuclear-weapons development. There is enough literature...popular and scholarly...to support my postition, so I won't belabor the reasons why, I think. But the "children of God" in the Pentagon and the current administration have continued to support the development of tactical nuclear weapons, in clear defiance of our own nuclear non-proliferation treaties.

So imagine my surprise to read this article in the Washington Post, reporting that it was a Republican, Rep. David L. Hobson of Ohio, who led the successful effort to keep the tactical-nuke programs out of the omnibus appropriations bill adopted Saturday. Hobson, in one of the wisest quotes from any Republican that I've read, said that he had been against developing smaller-yield tactical nuclear weapons precisely because someone might think it would actually be possible to use them safely in battle, without consequence or fear of escalation. (Anyone who believes this line of crap should read Greg Bear's classic Eon, which has the most devastatingly accurate projection of what would happen under those circumstances.)

My major objection to tactical nuclear weapons can be illustrated by this fairly gross image. Most people I know would object strongly to my urinating in a toilet, flushing it twice, and then offering them a drink from that (or any other) toilet...because of the relatively tiny risk of mild biological contamination. But even "small" tactical nuclear weapons will toss immense amounts of radioactive fallout into the atmosphere - and the radioactive half-life of plutonium-239 (the major component of a nuclear weapon) is just a hair over 24,000 years. Now, you might actually believe that if I dropped a "bunker-buster" mini-nuke on a fortified bunker in Iraq, that most of the fallout might be limited in scope, and only a small amount would drift across the world to our side of the globe. But using the same toilet analogy, how much deadly-radioactive plutonium in your breathing air is acceptable?

The other terrifying thought is that there are people in the world who really believe that if I use a "mini-nuke" against an enemy, that my enemy won't respond with a "small nuke," against which I'd have to retaliate with a "medium nuke," and so on, until pretty soon the whole earth is on fire. In fact, the very notion of a "controllable nuclear exchange" is the very worst kind of fiction.

Of course, we won't even talk about what half a billion dollars would do if it went into services and programs for "the least of these," instead of senseless weapons development...

So I give thanks to God for Rep. David L. Hobson of Ohio, and I'd urge you to do the same. He's gonna have a particularly hard row to hoe, after messin' in the current administration's Post Toasties. But thank God there are still some people who will vote their conscience, and not their party line.

A drizzly-morning prayer, and reflection

Day after day we pray to you, God, knowing that our words are often poor and wingless, and stumble from our hearts like strangers. Yet we continue to wait for the time when even our anguish and silence will be touched by your healing glory, and we will be one with You in peace and joy. Give us patience in these heavy- burdened days, Lord. Strengthen us to labor at Your gates mighty God, this day and every day, until those gates stand open wide and visible to all, so that every one of us can enter into communion with Your spirit. Amen.
(Samuel H. Miller, "Prayers for Daily Use," page 30)

(Who's this Samuel Miller guy? Learn more here.)

It's a rainy Friday morning in Chicago. As much as I need to, I really don't want to go out in the rain, or stand in the weather waiting for the bus or the El. I'd love for my prayers to soar like eagles, or like the Concorde...high and strong and beautiful. As a wise man once said, "Some of my prayers are Concordes and some are crop-dusters" - and the scale, I'm afraid, is weighted heavily to one side. But I know that both kinds of prayer are welcome in God's sky, regardless how attractive or airworthy they might seem at the time.

My faith may seem to waver and contract with the change in the season - but through the water and the rain of this day,I have have to trust that God is hearing what I'd like to say, and hearing "the part that really matters" in everything I say or do. My heart may be heavy, but God's burdens are light. Which one will I choose? Only by God's help can I choose and live a life that would honor my Creator!

Good Thursday moanin'

Nothing deep here today - no great "ah-ha" moments...just a case of (happily) untreated life.

Stuff I didn't know - Starting last Monday, I am spending time at the Garfield Park Conservatory - a beautiful place with some wonderful folks working to keep it beautiful. The Chicago Park District owns and maintains the building, all the plantings and the grounds, and the GPC Alliance is the organization which puts on the programs - tours, education events, you name it.

Well, in talking with one of the staff yesterday, I heard her get all excited about something. It seems she was arranging for give-aways for a volunteer appreciation event, and she was quite delighted to find that they were going to be able to "give everyone who attended their very own bag of worm castings!" And she looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to share in her joy.

"OK, I give up," I said, giving her my best "Yeah, I am a doofus" look. "What are worm castings, and why should anyone be excited about getting some?"

I had to ask, eh? Turns out worm castings are, in essence, worm poop -" that which is cast-off" from happy, well-fed worms. (Perhaps baby castings or dog castings would be better language for those by-products, as well.) At any rate, I found this web-page which describes just what a gift this, er, casting is. Turns out the Conservatory has several huge worm beds just exactly for this purpose. Wow.

Stuff I'm glad I experienced - On a much more pleasantly-fragrant note, the folks are setting up for their Holiday Flower Show, which opens the day after Thanksgiving. The GPC folks have moved half-a-dozen miniature orange trees into Horticulture Hall, and each one of them is in bloom. The beauty and delicacy of orange blossoms is a rare thing - incredibly aromatic, and proof once again that, no matter how much some folks might want it otherwise, Nature is still the best advertisement for the handiwork of God in creation. And my encounter is just a small taste of what's in store for encountering God's handiwork at Garfield Park. If you're in the Chicago area, admission is free - and worth it.

Stuff that makes me wonder "where is God in all this?" - while celebrating the endorsement of several very wonderful people I went to school with (the next step on the approval process for ordination), I heard of several folks who I would have said should have gotten endorsed, as well...who weren't. Several of them were postponed (rather than rejected, which would have been the end of the road for them) - and while it's just "not yet," instead of "go away," I certainly can sympathize with them. Because I also learned of several folks who (if I were king of the forest) would never, ever get into ministry...who just sailed through the process. It really makes one wonder.

Stuff I need to write about later on - I've been following a number of bloggers who have been questing deeper into their faith, and finding new and different answers. Some of them have changed the labels and denominations that they feel called toward - and have tickled my own thoughts about faith-formation. Three different bloggers I "know" have talked about suicide - past attempts, current thoughts, and the way that this ultimate escape tempts us (even in, and sometimes especially in - the church. And I've been thinking and reading about what "the ragamuffin church" might look like - and where it's actually happening (as well as my own experiences where it is not).

That's it for now, kids. Gotta go!

Looking for "my place in this world"

If there are millions down on their knees,
Among the many, can You still hear me?...
Hear me asking, "Where do I belong?"
Is there a vision that I can call my own?
Show me...I'm
Looking for a reason, roamin' through the night to find
My place in this world - my place in this world
Not a lot to lean on, I need Your light to help me find
My place in this world...
(Michael W. Smith, "Place In This World," from the
1990 CD Go West, Young Man

A month ago, one of Renee/iphy's posts talked about being "in a season of waiting...in that space in-between the death and resurrection." I remember being moved to tears as I read her words, although (for better or worse) that's nothing new. (If I keep on reading Renee's stuff, I'm gonna have to purchase Puffs by the pallet-load!).

Like that old Roberta Flack tune, she was "singin' my life with [her] words." I really identified with this image: "my only prayer is that somehow there is a presence in my emptiness. that somehow there is a holiness in my moments of breathing, of cupped-open hands, in this long waiting i find myself living in." As I've found with all Renee's writing, the stuff this posting helped me dredge up was not comfortable...but was dead-on, nonetheless. (Thank you again, my sister - I think...)

It happened again tonight.

At an AA meeting on the north side of Chicago, God spoke through a man celebrating 30 years of sobriety, when he said, "Now that I'm retired, I am trying to figure out who I am outside of being just a-guy-with-a-career." As he said that, I had one of those "cosmic V-8 moments," and I finally came to understand at least a part of why I've been "stuck" where I am...

In leaving Kansas City, I not only left my job and my address, I left my identity (as a friend among friends, a committed member of powerful communities of faith and recovery, and as a worker among workers) in order to pursue seminary and ordained ministry. In effect, I swapped one identity for another.

Now that it's clear that I won't be able to do the ordained ministry path (at least not for a long while, anyway), the question is: so who is Steve, now, apart from the telecom/church/recovery guy, and apart from ordained ministry? So far, the terrifying answer (the answer I really would rather choke on my own vomit than admit) is this: "For the most part, I don't know."

I hate that.

There is, however, light among the clouds. I may be seeing dimly, but I am not entirely in the "can't-buy-a-clue" column. I know that I know and love Jesus, in a clear and powerful way... even when I struggle to pray, let alone meditate (especially about this topic). I know that by God's grace, I am a sober person in recovery - even when going through these changes, and these doubts, has made a drink sound like a real good idea at times. I know that no matter what denomination or setting I end up in, I will always be Lutheran enough to understand the balance of faith and works as my brother and pastor Joe Crowther put it: "What are you called to do, now that you don't have to do anything?"

And I also know that God has given me these gifts, and these bits of knowledge, for a reason. I'm a pretty darned good actor, but I really couldn't manage to fool all of you, for all this time. So there's got to be something about all this that is beyond just "what I feel." The testimony of the saints vastly over-trumps that one small group of church folk who told me that I have no gifts for ministry, just because I'm deeply in debt.

So what next?

For way too many years, my friend Eric Amundson has been telling me that he didn't see my path in congregational ministry - and that writing was going to be a part of whatever I ended up doing. I'm finally coming to agree with him - both from his own encouraging, that of a number of my friends both in Kansas City and at LSTC, and from the support of a number of new friends in the blogosphere (Rick, Drew, and others) - all of whom have continued to both open my mind and kick my nether-regions when I've needed it. I wanted you to know that I have heard you all.

I'm just grateful to God for each of you - for your prayers, for your encouragement and feedback...and for your putting up with my whining and questioning ad nauseum. (Well, all of you except for my brother Mike Moore - who keeps reminding me that the best place to find "sympathy" is between "sewage" and "syphillis" in the dictionary. Ditto for Eric's dad Jerry, who would second that notion...)

But, to be rigorously honest, I also hope I get some kind of clue about which way to go before I end up I completely broke. (Which ain't too far away, right now. I'm not there yet...but I can see it from here...) "I owe, I owe, so off to work I go..."

Which wolf am I feeding?

An elder Cherokee Native American was teaching his grandchildren about life. He said to them, "A fight is going on inside me...It is a terrible fight, and it is between two wolves. One wolf represents fear, anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, pride and superiority. The other wolf stands for joy, peace, love, hope, sharing, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, friendship, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. This same fight is going on inside of you and every other person too."

They thought about it for a minute and then one child asked his grandfather, "Which wolf will win?"

The old Cherokee simply replied..."The one I feed."

I first heard this story from a Cherokee storyteller at the National Storytelling Festival, nearly 20 years ago. (An aside: My sister says you can tell you're "getting old" when you start measuring time in decades. Grrr...)

God's infinite sense of humor comes into play because a friend from Ohio sent me this story via email tonight, as I've been pondering why I find blogging such an important part of my life, right now. As with the two wolves, there are two major motivations for doing this.

The first is more selfless - and is really an extension of AA's 12th step:

Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.

Most of what I share here is my own encounters - with God, with the communities of recovery and faith, and with the incredible messy journey that is daily living. So some of what I share is closer to the sacred, and some of it is much closer to the profane...but I can't help think of all of it as "holy." Because in the end, I'm sharing my experience, strength and hope about my encounters with God's world and God's kids, in all the messy-ness and order, all the ugliness and beauty that is "life." Several of you have responded to me, saying that you found inspiration (or, at the very least, you have identified with thoughts and feelings that we've had in common) - which has been the answer to many a prayer of mine.

The other part of my blogging personality, however, is completely self-centered, self-seeking, and self-absorbed, and is vastly more interested than being heard than in hearing. It's the part that secretly hopes that you'll just be bowled away by what you read here... the part that checks my own SiteMeter details to see just who is reading me more often than I'd like to admit. In a sad way, it is a part of me that never grew up, and is still the kid who was standing at the side of the gym at junior high dances, waiting to be noticed...the high-school and college guy who would do almost anything to be "a part of" rather than "apart from." I understand that part of me; I just don't like it very much.

It is precisely this person who was much annoyed over the weekend, when a blog-reader emailed, and said what a wonderful job I was doing...and then wrote back a minute and said, in effect, "Oops...I really thought you were somebody else." :-|

Which part will win? "The part that I feed," I guess. And there are days that I'm not sure which side I'm on...both wolves can look very much like each other, at times. Only God will know for sure - so I'm going to trust an old truth that Tom Housholder once told me about the source of my inspiration: "If it's good, it's God...and if it's slop, it's probably Steve."

Love is patient, love is kind...

Just in case anyone has forgotten, shall we turn our virtual pew bibles to Matthew 22:36-40(NIV)?

"Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?" Jesus replied: " 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.'This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."

Just wanted to make sure we understand what this Jesus guy thinks of how we're supposed to treat our relationships with God and each other. Now, let's hear a portion of a letter to our re-crowned President from a brother in Christ, quoted in the NY Times today (Sunday) by Maureen Dowd:

Bob Jones III, president of the fundamentalist college of the same name, has written a letter to the president telling him that "Christ has allowed you to be his servant" so he could "leave an imprint for righteousness," by appointing conservative judges and approving legislation "defined by biblical norm."

"In your re-election, God has graciously granted America - though she doesn't deserve it - a reprieve from the agenda of paganism," Mr. Jones wrote. "Put your agenda on the front burner and let it boil. You owe the liberals nothing. They despise you because they despise your Christ."

As Ms. Dowd, wrote, "Way harsh." Excuse me while I put in my order for the T-shirt that says, "Yes, I'm a Christian....just not one of them."

The shepherds are senseless and do not inquire of the LORD ;
so they do not prosper and all their flock is scattered.
(Jeremiah 10:21, NIV)

Reflecting on being a ragamuffin

I was going to post this over on my friend Drew's blog, but I guess I wanted to put it here instead...because it speaks to where I am, as well as (hopefully) speaking to him.

I believe one of the reason so many people identify with Brennan Manning (the author of The Ragamuffin Gospel and Abba's Child, among others) is that he is willing to name the monsters within. He picks up "the stranger" that I'd really rather not let anyone else see, and parades him around naked on the front porch. And in so doing, he lets me know that I'm not alone. I'm just like him. (And, if you identify with him, just like you, too.)

One of the things that I appreciate about ragamuffins is that when they name their ugliness amongst themselves, it seems to help defuse the self-hatred and shame that goes with it. It's as if Manning says to me, "Hey, you ever feel like this? Then welcome, buddy - sounds like you're one of us. Or we're one of you. Or something." It makes it harder for me to believe that I'm isolated and unique, even as I'm ashamed of how I feel, or how I fail, or how I react. (Folks in recovery frequently say, "You're terminally unique... just like everybody else.")

This may sound funny, but I'd aspire to be as internally monstrous as Brennan Manning is, was, or ever has been. Because, in the end, God's grace was (and is) sufficient for him...so it would be "enough" for me, too.

I have to be reminded - often, and loudly - that John 3:16 does NOT say, "God so loved the world that He threw open the gates of heaven, and stood at the gateway, tapping His foot, waiting for us mortals to make an agonizing climb up the rope ladder He threw down to us." At a conference once, I heard a speaker say, "Imagine Jesus up there, on the very top row of the stadium, and you're way down here on the floor. Does he call to you and say, 'Come on up'? Or does Jesus say, 'Wait there - I want to be with you so much that I'm coming down to GET you!'"

Trust me - in April of this year, when I heard from my candidacy committee that I should, in essence, "Don't go away mad - just go away," it sure felt like failure. It felt like the church - the assembled Body of Christ - had said, in essence, "Screw you! We don't *want* you, and we don't NEED you." Even now, after 6 months of futzing around, it still feels like that, a little bit. And it's even worse because, financially, I had just one shot at this. I spent nearly 5 years of accumulated capital so that I could move to Chicago, and devote myself to full-time study for ministry. Nine months later, I was essentially told that I never should have come here, because the financial sins in my past negated any gifts I had for ministry. (And yes, they were that direct.)

That can make you feel like a failure, let me tell you...

I have had to be reminded (repeatedly) of a line from a Caedmon's Call's song, "Table for Two" - "...You knew how You'd save me before I fell dead in the garden/And You knew this day long before You made me out of dirt." If I didn't believe that God's will was in the middle of this somewhere, I would have chalked-it-up a long time ago.

One of my anchor verses - the Scripture to which I tie-down in stormy times - says "While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." Hear those 9 words, a little more clearly: while I was, and still continue to be, a monumental, selfish, self-seeking screwup - "Christ died for us." Not just for them - those fictional people who I keep believing have their spiritual, mental, and emotional poop all in a group. For "us"...you, and me.

Do I think that the coldness of the few prayers I want to pray pleases God? Heck, no!
Do I think that God wants - desires - more from me? Absolutely.
Do I think that God looks at my own self-destructive behaviors and obsessions and addictions, and says, "Awww...isn't that cute?" Nope.

But do I think that I can somehow fail the One who spoke the story of the prodigal son? Is there really some obscure footnote in my Bible (or yours) that says, "This passage is appropriate and greatly helpful for most people, but it really doesn't apply to poor, hopeless, helpless, sinful and backsliding sons-o-guns like Steve"?

No way. (Trust me...I've looked. Carefully. Repeatedly.)

To steal a great truth from Max Lucado's Six Hours One Friday: The grace, and love, and forgiveness of Jesus Christ are present in the outstreched arms of Jesus, mirroring the welcoming arms of the prodigal father. Those arms opened wide for all of humanity, for all time - including for you and me.

And to make sure those arms would never, ever close...

...he had them nailed that way.

"Let your light shine before others" - The National Donor Sabbath

On Thursday, I had the blessing to be able to meet with Mike Henderson, the education director of Gift of Hope, the main organ/tissue donor network in Illinois. I've talked about how important I think this is in the past, so I won't bore you (you can check out my earlier post here.) But here's why I keep harping on this - and why I think this is a big deal:

I believe that organ and tissue donation is the ultimate expression of charity and love for one's neighbor. It is as Biblical a practice as you can find - and it is also a place where the actions of a faith community can become really, really relevant to the unchurched world. When we encourage donation of organs and tissues, those donations help "our neighbors" - all of them. Christian or Muslim, churched or unchurched, regardless of color, creed, sexual orientation, economic standing - none of that matters, in this case. Organ and tissue donation becomes the one truly selfless act of charity and love that we can take.

Here is some critical information, that should be known especially by people of faith everywhere:

Only 5% (one out of 20!) of all registered organ & tissue donors will likely be able to donate organs. It's a complicated issue - but basically, if a potential donor dies a "cardiac" death (e.g., heart attack, most disease processes, old age) the organs do not stay viable enough for transplant. Tissues are still OK (eyes, skin, blood vessels), but not organs (heart, kindey, lungs, liver, etc). Only the 5% (or so) of people who die "brain death" - stroke, aneurysm, some type of trauma that causes brain death, but where a person's organs can be sustained on a ventilator - can actually donate those organs. So it's critical that everybody who possibly can sign up as an organ-donor actually does sign up - just to make that 5% as big as possible!

Family support is critical! Nationwide, only about 50% of the people who actually signed their drivers' licenses, or universal-donor cards, ever get to donate - because no matter what, the donor's family has the last word on whether donation happens or not!! You can be "on the table," with a signed and witnessed organ-donor card, but if the family says "no," that's it. Period. That's why it's so important that you get your family members to be the "witnesses" on a driver's license or an organ-donor card, and why you need to tell them what you want, and how important it is to you.

Almost every major faith tradition supports organ and tissue donation. This is what I spent most of my time talking with Mike Henderson about - the fact that churches (and especially seminaries!) need to educate potential chaplains, pastors, teachers, Stephen Ministers, and anyone-who-will-listen about their faith traditions' stand on organ and tissue donation. You can go here to the Gift of Hope clergy resources, and see how various religious traditions view organ and tissue donations, as well as "10 ways you can help."

Mike pointed out an important concept to me... one that it seems almost no one understands. Deciding about organ and tissue donation - the gift of life and hope to those who live on after we die - is as much a part of "end of life decisions" as funeral planning, buying insurance, or a living will. The time to decide about being an organ/tissue donor is not when you, or your spouse, child, parent or friend is lying in ICU on a ventilator! Many times, baseless fears about preserving the physical completeness of one's body (sometimes, based on fears about jeopardizing "the resurrection of the body") prevents people of faith from donating organs and tissues.

The second Sunday before Thanksgiving is always the observance of The National Donor Sabbath. Please - put it on your church's worship and education planning calendars for next year. Wherever you are, find your local organ-donor network at The Coalition on Donation, and hook up with them. Look at how your faith community can partner with schools and civic organizations to build participation and awareness for this worthy cause. What a simple way for communities of faith to say, "Our faith and our beliefs matter - not just inside this building, but out in the world!"

My own ongoing crusade will be to reach out through the Association of Chicago Theological Schools (the ACTS consortium) to try to get this message out to every person who's preparing for clinical pastoral education (CPE) sessions. The 12 ACTS-member seminaries have almost 2,500 students - a significant number of them headed toward pastoral or chaplaincy roles. Those students, along with faculty and staff, could be an incredible resource in breaking down walls of ignorance about this topic. And let's face it - who will end up involved in end-of-life situations more than these people will?

I wouldn't have guessed this - not at first, anyway...

But it's close, I guess...check it out for yourself...thanks to Bobbie for the clue-in!


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Life imitates art...again...or still

OK, so I never was much of a fan of author/director Terry Southern - best known for "Easy Rider" and "Dr. Strangelove." I only vaguely remember the movie "The Magic Christian," which is neither about magic nor Christians, really.

But as this Washington Post article shows, Southern's art is very, very much the vogue, decades after he was largely declared to be a non-event in the media world. Reading this article, I wonder why one of these hopeless "reality" shows hasn't stolen a page out of Southern's playbook.

Or maybe they have.

[As an aside...if I'd known that "Dr. Strangelove" was (in the word's of Southern's web site) "John Kerry's favorite movie," would it have changed my vote?...hmmm....]

So you don't think write-in votes can change the world?

Don't tell the folks in San Diego that. They know better. Click here to see the story. (You'll probably have to register - for free - but it's worth it.)

Thank you, Donna Frye, for the courage to change the things you can.

Getting angry at "what sucks"

I've found quite a number of kindred spirits out here in the blogosphere. One of them who consistently probes the balloon of my self-image and beliefs with a sharp needle is Rick, author of a new life emerging. The other day, he posted this entry entitled "Focusing on What Sucks... Sucks." It's definitely worth reading - and since my attitude, when I read it, was closer to "raw-sewage-brown" than "blue-sky," it was exactly what I needed to read at the time... and I told Rick so. (I find that God's economy is pretty amazing, that way...when the student is finally ready to hear, the teacher appears.)

However, this afternoon I read something by Chris over here at Radio Rebellion about the Iraqi war, and it just set me off. This topic has the ability to fire me up like few others...as you can no doubt tell from my comments/sermon/rant at the bottom of his post.

I know, in my heart, that anger and resentment are poisonous to me. I can stay in the negative, and just spiral down into hopelessness, helplessness, and rage - in a New York minute. The book Alocholics Anonymous tell me that

Resentment is the "number one" offender... From it stem all forms of spiritual disease...It is plain that a life which includes deep resentment leads only to futility and unhappiness. To the precise extent that we permit these, do we squander the hours that might have been worth while... [For those] whose hope is the maintenance and growth of a spiritual experience, this business of resentment is infinitely grave. We found that it is fatal. For when harboring such feelings we shut ourselves off from the sunlight of the Spirit. (Alcoholics Anonymous, chapter 5, pages 64, 66)

And later on, it also clearly says that

We try not to indulge in cynicism over the state of the nations, nor do we carry the world's troubles on our shoulders. (chapter 9, page 132)

My struggle is, how do I get angry at injustice, at injury, at actions and beliefs which are clearly against the greater good, and stir up resistance to evil... and at the same time, maintain my sanity and serenity, without which I'm as good as dead?

You see, for better or worse, I am a child of the 60's and 70's. There was an awful lot of Peter Paul & Mary, Pete Seeger and Arlo Guthrie mixed in with my rock-&-roll diet. There didn't seem to be a single neighborhood that was untouched by the Vietnam war - no church that had not had a flag-draped casket in its sanctuary. Even though I was only five when Martin Luther King delivered his famous "I Have a Dream" speech, I came to understand that racism was something worth getting angry about, and racial injustice needed to stop. As a teen, one of my mentors was Bob Walker, a youth-group advisor who often used the supposed-Buddhist acronym ITCTWWSOFCN - which he translated as "impossible to change the world while sitting on fanny contemplating navel."

Even in my brief sortie into seminary life, I have encountered folks like Heidi Neumark (read a wonderful interview with her here), Ed Chambers, Kim Bobo and the National Interfaith Council for Worker Justice and a whole bunch of folks like them, who believe that anger over injustice, and taking action to right those injustices, is part and parcel of where Jesus calls them in their faith walk.

Nicky Gumbel, one of the central figures in the Alpha Program, starts the first recorded talk of the Alpha series with "Christianity: Boring, Irrelevant, Untrue?" We will talk about charges 1 and 3 later, but for me, #2 was definitely true. What I found in church seemed completely irrelevant to what I was living and breathing at the time. And even though much of that was formed as a rebellious teenager, I have to say that much of my experience in the church today echoes that experience.

I have to believe that if the Church - emergent, pre-emergent, mainline, you name it - is going to remain relevant in the world, we need to continue to understand that following Christ isn't defending the world from the GLBT community, and it isn't ensuring the permanence of one-man-and-one-woman. It means two Great Commandments, and one Great Commission - and being willing to take a stand on what doesn't fit into that very, very large spiritual triangle.

And, as an old friend would say, "that's worth gettin' het-up about."

That's probably not the last word I'm gonna write on this...but for now, it'll do.

Want a laugh?

Check out this article. It's exactly what I needed today.

Veterans Day: "A Pittance of Time"

Take two minutes...to remember.

Our neighbors in Canada (where Veterans Day is "Remembrance Day") have produced a beautiful video about remembering veterans. Follow this link to read the story, and watch the video...it's worth every minute. I admit that I can be a weepy sap at times, but this one brought unashamed tears to my eyes. Spread it around, girls and boys.

And, if you're traveling this weekend, and see one of our servicemen (and women) as you go, stop and tell them what another blogger suggested: "I'm grateful for your service."

I don't have to agree with the policies that started - or perpetuate - this war, or any other. But I'm very, very grateful for the men and women who believe enough to put their lives on the line.

To every person who has ever served in the armed forces, in any capacity: "thank you" is a poor substitute for the gratitude in my heart for you. I hope my life and my faith can in some way be a repayment for your service.

Happy Veterans Day.

A mix of really good/weird/cool news

Good news/bad news: It seems I am going back to work on Monday. Bad news is, they only pay on the 15th and 30th, so I still need some money before then. God, help me never to get in this situation again, huh?

Weird news: This quote from Micah Jackson's blog caught my eye: It seems that, fed up with their working conditions, clergy in Canada’s United Church have decided to try collective bargaining. And, they’ve decided to join up with the Canadian Auto Workers Union. No, I am not kidding.

Cool news: Have stuff you want to get rid of? Willing to let it go for free to a good home or cause? Then you need to check out FreeCycle!

It's a group of Yahoo mail groups that post stuff that is available, or stuff that is wanted, and exchange things, all for free. I heard about it on another blog, went to their site, and found that the ChicagoFreeCycle group has been up for more than a year.

I had my dad's old Argus C3 rangefinder camera - but I've already got an SLR and a digital camera, so I really didn't need it - but I didn't want to just throw it away (and ebay would only offer a couple bucks for it). But I posted it on FreeCycle, and from 1 AM to 8 AM, I got 12 requests for it! One is a young man who's getting into photography again, and his story sounded best of all of 'em. Very worthwhile - I'm a believer! (If you join, DO read the emails about posting frequency. Your inbox could get flooded if you don't.)

That's it - I'm off and running. (Well, I've been "off" for some time, and as for "running," it's more like a slow trot. You know what I mean.)

These are not my words...

...but they bring great hope for me...and perhaps for you, too. It seems I found this exactly when I needed to find it.

This is a quote from CS Lewis, taken from Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer, (chapter 21, para 2, 4, 6-7, 10-12, 16) which are excerpted in Wayne Martindale & Jerry Root's classic The Quotable Lewis, under the heading "Devotions". (By the by - if you're going to own one CS Lewis book, get this one. It's amazing...)

In hearing Lewis' words, I find hope that my own faith is not so singularly weak as I would suspect. And hearing his rigorous honesty about his struggle with his prayer and devotional life, I find encouragement that this is not something that I struggle with, alone. So step up to the microphone, Br'er Lewis:
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The truth is, I haven't any language weak enough to depict the weakness of my spiritual life. If I weakened it enough it would cease to be language at all. As when you try to turn the gas-ring [burner on a gas stove]a little lower still, and it merely goes out.

...Prayer is irksome. An excuse to omit it is never unwelcome. When it is over, this casts a feeling of relief and holiday over the rest of the day. We are reluctant to begin. We are delighted to finish. While we are at prayer, but not while we are reading a novel or solving a cross-word puzzle, any trifle is enough to distract us...

The odd thing is that this reluctance to pray is not confined to periods of dryness. When yesterday's prayers were full of comfort and exaltation, todays will still be felt as, in some degree, a burden....What can be done for - or what should be done with - a rose-tree that dislikes producing roses? Surely it ought to want to?...

The painful effort which prayer involves is no proof that we are doing something we were not created to do...I must say my prayers today whether I feel devout or not; but that is only as I must learn my grammar if I am ever to read the poets.

...I have a notion that what seem our worst prayers may really be, in God's eyes, our best. Those, I mean, which are least supported by devotional feeling and contend with the greatest disinclination. For these, perhaps, being nearly all will, come from a deeper level than feeling.
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For the gift of honesty, for the gift of language - and for the gift of speaking from the heart, even when it hurts - I give thanks for CS Lewis today, Lord. Amen.

A Tuesday morning prayer

Teach us, God, how to be humble in praying, though we may not kneel; how to turn our sight to the inner world of life as we close our eyes; how to cease from restless labors while we fold our hands in peace. If, in prayer, your mercy comes like healing on our unquiet hearts, teach us how to share it with one another. If life has left us shaken, be a rock for our questing feet. If we have grown confused amid the storm of circumstance, be a mighty peace steadying our hands and hearts. Be with us, we ask you, for Christ's sake. Amen. (Samuel H. Miller, Prayers For Daily Use (NY: Harper & Bros., 1957), p. 27.)

(Who's Samuel Miller? Check it out here.)

A night for mulligan stew

Lots of random neurons firing tonight - no concerted grand opus of philosophy tonight. Definitely in 4-wheel "ragamuffin" mode...

Employment: After some steady temporary employment, I have again hit a dearth of income. This is getting ridiculous. At this rate, I'm not going to be able to stay in this city much longer. And maybe...just maybe...that is the message that I haven't wanted to hear. I don't know...there is such promise here, and I am finally starting to see some light in "recovery" from my depression and spiritual struggles. But I can't take much more of this financial insecurity...it really is a spirit-crusher. And the longer I go without work, and the further behind I get, the more hopeless it looks. It's just getting hard to suit up and show up, as they say. More interviews tomorrow - 8:30 and 10 AM, 1:00 PM CDt. We'll see.

Election aftermath: I almost hate reading the news - especially as I hear the loving "Who's yo' daddy?!?" talk from Catholics and evangelical Christians. Consider this quote from an AP article on Yahoo tonight:

"There is no reconciliation between good and evil," wrote Mary Ann Kreitzer of Les Femmes, an organization of conservative Roman Catholic women. "Voters rejected the party of gay activists, radical feminists, the Hollywood elite, pornographers, death-peddlers, anti-Christian bigots and apostate Catholics."("Liberals Dismayed by 'Moral Values' Claims," By David Crary, AP National Writer, Mon Nov 8, 6:10 PM ET)

Well, I guess it's helpful to know where I stand...evidently stuck with the anti-Christian bigots, standing in opposition to the Christian bigots. God help us all.

One hopeful voice, at least, comes from (are you ready? dun dun duh DUH!) the ELCA. In the same article, we read this:

However, the Rev. Stephen Bouman, a New York-based bishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, worries that conservative Christians' definition of "moral values" may be too narrow to accommodate those of different faiths and backgrounds, including new immigrants. "One thing Jesus was absolutely clear about was helping the poor, and the welcoming of strangers," Bouman said. "Maybe this election was a wake-up call to have a serious conversation about what morality means, to look at what sort of country we're becoming."

Boy, you think?

Life in Chicago: I had the opportunity to learn a great deal about a notorious case of police brutality in Chicago several years ago. I'm not sure what was more horrifying - the idea of what the "to protect and serve" boys and girls can do to a fellow human being, or the blase' attitude of the fellow members of the "focus group" I was a part of. Two things - one, it astonished me how much the black members of the group bought into the concept that a white man in Hyde Park is worth more than a black man on Kedzie Ave. The other thing was that when I asked how this kind of violence was even possible, at least two people visibly shrugged and said, almost as a chorus, "Well, this IS Chicago, after all..."

That was on Friday. Saturday and Sunday, as I walked or biked around Hyde Park, I found myself freezing to the spot whenever a Chicago police vehicle drove by. I found myself just terrified of doing anything - or worse yet, being seen as doing anything - that might attract their ire (or worse, their action). Now, I learned as a wee bitty boy that if someone in authority says "Stop," you stop. But trust me, I'm going to be a lot more careful of what I'm doing when they're around, from now on.

Issues of faith and church: I've stumbled across more than a couple blogs that are arguing the same-old-sameold - is (or isn't) the church the "inerrant" Bride of Christ? Do you really have to believe in that silly resurrection stuff to be a real Christian? Is communion received from a woman "irregular and invalid"? It just makes me wonder, when we argue the things that Paul believed were "as of first importance", we "take our eyes off the prize," and I believe there's weeping in heaven.

That's it, y'all. Keep me in your prayers tomorrow as I go to do the job-interview thing.