Grandpa Stuff

We traveled today to see our grandkids and their parents (of course). Well, two out of three anyway. Damian and his little sister, Rowynne live in one city and their cousin, Colson lives with hsi parents in another.
When I was small we traveled to see family all of the time. Every four years was the trip to Ontario to see my mother's parents and her sister and her family. On an alternating four year schedule folks from Ontario would come to see us - so every 2 years we saw cousins, an aunt and uncle and grandparents.
my father's family was in Alberta, but much less organized. We saw them more, but it felt like it was almost by chance. At the very least, when things were convenient and schedules aligned we saw my dad's much bigger family.
It always intrigued me how we seemed to feel closer to the Ontario arm of the family as opposed to the Alberta clan. I think it had something to do with the intentionality of our visits. We could see the Munro clan almost anytime - but we didn't. It was hard to see the James clan, but we made the effort.
Susie and I made the effort today, and our son and daughter-in-law and their kids were really excited to see us. Well, OK, I have to admit that Rowynne still plays shy with me in person. She blows me kisses and fist bumps me online when we Skype, but she is much more demure in the flesh.
But we are being intentional. And that is the point, I think, To make sacrifices. To travel. To sleep in strange beds.To gather oneself up and go.
I am often challenged in keeping my relationships fresh and vibrant - my relationship with the Lord most of all. It shouldn't be hard. He is here always. I am a word away. A click of my phone to "off". A closing of my laptop. Turning off the TV and stereo and He is there all at once. And, so often, I ignore the availability and ease of keeping that relationship close, vibrant and rich.
I'll drive across the province or across the country to see my grandkids. Lord help me! So often I won't go to my knees to be with you.

Shalom

Audio Nerdvana

So after a long hiatus I am back and live on the internets.
I will not close this blog ever again, because if what I comment on here is reason for people to try to do me real harm, then "bring it".

So I'm on vacation and I'm geeking out over some new audio gear. The two photos are of the system - pre-upgrade - and I'll post new pics as soon as the new speakers arrive. Some folks have guns. Some folks have planes, trains and automobiles. Some have boats. Some do art. I do audio/video/music/movies and tech.

Anyway, last night I was rediscovering some of my music through a pair of speakers I'm demoing and I discovered a hidden psychedelic gem of a tune by John Hiatt. It's called "Further Stars" and it's from his 2001 album "The Tiki Bar is Open" .

It's not what you'd expect from John if you know any of his hits like "Drive South", "Have a Little Faith in Me", or "Thing Called Love".

I recommend it highly. This live video doesn't do the studio version justice, but maybe you'll be intrigued.

While we're on the subject of unexpected sounds, Pentatonix, the 21st Century Acapella quintet Supreme, covered Gotye's "Somebody That I used to Know" and their rendition is amazing. Again, I highly recommend it.

This time the video is great. I think a hi-def download of this would be killer on a decent system.

And in closing, I seem to discover just how good something is when it comes up in a genius mix while we're travelling. I just can't seem to get enough of the pop/rock sound Neon Trees serves up on their album "Picture Show". Here is a guilty pleasure that I always crank right up. It's called "Mad Love". Audio only, but it's all you really need.
Enjoy peoples!

Monday Morning Letters

Today the letter came.  Pastors get "Monday Morning Letters".  Invariably they are eruptions of frustration and festering discontent that range like downwind birdshot - indiscriminately peppering the relational landscape of the community.  They happen on Mondays because we have such outrageous and unhealthy expectations of Sundays - and the least little nudge can tip the balance and cause the emotional detritus to cascade forth.

People who write Monday Morning Letters always send them late Sunday night.  They let them loose after a day of stewing and festering, and because they can't sleep with the monster they have wrestled with - they exorcise it onto the page and release it.  I imagine they sleep well.  Their recipients won't for many days afterwards.

Monday Morning Letters are always beside the point.  Like pointing out Hitler was a vegetarian, or that Jesus was a carpenter's son.  What they aim at is hardly ever the real story.  But they do illuminate that something needs to be addressed.  What follows is often a singularly twisted hunt for relevance and truth.  And the conclusions that Monday Morning Letters precipitate are never as useful in the long run as they seem in the moment.

Monday Morning Letters are seen as a natural right of expression for the people who author them.  Never mind that, for Christians particularly, talking is always preferable.  Instructions, recipes, shopping lists, driving directions, general information almost always makes sense enough written down.  Emotional eruptions regarding unmet expectations and perceived inequities never make sense in prose.

For pastors these Monday Morning Letters are the "black marks" of ministry.  They get dealt with in the short term, but leave a lasting stain that hinders slightly.  Like that scratch on the fender of your car - too small to bother to buff it out, but eventually part of the reason why the car is no longer suitable to the owner's needs.

Monday Morning Letters carry phrases like "for a long time", "no idea", "what we are paying for", "doesn't understand", "can't know", "always been", "never been", "others agree", "should", "shouldn't", "huge", "big", "awful" - and it goes on.  The implications are always that something has been amiss for some time and the leadership has been collectively (often wilfully) unaware.  Something must be done.

Monday Morning Letters never offer solutions - yet they indicate that drastic measures are invariably needed.  Pressure is applied.  Something has to give.  Satisfaction is the ultimate goal! Never understanding. And reconciliation is as unlikely as it is unmentionable.

I have had a couple of small Monday Morning Letters in the 26 months I have been at this place.  Let me remember - one regarding preaching about stillness, solitude and contemplation of God and His word (I was too "New Age").  One about calling God "The Big Guy" - a term of endearment for me, not for some though.  A complaint about not protecting the "study hour" because we allowed an ad hoc choir to practice for Easter. And now today's Big Monday Morning Letter - two and a half pages, of which I was the subject of only the first two paragraphs. Twenty-five and a half months into my service here.

Monday Morning Letters start chains of events that their authors have no conception about.  They always start countdown clocks in ministry.  Countdown clocks to the end of the service of the person they are about. April 14, 2013 - and the clock is running on my service here.  How long it ticks until the alarm goes off will be determined by how many more Monday Morning Letters mark me.

No Shalam
No Shalom
Today

The Fat Shall Never Lead Us

This article caused my own personal, deeply painful and utterly mind-numbing angst to rise up in yet another attempt to strangle my spirit.

Here's the 'skinny' on how this affects me. I am 'morbidly obese'. I'm somewhere around 120 lbs overweight. I have a reason. I'm hypothyroid. I have lost around 25 lbs in 2009 and I'm working on losing more, but it is exceptionally difficult for me (check out symptom # 3). And in the mean time I keep running into this attitude in the 'christian culture' - "Obesity is a spiritual/moral issue and evidence of (choose one or more):

1. Lack of Faith
2. Lack of Moral Consistency
3. Evidence of Sin (particularly 'Gluttony')
4. Evidence of a Lack of Qualification for Spiritual Leadership

On the opposite side of this are the common 'christian' axioms - "God Loves You Just as You Are"; "God Uses People Who Don't Measure Up by Worldly Standards"; "It's Not About Who You Are But Where Your Faith Lies"; "Don't Judge" and so on.

This drives me crazy!

Oh, it hurts, too.

I was at a Willow Creek Leadership Summit around 2000 and Bill Hybels was interviewing Chuck Colson. At the time Chuck was getting on in years and the conversation turned to personal health. Chuck mentioned a new piece of exercise hardware he had just purchased and the two of them were sharing a moment when their guards came down and one of them said something to the effect that you couldn't really be an effective Christian leader if you were overweight. Suddenly Hybel's brain cut in and he realized that they had crossed a line. They backtracked but the damage was done for me. From that moment on, I noticed that everyone on the platform at Willow Creek (and at the church in Calgary where we were watching the satellite feed) were all skinny, good-looking folks. I have nothing against skinny, good-looking folks - but where was I represented in that conference as a Christian leader?

As if to add insult to injury, at that time the only really well-known North American Christian leader of ample proportions was Jerry Falwell. You can insert your own cynical comment here. And if you look around at the lineup on any Christian summit/conference/shindig poster all you will see is skinny, good looking guys and gals. If you go to the websites of any major evangelical, protestant church much more often than not the senior pastor will be a well-proportioned white guy.

Now I freely admit there is a good point about doing what we can to live healthy and be fit. It's a good thing. Our bodies are gifts. We should care for them. And I freely admit that I abused my body in my life. But the actual shape I'm in shouldn't be used as a measure of my love and commitment to Christ or as a measure of my fitness to serve Him.

I love Christ.

I've answered His call on my life (after I developed hypothyroidism). I've spent nearly 15 years really working this out in my life. And I believe in a Kingdom that welcomes in the marginalized and sinful. But we still keep on following human biases in how we perceive each other. And lately, it's felt like the next thing that going to move from immoral to illegal is obesity.

And I'm a fat deer caught in the headlights of opinion and judgment.

So for the time being I console myself with the thought that all of the disciples couldn't have been perfect physical specimens. I imagine that at least one of them - who up until he met Jesus was spending most of his time collecting money in a booth others came to, was making a way above average income and probably enjoyed a richer diet than the rest - looked like me.

What would it do to your ideas about Christianity if the first Gospel was written by a fat guy?

Hey Saint Matthew! Word Brother!

(Not so much)
Shalom
(this morning. Sorry.)

Back to School?

I was one of those students for whom High school was a breeze. It made me unpopular with my peers so I tried flunking for a while. That made me unpopular with the teachers and my parents, and they had the power to detain and discipline me. That didn't compare with the power my peers had to torture me emotionally.

My solution - I dropped out. Intelligence has nothing to do with wisdom.

Twenty-one years later I went back to school as a "mature" student. The criteria for determining "mature" status was my age - 38 - and my financial ability to pay the tuition. My academic prowess was assessed and it was discovered I still had "it" - whatever "it" was that made me a good student before was still there and largely functional, plus I had a new asset - motivation. Peer pressure - no longer a factor. The only threat of discipline was the possibility of watching $20,000 go "bye-bye" with nothing to show for it - oh, and the resulting response that my wife would no doubt share with me. "The fear of the Lord (or your spouse) is the beginning of all wisdom."

With my shiny new Master's degree under my arm I entered the ministry. Later I discovered the darn thing did not inflate like a "Mae West" life jacket, nor did it contain a parachute, soft pillow to fall on or even a tiny pink umbrella I could hold over my head to deflect the boulders falling on me. Instead, I discovered the "better questions" I had acquired as I pursued the degree were the new tools I was using to seek better answers. And all that stuff every single prof, instructor, sessional lecturer and staff member at the seminary had told me about trusting Jesus - all of that was Gospel Truth.

I'm seven years down the road in ministry and I'll be 49 this July. I should be taking a sabbatical (I'll wait for the apoplectic laughter to die down out there), but instead I'm considering what feels like another call from God to go back to school. It feels like what I followed eleven years ago - but different, too.

The school I attended has been/is in turmoil lately. Big changes. Unsure future. Huge decisions to be made. Financial stuff, too. But the seminary portion is (should be) largely unaffected by all of this. And they have or are in the process of creating a Doctor of Ministry programme. The president of the school and the person in charge of church and alumni relations have assured me this is so - and I trust them.

My why reason to go back is because I am feeling prompted in this direction by God. I have no illusions about the amount of work and effort this will take (OK maybe I do, but the thought of school does scare me pretty much so I figure I'm being at least a little rational here). My goal is to become more useful to God and His church in any way I can. My hope is to teach a little bit one day in a seminary or other more formal setting than the local church (Yeah I'm weird that way - I like school).

But there is a lot of uncertainty - not the least of which is how in the heck I would pay for something like this (which was one of the big questions eleven years ago, too). So I'm praying - you could pray with me, too (It couldn't hurt.) I have given myself until my birthday next year to either enroll or set it aside. Of course quite a few other things will have to be in place before then if I am to go this way.

It's probably too soon to start sharpening pencils and buying loose-leaf paper, but I do have a nearly brand-new lap-top so maybe I'm more functionally ready than I think I am.

I guess I'm waiting to hear the school bell.

Shalom

Quietly It Begins

I'm self-publishing some fiction online here.

Critics, be gentle please.

*gulp*

Follow Up Release

Hot on the heels of my outrageously inaccessible debut CD we are offering an equally unavailable follow-up release guaranteed to generate at least as much spurious interest as any non-event you have never witnessed.

Due to purely speculative creative differences between my id and super-ego I/we were forced to rename the group while imaginary yet concretely expensive solicitors hash out the contract disputes in a Kangaroo court located (conveniently) in Perth, Australia.


p-y method

for the new metaphors

Remember - We're Incognito Records - you can't find us because we don't want to be found.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHH!!!!!!

Vacation.
Nearly.
Over.

OK, I Love You, Buh-Bye!

Vacation, sweet vacation.

Try not to let your world spin madly out of control without me.

I will be back. (But right now that's the LAST thing I want to think of.)