Angst

Anyone that knows me well will be able to tell you that I have been through quite a lot these past few months. The stresses and anxieties of life, the ministry to which God has called me, and the choices I have made have led at times to some rather dark places.

The interesting thing about these places is that through them I have yet again become acquainted with my own creativity. Yes, in some sense I suppose its always there, latent and waiting. But it is only extreme emotion--most often sadness and longing--that brings it to the fore.

Why? Well, for me it is these moments when I am most in touch with my own emotions. When what I feel is right near the top of my mind. When it flows most easily into words.

It is never fun to feel this way. Not one bit. Even so, it is mostly then I feel that I can really speak truth...really get inspired...really be honest about life. Really share something that is true in a very particular way.

Facts are sometimes just facts. As a historian I deal with them frequently...and I like them. It's why when I first became a Christian the historical books of the Bible were my favorites. I enjoyed the stories.

Yet some years later I find my preferences have shifted, tending more towards the poetic and emotional books of the biblical canon.

Psalms. Jeremiah. Ecclesiastes.

Though the stories of Genesis are often quite interesting, I feel as if I understand them pretty well by now. I get what happened with Noah. With King Josiah. With Cain and Abel.

The emotions felt by the prophets and psalm writers? Well, I understand them too...but each time I read them I am able to experience them anew. To feel as they do. To hear their words and know they are true in a way that never gets old.

When I am going through tough times, their stringent and emotional honesty help carry me along in a way that I'm not sure any book of history could. Those writings have their use--to be sure--and are often full of gritty feeling themselves...but I know that when I am depressed, the first place I often go is David's psalms.

Because, well, I love them.

As I Sin

I'm currently reading through As I Lay Dying by Richard John Neuhaus. It's a thin little volume in which he reflects upon a time in his life when he almost died.

Cancer was a part of that experience, and his reflections on it have made me stop and think:

"...it is not really an invader; it is something internal to myself. It is a part of myself that went madly wild. What had happened in not the result of weakness or decline, but of an explosion of healthiness---cancer is a healthiness that is radically disordered, that is disengaged from the rest of the body, and therefore deadly in its vibrant aliveness."

You see, I've often heard sin compared to cancer. While I thought it perhaps a fitting analogy, I never gave it much thought. It seemed just another way of saying that sin was bad.

End of story.

But when I think of sin like cancer cells, it makes sense. Sin takes what we have--the good in us--and radically distorts it. Changes it. Takes what is at base life-giving energy and turns it to destructive directions.

It mistunes our hearts. Takes love and twists it into hate. Takes a healthy passion and makes it dangerous lust. Turns our love of God's creation into an excuse for materialism. It's tricky.

Sin is a cancer. It takes what was pure and ruins it. Has from the beginning.

And perhaps because it's so deeply connected to other good things inside of us it may be all the more difficult to see.

Leonardo's Cipher

Today the movie that everyone has been talking about opens in theaters.

The one based on the book everyone's been talking about.

Ya, The Da Vinci Code.

There has been a lot written about the book and the new movie. Frankly, more than anyone should attempt to read. And there's been a lot of debate and controversy. A lot.

I don't really want talk about all of that here. Many others have done a lot more research and are able present the facts in a much better way than I can.

What interests me is how such a conspiracy story became so popular. Grabbed the public's attention in just the right way. Made us more and more interested in things like Mary Magdalene, the Holy Grail, and Opus Dei.

While there are probably a lot of reasons, I suspect some of it has to do with boredom. What I mean by this is that many times life just seems too routine. As far as we can tell nothing special or exciting ever seems to happen and there is little magic left.

Whatever wonder we once held when looking at the world has regretfully faded away with the passing years of childhood.

What's left? Just life. And it seems far too plain.

It's why, I think, stories of adventure and fantasy really grasp our attention. Wizards and hobbits and space adventurers--despite their seemingly impossible actions--continue to draw our focus. They do so because they take us to another world that seems more alive than our own. More exciting. More wonder-full.

Conspiracy theories and tales of secret societies do the same thing, which is part of the reason why Dan Brown's story has become so popular. They make us wish for a more interesting universe and feel woefully dissatisfied with our own.

The effect of all such flights of fancy? Well, I don't know. Some would say that they can cause us to lose touch with reality. Others might consider them a waste of time. And they can be.

Me? Well, even if our worlds of wonder are factually inaccurate (like The Da Vinci Code) they still draw on some sense of yearning within all of us. And like my friend C. S. Lewis, I have a fair idea where all of this yearning is ultimately directed.

Our sehnsucht? Our longing? It is partially addressed by these stories but really seeks to point us farther up and farther in to a world far beyond human understanding--the world of God.

It's a world that does make our own pale in comparison, because it is so much more real.

Burnt Away

It's been my experience that I've been happiest when I've been involved with other people. Doing something larger than myself. Building relationships.

That's why some of my first advice to college students is "Get Involved." Starting out in new place surrounded by unfamiliar people can be daunting, especially if like me you are not the most outgoing person to begin with. And often it is only by partnering with others that we can begin to take ownership of our surroundings and feel as if we are a part of something beyond us.

While it is easy for me to imagine life without such connections--Heaven knows I've been there before--such thoughts are not pleasant ones. Life lived only for oneself can be cold and dark. Inward and backward. Sad, small, and lonely. Believe me, I know.

And I have to think that there's more to it than this. If, after all, simply getting involved in something with others is important for our emotional and spiritual well-being, how much more foundational it is to find that thing which we were made for and throw ourselves into it.

Here, I guess, is what I am saying: don't do things half-heartedly. If you know your calling and life's purpose, do not ever hold back. Be who you were meant to be. Spend yourself in the work of your life. Give all you have. Stop worrying about what will happen and just put it all on the line.

You see, we spend ourselves in so many things that fall so short of what each of us were specifically made for. We've all done it...I just hope that we can somehow learn to stop and then start realizing how much more we are called to. Hope much all those bits of ourselves we waste cannot ever come back.

Some might urge caution, telling us that we should slow down, hedge our bets. Part of that makes sense, but part of it makes me sad. Makes me feel that in doing so we would fall woefully short of where we should be.

After all, how could it possibly be a bad thing to fully burn the candle of our lives if giving light was our purpose in the first place?

Everyone

Who can say, "I have kept my heart pure; I am clean and without sin"?
Proverbs 20:9

No one, actually. Not me at least. And while this may seem somewhat forward, I suspect not you either.

Christians throughout the centuries have believed this to be true. Our experience has taught us it is. We just know it.

And we know more than that too. We know that because of our sin Jesus died. Because of our failure we are in need of his grace.

We know it well...but often far too generally. You see, it's a much different thing to sigh softly and say that everyone has sinned than to say to yourself, "Here's what I did wrong. Here's what I messed up with."

Taking the time to admit that is necessary. It can save me from the pride of thinking I am perfect.

Taking the time to admit this to the people around us can allow us to really begin to be honest with one another and build mature relationships. And it can help us to see our sin in perspective.

While the mistakes we make can be serious and the comfort we may get from knowing that others have failed is only slight solace in the midst of life's storms, it is something. It is something to know that our mistakes-though often serious--are not the end of the world. That despite how guilty we might feel, we are not alone and never wholly irredeemable.

There are times when all of our hearts are not pure. When we are dirty. Dangerous and damaging times common to every human being.

But they are not the end of the story. Not the end of God's grace. And that's something I am sure of.

It's About Time

"When the wine was gone, Jesus' mother said to him, 'They have no more wine.'"

"Dear woman, why do you involve me?" Jesus replied. "My time has not yet come."

This week begins a new phase in my life. Over the course of the past few years I've gone from child to adult, from student to graduate, from volunteer to youth pastor...and now I'm going from intern to supervisor.

This week marks the first time in my life I'm overseeing an intern. He's helping out with our youth ministry this summer, and I am excited about the prospects. In three days I've been able to accomplish more than in the entirety of the past two months. It's astounding.

But at a certain level, its daunting having him here. Daunting to realize that I am responsible for directing someone else in this way. I don't know if I feel ready for this step...but here it is.

I think of Jesus early in the book of John. Not yet having started his ministry in earnest...not yet having performed a miracle. And there's his mom, telling him to get out there and starting really living his calling.

His response is not that enthusiastic. He tells her it's not his time. Why? Well, maybe he's not quite ready yet. Maybe for a fleeting moment he's not sure. Or maybe he's talking about something else entirely. I don't know.

All the same, I take comfort in these words...the words of what may be a slightly hesitant Savior thinking about taking his first steps in fulfilling the time He was called for.

While our callings are different than his, we often face the same kinds of moments. Dividing lines in our lives between childhood and adult life, simply living and real destiny. And sure, we can try and turn away, hopefully imagining that the time we've both looked forward to and deeply feared might be put off for just a little while longer. It's a real option.

Or like Jesus ends up doing, we might stop for a moment, considering the purpose we were made for, and see what we can do about that lack of wine right in front of us.

Nietzsche Revisited

"For freedom that Christ set us free; stand fast therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery." -Galatians 5:1

Rules, laws, guidelines...I don't think Christians are supposed to follow any of them. At the risk of sounding arrogant, I'm just going to say it: we're beyond that. We're beyond right and wrong. We're beyond good and evil.

This sounds shocking. It sounds heretical. It sounds like I want the world filled with a bunch of Christian hedonists. I know.

All the same, I think what I've said it makes a lot of sense. Sure, the law helps society function, makes the cogs of human living function smoothly. But it is limited.

You see, rules simply hold us in place, only keep us from transgressing. Make us feel happy when we're "good" and guilty when we're "bad." But while they often rescue us from excess and keep us in line, they don't really make us better people. Just better trained animals.

And that's a problem.

Rules and laws often make us live in fear as much as they offer real guidance. And a lot of times, we can spend so much time trying to live up to them that it just drives us nuts.

It was Jesus who came along to free us from all these rules....and He did. As Christians, we are now free from the Law, free from rules that hold us down, free from worrying about whether we're evil or vainly trying to show others that we're good.

Finally, we can just live.

It's not a random and reckless kind of selfish living--to be sure--but a live lived in Christ. A new life lived in the Spirit. A life lived in love.

Which, I'm convinced, is a life that is much better than one that spends all its time concerned about things like good and evil. Yes, it is a life of good...but it's much more than that. It is the way we were always meant to be.

Sound scary? Ya, it does. Scary because we don't have the safety net of right and wrong anymore, just our trust in the power of the Spirit and the grace of God. But I'm convinced--no matter how hard it might be for me to actually live out--that it is the way of the Christian.

Opa

Now, my other grandfather...he's quite a character.

It's from him I get my last name, 50% of my German blood, and a certain boyish sparkle in my eye that can't help showing up from time to time.

He and my father are the two people in this world that I take after the most.

Which is sometimes a little scary.

Like me, my grandfather is a minister. Our faith has been a shared one for over a decade...but this new ministerial connection is unique in its own way. You see, as my faith has matured and grown and my theology become "more complex," I've found that he and I have ended up agreeing on a lot of things.

It's not the kind of connection I would have expected between a 72 year old retired pastor and a young seminarian...but nevertheless there it is.

Not too long ago I helped interview my grandfather for a project I was working on. In that conversation, he said something that I don't think I'll ever forget. Reflecting on the Church, he commented:

"I hear sometimes "a new thing, a new generation"..."in order to reach the young people we must do this, we must do that"....My answer to this is...though we as a Church have tried so many things we have not reached more or less. What we need is an outpouring of the Holy Spirit upon a congregation. If we have this, you will see what happens."

To me, that's a voice that echoes of experience with God. Experience in ministry. It accords with the best of theology and the truth of Scripture. It's something that a young man can say easily without thinking about it or feeling its depth...but that an old man who has spent a lifetime reflecting upon it realizes in all its power.

His words and words like them are things every Christian needs to hear. They're things I as a youth pastor need to hear. Because they remind us it is not about what we do. That our power is limited. That our schemes and efforts and plans alone often amount to so little and can often completely miss the mark.

But God's power? Well, that's a much different story. For just as no amount of scheming in utero could have changed the family I was supposed to be born into and the grandfathers I was meant to have, it is God alone who charts the Church's destiny and can truly change hearts and minds. As a Church we're meant to keep our eyes on Him. If we aren't doing that, what exactly are we?

Ya, the bells and whistles are sometimes there. But they're not necessary. They never were.

It's only God that makes a difference, and--as I ought constantly to remind myself--the Church needs to follow Him, not the latest trends or passions of this world.

Then, I think, we will see what happens.

Pop-Pop

The past is where I live. It's how I think. It's who I am. Matter of fact, I like the past so much that a good portion of my life's work seems destined to be focused on it.

When it comes to my personal thoughts about the past, I have often taken the time to reflect on my family's own journey. My heritage. The way in which my ancestors ended up where they were and lived the stories I've only ever heard.

And while these facts and romantic imaginings do still hold my attention, I find that the older I get the more of my own past there is to reflect on. To laugh at. To yearn for. To cry about.

I'm thinking today of my grandfather--the only person I've ever loved who has died.

And believe me, there are a lot of memories there.

Flying with him in his plane. Eagerly looking for candy in his coat pockets when he'd visit. "Helping" with his air conditioner repair business. Going to the flea market and watching him haggle over some item.

Of all these recollections, there is one above all others I hope will become a permanent part of my life.

I don't know how old I was...probably that awkward phase between child and teenager when nothing seems quite right. Some kind of nonsense was going on with my family or in my life, and he and I were together and talking. Well, he probably did most of the talking...but I definitely listened.

As we sat there he told me to be a man of my word. To keep promises that I made. To always make sure to follow through on what I said I would do. Basically, he told me I needed to be the kind of person people could depend on. I respect those words...and they've stuck with me.

And though I don't have my journal from college in front of me right now, I'm pretty sure it was when he died during my sophomore year that I pledged to live out that advice in his memory. Whatever else might happen, that's something I'll always have.

While sober reflection tells me I haven't come close to following those words as fully as I could have, remembering them now encourages me yet again to try and be the person he hoped I'd become.

Out of Sync

"Your focus determines your reality." --Qui-Gon Jinn

"For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." --Jesus

We human beings are fascinating creatures.

We have opposable thumbs.

We have harnessed fire.

We can think.

We have souls.

It's pretty darn amazing when you think about.

You see, I think sometimes of how much good each of us is capable of, how much just one person can accomplish in their life. It is truly inspiring.

And then I think about how so many of us never end up doing anything at all.

And I guess there are a lot of reasons for that. A lot of things that come up and prevent us from fulfilling our potential. From moving beyond where we are to where we should--or could--be.

Being a student for about 20 years now has taught me a lot of things. A lot of interesting things and, mostly, a lot of useless things. I've made friends and lost friends. Gone to some schools and left for others. I've been on the move for some time and to be honest, I've never really settled down.

I'm a little tired of this wandering...but I guess one useful thing that this pilgrimlike existence has taught me is how easy it is to get caught up in worlds so much smaller than the one we were meant for. How this limits our horizons and draws the shades on a much larger vision.

Church politics displacing the cause of Christ. A failed exam seeming like the end of the world. The vagaries of desire and romance leading to a loss of all perspective. Workplace intrigue becoming the thing that keeps us awake at night and drives our waking passions.

How can these things really become our worlds? How can they so consume us that we see nothing else? I don't know. But they do. Letting this happen in the short term is bad enough...but when the boundless dreams of youth are exchanged for an existence that is life in no other sense but the biological? That's tragic.

Ya, all the trade-offs (at least the ones we're aware of) seem important at the time. But are they really? Do these things that seem affect us so deeply really mean much at the end of the day? At the end of our lives? If we're completely honest, are they the things that are really important to us?

I hope not. I know they're not. Yet we let them be. We let our focus shift from the right to the easy. From where we always hoped and prayed it would be to somewhere....else.

The more I think about it, the more I realize how my perspectives and focus have been wrong in the past...and how much that has cost me.

So it is. The worlds we create and live in our minds, while coming to us so easily, are often damaging...and in the end are nothing like the world God has out there for us.

Lord, Make Me An Instrument

I've decided that being a minister has to be a calling...and I think I'm becoming more and more certain of that. Because it is so tough. Because it demands so much of one. Because at times it nearly rends a person in two. It just has to be a calling...because otherwise I don't know why anyone would do it.

I guess I'm reflecting a little on my recent experiences in life. As a pastor. As a person. You see, it's been a long year for me. I've needed to hear from God and time and again have desparately sought him in prayer.

There have been moments I've been so broken down I honestly haven't felt like doing anything else, let alone praying for others. Yet as a minister I've had too. And that's felt weird. It's made me question who's going to take the time and pray for me. How I could ever be a help to anyone when there's so much going on in my life. It's made me question whether I should be a minister at all.

In esssence, it's made me ask whether being a pastor was going to destroy my spiritual life or turn me into the worst kind of hypocrite.

Despite these questions, every now and then God somehow has shown me something different. Called out of me something that I didn't even know--or didn't remember--was there.

Just last night we had a amazing service with the youth. We talked about prayer and spent some time doing just that together with the teens.

We were able to really pray with some of the youth. Really focus in on God. And I know He spoke to some of them.

Seeing one of our teens come forward and seek God's help makes me happier than I can express. Makes me hopeful and inspires me onward.

And as I sit here and think about that reality, it also makes me realize that despite my fears and doubts, maybe my calling as a minister isn't something I should question after all.

Ya, I need prayer and the support of others. There's no denying that. But I also really desire to see God work in the lives of those whom I shepherd. Which, hopefully, is the beginning of what it means to minister to others. The beginning of living my calling by God's grace.

"Oh Divine Master, grant that I may not

So much seek to be consoled as to console;

to be understodd as to understand;

to be loved as to love;

for it is in giving that we receive;

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life."

-St. Francis of Assisi

By A Prayer

Tomorrow I'm going to be talking with my youth group about prayer.

The motivation for the talk comes from this week's passage in Mark 1, wherein Jesus goes off by himself and spends some time praying. I've always liked the image of Jesus going off and praying by himself...spending some quality time with God...getting away from it all.

I don't know if this makes me out to be some pie-in-the-sky Christian, but I have to admit there are times when I simply need to pray. When there is nothing else that I can do but fall before God and talk. Listen. Thank. Beg. Cry.

Say what you will, but I like praying and know I need it.

I still remember back in college when I'd trudge down to the somewhat spooky basement of our main chapel building and find myself heading towards the small prayer chapel.

Sometimes I'd kneel and pray. Sometimes I'd grab a hymnal and sing. Sometimes I'd pull one of the notebooks off of the shelf and begin reading the prayers of other who'd preceded me in that dimly lit room.

I'm not sure who started the tradition, but there they were: prayer journals filled with the written supplications of so many who felt and lived and loved so much. And though I may never meet their authors in this life, the words comforted me. They told me I wasn't alone in all of this and that my prayers to God were not far removed from that great company of witnesses who had gone before. It was comforting.

Maybe that's why I like the story of Jesus praying by himself in a solitary place. Because, somehow, it makes me feel a little less alone when I find myself in the same spot.

Hard To See The Dark Side Is

"I tell you the truth," Jesus replied, "no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age...and in the age to come, eternal life."

-Mark 10:29-31

This past Sunday, I was given the opportunity to preach in our church's morning services.

I decided to focus on the idea of following Jesus. What that looks like. What that means.

I started off by looking at Jesus calling the first disciples. Then I talked about him telling them to deny themselves, take up their crosses and follow Him.

And then I got to the passage in Mark 10 where he tells them to leave it all behind.

And you see, he wasn't talking about leaving behind sinful things. He was talking about leaving behind our mothers. Our sisters. Our children. Our homes.

As I was preparing the sermon, I was reminded in some way of Anakin Skywalker in the most recent Star Wars movie. In the film, he has a vision of the future and learns his wife is going to die. He doesn't know how to stop it. He can't. But trying to consumes him.

I imagine myself in the same situation and I know how hard it must have been. Like him, we may just be unable to let go. Like him, being unable to do so may destroy us. Might shipwreck our souls.

At one point, he consults a mentor of his about the situation. He asks what he should do. His reponse?

"Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose."

I'm not trying to make Jesus out to be some kind of Jedi...but what he says to his disciples sounds a lot like this. What he says to you and me sounds a lot like this.

Trying to life a live following God and--for that matter--trying to live a life at all without being able to let go is just a losing proposition. Fears, hopes, people, friends, family, loved ones, doubts...some of these are good and blessed things but in their time each may have to be left behind. And we don't have to watch Episode III to know what can happen if we don't.

So what then, is it? What is it you see after closing your eyes that you know you cannot ever let go of? That you fear to lose more than anything else?

Maybe that's just the thing we need to be ready to let go.