Today it feels like new england in Kenya...it is overcast and quite cool, definitely the kind of day that warrants a sweater! Special thanks to my parents who sent me an extra sweater in the mail - who would have thought it would be necessary? Well I am sure I will be singing a different song around Christmas time!
Speaking of which, I have been working on plans to visit a pastor I met at ANU named Peter "upcountry" in the Kisumu providence of Kenya. This is a "river and lake" region, as I'm told, and I should expect to enjoy a lot of fish and ugali! I am looking forward to this further cultural immersion, but I would appreciate prayer considering I have no idea what to expect. I'm practiced in stripping myself of expectations, but not without adequate prayer support!
Yesterday the student council of ANU met for the first time, and it's nice to watch Charles (the chairperson) step up in vision and leadership. The ANU trustees are in town, along with Dr. Jerry Lambert the Chancellor of the university. This seriously confused me. The "president" of the university is the VC (vice chancellor); I asked Dr. Lambert what function the Chancellor served if the VC runs the school? I suppose the Chancellor is like a money raising figure head (Prince Charles is the Chancellor of Oxford or something...). Before he "retired" to the Chancellorship, Dr. Lambert used to be the international commissioner of education for the Nazarene church - which means I had the opportunity to meet with him in San Diego in January of 2008; it was very good to reestablish that relationship. He is a Godly man who really encouraged me. The issues I am facing, that ANU is facing and that Kenya is facing seem no less complex after our conversation, but now I feel hopeful and optimistic about the future. I hope that I can have a spirit that inspires such Godly optimism!
I am seriously sleepy this morning. Maybe a desk nap is the solution. Roger doger, signing out.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Kenya Update 10/24/09 - 2 Month Messiah!
Today I met a sandal wearing, leper healing bearded Kenyan who claimed to be the messiah! No...just kidding. Actually, today I SANG the Messiah (Handel) with something on the order of 400 other singers! It was awesome. The concert was a fundraiser for the "Nairobi Hospice" a organization that provides a caring home for those with terminal illnesses; they also supply home care...so the concert was super awesome, we were accompanied by the Nairobi Orchestra, and directed by the director of the NCC (Nairobi Chamber Chorus) Ken Wakia. Wow, so anyway, the concert was so intense and exciting, especially the movements people know well (aka. Hallelujah all the way) I'll post a video :)
I had a great night yesterday. I was feeling very homesick after a sad Skype conversation with my family (you know...poor reception and all that) but then my friends Dibo and Jeannette came to visit! I had the opportunity to share some Oreos and milk with Dibo and his bride to be, which is great. You know the only thing that makes a great thing better is sharing it with someone else! :) We had a great time and I got to share with them how much their friendship (and their own relationship) has encouraged me the last couple months. This was followed by a guitar djembe funky breakdown session. It was a perfect solution to that season of homesickness :)
Whats coming up this week? I hope to visit St. Paul's orphanage with some fella's from campus on Friday...I'm having dinner with the missionaries and a GS on Saturday (and spending the night at Mt. Carmel on Friday)... that is all I can think of right now...
Oh! I'm playing guitar for my neighbor Xao Yi in church tomorrow - he sings so well! I'm excited to be playing for him, he's one of those singers that absolutely loves lifting his voice in praise, so it's a great encouragement. I secretly recorded us practicing earlier tonight, but I think telling blogger to upload an mp3 and a video at the same time is a bad idea...
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| Messiah Hospice Concert |
I had a great night yesterday. I was feeling very homesick after a sad Skype conversation with my family (you know...poor reception and all that) but then my friends Dibo and Jeannette came to visit! I had the opportunity to share some Oreos and milk with Dibo and his bride to be, which is great. You know the only thing that makes a great thing better is sharing it with someone else! :) We had a great time and I got to share with them how much their friendship (and their own relationship) has encouraged me the last couple months. This was followed by a guitar djembe funky breakdown session. It was a perfect solution to that season of homesickness :)
Whats coming up this week? I hope to visit St. Paul's orphanage with some fella's from campus on Friday...I'm having dinner with the missionaries and a GS on Saturday (and spending the night at Mt. Carmel on Friday)... that is all I can think of right now...
Oh! I'm playing guitar for my neighbor Xao Yi in church tomorrow - he sings so well! I'm excited to be playing for him, he's one of those singers that absolutely loves lifting his voice in praise, so it's a great encouragement. I secretly recorded us practicing earlier tonight, but I think telling blogger to upload an mp3 and a video at the same time is a bad idea...
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Kenya Update 10/23/09 - Sunday Service
Does anyone find it strange that we call our worship times every week "services"? I imagine that someone unfamiliar with the English language would consider this one of the "idiosyncrasies" of English; in every other context the word service means something different than what happens on Sunday morning or Wednesday evening! Besides the complications this might mean for an ESL student, I have often thought about the implications this has on our tradition of worship. A story in Matthew 12 tells about Jesus and his disciples breaking the Sabbath law; they were meeting their very real needs (hunger) by eating corn off the stalk. Jesus boldly refutes the protests of the Pharisees when he says: "...the son of man is master of the Sabbath!"
Barclay expands upon this in his commentary, claiming that real Christian service might be different from what a "service" has evolved to in our tradition. He writes: "Christian service is not the service of any liturgy or ritual; it is the service of human need. Christian service is not monastic retreat; it is involvement in all the tragedies and problems and demands of the human situation." If we are truly purposeful about making this "involvement" our priority, would our "services" look any different?
I don't mean to condemn Sunday morning "whatevers", perhaps it is just a poor label for a good practice. Sunday morning worship offers praise and adoration to God through song and devotion, church leadership meets the spiritual needs of congregants, and ideally, congregants meet the needs of their brothers and sisters in Christ through community and friendship. Yet how often are things ideal? Avoiding the temptation towards cynicism, I believe it is reasonable to claim that many Christians view Sunday morning as a spiritual "pit stop", a practice of self service that helps them in real and important ways, but it stops there. If the only person being served at a service is yourself, something is wrong.
It is easy to be wrapped up in our traditions, to let the logistics and habits become our reality so much so that we forget the call to serve the needy. What if someone skipped church to go to Boston and feed the homeless men and women in the Commons? Or if we missed our devotions to comfort a mourning friend or family member? If there are real, human needs in places that Christians "just don't go", should that stop us from going? That is a scary (but challenging and exciting!) thought, because there are real, human needs everywhere we look. Whether it be hungry orphans in Africa, lonely teenagers in high school or depressed co-workers at the office there are always opportunities to translate our tradition of worship "service" to a lifestyle of worship-service!
I will finish with a poem Barclay included in his commentary, but an author I have never heard of (Barclay's good at finding those) J.G. Whittier:
Barclay expands upon this in his commentary, claiming that real Christian service might be different from what a "service" has evolved to in our tradition. He writes: "Christian service is not the service of any liturgy or ritual; it is the service of human need. Christian service is not monastic retreat; it is involvement in all the tragedies and problems and demands of the human situation." If we are truly purposeful about making this "involvement" our priority, would our "services" look any different?
I don't mean to condemn Sunday morning "whatevers", perhaps it is just a poor label for a good practice. Sunday morning worship offers praise and adoration to God through song and devotion, church leadership meets the spiritual needs of congregants, and ideally, congregants meet the needs of their brothers and sisters in Christ through community and friendship. Yet how often are things ideal? Avoiding the temptation towards cynicism, I believe it is reasonable to claim that many Christians view Sunday morning as a spiritual "pit stop", a practice of self service that helps them in real and important ways, but it stops there. If the only person being served at a service is yourself, something is wrong.
It is easy to be wrapped up in our traditions, to let the logistics and habits become our reality so much so that we forget the call to serve the needy. What if someone skipped church to go to Boston and feed the homeless men and women in the Commons? Or if we missed our devotions to comfort a mourning friend or family member? If there are real, human needs in places that Christians "just don't go", should that stop us from going? That is a scary (but challenging and exciting!) thought, because there are real, human needs everywhere we look. Whether it be hungry orphans in Africa, lonely teenagers in high school or depressed co-workers at the office there are always opportunities to translate our tradition of worship "service" to a lifestyle of worship-service!
I will finish with a poem Barclay included in his commentary, but an author I have never heard of (Barclay's good at finding those) J.G. Whittier:
Oh brother man, fold to thy heart thy brother!
Where pity dwells, the peace of God is there;
To worship rightly is to love each other,
Each smile and hymn, each kindly deed a prayer.
For he whom Jesus loved hath truly spoken;
The holier worship which he deigns to bless
Restores the lost, and binds the spirit broken,
And feeds the widow and the fatherless.
Follow with reverent steps the great example
Of Him whose holy work was doing good;
So shall the wide earth seem our Father's temple.
Each loving life a psalm of gratitude.
Where pity dwells, the peace of God is there;
To worship rightly is to love each other,
Each smile and hymn, each kindly deed a prayer.
For he whom Jesus loved hath truly spoken;
The holier worship which he deigns to bless
Restores the lost, and binds the spirit broken,
And feeds the widow and the fatherless.
Follow with reverent steps the great example
Of Him whose holy work was doing good;
So shall the wide earth seem our Father's temple.
Each loving life a psalm of gratitude.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Kenya Update 10/20/09 - Nerdy Nostalgia
The past few days have been a great; today was a public holiday, so I was thrilled to get some time to read and journal. I ran this morning which was well...fun isn't the right word. It was good. Then I watched the GI Joe movie. I felt like I was watching a cartoon even though it was live action! Perhaps that was intentional? Probably not, it was just that cheesy! This afternoon we had a rehearsal for the Messiah concert this Saturday. It is to raise money for a hospice home for the dying, so it's exciting to be singing for a good cause instead of plain old entertainment. On the way home from the rehearsal (6:30/6:45 or so) all the choir kids decided they wanted to get some pizza before getting back to campus, except they didn't realize how long it would take! It took over an hour to get all the food, and the bus driver had to get back to give someone else a ride. Most of the folks went back with the bus, but a friend Kevin and I stayed to get the pizzas when they were done, taking the public transportation back to ANU. It was successful, although the traffic was horrendous (the chaos of Kenya's barely regulated traffic system is something I've gotten used to to an extent, but this evening was so hard core, it's unbelievable!) Anyway, I arrived victoriously (gloriously, even! Easy to do when you bear 6 pizzas for college students!) around 8:30. After a brief visit with my neighbors Rao Yi and Ro Lang (sp? hoo boy...) who were kind enough to pick up some bread and eggs for me, I sat down and had a lovely chat with my lovely Allison. So it was a good good day, and I'm ready for the rest of the week. I wish we had a day off every week! :) Oh, just so my post title makes sense, observe this wonderful video I found today:
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Poor Internet...
The internet decided it didn’t want my laptop to get through the proxies again here at ANU, which is sad. Yet it shouldn’t stop me from updating when Outlook happily gets me around their proxy, and I can update by email! Sweet. So, I’ve had an interesting week. Lots of traveling in and out of Nairobi which is an exhausting process, but it was worth it for the experience of singing with opera singers from Vienna, Austria. Also, it’s great to be building relationships with some of the musicians of Nairobi, specifically those who I work with and hang around at ANU. It has been a trial though trying to stay healthy in this season of late nights and stressful Matatu rides. Happily, after Wednesday I can take a breather, and re-assess my priorities. I am hoping to get some students together and get involved with the St. Paul’s children home off of ANU’s campus. It’s an orphanage that, honestly, I don’t have a lot of information about beyond a referral from the fantastic Mr. Mat Woodley. Especially in the light of this opera thing, I really feel compelled to seek out people who have tangible needs. It’s fun to sing operettas for drunk German people and to see Nairobi from different angles, but I can’t help but thing: is this what Jesus would be doing with his time? Hopefully I can have more info on this new idea by the end of the week.
I’ve been encouraged and challenged by the text of Isaiah 42 recently. It prophetically describes Jesus as the perfect servant of God:
“Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen one in whom I delight;
I will put my spirit on him and he will bring justice to the nations.
He will not shout or cry out, or raise his voice in the streets.
A bruised reed he will not break, and a smouldering wick he will not snuff out.
In faithfulness he will bring forth justice;
he will not falter or be discouraged till he establishes justice on earth.
In his law the islands put their hope.”
Does anyone know what islands are talked about in this passage? Anyway, this passage has been challenging for me in loads of different ways, but I should really get to work this morning and you can (hopefully) read and be challenged or encouraged on your own! J God bless.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Self Pity
Another memory… let me know if you are getting tired of my family stories. I received a call from my daughter’s elementary school. Christina was in 4th grade at the time, was apparently hurt in the play ground and the nurse was asking me to come and get her. Being busy in the office, I said I could get there in half hour or so, to which the nurse responded; you need to come right now! Of course I left right away, still having no details of the problem.
Apparently a two inch branch of a tree had tipped into the playground where the kids were pulling it back, sitting on it, and going for a ride upon it’s release. Christine was waiting her turn when another child pulled the branch back while she was in front of it. The branch was released and my daughter went on a completely unexpected, very painful and frightening ride. The branch caught her in the mouth, splitting her lip, driving her four front teeth into her mouth, and tearing the palate. It was a sight no parent should ever have to see.
We rushed her to an oral surgeon with a gruff, insensitive dentist chair side manner, which was more than annoying. I held her hand as he pulled the teeth forward, pushed them in place, and stitched up the palate all the while telling my nine year old not to cry because it wasn’t his fault she was injured. He was a grouchy old guy, which was the bad news … his being a good surgeon was the good news. We picked up pain medication and went home to wait on her hand and foot and help her recover the best we could.
Just about this time one of my sons came home, threw down his back pack saying … this was the worst day of my life! He began to tell his sad story of forgotten homework or unfair teachers or whatever was the crisis of the day … he was looking for some sympathy for his angst of his day when he saw his sister. Her face was swollen and bruised, she was obviously being pampered within an inch of her life … his countenance fell. Clearly his sister had sucked every ounce of available pity from the hearts of her family. Seeing there was no pity left to be had, he left his back pack and trudged wearily up to his room. It seemed like he was the only invite to his pity party that day.
What is it about a pity party that we enjoy so much? Pity, like complaint is another “path of least resistance” response to crises. Pity is the opposite of compassion. Compassion says, I feel your pain, how can I help. Pity says, I feel my pain, how can you help me. Self pity is an open invitation to a party that no one really wants to attend but they can’t refuse. The RSVP is not an option; it is not received in the mail but rather delivered in person.
Again, like complaint, pity is not a response of faith. Faith is facing the facts, part of which is the living through pain, inconvenience, injustice, or sorrow that accompany the crises of life. Self pity turns us inward as a negative, escapist, reactionary response to the insecurities of life. A faith response is pro-active, standing strong:
Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. Ephesians 6:14-17
As followers of Jesus Christ, we are not without resources. Pain and crisis do not alter the truth upon which we stand. The good news of the gospel is an ever present reality. The shield of a practical and personal faith remains as a shield against the attack of negativity and temptation. We are protected by the helmet of salvation so that when we are shaken by life we can respond on purpose in a pro-active way. We will look further at some of these issues when we discuss, Living Your Faith, as a purposeful practical life style decision. But for now: Tear up the invitation …
Apparently a two inch branch of a tree had tipped into the playground where the kids were pulling it back, sitting on it, and going for a ride upon it’s release. Christine was waiting her turn when another child pulled the branch back while she was in front of it. The branch was released and my daughter went on a completely unexpected, very painful and frightening ride. The branch caught her in the mouth, splitting her lip, driving her four front teeth into her mouth, and tearing the palate. It was a sight no parent should ever have to see.
We rushed her to an oral surgeon with a gruff, insensitive dentist chair side manner, which was more than annoying. I held her hand as he pulled the teeth forward, pushed them in place, and stitched up the palate all the while telling my nine year old not to cry because it wasn’t his fault she was injured. He was a grouchy old guy, which was the bad news … his being a good surgeon was the good news. We picked up pain medication and went home to wait on her hand and foot and help her recover the best we could.
Just about this time one of my sons came home, threw down his back pack saying … this was the worst day of my life! He began to tell his sad story of forgotten homework or unfair teachers or whatever was the crisis of the day … he was looking for some sympathy for his angst of his day when he saw his sister. Her face was swollen and bruised, she was obviously being pampered within an inch of her life … his countenance fell. Clearly his sister had sucked every ounce of available pity from the hearts of her family. Seeing there was no pity left to be had, he left his back pack and trudged wearily up to his room. It seemed like he was the only invite to his pity party that day.
What is it about a pity party that we enjoy so much? Pity, like complaint is another “path of least resistance” response to crises. Pity is the opposite of compassion. Compassion says, I feel your pain, how can I help. Pity says, I feel my pain, how can you help me. Self pity is an open invitation to a party that no one really wants to attend but they can’t refuse. The RSVP is not an option; it is not received in the mail but rather delivered in person.
Again, like complaint, pity is not a response of faith. Faith is facing the facts, part of which is the living through pain, inconvenience, injustice, or sorrow that accompany the crises of life. Self pity turns us inward as a negative, escapist, reactionary response to the insecurities of life. A faith response is pro-active, standing strong:
Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. Ephesians 6:14-17
As followers of Jesus Christ, we are not without resources. Pain and crisis do not alter the truth upon which we stand. The good news of the gospel is an ever present reality. The shield of a practical and personal faith remains as a shield against the attack of negativity and temptation. We are protected by the helmet of salvation so that when we are shaken by life we can respond on purpose in a pro-active way. We will look further at some of these issues when we discuss, Living Your Faith, as a purposeful practical life style decision. But for now: Tear up the invitation …
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Complaint ... from the best seller to be please feel free to edit/suggest
Complaint
It was a father/son moment. My third son Jonathan and I were having a pizza lunch together at one of the large, not to be named, pizza shops. The bad news was the pizza. The good news was the pizza and the price.
I had picked Jonathan up from school and we went to enjoy pizza and the normal parental prying session. Why do parents have to get so personal! Anyway, we ordered our pizza, waited as patiently as possible for a lively junior higher and a busy pastor. (Neither one of us waits well) We kept looking toward the kitchen door with anticipation.
The pizza finally arrived, saying a very few brief words of thanks, I suspended my prying and we dug in. If anticipation is half of the enjoyment … we were missing half the fun. The pizza was cold with barely a brushing of tomato sauce and just a little bit too tough for my 50 year old teeth.
Being in an assertive mood, I called the waiter over and pointed out the injustice of having trusted such a fine institution to receive a quality product and received instead that which was so far below reasonable expectations. The waiter was all apologies and quickly returned to the kitchen. Ten minutes later we received our pizza, hot and steaming, with too MUCH sauce. Topping it all off, the waiter said, the manager says the pizza is free today. It was a very cool deal that my son was able to see me at my courageous best. I stood up for my rights and that poor waiter never had a chance. My son was seriously impressed about the free pizza we enjoyed.
Not long after we were in a restaurant with the family. It hadn’t been 5 minutes after receiving our meals that Jonathan, following my stalwart example saying, this spaghetti is terrible, tell the waitress we want free spaghetti. He had learned his lesson well … the squeaky wheel gets the grease.
We live in a complaining society. We deserve a break today. We deserve to be treated well. If we are inconvenienced, ignored, or even if fate deals us a bad hand someone needs to hear about it. When life shakes you up, the “path of least resistance” response is complaint. If we take an objective step back and consider the value of complaint, there is little benefit.
Henri Nouwen, in The Return of the Prodigal Son, has an insightful perspective on the nature of complaint:
One thing I am sure. Complaining is self-perpetuating and counterproductive. Whenever I express my complaints in the hope of evoking pity and receiving the satisfaction I so much desire, the result is always the opposite of what I tried to get. A complainer is hard to live with, and very few people know how to respond to the complaints made by a self-rejecting person. The tragedy is that often, the complaint, once expressed, leads to that which is most feared: further rejection.
I may still send my cold pizza back, but the salient point is that, complaint is not a response of faith and maturity. Complaint is wishful petulant thinking … wishing in a self focused way that I would never have to face the pain, trials, and loss of living in a world where pain, disease, ignorance, and sin are a reality. Chapter Four will focus on the faith decision to “live your faith”, as an alternative to complaint, escape, blame etc. but for now … the focus is upon complaint as a negative response to the crises of life.
It was a father/son moment. My third son Jonathan and I were having a pizza lunch together at one of the large, not to be named, pizza shops. The bad news was the pizza. The good news was the pizza and the price.
I had picked Jonathan up from school and we went to enjoy pizza and the normal parental prying session. Why do parents have to get so personal! Anyway, we ordered our pizza, waited as patiently as possible for a lively junior higher and a busy pastor. (Neither one of us waits well) We kept looking toward the kitchen door with anticipation.
The pizza finally arrived, saying a very few brief words of thanks, I suspended my prying and we dug in. If anticipation is half of the enjoyment … we were missing half the fun. The pizza was cold with barely a brushing of tomato sauce and just a little bit too tough for my 50 year old teeth.
Being in an assertive mood, I called the waiter over and pointed out the injustice of having trusted such a fine institution to receive a quality product and received instead that which was so far below reasonable expectations. The waiter was all apologies and quickly returned to the kitchen. Ten minutes later we received our pizza, hot and steaming, with too MUCH sauce. Topping it all off, the waiter said, the manager says the pizza is free today. It was a very cool deal that my son was able to see me at my courageous best. I stood up for my rights and that poor waiter never had a chance. My son was seriously impressed about the free pizza we enjoyed.
Not long after we were in a restaurant with the family. It hadn’t been 5 minutes after receiving our meals that Jonathan, following my stalwart example saying, this spaghetti is terrible, tell the waitress we want free spaghetti. He had learned his lesson well … the squeaky wheel gets the grease.
We live in a complaining society. We deserve a break today. We deserve to be treated well. If we are inconvenienced, ignored, or even if fate deals us a bad hand someone needs to hear about it. When life shakes you up, the “path of least resistance” response is complaint. If we take an objective step back and consider the value of complaint, there is little benefit.
Henri Nouwen, in The Return of the Prodigal Son, has an insightful perspective on the nature of complaint:
One thing I am sure. Complaining is self-perpetuating and counterproductive. Whenever I express my complaints in the hope of evoking pity and receiving the satisfaction I so much desire, the result is always the opposite of what I tried to get. A complainer is hard to live with, and very few people know how to respond to the complaints made by a self-rejecting person. The tragedy is that often, the complaint, once expressed, leads to that which is most feared: further rejection.
I may still send my cold pizza back, but the salient point is that, complaint is not a response of faith and maturity. Complaint is wishful petulant thinking … wishing in a self focused way that I would never have to face the pain, trials, and loss of living in a world where pain, disease, ignorance, and sin are a reality. Chapter Four will focus on the faith decision to “live your faith”, as an alternative to complaint, escape, blame etc. but for now … the focus is upon complaint as a negative response to the crises of life.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Rough beginning of When Life Shakes You Up - Feedback/Criticism ?
Chapter One - Face the Facts
Some of this is cut and paste from previous writings ... needs editing
God speaks to Joshua and he doesn’t pull any punches. Moses is Dead … talk about blunt ! We don't like the bad news. Maybe you have noticed - bad news does not send an engraved invitation. Bad news comes suddenly - unexpectedly. When life shakes you up it slaps you in the face and it's the last thing you expect. .
God speaks to Joshua. Moses is dead - now it’s your turn. Think about it. Moses was one of the big guys. God had spoken to Moses in person on the top of Mount Sinai. Joshua had watched as Moses hand delivered the 10 commandments, still smoking from the hand of God. He had watched Moses deal with all the annoying whining grumbling people as he paid the price for being their leader. He watched Moses stretch his rod out and part Red Sea. It was Cecil B. Demille, in real technicolor and real life. Joshua had big shoes, rather sandals, to fill. Joshua was in over his head.
Face the Facts: Bad news is bad news …
We don’t like the news that shatters our plans and dashes our dreams. I did not like hearing I had an incurable disease. Immediately, I wanted a second opinion. There must be some mistake. Shortly after diagnosis, I was gathering information, searching online, educating myself on what I was facing. I received a large manila envelope from one of the PD research/support groups. It was stuffed full of more information than I ever wanted or needed.
The first thing to fall out of the envelope was a royal blue business sized card with bright yellow letters – with the words I AM NOT RETARDED emblazoned on the front. The back of the card explained that the carrier of the card was not retarded but rather had Parkinson’s Disease. I could use this card to let people know that I may have trouble with my words but be patient it just takes me longer. So the good news is that I am not retarded - the not so good news is I just look and act retarded. I had to face it. I had/have an incurable disease. I didn’t like it ...I don't like it … it was/is not good news.
There were frightening financial realities to face. We had a plan for getting the kids through college and preparing for retirement. Over the years, my wife Brenda has worked as a home care nurse providing care especially for pediatric cases. She is amazingly gifted as a care giver and considers it a ministry. She loves “her children” as her own. I would continue as a full time pastor and as soon as our nest was empty or maybe even during the last few high school years, she (my wife? Brenda?) would work full time. This would help the kids through school and invest in retirement so we could buy a house and settle in hopefully near family and grand children.
The problem was that God did not check in with my broker. Possibly because he knew I didn’t have a broker but he didn’t even give me any notice. Our plan was clearly a good plan. It was almost like God didn’t get it. After all we had “sacrificed” to live in a church owned parsonage our whole life. (I wish I could write another book about the blessings of raising kids in a parsonage … yes you heard/read me right!) Hadn’t we given our over 20% of our income to God’s work in the church, missions, and various building projects and special needs. We kind of deserved at least a say in the deal.
Lest you think that “facing the facts” is a formula for feeling groovy in five easy steps, when life sucks … this was certainly not my experience. Facing the facts, the hard realities of life, is a decision but also an arduous never ending process. The salesman with the bad breath, this courier of bad news: whom I will introduce shortly, was banging on the front door … and I was not about to answer.
Michael J. Fox’s books, “Lucky Man” and “The Diary of an Incurable Optimist” have been an invaluable help in writing this book. Upon being diagnosed with PD the neurologist told him he had at least ten good years of production before he would need to step back and retire. I was 49 years old and kind of accepted the ten more years of production thing, in an “I’ll deal with all that 10 years from now” sort of way. I was not about to consider that in two years, the lay leadership would be doing most of my work in the church and that in four years I would be on disability.
In retrospect, I had been slowing down for a number of years. Weekly sermons which typically involved six to eight hours of preparation, now took 12 – 20 hours. My meetings with the 10 lay pastors, who provide practical care within the congregation, would normally meet every 6 weeks. These meetings were happening perhaps twice a year. For many years I had prepared a daily devotional follow up to the weekly sermon, hoping I guess that if my people had no idea what I was saying … maybe it would make more sense in print. Somehow I just didn’t seem to be able to continue that on a weekly basis. There were times I was plagued with guilt because I was just too exhausted to visit a parishioner in the hospital. I needed to face up to the reality that I needed help.
Letting go of that which I loved so much … allowing others to fill in and make up for my deficiency was heart wrenching. So many people were so responsive to the ministry needs of the church. The church where I served as pastor for 14 years was planning an $1,000,000 expansion. During the two years before my retirement (resignation?), the building committee met without me. Nominations, elections, finances, Christian education … most of the functions of the church were cared for by volunteers with my two secretaries basically acting as a pastor in planning and facilitating the activities of the church.
My effectiveness as a pastor and leader were clearly diminished. The good news was that I had a great excuse for my work, which was from my perspective was far below my personal standards. I will deal with the blessing/curse of an excuse more fully in Chapter Three - Count Your Blessings under … “it’s not all bad” . The bad news was/is that my excuse was an incurable disease.
I didn’t like it … and it sounds like it in a journal entry late one night:
I don't want to be like this the rest of my life. I don't want my wife to have to live with this stinking blank stare spaced out look. I don't want people calling the house wondering if I'm able to answer the phone. I want to visit all day Saturday. I want to go early to church, talk to people come preach two services and talk to some more people. I want to be part of realizing that we messed up the building program and there's a much better way to do it. I don't want to keep telling people that I am too impaired to do their weddings, dedications, and if they die they need to make other arrangements. I want to keep harassing with District licensed ministers on the credentials board. I'm not the sure if I like seeing them squirm or and deeply concerned about the leadership of the church. Probably both. I want to stay out late with some with nutty people without feeling that will be a wreck on Sunday because of it.
I am so tired stupid voice software won't work. I don't want to be someone different... I want to be myself. It is that too much to ask?
No
This is what happens when my mind goes hyper. My mind has just jumped in the last one or two minutes from going to Sam’s, going to the bank, going to the driving range, going fishing, going to the wake, talking to Louise, working on Colossians, working on the cycle of victorious living diagram, meeting with Gary, going swimming, working out, taking the digital recorder back, fixing supper. What do I do to short-circuit my head from this mind blitz?
This is not like me. It is why I feel lonely or mixed up sometimes. I keep missing myself... but I am really still there. When I’m writing... that’s the real me. When I’m goofing off ... that’s the real me. When I cried... I guess that was the real me... just didn’t know it. When I preach... it’s not a persona... it’s the real me (but God’s words). So when I miss myself I just need to remember I’m still there... for the most part I’m still pretty visible. When I am trying to help people... it’s the real me... but only when I’m not trying to fix the whole world. When I am walking in puddles with Andrew... there I am... and I think it is a real Andrew as well. When hugging my wife, marveling at Jonathan’s talent or admiring Christina as a gift from God ... I am most myself. When I ask for help from friends... sometimes too often... I hope it’s the real me, not manipulating, not overly dependent... hoping to be a help to them as well.
Anyway this whole weird situation is interesting, exciting, hopeful, terrible, strange and the working of God continues in and through the whole thing.
Many who read this book (excuse the delusions of an un-published wanna-be author) will have stories of parental abuse as a child, the lingering pain as an adult victim of divorce, teachers who are not fair, an employer who has thrown them away like a used rag, friends who destroyed their reputation, a pastor who betrayed their confidence, a diagnosis that is overwhelming. None of this is good news. The fact remains … and I seldom if ever use this word but … duh … bad news is bad.
Denial is not Faith
The first response when life shakes you up is – face the facts. Don’t deny reality. Denial is not a response of faith. Faith is not wishful thinking but rather a foundation upon which you can base your response to the crises of life. Christians have been accused of hiding their heads in the sand. In no way is Christian faith some sort of spiritualized denial mechanism.
You might say that faith is a crutch for there are times of weakness when we really need the love of God and care of his people. We need to lean hard upon that which is solid and dependable. But again, faith does not entails pretending that the crisis does not exist. Examples of people who are always fantastic ?
Denial tends to be sub conscious, an involuntary response. The premise of this book is that the response to crises can be on purpose rather than involuntary. Denial takes several forms.
Initial Denial
There are times when the news is so bad that denial is necessary as a first step in coping with unthinkable bad news. My son Ryan as a sophomore in high school had been having headaches and dizzy spells at school. We took him to the doctor who immediately ordered an MRI. It was on a Friday afternoon that my wife walked through the back door of our home (the parsonage?) with an MRI film. She was white as a sheet and nearly paralyzed with fear. The MRI revealed a large white mass the size of a softball on the right frontal lobe of his brain. We took him to the emergency room and after waiting five hours the neurologist on call said he was busy and would see him in five days.
We were frightened. We knew it was serious. But in spite of what we “knew” … he still went to the New York Mets games the next day at Shea Stadium. How stupid could we be? The facts were so overwhelming that we were unable to act as though we believed it. I had been diagnosed with PD a few months earlier, there was conflict and criticism in the church concerning a building project, we could not assimilate a brain tumor on top of everything else. He even went to school on Monday morning.
The good news is that I took the MRI to Columbia Presbyterian Hospital and my neurologists in the Movement Disorder Center dropped everything to call Sloane Kettering on the other side of Manhattan. Making like a New York cab driver I madly transported the MRI across town. The surgeon said get him down here immediately. By that afternoon my son was in intensive care at Cornell-Weir Hospital for Special Surgery. On Thursday, Dr. Souedane a world class pediatric surgeon performed the operation. The tumor was fully removed, unattached to the brain, and totally benign with no trace of cancer. We are so thankful for the doctors, surgeons and staff of these amazing medical centers.
Ryan missed his last two years of high school basketball but was able to play two years of college ball. It was a gift from God and he is now a social worker in Boston with plans for seminary in the near future.
The first natural response to trauma is denial. In an interesting way it is the first step in facing the facts. It is that time in which the facts are “known” but we act as though they are not real. In this sense, initial denial is a helpful tool as a step toward facing reality.
Denial becomes a negative response when it continues beyond the initial state of shock. There is a type of pseudo-Christian response which ignores the seriousness of bad news and tragic circumstances. The attitude is God is still on the throne and everything is going to be OK. Ultimately everything will be OK for the Christian. Later I will introduce you to an important tenet of the faith, “Cheer Up … someday you’re gonna die”. By faith we believe in eternal life.
The reality of heaven does not, however, guarantee that I will be healed of my disease in this life. I will attempt to leave you puzzling over the whys and wherefores of healing/non-healing in a page or two. Jesus does not teach that the life of a disciple is a life without suffering, pain, disease, and persecution. Living by faith is not denying the suffering but rather living out the life of hope and faith even if the suffering is not miraculously removed.
Any denial of the difficult realities of life is a denial of the adequacy of Christ in whom we place our faith. Jesus is the cornerstone of our faith. He did not come to live among us, so that we could escape real life. He came; calling us as His followers to get all wrapped up in realities of a world full of sin, oppression, and injustice... seeking to save those who are lost.
When you lose your job... face the facts. When you are stricken with illness don't act as though it doesn't exist. When you fail... Afess@ up... face the music... suffer the embarrassment. When you sin, don't pretend it's a mistake, confess the sin. There's no way to deal with the things that shake your life until you look them straight in the eye. (pink slips, diagnoses, rejection, and other trials certainly must have eyes ... They find us so readily)
There are other less than positive responses to the trials of life.
Bitterness
Blame
Pity I am entitled
Why Doesn’t God Heal Me?
What About Providence?
Some of this is cut and paste from previous writings ... needs editing
God speaks to Joshua and he doesn’t pull any punches. Moses is Dead … talk about blunt ! We don't like the bad news. Maybe you have noticed - bad news does not send an engraved invitation. Bad news comes suddenly - unexpectedly. When life shakes you up it slaps you in the face and it's the last thing you expect. .
God speaks to Joshua. Moses is dead - now it’s your turn. Think about it. Moses was one of the big guys. God had spoken to Moses in person on the top of Mount Sinai. Joshua had watched as Moses hand delivered the 10 commandments, still smoking from the hand of God. He had watched Moses deal with all the annoying whining grumbling people as he paid the price for being their leader. He watched Moses stretch his rod out and part Red Sea. It was Cecil B. Demille, in real technicolor and real life. Joshua had big shoes, rather sandals, to fill. Joshua was in over his head.
Face the Facts: Bad news is bad news …
We don’t like the news that shatters our plans and dashes our dreams. I did not like hearing I had an incurable disease. Immediately, I wanted a second opinion. There must be some mistake. Shortly after diagnosis, I was gathering information, searching online, educating myself on what I was facing. I received a large manila envelope from one of the PD research/support groups. It was stuffed full of more information than I ever wanted or needed.
The first thing to fall out of the envelope was a royal blue business sized card with bright yellow letters – with the words I AM NOT RETARDED emblazoned on the front. The back of the card explained that the carrier of the card was not retarded but rather had Parkinson’s Disease. I could use this card to let people know that I may have trouble with my words but be patient it just takes me longer. So the good news is that I am not retarded - the not so good news is I just look and act retarded. I had to face it. I had/have an incurable disease. I didn’t like it ...I don't like it … it was/is not good news.
There were frightening financial realities to face. We had a plan for getting the kids through college and preparing for retirement. Over the years, my wife Brenda has worked as a home care nurse providing care especially for pediatric cases. She is amazingly gifted as a care giver and considers it a ministry. She loves “her children” as her own. I would continue as a full time pastor and as soon as our nest was empty or maybe even during the last few high school years, she (my wife? Brenda?) would work full time. This would help the kids through school and invest in retirement so we could buy a house and settle in hopefully near family and grand children.
The problem was that God did not check in with my broker. Possibly because he knew I didn’t have a broker but he didn’t even give me any notice. Our plan was clearly a good plan. It was almost like God didn’t get it. After all we had “sacrificed” to live in a church owned parsonage our whole life. (I wish I could write another book about the blessings of raising kids in a parsonage … yes you heard/read me right!) Hadn’t we given our over 20% of our income to God’s work in the church, missions, and various building projects and special needs. We kind of deserved at least a say in the deal.
Lest you think that “facing the facts” is a formula for feeling groovy in five easy steps, when life sucks … this was certainly not my experience. Facing the facts, the hard realities of life, is a decision but also an arduous never ending process. The salesman with the bad breath, this courier of bad news: whom I will introduce shortly, was banging on the front door … and I was not about to answer.
Michael J. Fox’s books, “Lucky Man” and “The Diary of an Incurable Optimist” have been an invaluable help in writing this book. Upon being diagnosed with PD the neurologist told him he had at least ten good years of production before he would need to step back and retire. I was 49 years old and kind of accepted the ten more years of production thing, in an “I’ll deal with all that 10 years from now” sort of way. I was not about to consider that in two years, the lay leadership would be doing most of my work in the church and that in four years I would be on disability.
In retrospect, I had been slowing down for a number of years. Weekly sermons which typically involved six to eight hours of preparation, now took 12 – 20 hours. My meetings with the 10 lay pastors, who provide practical care within the congregation, would normally meet every 6 weeks. These meetings were happening perhaps twice a year. For many years I had prepared a daily devotional follow up to the weekly sermon, hoping I guess that if my people had no idea what I was saying … maybe it would make more sense in print. Somehow I just didn’t seem to be able to continue that on a weekly basis. There were times I was plagued with guilt because I was just too exhausted to visit a parishioner in the hospital. I needed to face up to the reality that I needed help.
Letting go of that which I loved so much … allowing others to fill in and make up for my deficiency was heart wrenching. So many people were so responsive to the ministry needs of the church. The church where I served as pastor for 14 years was planning an $1,000,000 expansion. During the two years before my retirement (resignation?), the building committee met without me. Nominations, elections, finances, Christian education … most of the functions of the church were cared for by volunteers with my two secretaries basically acting as a pastor in planning and facilitating the activities of the church.
My effectiveness as a pastor and leader were clearly diminished. The good news was that I had a great excuse for my work, which was from my perspective was far below my personal standards. I will deal with the blessing/curse of an excuse more fully in Chapter Three - Count Your Blessings under … “it’s not all bad” . The bad news was/is that my excuse was an incurable disease.
I didn’t like it … and it sounds like it in a journal entry late one night:
I don't want to be like this the rest of my life. I don't want my wife to have to live with this stinking blank stare spaced out look. I don't want people calling the house wondering if I'm able to answer the phone. I want to visit all day Saturday. I want to go early to church, talk to people come preach two services and talk to some more people. I want to be part of realizing that we messed up the building program and there's a much better way to do it. I don't want to keep telling people that I am too impaired to do their weddings, dedications, and if they die they need to make other arrangements. I want to keep harassing with District licensed ministers on the credentials board. I'm not the sure if I like seeing them squirm or and deeply concerned about the leadership of the church. Probably both. I want to stay out late with some with nutty people without feeling that will be a wreck on Sunday because of it.
I am so tired stupid voice software won't work. I don't want to be someone different... I want to be myself. It is that too much to ask?
No
This is what happens when my mind goes hyper. My mind has just jumped in the last one or two minutes from going to Sam’s, going to the bank, going to the driving range, going fishing, going to the wake, talking to Louise, working on Colossians, working on the cycle of victorious living diagram, meeting with Gary, going swimming, working out, taking the digital recorder back, fixing supper. What do I do to short-circuit my head from this mind blitz?
This is not like me. It is why I feel lonely or mixed up sometimes. I keep missing myself... but I am really still there. When I’m writing... that’s the real me. When I’m goofing off ... that’s the real me. When I cried... I guess that was the real me... just didn’t know it. When I preach... it’s not a persona... it’s the real me (but God’s words). So when I miss myself I just need to remember I’m still there... for the most part I’m still pretty visible. When I am trying to help people... it’s the real me... but only when I’m not trying to fix the whole world. When I am walking in puddles with Andrew... there I am... and I think it is a real Andrew as well. When hugging my wife, marveling at Jonathan’s talent or admiring Christina as a gift from God ... I am most myself. When I ask for help from friends... sometimes too often... I hope it’s the real me, not manipulating, not overly dependent... hoping to be a help to them as well.
Anyway this whole weird situation is interesting, exciting, hopeful, terrible, strange and the working of God continues in and through the whole thing.
Many who read this book (excuse the delusions of an un-published wanna-be author) will have stories of parental abuse as a child, the lingering pain as an adult victim of divorce, teachers who are not fair, an employer who has thrown them away like a used rag, friends who destroyed their reputation, a pastor who betrayed their confidence, a diagnosis that is overwhelming. None of this is good news. The fact remains … and I seldom if ever use this word but … duh … bad news is bad.
Denial is not Faith
The first response when life shakes you up is – face the facts. Don’t deny reality. Denial is not a response of faith. Faith is not wishful thinking but rather a foundation upon which you can base your response to the crises of life. Christians have been accused of hiding their heads in the sand. In no way is Christian faith some sort of spiritualized denial mechanism.
You might say that faith is a crutch for there are times of weakness when we really need the love of God and care of his people. We need to lean hard upon that which is solid and dependable. But again, faith does not entails pretending that the crisis does not exist. Examples of people who are always fantastic ?
Denial tends to be sub conscious, an involuntary response. The premise of this book is that the response to crises can be on purpose rather than involuntary. Denial takes several forms.
Initial Denial
There are times when the news is so bad that denial is necessary as a first step in coping with unthinkable bad news. My son Ryan as a sophomore in high school had been having headaches and dizzy spells at school. We took him to the doctor who immediately ordered an MRI. It was on a Friday afternoon that my wife walked through the back door of our home (the parsonage?) with an MRI film. She was white as a sheet and nearly paralyzed with fear. The MRI revealed a large white mass the size of a softball on the right frontal lobe of his brain. We took him to the emergency room and after waiting five hours the neurologist on call said he was busy and would see him in five days.
We were frightened. We knew it was serious. But in spite of what we “knew” … he still went to the New York Mets games the next day at Shea Stadium. How stupid could we be? The facts were so overwhelming that we were unable to act as though we believed it. I had been diagnosed with PD a few months earlier, there was conflict and criticism in the church concerning a building project, we could not assimilate a brain tumor on top of everything else. He even went to school on Monday morning.
The good news is that I took the MRI to Columbia Presbyterian Hospital and my neurologists in the Movement Disorder Center dropped everything to call Sloane Kettering on the other side of Manhattan. Making like a New York cab driver I madly transported the MRI across town. The surgeon said get him down here immediately. By that afternoon my son was in intensive care at Cornell-Weir Hospital for Special Surgery. On Thursday, Dr. Souedane a world class pediatric surgeon performed the operation. The tumor was fully removed, unattached to the brain, and totally benign with no trace of cancer. We are so thankful for the doctors, surgeons and staff of these amazing medical centers.
Ryan missed his last two years of high school basketball but was able to play two years of college ball. It was a gift from God and he is now a social worker in Boston with plans for seminary in the near future.
The first natural response to trauma is denial. In an interesting way it is the first step in facing the facts. It is that time in which the facts are “known” but we act as though they are not real. In this sense, initial denial is a helpful tool as a step toward facing reality.
Denial becomes a negative response when it continues beyond the initial state of shock. There is a type of pseudo-Christian response which ignores the seriousness of bad news and tragic circumstances. The attitude is God is still on the throne and everything is going to be OK. Ultimately everything will be OK for the Christian. Later I will introduce you to an important tenet of the faith, “Cheer Up … someday you’re gonna die”. By faith we believe in eternal life.
The reality of heaven does not, however, guarantee that I will be healed of my disease in this life. I will attempt to leave you puzzling over the whys and wherefores of healing/non-healing in a page or two. Jesus does not teach that the life of a disciple is a life without suffering, pain, disease, and persecution. Living by faith is not denying the suffering but rather living out the life of hope and faith even if the suffering is not miraculously removed.
Any denial of the difficult realities of life is a denial of the adequacy of Christ in whom we place our faith. Jesus is the cornerstone of our faith. He did not come to live among us, so that we could escape real life. He came; calling us as His followers to get all wrapped up in realities of a world full of sin, oppression, and injustice... seeking to save those who are lost.
When you lose your job... face the facts. When you are stricken with illness don't act as though it doesn't exist. When you fail... Afess@ up... face the music... suffer the embarrassment. When you sin, don't pretend it's a mistake, confess the sin. There's no way to deal with the things that shake your life until you look them straight in the eye. (pink slips, diagnoses, rejection, and other trials certainly must have eyes ... They find us so readily)
There are other less than positive responses to the trials of life.
Bitterness
Blame
Pity I am entitled
Why Doesn’t God Heal Me?
What About Providence?
Ran across an old article I put on my blog ... for better or for worse
What to Do When Your Pastor is a Ninny
As one pastor put it, “this is a tough gig”. I would submit that having a pastor is about as tough a gig as being a pastor. Once in awhile you run into a pastor who also happens to be a ninny. A ninny is a technical term defined as “a sincere tortured soul who loves God and is oblivious to a significant amount of what is happening in the church community where he/she serves.”
By that definition it is not whether your pastor is a ninny but rather how big a ninny is she. (I will alternate genders in case some ninny reads this and can’t sleep at night because he got more space than she) Most pastors have achieved some level of ninny-hood because: 1. People are afraid to talk to him 2. She doesn’t want people to talk to him. (Sticking to the alternate gender rule if it kills me and ruins the article (even more)) 3. People would rather gossip 4. People have tried to talk to her but he wouldn’t listen.
There are some important things to remember:
God calls ninnies to do his work.
Jacob was a slippery heel grasper and couldn’t be trusted. Moses couldn’t preach his way out of a wet paper bag. Solomon lost his mind. David stayed home chasing women instead of going to war. Peter was a big mouth. Thomas was as negative as they get. Judas was greedy to the point of betrayal.
It is amazing how God uses people who are less than perfect, make mistakes, and have limited ability. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to accept your mistake making less than perfect pastor, who is not a world renowned orator and do your best to make her look good. Talk about the things he does to help others. Listen to her sermon and comment on it in such a way that people know you listened. Build him up and you will be doing God’s work.
One Person's Ninny is another persons messiah ...
Before you are critical of your pastor remember that what you do can hurt and disillusion others as well as your pastor. People have come to faith because your pastor preached effectively or knelt with them at home or held their hand at the hospital. Somewhere between 20 - 100% of the people in your church love your pastor. If you bring him down in their eyes you damage their faith and guarantee disunity in the church. Be careful. Consider others before you try to save the Kingdom of God single-handedly.
Burning at the stake rarely improves performance
Beating your pastor up does not improve her ability to serve as your pastor. Pastors care very deeply about pleasing God and sometimes even more so about pleasing people. If there is information your pastor needs to know that will cause him to expect she might be a ninny, make sure it is in the context of 10 parts encouragement to 1 part criticism. A toasted pastor will often get testy in the pulpit ... Something you do not want.
You are most likely a ninny too
Looking back at the definition, it is likely you are a sincere caring soul who is also oblivious to much of what is happening in the church. Your pastor knows circumstances and information that you cannot know that explain why she does what he does. Give her the benefit of the doubt. If you are patient with him you will set an example that will be contagious in your church fellowship. You will then be the grateful recipient of this patience when someone notices you are a ninny.
First hand information turns into 2nd and 3rd hand about 6" from your lips
Be careful who you talk to. Every word you say and some you don’t say, will be broadcast over coffee, over the phone, over the internet over and over. The "sermon was boring message" turns into the pastor’s spouse got a nose ring in about 45 minutes. Talk to your pastor first. Sure she is scary but he needs to learn to listen just like you need to learn to talk directly to her. No one survives a gossip feeding frenzy so be careful little lips what you say and to whom they say it.
Maybe God is calling you to help ninnies
Someone needs to do it. Oblivious by definition calls for someone to help remove the oblivion. Be patient. Pastor types are not always easy to help. Often he thinks he is the messiah and needs some patient therapeutic reality checks. Often recognizing her oblivion will cause him great pain and you will need to encourage her. Being a former ninny, I know how much, they need patient, persistent, caring oblivion busters. Don’t give up on your pastor. Help him become even more effective in the work God has called her to.
As one pastor put it, “this is a tough gig”. I would submit that having a pastor is about as tough a gig as being a pastor. Once in awhile you run into a pastor who also happens to be a ninny. A ninny is a technical term defined as “a sincere tortured soul who loves God and is oblivious to a significant amount of what is happening in the church community where he/she serves.”
By that definition it is not whether your pastor is a ninny but rather how big a ninny is she. (I will alternate genders in case some ninny reads this and can’t sleep at night because he got more space than she) Most pastors have achieved some level of ninny-hood because: 1. People are afraid to talk to him 2. She doesn’t want people to talk to him. (Sticking to the alternate gender rule if it kills me and ruins the article (even more)) 3. People would rather gossip 4. People have tried to talk to her but he wouldn’t listen.
There are some important things to remember:
God calls ninnies to do his work.
Jacob was a slippery heel grasper and couldn’t be trusted. Moses couldn’t preach his way out of a wet paper bag. Solomon lost his mind. David stayed home chasing women instead of going to war. Peter was a big mouth. Thomas was as negative as they get. Judas was greedy to the point of betrayal.
It is amazing how God uses people who are less than perfect, make mistakes, and have limited ability. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to accept your mistake making less than perfect pastor, who is not a world renowned orator and do your best to make her look good. Talk about the things he does to help others. Listen to her sermon and comment on it in such a way that people know you listened. Build him up and you will be doing God’s work.
One Person's Ninny is another persons messiah ...
Before you are critical of your pastor remember that what you do can hurt and disillusion others as well as your pastor. People have come to faith because your pastor preached effectively or knelt with them at home or held their hand at the hospital. Somewhere between 20 - 100% of the people in your church love your pastor. If you bring him down in their eyes you damage their faith and guarantee disunity in the church. Be careful. Consider others before you try to save the Kingdom of God single-handedly.
Burning at the stake rarely improves performance
Beating your pastor up does not improve her ability to serve as your pastor. Pastors care very deeply about pleasing God and sometimes even more so about pleasing people. If there is information your pastor needs to know that will cause him to expect she might be a ninny, make sure it is in the context of 10 parts encouragement to 1 part criticism. A toasted pastor will often get testy in the pulpit ... Something you do not want.
You are most likely a ninny too
Looking back at the definition, it is likely you are a sincere caring soul who is also oblivious to much of what is happening in the church. Your pastor knows circumstances and information that you cannot know that explain why she does what he does. Give her the benefit of the doubt. If you are patient with him you will set an example that will be contagious in your church fellowship. You will then be the grateful recipient of this patience when someone notices you are a ninny.
First hand information turns into 2nd and 3rd hand about 6" from your lips
Be careful who you talk to. Every word you say and some you don’t say, will be broadcast over coffee, over the phone, over the internet over and over. The "sermon was boring message" turns into the pastor’s spouse got a nose ring in about 45 minutes. Talk to your pastor first. Sure she is scary but he needs to learn to listen just like you need to learn to talk directly to her. No one survives a gossip feeding frenzy so be careful little lips what you say and to whom they say it.
Maybe God is calling you to help ninnies
Someone needs to do it. Oblivious by definition calls for someone to help remove the oblivion. Be patient. Pastor types are not always easy to help. Often he thinks he is the messiah and needs some patient therapeutic reality checks. Often recognizing her oblivion will cause him great pain and you will need to encourage her. Being a former ninny, I know how much, they need patient, persistent, caring oblivion busters. Don’t give up on your pastor. Help him become even more effective in the work God has called her to.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Kenya Update 10/12/09 - Time Flies!
I have had a seriously busy week and weekend! Last Thursday the ANU choir performed at the Nairobi National Museum at an event called a "Classical Evening" It was good fun. It is very interesting thinking about classical music in Kenya. There is a small group of dedicated musicians who have invested themselves entirely to creating a classical music culture in Nairobi. It does not even occur to most how incredibly fortunate we are in the United States to have music and art as a part of our public school curriculum. Trying to create a cultural infrastructure in a country without that foundation is very difficult, but they are making progress! I was asked to play a piano solo, which, if you know me at all you would know I was stressed out to no end! Anyway, the solo went well (ie. it could've been worse), and it was great to sing and play with the choir, and even better to spend some time with the students outside of rehearsal. Hopefully I proved to some of them that I'm not as boring as I seem in rehearsal (shrug)
Here is a link to some pictures and a poorly made video from the evening:
On Saturday, my involvement with the "fledgling classical music scene" in Nairobi continued as the NCC (Nairobi Chamber Chorus) sang for a big ol' fancy wedding in town. It was a Catholic wedding (ie. long and boring) in a HUGE cathedral. There were so many wonderful musicians there. Extravagant weddings like that are always offsetting for me - such displays of exorbitant wealth always makes me a little sad. It was fun, however to spend some time with my friend Joe, visiting his flat in Rongai and walking around the city. The more time I spend off campus (outside of the context of grocery shopping...) the more I'm starting to feel comfortable here in Nairobi. This is a welcome change, and I am grateful for my friends (like Joe and Immanuel) who have provided opportunities and support to make this trasition to feeling "at home" possible.
This week, we're learning about Medium Scale Integration ICs and programmable logic devices! Sounds exciting, doesn't it! Last week I was able to write my final exam and get it submitted by the deadline (Friday), but just barely. Thats an interesting story, I will tell you if you ask me :-P
Here is a link to some pictures and a poorly made video from the evening:
 |
| A Classical Evening |
On Saturday, my involvement with the "fledgling classical music scene" in Nairobi continued as the NCC (Nairobi Chamber Chorus) sang for a big ol' fancy wedding in town. It was a Catholic wedding (ie. long and boring) in a HUGE cathedral. There were so many wonderful musicians there. Extravagant weddings like that are always offsetting for me - such displays of exorbitant wealth always makes me a little sad. It was fun, however to spend some time with my friend Joe, visiting his flat in Rongai and walking around the city. The more time I spend off campus (outside of the context of grocery shopping...) the more I'm starting to feel comfortable here in Nairobi. This is a welcome change, and I am grateful for my friends (like Joe and Immanuel) who have provided opportunities and support to make this trasition to feeling "at home" possible.
This week, we're learning about Medium Scale Integration ICs and programmable logic devices! Sounds exciting, doesn't it! Last week I was able to write my final exam and get it submitted by the deadline (Friday), but just barely. Thats an interesting story, I will tell you if you ask me :-P
Monday, October 5, 2009
Kenya Update 10/6/09 - Challenges!
For several months Allison and I have been reading through William Barclay's commentary on Matthew (okay, I guess that means we're reading Matthew too :) ) ... recently the message of the text and the commentary have been overwhelming clear and consistent with our experiences; Jesus calls us to be witnesses to God's love! I feel as if I have kind of watered down that call to evangelize during my time at ENC (even saying the word evangelize leaves a weird taste in my proverbial mouth). The text we are studying today is Matthew 10:32-33:
"I too will acknowledge before my Father everyone who acknowledges me before men. I too will deny before my Father who is in heaven everyone who denies me before men."
What a challenge, even in the "easy" circumstances I face every day - no one is threatening me or my family if I refuse to deny Christ, yet the temptation to deny the lordship of Jesus in my life is always there. In subtle ways, presenting myself as a Christian but with a disclaimer "Yes I am a Christian, but don't worry! I'm still normal, I'm still cool!" Perhaps it is an attitude born out of good intentions, not wanting to disenfranchise those who might see Christians as judgmental crazies, but I think more realistically it is born out of a self interested avoidance of being judged as crazy. Are we not crazy, living a life committed to Jesus' ideals? Living counter culturally (as Jesus taught us) is definitely crazy to most minds. yet we are not to be judgmental crazies, just Jesus people. Loving crazies, maybe - crazy about love, crazy about Jesus, crazy about showing people God's love. Perhaps that will result in us being judged, but provided our transparency is God breathed, it can only serve to bring about God's purpose. I need to stop apologizing for loving Jesus as much as I do. Or maybe, I need to stop apologizing before I love Jesus as much as I claim to love him.
Jars of Clay offers a different sort of challenge in their song entitled "Light Brings Heat". It's my understanding that several years ago they came to Kenya in efforts to start a ministry called Blood:Water Mission. This song is a reflection on that time and the complexity of working in Africa considering our western assumptions of superiority, our lack of understanding of African culture and the implications that has on being Jesus to people as an American in Kenya. Following are the final lyrics from the song, as well as the writers interpretation. The final refrain is a prayer I will embrace on a daily basis as I continue to face the challenges God is good enough to put in my life! :)
"I too will acknowledge before my Father everyone who acknowledges me before men. I too will deny before my Father who is in heaven everyone who denies me before men."
What a challenge, even in the "easy" circumstances I face every day - no one is threatening me or my family if I refuse to deny Christ, yet the temptation to deny the lordship of Jesus in my life is always there. In subtle ways, presenting myself as a Christian but with a disclaimer "Yes I am a Christian, but don't worry! I'm still normal, I'm still cool!" Perhaps it is an attitude born out of good intentions, not wanting to disenfranchise those who might see Christians as judgmental crazies, but I think more realistically it is born out of a self interested avoidance of being judged as crazy. Are we not crazy, living a life committed to Jesus' ideals? Living counter culturally (as Jesus taught us) is definitely crazy to most minds. yet we are not to be judgmental crazies, just Jesus people. Loving crazies, maybe - crazy about love, crazy about Jesus, crazy about showing people God's love. Perhaps that will result in us being judged, but provided our transparency is God breathed, it can only serve to bring about God's purpose. I need to stop apologizing for loving Jesus as much as I do. Or maybe, I need to stop apologizing before I love Jesus as much as I claim to love him.
Jars of Clay offers a different sort of challenge in their song entitled "Light Brings Heat". It's my understanding that several years ago they came to Kenya in efforts to start a ministry called Blood:Water Mission. This song is a reflection on that time and the complexity of working in Africa considering our western assumptions of superiority, our lack of understanding of African culture and the implications that has on being Jesus to people as an American in Kenya. Following are the final lyrics from the song, as well as the writers interpretation. The final refrain is a prayer I will embrace on a daily basis as I continue to face the challenges God is good enough to put in my life! :)
You treat me like I'm blind, setting fires around houses on the hill,
But light gives heat.
You segregate my mind, burning crosses from your fears, your fears,
But light gives heat.
Will you teach us how to love? To see the things you see,
Walk the road you walk, and feel the pain that you feel.
At your feet I kneel, I want to see you shine,
See your light not mine... 'cause light gives heat...
your light gives heat... gives heat.
But light gives heat.
You segregate my mind, burning crosses from your fears, your fears,
But light gives heat.
Will you teach us how to love? To see the things you see,
Walk the road you walk, and feel the pain that you feel.
At your feet I kneel, I want to see you shine,
See your light not mine... 'cause light gives heat...
your light gives heat... gives heat.
(Dan's explanation helps it make more sense!)
"This song represented being comfortable with sharing the moment we’re in about Africa. I have wrestled with the idea that we’ve been awful with the way we’re approaching Africa. Stripping them of their dignity, when that’s not the whole story. Starting the organization Blood:Water Mission served as the push into learning, trying to offer help, while giving people their dignity. Light Gives Heat is about learning a better way. It’s learning not even to approach it saying “I’m going to Africa to serve these people”. I wanted to write a song that was kind of part confessional, saying I’m sorry I am part of the problem. And the second part of the chorus is from an African perspective, which is “however you approach us, we find hope in the midst of what you offer.” That’s the picture of African dignity and African determination that is so powerful..." - Dan Haseltine (Jars Of Clay)
"This song represented being comfortable with sharing the moment we’re in about Africa. I have wrestled with the idea that we’ve been awful with the way we’re approaching Africa. Stripping them of their dignity, when that’s not the whole story. Starting the organization Blood:Water Mission served as the push into learning, trying to offer help, while giving people their dignity. Light Gives Heat is about learning a better way. It’s learning not even to approach it saying “I’m going to Africa to serve these people”. I wanted to write a song that was kind of part confessional, saying I’m sorry I am part of the problem. And the second part of the chorus is from an African perspective, which is “however you approach us, we find hope in the midst of what you offer.” That’s the picture of African dignity and African determination that is so powerful..." - Dan Haseltine (Jars Of Clay)
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Kenya Update 10/3/09 - Downpours and Djembes
It has been a most excellent weekend in Kenya. Thursday night after PR rehearsal, Immanuel spent the night at my flat. He lives in Rongai, and the rehearsal is late so he needed a place to spend the night. I am lucky enough to have an old ghetto couch in my flat, so I was more than happy to share! We had a good time. I made dinner of spaghetti and oober chunky meat sauce (which I was teased about the next day in the office - I guess spaghetti isn't considered an actual meal here...), we stayed up too late and got up too early, but it was nice to get up and have someone to tease/say good morning to.
On Friday I spent 4 solid hours shopping for groceries. Xaviour came with me to the Tusky's in Rongai to find that it was closed for 2 hours due to a power outage. Not wanting to think about what they were doing with all the meat, and considering Xaviour's prediction of what a Kenya 2 hours would look like, we decided to go 10 miles down to the road to the larger Tusky's in Langata. The primary reason for our trip was (I'm very sad to say) to buy a cellular communication device. So now I have a cell phone, which is good because my students can reach me at anytime. Also, I am establishing some semblance of independence (don't worry Mom and Allie!!!!) so it is good to have a phone in case I find myself in a dangerous/unfamiliar situation.
Today I spent the morning reading Oswald Sanders. The book is called "The Joy of Following Jesus" and its a challenging little book. Sanders points out all the ways that modern Christianity is so drastically different than a scriptural discipleship of Jesus. "To some who have been nurtured on the 'easy believism' doctrine, the radical demands of Christ may seem excessive and unreasonable." It's very easy to write off Jesus' commands and his example as excessive and unreasonable (especially in our modern context), but Sanders challenges us to take them seriously, pay the cost of discipleship and experience the fullness of following Jesus!
After lunch I went with Charles and his brother Joptha to the Masaii market in Nairobi. The quest: find a djembe and purchase said djembe free of the "mzungu discount". Me and Charles did reconnaissance, scoping out the drums around the market and finding the one that felt "right". Then we sent in Joptha with a target price. After arguing for about 90 seconds, I had the drum guy offering me 8000/- ($100) which is totally out of my price bracket. Joptha spent 30 minutes bargaining, and he walked away with the drum for 3500/-!!! A good deal for such a quality drum. Check out the merchandise:
It's a nice solid wood djembe. Granted, its a rope drum, which means I will soon be acquiring a new skill (tuning rope drums...), but it sounds great. And it has a lion carved in the bottom. Super cool.
On the way back from Nairobi it started POURING. This is such a relief for this region. It has rained on campus twice since I arrived 5 weeks ago, and never for more than 10 minutes. This downpour was so welcome, I didn't mind getting soaked on the way to dinner! I can't wait for tomorrow - I am going to try to play my drum in church (start salvaging my terrible rhythm skills...) and I seem to recall a rumor of going out for lunch with the Pitts??? Fingers crossed! God bless :-D
On Friday I spent 4 solid hours shopping for groceries. Xaviour came with me to the Tusky's in Rongai to find that it was closed for 2 hours due to a power outage. Not wanting to think about what they were doing with all the meat, and considering Xaviour's prediction of what a Kenya 2 hours would look like, we decided to go 10 miles down to the road to the larger Tusky's in Langata. The primary reason for our trip was (I'm very sad to say) to buy a cellular communication device. So now I have a cell phone, which is good because my students can reach me at anytime. Also, I am establishing some semblance of independence (don't worry Mom and Allie!!!!) so it is good to have a phone in case I find myself in a dangerous/unfamiliar situation.
Today I spent the morning reading Oswald Sanders. The book is called "The Joy of Following Jesus" and its a challenging little book. Sanders points out all the ways that modern Christianity is so drastically different than a scriptural discipleship of Jesus. "To some who have been nurtured on the 'easy believism' doctrine, the radical demands of Christ may seem excessive and unreasonable." It's very easy to write off Jesus' commands and his example as excessive and unreasonable (especially in our modern context), but Sanders challenges us to take them seriously, pay the cost of discipleship and experience the fullness of following Jesus!
After lunch I went with Charles and his brother Joptha to the Masaii market in Nairobi. The quest: find a djembe and purchase said djembe free of the "mzungu discount". Me and Charles did reconnaissance, scoping out the drums around the market and finding the one that felt "right". Then we sent in Joptha with a target price. After arguing for about 90 seconds, I had the drum guy offering me 8000/- ($100) which is totally out of my price bracket. Joptha spent 30 minutes bargaining, and he walked away with the drum for 3500/-!!! A good deal for such a quality drum. Check out the merchandise:
It's a nice solid wood djembe. Granted, its a rope drum, which means I will soon be acquiring a new skill (tuning rope drums...), but it sounds great. And it has a lion carved in the bottom. Super cool.On the way back from Nairobi it started POURING. This is such a relief for this region. It has rained on campus twice since I arrived 5 weeks ago, and never for more than 10 minutes. This downpour was so welcome, I didn't mind getting soaked on the way to dinner! I can't wait for tomorrow - I am going to try to play my drum in church (start salvaging my terrible rhythm skills...) and I seem to recall a rumor of going out for lunch with the Pitts??? Fingers crossed! God bless :-D
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