"I am Doing a New Thing..."

He told them this parable: “No one tears a piece out of a new garment to patch an old one. Otherwise, they will have torn the new garment, and the patch from the new will not match the old. And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the new wine will burst the skins; the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. No, new wine must be poured into new wineskins. And no one after drinking old wine wants the new, for they say, ‘The old is better.’” Luke 5:36-39

Newport. New car smell. New York. New tomatoes. Newsweek. New-to-you. New Mexico. Newfoundland. New and updated. New baby. New England. New life. New Jersey. New edition. New Era. New moon. Newegg.com. New Seasons. New horizons. New look. New shoes. New toys. Newspaper. New Year.

The title of this blog comes from a series of musical creations written and performed by my friends David King and Jeff Lowery, written from the perspective of God to the world. There are lots of opportunities to explore something new in our lives. The biggest new joy for Mira and I is the expectation of a new little one in our life. And we may be old-fashioned (or “new fashioned” as the case may be), but we are especially excited to discover the gender of the baby after the baby is born. This excitement will accompany the new breath, new movement, new words, new everything for this child and for us as his/her parents. Another thing that I have personally experienced as joy in anticipation of the new baby is the procurement of a new video camera and editing software for the computer. A first fruit of which is displayed on an earlier post of the blog titled “Finding Joy”, which was a source of discussion at our monthly “Supper” gathering. I am looking forward to the new opportunities to create visually stimulating moving images for people who want to engage in them (especially of the new little one!).

New things and new experiences and new people are exciting to us. Yet one of the challenges for leadership in the church is not that we have to come up with new and more fascinating stories to tell, but, the foundation of our faith is the telling and re-telling of an old story, despite the fact that its called the good “news”. Coming up with a newer, more compelling story is a challenge: that's what creative writers do. But its not the church's challenge. Our story is not a new one; in fact it is part of an ancient narrative that extends back thousands of years. There is a lot of chronological and cultural distance between our lives and the lives of our ancestors in faith. Disconnection from the old story from the new world is not just a possibility, but a reality. Our daily lives and world differ significantly from those who lived in the ancient Middle East. But when the old story becomes nothing more than ancient history, it begins to make no more sense to our current setting than any standard piece of fiction. Truthfully, if the old story didn't matter to me, then I wouldn't waste my time with it, either.

But the old story does matter to me. And I think a big part of why it matters to me is that over the course of my life, gifted and talented people have been able retell the old story in ways that make it come alive. And this is why I appreciate attempts to tell the old story in new contexts so much (such as film and new media). The people who tell them don't run fearfully from the challenge of cross-cultural wrestling matches. Nor do they try to force people of a new generation into a method of story-telling that doesn't fit this culture or this era anymore. Recently I saw a retelling of the birth of Jesus from Joseph's perspective, as if he was able to be on Facebook when it happened. Through status updates, profile picture updates, and with an attention-grabbing soundtrack, I was guided through the story in a compelling way that I could relate to, as a frequent user of Facebook. In fact, I was shown this video via the status update of a member of the Cornelius church.

Two questions stick out as I recall this event to you. First, I was already familiar with the old story. If I didn't know about Mary and Joseph's relationship, and the miraculous birth, would I have been able to follow? Secondly, if I was unfamiliar with how Facebook status updates worked, would the retelling of the old story worked? This particular new way of presenting the old story gripped me and many others online because it engaged completely our world. The bottom line is that it doesn't appeal to everyone, nor should it. But that doesn't mean it shouldn't have been done.

In the new year, the challenge that I face as a pastor is to evaluate how I have been telling that old story, exploring my strengths and weaknesses. Is my story-telling compelling to anyone? Do we find ourselves in the grips of the story because we identify so completely with the experience? Or are you and I going through the motions of hearing an old story that is no longer gripping to us, that has little or no effect on our daily lives? I am aiming to be gripped in a new way because that's what has moved and will move me anew into the old story. I look forward to where this exploration takes us all!

Finding Joy

Here is a video that Ricardo Umana and I made just before he left for Anaheim last week Sad for us but happy for him). What was most interesting to me was what wasn't said in the video. For many, the pain of the question, "Where do you find joy?" was too deep to consider answering us. One woman said that she had no idea what we were talking about, having just lost her father, and quickly left as her eyes were welling up with tears. It is amazing to me that this surface-level set of questions could bring out such emotions in people, and a reminder that depth-seeking conversations help us to deal better with whatever comes our way.

I really appreciate all the folks who were willing to wrestle with Joy during this crazy time of year.

Advent considerations...

Ah, summer is just about to begin… wait, that was last week, er, month… almost half a year ago! I cannot believe how quickly time seems to be going by. We are already nearing the holiday push in our culture and in our communities. The local Starbucks has had the Christmas stuff in boxes, blocking the bathrooms for weeks now, just ready to pounce on the walls when the customers aren’t looking!

As we enter into the Advent season, I am prayerful that instead of stories about parents getting trampled at the local shopping mall to get the latest 3D Camcorder/cell phone/nose-hair-trimmer before anyone else does, that we see stories of struggling and affluent people alike, coming together and finally sharing food, housing, and other resources with one another. I also pray that Advent can be a reminder of the wonderful gift of life that Jesus represents for all of us, and that we truly celebrate by being life-givers ourselves.

If the Christmas season has become a stressful time of lying awake wondering how you are going to be able to pay off the gift bills, I invite you to let that go. I guarantee that your friends and family do not want the gifts you buy them to put you into a three month slide to your creditors. If they do (again, read my “guarantee” line), then maybe you need to have a chat with them about how Christ came into the world to a poor nomadic family and that he never dreamed that the term “black Friday” would have anything to do with sales happening for those wishing to buy cheap stuff in “honor” of him. Honoring Christ does not mean giving Visa and Mastercard a bonus. Consider spending the time you would have spent shopping for someone, just taking them out for a walk or a cup of coffee. Invite them over to your house. Give them your loving presence. But if you really want to honor Christ and give gifts, I suggest these ideas:

• Hand make something. Places like Art on a Lark in Hillsboro are great if you don’t have the materials, but still want to craft something inexpensively.

• Give the gift of a hard-working farm animal in the name of the family via a wonderful organization like Heifer International.

• For the children, consider getting gifts that are crafted by people who are fairly compensated for their work and where the work is sustainable for the earth. If we buy toys that are well made and if we buy fewer of them, as opposed to buying many, many cheaply-made toys then we are giving on multiple levels. We save the landfills from another piece of plastic; we give a gift that may get passed on to another generation, and we support good labor practices. Places 10,000 Villages in Portland, One Fair World in Salem or even Whole Foods and New Seasons are good places to find toys made in this manner.

• Consider making a donation in honor of a favorite charitable organization. Each year my family donates $50 per person into a pot, and one person is designated the authorizer of the contribution. Mira was the person last year and we donated $300 to an organization called “Witness for Peace,” an educational group that shows groups of people the root causes of migration from Central America and Mexico to the United States. Or perhaps its your church.

Can we grow up?

I will try not to link to other posts as the primary way of communicating, but as I read this I admit that I welled up a little bit. The shame that adults can inflict on children is shameful in itself.

I am reminded of the amount of time it took me to work through being singled out and ridiculed on several occasions by my second grade teacher for not living up to my "gifted and talented" status. I then spent the rest of my school years and much of my adult life believing that I wasn't good enough. Because she was the adult and should have known better.

I hope that we can read the plea of this mom and take it seriously. Our kids need us to grow up.

http://nerdyapplebottom.com/2010/11/02/my-son-is-gay/

Leadership in a New Era

We can't deny the shift that has been happening in our world over the last two decades or so. It is beyond just being technological, or political, or economical, although these are all ripples in the tidal wave that is this era of postmodernism. I won't waste your time by explaining that term to you if you don't know it, but if you wish, you can go here (simple) or here (more complex) or here (audio discussion) to read/hear more background. In a nutshell, the new era moves away from large faceless and ethics-less corporations and institutions, away from authority figures that tell us what to think or feel, away from static ways of being. We move into an era of constant deconstructing revision, social momentum that moves organically from the bottom-up, and an acknowledgment that there is no right way of interpreting anything (although that is up for debate!).

The change is evident, but it is not instant. We are in this awkward intersection of old modern ways of being with post-modern ways of being. Kind of like turning left at a light that is about to change from yellow to red, but wondering with fear if that mack truck heading your direction is racing to beat the light, or simply slowing to a stop. Our modern institutions which thrived under the old way (General Motors, any mainline denominational church, the stock market) struggle to recognize, first of all, that this is happening, and then struggle to radically be transformed. I use radical transformation to mean being transformed to the roots (think "radish," comes from Latin "radix"). I make this distinction because sometimes there are transformations that occur, but they are superficial. The changes that occur in superficial transformation seek to do so in order to maintain the control, power, and structures that are definitive of the modern era. Superficiality in transformation amounts to a change in a company's name, or a new product or service that is to appeal to a new line of consumers, or a new way of disseminating the same old information.

Successful modern leaders are ambitious and aggressive with sights set on bottom line figures for growth--and their subordinates are accountable to these figures and little else. Leadership in the new era requires not leading people to a better way of doing an old thing, or attempting to attract people as a desperate grab for more power/money/resources. I believe leadership in the postmodern era requires submission*. A positive interpretation of the word "Submission" can mean to voluntarily lower one's self, which is difficult for leaders of the modern era, or those schooled in it, to do. Lowering of one's self means more than being seen with those who come from low places, like a politician begging cameras to follow him to the bar where miners drink for a half hour photo op. It means being sent (missio, -mission, to be sent) lower (sub-). The mission is to be lower, not to appear to be lower. Leaders of the new era submit themselves fully to the new way of being, that is, moving to the ground level, acknowledging that they do not have the answers. Postmodern leaders seek gifts in others, not to be exploited for the bottom line, but so that they can enter into honest relationship. I believe that the post-modern way of being will be centered on relationship-building, not institution building.

But what about those of us who are called to revive institutions that function according to modern rules (structure, hierarchy, protocol) into postmodern vibrancy and thriving? Can it happen at all? After all, one of the tenets of postmodernism is deconstruction of firmly constructed norms. I believe that those who are willing to lead shrinking institutions to postmodern thriving by deconstructing the existing institution are courageous risk takers who aren't afraid to offend (particularly in institutions that are made of people who are stuck in modernity) or to fail. Those who try to lead shrinking institutions to vibrancy by the superficial methods described above, are simply putting a happy face on the eventual death of the institution. I don't know which one I am--but I know who I want to be. The good news for procrastinators is that, since the world is still in that awkward intersection between modern and postmodern, modern institutions may be able to survive for a few more decades!

Honestly, new, organic creations that exist outside of the intersection have work to do, but have far less deconstruction work to do. For example, in a new church plant in Chicago, the focus of leadership for development didn't revolve around the question of "How do we create a worship environment that will attract a whole bunch of people?" The leadership spent over a year building relationships with new people, and even after the "launch" of the church (after about a year and three months), the focus has always been about creating and deepening authentic relationship (note the lack of the word "maintaining")- and since this has been the focus from the beginning, the number of those who acknowledge a seeking after something different flock to new relationships here. Worship then flows organically from the relationships already formed.

Authentic, down and dirty leadership surrounds itself with authentic, down, and dirty people. The postmodern way of being is authentic, down, and dirty, emerging from the rubble left by the end-products of modernity (e.g., both capitalism and communism, mind you).

"Authentic, down, and dirty" sound familiar? Aside from "authentic" being a buzzword for postmodernism, Jesus was about as authentic, down, and dirty, as they came. And folks in the newest generations who are familiar with the guy, love Jesus. But they are, for the most part, "disenchanted" with the church - and really, all forms of institutional discourse that have traditionally separated Me from You, Us from Them, Clean from Dirty. The newest generation is the first to live in a world that is tilting fully toward the postmodern way of being, as opposed to just being lectured about its coming (even if hardly anyone can name it).

The postmodern church needs leaders who embody submission, releasing ourselves from stories of the way things ought to have been, and engage with people, no longer asking folks to come to this place to fill the empty hole that only church can fill, and, incidentally, fill the empty holes that remain in our seats/pews and our institutional budgets. Instead, they seek first to build relationships that are not consumer-based, but giver-receiver-based, receiver-giver-based, and ultimately based in authentic, down, and dirty relationships.

*Submission is a word that carries much baggage with it: abuse of this word has led to the abuse of people. I hope that we can set aside notions of submission that are forced upon anyone because of their gender, race, nationality, ability, or orientation.

Coaching...

This past Saturday there was a Western District United Methodist event at a Salem church (Trinity). It was called "Take Two," calling to mind the advice we were given by Adam Hamilton at Annual Conference. He said that if we feel overwhelmed with all the information we have been given over the day, that we should just "take two" ideas home with us to try out. So, Saturday's event offered three foci, two of which we could attend and try out. I chose "empowering the laity" and "the coaching relationship." I appreciated both, and some of the concepts in the laity workshop are particularly helpful in my context of pastoring two churches.

Right now, I want to talk about the value of coaching. I have been in a coaching relationship for just under a year now with two different coaches. My first was Dan Glover, who is an ordained elder in the United Methodist Church from Ohio, who, along with Claudia Lavy, heads up "Deepening Your Effectiveness." DYE is a consulting and coaching firm which is based on a model for developing a discipleship pathway for the local church. My second coach has been Gwen Drake, who is the pastor of the Hillsboro UMC just down the road from Cornelius, who is training as a life coach through the Coaches Training Institute.


Coaching is all the rage now isn't it? It certainly has gained a lot steam in the church over the past decade. And while it seems like a new fad, or the "latest and greatest" in leadership techniques, it really isn't a new concept at all. Though the term has been more widely used lately, there seems to be some confusion about what coaches actually do, which is both surprising and understandable. That is exactly why an athletic analogy is appropriate (while we don't all like sports, we all get sports). Who is the greatest player in the game of golf? Despite his problems of late, probably Tiger Woods still. But even Tiger has a coach. Do you know who that is? Probably not. His name is Sean Foley (incidentally, the third coach in his career after Butch Harmon and Hank Haney). Is Sean Foley a better golfer than Tiger Woods? No, because Sean would then be the best golfer in the world. He's not the best golfer in the world, although I imagine he's pretty decent. But being a coach is not about being better or worse. In addition to being a decent golfer in his own right, Sean is simply someone who is gifted at seeing what is going on with another golfer's swing and helping the golfer to achieve his or her goals. Tiger could be still be a darn good golfer without a coach. He is naturally good enough that he might even be a top twenty golfer in the world. But utilizing his talent, lots of practice, and the outsider perspective of the coach, he has become the number one.

In athletics, there is always room for improvement no matter how talented and/or knowledgeable one is. Consider that little leaguers, major leaguers, and everyone-in-between have coaches. So, if Tiger, who is quite literally at the top of his game, uses a coach to improve by fine-tuning his already-amazing swing, then someone like me, who still has soooooo much to learn about ministry and leadership, and quite frankly, life, could make leaps and bounds of progress toward my goals with a coach helping me to use what is already present within me.


For athletes, musicians, and actors the goals are pretty straightforward. To achieve at the highest level one possibly can in order to win the game or give a mesmerizing performance. Those of us who don't have such immediately identifiable goals in our professional fields may not even realize that we have goals, nonetheless. And when we don't have goals or can't name our goals, we may find ourselves feeling stuck or directionless, meandering through our lives, or busying ourselves with activities that we know are not in line with what is important to us. Coaches can help us to name what is important to us. And when we can name the important things in our lives, goals seem to flow naturally out of us, like springs of refreshing water. This is the beginning of the coaching relationship. And once we can name our goals, which is powerful in itself, then coaches help us to remain focused, and help us to acknowledge when there are roadblocks or personal breakdowns that get in the way of us achieving those goals.


If you find yourself stuck, spinning your wheels and going nowhere fast, or if you know that you've got loads of potential to work toward your goals, then I encourage you to find a coach you know you can trust. I believe that you will be surprised what you will find that already exists within you.

Regarding Age and Race...

My friend Matt posted this information on the Northern Illinois Conference's e-mail newsletter:

Hard figures on UMC diversity and age

New research from the Lewis Center on Church Leadership reveals two facts about the UMC that have been part of the church's struggle for many years.

1) The median age of clergy continues to rise very quickly: More than half of elders are age 55 or older. In 2000, the midway point was age 50, and in 1973, the median was 43.

2) In a nation where racial diversity is increasing, the membership of the UMC is becoming even more white: 90% in 2008, up from 87% in 1998. During that time, according to 2009 Census Bureau figures, non-Hispanic whites decreased from 69% to 65% of the U.S. population.

What does this mean for our church?

For me the bottom line is that we have the opportunity to live as if the gospel means something in our lives. And I'm not talking about "waiting for the rapture."

Rarely should we come to church to take refuge from the world. Certainly there are instances like community, familial, or personal tragedy that call for refuge-taking. But I believe we come with regularity to be refilled with the active acknowledgement of God's loving presence (through praise and prayer) and to rehearse how we live toward our neighbors and friends and enemies outside of the walls (by exchanging signs of love and commitment).

In the Yamhill and Cornelius churches we say "I see Christ in you," which, like anything we do on a regular basis has the potential to do two things. First it could end up sounding like - and having as much meaning as - the "good game" chorus line that occurs at the end of a little league baseball game. But if we do it with regular intentionality, then it is a beautiful acknowledgement of a divine spark that exists in each one of us.

For the last decades, the Church has focused on seeing Christ as "in the building" and not "out there." And so we have maintained the facilities and programs that fulfill the wants and needs of only existing membership or long-time attenders (or worse, big-money-givers), often reflecting the wants and needs of those folks when they themselves were much younger. The result is a "time machine" kind of effect where one could step inside a church and see a model of church the way it was in the 50's-70's without the vitality that existed then, and certainly without the cultural diversity that exists in our world today.

What this has to do with age and race is this: When we say "I see Christ in you" to the people with whom we worship regularly, we reaffirm that we are creating a hospitable environment together and that we are creating it for one another. We have the opportunity to take that same mantra outside of church, internally echoing "I see Christ in you" to our agnostic young co-worker, to the Guatemalan family who lives across the street, to the impoverished veteran who asks you for money, to the politician whose policies you wish you could change. When we take the next step and see Christ in our neighbors friends and enemies, we are therefore committed to creating a hospitable environment with them and for all of us.

I am reminded of the story of the Yamhill Christian Church. A few years back, the leadership of that church acknowledged that they were not effectively serving their community. The symptoms were similar to those of many mainline denominations: aging and declining membership and decreased vitality in worship and outreach. The senior pastor cast a new vision of being a church for youth and young families. The board of that church took on the vision and decided that the resources of the church should not be tied up both in facility and property maintenance and paying a full-time senior pastor who they could not afford much longer anyway. The senior pastor voluntarily moved to half-time, taking responsibility for pastoral care and administrative guidance. The church took the bold step of loosening up their resources and hired a full time associate pastor whose entire focus would be on youth ministry and worship leadership. They put it all on the line. And here's the kicker. The leadership told the newly hired pastor this: "Don't create worship and programs for us; don't listen to us when we say that the music is too loud or too fast. If what you do brings the growing population of young families and youth to a relationship with Christ, then this church will be fulfilling its vision." And that's exactly what has happened in that church.

I don't tell this story to be prescriptive. Instead, I tell it to illustrate the kind of gutsy risk taking that is required for churches to not only see Christ in its community but to make space for Christ. Truly this is living the gospel as if it were real.

On Sunday, we will be reading the story of Lazarus and the rich man. The rich man lived next to Lazarus for the entirety of their lives, and for that span, he failed to acknowledge Lazarus' presence, choosing instead to wall himself in his mansion. For me, this isn't a story primarily about rich vs. poor, but about being present to neighbors. Even in death, the rich man only wanted Lazarus to serve him, insisting on a one-way relationship that met only his and his family's needs. The wall he had built around himself in life, "protecting" him from his neighbors, stayed with him through eternity. Although its not a story about damnation, the rich man was actually surprised at the life of isolation he had created for himself. When we insist on protecting ourselves from loud, upbeat music; from ideas that challenge our faith; from having to "sit through" a service that is bilingual; from real life problems like poverty, war, food sovereignty, and addictions that intrude our sense of an artificial guaranteed safety; we don't risk anything but walling ourselves outside of the work to which Christ committed his life.

We are invited, instead, to a life of radical companionship that intentionally crosses the lines we have drawn between us. What we risk losing in the process - and we hopefully risk losing everything - is so much worth the reward. When the church and its leadership can do this, I believe that it will reap the rewards of vibrant worship, formational education, transformational outreach, and authentic multi -generational/-ethnic/-cultural community. It takes visionary leadership who are willing to put it all on the line. I pray my colleagues and I are prepared.

Fall Back?

"Come with me. I'll make a new kind of fisherman out of you. I'll show you how to catch men and women instead of perch and bass." They didn't ask questions, but simply dropped their nets and followed." Matthew 4:19 The Message Translation

We aren't about to change the clocks anytime soon, but I have noticed how much earlier the sun seems to be setting than in the summer. Inevitably, I get wistful about the days when the sun didn't seem to set until after we went to bed. "Ah, summer where did you go - and in such a hurry?!" In fact clock-changing doesn't happen until the first Sunday in November, when we will be full-on into fall and harvest mode. But as school has begun and as we enter into a new phase of the church season, we get the sense that we are "falling back" into the rhythm of the year. This can be a good thing. But it can be dangerous, too.

I have to be careful that I don't fall back into habits that move me, my family, or my church in a direction that is unhealthy or irresponsible. This has nothing to do with taking risks, but in fact is quite the opposite. For me, my temptation is not to fall back into the things that guide me, that offer inspiration and hope, and that offer accountability and encouragement; but to fall back into procrastination, avoidance of responsibility, idling the time away, and restricting my "people time"to the ones I already know. These things don't define me--it's just what I have chosen to do when things get busy or unknown. In a sense, I fall back to bad habits, easier tasks, and things that I know. I pray that God will use what's already present within me to do something new and to reach new people in a new way. Notice, in the scripture where Jesus calls the fisherman, that he doesn't say to stop being fisherman. He says that he's going to use those skills already present in them to become fishers of people - that is, to engage more people than they currently were.

For the church, we have to be careful as a group that we collectively fall back into the challenge and considerations for the outsider that Jesus called his disciples toward, and not fall back into what is easiest for us or what is known to us. Otherwise we can no longer be called the church, but we become a social club for people who happen to believe in God. For instance, we always say that we want more young people to come to our worship services, but what are we providing for young people that they would want to step foot into our church on Sundays? Are we creating a worship space that is directed toward speaking the gospel in a way that captivates their attention? Or are we creating a space that is aimed at what those already attending prefer? Or are we even just creating a space out of habit? I am thankful to God for Cornelius expanding their vision through the monthly Community Table food pantry and Supper programs, and that Yamhill has opened up their vision for hospitality in the community, and that both Cornelius and Yamhill are beginning Sunday Schools this year. But I am certain that God is calling us to fall back into the challenge that expands our vision of who our neighbors are, and what we can do, as communities of faith, to be more fully present to our neighbors.

Where is God calling these bodies of Christians to use what's already present within us to engage with people who haven't been sought after yet? Who are those on the fringe always looking in? What else do we have to learn about Christ that moves our community out into our communities? Let us be grounded, falling back in to the challenge of Christ- but let us also recognize where we have chained ourselves, having fallen back into habitual thinking.

Time to Sow

The work of concentrated study and reflection is not for the faint of brain. I am currently at a lectionary-based sermon development retreat called “Time to Sow” at the Alton L. Collins Retreat center in Eagle Creek, Oregon with 12 other United Methodist pastors. Over the past day (and, beginning at 1:30 - for the next hour or so) we have been reading through the gospel text for each week in the year and writing our personal reflections of what happened in them. Then, after a particular season, we have a group discussion about patterns that we saw, problems that arise in us, ways to connect the gospel story to what's happening in our churches, among a myriad of other conversations. All present are having the experience of having our minds swimming (drowning?) in story by this point.

My hope is not that we will have all our sermons written and prepared by the end of the week (we adjourn on Friday). Instead, the hope is that, by the end of the week we will have a road map with a pretty clear idea of what text we will be preaching on, possible sermon series that reveal themselves through all the readings in scripture, and ideas for making the seasons a more connecting moment for people with their God and their place in God's kingdom.

The Lord knows that I am not always the most organized person. In fact, “most-organized” is an award I have never won, and there remain a very few solid and proud moments in my life when I was so organized that I arrived with little to tie together in terms of preparation. When that did happen, it kind of threw me off-guard. I admit that I feel more comfortable in the chaos. Which has its strengths, too. I tend not to get frazzled, for one thing, when, in the words of Rev. Wright, “the feces hit the quickly-rotating metal blades.” However, living in the chaos prevents me from walking the pathway that I know is set before our churches – by whom I am called to be “leader.”

This week is a way for us to see the scripture in contexts of other scripture, the history, our churches, and the year. AND, for some of us, to be malleable enough to let the Spirit mold us into a more complete image of leader.

Where were you...

We play the "where were you..." game with significant events in our lives.

• I was at my friend Tim's house on a snow day from school (2nd grade) when the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded, witnessing the event on live TV;
• I was at a friend's house dance party when I experienced my first kiss in middle school;
• (non sports fans can skip this one!) I was at Dottie and John's place in Evanston in 1984 when the Chicago Cubs blew a 2 games to nothing lead and a 3-0 lead in the final game of that best-of-5 series that would have allowed them to go to the World Series (a similar scenario repeated in 2003).
• I was at my aunt and uncle's house in Harlan, Iowa on my way to seminary when the events on September 11, 2001 unfolded.

The "where were you..." game is possible because all the events of that day were so world-changing for us as individuals that every detail, including who we were with, what we were wearing, what we ate, what we did, is etched into our long term memory. When we say, "we will never forget" regarding those events from nine years ago, it is a given--the magnitude of what happened means that we can't forget even if we wanted to.

There are two things that I consider with special attention on this day.

First, there are places in our world where violence is a relatively normal occurrence. Ask someone from the Sudan or from Afghanistan "Where were you when your country was ravaged by war?" would be a recounting of their daily lives for the past seven and 32 years, respectively. Not that we should discount the events of this day by any stretch, but that we should be cognizant of those for whom this kind of destruction within their borders is all too commonplace.

The second consideration is this. Tomorrow I will be talking at church about how Jeremiah warns of endless cycles of disaster after disaster and that Jesus calls us to be "cycle breakers." The wake of the Sept 11, 2001 seems to have brought with it a seemingly endless cycle of violence in our world. However, those events were themselves a part of a cycle of violence that is preceeded as far back as we can collectively remember; marked both by countless "where were you..." moments and behind-the-scenes economic violence that can hardly be remembered by anyone. The leaders of our world have fooled themselves into believing we can "war ourselves into peace." But the truly sad part is that too often, people of faith, particularly a Christian faith that has its foundations on the radical compassion and forgiveness of Christ himself, are complacent to forget those foundations. Or worse, we re-mold our foundations to fit into the continuation of violence.

My prayer is this: that I could look back on a particular yet-to-happen moment in the life of the collective church as one of these "where were you..." moments--the moment when people of faith collectively remembered whose we are; that we will have collectively loved ourselves enough to see that God can work even through our broken selves; and we collectively will have loved our neighbors, no matter what they had done, who are worthy of radical forgiveness and compassion. There is nothing impossible about this. We can be cycle breakers. But only if we are bold enough to remember.

Welcome to the Century!

It is odd that, for someone who seems to have embraced so much of what technology has to offer, I have not, to this point, jumped headfirst into all the communications methods that our world has to offer. Really, it is time. Many are familiar with our family blog, which Mira wonderfully maintains, called "Life of Miric" and her ministry blog called, "Historias de Transformacion," which details and documents her work in developing multicultural relationships in Western Washington County. She has inspired me to get on board fully with this thing called the "World Wide Web."

My long time family nickname is Goose, hence the cute name.

The purpose of my blog is to be a conversation starter--to provide food for thought regarding various theological, social, moral, and political issues of our day. Perhaps you will agree with my opinions - perhaps you won't! Much as I would sometimes like to believe otherwise, my opinions do not define me, nor do I believe that yours define you. So, my hope is that you will feel free to share your own views and reflections in the comments, which will be monitored and approved by me, as it is my blog. This is to ensure a level of appropriateness, as I aim to make this site available to all ages. Much of my sharing will be observational in nature, but occasionally, I will dive into deeper subjects, so fasten those seatbelts! By the way, while I am a married United Methodist Pastor, my opinions don't necessarily reflect the opinions of the Cornelius or Yamhill United Methodist Churches, of the United Methodist Church, of Mira, or of my extended family.