MLK & Character

As a (somewhat) middle-class white male, I don't have much right to speak about Dr. Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., on the day our nation has set aside to honor his legacy. Other people's lives have been impacted far more than mine by his life. Still, without his work and the efforts of countless others, my life would be different. I wouldn't be living in the neighborhood I do surrounded by Hmong, Latino, Sudanese, and African American families. I would be able to work in the school I work at nor have some of the friends I do. Neither would my children. I wouldn't have some of the family members that I have.

His is a wonderful legacy. Of course, it's not finished yet. His quote from the March on Washington is as true today as it was then: "Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children." Injustice still exists. Poverty still exists. Racism hasn't been eradicated.

That's why today is important. It's a reminder that there's still work to be done. I don't believe that the "unalienable rights" of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness have been granted to all people in this nation.

And if we're going to get to the point of fulfilling King's dream that his children will be judged by the content of their character rather than the color of their skin, then we've got a lot of work to do. Not just on the racism end of things, but on the character end as well. That's an area we all need to work on--a look at the evening news makes that evident. A walk through a school yard makes that evident. Waiting in a checkout lane makes that evident.

Character won't develop on its own. It takes community.

We were talking with friends who were over for our house recently about how times are different for our children than they were for us. We had the freedom of wandering through the city on our own at their age (well, I didn't since I lived on a farm, but I still knew freedoms that my children don't). That freedom existed in part because of community. Our neighbors knew us. Even if they didn't know us, they would correct us if we were doing something wrong. There was accountability.

We still need that. Single moms need other adults to show their children character. Two-parent homes need their neighbors to teach their children how to behave when they're out in the community. How to treat elders with respect. How to be honest. How to care for each other. How to fight for the oppressed. How to have fun. How to love. How to stand up against what is wrong and for what is right.

Martin Luther King knew this. "Beloved Community" was core to his work. That's why marches and boycotts were so important. They required community. And through community could come change.

Friday Night Lights

As we drove across the border into Iowa on our trip back from Minnesota to my family's farm on Friday night, the sun began to dip below the horizon. Cornfields became more amber-colored. Pinks, purples, oranges, and reds lit up the clouds. A deer halted alongside the road as it stepped out of a cornfield. Dusk on the prairie lands.

It was too dark to for my children to read or draw (though they still would have tried), and the boys knew they'd want a little time with FarFar and FarMor (Grandpa and Grandma) before going to bed so we decided it would be best to try and rest a little in the last leg of the drive. Nils requested classical music instead of the book on CD we had been listening to.

I scanned the local radio stations. Several times. No classical music was available. We did hear at least twenty different high school football games. Honestly. Twenty.

There is one, maybe two, larger high schools in northwest Iowa, but no major metro areas. These are mainly small-town schools (or what has emerged from consolidations). And football is what the radio stations air on a Friday night. 

Part of the surprise of this is that there are people not at the football game that would be listening to it on the radio. There were no towns anywhere but at the high school football field in the few towns we drove through where a game was occuring.

The football games are not simply popular because there's nothing else to do (indeed, there may be nothing else to do because the football games are so popular), but because that is what you do in a small town. You support each other. Especially the youth. 

I grew up on a farm outside a town of less than a thousand people. The other town in our school district was home to a few hundred at best. But on Friday night, the bleachers were packed no matter how cold it got. 

In the winter, the bleachers in the gym were full. I remmeber taking the court during the basketball game and seeing almost the entire town there cheering us on with fanaticism. 

I'm not going to try and paint a rosy picture where everyone stayed out of trouble because of that. But I do think it mattered. I don't think one person in the school wasn't aware that there was an entire community out there that supported them in whatever they did. Music concerts, school plays, homecoming parades, even magazine sales. 

Those who were able to find work and stick around have become a part of that. Some of us left for big cities or big adventures. Some had to leave in order to find gainful employment. But even now there are those in the community who still support us and cheer us on in our endeavors. 

Call it nostalgia if you want, but those Friday night lights are at the heart of small town living for me. I didn't play football, but I was there for every home game (I was in the marching band). I didn't see a lot of time on the basketball court, but I knew that the fans were cheering just as loudly for me as they were for my friends who were tall and skillful enough to be good. 

I was excited to hear all those games on the radio. I didn't know any of the players' names. Even some of the school names are unfamiliar to me now. It may be that none of them go on to play any sort of professional football. But it doesn't matter who wins or looses, or how good the teams are. The radio stations are still broadcasting from tiny little press boxes perched above the bleachers because what happens on a Friday night matters to that community where the bright lights are shining down on 100 yards of turf. 

And what happens matters to them because they know that supporting those kids matters for the future. For those students' futures. For the community's future. 

What I Learned from Praying with the Monks

This weekend is my third visit to a monastery. We are here for our men's retreat from church. We gather together in their guest house on our own, leading our own discussions, gathering in prayer, etc. But we also walk over to the Abbey Church and join the monks for their daily prayers: 7 am, 11:30am, 5pm, and 7pm. We don't have to; it's optional. But I've come to appreciate the richness and depth of time with God available in those monastic gatherings.

It is an unusual place for an Evangelical to be found. We tend to shy away from the Catholic traditions. Often we've been taught that they just aren't "Christian." They're almost cult-like or heretical at best. But I've found that most of the traditions are almost as old as Christ Himself (at least the incarnational Christ). Some of the practices date back to ancient Judaism which birthed the Christian church. There are plenty of things that the larger Protestant church as a whole needs to reclaim that we missed out on when we separated ourselves from the first 1600 years of Christian history.

A monastery is an unusual place for most Evangelicals to go it seems. But I am enriched by my time here. As we joined in prayer times with the monks I became aware of the things I was learning from them:

Reverence for Christ. As we enter the choir stalls, as we leave the choir stalls, whenever we pray the Gloria Patri, anytime you sing a verse that praises the Trinity you bow. Anytime a monk approaches the altar, they bow. Of course, some people just do it because they're supposed to. But if you keep before you the Lordship of Christ, the act of bowing is a humbling, worshipful act of acknowledgment of who Jesus is.

The Centrality of the Cross. For whose who follow Jesus, the cross was a turning point in history. It changed everything. I don't know if I'll ever understand churches that avoid using symbols of the cross in worship spaces. When the monks gather to pray, the cross is at the center (hanging above the altar at St. John's). Several times during prayers they make the sign of the cross over themselves. I admit to not being comfortable doing it for most of my life. I grew up with the impression that it wasn't a ritual fitting for Evangelical Christians. We couldn't be further from the truth. Marking myself with the cross reminds me that I have submitted myself to Christ. I have died. It is no longer me who lives, but Christ who lives in me.

All Scripture Matters. In many churches, we tend to avoid the parts of Scripture that aren't pleasant to read. There are many Psalms that deal with anger, vengeance, sorrow, bitterness, doubt, and other emotions we don't like to talk with. The monks hear every Psalm several times each year.

The Need to Slow Down. It took me a while to get used to the rhythm of reading the first time I visited a monastery and prayed with the sisters. The Psalms and other readings are laid out line by line--not sentence by sentence. And after each line there is a short pause. Very short. But noticeable. And not natural. It forces you to slow down and focus.

Silence is Golden. It is in being silent that we can hear God and hear ourselves. We don't take those opportunities to be silent enough. When I get in the car, I like to turn on the radio. When I'm alone I distract myself with the computer, television, or phone. We miss moments to hear God and hear ourselves. These happen for the monks each time they gather in prayer.

Everyone has a Voice. Each side of the choir where the monks gather takes a turn reading at times in the Psalms. Our side reads. Then we sit and listen to the other side chant. Scripture is participatory.

Worship Works Best in Community. We cannot worship God alone the same way we can in community. That is not to say we should not worship Him by ourselves. We should. Be we need the deep intimacy of a community that knows, understands, accepts, and forgives you.

Ritual has Meaning. We all know plenty examples of places where ritual has replaced worship--where the tradition has to be done for the sake of being done. Ritual done meaningfully, however, takes the participant before God--even if they are unable to get there on their own. We all have times when our emotions, circumstances, or other outside forces block us from wanting, or even being able to, come to God in worship. Meaningful ritual is able to take us before Him in those times--again, when we do it in community. Ritual has the negative connotation of just going through the motions. This isn't all bad (as long as there are times you enter into it purposefully). Sometimes we need the repetition of the motions to help us enter into holy spaces when we're feeling unholy. And when we are able to purposefully enter into good rituals, they help to connect us more deeply to God, as long as we are able to focus on the reason for the ritual itself and not just the act.

The Importance of Living Well. One of the monks came and talked to our group this morning about the journey of faith and life; we were able to ask questions. It's a blessing to get to hear their stories. He shared about some anger he had at one point in his life when he was reassigned to a job he didn't want to do in a place he didn't want to be. But he recognized in a few older monks how holding on to anger had twisted them. He didn't want to end up that way, so he prayed through it. Each day. For a few years. And God delivered him. As the monks gather, it is evident which ones are living well--making those life choices that keep them focused on Christ rather than becoming bent and twisted. We all have those choices to make each day.

(I also learned that staying up talking with a friend or playing games until well after 11pm and being up for 7am prayers with the monks does not make a restful weekend. Good, but not restful.)

Using Gifts

So I wrote a blog while at my parents house on Sunday afternoon after church...or so I thought. It's not there, so I guess I'll attempt it again. It's usually good for me to reflect more on a sermon or God's word to make it more applicable to my life anyway.

If you grew up in a fairly liturgical church, you may be familiar with the lectionary--a cycle of biblical readings used on certain days of the year. The common lectionary goes through most of the Bible in a three year period and then repeats.

The practice of following a lectionary, or cycle of readings, date back to ancient Judaism. The early church fathers drew upon that practice incorporating Christian texts. The lectionary notes the church calendar, observing holidays and holy feasts, and it allows church attenders to hear the majority of the Bible over a three-year period. Each Sunday an Old Testament passage, a Psalm, a Gospel text, and a selection from the Epistles or Acts is read.

Usually the four texts are built around a theme. Often, understanding that theme takes time in prayer, study, and meditation to discover; sometimes it is quite obvious--especially during a church season like Advent or Easter.

When I worked in a church that followed the lectionary, and when I was doing pulpit supply and would use the lectionary to give me direction, I enjoyed the challenge of "connecting the dots" between the texts, of finding the common threads in what God is saying.

I was at the church I grew up in this past Sunday while we were visiting my parents. The texts were from Isaiah 62:1-5 and 1 Corinthians 12:1-11 (you can click on those passages to link to the text). Isaiah prophecies that someday, God will make things right for Israel. God says, "I will not be quiet,
until her righteousness goes forth as brightness, and her salvation as a burning torch" (Is. 62:1, ESV). 

The 1 Corinthians passage is probably more familiar; Paul addresses how God gives each person different gifts and though our gifts are different, we are all part of one body. To me these passages together say that we need to use our gifts so that others see God's righteousness and the salvation He gives us. 

Some church leaders place a lot of emphasis on the importance of knowing our spiritual gifts. We are encouraged to go through a class, fill out an assessment, or take a spiritual gifts inventory. This is not a bad thing, but I think that knowing our gifts is less important than using them. And the text from 1 Corinthians shows us that we need to work together. Whatever our gifts our, whether we know them or not, they become most usable in community. There our gifts become part of a whole. And I think that is the full intention. Not that I'm using my particular gift (say teaching, for example) on my own, but I'm using it alongside people who have other gifts like evangelism, wisdom, and healing. One on its own does okay, but when it works together with other gifts then God's righteousness and salvation are manifest more fully. 

We are different, yes. We have different gifts. But gifts are never meant for individuation, but for unity. They are not gifts to us, but to the recipients of our actions. These thoughts aren't new. But what struck me this time is the idea that our gifts work best in community, with others. I feel like too often I hear about "my" gifts with the idea of me using them in specific ways. But I don't feel that I hear too much about working with others, even though we all know that each gift is a part of the body. I think the body metaphor is used mainly to show that we need each individual part, but seldom do we focus on them all working together. 

But maybe this has been said many times and I just haven't heard it. It just happens to be what I heard this past Sunday. God is glorified, and the world will notice, when I use my gifts in community. Together, with others who have different gifts than I do. It's not as fruitful if I try to do it on my own.

The Sixth Day of Christmas: Churches in CommUnity

I have a lot of fond memories of church growing up--things I miss:

• singing in the church choir next to the old men who could really hit the low notes and teach me to sing in Swedish
• getting the brown paper bag with peanuts, an apple and a Hershey's bar after the Christmas program was done
• going to Christmas Eve (or a really early Christmas morning) service and seeing all the extended cousins
• gathering for Sunday School opening songs (and the little brown church we put our birthday money in) before going to our separate classrooms
• Fourth of July church picnics with a ice cold tank of watermelon and cans of pop
• the older generation who passed on so much wisdom and love

Plus, on Easter morning all the churches in town (three of them--plus one from the country) gathered together for an Easter sunrise service which the youth of the churches put on. We also gathered together for baccalaureate and in the summer we all held a worship service under the tent at the Threshermen and Collector's Show.

***

Tonight three other churches in Northeast Minneapolis gathered together with us for "Christmas One." It was named that because a) it's the first Sunday in Christmas, and b) four unrelated churches were gathering together in unity.  One of the pastors reminded us that if we're going to accomplish what God wants us to do in our part of the city, that we can do it best by working together--that God doesn't just want each church to do their own mission. He wants us all to do His mission.

I confess that as an introvert, I don't really like large crowds of new people. I'm not a good mingler. But it was still fun to come together. We packed bags with some treats for kids in a local school. They took donations for a clothing ministry. And we all joined in worship, singing Christmas carols and partaking in the Eucharist.

Now, it's not the same as small town churches where everyone knows each other coming together, but it was still a good experience. It's not very often that four churches from differing theological backgrounds in a metro area come together for worship.

***

Today is also the Feast of the Holy Family--the sixth day of Christmas observed as a celebration of Jesus' earthly family. It seems a fitting celebration for today. The young, virgin Mary. The likely older Joseph. Betrothed to one another, but God steps in and throws a wrench in their plans: Mary accepts God's will and becomes pregnant with His Son. Joseph knows this won't go over well with their culture. Everyone will think she's been unfaithful and runs a high risk of being stoned to death. He's not sure he can believe what she tells him about the Holy Spirit impregnating her, but he is an honorable man who doesn't want to see her die. He intends to divorce her quietly and send her away to have the child. But God convinces him that it is all divinely orchestrated. Joseph stays with her, and they raise God's Son together.

Unity in a family is not easy. Especially when there are those "secrets"--like your virgin wife being impregnated by the Holy Spirit. Especially when you're raising the Son of God. Joseph and Mary without a doubt had their share of struggles. But they stayed together and seem to have done pretty well with raising the young Messiah.

I mean, sure He got in trouble with the law, rubbed the religious leaders the wrong way, and disobeyed social norms (like not talking to women and avoiding lepers). But otherwise He turned out all right. He did save the world, after all.

Reflections on MLK

On Friday I was subbing as a para in a school nearby. In one class we got to see an historical actress tell us about Jane Adam's life and her founding of the Hull House in Chicago. It was quite a remarkable story (and the actress did a great job bring Jane Adams as well as an immigrant woman to life). She was all about serving others and helping to give immigrant families (as well as any poor) a better life.

In another class we watched a video about Martin Luther King, Jr. We didn't talk much about MLK when I was in school. We knew who he was, but his birthday wasn't really celebrated yet, and I lived in a rural community of less than a thousand people that was pretty homogenous. It didn't seem like King's life affected us too much.

But without King's life, I wouldn't be living where I am today...one of the few white males on my block in the midst of Somali, Hmong, Ecuadorian, Native American, African American and mixes of many races. My kids wouldn't have the blessing of diversity in their classes at school.

Have we come a long way? Yes. Do we still have a journey ahead of yes? Yes.

If we think that King was all about Black rights, then we missed his message. He marched and sat in jails for the sake of equality for all: African Americans, Latinos, Asian Americans, Native Americans and even whites. His dream was for our American foundation to be fulfilled that all people are created equal. We still have a ways to go. Women still make less money than men in the same job with the same amount of experience. African Americans are imprisoned at a rate much higher than other races. Poverty and disease is highest among people of color. When we moved into our neighborhood we were told that whites don't belong here. Racism, segregation and divisions still exist among us. We can't move forward as a nation if we are leaving each other behind. King's dream wasn't for himself, but for future generations. He was living change forward.

King based his approach of nonviolent protestation on Gandhi. Gandhi's struggle for freedom in India was the one example King had witness of nonviolent activism working. Gandhi based his approach on the teachings of Jesus. King, being a pastor, was familiar with Jesus' teachings of "turn the other cheek" and "love your enemy." But Gandhi, not the church, was where he had to turn for seeing it lived out.

Justice is a thing of Christ, not of social activists. Jesus came and turned social structures upside down. He touched those whom society said not to go near, He reached below the class system and lifted people up (as well as humbling those who were lofty), He showed love to those who were considered enemies of the faithful Jews and He welcomed everyone--young, old, rich, poor, sick, impaired, lame, male, female--into His loving presence.

It's not easy. To reach beyond our own culture is hard work. We've experienced this even in Minneapolis. The inner city--no matter what color the people are--has a very different culture than the suburbs (again, no matter what race). We're drawn to what and who we're familiar with and comfortable. But in stepping over those divides, in working to bridge cultures, we enrich our lives.

I believe that what King was working toward was Heaven here on earth (Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven). Heaven will not be a place for just whites. Or just blacks. Or just Koreans. There will be no segregation. Every tribe, tongue, and nation will be there praising God. Without prejudice, division or separation. For we are all created in God's image. It is in our diversity that we see the greatness of God. And when we trod each other down and hold other's back we limit our understanding of who God is. He is love. He loves all, for all are His children. Jane Adams knew this. Martin Luther King, Jr. knew this. Even Mahondas Gandhi knew this. May we know it and embody it as well.

Circles

This past Sunday at church I was in a discussion on sacred places. Some one mentioned the sacredness of the circles we gather in: at church, around the meal table, in our living rooms at small groups. When we gather, we gather in circles. Tonight, we had people in our home to talk about world missions with someone from denominational missions office. We started in a circle around the table. We finished in a circle in our living room. Tomorrow night we will do the same with our small group from church.

Our church ancestors (alongside some other religions) were known as "The People of the Book" because of their devotion to God's Word. I decided that our local church should be known as "The People of the Circle." There is something sacred about circles. They have been a symbol of the eternalness of God. When we stand in circles we are connected. Our church rhythms are cyclical. Every year we begin anew on the first Sunday of Advent. We go through the seasons of Advent, Christmas, Lent, Easter, Pentecost and the Ordinary times. And we find ourselves back in a new year. In many ways life is more cyclical than linear.

In the west, we tend to think of life and time as being linear. The east tends to be much more circular in their thinking. Literary scholars are quite familiar with circular narrative as many stories throughout history--from Beowulf to To Kill A Mockingbird--end in much the same manner as they began.

In our sanctuary at church we sit in a circle. Three rows of church surround the central altar. As we worship we are aware of the community we worship with--not just by the back of someone's head, but by their faces. When we sing The Lord's Prayer together we often hold hands in three concentric circles, the middle circle moving in the opposite rotation from the other two circles around the table. We get to see each person present as we move and worship.

Because of entrance points at each end of the room, the circle of chairs are really two semi-circles. They look like parenthesis in retrospect. And in many respects, our gathering for worship or in other circles is largely parenthetical. It brackets our daily routines as a beginning and end. Our circles frame who we are during the week--not workers but servants and followers.

And so we come back each Sunday and sit in our chairs for worship--not in rows. We are, after all, the people of the circle.

Forget Wall Street: Occupy Small Towns

I believe in hard work and doing your best. I also believe some people need our help in order for them to do their best (or even just survive). I don't fault the super-rich for having a lot of money. Just as Jesus said that the poor will always be with us, so will the rich. There are corrupt systems out there; only the naive would think otherwise.

This past week the boys and I spent a couple days on my family's farm. I grew up nestled between Laurens and Albert City, Iowa. Haven't heard of them? It's not surprising. Laurens--where we would go to the library, dentist and grocery store--boasts a population of right around 1500 people. The only reason you might have heard of it is if you happened to have watched David Lynch's 1999 movie, The Straight Story. Albert City--where we went to church and school--has around 700 residents. It is best known for its Threshermen and Collectors Show during which the population of the town explodes exponentially as people from all over come to show off antique farm equipment and farm the way they did over a century ago. I have lived in places like Chicago, Vancouver and Minneapolis, but I still love getting back to small towns. I hope to return to the country someday when it becomes feasible for our family (my wife is pursuing a doctorate right now which is hard to do in a small town).

I feel that our nation would be better off if we occupied small towns instead of Wall Street. Less than a century ago part of the American dream was to have a home in a small town where you could sit on your porch and chat with your neighbors. This is the subject of almost every Norman Rockwell painting.

Then during the middle part of the 20th century, population demographics began to switch. Before then, the majority of Americans lived in rural areas. But then large cities began to grow. Farming became a corporate business and not a place where farmers could sustain their families. Larger stores with more inventory, wider selections and cheaper prices opened in the cities making it difficult for small town stores to turn a profit. And so went the jobs to the larger cities as well. Ever since, many small towns have been fatally in decline--population wise at least. Most small towns are kept up beautifully. There is a spirit of hope there that exudes a determination to rise above circumstances.

Small towns are where community happens. While helping my father on the farm, he took us into town for lunch. The little restaurant was full. Tables were intermingled with people who came in together and others who just showed up. They all knew each other. Conversations weren't just contained at one table, but they occurred amongst everyone. Some complain about this notion--feeling that there is no privacy in a small town. But it's not that you don't have privacy, it's just that you have community. Others do know about you. And you know about them. Simply because you share life together.

Friday night, everyone is at the football field cheering on the high school team. On a Tuesday winter night, everyone is in the school gymnasium cheering on the basketball players. On Wednesday morning the cafe is full of farmers grabbing a cup of coffee while taking a break from their morning chores. If a farmer is injured or hospitalized, neighbors bring their equipment over to do the work that needs to be done. People's lives are intertwined. They depend on one another for their livelihood. And they simply care about one another.

There is no corporate greed. Some may be well off, but very seldom is there exploitation of the labor class. Small town people are hard workers. They are skilled and knowledgeable in many areas. This starts in school. I was involved in basketball, cross country, speech, drama, band (trumpet and baritone), choir, FFA (Future Farmers of America), student council and yearbook among other things. I had farm chores to do before and after school. I was involved in youth group and church choir. This is small town life. People are involved in many capacities in their church. They may be a volunteer fire fighter. They may be on city council or involved with the chamber of commerce. They probably have a few ways they are involved at the local school. If there is a community even, they will be at it.

Main Street is a destination. It is where business occurs and it is where lives are shaved. Your cashier isn't just there to take your money or simply help you make a purchase. They may know what you need before you walk in the store. They ask how your family is doing because they know your family. They care about how your job is going because your well-being will impact theirs. Small towns are where life happens.

Small towns may not have art museums filled with Monets and Van Goghs. They may not attract Broadway plays. They won't have a professional sports team. They probably won't draw a big name concert venue.

But they have local artists whose love of their hometown inspires them to create a beautiful mural. Your next door neighbor surprises everyone by bringing the crowd to their feet in the community theater's latest production. High school athletes play their hearts out, not for the sake of millions of dollars, but for school pride. And the community band's summer performance in the band shell is a wonderful way to end a summer evening while enjoying ice cream a lemonade with your neighbors.

Here's my plea for those on Wall Street and corporate America: stop merging your corporations and outsourcing your jobs overseas for the sake of making more money whilst hurting those who are your source of income in the first place. Give small town America a chance. Revitalize a small town. Bring some business and jobs back to one. These are people with character and morals that won't let you down. They are loyal and committed to their work as well as their community.

A Labor of Love (since it's Labor Day and all)

In the New International Version of the Bible, the phrase "love the Lord your God" occurs thirteen times. "Love your neighbor" occurs ten. Ten times we are told to love ourselves (as our guideline for loving others). The Bible tells us that these are the first and second greatest commandments: to love God and love our neighbor as we love ourselves. Scot McKnight calls this "The Jesus Creed." It is the basis of what we live out when we follow Christ.

We've had a weekend of God, self and neighbors. Friday night, as discussed in the post before this, we had over 50 people in our yard as we had a cook-out with families from the boys' school. Saturday evening we got together with our good friends from our old neighborhood and went to an outdoor concert at Lake Harriet (though we didn't expect it to be as cold as it got). Sunday we went to the farmers market, did some biking and hiking in a park, had our last church service in the park for the year and gathered around a bonfire with friends after church. This morning we gathered at another friends' house on the parkway in North Minneapolis to watch the 10k & 5k race that went in front of their place. Several members from church and a friend from school were running in it. So we camped out on the lawn and cheered them on (while sharing some breakfast food). We ate lunch together and hung out (playing a few games of kubb and molkky as well).

 Our text at church on Sunday night was from Romans 13:8-9: "Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another, for he who loves his fellowman has fulfilled the law. The commandments, “Do not commit adultery,” “Do not murder,” “Do not steal,” “Do not covet,” and whatever other commandment there may be, are summed up in this one rule: “Love your neighbor as yourself.”" I've mentioned before the struggle I have at times in loving myself (as well as others and God). It's not easy. But the more we do it, the better we become.

Pastor Jan said, "In God's love, we become loving; in our loving others, we experience God's love." When we grow in one area (loving self, God or neighbor), we ultimately grow in all areas. I call the the trinity of love. All three areas need to be there. If we're neglecting one side of the love triangle (God, others, self), we're not fully loving any of the other sides. We can't fully love God if we're hating our neighbor. We're not truly loving others if we despise ourselves.

St. Benedict, in his rule of life for monastic living, said to treat the stranger (as well as the one you know) at the door as if they were Christ. Here I often fail. And sometimes I treat Christ as a stranger. And sometimes I treat myself that way, also. But there are times when I love God really well. There are times I love others really well. There are even times I love myself well. These are the times to build upon--and love from.

If I love myself well, I accept who I am. I take care of my needs. I forgive myself for my faults. This is how I should treat my neighbor. If I love God well, I am spending time with him. I am praising Him for who He is. I am doing what He asks of me. This is also how I should treat my neighbor. Inwardly, outwardly and upwardly we are called to love. Jesus (as well as Paul) says that in doing this, we fulfill all the commands of the Bible. So simple--yet so hard at times. But the more we do it, the better we become.

Of BBQs and Evangelism.

By our best calculations we had 42 people in our yard tonight. That's not including our family. Or the neighborhood kids who kept showing up (there were at least five or six of them). So well over 50 people total. We're very thankful for a corner lot with a big side yard.

 We had wanted to do a gathering this weekend. Our church family was our first thought--but it's always our first thought. We love those people and its easy to spend time with them. So we went with families fromt the boys' school. We just sent out an email invitation to several families who have children our boys are friends with and gave permission for them to extend the invitation tot other families from school. And so 42 people showed up.

We went with the laid back approach of having everyone bring meat to grill and a dish to pass (which is also a good approach when you can't afford feed 42 people on your own). We had condiments, utensils, plates, cups, water, etc. So other than set up, we just had to get the grill going (and thanks to our good friends Bob & Amy Mingo we had a second one to use) and keep things going smoothly.

It was nice to just hang out, let the kids play and get to talk with other parents--many of whom we don't often get much time to talk with. No pressure. No agenda. Just fun and fellowship.

I know some Christians might chastise me for not taking the opportunity to pray for the kids and the school and try to "evangelize those that needed to be evangelized." That would be my pastoral duty, after all. Except that it's not. Not to me at least. I did my job as a follower of Jesus tonight. I gathered people together, served them as best I could, and hopefully let them see a little difference--a little light, a little love, a little fellowship. Most importantly, it was a step toward building some relationships. Not for the sake of "saving" anyone, but for the sake of loving them.

I'm not about high-pressured evangelism. I'm more about trying to live my life in such a way that people see a difference. I believe Jesus said something along the lines of "they'll know we are Christians by our love" (or maybe that's just an old spiritual). If we don't live any differently than others--differently enough that they see a difference in us--then why would they want to follow Jesus anyway?

And so I didn't offer up a prayer tonight. I just kept the charcoal burning nicely while building some new relationships. Hopefully that's something.

Campfire Community

When I took the boys camping earlier this week, they asked who we were going with. This is a new thing. We haven't done much camping with other people outside of our camping weekend with my family. For various reasons, we've usually gone by ourselves (often because of when we can go and the budget that necessitates our time away). So our vacation this summer with another family was something new--something enjoyable. And we do need some family camping trips as well, with just us (or just me and the boys).

This weekend we went camping with our small group (our Chapter House) from church (all but one person who was on vacation elsewhere). Because of the need for a cabin-type lodging for some of our group and not being able to find them available in most state parks, we ended up going to Covenant Park Bible Camp where a good friend of ours has been the director. It was a nice setting--we were able to set up our tents and have a campfire just a short distance from the lodging (which was nice with a group to be able to have a fridge and not worry about ice).

We did some kayaking (Anders even tried going by himself and did quite well), swimming, playing of kubb and bocce, and of course just sitting around the campfire and relaxing. And eating--I can't forget that.

Community is important to us. It is a core part of our church. Camping together was a great way to continue building that community together within our group. I'm also thankful for a group of people with whom I can build community in a deeper level.

We happened to be there the same time that a Covenant Church from Duluth was doing their church retreat. I enjoyed getting to talk with their pastor and a few of their members. They were building community, too. They even invited us to join in with them at times. I love that about our denomination (and I know others are the same way): we're a wide family. Where ever we go and run into each other--even if we don't know each other previously--we can converse like old friends. We can do that because we know our community expands beyond our tent site, our church and our neighborhood. Where ever blue sky or twinkling stars shine above us, we are in a place of community--if we allow ourselves and take the time and effort to be with one another.

Shoebox Apartments and Hospitality

I came across this video of an architect in Manhattan living in a 78 square foot apartment (and paying more in rent than we do on our mortgage for our home--but I guess that's New York for you). It's an amazing video to watch; I marvel at how he can live in such a small space and how he has devised his own furniture to make it work for him (plus the fact that he works from home!).

I've posted before how I admire people who can pare down and find comfort in small living spaces. But I guess finally growing into a strong community of faith has effected me. Despite my fairly strong introvert pull, I found myself thinking during the video, "But he can't have people over for dinner!"

While I'm not becoming an extrovert, I have definitely come to see the importance of community and our home as a place of hospitality. Of course, a 78-sq ft apartment can't limit your hospitality and your belonging to community--only you can do that.

So make the most of your living space, but make even more of your giving space--your opportunities to share with those around you, to create community. It is where we, together, become better than we could be on our own.

Stability

I haven't written for a while. I preached tonight at church, so my focus was on that. We're also leaving in the morning for a camping trip (the first of two this week). It's our first "vacation" with other people (other than family members). There's a handful of friends we could envision spending a week vacation with (let alone a family who would be willing to camp and go at our level of affordability for vacationing). So we're thankful for friends we don't have to feel anxious about spending several days with--and who have kids ours can spend all that time with as well. We're coming back in time to wash clothes and re-pack for a camping trip with my family next weekend.

In the midst of all the preparations, I was focusing on a sermon on stability. I talked about how stability, biblically speaking, isn't so much about "balance" in life. (My friend and former boss Joel Rude used the following imagery often, so he gets credit for the balancing analogy.) If you imagine a see-saw with the fulcrum in the center, we often imagine life that way--a balancing act. You need to have the same amount of mass on each side. If you add more mass to one side, you need to balance out the other side or shift the fulcrum closer to the side with more mass. We can talk about God being the fulcrum that we need to center our lives on, and this is all good imagery. But we all know how difficult it is to keep life balanced--especially if unexpected things come our way.

I talked about how our issue is that the fulcrum only touches one small point. If we widen it, eventually spanning the entire width, then it becomes a foundation instead of a fulcrum. And whatever gets added to our lives--whatever storms come our way--we can handle it without getting out of balance. If we claim to have God as Lord of our life, then He should be in contact with our whole life anyway--not just one small juncture.

Stability is a central part of St. Benedict's Rule. When a new monk is formally admitted into the community, he takes vows. "When he is to be received, he comes before the whole community in the oratory and promises stability, fidelity to monastic life, and obedience" (RB 58:17). Stability is rooted in place (the monastery--for us, our church and neighborhood), obedience to God and community (intentionally inviting our faith community into our lives). Our foundation is strengthened when we practice our faith disciplines: following the rhythms of the church (liturgical calendar), praying the hours, investing in our small groups (chapter houses in our church), etc.

That foundation helps us weather the storms of life. We do not need to run when the tough times come. We can stand firm, knowing that God is with us and He is steadfast.

And so, in the midst of a hectic week, we can have stability. And it'll be nice to take part of our community with us on vacation.

On Baptism

One of the things I appreciate about our denomination is that we baptize both infants and believers. The church didn't want something like the specifics of baptism to divide it so they allowed space for both. As ministers we agree to perform both modes.

When believers come to be baptized they do so as a public pronouncement of faith, showing that their sins have been washed through Christ's blood and they are living a new life in alignment with Christ's death and resurrection. They are baptized because they chose Jesus.

When parents bring their infant to be baptized in the church, they do so as a sign of God's prevenient grace. Jesus' atonement took care of our sins long before we were even born. He went to the cross knowing that one day we would be in need of His grace and salvation; He loved us before we breathed our first breath. Infant baptism shows that Jesus chose us.

I was baptized as an infant. That is special to me--and I need those reminders that God chose me. We chose to let our boys decide when they want to be baptized. I appreciate both forms of baptism and their reminders of who we are in God. Both are signs of His grace and love.

We celebrated two new lives in our church tonight. Baby Bailey was "churched"--it was her first time to church since being born just over a week ago. Our tradition is to welcome them with prayers and blessings.

Baby Teagan was baptized tonight. She happened to be Pastor Jan's granddaughter so it was a special event--though, of course, all baptisms are special. With each baptism we are reminded of our own baptisms and place in God's family. We pray over those who are baptized.

Tonight, the lectionary text happened to be Acts 2:42-47 which talks about how the church functioned when it was first formed. The believers were devoted to the apostles' teaching, fellowship, the breaking of bread, prayer and to sharing their resources for the sake of helping those in need. The met together in the temple and in their homes, and each day new believers were added to their number. We continue that today. This is the community we are baptized into. This is what we welcome the newly baptized into for being discipled. And in our baptism, as we are identifying ourselves with Jesus, we are also entering into a community where we practice the same things the church has been practicing together for generations. We fellowship together, we gather at the table together, we pray together, we learn together, we grow together, we love others together, we give together and we follow together. This is the family you are welcomed into.

The Good in The Hood

There's a lot of hurt in the hood. It doesn't take much to see that. Several times a day I can hear people yelling at each other.

But there's also a lot of good. Yesterday while I was working in the yard I got a chance to talk with James who lives down the street from us. He often can be seen outside in the mornings walking up and down the block picking up litter from the curb and sidewalks. James moved to North Minneapolis after living most of his life in the projects in Chicago. The way he talks, you'd think North Minneapolis was a paradise compared to the projects. And maybe it is. He shared how his kids couldn't really play at the playground because of the gunfire. They knew to drop to the ground if they heard shots.

James moved here a while back when some family members invited him up. Right away he found job opportunities. And though he could get his own place, his aunt appreciates the help he provides as well as peace of mind knowing he's around.

And he's here to make the neighborhood better--as shown by his selfless act of cleaning up the never-ending litter (though James admits some could likely be from his grandkids...). One of the axioms I was taught as a kids was to always leave a place better than when you found it. James is doing that; hopefully, we are too. That's what community does. Not just with the litter, but with each other.

Resurrection Living

After the obligatory hunting of the Easter baskets at home (which contained comic books), we headed off to church. We usually meet in the evenings, but this morning we had rented space at a chalet at a nearby golf course. So with a roaring fire in the fireplace, we gathered together to worship the risen Lord. We resurrected our alleluias (we had "buried" them in a chest on Ash Wednesday), reflected on the cycle of dying and rising in our lives and vigorously sang praise. We gathered around the table, remembering what Christ did and what He offers. It was a good morning.

We had invited anyone from church who didn't have plans elsewhere to come over for brunch after church. A couple families were able to join us, and we thoroughly enjoyed food, fellowship and beautiful weather. The kids spent some time hunting easter eggs in the yard. Then we gathered around the table once again for some dessert (like we needed more food!).

After they left a couple other friends stopped by after dealing with a tough situation. Once again we gathered around the table to talk, cry and listen.

Easter isn't just about new life and victory over death (though it is indeed very much about that). It is just as much about living life now as it is the afterlife. And as I read the Bible, living abundantly now means living in community (when the Bible says "you" it is almost always plural).

And that's what today was: life in community (and it was mainly around the table as you may have noticed). It's not always easy or pretty, but its good. And it frequently has good doses of fun. But mainly it has a lot of good folks who are on the same journey. We share our lives (and our food) and we help each other grow more into living life fully. All because He is risen.

Security

According to the classic college developmental psychology subject, Abraham Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, security (safety) is one of our main basic human needs. We need to feel that there is order, fairness and stability in our world. We want to be healthy, have job security and feel safe in our community.

When we moved into our new house we were sent a brochure soon after by a home security company wanting us to install their alarms so that we wouldn't have to worry about burglars or other unwanted guests. Part of that was appealing--just to know we didn't have to worry about our place when we were away, or that I could feel at ease when my wife was home alone.

I just finished Christ Seay's book The Gospel According to Jesus: A Faith that Restores All Things (a book I received in exchange for writing a review about it). As I was reading it, at one point I began to wonder--I don't remember what provoked the thought, but I jotted this down in my notes--if security at times becomes an idol to us. Do we seek security more than we seek God? Do our fears drive us to God or toward locks on our doors?

Part of feeling safe and secure for many of us is not allowing ourselves to be vulnerable. We want people to like us; we don't want them to think we have problems; we have to give the appearance of having it all together. Security seldom builds community--neither the deadbolts on our doors nor the locks on our hearts.

I am grateful for a church community that takes risks. Safety is important, but it doesn't trump trusting God or being authentic. Last night at church instead of our regular prayer time where we partner up and share our needs with an individual our pastor felt the Spirit saying to do a time of prayer where those who needed to could enter into the center circle and say, "God, I need your mercy because ________."

Of course, we all need God's mercy. We all have sins. We all have struggles. It's easy to generalize those, but it's hard to stand before others and put a name to your struggles and sins. But people did. And it was powerful. And it was vulnerable. In many ways, standing in that circle wasn't secure. But it was safe nonetheless. Sometimes there is safety in taking risks--risks like opening your soul to others or in stepping out in faith to give away a large sum of money or to leave a comfortable job. The safety comes in knowing you're in God's will.

In His will--in His love--there is no fear. But to be there we can have no other priorities (idols), not even security. In Him alone must we trust. And only in His arms will we truly be secure.

Stability

Last night we were at the annual meeting of the land trust that helped us purchase our home (it was really a bowling and pizza party with door prizes). As we met people and shared our stories, we realized we now have a home (this , obviously isn't news). But with that comes the fact that we'll be in one place for a while--or at least we intend to be, and we need to be here for at least five years for some of our loans to be forgivable. In our thirteen years of marriage, we've lived in Wisconsin, Illinois, Iowa, British Columbia and Minnesota. Five years was the longest we've lived anywhere. We've made a purchase that in many ways, forces us to plant ourselves for a while.

Staying in one place is rare in today's culture. We move around from city to city, job to job, church to church. Stability is one of the core principles of our church.

Stability creates an environment to grow and mature, rooting us deeply within and without, through endurance and perseverance, with a particular community and location.

Stability calls us to a committed way of life with a certain group of people for the long haul. Stability in monastic tradition would also add the willingness to be grounded in a geographic location from which mission and ministry is birthed. From a place of deep listening to God and connection to the people around them, the community’s charism and calling is discovered.

In particular, stability requires a interior stay with-it-ness when external or internal forces toss us about, making us want to flee.

The principle of stability is deeply rooted in God’s faithfulness to us. It is promised, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” It is in this promise of God with us through His constant abiding presence we are able to commit ourselves to each other in God.

Abbey Way claims this principle of stability as its own. Antidotal to non-committal and individualistic forms of church attendance, stability names the real work of creating a community which is able to reflect the glory of Christ. As Abbey Way embraces stability as one of our core principals, we hope to create a consistent and accessible embodiment of the Gospel, enabling others to find Jesus and experience new life in Christ. (From http://www.abbeyway.org/principles/)

The practice of stability poses great promise. It also poses many questions. I am, by profession, in ministry--though I'm not employed right now. Traditionally, ministers move from church to church every so often. And my wife would have better job opportunities if we could move elsewhere. But even though we're willing to go wherever God sends us, I don't want to move around every few years. Sometimes better job opportunities aren't worth uprooting. Sometimes.

We've been in places where we wanted to root ourselves before (most of them--some we would have stayed around longer in if there were employment opportunities), and we've been in places where we haven't (Chicago was fun, but we would have had a hard time raising kids there). Right now we're in a church community we love and a neighborhood we want to be a part of transforming. Still, I don't savor the prospect of living in the middle of the city my whole life (I'm still a country boy at heart).

Putting down roots can be hard. When a seed starts to send out a root, the seed has to crack. Sometimes we need to be broken--and feel the brokenness of our neighborhood--for us to get to the point of growth where we are. And right now we're sprouting not in a field of alike crops, but in a prairie of wildflowers--each different, but each adding to the landscape.

(Photo by Amy Mingo)

Community

Today (after mowing the lawn and getting a start on some veggie stock for soup for supper) the boys and I headed over to the Harvest Festival in our neighborhood. It was a small event (only the 2nd year of it happening, I believe) but still enjoyable with artists, food vendors, farmers' market stands, music and a kids zone. We ran into a few neighborhood friends from Sanctuary there.

Then we had Anders' soccer practice/game in St. Louis Park. We're doing it there because his best friend is doing it. The two of them spend more time with their arms around each other as they do kicking the ball. And Nils played with the younger brother (they're the same age as well; Nils may consider him his own best friend in his own way) the whole time. And I got to hang out with their parents (whom we dearly love as well).

Then after supper we had friends from church over for movie night (it was initially going to include supper, but plans adjusted). A couple of us had been out late last night at a house-warming party for another friend from church so our kids were exhausted, but we decided we all wanted to hang out for a while despite the fact that our kids could go into meltdown mode at some point (which they didn't). So we opted for a shorter movie (Disney's Robin Hood)--but it really wasn't about the movie. The movie is just an excuse. The kids often go off and play for a little while at some point. The adults spend a bit of time talking. Tonight the women even did some sewing.

All of these events of today were about community. Each community was different: neighborhood, church friends, school friends, etc. Community is our calling (and in community there is room for solitude which I need at times). Community is a gift from God to help aid us in discovering more about ourselves through our interactions with others. We find encouragement, correction, friendship and love. There are times in my life when I've ran from community because I was afraid to be truly known by others (even though I deeply desired it at the same time). I'm learning to love community. It gives my day so much more meaning.

Beautification

Today was the North Minneapolis Beautification Project in the Glengale Neighborhood where we live. The Pohlad Foundation spearheaded it, helping provide the resources for homes to spruce themselves up (they had helped fund new equipment for the Glengale Park earlier this summer). We planted 40 new plants around our house: barberry bushes, day lilies, cone flowers, hostas, sedum, ornamental grasses and others.

In other parts of the neighborhood, retaining walls were being put in and edging was put in and many other plants were planted. It's nice when an organization wants to come in and help provide the means for "beautifying" neighborhoods. There were many organizations that provided volunteers throughout the day, as well. We were helped by volunteers from Target as well as our friends from Urban Homeworks.

So thank you, Pohlad Foundation. And thank you to the others involved, which, according to the back of the t-shirt were: Pohlad Family Companies, Catalyst Community Partners, Jordan Area Community Council, NAIOP (Commercial Real Estate Development Assoc.), The Ackerberg Group, City of Minneapolis, Glengale Park Residents, Neighborhood Housing Services of Minneapolis, Northside Home Fund, RJM Construction, Urban Homeworks and Minnesota Internship Center at Unity House. And thanks to the countless volunteers who care to make a difference in sprucing up an often overlooked neighborhood.