Evolving Faith… an idea whose time has come

It’s been nearly ten years since I was graciously offered a full scholarship to participate in what I affectionately called “science camp”.  About twenty pastors spent a week on a small island off the coast of Vancouver, BC eating organic meals, debriefing a host of pre-reading we’d done, including one of my now favorite books, “Lives of a Cell: Notes of Biology Watcher” by Lewis Thomas.  Heated discussions erupted over the course of the week because all our leaders were there to point us away from young earth literalism and toward theistic evolution.  Some were readily convinced, and others rose up to resist.

I came away far less dogmatic about the length of time in the Genesis One creation narrative, but far, far more comfortable with the notion of evolution and adaptation as a means whereby our amazing planet has blossomed to its current levels of biodiversity, eco-interdependency, and just outright beauty.  When science camp was over, I preached a 4 part series on Genesis 1 and 2, followed by a panel discussion of scientists who were also Christians.  These fine people answered questions from attenders whose mindset ranged from feeling threatened, to the warm embrace of “finally – permission to think AND believe!” from someone who grew up believing these two paradigms to be antagonistic.

As for me, my biggest take-away from the conference was the realization that my own movement, in light of further evidence, away from a strictly literalist approach to the seven day creation narrative of Genesis one was, itself, a form of ‘faith evolution’.  Both mind and heart were confronted with previously unseen evidence, and I adapted, moved, evolved, as a result – or at least my faith did.

Since that time I’ve come to believe that this adaptive mindset is truly a hallmark of what it means to follow Jesus.  We grow, we’re faced with new evidence, we wrestle, we let go of old views or practices, we embrace new ones.  These new things themselves, change us so that we grow still more, are faced with yet more revelation, wrestle with it, adapt, embrace, and move yet again.  When the fruit of these kinds of movements leads to a greater love for others, and oneself, a greater peace and generosity, a gentleness of spirit rather than combativeness, and a deeper love of Jesus, I think we can rest assured that the fruit is from Christ.

All of us are in need of that kind of continual evolution, but there are strains of the Christian religion that exist more as turf defenders than curious saints on an ongoing journey of transformation.  Their lives are defined by anxiety, fear of disappointing God (and other authority figures), and a boatload of blind prejudice to their own shortcomings, along with historical amnesia about the ‘big C’ church’s failings down through the centuries.  Those who grow up with this defensive mode of faith sometimes have a hard time “breaking good”, by breaking away from its legalistic forms.  They continue to parrot the faith of their parents, all the while terrified of missing God’s will, wondering if they’ve prayed enough, served enough, given enough, to warrant God’s favor.

There are hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of Christ-followers who, having grown up in this defensive posture, have had the courage to follow Christ into an evolved faith – a faith that’s more gracious, less certain, more nuanced, less defensive, more hospitable, less afraid.

Elizabeth Jeffries memoir “Through the Kaleidoscope” is just such a journey.  Her subtitle is “How Exploring Cell Biology Transformed My Relationship with God”.  With disarming authenticity, she shares her faith journey from her evangelical fundamentalist roots, to her current faith posture, as much in love with Jesus as ever (actually more so), but now with a deeper embrace of mystery, the power of community, and a warm embrace of her own evolving identity – spirit, soul, and body.

Her theological shift was the outgrowth of her work as a research scientist.  One after another, her simplistic and reductionist views of biology collapsed in light of further knowledge.  The views that came out more fully formed on the other side were deeper, but also infused with a bit of mystery in many cases.  She applied this depth of discovery to her faith and found a similar result:  deeper, but infused with a bit of mystery 

The practical outworkings of her evolved faith bear the marks of authentic faith:

better body image

less performance anxiety related to both faith and work

more joy

more capacity to enjoy her full identity: scientist, Christ-follower, woman

…and much more.

You needn’t be a scientist to enjoy the book, but it will help if you bring a curiosity, theological honesty and vulnerability, and willing to lay down your theological weapons so that you can read with an open mind.  Those who do will find their faith evolving, as Paul says, “from glory to glory”, which is what we all want anyway!  Or at least I hope we do!

 

40 – thoughts on marriage after 40 years of it

I’m just back from an anniversary reunion.  Our three children along with their spouses, three grandchildren and mom-in-law gathered together in a big house on the east side of the Cascades to celebrate Donna’s and my 40 year marriage.  It wasn’t really about the 40 years though – it was about the reality that we’re honestly entering our fifth decade of marriage together still enjoying each other’s company, still a team, still healthy and intimate with each other…in short, still very much “in love”. 

As has been my tradition for a while now, I offer up this list of 40 things I’ve learned about marriage, one for each year.  They’re not prescriptive as much as descriptive – they are what’s worked for us. I hope that some of this may work for you too.  They’re offered in no particular order: 

 

  1. We’ve always tried to spend less than we make.
  2. Eat by candlelight as often as possible (even when you don’t want to.  Sometimes just striking the match can be the trigger toward reconciliation after a disagreement) 
  3. Remember the reasons you married.  In my case, I said to her:  “you make me laugh, you give me the freedom to fail, you’ll live anywhere in the world”
  4. She responded, “Anywhere but Los Angeles…” and after assuring her that that would never happen, we felt God’s call to move there and she did!
  5. The best centerpieces are summer wildflowers in an empty beer bottle
  6. We’ve always tried to keep a sabbath day.  These days its hiking together, mostly in silence, and then sharing an evening meal.
  7. The TV is rarely a friend of intimacy – but we don’t judge ourselves when we watch some.
  8. Being radically different, in that we share no common letters on the Meyers-Briggs or numbers on the Enneagram, isn’t a bad thing….
  9. …IF (and it’s a big if) you can begin to see other’s differences, not as annoying, but as completing you.
  10. For example: Donna loves details and I hate them.  Just this morning she pointed out that I bought the Italian version of Grandpa’s Sausage from Owen’s Meats.  I told her I didn’t even know there was an Italian version.  She said, “That’s because you don’t read labels carefully.”   Instead of being annoyed, though, I think she appreciates my breadth of curiosity that makes me read more widely than deeply…
  11. …and I appreciate her attention to detail because: insurance, taxes, bills, desks to organize, closets and counters to clean of clutter, calendars, airline tickets, parking at the airport, and on and on it goes…  Every detail is a gift to me!
  12. In spite of vast differences, a shared passion is a gift.  Ours is the outdoors.
  13. But I like speed and peaks and she likes paying attention to forest details and mostly level ground.
  14. Rather than dig our heels in – we compromise.  I find scrambles to the tops of peaks she can do, or ridges with views (which she loves), and I leave the meandering snowshoe trips to her and her friends, and the hard skiing where I shoot for 55mph or more, or peak-bagging to me and my friends.
  15. Learning to compromise in the wilderness has been the lab, but the same kind of compromise has bled into lots of other areas of life…
  16. …like food – where I’m increasingly Paleo, but not a zealot about it because of French Toast and cheese sandwiches but because bread doesn’t treat her well, I eat that stuff when I’m alone in the city.
  17. Which reminds me that travel brings reality to the saying “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”  After a time apart, when I’m away teaching, my appreciation of Donna is rekindled, as there are o-so-many things I miss when we’re apart….
  18. …as we are regularly in this season of life due to our dual living locations of Seattle and the mountains.  This is because of our privileged season of life to provide a home for Donna’s mom, which is a reminder that holding plans with an open hand and being flexible is far greater than making autonomous goals and going after them with rigid dogma.
  19. We’ve always given some money away –  giving to our local church and a few other things we support.  Never hoard it all for yourselves.
  20. Our devotional lives are dramatically different and I eventually learned that that’s OK.  There were years though, when I coveted greater spiritual compatibility.  Now I celebrate our different ways of viewing the world, and we’ve learned to listen to each other better as a result.
  21. As we’ve grown older, we’ve had more talks about our sex life than we did early on…
  22. …which have resulted in dramatic changes in our intimacy practices.  This is a testimony to honesty, vulnerable, and serving the other….
  23. …and as a result, our life in this area is better than ever! (our only regret is that we didn’t start this a few decades earlier)
  24. We’re not athletes or obsessive dieters, but we try to exercise most days, and eat decently.  We’ve been fortunate to be healthy and count that as both a privilege and a reason to keep pursuing and expanding healthy habits for spirit, soul, and body.
  25. Our best conversations are ones that nobody else will ever know about
  26. (And now a few from Donna): Laugh often.
  27. Remind myself that I’m not always right and sometimes “winning” is an illusion.  Miss Crankypants can be hard to live with too.
  28. Adapt. Adapt. Adapt. We are changeable people who live in changing times. What worked yesterday may not be working well today and may not work tomorrow so be open to change and adapt.
  29. Make do with what we already have. Mend it. Use it up. Wear it out. Get every ounce out if it whether it’s an older car, an “outdated” article of clothing or furniture, the end of the toothpaste, (and, yes, tea bags are  good for two cups of tea… Sometimes more, but I digress…)
  30. Cultivate the things we both enjoy and keep doing them. For us, it’s been nature and simply being out in God’s cathedrals.  I help him slow down and pay attention.  He helps me push myself a little harder.
  31. Be curious. About everything. Don’t settle for what I already know and stagnate there. Learn new things. Be open to other points of view. Stay nimble.
  32. Love God. Love others. Period.
  33. Cook together. Try new recipes. Tweak old favorites. We enjoy the process of alternating between executive chef and sous-chef. Clean the kitchen. Together.
  34. Learn to fight fair and then let go of past transgressions. Don’t keep a storehouse of bitterness. Let it go and move forward. Forgiveness needs to go both ways.
  35. Encourage Richard’s interests and be willing to enter into them, even if it’s not necessarily my favorite thing.
  36. Richard was very intentional about cultivating our relationship as a couple especially during those parenting years. It’s important to remember what we appreciated about each other in the beginning and keep encouraging that today.
  37. Date nights were not that great if all we did was talk about our kids. (Sorry kids. You were not the center of our universe…) We tried to talk about ourselves. How we’re doing as individuals and as a couple. We’re not afraid of hard conversations any more. Becoming good listeners needs to start with honest sharing.
  38. Conflict is not always a negative thing as long as our children see honest forgiveness, humility and reconciliation as the end result. (We weren’t perfect at this but we tried.)
  39. Embrace each day as a gift to be enjoyed. Life is uncertain. Since we don’t know how much time we have, we need to make each day count for something positive to share with our world.
  40. Don’t go to bed angry for two reasons: 1. You won’t really sleep well anyway. 2. Trying to have a “rational” conversation in the morning while you’re sleep-deprived probably won’t go as well. So skip the bad nights’ sleep and talk it out. We made a perfect divot together in the middle of our ancient futon for a reason. (Sorry if that’s TMI. But it’s true.)

 

 

 

 

The Disciplines of Self Care – (Why your Oxygen mask must go on first)

Years ago I found myself in a debate over an organization’s mission statement.  At the time it read, “meeting people at their point of need and enabling them to become all God had in mind when God made them”  I liked it, but others didn’t.  “Too consumeristic” they said, declaring that this kind of mission statement feeds narcissism, with the result that “having my needs met” would become the only thing people would care about.  It’s a legitimate concern.  The older I become, the more firmly I believe that the end goal of our lives is to become these full containers that are overflowing with compassion, generosity, courage, beauty, and creativity.  These things are a far cry from the consumerism that prevails in both the marketplace and churches of today.  And yet, the older I get, the more I stand by my statement that having our needs met isn’t just important, it’s foundational.  Until we receive, we’re unable to give.  Here’s what I mean….

You’re no doubt aware of the Mt. Everest spectacles this year.  With overcrowding and unnecessary deaths, the events of this summer hearken back to the 1996 climbing season when eight climbers died on Mount Everest during a storm. It was the worst loss of life ever on the mountain on a single day. Author Jon Krakauer, who himself attempted to climb the peak that year, wrote a best-selling book about the incident, Into Thin Air, which was published in 1997.  Anatoli Boukreev, also guiding on Everest that year, also published a book about the events entitled, The Climb: Tragic Ambitions on Everest.  (The two books offer a fascinating look at how two people, participating in the same events, can recall differently, highlight different things, and interpret the same exact events dramatically differently, attaching totally different motives to a person’s actions.  This makes for interesting consideration of how we read the Bible, but that’s a different topic, for a different day)

Boukreev, the Russian guide working for Seattle guide Scott Fisher, had taken his clients to the top earliest in the day.  He descended to the nearest camp without his clients, where he brewed tea, fortified himself, and then went back up the mountain to work on rescue operations.  Here’s an excerpt from Boukreev’s book explaining the situation:

“I said to Scott that the ascent seemed to be going slowly, and I was concerned that descending climbers could possibly run out of oxygen before their return to Camp IV (at 7,900 m). I explained that I wanted to descend as quickly as possible to Camp IV to warm myself and get a supply of hot drink and oxygen in case I might need to go back up the mountain to assist descending climbers. Scott, as had Rob Hall before him, said ‘OK’ to this plan.”

Some said Boukreev was selfish to go down.  But one article describes the value of how his time of rest for what came next:

Six people needed help and only Boukreev was willing to go out. With tea and oxygen he went out three times in the storm and brought back first Sandy Pittman, and then Charlotte Fox and Tim Madsen. He repeatedly asked Sherpas and members of other expeditions to help save Yasuko Namba (Weaters wasn’t there at that point), but no one would.

(One climber), Gammelgaard, remembers seeing Boukreev after he returned with Fox and Madsen: “I woke up at around 5 a.m. and saw Anatoli [Boukreev]. He had returned. It was already light, and he sat without saying a word. He was completely exhausted. There was no energy left in him.

Going down early and resting was… selfish?  The debate here is a debate that goes well beyond the climbing world, because it’s really about the role of self-care and service of others in the lives we live.  The critics of Boukreev are perhaps rightly wary of an excessive focus on self care because, to be blunt, by almost any standard, most agree that we live in the age of the elevated selfishness.

The danger of being a “lover of self” is obvious in the Bible, and the warnings are there for a reason.  There’s something in our nature that is tempted to withdraw from compassion, service, and generosity.  When we yield to such tendencies our lives shrink dramatically, even though we have an outer coating of righteousness.  We can redefine success as not breaking laws like stealing, killing, committing adultery, paying our taxes, and even add things like going to church, verbally defending the Bible, and perhaps even defending our politics.  But this is not, by any stretch of Jesus’ imagination, what following Jesus looks like.  This is self absorbed religion, taking in, and in, and in.  If you strip the religious veneer off of it, it’s just pure narcissism – living for our own well being and not caring for others.  When the warning against being a ‘lover of self’ isn’t heeded, religious people will be the worst kind of self lovers… self righteous self-lovers!

In contrast, God’s clear calling from the beginning is that humans are invited to feast on God’s blessings, but to do so in order that we might actively bless and serve others!  Remember Abraham:  “blessed to be a blessing”.  Remember Micah: “what does God require of you, but to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God”.  Remember Jesus: “if anyone is thirsty let him come to me and drink, and from his belly will burst forth rivers of living water”.  You get this picture of being filled so that we can pour out!

Which brings me, for a moment, back to Boukreev.  Remember that warning when you’re flying.  “If you’re flying with children and the oxygen masks appear, put your own mask on first!”  None of us will ever know Boukreev’s true motives.  We DO know that he had the strength and inner fortitude to rescue three people, above 8000 meters, in an Everest storm.  He had to find them, stabilize them, move them.  Some were snow blind.  Some were refusing to move, preferring instead to die.  No matter.  He served…and saved… because he was strong enough to do so.

THE POINT OF IT ALL

I’m increasingly convinced that one of the largest barriers to healthy marriages, families, churches, non-profits, businesses, even cities and nations, is the appalling condition of the people in charge.  When I go to pastors’ conferences, for example, I hear material that is good, inspiring, and even important – things about casting vision, managing well, staffing and hiring decisions, change management, conflict management, how to think big, etc.  Without being dismissive of any of it, my complaint is that if you sweep all of that stuff away, a fundamental truth remains:  healthy leaders are the foundational element for creating healthy systems.  Healthy individuals who marry create healthy marriages.  Healthy couples create healthy families.  Healthy pastors help create healthy churches.  And so it goes.  There are exceptions of course, but this is a deep flowing river of reality.

That’s why Boukreev warmed, rested, and drank tea.  That’s why David “strengthened himself in the Lord” prior to his battle.  That’s why Jesus went off “early in the morning to the mountains to pray”.  Whole people have resources to share, not out pride, or anger, or to create something that will fill ego needs.  Their strength of inner resources enable them to serve!  That’s the reason things like solitude, silence, moving your body, eating real food, getting enough sleep, enjoying creation, and meditation are important.  It isn’t so that you can become a dammed up narcissist.  It’s so you can fully bless and serve others.

Paul prays that our spirit, soul, and body, would be made whole!  I’m presently developing a curriculum around this theme, and know that one of the first things people will feel is that this is too self-absorbed.  My answer:  Yes, if you’re warming up, and napping, and drinking tea, just so you can stay comfortable while others die on the mountain, it’s self-absorbed.  But if your wholeness leads to service, hospitality, justice, mercy, crossing social divides, and being compassionately present with others in the midst of their suffering, then it’s a different story.  That’s the life for which you’re created:  receiving fullness, that you might be fully poured out!

I’ll be writing more on this very important subject of wholeness, and starting a podcast soon, around the subject spirit/soul/body wholeness, but the healthy pursuit of wholeness is always toward a particular end:  we seek fulness so that we might become people who shine as beacons of light, joy, compassion, hope and generosity in a world overwhelmingly governed by fear, anger, tribalism, and pettiness.  I hope you’ll join me on the journey.

 

 

Seasons of Life and Lessons in Staying and Letting Go

left to right: Martin, Director of Tauernhof, Richard, Charlie, board member of Tauernhof.

“Stay a little longer” my friend Martin invited from Austria over FaceTime last August as I was planning my teaching trip for December.  “We’re dedicating the new building the weekend after you finish teaching.  So you should stay for that.” And so it was this past Sunday, (12.9.18) sitting in a marvelous new building, I was eking out enough understanding of German to not only celebrate the great new work there, but to recommit to my own work and calling in a fresh way.

I was reminded, both in the dedication sermon and the interactions with guests, that the work of God in a locale is bigger by far than any individual.  Lacking this understanding, too many leaders develop Messiah complexes and make the work about them.  Others hang on desperately to their titles and positions out of personal fear of letting go.  Still others leave too soon out of odd ambitions, fear of conflict, or just plain laziness.  All these options are toxic, both to the work and to the individuals clinging to, or fighting for, titles.

Phil, the first principal I worked for, and David, the current principal.

I’ve been visiting this Bible school as a teacher since 1995, invited by the principal at that time, named Phil Peters.  Years later, Phil left, and Martin Buchsteiner took his place.  Then, in August of 2013, the Director of Tauernhof, my good friend Hans Peter, died in a paragliding accident.  His death came 25 years after the founding director, Gernot Kunzelmann died in a paragliding accident in 1988.  Gernot began Tauernhof 22 years earlier in a facility that began as an orphanage more than five decades before.  After Hans Peter’s death, Martin became the Director, and David Hines, a bi-lingual German who was studying at Gordon Seminary in the states, became the new principal of the Bible School.

What a joy to hear a sermon reminding us that the torch of leadership is only carried by any of us as individuals for a season and is then passed to a new generation.  Gernot to Hans Peter to Martin.  Phil to Martin to David.  The torch passes and new generations carry on the work.  The power of this was multiplied for me as I was able to share conversations with family members from each of these leaders.  Garnot’s wife Gertraud was in attendance, as was Hans Peter’s son, and of course, Martin, Phil, and David (all three Principals of the Bible School during the decades I’ve taught there).

With each leader, there’s been a beautiful carrying of the timeless torch, the message of Christ as life, embodied in both the teaching and the life of the community.  But there’s also been unique contributions from each leader, so that the whole is a reflection, like a prism, of the unique colors of Christ brought by each one.

I left the dedication ceremony and skied alone for a couple of hours, weighing what I’d heard, seen, conversed about.  So many Decembers in this space, and a few spring, summer, and fall weeks as well.  I’ve seen the changes – staffing changes, facility changes, senior leadership changes.  But at the top of the climbing wall that sits at the back of the property there’s a banner which reads, “Jesus Christ.  The same yesterday, today, and forever.”  So leaders come and go, but the essence, the declaration of Christ in a way that moves people toward body/soul/spirit wholeness, goes on – bigger than any single leader.  This, of course, is as it should be; must be if the work really belongs to God.  I exhale, and rest, finding peace in the reminder that I don’t dare hold on to any role for a day longer than I should out of fear or pride (nor a day shorter out of laziness, or conflict aversion for that matter!)  Rather, you and I are called to carry the torch of Christ into various spaces that are the contexts God has given us, and to be all in, all there, for those seasons God gives us, confident that whatever we build that has the mark of Christ will not have been a waste of days.

As I exit the gondola at the top of the ski hill, the valley rains that were my companion when I boarded the lift have turned to snow, the first real snowfall of the year.  “Ah yes” I say to myself.  “Another season has come, faithfully, finally, to the mountain.  Thanks be to God.”

I came off the mountain and settled in front of my computer to listen to a live stream of the church I lead.  I was privileged to watch one of our most recently hired pastors preach, and as I listened, I thought to myself, “yes God…your work will be fine for many years to come.”  Strangely, in the act of letting go and trusting God with the future, I felt a sense of refreshment in my own work, and vision for the future – because vision can only fill empty hands!

O Lord Christ

Thank you for the timeless nature of your work in the world, bigger than any of us.

Thank you for the privilege of carrying the torch and using our gifts for a season to bless and serve.

Forgive us for any decisions we make about the future that are rooted in greed, or fear, or pride, or laziness.

Teach us to number our days and pour ourselves out fully in them, knowing that joy will be our gift.

Teach us to say goodbye at the right time, neither too early nor too late, but only in response to You.

And we will rest in trusting You with the future of the work, knowing it was Yours all along. 

SPECIAL NOTE:  I’m happy to be speaking at the International Ski Week from March 10-16 in 2019 and you’re invited.   Ski instruction in the morning.  Free time in the afternoon for skiing, napping, touring the area, and Bible sessions/worship in the evening. Here’s the link with details and costs, and here’s a link to a few pictures from last year.

 

How Naming Your Values can Change Your Life

Did you watch the funeral of President George H.W. Bush?  If so, you saw the importance of named values on full display.  From Jon Meacham’s stirring eulogy, to his son’s warm remembrances of him as both mentor and father, the entire event was testimony to a life well lived.  Raised in privilege, President Bush recognized the gospel truth that “to whom much is given, much is required” and so lived his life as a courageous servant leader.

The sad reality, though, is that the testimonies offered that day also served as a grave reminder that courage, servanthood, generosity, and civility, are in short supply these days.  It is this way because the avalanche of cultural input conspires to enflame individualism, consumerism, pettiness, a sense of personal inadequacy, and victim mentalities.  All of these shrink our world down to survival mode, which is far cry from the abundant life Christ came to give, and the “rivers of living water” that should be flowing through us to bring water to the desert that is the 21st century.

The way forward, according to Paul, is that we be “transformed by the renewing of our minds”, because without such intentional swimming upstream, we’ll be swept into the vast cultural chasm of mediocrity and narcissism that is so evident everywhere.  I find that the creation of a personal mission statement provides a huge step toward such intentionality.  I wrote about why this matters here, and how knowing your gifts is a critical part of the process here.

More than gifts are needed though.  Hitler had gifts of eloquence.  Countless leaders have gifts of charisma to motivate, and the political savvy to build coalitions of disparate parties in order to gain power.  Gifts, by themselves, are amoral.  In order to live the life for which we’re created, we need to commit to investing our gifts in ways that build up and contribute to God’s mission in the world.  Needless to say, this isn’t the only way gifts can be used.  Our gifts can be in the pursuit of power and pleasure as easily as in pursuit of the common good, actually easier!  What’s worse, we can whitewash our ignoble pursuits with noble causes and edifying vision.  This happens in church work, politics, and the non-profit world too often, as we all know.  It’s at the root of the current climate of institutional mistrust and cynicism, and is why I often hear, “I try to follow Jesus, but the church?  No thanks…” and then they share their story of feeling used.

What’s the most important thing we can do to assure that our gifts and mission work towards uplifting, rather than destructive ends?  Spend time mining and articulating our values.  Here’s why:

Values answer the question: “to what end”? 

Why am I running, or sitting on the sofa?  Why am I reading and meditating, or calling people and planning events?  Why do I give money away, or keep it?  Why do I turn the TV off, or leave it on?  The thing is, in any given situation, either answer could be right.  Decisions between this and that must be based on values, because my values will steer my ship to the desired harbor and bring balance to my life.  Otherwise, I might run a marathon, but have children I don’t know, or be culturally literate, but spiritually unable to offer people good food, or “successful” outwardly, but inwardly, as Jesus said of some successful people in his day, “full of dead man’s bones”.

Values offer course corrections

There are times when I withdraw into family life and my gifts of writing and teaching start rusting.  I need to get back in the game!  There are times when I live a fear based life and close my heart and pocketbook too readily.  I need my courage value to guide me back to being a voice of hope.  There are times when I try to pretend I’m better than I am, but valuing brokenness enables me to look in the mirror and pursue ongoing transformation.  Deeply held values become a sort of navigation system for life, enabling shifts as the winds change, so that we reach the desired goal.

Embedded Values build Character 

We all have values, but the sad truth is that without intentionality, we will passively adopt the values of prevailing culture.  We likely won’t name them, but they’ll be ours nonetheless:  Consumerism, Individualism, Material Security, Pain Avoidance.  Our values will define our choices, and our choices will define our lives.  Without intentionality, these cultural values will prevail and one day we’ll wake up and wonder where the time went, and why haven’t we accomplished much?  The answer will be that we accomplished exactly what our values determined we should accomplish.  The problem was simply that we didn’t choose our values wisely .

As I open my “to do list” every day, I read my values.  As I do this more and more often these values become more deeply embedded in me, moving from page, to mind, to heart.  Over time, this infects decision make – not perfectly, but in some measure.   The result, I hope, is that we choose wisely, and so steward our one wild and precious life better, for having taken the time to intentionally name our values.

 

 

Time heals nothing

I’m not sure why “This is Us” even found its way into my life as a show to watch, but however it did, I’m often amazed by its power to speak to me at so many levels.  Aside from being well crafted, the show has lots of freaky parallels to my own story, enough to make me feel, at times, like I’m watching a movie of some sections of my life:

The show has an adopted child in the family – I’m an adopted child in my family.

The sister among the siblings struggles with weight  – my sister struggled with her weight.

The dad in the story dies during the adopted son’s senior year in high school – my dad died my senior year in high school.

The death of the dad overwhelms the mom.  The death of my dad overwhelmed my mom.

It just goes on and on, so that in last night’s episode, when the son who got accepted to an exclusive college called and said he was going to delay for year to stay at home and care for his mom, I felt every ounce of his pain because I also delayed my entry into an exclusive college to stay home and care for my mom for a year, a year that turned out to be one of the hardest of my life.  These episodes have had me reliving family history stuff related to weight, performance, how we dealt with conflict, sibling dynamics, marriage dynamics, parenting styles, adoption, and so much more.

Here’s the point though, for now:  Life, Art, and Revelation are, at their best, woven together in a cord, so tightly that it’s difficult to pull them apart, separating the one from the other, so that deep transformation or understanding can arise from short periods of intense revelation.  This happened in the past 24 hours with respect to the subject of time.

The leaving of the leaves is an annual reminder that we too will leave.

Life:  I’m driving east on I-90 after an intense period of work in the city: big meetings; small meetings; one on one meetings; board meetings.  I’m tired yes, but quickly brought to awe and worship as I see the maples and cottonwoods changing color, and leaves falling in the wind.  Every autumn is a reminder of both the gift and brevity of life for me.  Something about the trees losing their leaves shakes me awake, and I ask God, at least annually, at least in the fall, to empower me to live wisely, and well because I’m mindful that life is short.  An autumn will happen, someday, when I won’t be here to see it.  That’s why my hope is to keep my daily priorities more or less aligned with my mission statement.  I don’t want to get to the end of the game and realize that I’ve lived just to survive rather than serve, to consume rather than create, to gain rather than give.   “…teach us to number our days…” said the Psalmist, and yesterday the annual reminder of that prayer was in full color on the trees and in the air.

Art:  That episode last night ended with the mom owning up, for the first time, to her passivity regarding her daughter’s struggles with weight – owned up to the fact that her husband’s death, and particularly the circumstances surrounding it, left her empty, with no love to give her children.  The daughter owned some stuff too, in a real conversation that came about 25 years later than it needed to because we think that “time heals all wounds” for some stupid reason.

Right there, in the midst of that conversation, the producer embedded a profound Damien Rice song called “Older Chests” which poetically exposes how we speak out of both sides of our mouths regarding time.  On the one hand: “I’ll be fine.  I just need time” and on the other, “Everything’s falling apart as time marches on”.  He exposes the folly that time heals anything at all.  Yes, time is needed, but only time plus the hard work of forgiveness, or confession, or a next step of service or generosity, or a reconciliation of a relationship, or a naming of your addiction and getting help, or a step of brutal honesty — only those things heal.  Time, without the intervention of our next steps, just leads to decay, and ‘presenting problems’ and unchecked addictions that are either visible or hidden.

Revelation:  Then next, I read my devotions this morning, and came to this:  The conventional explanation regarding suffering is that God sends us the burden because God knows that we are strong enough to handle it, but this is all wrong. Living in a fallen world sends us the problem, not God. When we try to deal with it, we find out that we are not strong. We are weak; we get tired, we get angry, overwhelmed. . . . But when we reach the limits of our own strength and courage, something unexpected happens. We find reinforcement coming from a source outside of ourselves. And in the knowledge that we are not alone, that God is on our side, we manage to go on. (My paraphrase of a good word from Richard Rohr this morning.)

So there you have it.  A theme just keeps coming up over and over again with incredible intensity for 24 hours:  “You’re getting older Richard, and your years of enjoying autumn leaves are numbered.  Use your time wisely!”  Next up:  “Time heals nothing Richard, and that show which mirrors your life so closely exposes the steps you need to take toward community in certain relationships because time doesn’t create community – calls, and supper, and conversations, and hikes, and laughter and truth telling – these create community in time.  And finally, “There are times of suffering, but these times can be only be redeemed, not by passively riding the waves of more time, but by actively taking steps that move us to whatever we need to move toward, be it forgiveness, gratitude, dependency, truth telling, or whatever.

Time heals nothing.  And I know it better today than yesterday at this time because God speaks through falling leaves, TV shows, and text… thanks be to God.

Your “Sphere of Influence” is calling and You must go

As happens every September, there’s a feeling of newness in the air.  It’s not just the crisp morning air and footballs flying, it’s a returning from the unusual syncopations of summer activities to the more rhythmic routine of autumn. I’ve returned from vacation this year particularly refreshed and focused, and for particular reasons.  I’ve watched with growing concern as America has become increasingly polarized politically, so much that our fragmentation is becoming, more than either party’s ideology, the biggest present threat to our future.

The church hasn’t been immune to this polarizing.  We’ve mirrored the culture’s political tribal hatred, enough so that it’s increasingly rare to find people of differing political parties willing to worship together, let alone dialogue about their differences.  We then add theological layers to the debate, elevating particular ethical issues to the status of litmus tests for fellowship, while knowing full well that there are good people who love Christ and hold to a high view of scripture who hold the opposite view.  But for too many, that fact is of no consequence as they withdraw from fellowship because of “those people”.

Toss in a healthy dose of #METOO, courtesy of a NY Times article regarding a well known evangelical church, and an ever expanding sexual abuse scandal in the Catholic Church and I find myself, on my worst days, wanting to pull out completely.  John Muir said, “The mountains are calling and I must go…”.   I hear them calling too but there are two phrases, each different than Muir’s, that keep me coming to work, day after day, as I soon enter what will be my 24th year of ministry in the same place.

1. The mountains are calling and I want to go…  Of course I do.  My wife and I enjoyed our first dates on hikes and snowshoeing.  The mountains are reminders for us of so much that is true and life giving:  our smallness in the light of eternity – God’s grandiose generosity and immense creativity – glimpses, in the majesty of mountains, abundance of waters, beauty of wildlife, silence of a starry night, of life as it should be:  glorious, peaceful, interdependent, thriving.  Yes, I’ll keep getting out:  for morning runs, sabbath hikes, photography meditation walks, ski tours, and more.  I need to read God’s other book, the book of creation, as much as I need to read the Bible.  Maybe you do too.

But it’s also true that….

My sphere of influence: develop leaders and invite people to body/soul/spirit wholeness

2. My sphere of influence is calling, and I must go.  Sphere of influence is a little phrase I picked up decades ago in one of the best books I’ve ever read.  The author spoke of our sphere of concern, things about which we care, but are outside our control.  We care about politics, climate change, health care, increasing urban density in Seattle, the lazy employee on our team at work, the senior management that are incompetent, etc.  But many of these things, for most of us, are well outside our authority to fix.  Of course for some of them we can vote on, and perhaps if we’re motivated, we can and should organize as well, or do something more dramatic.  But what we shouldn’t do at all is spend time worrying, complaining, lamenting, gossiping, grumbling, whining, posting social media grenades, or being vexed, if it’s a matter outside our direct sphere of influence.  If we do we’ll be paralyzed, overcome with worry, and ultimately feel like disempowered victims.  Does that sound familiar to you?  Increasingly, the Victim card is the most popularly played card in the game of life.  But it’s often misguided and disempowering.

It’s far better for me to focus on my sphere of influence.  I’ve developed a personal mission statement, which I’ll share in the next blog post.  My goals come out of this statement, and my to do list, at my best, comes out of these goals.  That way, no matter what’s going on in Syria or Washington DC, I needn’t succumb to the anxiety, fear, anger, and hand wringing that is the soil out from which our current cultural crises are being born.  Instead, I can follow the advice of Paul when he prayed that his friends would “live a life worthy of God’s calling…”.

Be faithful on your path because nobody else can!

My commitment to you:

I have a goal this fall of using this blog  as a means of encouraging you to define, refine, and excel in your calling.  I’ll write about finding your gifts, writing your own mission statement, and developing a set of core values by which to live.  YOU CAN HELP in this process by engaging with the material, subscribing (see below), and sharing the posts you like with your friends.

I’m asking you to share the material because my hope and prayer is that more and more people will step away from the negative and cynical culture wars, disempowering victim mentalities, and disengaged cynicism, and instead live fully into their callings to be people of hope in this very difficult time.  Will you join me on the journey?

O Lord Christ…

With each headline we sense a vast machine at work, destroying some things we hold dear, no matter our party, even as those operating the machinery do so in the name of preservation.  Forgive our fears, our cynicism, our anger – all of which have blinded us to the seminal truth that each of us have a place in this world: gifts to use; neighbors and children and enemies to love; our own souls to nurture toward wholeness; joy to impart.  May we get on with it, each of us, in our spheres of influence, doing whatever our hands find to do, with all our might.  And we’ll thank you for the joy, and privilege, and adventure of it – in Jesus name.

Amen

Let the Journey Begin – An invitation to travel to the Alps with me

“Life is either a daring adventure or it is nothing at all” is how Helen Keller put it.  She’s was onto something, surely.  When Dave Matthews mused about the “Ants Marching” in his masterful music some years ago, it seemed to me he was pondering a sort of inevitable decay into a ritual of breakfast, commute, work, commute, supper, exhaustion, repeat.  There are surely forces at work in the systems that are western civilization contributing to this dismal picture.  However, I’d suggest that Jesus wants to infuse our normal daily existence with Divine Life so that in the midst of whatever it is we’re doing, the source of wisdom, joy, hope, mercy, justice, generosity, compassion, and service that is Christ bubbles up from deep within.  What’s more, this kind of life is available to us every single day, even the mundane ones, the unchosen periods of suffering, the challenges.

I needed to leave my job for three months and trek through the Alps to learn this lesson, and learn I did, and I’m thrilled to share my adventures with you in my new book The Map is not the Journey: Faith Renewed While Hiking the Alps”.  The death of my close friend in a paragliding accident in the Alps came just at a point in my career where I was beginning to question the future.  The convergence of these elements led, a year later, to my wife and I doing a 40 day, 400 kilometer trek through the Alps.  Beginning in Italy, we went on to experience the Alps in Austria, Germany, Switzerland, and Liechtenstein.  Lessons learned there, along with all the adventure of it (yes, we did walk into our private room one night to find a couple sleeping in our bed!) are found in this new offering, now available at Amazon and fine booksellers.  Each chapter includes a link to photos from the stories of that chapter, in hopes that you’ll experience the trip we took in a small way too.

It’s a book for everyone who’s wondering what’s next, at any age.  

It’s for those whose lives have turned out differently than they’d expected.  

It’s for those who are tired, and looking a fresh infusion of life in their daily routine. 

It’s for those who have set goals that they failed to meet.  

It’s for those who want to learn about hut to hut travel in the Alps, or long range hiking.  

In short – I hope it’s for a lot of people! 

Here’s a little video teaser I made on my iphone.

You can help this book succeed in a few simple ways:

If you think you know people who might like it, share your purchase, or this blog post, on your social media.  Thanks!

Reviews on Amazon are always helpful.  Thanks!

What some have said who’ve read it:

Denny Rydberg – President Emeritus of Young Life . “For those feeling fatigue after years of faithfully doing the same thing, for those looking for new eyes to see what God is doing and has on his mind, and for those who need a jolt of adventure, this is the book to read.” 

Les Parrott, PHD – “If your spirit is weary or your faith is running dry, this book is like a refreshing drink from an alpine spring.  Richard paints incredible word pictures and takes you on a compelling journey of transformation.”  

Jim Zorn (former NFL coach and player) – “Richard’s travels aren’t just good stories of adventures.  They’re also instructive on how unexpected everyday experiences can shape us to become better people.  Those looking to find transformation in the commonplace will benefit from this book.”  

Please share this post if you think others would benefit from the book.  Thanks!

 

Are you running to Win?

“Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but only one receives the prize? Run in a such a way that you may win…”

You are God’s uniquely handcrafted beautiful creation.  You have gifts to bring to our darkening and weary world, and that means you weren’t just put here to survive, or have a few grand adventures of your own.  You were put here to bless; to pour your life out onto the canvass of this world in the colors of hope, in an artistry that’s yours alone.

So get on with it.

Run to win.  

Get over the mentalities of scarcity which define survival and a hefty stash of cash as the win because God knows that the world is full of people who have more than enough food, money, water, and activities, but who are utterly missing the life for which they’re created.

You’re not made to survive and consume, though you’ll do both, throughout your days.  You’re made to thrive and bless and serve.  Abundant Life is what Jesus called it.  Don’t settle for anything less.

Run to win.  

Flush your fears of thermonuclear war, political insanity down the toilet, and quit arguing, or worrying, about who stands or sits during the national anthem of a football game . You have no control of any of this.

Focus instead on what you’re going to be doing with your “one wild and precious life” because if you waste your days in fear and worry, you’re not just cheating yourself out of joy, peace, and meaning – you’re cheating the rest of us too.  The world needs what you have to offer.

Find your gift (is it teaching, healing, serving, walking with those who are suffering, empowering, creating…?) and spend your life developing your precious gifts so that you can be a blessing to others.

If you already know your gift then for God’s sake (literally – for God’s sake) turn off the TV, set aside the video games, let go of the petty tie suckers, and get on with using it.

Run to win.  

Paul the Apostle said that he disciplines his body, so that at the end of his life he’ll be confirmed to have been a participant in the abundant life Jesus offers, not just a spectator, or worse, an armchair quarterback who knows Jesus, justice, hospitality, confession, risk, love, service…but only as theory.

Run to win.  

I woke up one morning recently, having had a moment in a dream where my own moments of self-pity, petty indulgences, cynical judgement, time wasted in social media political grenade lobbing, and the paralysis of an absurd self-pity (in spite of all the blessings I enjoy) marched past my bed like characters in a parade.  Each one filled me with regret and I woke with a start, in the middle of the night – praying to God that I’d create no more of these subtle, yet despicable characters the rest of my days.  “Rather” I prayed, “may I run to win – continually receiving your revelation from creation, friendships, text, and trials” and “may I pour my life out, using my gifts to love, serve, and bless”

Are you running to participate?

Are you running when it’s convenient?

Are you running at all?

Run to win. 

 

Steal, Kill, and Destroy – Killing Hope

 

Even the desert will bloom…

Note: I’m presently offering a short series of the many ways in which our enemy seeks to steal, kill, and destroy the life for which we’re created.  At this moment in history, many are at grave risk of losing hope.  Here’s help:

If hope is a longing for a better world, then hope is a flag firmly planted in almost every human soul.  Sharin Sabestari is an example of a woman whose heart stirred with a deep and hopeful longing. She shares her story of growing up in war torn Iran and going into the mountains on hikes and climbs with her father….

Sharin Sabestari as a child in the mountains of iran

“I remember the sirens blaring and the bombs rumbling in the distance.  When we ran under our basement stairs in a blackout, I was too young to understand…  (But) I knew that soon Dad and I would be off again to the mountains, where there we no sirens and no bombs, only a world of wonders:  porcupine spines and snakeskins to collect, trees to climb, rocks to scramble.  The realm of butterflies and streams and wind…”  (Alpinist.  Vol. 58)

The beauty of creation instills hope, at any age, in any time and place.  It’s a hope that we’re not made to live amongst bombs and air raid sirens, terror and war.  We’re made for beauty, made for peace, made for fellowship.  Sharin learned this in the mountains.  For others hope is awakened at the sea, or at sunset while walking through a field, or in a circle of friends around a campfire, or in a concert hall filled with the sounds of Schubert, or Mozart, or U2.

“Deep calls to deep” is how the Bible says it, and there are some of us who believe that beauty and peace are like signed and sealed invitations from God:  “Dear Sharin… May you enjoy this gift of the mountains I’ve made, with all their flowing streams, fresh breezes ripe with the scent of pine, and gorgeous views.  You’re invited to enjoy more of my gifts and find the rich life I’ve created for you to enjoy.  Love, God.”

I’m on solid ground for believing that the first thing we should learn about God is that God’s given good gifts to humans.  Romans 2 tells us that “God’s kindness is intended to lead us to repentance” which is just another way of saying that God’s kindness is an invitation for us to move away from a life without God, to a life with God – as guide, companion, friend, provider, healer, and lover.

If all this intimacy is the fruit of taking a step towards God because of the presence of hope and beauty, it stands to reason that our enemy, who comes only to steal, kill, and destroy, would seek to steal hope and beauty.  Knowing how this happens will help us  fan both hope and beauty into flame in our lives once again, to the end that others will see them and perhaps make a move toward the Source of it all.

Hope is stolen through misdirection.  “We’d hoped it would be the war to end all wars.”   “We’d hoped Obama would bring hope and change.”  “We’d hoped Trump would “drain the swamp”.  “We’d hoped our offer, 100k above asking price, would have gotten us a house.”  “We’d hoped the medical test would have been negative”.

They all make sense, of course, these hopes we have.  We hope for the future to turn out a certain way in countless areas over which we have no control.   The problem with all these forms of hope, though, is that they are highly contingent on events outside our control.  It’s fine to “hope” and be disappointed.  The problem comes when our meaning and identity became so yoked to our vision of the future, that any shortfall undoes us utterly.   These are the people “driven to drink, or abuse, or worse” when there’s an affair.  These are the people killing themselves when the stock market crashes.  These are millions who simply haven’t found a way to cope with the dissonance between how they’d “hoped” life would be, and how its actually turned out.   The landscape of humanity is littered with countless tragedies precisely because of unrealized hope, and our response to dashed dreams.

Some chime in at this point, and say, “The answer is simple.  Hope for nothing, and you’ll never be disappointed.”  Perhaps.  But neither will you know hope or joy, and the fruit that blossoms in such an arid environment is always depressing.  Just ask Ernest Hemingway, or Kurt Cobain.   Despair is around us, even among people who “hoped for nothing”.

The better way is to recognize that “hope” isn’t actually a sort of “wishful thinking” that is rooted in a desire for things to be a certain way in our lives.   Real hope is solid.  The word might even be translated “confident expectation” in the Bible, because it’s rooted in the promises of God.

God is promising a world without war, without cancer, a world of reconciled nations, and justice, a world of matchless beauty, intimacy, deliverance from enslaving addictions and, infusing every breath of our future:  joy!  I believe history is headed in that direction.  This is my confident expectation, my hope.   “What makes you so sure?” you might ask?

Two things, at least.  First, I believe in the resurrection of Christ, which is a sort of down payment on that hope.  It might sound fantastical, but make no mistake, the world is filled with thoughtful people who believe the evidence is on the side of Jesus rising.

Second, Sharin’s experience in the mountains couldn’t help but lead her to long for more of it.  It was the place her “hair could be uncovered and roam free.”  It was the place of wild horses.  It was beauty.  It was “as it should be”, and because of this, “hope” was born.

But the longings of her heart won’t be answered by Tehran embracing democracy, or Isis, capitalism or socialism.  In the end, every “ism” of this world over-promises and under-delivers.  It misplaces hope, seducing us into believing that it is the headwaters of a better world.  Every time, the tribe of the disillusioned increases, including when people put their faith in the institution of Christianity.

Our hope isn’t in any ‘ism’.  Our hope is in Christ, and because he is likened to a “solid rock”, we then have a hope that can never be shaken .   Having this hope enables us to live as people of courage and integrity, grace and mercy, generosity and peace.  We view every foretaste of glory seen in perfect powder, mountain sunrises, and the bracing cold waters of a mountain lake as foretastes of eternity; and we give thanks; and worship.  This is as it should be.

Got Hope?

If the object of your hope is Christ, the answer is a resounding yes.

All other “hopes” are forgeries, and I’m sorry to say, your real hope’s been stolen.   Why not take it back right now?

O Lord Christ – 

We thank you for the pains in our hearts that stab with every new discovery of corruption, every new lie from people in power, every new report of another friend dying of cancer.   We cry out, and weep, and lament – because at some profound level we know that we’re made for more than this, other than this.  

Forgive us for hoping in superficial solutions to the brokenness of our world, and the brokenness of our hearts.  May you be our sole source of satisfaction, our only rock and foundation.   And, filled with the confidence of your power and plan to heal the world, would you make us people of hope.  

Amen.