Running a Half Marathon: Hope, Justice, and Friendship Converge

Nearly two months ago I ran a half marathon. It was one of the most exhausting, physically and mentally challenging, and beautiful things I have participated in. Not because the hot day or 13.1 miles were particularly that scenic (though there were some great moments along the way), but it was a convergence of friendship, hope, reflection, and justice.

The last 6 months have been some of the busiest of my entire life. My wife and I bought our first house, found out we were expecting another little boy, realized that we didn’t have adequate insurance, had to move out of our apartment because our new house took too long to build, wrote a book, raised a hilarious and compassionate 2-year old, lived with my in-laws for four months (which went really, really well), amongst the normal things of our jobs, raising a family, enjoying our marriage, and more.

I don’t say any of that to sound impressive, and if you saw my running times for the half marathon, you’ll see and know, there’s not much to be impressed about...unless of course you have the keen perspective to see it a benefit to be able to run a half marathon for the entire duration of a Godfather movie. Instead, I wanted to say that I had every reason not to want to run, and many days my body tried to convince me that the major chaffage and general smell of my shoes in cooperation with the business of my life would make it stupid to even try to run a half marathon.

So when Jamie sent out an email to myself and some college friends taunting us with his bulging calves and promise of lapping us in the running of the Historic Half Marathon in Fredericksburg, VA I laughed of course. And promptly thought that I’d send in a couple of bucks to help them as they looked to raise fund through running these races for their adoption process.

But how could I look into the face of Jamie Berry, well at least read the hilarity of his blog, and think that I could not support the former college housemate and founder of the famous wrestling move called “The Fishook” and not try to help out? In the midst of all the craziness of my life, the half marathon provided some much needed space, and best of all I could actually participate in helping good friends and great people participate in practicing justice, of joining with God in making things right in the world as they are seeking to adopt a sibling group from the 5 million orphans currently living in Ethiopia.

What I didn’t expect, when I told Jamie that I’d run and help him raise money to help offset the costs of the adoption, is that through the training and running of the race, that I’d be changed through the process as well, and that it would be such an emotional and powerful experience for me personally. But as I trained and ran the race, and found myself inhabiting quieter spaces, enjoying the beautiful hills of VA, and thinking about my family, the future hope of Jamie and Misty’s new family, and the joy of what that day will be like when these children will have a home, I began to realize to new depths the significance of what Jamie and Misty are doing together through adoption.

As I slowly crossed the finish line, and trust me, it was slowly, and my pregnant wife, extended family, and thousands of other people who I didn’t know cheered me on, I was reminded of the vision of what heaven may be like: when all people, in all of our glorious differences, with our different languages, experiences, nationalities and more, can be together and have a home where there is no more sorrow or pain, no more hunger or thirst, and no more orphans.

So, as I crossed the finish line, with tears welling up, I was reminded of the powerful significance of what Jamie and Misty are doing, as they are bringing into reality, for their part of the story, the vision of heaven here on earth. And though the next couple of days I could barely walk up or down stairs, and the chaffage made me scream when I tried to take showers, I couldn’t help but smile and laugh, and even cry when I think about the joy that Jamie and Misty will give as they become a new family with the orphans they will adopt; but I think that I also smile, laugh and cry, thinking about the joy, hope, and change that these once orphans and now sons and daughters will bring about in Jamie and Misty.

I thought that I was the one helping Jamie and Misty out, to raise money, spread awareness, and get my butt kicked by some streets near a college that wait-listed me even though “they really wanted more men to apply to help raise gender equality at the school (blah blah blah blah blah).” And I think I may have helped some. But honestly, I was so glad that Jamie and Misty have invited others and me to share in their journey and story of helping orphans halfway around the world become sons and daughters.

Thanks for letting this slow guy run and participate in such a great act of justice and hope as you raise funds and eventually adopt orphans from Ethiopia. If you’ve read this far, take a minute and see if you can’t support my friends as they move through this adoption process. Whether financially, you can donate here. Or by sending funny pictures for the blog, you can send them to Jamie here. Or by asking Jamie and Misty how you might be able to do something where you live or with them to help. Not only might it change your life, but it will certainly change the lives of a group of siblings looking to become part of a family, and that is a great place to have hope and justice converge.

Thanks for including me friends.
Josh Hayden

40 Days of Water

This Lent I am going to be both giving up and putting some things into action. On the personal side of things, I am going to be reading through Peter Rollins newest book The Orthodox Heretic, which is a collection of parables exploring themes of justice, love, the nature of God, and much more. If you buy the book during Lent, Paraclete Press will email you an additional 7 parables so that you can read one parable per day for 40 days. I probably won't blog about it every day, but I am really excited to read the new book and to be shaped by the power of story.

Something I am really excited about is the 40 Days of Water with Blood Water Mission. Over the next 40 days I am going to be drinking water and donate the money I would have spent on other beverages to Blood Water Mission. This amazing organization provides access to clean drinking water to people in Africa who are in need. They are amazing with their donations and are great people.

As I look at the picture of Rowan (my son) above, it is hard for me to think that there are millions of kids, many his age or younger who lack the basic access to clean water. I simply can't imagine what must be like for those children and those parents who watch their children suffer.

I imagine there will be a few times that I have to break the fast for work, but for my personal time I will definitely be trying to consume nothing other than water. My friends over at Wordswell designed this awesome new site and helped shape the campaign for Blood Water Mission. It looks amazing. If you decide to join me and many of my friends for 40 Days of Water, you can sign up and get your own personal website to help you track the drinks you are giving up and the amount you'd like to donate. You can follow me here: http://40days.bloodwatermission.com/joshhayden.

Take a moment and think about joining me on the 40 Days of Water campaign to support Blood Water Mission!

didn't expect that

I've been widdling down the number of emails in my inbox after the insaneness that was November and December, and tonight I came upon an email that jostled me. It is the obituary of a mentor, friend, adviser, professor, and much more who was the 70-year old spark that opened the door for theological inquiry, openness to new ideas, and a belief that I was capable of something great. Rev. Dr. William Thomas helped to change the course of my direction of life, as he simply entertained a question about a then unknown theologian to me Karl Barth, and whose Philosophy 101 class forever opened my mind to the mystery of God, humanity, and the complexity of life.

The next class that we had after I had asked him a seemingly small question on Barth, led to a brown paper bag sitting on my desk with a few new, great smelling books that he hoped would continue to help me ask more questions, keep up the conversation, and spur me on towards greater learning. Over the four years in college, and the next four years afterwards, we kept in touch, meeting occasionally for a meal, to discuss my going to seminary, to meet other prominent professors, to introduce Shey to some fantastic art historian, or just to catch up...he always listened, and he helped me to believe in myself in ways that I had never believed in myself before. He asked great questions, and he somehow kept ahead of the curve theologically, and was in tune with a broad swath of conversations and theological discussions across the spectrum.

Dr. Thomas passed away the right before I graduated from seminary, and the news was sent to me while Shey was in the hospital, in the middle of some of the worst weeks of my life thus far. To be honest, I haven't even begun to process the hole that is in my life now that he is gone. His death represents so much more than simply an absence of guidance, great questions, and insight...his absence is sorely missed as I evaluate Ph.D. programs, read a new theologian, or simply need a helpful voice to speak into my life. I know that I wasn't the only one impacted by this generous, humble, and kind man, he had a way of impacting every student in one way or another that he came in contact with.

So as I read tonight:

The Rev. Dr. William W. Thomas, Honorably Retired pastor

The Rev. Dr. William W. Thomas, age 74 and Honorably Retired pastor, died on Saturday, May 24, 2008, at the Bridgewater Nursing Home in Bridgewater, VA. Dr. Thomas was a longtime resident of Harrisonburg and retired from James Madison University as a full professor in the Department of Philosophy and Religion in 1997. Since then, he taught at JMU on a part-time basis and continued his involvement with the students, faculty and staff at JMU. Prior to teaching at JMU, he taught summer sessions at Bridgewater College.

He was the last survivor of his immediate family. The Rev. Thomas Reynolds will conduct a graveside service at 2 p.m. Tuesday, May 27, at St. Matthew's Cemetery adjacent to Reformation Lutheran Church in New Market, VA.

Memorial contributions may be made to Bridgewater Nursing Home or Bridgewater College, Bridgewater, Va.

from an email that I can't get myself to take out of my inbox, I was jostled a bit, because Dr. Thomas' life has left a lasting handprint into the very way that I see the world, and his generosity, kindness, humility, challenge, and strong spirit I know lives with me as I try to live and learn as he taught me. The truth is: I miss him. In the midst of the pain of watching Shey and Rowan fight to make it, I simply ran out of tears to cry, and so tonight, as the tears well up, I know that it wasn't because I didn't care then, that is when I first heard, that I didn't cry. It was because I had nothing else to give.

So tonight, Dr. Thomas, as we come closer to celebrate Rowan's two years of life in June, we will also remember you, and pray that we can spur on and spark in Rowan the joy of God, life, theology, hope, and curiosity that you worked so hard to create and cultivate in both Shey and I. Thank you for believing in me and helping me to believe that with some hard work, we can grow, learn, and open our minds to amazing things if we are just willing to listen and be open to the great diversity of ways that God can work in the world.

8/5/2010

We are expecting Baby Hayden #2 somewhere near August 5, 2010. The new addition to the family was a surprise to Shey and I (to say the least!), and we are getting more excited, but for a while we've just been overwhelmed. In light of recent events in Massachusetts, and the ongoing discussions about health care in our country, I thought I might add a personal story to the mix.

After Shey's difficult and complicated pregnancy, delivery, and Rowan's early troubles, we had a difficult time getting insurance for both Shey and Rowan. Rowan was added to my policy at the church after an initial appeal, but Shey was denied twice. They advised us to reapply after six months to a year, and thought that without any other complications she would be fine to get coverage. During the next year, we kept coverage for Shey through COBRA which is anything but cheap, stretching our budget a good bit, but we worked things out. We reapplied this past summer and Shey was denied coverage again on the plan with Rowan and me.

So we pursued an individual policy for Shey through Anthem Blue Cross and Blue Shield (the same company I was on with Rowan, and the same company that Shey was on through her school) and she got coverage. Weird isn't it? As part of the policy, we had to pick up a maternity rider, the rules being that Shey could not become pregnant within the first six months of coverage or they would not cover the pregnancy costs. We made it 4 1/2 months. We weren't trying to get pregnant, but apparently being careful doesn't always work!

So, not only were we faced with the prospect of a major change in our family, which is surprising, but we could certainly grow more excited...but we then had to face what seemed like overwhelming obstacles of trying to figure out how we are going to cover the costs of all of the medical expenses. Pre-natal visits, labor, delivery, hospital costs, estimated between $10-15,000. Add to this that Shey must also be on a prescription of Lovenox shots, twice/day, with an estimated cost of $3,000/month. And oh yeah, we are in the middle of buying a house! And while we've saved some money by renting and living in people's basements, we don't have that much money...I'm a youth pastor and my wife was a teacher for four years before Rowan. Basically the conservative estimated medical costs (shots for 10 months, pre-natal, labor/delivery, and then a normal hospital stay) would be my entire salary for one year.

So most of December was spent trying to finish up teaching, finish my book, and then figure out how to cover some of the upcoming medical expenses. We found out that I make too much to qualify for Medicaid, but not enough to pay for all the expenses outright, so as you can imagine we were freaking out a bit.

Thankfully, the folks over at the company who make Lovenox (Sanofi Aventis) have a program for those who are underinsured or uninsured, and they have given us a 3-month supply of shots for free, and as long as I don't get a raise, and we should continue to be able to qualify for the program. Next, there is a Baptist Minister's Relief Fund of Virginia that is in the process of helping us figure out some things. I just got an email yesterday, and am going to talk with someone about negotiating with the price of the hospital stay for Shey.

We've played by the rules, we've been decent people, we've paid taxes, we've never lost coverage for health insurance, and we've done of good job of staying pretty healthy, but at the time when we needed solid coverage and health insurance, it hasn't worked. We are certainly thankful for the other organizations and even for the drug company (even though it is the steep prices that caused much of the problem in the first place), and of course our families will never let us starve or foreclose on our new house...but the healthcare system didn't work for us. And we aren't poor, and are educated, and have access to information that many other folks don't have, to at least explore other means of help.

I'm not going to say that Obama's plan is the only viable option, or that I know all the answers; because I don't. But I thought that our story is one that helps highlight the need for change and reform. If we can't get reasonable coverage or coverage when we need it the most, and we are in the middle class or even wealthy compared to many families who are without jobs or whose lives have been devastated by lack of coverage earlier, it seems like change might be a good thing.

We knew that the system was messed up after the last pregnancy and birth of Rowan, and their hospital bills without insurance would have been about $90,000/person respectively (and that's nothing compared to some of our other friends who have had more serious problems or Shey's sister who suffered through a car accident and was hospitalized for nearly a year).

I guess I wanted to add my voice to the discussion, because it is easy to think about healthcare as a political issue (which it certainly is), but it is also really easy to demonize people who disagree with you on the issue. I simply wanted to share our story about how the current healthcare system is not working for us. Thankfully, the community of faith, and our family are supporting us and helping us figure some things out, but many people are not so lucky.

So as you discuss healthcare reform or change, or talk about how the "Dem's" are trying to make us all socialists, or how the "Rep's" need to stop having tea parties and start offering other solutions, I hope that we can try to help others see beyond the political spin machine and remember that there are real people whose lives are being dramatically altered and changed, and perhaps forever changed depending on the results of the healthcare discussion. We know ours is.

bumps and bruises

Rowan took his first spill tonight where he got a good bump and bruise on his head, plus a good cut with some blood. No fun. He actually didn't freak out very much; I think Shey and I were probably more surprised and worried to see his response than he was himself. But we didn't make any loud or surprising gasps at the sight of blood, and he calmed down in less time than a temper tantrum.

I've spent a good part of the last few months thinking about hope, in both preparing to write and in writing the book on sacred hope for students. It forced me to take a look at some of the bumps and bruises of the last couple of years, and some of the deeper wounds that are still healing from years past. Rowan is going to have a bump for a couple of weeks probably, and will have a little mark for probably months. All from climbing up on his play kitchen, slipping, and then bumping his head on the corner of our buffet.

I am just finally able to start talking about in any meaningful way about some of the traumatic experiences of the last year and a half, and yet we already have some new challenges that have arisen while finishing the book. I keep looking for a pause button somewhere; a place or time where I can catch my breath, slow down, and recharge, but so far we haven't found that place yet.

I suppose it is like advent: the waiting, the anticipation, the longing. Anticipation is a difficult emotion and means of life. It necessitates a hope in the present while also implying a hope in the future. It is really hard to live in those tensions. Not to mention the bumps and bruises along the way. Sometimes the bumps and bruises are actually cuts much deeper though, and take much longer to heal than I want to admit. I know that I haven't wanted to admit the pain still exists and affects me. In some ways, I'm just learning how to speak again.

I hope this means that I will figure out how to be a better husband and dad, to find a rigorous hope that helps me to live into the present with greater awareness of the future. The bumps and bruises are always scary at first, but they heal quickly; it is learning how to gain feeling back into the places where there were deep wounds and gashes that take time, silence, and perseverance.

country music and painting

I was born in Louisville, Kentucky. After three years in the bluegrass state I lived in rural Appomattox, Virginia. My parents used to even make fun of me for my country twang. But I never liked country music at all. Everyone listened to it growing up (except my parents) and I hated it.

When I started painting in college, I was told that it was simply inappropriate to not listen to country music while painting. I disagreed. Then alt-country became hip, indie-fied, and good. It became the new necessary music to listen to while painting.

Also, in the winter, I find it essential to listen to heavier, darker, more complex music. You'd think I'd get enough grey in the cold winter with short days. But apparently I do not.

In November I painted a lot of hours to earn a few extra bucks getting ready to buy a house in a really short period of time and this album by The Avett Brothers became indispensable.

Put all this together (painting+country music+winter) and The Avett Brothers new album I and Love and You simply can't get enough plays on my iPod. It is one of my favorite albums of the year, and is an album that I can't get enough of right now.

It's not all dark and depressing all the time, but it is always good. You should probably check out this video for the title track I and Love and You. So, so good.

hello world!

2010. How did we get here? It has a been a remarkable and remarkably busy end to 2009 for the family and me. I really can't believe how fast it went and all the new experiences we had. We are in the process of buying/building a house in Old Town Warrenton right now. We have loved living out in the country, and there are a lot of things we are going to miss terribly, including the family we currently live with, but overall, we are quite excited to live back in town. It will make for some easier playdates for Rowan and Shey, and will decrease some of commuting times to most everything. We are three blocks from Main Street in Old Town Warrenton, and only four blocks from our first apartment. This means we are only a couple of blocks from the farmer's market, the great local food and shops in Old Town, and close to parks, friends, and work. We are buying a brand new home with a good start on some helpful environmentally-friendly characteristics. We honestly never thought we'd be able to buy a house in town, much less a brand new home, which we got to pick out a lot of the options, and is all sitting on half an acre on a side street with little traffic and lots of trees! We are so excited!

On the personal side of things I taught my first class ever, Christian Theology I, in the diploma program at The John Leland Center for Theological Studies. This was a test run for me...a much cheaper (in fact I got paid for it!) way of figuring out if I'd like to pursue a Ph.D. some day. I had a great time. It was a stretch to make it happen while working a full-time job, but the experience and the opportunity was too good to pass up. It was amazing to sit on the other side of the classroom, and have the privilege of being there as folks realize a new way of thinking about God, life, and theology; or to be a part of helping them ask better questions, or rid themselves of some unhelpful theologies. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and am looking forward to teaching Christian Theology II this spring semester.

I also officiated my first wedding a couple of weeks ago for one of Shey's cousins, and it was also a great time. Stressful at points, mostly because we were all trying to figure out how to best bring all of the details together, but when it was all said and done, it was a great time. Good food, family, friends, and two people eager to begin a new phase of their journey of life together.

Lastly, and everything isn't all said and done quite yet, but I turned in last week a manuscript for a book titled Sacred Hope for an organization in Kansas City called Barefoot Ministries, which is under the Nazarene Publishing House. It is written and geared towards students, and aimed at helping them interactively engage with the theology of hope: hope for tomorrow and hope for today. It is a short book, most likely in the 60-75 page range. I haven't received word yet if the manuscript has been accepted, so I haven't gotten my hopes totally up yet! Either way, it has been a wonderful process and a great opportunity to try to write a book. I'll keep you posted on how things work out.

I have been writing a lot for the book, and thus not writing much many other places. But writing so much over the last few months has sparked in me the desire to kick up some dust in the blog again. I forgot how much I loved writing until I was writing the book. I think the hardships surrounding Rowan's birth and Shey's back in tandem with graduating from seminary did a bigger number on me creatively, theologically, and emotionally than I was probably honest with myself about, and it showed in my lack of writing. I just wasn't at a place where I could simply be, and be in such a way where I could write transparently, even if only for myself.

So here's to 2010 and to more writing. Just in time to coincide with reading more poetry too. Love it.

great thoughts from Phyllis Tickle

This is one of the best posts I have read in a long time. What do you think the new question will be? Do you think this is a critical time of change in the church?

hope in suffering

I have been thinking about hope a lot lately, for a lot of reasons, namely that my son Rowan just turned one about a month ago, and that I was recently asked to write a book for students on hope in the near future with a cool publishing house out in Kansas City (more on all this when some of the details get worked out, and it becomes official). But mostly because this past year saw some difficult experiences that have taken a long time for me to spend time sitting in, reflecting on, and let change me. I can't begin to describe the amount of hours that Shey and I have spent in conversation, tears, prayer, silence, and even yelling as the pressure that suffering caused erupted into our lives.

When Rowan was born June 10, 2008, Shey had already been in the hospital for over a week with intense back pain that the doctors had been attributing to Rowan pressing on Shey's sciatic nerve, but actually was the fruition of an infection developed in the bone of her spine which was also causing severe inflammation in the muscles near the infection and dramatic pain. Watching and being with Shey as the pain intensified for over a month prior to Rowan's birth, and especially right before and after his birth...all while the doctors tried to figure out just what was actually happening, were some of the most difficult days of my short life. And then, when Rowan was born with pneumonia and air trapped outside of his lungs causing him to breathe poorly along with being premature and a few other issues, the suffering intensified into new heights. Not to mention that for the first four days of Rowan's life, Shey and Rowan were in different hospitals, literally forcing me to choose between the two of them as they took up residence 1 1/2 hours apart. After three weeks in hospitals, both Shey and Rowan would come home: Shey, barely able to move on her own, with months of slow therapy, and a lot of medicinal treatment to go; Rowan, as good as new, and a toughness to complement his easy-going personality.

There were many other hardships during those three weeks at the hospital, and certainly plenty when we made it back home, but I am not writing tonight to try to spell out all of the suffering or to make anyone have pity for me or our situation at that time. In fact, Shey has known plenty of other suffering with her only sister suffering the traumatic effects of a brain injury suffered in a car accident nearing 10 years ago. I've stood at the bedside of a student with her parents as she breathed a final breath after a battle with brain cancer at only 16. We've got close friends whose newborn has already had multiple heart surgeries, and have been greatly encouraged and impressed with their tenacity, hope, and resilience. All this to say: both Shey and I know that everyone has or will experience suffering in their life. We aren't special, we don't have any claim to fame, or even believe that we handle things like this perfectly.

But I process and reflect through writing. And I have been shying away from writing about this for a long time. Not because I haven't wanted to...but because I wanted to let the experience of last year to sink in. To try to desperately to hear the still, quiet voice of God in the suffering and hardships of the past year. To let the silence fill my heart. To let my silence give room to hear the community of people around me, and to spend my time processing things deeply with the close family and friends who gave ears to listen, and wisdom to share. And I wanted to spend this past year with my new family. Shey and I have been together for a long time now, and there was a lot we wanted to process together, and enjoy together with the new addition to our family. Not to mention, for the last three years, I had been going to seminary full time plus working full time at the church, so I wanted to take a year to slow down, enjoy living out in the country, spend time with Shey and Rowan, and heal up a bit.

I'd like to post some thoughts on hope in suffering, and how I've worked through some of the dark periods of my life, not really for any other reason than that it is time, it is time for me to speak about it out loud to others, so as to name the suffering and reflect upon the hope found in suffering. Not hope because of suffering, not hope caused or brought on by suffering, but hope in suffering. Maybe later I will unpack all that theologically. But not right now.

I was reading over an email recently I sent to two close friends at a pinnacle of the hospital stay, as it was one of those emails that just comes out, like when you have to throw-up whether you want to or not...and I can remember a couple of words from the email, and weeping as I wrote. I wept because I had nothing to give, nothing that I was holding back, and I knew these two guys would be there and had already been there to listen. To hear me. To give ears, hearts, hands, and knees to the pain they both were watching me and my family experience, and go through with us too, as they shared in depths of the darkness with us. And the next morning, when I finally talked to and/or saw those guys, I experienced in a new way why Jesus necessarily had to come to earth. Why Jesus had to be a person, a living breathing, blood-in-the-veins, scraped hands, dirty feet, smelly of a person: namely, because hope is always embodied. Hope takes shape. Hope in some distant place isn't the grandest hope to me, hope found in others helps to give life meaning and possibility when suffering seems to be closing every door. And those two guys in numerous ways embodied hope and made it real, being living light in the stormy clouds of life's grey shadows.

And hope took shape when our families surrounded us, or my parents hopped on a plane the moment I called them for help. Or when moms, friends, kind nurses, or family stayed with Shey or with Rowan when I couldn't be with one of them. Hope embodied is the best hope of all. It is the perfect blend of hope that changes the present and the future. Hope embodied in voices singing to my son when I couldn't hold his hand, hope embodied in friends who helped Shey to laugh when tears had been the only words spoken, or friends who let the silence speak...and simply were present with us in that silence that speaks a thousand words without a sound ever being made. Or kind emails, voicemails, hospital visits, flowers, all signs, markers, reminders of a hope made real. This isn't some pie-in-the-sky hope. This isn't some "well one day things will be better hope." This is hope eternal changing the present reality. This is embodied hope that changed me. That gave hope in suffering, because it was embodied in others, when I couldn't find it in myself, or have the eyes to see it.

Does this mean that there isn't hope for the future, or that embodied hope is the only kind of hope? Surely not. But the embodied hope of today, is a marker, a sign, a cosmos-altering way of being in the world that actually makes a difference. As Jesus says so beautifully in teaching us to pray, "May God's will be done on earth as in heaven," amen. Amen. Hope embodied is hope that can illuminate the darkness of suffering. It doesn't remove the pain of suffering, or make anything easy. But it is real. And it is present.

pluralism and portable faith

There is a great post over on Pomomusings in Adam Walker Cleaveland's series on Pluralism 2.0 that has brought a host of great writers, thinkers, bloggers, theologians and more to discuss what it means to be in a Christian in a time of profound religious interaction and discussion amongst a variety of faith traditions in our country and world. And this post by Brian McLaren helps to ask some of the most important questions that I believe Christians should be asking today. The two paragraphs that I think if most of McLaren's critics read would settle a lot of the bickering, and also I think pointedly address faith in our current context:

"At the end of the day, I know myself to be an evangelist at heart. I believe the good news of Jesus Christ is good news for all people. I am eager to offer the gift of Jesus and his good news to all people, whatever their religion. I am eager to help all people, whatever their religious identity, to “taste and see” how good God is, and to take on Jesus’ yoke so we will experience together his meekness and gentleness of heart. I am not a relativist in the sense of believing that beliefs don’t matter and that all viewpoints are equally valid or invalid.

But my confidence is in Jesus and his gospel - my confidence is not in us and our religious systems or institutions. I don’t think any religion - including my own - “owns” Jesus or has proprietary rights on his gospel of the kingdom of God. The good news taught by and embodied in Jesus is, I am discovering, far better than the half-good/half-bad version many of us were taught."

So tonight the youth are meeting for a mini-retreat called "Creating a Portable Faith." We are keeping with the traditional get a new t-shirt at the retreat deal, but this time it is going to be simple and helpful. It is a simple charcoal colored shirt with a lime-green port-o-potty on the front. Our aim for this retreat is to help the students to develop a portable faith...a faith they can take on the road with them. So we are gathering around 5 practices: Story, Listening to God, Community, Exercise, and Conversation in which we help will begin and build on some tools that they need to have or need to sharpen to help them to explore questions of life, faith, God, relationships, theology, doubt, fear, and all that life throws at them. I couldn't be more excited for my good friend Stephen Gray to join us and lead us on this retreat and through not only the series of five mini-talks, but also through the experiential and applied learning exercises and practices to go with them. It's going to be a fantastic time and I'm really excited to see how this stuff gets fleshed out in student's lives.

You may be wondering why even do anything like this...and the truth is, we are seeing that in most faith traditions and parachurch organizations somewhere between 80-95% of students within one year of graduating high school are not part of any faith community be it church or otherwise. And we hope by giving the students the tools they need to navigate their faith or questions about faith, etc. that we are trusting God to continue to work and speak into their lives while also preparing them to think critically and significantly about the profound beauty and complex mysteries of life.

Tonight Stephen will invite students to hear the story of his life and how that has become included into the story of God's mission and love for the world, and will invite students to reflect on their life story and how that interacts with the story of God. Then after some grub, we will discuss how to listen to God, and talk about prayer as listening and creating space for God to speak...not just for us to speak. Then we will spend the night at some different students' houses and then meet for breakfast to talk about community and the importance of connecting and processing the story of God and the profound beauties and complex mysteries of life in a community. And also how the community is a community on mission that seeks to include others rather than exclude. Then we will talk about how exercise is important as it helps us to physically communicate with others, God, and also effects our self-image which in turn effects how we relate to God and others. Lastly we wil talk about conversation as a value, about the importance of relating and being in conversation with people who think, believe, and act differently than us, believing that by being in converation with others we will be able to hear God speak in new ways.

It is going to be a great and packed 20 hours, but I couldn't be more excited to flesh out and put into practice some of the conversations I've had with folks like Stephen, Tom Lynch, Chris McPeek, Chris Folmsbee, Seth, Todd Cullop, and others. Please pray for us, and I hope to share some reflections on this experience here on the blog and next Sunday, June 7th when I preach next!

performance art

I went to the 9:30 Club last night with a crew of high school students to see The National, a band that Seth introduced me to a couple years ago. If you haven't had a chance to see them play or hear any of their music, chances are you might have heard them last year during the election when Obama's campaign used their song "Fake Empire" for one of his campaign commercials. Hailing from Cincinnati, Ohio, the original 4-man band has expanded to include a wide variety of friends during their recording processes (including none other than Sufjan Stevens, as well as Marla Hansen & Colin Stetson, and numerous others) and many others while on tour, often having a wind ensemble and keyboard/piano/accordian player with them as well.

Last night's show was a powerful cocktail of sad songs, tails of broken relationships, layers upon layers of sound, rising and falling in the story and music, and astounding energy. I was talking with Ben Owsley on the way home about art and the power of live music, when I stumbled upon something that I have forgotten as life has become busy with work, study and new adventures in my career in combination with the joys and upheavals that come in marriage and Rowan, namely: good art can inspire change. Somewhere during "Secret Meeting" and "Baby, We'll Be Fine" I sensed a stirring within my being that I hadn't felt in a while, a sense of something transcendent and yet imminent, hopeful yet doubted, ethereal and yet down deep in my toes. Good art changes the person experiencing it in such a way that we aren't the same person after the experience. Good art, and for me a good live set of music, awakens an often dormant awareness of the world around me, the hope within me, and the power to change the world in which I live for the better.

Last night was one of those experiences when I realized just how important it is to be connected to good performance art, to take the time out for my soul to drink lavishly in the creation, experiences, and insights of another person. Shey has always understood this much better than me, and is so much more sensitive to the importance of fostering spaces for creativity and honest relfection, and recognizes the danger and loss when those spaces shrink or cease to exist. And last night I think I began to understand for the first time in any such way that I could express into words just why I think experiencing performance art is so important.

Because even though so many of the songs are dark twisted stories of doubt, failures, misunderstood relationships, and cultural shortcomings, the music communicated hope in the midst of it all. A hope that believes change is possible, real, and integral. Last night brought about an awareness in me of the importance of regularly experiencing performance art for the good of my whole being. And if you get a chance, check out The National. Alligator and Boxer are two phenomenal albums.

hello world

I think there are a lot of reasons why I don't blog as much as I'd like to. I think the novelty of writing in a format that is often imprecise, immediate, and often unbalanced is sort of nerve-wracking for me has finally worn off. It's really hard for me to let go of things in such a way as to let others see my processing and messiness, not because I think that I should hide or am ashamed of how I am processing life, faith, family, relationships, theology, God, etc....but more because I don't want to write things that are boring and unhelpful and a waste of everyone's time. It's like listening to a new album of music, being excited about a song or two, but overall, finding the majority of the experience boring and lacking creativity or excitement. I'm an album kind of person. If you were to take a look into my iTunes library...you wouldn't find many singles, or individual songs for an artist. I think the one song makes sense within a larger whole, and helps give its parts a stronger and more significant meaning when understood in the right environment. I used to have a rule in fact that I wouldn't listen to a new album until I had time to listen to the whole album all the way straight through. I'd lay on my bed and listen to an album, trying to hear the sounds, the words, and simply let the art wash over me. And sometimes, only a couple of songs would be any good, but I tend to gravitate towards musicians and bands who put together cohesive albums...which often stretch me into new places or new appreciations. But sometimes the things I am thinking about are really boring, or often lacking deep insight for many other people, but are fun for me to think about...e.g. stupid Onion articles, birds, etc.

But I think that I have started to realize that I need writing. I need the imprecise, journal style, unbalanced, messy format of writing and thinking. My brain is becoming overloaded with things I need to think about, and I just need to get it out. Maybe to all of you who are no longer reading because of my inadequate and infrequent postings, I may start writing about more therapeutic things for me (like the thought process behind considering a Ph.D., or teaching a diploma level theology class next semester, or possibly publishing a book about hope for students in a youth ministry line of books), that I will always love feedback about, or would love any thoughts someone else might have to help along the way.

I still hope to have some laughs, stir up the pot, and to keep up the conversations with friends that live far away, or I don't get to see as much, or whose thinking continues to influence and affect me. I'd like to share more random pictures of the garden, of birds, of life...and I will try to use this space to process for me, what is happening in my life, to share with others for sure, but most importantly, so that I keep up the habit of writing, processing, reflecting, and changing into the person that I believe God is inviting me to be.

Review: The Great Emergence

I have been using Phyllis Tickle's prayer guides called the Divine Hours which are broken up into three volumes based on the seasons of the year (Springtime, Summer, Fall & Winter) off and on for the last couple years as manuals, guides, starting points, tethers, and sparks to my spiritual journey with God and others. It has been refreshing to pray scripture, to pray prayers that have been passed down through the hands of church, to have something to come back to when a lot of days I feel like I have nothing to give. And perhaps most importantly, they have helped me to develop a second naivete, a second chance at approaching the sacred texts of scripture informed by my knowledge from seminary (for I certainly cannot forget it or act as though I am unchanged by it) and yet move beyond an expository reading of scripture or prayers, but rather to let the words inhabit me, change me, and trigger my imagination.

But this isn't a review of the prayer manuals, but a review of Tickle's slim but momentous work titled The Great Emergence: How Christianity is Changing and Why released late in 2008. This short work is a broad and introductory overview to the major upheavals Christianity has experienced roughly every 500 years. Tickle of course recognizes that there is about a hundred and fifty years of turmoil and boiling leading up to the time when Christianity erupts into something new and different, which takes another 150 years to be worked out, followed by years of relative stability, new authority, and change, until the authorities and structures are questioned and the collective story of Christianity undergoes another great change. For a brief insight think: 500 A.D. Gregory the Great and Monastics perpetuate the faith despite the fall of the Roman Empire, 1054 A.D. The Great Schism the mutual excommunication of the Roman Church and the Eastern Church of one another, 1517 A.D. The Great Reformation, and now in 2009 we find ourselves in the midst of The Great Emergence.

One of the reasons I went to The John Leland Center for Theological Studies is that they teach the important doctrines of the church in a special way, they teach them rooted in a historical context. They don't offer systematic theology classes, but rather the subjects or doctrines of systematic theology in a historical and contextual setting. It makes it more difficult, or at least makes one slow up before calling someone else a heretic, when we see that most folks throughout the history of the church who fell onto the wrong side of where the church believes actually was not trying to do something evil or wrong, or even lead the church or world astray, but rather were trying to make sense of the impenetrable mysteries of God and the world in such a way that would be helpful to others.

So I like this book a lot because it helps to put the major changes in the structure, authority, and life of the church into a historical context, making it more difficult to make a villain out of one group or one particular way of thinking. It is clear though, that in these times of great upheavals, the old guard is going to be strong, hoping to preserve the remnant of their authority and power, in such a way as to advocate the status quo, and remain traditionalists to the their core. Which is great, those folks will help to anchor the story through their long line of tradition, theology, and questions, while those in the center will be partaking in the upheaval while in communication with those in the corners preserving their current position.

Tickle's book is a thoughtful and needed historical perspective on the current state of Christianity that is accessible to readers of various backgrounds. Her state of the union for Christianity is extremely helpful in finding one's bearings amongst the great sea of change, and helps to ask some of the most important questions of our time, namely, 'Where now is the authority?' Her explorations of where the authority resided in previous time periods is examined most fully for the time period of The Great Emergence, where uncertainty, the Holy Spirit, and experience have come into the forefront of discussion and provide for illuminating insights into the current scientific, theological, historical, and philosophical landscapes.

If you are in for a brief, hair-blowing, monumental work written by my guess a late 70 year-old woman, then this is the book for you. I don't think you'll be disappointed, and you just might learn some things about yourself and figure out that you have some decisions about where you'll fit in to this whole "Great Emergence" thing. If anyone hears that Tickle is looking to have some surrogate grandchildren, let me know, I'd love to hear more of the stories and insights she has about the future of Christianity sitting around the dinner table some time.

Review: The Fidelity of Betrayal

I like Peter Rollins' work a lot as many of you might have guessed, even while I don't agree with everything, I find his books extremely helpful. So I thought I'd review Peter Rollins' book The Fidelity of Betrayal: Towards a Church Beyond Belief. A couple of months ago I had the opportunity to hear Rollins speak at a lecture series from my seminary, and it was a fascinating and great experience to hear Rollins come alive as he sparked imaginations, told stories, and laughed a lot...the way philosophy should be discussed in my opinion. He was humble, generous, and thoughtful in the way he engaged with responses from the crowd and faculty. It was great to have a couple of minutes to talk with him after his lecture, and while he rocked the boat a little bit, I don't think that he did it with a spirit of arrogance or attack.

Anyways, I read his latest book that was out at the time (he had a new book The Orthodox Heretic come out about a week ago) The Fidelity of Betrayal and found it to be a helpful read, especially in his discussion of reading the Bible with a second naivete (HT: Paul Ricoeur), which is an informed reading of the text, that is devotional and transformational in its aims, informed of course by the knowledge and previous experience one brings to the text yet with a second naivete that inspires new readings and understandings.

I also appreciated his discussion of the mystery of God brought near in Jesus. Rollins writes, "The mystery of God is not dissipated in Christ but brought near. Is this not the key to understanding the idea of transcendence within Christianity, a term that describes a way of breaking the here/elsewhere dichotomy of near and far through the idea of an immanence so deep and impenetrable that it cannot be approached? The myster of God now dwells among us rather than standing above us (pp. 53-54)." The point Rollins was making in describing the Incarnation was a bigger point in his discussion of truth, the biblical text, and the Word of God, namely that we will never be able to learn everything there is to learn or understand all that there is to understand about Jesus, the Bible, God, the mystery of God, theology, etc. not because God is unknowable, but because God's immanence ruptures into time and space, into real history in such a way that it shatters the ability to speak in any way about God, or an interpretation of the text that is final or the last word.

So the larger picture is that the church must be willing to deny its own beliefs in order to faithfully follow God. It must resist the tempation to name God in some final or all-encompassing manner. Rollins' writes further, "the deep truth of Christianity is not found in the acceptance of some particular historical claim. Rather, it refers to a happening testified to within the Bible that cannot be reduced to words, confined in concepts, or divulged by definitions (113)."

I enjoyed this book a lot, not as much as his first book, How (Not) to Speak of God which is in my top 10 of all time books at this point in my short life, but still worth a read if you are interested in postmodern theology and philosophy. Here's a pic from the evening when I heard him speak...a great night to hear someone whose work has meant a lot to me over the last couple of years.

Malcolm preaches at Cornerstone

So apparently i can now text my blog and post to it. Pretty cool. Enjoy a pic of Ro. I had a pretty great day today, Malcolm Goodspeed preached at our church today, who was a professsor at Leland, who reached out to me as I was a new pastor. Malcolm is a retired minister from England with one of the most generous and humble spirits that I know of. It was great to catch up with him this week and for Shey and Rowan to be able to meet Malcolm and his wife Ann. He preached on prayer out of weakness and pain. And it was one of the best sermons that i have heard on Romans 8 ever. God joins us in our weakness, our mundane, our routines, our suffering and cries out with us in groans for which words simply do not suffice. I have been thinking a lot about the difficulties of last summer for Rowan and Shey as Rowan is nearly a year old in one more month. And Malcolm's sermon reminded me of the
presence of God I felt from friends, and the cries that lept out of me as I layed crumpled before God.

the onion = amazing

I still have a regular old-school Nintendo that I bust out from time to time with the students from church, and while our original Nintendo is no more, towards the end of the reign of the first Nintendo after our first one busted, we bought the modified, space-saver edition. Anyway, I lived in a house which we called "Spreadgun" after the best gun in the first Contra game. We thought it was awesome, we made t-shirts with the blazing C from the Contra emblem made into an S with the word Spreadgun on the front. On the back of the shirt we had the code for 30 Lives (up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, A, B, Start, or Select, Start for 2 Player). We thought we were so creative. Anyway, now that my dorkiness is all out in public. I couldn't help but crack up at this: Man Finally Unpauses 'Super Mario Bros.' After 18 Years of Chores. I can totally remember pausing the game for chores, sleep, or because I wasn't supposed to be playing and didn't want to lose the game (I mean, there was no saving games at that time.)

I didn't watch the dunk contest this year for the NBA, but I heard a lot about it, and this article made me laugh out loud: Nate Robinson Jumping Over Dwight Howard In Every Day Life.

And lastly, I thought Seth and Tim would like this t-shirt.

can't wait

I'm going to see The National in May, with a couple of high school folks, including the one and only Ben Owsley. It should be a lot of fun. Actually, it is going to be way more than fun, it might be one of the best concerts since I saw Sufjan a couple years back. I can't wait.

On a completely different note, but still something I am really looking forward to, one of my favorite philosophers/theologians is speaking as a part of The Leland Distinguished Speakers Series (previously N.T Wright) on Thursday night. His name is Peter Rollins. He's talking about his most recent book The Fidelity of Betrayal: Towards a Church Beyond Belief, and the tour is called Lessons in Evandelism. It will be a provocative, fun, and thoughtful evening. Starts at 7:30 up in Arlington. If anyone is interested in coming with me, just let me know.

life outside the church and fundamentalism

There are two posts from two of my favorite writers, thinkers, theologians and philosophers that I thought were important to point out.

First is part two of Brian Walsh's ongoing discussion how folks who are thinking in some progressive categories are frustrated with those who are "not getting it." In this post, he talks a lot about ways that the kingdom of God is being created outside of the walls of churches (and I'm not talking about buildings here). The hope is for an inspired and liberated imagination in contrast to an imperial imagination. Good stuff.

Second is a post from Peter Rollins. Rollins is one of my favorite current philosophers who is helping to explode the current paradigms of theology, philosophy, and the idolatry of conceptions of God. This post is titled: Fundamentalism isn't too violent, it isn't violent enough. Rollins points out that Dr. King and Mother Theresa are the true models of violence through pacifism ( I know, sounds crazy), by their willingness to follow to his most radical form of violence, that of pacifist subversion. Again good stuff.

If you like Rollins and live in the DC area, or simply want to be a part of a great conversationon February 26, 2009, he will be lecturing for the evening at Memorial Baptist Church in Arlington, VA as part of a distinguished speaker series for The John Leland Center for Theological Studies where I received my M.Div. The event is free, and from Leland they write:

The Leland Distinguished Speakers Series will present "Lessons in Evandelism: The Fidelity of Betrayal," a lecture by Peter Rollins on Thursday, on February 26, at 7:00 p.m. hosted by Memorial Baptist Church in Arlington.

Through a mix of parables, philosophy and discussion, Rollins will explore the current religious landscape of contemporary expressions of faith that claim to rethink Christianity for a new cultural epoch. He contends that what is needed are groups who offer a new way of thinking that not only challenges the way we express our faith but fundamentally ruptures the way we understand it. He will argue that these pockets of resistance represent a growing, organic movement that are proclaiming the death of God, church and religion as we know them in prepraration for their resurrection in a radically different form.

The author of How (Not) to Speak of God, The Fidelity of Betrayal, and an upcoming book of parables entitled, The Orthodox Heretic, Rollins is also the founder of ikon, a non-doctrinal, pub-based community in Ireland that offers a cocktail of live music, visual imagery, soundscapes, theater, ritual and reflection in its exploration of contemporary faith and life. Rollins holds a Ph.D. in Post-Structural Theory from Queens University of Belfast and has taught various aspects of continental philosophy, phenomenology and emerging church theology at such venues as Cambridge University, Princeton Theological Seminary and Yale Theological Seminary.

If you are interested in attending, let me know we can carpool.

on writing, empire, and hope for the future

It is most easy for me to spend time reading, thinking, and talking about the possibilities of the future rather than to live in the present in such a way that the future becomes a reality in my own life. Dreams of a Ph.D. Dreams of pastoring in an experimental community. Consuming less, conserving more. Living in greater honesty with friends and colleagues. Loving Shey better. Being a better dad. All of these things and more are always mulling around in my mind, sometimes shaking up inside of me until the already of my present life explodes and irrupts into the present, bringing about more creative and thoughtful action. But other times, those dreams, hopes, and ideas simply corrode my insides, and bubble inside my brain until it feels like my insides are melting, and the future of which I hope to live into and see lived out, is but a folklore and mythological story faintly heard on the distant horizon.

I think oftentimes it is because I want to blame others for my shortcomings, blame others for the incaction that leads to my consumption, and blame others for their unwillingness to live as I want them to live. While writing, and writing on a regular basis helps me to process, think, and reflect on my life and the world around me in such a way that it give hope and meaning to my experiences, it can also create a tension of the already but not yet of my life: the already of changes in the last few years into the theological, practical, and experiential person that I am today. The not yet, of the possibilities and changes that the coming years still hold ahead.

I was reading a post from one of my new favorite blogs called Empire Remixed, which is a collaboration of authors, writers, and bloggers examining what it means to be a people of the kingdom of God in an age of consumerism, national religion, and postmodernism, that struck a chord within me. One of my favorite books that has humbled me to no end is Colossians Remixed: Subverting the Empire by Brian Walsh and Sylvia Keesmaat (they are husband and wife), which explores kingdom living inthe context of the age described above. One of the top 10 books of my short life so far.

Brian Walsh wrote in a post yesterday titled On "Not Getting It" and the Virtue of Humility that it is important to approach those who we feel like "don't get it" with humility first and foremost. It is so easy to create an us vs. them scenario where one side is all right, and the other side all wrong. But life is so much more complicated than this, and to speak of people and situations with the same predjudice that we are actually decrying, can itself become a huge problem in moving forward with radical reconciliation and hope.

So this morning, when the future seems to be looming in on my life in such a way that I want to run, or blame others for the shortcomings I see, or at the very least hide from my insecurities, I want to show some humility, and realize that like others, I too am in process, in need of some humility in the way that I view myself and others. The change that friends and I have talked about does not usually happen overnight, but on those days when the already of my life breaks into the hopeful future of God's kingdom, I want to be ready, open, and have eyes to see the good and hope that exists in the present, and have humility in looking forward.

Can I get an Amen?

Quite a good idea to me, you know the whole praying thing.

(HT: Internet Monk)