Graduation Day Prayer

I was asked to give the invocation for the Judson University 10 AM graduation service. At first I was going to pray extemporaneously, but after thinking of the tragedy in Connecticut yesterday, I felt that moment should be lifted up in our community. I decided to take a moment and write out my prayer.

Kind and Gracious God,

We come to you today in a time of celebration in the middle of a season of celebration. We are grateful for these times in life when you remind us that there is a time for joy and a time to laugh. But, we are also reminded after the events of yesterday, that today is not a day of joy for everyone.

We want to offer up to you the community in Connecticut that experienced such terrible loss. We pray your grace showers down on those for whom today is a time to weep and a time to mourn. We pray that children and adults whose lives are forever changed find comfort.

In these times of tragedy, we seek answers for the unanswerable and try to make sense of the senseless. We look to the hills and wonder where our help comes from. Help us to remember that our help come from the Lord God, the maker of heaven and earth. Help us to remember that you bring Creation from Chaos; you bring Resurrection from Death; and you bring light to dispel the darkness.

We pray, O God, that Judson University continues to be a beacon of your light into the darkness of this world. We pray for the graduates that we send forth today. We honor their hard work. We celebrate their accomplishments, and we trust them to your care as we send them forward.

We pray that they take your light to fight back the darkness of this world. We pray that they are your hands and feet, and we pray that they are walking testimonies to your miraculous power to give hope to the hopeless.

We pray for this time as we honor them. May the words of our mouths and the meditations of our hearts together always be acceptable in your sight, O God, our Rock and Redeemer, 

Amen.

 

God Blessed America, Make Me a Blessing

On this July 4th, I was thinking of all the ways that God has blessed this country. We have been a country of hard workers and great thinkers, and God has blessed that. We split the atom. We went to the moon. We said "Slavery is wrong!" though we still bear the scars of that commitment. We said, "It is wrong to judge a person by the color of their skin," and we still try to live up to that ideal.

I know I feel blessed to have been born in this country and in a system which gave me opportunities. I wanted to join in the chorus of "God Bless America" today, but I want to make it more specific. You see, the other night, I watched the Disney movie "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" with my boys for the first time. It sounds a little over-protective, I am sure, but the more adult themes in that movie made me wait until they were older to show it to them. Now, 11 & 13, we sat and enjoyed what is probably my favorite animated Disney movie. As we listened to Esmerelda's song, "God Help the Outcasts," I watched as the boys were moved (and even a little convicted) by her prayer.

"God help the outcasts, hungry from birth. Show them the mercy they don't find on earth. God help my people. We look to You still. God help the outcasts or nobody will."

Then the parishoners sing: 

 "I ask for wealth. I ask for fame. I ask for glory to shine on my name. I ask for love I can posess. I ask for God and His angels to bless me."

Esmerelda responds:

"I ask for nothing I can get by, but I know so many less lucky than I. Please help my people, the poor and downtrod. I thought we all were the children of God."

While she was singing, Thomas turned to me and said, "I bet she's the one God heard. Not those other prayers." I was grateful he could tell a good prayer from a bad one, and as I reflected on the national prayer that will be invoked numerous times today, "God Bless America," I wanted to make my prayer more targeted today:

• God bless the one in five children in America born into poverty, without the opportunities I have been given. Please bless them God.
• God bless the eight out of 1000 families in America who lost a child under 5. Please God bless them.
• God bless the 6.7 million Americans in prison. Help them find rehabilitation. Help them find healing. Help them find you. God bless them.
• God bless the 3.5 million Americans who will experience homelessness this year. God grant them a home. God bless them.
• God bless the nearly 50 million Americans who experience hunger. Grant them daily bread. God bless them.
• God bless those Americans who are absent due to war. May your kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven. Grant us peace, O God. God bless them.
• God bless the children who have absent parents due to war (whether that absence be temporary or permanent). God grant them your presence. God bless them 

Dear God, for me and those blessed like me, we can get by. I pray you give us the wisdom and the courage to use the blessings from you and to be your blessing in these needs and those I didn't think of today. Thank you for this country. Thank you for the rich blessings you have poured out on it for nearly two and a half centuries. You have blessed us. Please make us a blessing. Amen.

Four Books that Changed My Life, Episode 4: The Politics of Jesus

To this point, my list of books includes one book that is a feminist reading of the Old Testament and one book that would be a radically new understanding of prophetic literature. I suppose I have saved the most controversial for last. 

John Howard Yoder's, The Politics of Jesus is the most theological read of the four books that changed my life, but in some ways, it's the most practical. Yoder sets out to develop an ethic based on a radical new understanding of the life of Jesus in the New Testament. Yoder would likely say it's more a rediscovery of exactly who Jesus was. Through his careful reading of the New Testament with special emphasis on Luke, Yoder shows that Jesus stands in the prophetic tradition. Jesus is a counter-cultural prophet who articulates a new worldview--the kingdom of God. People who have citizenship in the Kingdom of God have lives and ethics that look different from the rest of the world.

Like most American Christians. I grew up in a tradition that in practice saw the Beatitudes as an eschatological ideal. The Beatitudes were what would happen in heaven when humanity is finally and perfectly reconciled to God. When I read the Politics of Jesus, I found that Yoder actually expected Christians to be influenced by the life of Jesus in the here, not just the hereafter. Yoder felt that if Christians really believe that Jesus was fully human then Jesus is the model for all humans. Jesus shows Christians what is expected and what is possible. Christians must love their enemies. They must turn the other cheek. They must pray for those who persecute them. Yoder took the Bible seriously, and he took the life of Christ seriously. When faced with that, I had to listen to what he had to say. Yoder (a Mennonite by tradition) carefully laid out the inescapable reality for me...violence in defense of justice is not the call of Christ. Yoder made pacifism cool again. It had been cool for the centuries prior to Constantine but wasn't really mainstream after 325 CE.

Ultimately, John Howard Yoder confronted me with one simple truth, if I take seriously the call to be like Jesus, then I must do what Jesus did and I must do what Jesus said. Jesus said to turn the other cheek, and when he was beaten, that's exactly what he did. Jesus said to love your enemies, and when he was crucified, that's what he did. Jesus said to lay down your life for your friends, and that's what he did.

If I take seriously what Jesus said--and I take seriously what Jesus did--and I believe I am called to be like Jesus, I have no choice but to be a pacifist. 

When students find out I am a pacifist, they get confused. Students usually assume that I'm a pacifist because I want to be or that a pacifist or because I believe it's an effective method for social change. Certainly, Martin Luther King and Gandhi have shown us that pacifism can be an effective means for social change. Ultimately, however, that's not the reason that I'm a pacifist. John Howard Yoder showed me that if I want to be like Jesus, violence in defense of justice is not a position I can defend from the Bible.

Too often pacifism was/is equated with passivism. Yoder also made clear that living a life like Jesus is also not an excuse for inaction. Yoder argued for a radically active pacifism--a pacifism that works for the kingdom of God in this world--a pacifism that stands against injustice. For Yoder, Christlike pacifism loves its neighbor and defends its neighbor. It is willing to give its life for a friend. It is NOT the passive Christians who use their Christianity as an excuse to allow atrocities to take place. 

While Yoder had some difficulties in his personal life, no one can dispute he was a brilliant thinker and careful exegete. And I am not the same for reading his work.

Four Books that Changed My Life, Episode 3: The Prophetic Imagination

I wonder how many students have had this experience. You encounter an author or idea and as you read the book, you immediately disagree. Clearly, this individual is wrong. Clearly, they don't see the world the way you do. Clearly, they aren't as enlightened.

Then you realize that their argument makes logical sense, answers questions you're position didn't, and seems to better fit the acknowledged facts. Soon, you move from skeptic to apologist--from doubter to disciple. That summarizes my experience with Walter Brueggemann.

Fortunately, I had worked through my struggles when I encountered The Prophetic Imagination. It came in a time when I was ready to hear it, and it forever changed the way I think about prophets.

"Prophets" and "prophecy" are concepts that can provoke strong reactions in contemporary Christianity. I know Christians who argue that it is a spiritual gift that existed in the early church but no longer is relevant. And I know Christians who argue that it is an absolutely necessary spiritual gift that it is accessible to every Christian who will take the time to be open to it. Part of our difficulty is probably vocabulary. I am not 100% sure that the gift of prophecy spoken of on and after Pentecost is exactly the same kind of "prophecy" that is spoken of in the Hebrew Bible. I don't think that what people often call "prophecy" in contemporary settings is always the same "prophecy" of Amos and Jeremiah.

Brueggemann is approaching "prophets" clearly from the perspective of the Hebrew Bible. These prophets care far more about the immediate needs of the people than the distant future. These prophets shout at the establishment. They are heretical by suggesting that God doesn't care about sacrifices (Amos 5, Micah 6). They are heretical by marrying pagan prostitutes (Hosea 1-3). They are treasoness by suggesting that God is on the side of the Babylonians and is using Nebuchadnezzar for divine purpose, rather than the "chosen" people of Judah (Jeremiah 25:9). Society sees them as odd--for eating scrolls (Ezekiel), preaching naked for three years (Isaiah 20), or marrying prostitutes. But always, these prophets are working for God's purposes in this world. They fight against government and cultural appropriation of faith concerns to their own purposes.

They don't just criticize, however. In the Prophetic Imagination, Brueggemann shows how prophets must be equal parts critics of culture and energizers of faith. They look like crazy outcasts--contrarians who rail against the accepted static faith, but their angst doesn't come simply from observing the imperfections in this world. Their angst comes from frustration. In the musical 1776, John Adams stands at the front of Independence Hall after the southern delegates have walked out over the issue of slavery, and he sings in frustration, "Does anybody see what I see?!" Prophets understand this frustration. Prophets are "cursed" with the ability to see what is possible AND the ability to see what is. They see what the world would be like if God's purposes were manifest. They see the potential this world possesses, and they see us squander it. So the prophets do criticize, but part of the message of all the prophets is always hope. They give us a vision of what happens when we don't squander our potential.  The last word of a prophet is always an oracle which shows God's purposes realized in the world. 

I once heard Brueggemann say that no one REALLY wants to be a prophet. They are ostracized and often killed. He felt it was aiming high for followers of God to aspire to be scribes--to be willing to tell the story well. Performing the story was a little much to ask. Even so, the Prophetic Imagination inspired me to be more aware of prophets in the world around me, and it inspired me to be more prophetic in the way I live...even if it makes me a little weird. I'm in good company.

Four Books that Changed My Life, Episode 2: Texts of Terror

I come from a pretty conservative faith background. I was raised in THE Southern Baptist Church on the south side of Detroit. I went to my share of Vacation Bible Schools (actually more than my share, but that's another story). I was active in youth group and summer missions and Baptist Student Union. So, when I got to grad school and had to read Phyllis Trible's Texts of Terror: Literary-Feminist Readings of Biblical Narrative for a class, I was scared.

I wasn't scared by the "terror" part. I was scared by the "feminist" part. I came to grad school with a conservative world-view: theologically and politically. A "feminist" anything would make me nervous. A "feminist" biblical interpretation? Well, what could be more threatening and dangerous? Obviously, my grad school professors were trying to corrupt me...brain-wash me. They were trying to turn me into some left-wing, tree-hugging, granola-eating, liberal who denies Jesus even existed (I wish that was hyperbole. But those really were my fears.).

Fortunately, my desire for academic success and my curiousity overcame my fear, and I read the book. Then a funny thing happened. I liked it. Actually, I loved it! It wasn't scary at all. It wasn't "liberal" at all. In fact, it was carefully biblical. As I turned the pages, I actually said out loud, "Wow. I'm a feminist. I had no idea."

Trible wasn't hostile to the faith or to the text. She was incredibly respectful of the text. As someone from a denomination that claims to prioritize the biblical text, that resonated with me. I appreciated her thorough and textual perspective.

She walked the reader through four stories of women in the Old Testament whose terrible stories are too often overlooked, and she showed how those terrible, disturbing stories point to another terrible, disturbing story in the New Testament (you know...the one that led to the cross). Trible showed me how Hagar, David's daughter Tamar, Jephthah's daughter, and the Levite's concubine show a faith we later see in Christ. She showed me that close readings of the text are good things. She showed me that I needed to improve my skill reading Hebrew. She showed me that "feminist" isn't evil. In fact...sometimes..."feminist" is biblical. She showed me how I was bringing my presuppositions to my interpretation, and she helped me shed some of those.

I owe Trible a great debt. While I don't do feminist hermeneutics, she has shaped my research agenda. I strive to be thorough and textual in my own readings. I strive to be sensitive to linguistic elements in the text. I strive to not allow my cultural presuppositions to the creep into my interpretations. And I hope that I am better at not judging a book by its cover.

I also hope I write a book this good someday.

Four Books that Changed My Life, Episode 1:Lament for a Son

The past few months I have mentioned "Four Books that Changed my Life" in a variety of contexts. It seemed logical for me to take a minute to say a word or two (or four) about these books that have had such a profound impact on me.

The first book is the actually the last one that I read. Nicholas Wolterstorff's Lament for a Son.

I first discovered this text when Cindy was in graduate school at Truett Seminary in Waco. Wolterstorff is a brilliant thinker and has several compelling works on social justice, education, and even art. Lament for a Son, however, is a much more personal text. After losing his adult son in a climbing accident in Europe, Wolterstorff journalled his grief experience. A trained theologian and philosopher, Wolterstorff journalled his struggles with God and his struggles with humanity after the tragedy. That journal later became the basis for Lament for a Son.

It is a powerfully honest text. It is a text that reveals a father who is not in search of answers, but rather, in search of community. It is a text that shows a man who doesn't want practiced, well-rehearsed, canned, ministerial answers, but someone who will practice a ministry of presence.

I discovered in this book an honest quality of prayer that I too often lack and an honesty that is all to present in the Bible (I am always troubled when ideas that are so novel to me turn out to be so biblical). Practiced piety and rehearsed prayers are comfortable. In Wolterstorff, I found a man willing to take who he was was, where he was to the divine--even when "who he was" was angry, and "where he was" was a valley of deepest darkness--even when "who he was, where he was" was uncomfortable for those around.

Though certainly sad, Lament isn't hopeless. Like the laments of the psalms, Lament for a Son has its moments of hope. I found hope in two places. First, this book taught me that "lament" is worship. I shouldn't have been surprised by that. By some counts, half of the hymns of ancient Israel (in the book of Psalms) contain lament characteristics. Israel knew that life in this world will bring humanity to cry out, and those cries needed to be taken to the divine.

The second hopeful lesson from the book was Wolterstorff's willingness to authentically welcome us into his grief and his invitiation to join him as he continued to wrestle in grief. He is willing to lay his soul bear and invite ministry and community. His humility, his willingness to be low and accept ministry truly inspires me.

Its discussion of grief and faith goes beyond just the loss of a son. It speaks to grief in a number of settings. Everyone who has been sad and angry or confused should read this book.  I joke that this book has become a track for me. I recommend it, and I hand out my personal copies. I just received my 10-12th (lost count) copy in the mail last week.

It is short, deep, well-written, relevant...and it changed my life.

Return to Blogging: Debriefing Lawndale

It's funny. You always think you will blog more than you actually do. People have said, "To blog regularly, sometimes you need to have something to say, and sometimes you just have to say something." Personally, I just want to have something to say.
My plan was to blog a little about my Lawndale through the fall semester, but of course, life got in the way. So I thought I would make my first 2012 blog a debriefing about last semester.

Simply put: Lawndale was a transforming experience. I did enter into a different culture, but I found friends...no...I found brothers and sisters. I wondered if my jokes would work. They did...well...as much as they work anytime. I wondered if my lectures would resonate. Boy did they. And like most good teaching experiences, I learned more than they did. It was a true intercultural experience. I shared from my culture. They shared from their varied culture. We shared with each other. It was affirming. It was challenging. It was the body of Christ.

What did I learn?

1. People are People. Everywhere.
2. People who live just 40 miles away from me, live in a completely different world.
3. I discovered just how much energy I spend trying to get students to care. I discovered this because my Lawndale class cared so passionately and so deeply about everything we were talking about, I didn't have work very hard. The wanted to soak up any information I could give. The first night we went 15 minutes over as they continued to ask interpretive and clarifying questions. I finally said, "It's 10:15 PM! I have to go home!"
4. I learned that I have brothers and sisters in Christ in a place I never knew about one year ago.
5. Coach is shorter than I had pictured after hearing the stories.
6. Lou Malnati's is the best pizza in Chicago.
7. I learned how important the story of Job is to the African-American church.
8. I learned that I have a lot to learn about the body of Christ.

Unfortunately, I still haven't had a chance to worship with them on Sundays. My interim responsibilities haven't allowed me to take a week off. But it won't last forever, and I look forward to worshipping with my new friends. Thank you, with all love, thank you: Phil, J.B., "Donny," Pat, Tyone, Joey, Linda, Jose, and Theresa. Thanks to Northern Seminary for giving me a chance to stretch myself. Thanks be to God for this oasis on the west side.

Oh, one more thing I forgot to mention that I learned: The "Lawndale Miracle" is real.

"I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now, my eyes have seen you."

Real Hope in Chicago

I was having a conversation with the Dean at Northern Seminary, and she asked, "Have you ever heard of the Lawndale Community and Wayne Gorden?"

When I said that I hadn't, she began to tell the story. I listened in that way you listen when something seems too good to be true. "Surely, this story was embellished? Surely, all this can't be true. Surely, I would have heard of it?" Nope. It's all true.  It IS too good to be true, and I hadn't heard of it.

She told the story of Wayne Gorden, a grain-fed Iowa boy who felt God's call to work in the inner city. After graduating from Wheaton, Gorden took a job at Farragut High School in the Lawndale community in west Chicago. High crime, low money, and lots of despair. The community was the poster child for urban blight. Gordon taught history and earned the nickname he still goes by today, "Coach." Coach Gorden wanted to make a difference in this community. He truly believed that the community didn't have to be the way it was.  By the grace of God, it could be different.

It started innocently enough.  He began to lead Bible studies with his players, and they began to talk about what could be done to change the Lawndale community. They asked the group of students and others, "Why don't people go to church?" Four main reasons were given:

1. They didn't have nice clothes
2. They didn't have money to give
3. They were angry at God
4. The church wasn't doing anything in the community

So, Coach and that small group of believers started the "Lawndale Community Church" in 1978.  You can wear what you like. You can give money if you would like, but no plate is passed. You can come and learn the true power of the gospel.  And with dreams of changing the world, they started with a single washer and dryer which provided a safe place to wash clothes.  That need (and solution) came from the community. They saw a need, and (miraculously) God met that need.

Over the past 30+ years, they have recognized more needs, and they have started more ministries. They started the Hope House to help those battling drug addiction. The began reclaiming and restoring houses and apartments. They have creative ways to provide home ownership for families to help them cover closing costs and apartment opportunities for people who need help saving up for a down payment.  They have after school programs for kids and summer camps (their Garden Club). They have a nice size, multipurpose auditorium, but they have to meet in the gym for worship on Sundays (and they have to have two services) because of the numbers.

When I visited two weeks ago, I got to see one their first rate medical clinics, their gym, refurbished houses & apartments.  I ate lunch at Lou Malnati's, and enjoyed great Chicago style pizza. You wouldn't expect a restaurant of that reputation to be located in a community like Lawndale, but Coach told the owners that Lawndale didn't have a good place to sit down an eat, so they should open their tenth restaurant in Lawndale as a tithe to God. The owners did.

I met ministers in leadership roles in the church who a decade ago were in the Lawndale Hope House battling drug addiction. 

A few years ago, Northern Seminary provided opportunities for people in this area to continue education.  Some of the courses on community development in the seminary curriculum were offered in the Lawndale facility.  Seminary students began taking classes along with community ministers and residents who wanted to earn a certificate. These ministry and community development classes have been received very well, but when Northern asked what else they could offer, the resounding answer came back, "We want more Bible!"

This fall, I will be teaching the very first "Exploring the Bible" class offered in the Lawndale community on Monday nights as an adjunct for Northern Seminary. This is going to be a busy fall (I am already teaching an extra class at Judson!).  But I couldn't say no.  There is something special about that place.  A miracle has taken place. God is moving, and I just have to be there. I came home from my visit humbled, challenged, convicted...

I was humbled because I had witnessed the actual transformative power of the gospel. I saw grace. Real, tangible, transformative, powerful grace. I saw it. I shook grace's hand. I ate its pizza. I saw its gym. I wanted to stand there, just hoping that a little grace would splash on me. Just let me have the crumbs that fall from the table. It was moving in a way I hadn't been moved in some time.

I was challenged and convicted as well. You see, I saw the limits of this revitalization.  I saw where houses and apartments fell into disrepair again. Coach's influence ends, and the blight remains. After seeing what happened in Lawndale, all I could think was, "But it doesn't have to be this way." We can get so cynical and want to throw up our hands and give up. "What can we do?" "It's always going to be this way." "That's just the way it is."

No. I have seen that it doesn't have to be that way. There are still miracles. I have seen them.

I look forward to this fall (and it scares me a little too). My family and I were invited to worship with them some Sunday, and I can't wait. 

Coach put the story of the Lawndale Miracle in a book about a decade ago. "Real Hope in Chicago" is a great story...even greater when you remember that the miracle has continued for over a decade afterward and is continuing. The story of my trip to Lawndale is much like any story of an encounter with Christ. I was amazed, convicted, empowered, and I will not be the same.

 

"...we were there, taking it all in—we heard it with our own ears, saw it with our own eyes, verified it with our own hands. The Word of Life appeared right before our eyes; we saw it happen! And now we're telling you in most sober prose that what we witnessed was, incredibly, this: The infinite Life of God himself took shape before us." 1 John 1:1-2 (The Message)

 

A Time to Reflect

A friend asked me the other day, "So, are you working this summer?" (the college professor's 9-month contract often inspires such questions)

I responded with my usual, "Well, I have an article I want to get together, a book review to write, and a presentation for a national meeting in November.  I also have some classes this fall that I haven't taught before.  Those syllabi will take some time to get together."

It is true, the summer is the time when professors are supposed to maintain whatever research agenda they can.  It provides the long stretches of uninterupted time that you don't have during the school year.  But one of the things I think I treasure most about the summer is the time to reflect.   Without the impending deadlines, committee meetings, student meetings, classes (all of which I do love or I wouldn't do this with my life), summer provides a moment to think.

It sounds kinda silly I guess.  We think all the time.  But I mean really THINK.  I am reminded of the wonderful, old Trappist monk at the Abbey of Gethesemane who urged me to "Store up some silence while you visit, so you can write checks on it when your life gets busy."  Summer is a time to deposit some more silence into my account.

Life still provides noise, and some of it is good noise.  I am the summer "cruise director" for the boys.  But let me take a moment to say that I am convinced "Phineas and Ferb" have provided unrealistic expectations for what a summer should be!  But I love our trips to the museum or throwing the frisbee or just riding in the car. 

But thankfully, summer also provides that time to simply and think and reflect.  Evaluate what worked over the past year.  Evaluate what didn't and why. Maybe even write a blog or two. 

I am grateful to have a job where there are still "seasons." I can take this time of fallow and prepare for the planting.  My prayer is that everyone (no matter their profession), can find some time to store up some silence and take time to reflect.  Some may call it "boredom."  I call it Sabbath.

Little Town of Bethlehem

“I traveled to the U.S.…every summer to meet with family at that time, and I met with many people in the U.S. And nobody knew anything about our situation. Nobody knew what a Palestinian was. Bethlehem was Israel for many people. Even Bethlehem was how people saw it in the Bible.”—Sami Awad, Palestinian Christian

I hope you will take the time to read my review of the movie "Little Town of Bethlehem" at Associated Baptist Press.

Dangers of Reading the Bible

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door," he used to say. "You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to."

Uncle Bilbo was a wise hobbit. His lessons apply to so many areas of life. I thought of this quote after a wonderful conversation I had with a student.

[Warning: In the following true story, the names have not been changed because the innocent said it'd be okay to use them].

Among my other responsibilities, I have been teaching freshman in a "Intro to the Bible" in some form or another (OT, NT, or OT+NT) every semester for the past 12 years. Like most professors, I have had students who grew up in Sunday School and are expecting to ace every test because they "love Jesus." In fact, when we begin teaching things that aren't covered in Sunday School like form criticism, the invasion of Tiglath-Pileser III and its impact on reading Isaiah 7, or how the Bible came together, then the students who struggle the most are the students who had been the most active in church.

Some of them shut down, believing that if their pastor didn't think it was important, then they won't either. Some of them keep struggling and wrestling to reorient their faith to make room for these new ideas. "Wait, form criticism can inform faith?" "Textual criticism isn't antagonistic to faith?" "The Enuma Elish helps me understand Genesis 1?!"

One concept that is challenging to them every semester is the discovery that the authors of the biblical text were aware of and used other Near Eastern texts to make their point. This is shocking! Scandalous! PLAGIARISM!!! (It really shouldn't be that upsetting. After all, we are products of our culture--called to transform it, but when the biblical authors do it, it's a problem). I usually have to shepherd the students through Genesis 1 after discovering the connections with the Enuma Elish and the flood story after discovering the connections to the Atrahasis Epic and Gilgamesh. The biblical transformation of these other Near Eastern documents is beautiful and rich, but challenging to the first time reader.

I assumed we had worked through most of those issues this semester, and as I worked through Proverbs, I talked about the book of Proverbs borrowing from the Instruction of Amen-em-opet almost as an afterthought. What I didn't realize was that one of my students had been struggling since creation (literally), and this was one literary source too many.

"This bothers me, Dr. Wallace! Why not just add whatever we want to the Bible!? How can the authors just keep borrowing like this!?!"

Trying to help, I said, "Maybe this will help. Some people believe that Paul incorporated early Christian hymns into his letters. Does that bother you?"

"No," she said, "That is totally different."

"Um, okay," I said, "What about those Christian T-shirts that look like something secular, like Budweiser, but is says something oriented toward God, like 'God makes one wiser'"

"No," she said, "That is totally different."

"That's totally different?" I said, "That is exactly what the biblical author is doing!"

"No," she said, "That is totally different."

"Okay, okay," I said, "'It is totally different.'"

I thought for a minute and said, "Michelle, can God save you?"

She said, "What?"

I said, "Can God save you?"

"Yes," she said tentatively.

"Wait a minute," I said, "Someone as secular and worldly as you can be transformed into something that witnesses to the grace of God in this world."

In a wonderful response, she paused and said, "I see where you're going, Dr. Wallace."

She felt a little better, but she stayed after class, to talk more about the issues. The topics ranged from textual criticism, why some Bible translations have some verses, but others don't, more form criticism, canon, authorship, inspiration. None of it seemed to make her feel any better, and truthfully, she was probably spiraling down a little. Finally, in a desperate attempt to help, I said, "Michelle, one thing you can remember and that should give you hope is that I know all of these things, and I still have a deep and abiding faith!"

In what might be the best response EVER given to me by a student, she said, "I had a deep and abiding faith, too, and then I read the Bible!"

I laughed involuntarily. But she continued...

"I used to think it was a good idea to read the Bible. 'My friend's having a hard time, they should read their Bible.' And, I am like, 'NO, DON'T DO THAT!! Here, read this list of scriptures, but don't go flipping around.'"

[This feeling was confirmed last night when Daniel heard me mention something about a drunk and naked Noah. When he asked what I meant, I explained the ending of the story of Noah. He responded, "Wow. Now I know why they just told us the story in church and didn't read it from the Bible."]

The next day some students and I were talking about Michelle's struggle. One of them commented, "Yeah, I know what she's going through. It's not even what the Bible says, but, boy, when you find out what that means!"

William Tyndale lost his life for the right for each of us to hold a Bible in our hands in our language. Now, my students and my son are questioning the wisdom of that. My wife commented with a laugh, "Makes you think the Catholics might have had a point. They didn't want just anyone picking up the text without training."

Of course, the alternative is to stay in your nice, safe theological place--never challenged, never moved. You can be absolutely certain of what you believe, know all the answers, and never doubt. But I don't like people who have all the answers, and I don't trust people who have all the answers. If you can't say, "I don't know," I don't trust your reading. The people of Judah just knew that God was on their side. They were the chosen people after all. God wasn't, he was on the side of Nebuchadnezzar. The Pharisees just knew that Jesus wasn't the messiah. They could give you chapter and verse to prove it. I think they were wrong, too. The disciples made light-year leaps forward when they were able to say, "I don't know as much as I thought I did."

So, I will shepherd my students through their crises as I do every semester. I will help them see how this new material can fit in a growing life of faith. And I will pray they will be able to say, "Wow, I didn't know as much as I thought I did."

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door . . . " That is true. But I believe it is better than staying closed up at home.

Advent Sunday

I have shared many times how Advent saved Christmas for me (just recently in fact). This Sunday of Advent, I am trying catch my breath more than I am trying to reflect on the hope that comes with the incarnation. This past week is busier than most. My professional meeting always meets the weekend before Thanksgiving (this year it was in Atlanta). The family thanksgiving, a family trip to the Museum of Science and Industry, driving my mom back to her home, and driving back this morning...it has been a busy week. And I have to get a stack of grading done, and I have a number of extra, professor responsibilities this week, and . . . and . . . It isn't really a good week for reflection.

At my meeting in Atlanta, I went to the "Blogging & Online Publication" session. As I listened to the interesting papers and how "information exchange can happen instantly," I thought of the good ol' days when information exchange took a little longer. Articles were written. Articles were read. If you had comments to make, you had to write them up and submit them (you couldn't just write them under the article on the website). If you had an opposing view, you had to put together a well thought out, well-reasoned response so that the journal would publish it. Time passed. Thinking could take place. Reflection could lead to new insights. I wonder if these days we have enough time to really process all that we receive. I wonder if we have given up on "wisdom" in favor of the accumulation of more and more "knowledge."

Of course, as the great philosopher Billy Joel reminds us: the good ol' days weren't always good, and tomorrow ain't as bad as it seems.

This hasn't been a good week for reflection, but maybe that is why it is a good week to reflect. Advent reminds us that in the busiest time, the word became flesh. When there were a million of other things to do, the word became flesh. When the world didn't want to take time to notice, the word became flesh. It is time to experience the most important event in history. But the urgent begins to push out the important, and the urgent can even mask itself to seem more important. Black Friday is apparently a big deal, and if I don't participate in it, I am missing part of what it takes to celebrate the holiday. "Be Thankful for Clearance Sales"and "Be Thankful for Savings" are just two examples of how the hte urgent tries to mask itself as important.

Maybe after some reflection, I can say that my life will be just as rich without a cheap DVD player. Maybe the "Buy Nothing Friday" social justice movement is on to something. Or as the Grinch said, "What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store? What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more?"

Of course, that would take stopping and reflecting.

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Christmas Fast

I didn't grow up in a liturgical church. We had a church calendar but it was never expressed formally. Where many churches have a liturgical calendar that celebrates Advent (the coming of the Christ), Epiphany (the visit of the Magi), Pentecost (the coming of the Spirit), and other events around the life of Jesus and the early church, my church's liturgical calendar looked more like this: Mother's Day, Memorial Day, Father's Day, Fourth of July, Thanksgiving, etc. If you don't believe those were formal events in the year of church, watch what happens to the Baptist pastor who doesn't celebrate Mother's Day in worship.

After I got married, Cindy and I joined a church that celebrated Advent, and it honestly saved Christmas for me. Christmas might be good for the economy, but it was really bad for my faith. Taking a moment each week to remember the coming Christ was like water to a soul made barren by the commercial, capitalistic pursuits of the world. The liturgical calendar really opened up a whole new world for me--a world organized by the life of Jesus.

I was particularly fascinated by Lent and the power of the fast. Naturally, "fasting" was not something that I understood coming from my faith tradition either. Fasting can serve a number of purposes in the life of a person. As an Old Testament professor, however, I think the one function of fasting that means the most to me is the power it has to reveal idolatry.

Over the years, we have tried to celebrate Lent as a family. When we talk about what to give up, I find that some things are not on the table. Cindy: "What about TV?" Me: "Um, no, March Madness. Can't miss March Madness." Cindy: "What about meat?" Me: "Um, no, can't give up meat. I would go hungry, I think." Me: "How about sweets? Something challenging, but not too challenging."

Pretty effective indictment of my faith, and it's a pretty clear indication of where some of my idols lie. What has power over me? What controls me? Could I really give up March Madness, take up my cross, and follow? Maybe (not yet, but maybe).

In the Eastern Church, November 15 traditionally began a Christmas fast. Like most fasts, it focused on diet. In our culture, as the Christmas marketing ramps up into full swing, maybe we should recover (and discover) the practice of the Christmas fast. Maybe we could give up those things that so easily hinder us and our faith.

What is it that I can't give up this time of year? What is it you can't imagine your life without? Football? Fudge? Wassail? I can't speak for everyone, but I imagine a Christmas fast would do my faith a world of good.

Generations on the Job Market

A generation in the Hebrew Bible is forty years. A generation for iPods is about a year. A generation for someone with a PhD is about 4 years.

I come up with that number because that is about the how long it takes before the current grad students don’t know the incoming grad students because they aren’t in courses with them anymore. For some, that is how long it takes to get done with your dissertation. Once you get that first job that is exactly how long it takes to move your young freshman from orientation to graduation.

I have spent about 3 generations on the job market. In Fall of 1998, I started teaching as an adjunct professor at the University of Mary Hardin-Baylor. It was about that time I began combing the internet for any institution, anywhere that might have a full time position who might hire someone who was All But Dissertation (never mind that I wasn’t ABD at that point—but hey you had to dream).

Back then, I was pretty convinced I could do anything. “Gen Ed Interdisciplinary Core with an Area of Competency in Asian Religions?” Sure, I had a course in Asian Religions, I can do that! “Hebrew Bible with an Area of Competency in Rabbinic Judaism?” Sure, I can do that . . . maybe. “Women and under represented groups encouraged to apply” Well, maybe I can’t do EVERYTHING.

Of course, over time I got more realistic with my application packets, more accepting of my ding letters and absolutely ritualistic checking the openings websites. For years, the “Openings” website would update the first of every month. I stayed up till midnight at the end of many months waiting for the openings to click over, only to see one (maybe two) Hebrew Bible postings in the United States (and one in Germany). Of course, I received many, many, MANY ding letters:

“We thank you for your interest in the servile, low-paying position at Hole in the Wall Community College, Fairbanks, Alaska. We had many qualified candidates and have narrowed the list and you aren’t among the finalists.”

When I finally got the job at Shorter, I knew the time was coming when I wouldn’t be welcome there. Many of us assumed it would be a one year posting. We were afraid the Georgia Baptists would come in with guns blazing and clean house in the Religion department. Thankfully, they took their time. It was 5 years before I was told my presence would no longer be welcome in the classroom.

Everyday for five years, I came into work. I turned on my computer. I opened the “Openings” web pages: Chronicle of Higher Education, Society of Biblical Literature, Inside Higher Ed, etc. Every now and then an opening would be interesting. Every now and then I would get an interview. Every now and then it would come down to me and one other candidate . . . and the school would go with the other candidate.

Every day. Every morning. It was more than habit—it was liturgy—it was an act of prayer. It was how I maintained some measure of hope. I tried to be present in my present, but in my heart I was looking for a place where I felt there could be a future.

Next week, I am going to the Annual Meeting of the Society of Biblical Literature. For twelve years, I have gone to this meeting looking for a job. This year I am not. It has been a weird experience. This is what it is like to be content? This is what it is like to not be looking every day for an opening?

I walked across the Judson University campus on this absolutely beautiful fall day, and a smile came across my face. Yes, it is a different world than I have known, but I think I can get used to this.

Advent (thanks to Wal-Mart, a little early)

The day before Halloween I was walking through Wal-Mart buying a few extra bags of candy. We are still in our “firsts’ here in this new place (“first summer,” “first Halloween,” “first Christmas”). I was reflecting on how excited we are to live in a place with lots and lots (and lots) of trick-or-treaters, and my drifted over into the “Home and Garden” section, and I noticed the first Christmas trees peeking over the aisles.

I know that a lot of people are discouraged by that, and I understand that emotion. It is true that Christmas is when all the retail establishments make a profit, so the earlier they can make Christmas, the better off they are. But I decided years ago, that if anyone can have joy about the approach of Christmas, it is a Christian. So I decide to use those (possibly exploitive and commercial) symbols of the season to move me to joy.

On that day, those Wal-Mart trees were an advent wreath. I felt such joy and hope seeing them, my eyes even welled up.

It almost exactly a year ago that I sent of my application packet to Judson University. The job opening posted exactly one day after I received the news that the trustees no longer wanted me in the classroom because of my Baylor Ph.D. [For my details see the discussion tab in the facebook group, “The Truth Behind Teachers' Removal”]

I am a teacher. In my heart of hearts I know that. I had decided (with Cindy) that this would be my last year on the job market. I would find something else to do. I was tired of ding letters. I was tired of coming so close so many times only to lose out. On the plus side, I had gotten very good at laments: Kate Campbell’s “Dark Night of the Soul,” Allen Levi’s “Bartimaeus,” Michael Card’s, “The Silence of God,” and others. I am afraid I was also getting very good at teaching the laments in the Psalter.

For some reason one song moved me more than others. Chris Rice’s song “Belong” became an almost liturgical practice for me. It was the first song I played every morning when I sat down at my desk. It was top of my iTunes “Top 25 Most Played” for some time, and more than once, I found myself in tears as I tried to sing those early verses.

I cower ‘neath the monster trees
And try to stand on tired feet
But gravity knocks me to the ground
Where I give up, and tears roll down
I claw the dust and beg the end
Curse the day that I began
to hope there’d be a place where I belong

It is a year later, and God has changed my mourning into dancing. We survived the move (I will be more confident when the boys and Cindy survive the winter!). Now, I am settling in as the new Old Testament professor here at Judson. The students are responding to me, and I can see where this place can benefit from my gifts. I am connecting with my colleagues, and I see where I can benefit from the gifts of this place. Though I have expressed the joy I have in my facebook statuses quite frequently, I truly could post joyfully every day.

This year when I light that first Advent candle and say, “Jesus brings Hope!” I will confess that this year, I will say that a little differently. Last year, I said it with longing. This year, I say it in declaration.

How did I miss this wondrous song?
The forest sang it all along
"River rinses all your shame
Father offers you His name
Father Love prepares a home
Brother Jesus leads you on
Follow to the place where you belong!"

My Indispensible Electronic Resources

I have a number of friends who I try to update whenever I find a nifty new electronic resource. As a professor, I have specific needs and limited budget. So, accomplishing some tasks requires some creativity. I thought I would put together my list of electronic resources that I absolutely can't live without.

1. CutePDF—Pdf has become the standard document format on the web, and, sometimes, you need to produce a pdf file. OpenOffice does have a "convert to pdf" button, but on occasion the spacing just doesn't work right. CutePDF installs like a printer on your machine. If it is a program you can print from, it is a program that can create a pdf. The appearance is perfect. I have never had a problem with it, and I have been using for years. Oh yeah, and it's free.
   
2. Dropbox—Just discovered Dropbox a few months ago, and now I can't live without it. Like so many people, I find myself working from a number of different computers. To rectify that problem, I had been using a flash drive. Dropbox creates a folder on your local hard drive that is synchronized with as many computers as you install dropbox on. So, the paper I was working on at the office is the version on my home computer (and my wife's laptop). The copies are local so you don't have to be connected to the web to access the files, they are simply synchronized the next time you connect. You can also access your files via the Web if you are away from your computer (or download the iPhone app). It's free for 2GB, and if you invite friends to join, you and your friend receive an extra 250MB up to a maximum of 10GB. My dropbox folder is now 6.3GB. If you follow this link it will be more J
   Dropbox referral
   
3. OpenOffice—Most people know about open office. It is the open source suite of programs that allow you to do word processing/powerpoint/excel without the nasty Microsoft price (OpenOffice as the name implies is free). GoogleDocs might give OpenOffice a run in the "free word processors" dept, but ONE feature makes OpenOffice indispensible. That is. . .
   
   1. OpenOffice Convert PDF extension—one of the needs we often have is to edit PDF file. Open office will import a pdf file and convert it to its version of a "Publisher" file. You can add and move around text, then print (using CutePDF) to preserve the formatting.
      
4. PDFSam—once you create all those pdf files you might need to combine (or split some). I use the freeware program PDFsam (which stands for "Split and Merge"). Pretty intuitive program.
   
5. LibraryThing—Like most professors, I am a bibliophile. I have a huge library, and if something happened to it, I am not sure what I would tell the insurance company. Library thing lets you keep an index of your books online. Just enter ISBN#/LC number/title/author/something and it will search to find the right book. You can index 200 books for free. For $25 you can have a lifetime membership with unlimited books. I would also spring for the $15 bar code scanner that can scan your books into the system. Multiple users can create groups which can list their books together.
   
6. Logmein—I am the computer expert in the family. However, the family is spread over the county, and talking someone through a computer repair is pretty tough. Logmein allows you to remotely access your home/office/Mom's/Mom-in-law's computer (provided you have set it up on that computer). It is free to access the computers. For a fee, you can share clipboards and drag and drop files. I haven't needed anything that advanced, so the free version works for me.
   
7. Google Calendar—As a family, we have entered the age of piano practice/football practice/drama practice/basketball practice—not to mention the schedule that my wife and I have to keep. With Google calendar, you can each have your own calendar. It will sync with outlook, and it has saved our bacon this last year.
   
8. Picasa—Solid/free image manipulating software. It will resize before mailing to whatever size YOU determine. It scans your disks to find all your pictures. The facial recognition software is addicting. It will also teach you things you never knew about your family . . . like how much your son looks like your grandfather . . .
   
9. Browser Wars: Chrome or Firefox. Both have advantages and disadvantages. The most indispensible feature for me is the ability to sync bookmarks. Chrome comes with the ability to sync. Firefox will sync if you install the "Firefox Sync" add-on. So no matter what computer you are working on, your bookmarks will all be the same.
   
10. Snopes—A must have for anyone in ministry with an email address. How many well-meaning students/church members have sent email which have been "sent from a friend" warning about the secret recording in which Obama predicted the end of the world in 2012 when you spell his Hawaiian birth name backwards in Hebrew . . . Snopes is a urban legend debunker. It will give you the vocabulary to gently inform those well-intentioned, but sadly gullible, emailers.
    

Bonus for Procrastinators!

1. StumbleUpon—After a hard day of staring at the computer, you sometimes need to find a way to kill time. StumbleUpon lets you set up your interests, and it will randomly select a website. It is like channel surfing the internet. I will warn you VERY addictive.
   
2. Live Mocha—But what if you want to procrastinate by doing something productive? Go to LiveMocha.com and learn a language. The lessons are set up inductively (like Rosetta Stone), but many of the lessons are free. And it is productive procrastination.
   

 

1. Zotero—To make this a baker's dozen, I will add one thing that I have not had a lot of time to use yet. That said, it might have the potential to jump to the top of this list very soon. Zotero is an extension for Firefox (making the web browser selection pretty easy). It will grab bibliographic data from searches and insert it into Word in the correct style (APA, SBL, MLA, Turabian . . . whatever you select). It has many of the features of EndNote, but like so many things on this list, Zotero is free. It generates Bibliography, keeps copies of pdfs… I haven't had time to use it much yet, but I think that as I start using it for research, it will be a must have.
   

I am by no means an expert, but these have saved me time and effort. I would be remiss if I didn't pass them on!

Honest Worship

This past Sunday, we attended the chapel service at Children's Healthcare of Atlanta. Cindy will be leading some of those services this year as part of her responsibilities there, and, for obvious reasons, it is recommended that you attend a service before you lead one. We went as a family, and the service was both what I expected and not what I expected.

As the children and their caregivers came in the room, they represented every race, medical condition, and age of children. Some were in the 3-4 year old range. Some were 18 or older. Some were apparently dealing with some form of cancer. Some were dealing with paralysis. Some were dealing with burns. Everyone was dealing with something. I could tell our boys weren't exactly sure how to process all these kids coming to church in wheelchairs and IVs. That was something I expected.

What I didn't expect was how deeply affected by the service I would be. In truth, I wasn't sure exactly why. The chaplain's homily was fine, nothing spectacular. The music was fine. The children lighting the candles was nice, but not really tear-jerking. It was a wholly unremarkable service. So, I kept searching for why I was so affected.

The next day it occurred to me today that what struck me most about the service was that this was an honest worship service. All of us coming together with our obvious infirmities—our caregivers next to us with others helping if need be. Some were there just to help others be able to be there. Some were there out of a deep sense of need. Some were there out of obligation. Those there with emotional need wore it on their faces. All were there in obvious need. The needs were obvious. The prayers were genuine.

I once asked Cindy what she loved so much about being a chaplain. She said that it was the honesty of it all. In an Emergency Room, an ICU, a NICU, or even in a hospital room, the pious façade we are so good at putting up is stripped away. People are real. Sometimes, real grief and real anger. And sometimes, real joy and real peace. It reminded me of the honesty we find in the psalms, where psalmists have no reservations about confronting the divine about their life situation.

Contrast that with what I see when I look around at faces on Sunday mornings in church. I know that every one of us is in need, but, of course, our needs are far easier to conceal. So, we go through life without contentment and without a real place for the divine in our lives. How hard it seems to have humility and worship through our infirmities instead of trying to hide them. We are masters at pretending that everything is alright. And too often, while we are pretending everything is alright, we are feeling sorry for ourselves. We lament our situation and wish things were different. With all the energy we expend trying to convince the world we have it all together while at the same time being consumed within with our needs, we miss the needs of the world all around. We don't love our neighbor because we don't love ourselves.

The chapel service had a wonderful teacher for that as well. When the chaplain asked for prayer requests, there was so much human need in the room, I remember thinking, "I imagine this will take some time. " To my surprise, no one asked for prayer for themselves. The most poignant request, though, was from an eight or nine year-old girl who was apparently dealing with some form of cancer sitting at the front of the chapel. This little girl with patches of hair on her head from chemo sat in her wheelchair and raised her hand (the one without the IV). She said in a weak voice, "I want to pray that God will help my Daddy stop smoking." A little girl so accepting of her need and position, she could focus on the needs of others. I heard the voice of Christ in her voice –while nailed to the cross in pain and agony, he voiced this prayer, "Forgive them, they don't know what they are doing."

Maybe I can strive to be more like the divine. Maybe I can learn that lesson even more clearly from this little saint.

Planting season & Marathons

The beginnings of semesters are always interesting. I am lucky in that my vocation is one that still has seasons, and August is the planting time. A new crop of freshman comes to college with their dreams and expectations. Some expect to show those professors a thing or two. Some are so overwhelmed they can barely function. But, all are excited and optimistic as they move forward into a new part of life.

Unfortunately, in a month or two, the dreams of August have faded. They no longer are idealistic. In fact, many have become cynical. Half of them change their major. A third of them will change their major twice. College isn't what they expected. Some, I never see again. They give up coming to class in favor of doing other things. But, there are those who tough it out. There are those who revise their dreams and expectations and do the work it takes to get to the end. They work with others. They plug into the student community. They get involved in BCM or a local church. They do well in their classes and really excel at the college experience.

It reminds me of the parable of the Sower (Matt 13:1-9), and I think it is an interesting metaphor for the Christian life. So many individuals have an experience with the divine and are excited and optimistic for the future. Then, they go and live in this world, and it turns out that being a Christian is hard. Family may not care. Co-workers or fellow students make it hard to be the person they need to be. Some become cynical. Some give up in favor of doing other things.

I suppose it is just another way to say that college/farming/Christianity is a marathon and not a sprint. It is showing up every day and doing everything you can to be better today than yesterday. Of course, we don't usually glamorize the marathon runner. We like the 100m or the 200m. We like "fastest man alive" or "fastest woman alive." I suppose it is harder to market "fastest man alive over a distance of 26.2 miles." That is kinda hard to put on a t-shirt. Neither is the Christian life very glamorous.

To those freshmen that start this fall, "Welcome!" and "Pace yourself! Plan on doing all the little things every day to succeed. To Christians, my prayer for each of us is "Pace yourself! Plan on doing all the little things every day to succeed." I pray we have the strength it takes to do whatever it takes to persevere, to be like Christ each day that we live. It isn't always easy. It is hard to keep our optimism and idealism when we look at this world. But, I know that with Christ and his gift of each other, we can walk forward with him—even when life doesn't turn out the way we thought it should.

Perfect Heroes & Imperfect Singers

I have discovered an interesting thing about myself. It seems I really like my heroes to be perfect. Cindy and I were having a conversation recently, and in the course of discussing what we liked and didn't like, I was forced to admit that I just don't care much for flawed heroes. I like William Wallace in Braveheart. I like William Wilberforce in Amazing Grace. I like Aragorn in the Lord of the Rings. One of my complaints with the movie adaption of Lord of the Rings is the portrayal of Faramir (Peter Jackson admitted that he characterized Faramir like he did because it was hard enough for him to conceive of one perfect hero [Aragorn], two was right out). As much as I enjoyed the new Battlestar Galactica (and I did), I did miss the original Apollo and Adama—people who were idealistic and incorruptible. Luke Skywalker is still a better hero than Anakin.

Don't get me wrong. Heroes who overcome their failings are important. I liked Han Solo, I was just a Luke guy. Robert the Bruce was great, but William Wallace's only flaw was his faith in humanity. Captain Jack Harkness is an interesting fellow, but the Doctor is more my style.

So, with the revelation in hand, I began to psycho-analyze myself wondering what dark and sinister thing this said about me. Then, as I was thinking about it, a song came on my iPod that I really enjoyed, Kate Campbell's "Prayer of Thomas Merton." Kate Campbell comes from Alabama—a fact that is no secret when listening to her sing. I thought of her twang and how distinct her voice is, and how "imperfect" her singing is compared to the expectation of the voice instructors I saw Cindy learn from. That moved my mind to other artists I like to listen to. I thought of Bob Dylan, Sam Cook, Jimmy Buffett, Rich Mullins, Alan Levi—all singers with unusual diction, lisps, gravelly voices, and they are some of my favorites. Of course, I love Andrea Bocelli, Harry Conick, Michael Bublé. I love singers who have been taught to sing well and sing right, and I have a deep appreciation for them. But, when push comes to shove, I like Peter O'Toole's "Impossible Dream" more than I do Placido Domingo.

So, why perfect heroes and imperfect singers? I am still not so sure that it doesn't say something dark and sinister about me. But, I also have decided it is probably the same reason the Bible tells us about Peter and about Jesus. We have a very human Peter who reminds us that even the best of us will make mistakes. Even the ones with the answers close at hand will have crises of faith and deny the Lord. Jesus, on the other hand, reminds us that we can aspire to much more. The perfect humanity of Jesus joined with the perfect divinity of Jesus paints a picture of what our lives can be if we are willing to join our lives with a perfect God. The mystery of incarnation brings as much challenge as it does hope. It not only shows us the way to the divine, it confronts us with just how far we are from what we were created to be.

So, I will go on connecting with my imperfect singers and aspiring to my perfect heroes—seeing myself in Peter and trying to be more like Jesus.

The World as Best as I Can Remember It

Rich Mullins had two albums in the late 80s entitled "The World as Best as I Can Remember It, Vols. 1 & 2." I never really understood the titles, even after listening to Rich explain them in an interview. He said, "It is like when you go on a camping trip, and it rains the whole time. You think you are having a terrible time, and then years later you look back on it, and it wasn't so bad. It's like that."

Though I tried, I never really understood, but I am starting to.

A few weekends ago, we went camping and canoeing as a family for the very first time. When we got on the creek to canoe, it turns out that we had unknowingly picked a creek that requires closer to intermediate canoeing skills than beginner. The current was pretty fast. The rocks were around every bend. Each of our canoes capsized at one point causing stress and concern (on a side note, why is it that canoes always capsize so that the rushing water pins them to the rocks you just hit making it impossible to move them without super-human strength? Probably, the same invisible force that makes the toast fall jelly side down). By the end of the trip, we were all tired. We all had matching 3 inch sunburns on our legs (NOTE: shorts ride up when sitting. When applying sunscreen, take this into account). We all were praying that we would see the campsite around the next bend. I was teaching my summer class, "Faith and Suffering," and all I could think about was the choice I had made to go canoeing to bring this suffering on myself.

Finally, hot, wet, tired, sweaty, and sore, we all got into the van to drive home. Then, we started telling stories of the day. We started with Thomas' apparent spider-like super powers that allowed him to leap and climb on a capsized canoe. Then moved on to the cow that was standing in the creek, and Cindy's insecurity about whether it is proper etiquette to canoe behind a cow or in front. Then we moved on to the time Daniel's paddle got stuck in a rock. When I yelled for Cindy to grab it as she went by, the current had her moving so fast, she only had time to yell, "No!" as she went past us. Daniel swatting at wasps with his paddle and almost capsizing us. Having to limbo in a canoe to avoid the fallen tree.

With each story, we laughed harder and harder. By the time we got home, the pain in my shoulders was matched by the pain in my sides from laughing. It turns out that it wasn't a "suffering" that we were enduring. It was just hard. It was the good kind of hard that is necessary for any kind of achievement. It is the hard that is required to be a good parent. It is the hard that is required to be a good husband. It is very similar to the hard that is required for academic achievement. If it was easy, everyone would do it.

We don't have a lot of people these days willing to do the "hard." It gets hard, and they get out. When I look back at my grandparents, I see people who were willing to do the "hard" whatever it was—whatever it took to succeed when the world was difficult. I pray that I have a little more of that. I pray that I am more able to do the hard work it takes for great achievement . . . and not just want to win the lottery. Then when my kids are grown, I can look back and be proud of my work as a father. I can look back on my job and be proud of the things I achieved. I can look at who I am and be proud that I was someone who was willing to do the hard and not mind remembering it. Maybe I can get there.

And, that is the world as best as I can remember it.