I have been in a heavy place lately. A few weeks ago some dear friends of mine lost their baby girl just 20 weeks into the pregnancy. I have dealt with the loss of friends and the loss of family but this is something you can never be even slightly prepared for.
I am having a hard time with thoughts of their agony. I will never forget my friend's facial expression as he carried the little casket across the cemetery. I will never forget the outstretched hand of a mom in the deepest of sorrows caressing the edge of that casket. I will never forget the two little girls that adorned that casket with rose pedals and sisterly care.
It halted my ever so busy life to the point where I felt light-headed in trying to reattach myself to reality of having to deal with unthinkable aspects. I never imagined myself having to make a phone call to check on pricing and details for a infant sized casket. That really messed me up. I feel frozen with questions and feel helpless to come to the aid of friends that grieve by the minute.
I feel a sense of gratitude for what I have and for what I don't have to go through. I am almost feeling guilty for the 5 beautiful children I have. That sounds weird but I guess hurt formulates all kinds of things within the thoughts that gather to try to make sense of something that is truly senseless.
I don't want to talk to God about it. Not for a while. Because it makes me confused and angry. I wonder where He is at when babies don't see the light of day and parents are crushed and wounded indefinitely.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Friday, April 2, 2010
Rollins - spokeN worD
Memories of good days and killer music came around me like a blanket last night. I sat inside the Kent Stage Theater listening to Henry Rollins rampage through the years at his Spoken Word venue. The evening started with a nice sit down meal at Ray’s Place with sweet and dear friends. Taking a walk from the bar to the theater in 74 degree weather during the first week of April in Northeast Ohio sits pretty well with me.
A sea of tattooed freaks of every age flowed intently into the theater and we all found our places and evidently the place found us. Henry came out pronto at 8pm in fifth gear. Impressive for a punk rock icon and 49 year old man who kept confessing his need for his audience to need him.
It was wild for me thinking that I saw this guy at the first Lollapalooza ever and had seen the Henry Rollins Band twice outside of that 20 some years ago. I’ll tell you that his shows as a front man were incredibly intense. You didn’t just hear Mr. Rollins, you felt him. Those were some good days and obviously great experiences.
Back to the Spoken Word venue. He touched on areas that I pretty much expected him too. But something in particular stuck out to me when he talked. He spent a lot of time dispelling things that create hate. He tackled issues that cause division. But he spoke of teenagers and how important it is for us that go before them to believe in them. To give them hope. To give them opportunity.
Henry had brought up stories of high school kids taking their lives(suicide) simply because they did not fit in. We’ve all heard the stories or perhaps have found ourselves in those stories. I know for myself that high school was the worst 4 years of my life. That’s another story filled with subtle non-violent forms of revenge that has much to do with Rock and Roll.
I was impressed to hear Henry talk about the importance of looking out for teen agers. I’d like to be able to take that seriously myself. I’d like to be able to be an inspiration to young folks in whatever ways become the tools to do just that.
It’s true that these kids are our future and I certainly am not going to sit by and tell them they’re screwed because after high school they are heading into a world full of economic hardships and evil people and give them no sense of hope. They and we are the agents of change. Hardships will always exist for they are mere elements in the mortar that builds walls of serenity and confidence.
I’m a dreamer. I’m a visionary and hands on kind of guy which is where my connect happens with that Rollins guy. Henry’s words and demeanor were prophetic to me last evening in a way that encouraged me and made me reconsider how I handle certain aspects of my life. You can’t go wrong with stopping and questioning yourself and why you do what you do every once in a while.
Good things.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Mary's Mansion
The snow is replenishing the landscape of the outdoors today after a week of rain and semi-warm weather had taken it almost all away. I do not care to see the ground without snow in the winter. Somehow the snow gives me a peace of mind as we stride through this long stretch of a season that can easily make one feel restricted by the indoors.
The sweet sound of Death Cab For Cutie's "What Sarah Said" fills my ears this morning and gently comforts my eight month old son to sleep. The repeating line, "who's gonna watch you die?", takes me back 2 summers ago to a funeral for a friend of mine that passed away at 35 years of age. Her physical health deteriorated rapidly due to a combination of diabetes and years of unfortunate drug abuse.
What reminds me of her today? What makes a line in a song bring back visions of a truly heart-wrenching memory?
I read headlines in newspapers where "evangelical Christians" that hold positions of political influence have quite astoundingly made lifeless comments on the crisis in Haiti and about people on welfare in America. These comments have ranged from Haiti getting what they deserve for "making a pact with Satan" and that people on welfare are "breeding animals as long as they have ample food supplies".
I'd love to be able to rant and rave and tear apart such individuals that hide behind expensive desks and job titles but I ascertain that their cowardice is suffering enough. I am also reminded of the broken state of being that we are all in so I dare not judge the condition of one's soul but I most certainly have a responsibility to confront the evils that lurk covertly in the name of Jesus only so that a name can be engraved upon a plaque in an office that is purposefully oblivious to the realities of poverty.
As of late, I have been embracing the instruction of such great experienced teachers such as William Wilberforce. This is a man who knew opposition as if it were a most intimate being in his life. The scripture that connects me with such a compassionate and determined man is found in 1 Peter 3:15. It says this: "Be ready to give to every one a reason for the hope that is in you." It is a scripture that Wilberforce obviously clung to and even elaborated upon it in both his writing and in action.
Wilberforce makes a far too often true observation about Christian living in his book, A Practical View of Christianity. Written a few hundred years ago it is so very quite fitting for an American Christendom today that approaches the unfulfilled hunger of success and recognition like a lion ready to pounce on it's prey. His observation being this: "Yet, is it not undeniable that with the Bible in our houses, we are ignorant of its contents; and that hence, in a great measure, it arises, that the bulk of the Christian world know so little, and mistake so greatly, in what regards the religion which they profess?"
This isn't a reference made toward how much one spends in the Bible in a legalistic sense but it is in regard to the application and digestion of what Jesus says we need as the ultimate source of "food". That is to be cleared up or perhaps the implication being made would cease to make an impact upon the purpose of our existence. Are we to but make religion into a repeated pattern that gives and prepares no way of life? I say no with great confidence and with a freedom that bellows from deep within my eternally grateful soul. Wilberforce exclaims the profound truth that we are to not be significant because of what we believe but that others may see what we practice and that the sincerity of that practice is all in all.
Mary was raised in an extremely impoverished home. It was here in this home where certain family members relieved their sexual frustrations on her because they enforced that that was what she was supposed to do for the family. By the time she was a teenager her brother began to solicit her sexuality to those that were willing to pay. She was a heroine user and addict before she hit twenty. Was the narcotic use of her fault or was it perhaps the choice of self medication that can be obtained when a therapist cannot? Mary's worldly home was supposed to be a place that she was to be able to put her trust in. Family members chose to abuse her instead of cherish her. Yet the current opinions of people of christian virtue imply that she gets what she deserves.
What do we deserve? Does Haiti deserve an earthquake that kills 150,000 men, women, children, babies, sons, daughters, moms and dads? Do people in poverty deserve to be ridiculed by these public officials that rally around a religion that ironically claims a King to be intimate and near to the poor as these officials willingly distance themselves from those in need?
I wonder of Mary and how she represents this population of the impoverished and how government officials who seek to be elevated in their positions send their distinctive grappling hooks into the Church at large with a hope to retrieve followers that choose to voluntarily embrace ignorance by impaling them with rigorous deeds that numb and blind so many from seeing the true hurt in this world. I wonder of christian men and women who talk of making the poor take drug tests before they can receive welfare or assistance when in the very Bible itself it shows Jesus feeding the multitudes and separating no one because of social standing and/or religious beliefs. I wonder of the behavior of christian leaders who mock our president as he seeks to help bring about health care for all when, again, Jesus healed lepers even when they did not know how to say thank you for the healing. Scripture implores us to give a reason for our hope and it does not give anyone the okay to dehumanize God's ultimate creation as Christ is a respecter of no man.
I remember going to the hospital to say goodbye to Mary. She had slipped into a coma and her organs began to shut down and her time with us dwindled down to just minutes. That's where that Death Cab For Cutie song takes me. We gathered around her to watch her die. To be the love around her as she died. Her friends became her only family and we wept over her with such intense hurt but all the while clinging on to the hope we all shared.
Mary knew something very significant. She knew Who truly owned her. She was the one who stood on the street corner begging for forgiveness and mercy because she knew she needed it and that she could be granted that out of pure Love. She never put herself above anyone else. She didn't live up to a bunch of rules and legalistic expectations. She suffered a great deal and more than I could ever share in this forum at the hands of her own. Yet, she knew above all else that her Father in Heaven had adopted her not just as daughter but adopted every square inch of her stained soul.
I do not pretend to know what awaits for us in heaven but I do know that perhaps I will shed indescribable tears of joy when I come upon the address of Mary's new home. I picture in thought that I am suddenly stopped by the beauty and magnificence of a house on a grassy hill where the wind blows gently across the knee high grass laden with daisies. A tire swing hangs from a mammoth oak tree whose branches spread out like arms opening up to gain a hug from any visitor that strolls within the perimeter of it's shadow. It is then I see the girl that the world tried to claim as it's own but she now radiates with the purest of joy because our King defied the worlds claims on us.
I have found Mary's Mansion. It was built for her. Just her. By the hands of the One that can simply speak it into existence. And here in this place she is repeatedly told that she deserves this simply because she is the daughter of a Great King.
The sweet sound of Death Cab For Cutie's "What Sarah Said" fills my ears this morning and gently comforts my eight month old son to sleep. The repeating line, "who's gonna watch you die?", takes me back 2 summers ago to a funeral for a friend of mine that passed away at 35 years of age. Her physical health deteriorated rapidly due to a combination of diabetes and years of unfortunate drug abuse.
What reminds me of her today? What makes a line in a song bring back visions of a truly heart-wrenching memory?
I read headlines in newspapers where "evangelical Christians" that hold positions of political influence have quite astoundingly made lifeless comments on the crisis in Haiti and about people on welfare in America. These comments have ranged from Haiti getting what they deserve for "making a pact with Satan" and that people on welfare are "breeding animals as long as they have ample food supplies".
I'd love to be able to rant and rave and tear apart such individuals that hide behind expensive desks and job titles but I ascertain that their cowardice is suffering enough. I am also reminded of the broken state of being that we are all in so I dare not judge the condition of one's soul but I most certainly have a responsibility to confront the evils that lurk covertly in the name of Jesus only so that a name can be engraved upon a plaque in an office that is purposefully oblivious to the realities of poverty.
As of late, I have been embracing the instruction of such great experienced teachers such as William Wilberforce. This is a man who knew opposition as if it were a most intimate being in his life. The scripture that connects me with such a compassionate and determined man is found in 1 Peter 3:15. It says this: "Be ready to give to every one a reason for the hope that is in you." It is a scripture that Wilberforce obviously clung to and even elaborated upon it in both his writing and in action.
Wilberforce makes a far too often true observation about Christian living in his book, A Practical View of Christianity. Written a few hundred years ago it is so very quite fitting for an American Christendom today that approaches the unfulfilled hunger of success and recognition like a lion ready to pounce on it's prey. His observation being this: "Yet, is it not undeniable that with the Bible in our houses, we are ignorant of its contents; and that hence, in a great measure, it arises, that the bulk of the Christian world know so little, and mistake so greatly, in what regards the religion which they profess?"
This isn't a reference made toward how much one spends in the Bible in a legalistic sense but it is in regard to the application and digestion of what Jesus says we need as the ultimate source of "food". That is to be cleared up or perhaps the implication being made would cease to make an impact upon the purpose of our existence. Are we to but make religion into a repeated pattern that gives and prepares no way of life? I say no with great confidence and with a freedom that bellows from deep within my eternally grateful soul. Wilberforce exclaims the profound truth that we are to not be significant because of what we believe but that others may see what we practice and that the sincerity of that practice is all in all.
Mary was raised in an extremely impoverished home. It was here in this home where certain family members relieved their sexual frustrations on her because they enforced that that was what she was supposed to do for the family. By the time she was a teenager her brother began to solicit her sexuality to those that were willing to pay. She was a heroine user and addict before she hit twenty. Was the narcotic use of her fault or was it perhaps the choice of self medication that can be obtained when a therapist cannot? Mary's worldly home was supposed to be a place that she was to be able to put her trust in. Family members chose to abuse her instead of cherish her. Yet the current opinions of people of christian virtue imply that she gets what she deserves.
What do we deserve? Does Haiti deserve an earthquake that kills 150,000 men, women, children, babies, sons, daughters, moms and dads? Do people in poverty deserve to be ridiculed by these public officials that rally around a religion that ironically claims a King to be intimate and near to the poor as these officials willingly distance themselves from those in need?
I wonder of Mary and how she represents this population of the impoverished and how government officials who seek to be elevated in their positions send their distinctive grappling hooks into the Church at large with a hope to retrieve followers that choose to voluntarily embrace ignorance by impaling them with rigorous deeds that numb and blind so many from seeing the true hurt in this world. I wonder of christian men and women who talk of making the poor take drug tests before they can receive welfare or assistance when in the very Bible itself it shows Jesus feeding the multitudes and separating no one because of social standing and/or religious beliefs. I wonder of the behavior of christian leaders who mock our president as he seeks to help bring about health care for all when, again, Jesus healed lepers even when they did not know how to say thank you for the healing. Scripture implores us to give a reason for our hope and it does not give anyone the okay to dehumanize God's ultimate creation as Christ is a respecter of no man.
I remember going to the hospital to say goodbye to Mary. She had slipped into a coma and her organs began to shut down and her time with us dwindled down to just minutes. That's where that Death Cab For Cutie song takes me. We gathered around her to watch her die. To be the love around her as she died. Her friends became her only family and we wept over her with such intense hurt but all the while clinging on to the hope we all shared.
Mary knew something very significant. She knew Who truly owned her. She was the one who stood on the street corner begging for forgiveness and mercy because she knew she needed it and that she could be granted that out of pure Love. She never put herself above anyone else. She didn't live up to a bunch of rules and legalistic expectations. She suffered a great deal and more than I could ever share in this forum at the hands of her own. Yet, she knew above all else that her Father in Heaven had adopted her not just as daughter but adopted every square inch of her stained soul.
I do not pretend to know what awaits for us in heaven but I do know that perhaps I will shed indescribable tears of joy when I come upon the address of Mary's new home. I picture in thought that I am suddenly stopped by the beauty and magnificence of a house on a grassy hill where the wind blows gently across the knee high grass laden with daisies. A tire swing hangs from a mammoth oak tree whose branches spread out like arms opening up to gain a hug from any visitor that strolls within the perimeter of it's shadow. It is then I see the girl that the world tried to claim as it's own but she now radiates with the purest of joy because our King defied the worlds claims on us.
I have found Mary's Mansion. It was built for her. Just her. By the hands of the One that can simply speak it into existence. And here in this place she is repeatedly told that she deserves this simply because she is the daughter of a Great King.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
With All These Moments
In the beginning of December I had gone to a seminar on caring for soldier's who suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder(PTSD). As I walked into the foyer of the auditorium I noticed some art work that was on display at the event. As I got closer to it I realized that it was a combination of poetry and graphic design work. Then it really blew me away when I noticed my daughter's poem was one of the pieces on display.
This would be the second year in a row that the Traveling Stanzas would select one of Campbell's poems to be put on display. It is was selected to be a part of their Peace Stanzas series. So needless to say I wept a little and was just so so so proud of her ability and gift. (These links here will show you the combined work of KSU graphic design students and local poets.)
It didn't end there. As the day progressed, the author(War and the Soul) and speaker at the seminar on PTSD, Edward Tick, requested that Campbell come to his private banquet dinner that evening and read her poem to his honored guests. What a treat that was. She read to Kent State University staff, artists, veterans, social workers, and Kent city politicians.
I am so very proud of our daughter! Here's her work that has been given for those who gave and give of themseleves:
And thee, who ripened my moments
then sweetened and baked
as tender enough to eat
and those who greatened our moments
and kneaded our bread
and made such a
such a…
Difference
This would be the second year in a row that the Traveling Stanzas would select one of Campbell's poems to be put on display. It is was selected to be a part of their Peace Stanzas series. So needless to say I wept a little and was just so so so proud of her ability and gift. (These links here will show you the combined work of KSU graphic design students and local poets.)
It didn't end there. As the day progressed, the author(War and the Soul) and speaker at the seminar on PTSD, Edward Tick, requested that Campbell come to his private banquet dinner that evening and read her poem to his honored guests. What a treat that was. She read to Kent State University staff, artists, veterans, social workers, and Kent city politicians.
I am so very proud of our daughter! Here's her work that has been given for those who gave and give of themseleves:
With All These Moments
With all these moments
which grew, then
picked, and all those
who shot, snapped, raced, across
this time of floral grace
and those
forgotten
left behind
a level of heart.
which grew, then
picked, and all those
who shot, snapped, raced, across
this time of floral grace
and those
forgotten
left behind
a level of heart.
And thee, who ripened my moments
then sweetened and baked
as tender enough to eat
and those who greatened our moments
and kneaded our bread
and made such a
such a…
Difference
Saturday, December 12, 2009
The Way We Get By - a documentary film by Aron Gaudet & Gita Pullapilly about three senior citizens & Maine Troop Greeters
This is a wonderful life-giving story/documentary of how some folks in their "old age" and last stage of life, so to speak, give their time and hearts to soldiers returning from war. LOVED IT!
The Way We Get By - a documentary film by Aron Gaudet & Gita Pullapilly about three senior citizens & Maine Troop Greeters
The Way We Get By - a documentary film by Aron Gaudet & Gita Pullapilly about three senior citizens & Maine Troop Greeters
Thursday, December 3, 2009
The Seven Storey Mountain
I like to read real life books. I like to learn from those who have experienced this life of faith and have been crushed by the weight of this world but have still grasped on to the everlasting love of a relentlessly Enduring Father.There is such a book that I have just begun. The author being Thomas Merton. It's already important to me because Merton has been important to some of my closest friends. His writing comes highly recommended and I am filled with a humble expectation to be able to lift my head towards the heavens a little more whilst reading this. It's Thomas Merton's book called "The Seven Storey Mountain". Here's what it's about:
The Seven Storey Mountain is well-described by the book's subtitle: An autobiography of faith. It is the story of Thomas James Merton's life from his birth in 1915 until his vow-taking at a Trappist monastery in 1944. It tells the story of a somewhat vagabond and restless youth searching for meaning on two continents and among a constantly-changing world stage. But while the story's setting is expansive and vividly-described—from cathedrals in Rome to cabins in up-state New York, from peaceful, isolated villages in Southern France to Allied bombing over Germany—the setting seldom carries or even affects the thrust of the narrative. The essence of Seven Storey is Merton's slow progress of philosophy and allegiance, in stages, from narcissism to communism to Catholicism to monasticism.
I look forward to this read and to hopefully share with you my literary intake as it molds my heart and mind.
Monday, November 9, 2009
For Kenn Hermann, my friend and teacher
My sweet friend, Kenn Hermann, who had taught at our church several times, died on October 31. He was by far one of the most stellar teachers that I had the opportunity to be with personally and in the "classroom"[you can see his credentials at the bottom of this entry]. His memorial service was held November 7. I had the great privilege to share about Kenn at the service and here is what I had to say:
Kenn would ask this question when he would teach the church:
“By the way, how many of you are preparing for full-time Christian service?”
And then, he would wait until everyone in the room "got it".
The first time I had met Kenn was on a Thursday evening at Late Night Christian Fellowship at Kent State. Kenn was the featured speaker that evening and was teaching on the Kingdom of God in the Old Testament. I was given the opportunity to follow up the week after him and teach on the Kingdom of God in the New Testament so I thought it would be good to see how I could follow up after this teacher. But after sitting there for an hour listening to Kenn teach the Old Testament all I could do was think:
HOW IN GOD’S NAME AM I SUPPOSED TO FOLLOW UP AFTER THIS GUY!!!!
I was in awe at how Kenn brought the Old Testament to life. I stuck around afterwards and insisted on having breakfast so we could talk. So that I could sit and listen and learn and follow this guy.
Kenn talked to you not at you. He would listen and gather your thoughts and intents and gently re-shape them and hand them back to you in a manner that would not for one second demean your input but suddenly open your heart and mind to what it is that our King is truly offering.
Someone once said, “Anybody can make the simple difficult, but it takes a gifted teacher to make the difficult understandable.”
Kenn was that gifted teacher. Kenn had the ability to help you find yourself living in a story where God calls all the shots. Kenn ultimately helped you take delight in the fact that God has the last word on everything and the immense comfort and joy that that brings.
When the church first started some 2,000 years ago men and women came to believe that God was alive in them and amongst them and so everything suddenly became re-thought, re-centered, re-imagined... Kenn reminded us that God is alive and well in us today and that we too must suddenly find ourselves re-thinking, re-centering, re-imagining and how we too should be continuing to tell stories of Jesus as shared experiences.
It was crucial to me as a pastor to be able to sit under Kenn and patiently wait for whatever he had to offer. Except I didn’t have patience so I’d coerce him into having breakfast at the Wild Goat so that I could extract as much as possible from his storehouse of wisdom. I made every effort to have Kenn come and teach our community as much as possible.
At first, I was clueless to the high-caliber ability and gifting that Kenn truly was as a teacher and scholar because he never for one second made that something that you needed to know. You quickly learned it though by his passion when he talked of the things to come and of the Kingdom here and now. Heck, even the doubters and atheists around the city of Kent respect Kenn and appreciated him for being a stellar teacher.
When I was with Kenn it seemed that all of his accomplishments as a teacher and as an apprentice of Jesus were simply there as signs that consistently, coherently and conclusively pointed to Jesus. For example, the first thing he said to me after his first brain surgery was, “God has been so good to me.” And he wept tears of joy in the face of cancer.
But the most beautiful sign was by far his constant and absolute delight in his wife, Linda. I am forever moved and impacted especially by the moments in the last few weeks in which Kenn being unable to speak would clasp his hand in Linda’s and their fingers intertwined and locked and there I saw and not heard the most profound lesson. Love truly conquers all. I watched his eyes brighten up at every appearance of his daughters or at the sound of his sister’s voice. And Shae-Lynn... how he talked with great joy of his grand-daughter - you would've thought the sun was rising every time he mentioned her name.
I had only known Kenn for about 3 years but I would have followed him for another 30.
About Kenn:
Surrounded by his family, Kenn Hermann, 64, of Kent, died peacefully at home on October 31 (Reformation Day) following a courageous battle with brain cancer.
Kenn was born in Rochester, Minn. on January 16, 1945, to William Henry and Ruth Lois (Huff) Hermann. He earned his M.A. from Michigan State University and his Ph.D. in 19th Century U.S. History from Kent State University. In 1980, the family relocated from Urbana, Illinois to Kent, Ohio. His passion for teaching and inspiring college students to think christianly about university studies led to the founding of Radix Christian Ministries. His popular course, C-POL (Christian Perspectives on Learning) was taught through the Experimental Program in the Honors College at Kent State. Kenn wanted students to be critical thinkers. In his on-line course, Technology and Culture, students were challenged to think about how technology has influenced our culture. In addition to teaching at Kent State and the Univ. of Akron, he taught at several private colleges. Internationally, he taught for two years at Kosin University in Pusan, South Korea.
Books were an important part of Kenn's life. His personal library grew to thousands, requiring him to find alternate storage places. Thinking about retirement, he opened an on-line used bookstore for scholars and serious readers called Black Squirrel Books (www.blacksquirrelbooks.com)
Kenn is survived by his wife of 41 years, Linda Jo Ellen (Berg); daughters, Jennifer Hermann (partner Darryl Dieckman) of Cincinnati and Michelle Hilliard of Stow; granddaughter, Shaelynn (Shae-Shae) Hilliard; sister, Shari Pfeifer of Minneapolis, Minn.; step-mother, Lola Hermann of Bartlesville, OK; the Berg brothers-in-law and their spouses; and many nieces and nephews. He was preceded in death by his parents.
Kenn is a member of the Akron Christian Reformed Church which was integral in bringing him to Kent.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
Ku Klux Klansmen gets healed
This is just a spectacular interview that shows the great inescapable power of the great love of God that He shares with and through His kids:
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Traveling Stanzas
My 10 year old daughter, Belle, has had one of her many poems become a part of a Kent State and Kent Schools project that utilizes local poets connecting with KSU artists. Here's the story: Design Students and Grade Schoolers.
Her poem is on Metro and Parta buses all over Akron. Humbling to say the least.
Her poem is on Metro and Parta buses all over Akron. Humbling to say the least.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Moses Mark Budzar
Last night at 10:19pm Beth delivered our new 8 pound 12 ounce, 22 1/4 inch long son.
His name is Moses Mark.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
Can't Sleep
I couldn't sleep last night so I got up to read and write and noticed I had an email from my sister, Molly, who is a teacher in the inner city Cleveland school system. Her email entitled "Help" is a common banner that waves over the hearts of the compassionate. I figured this is real life stuff and felt it would be good to share. Here is her email(in italics) and then my response:
Hey Scott,
Hope all is well with your darling and growing family. I was wondering if you could offer me some friendly insight. I have a student this year and I had his brother last year and my colleague had the younger brother last year (2nd grader). The 2nd grader was raped when he was 3 by a "family member" and so was his brother who is 3 years older. The family never got counseling and never charged the "family member".
The poor kids are like zombies and it is sickening. I ended up calling family services which turned out to be a big mess. Anyway the brother I have this year has his own mental/learning/social problems and I just try to be as compassionate and attentive to him as one could possibly be. The other day I asked him why he was going to the dentist (which is a very rare appt. for my students to have) so much lately and he said he had 31 cavities.
I don't sleep as it is, but with this family I have been up so much over the past 2 years wondering how a God we are supposed to live by can allow this. I did read the Shack about a month ago and felt like I could walk on water when I was done (it took me maybe 12 hours and about the same to give mom and dad a copy). Anyway I just DON'T understand how this is allowed when soooooooooo many of us are blessed and fortunate to have a job, heat, home, insurance, loved ones and then I look into his eyes only for them to not be able to look into mine, I am sure out of pure lack of any kind of esteem. Anyway I was hoping you could give me your expert advice. Hope all is well.
Love,
Molly G
[my response]
Hey sweetheart,
I'm up right now at 4:30am because I can't sleep either. It's pretty cool to check my email and see that you have written this. Maybe this is why I can't sleep tonight.
I was helping a homeless lady move out of the domestic violence shelter on Friday and into an apartment. It was the first place she has ever been able to call an actual home. She's 45 years old.
You would have thought we were moving her into a 5 star place because of how emotional she was when we got to her new "home". It was just a little efficiency in the crap part of town. But it was all hers and just hers and no one can tell her different. No one will beat her down anymore.
I hear these stories like what you are sharing and I find myself asking the same questions too. I find myself yelling within my heart at God. Wondering why. I want vengeance. I want to find these monsters that kill the hearts of children. That beat up women. That destroy a young boy's manhood.
And then I see that it becomes what I want and no longer what I can do.
It becomes what I want and I stop asking God what He wants.
It becomes what I want and I forget that He is mighty to save.
When Hurricane Katrina hit one of the most distressing things that happened was that children began suffering and dying because there was no clean water. Questions arose in the hearts of parents if they should drink the salt water(which is a sure death) to stay alive another day. Clean water was unavailable and children began to die here in America.
Then America responded with overwhelming amounts of food, water and clothes even so much that a friend of mine that went to help spent most of his time sorting through rotting food that was given but could not be obtained because there was not enough manpower to set up food lines and soup kitchens. It is one thing to send aid but the greatest source of aid is us giving ourselves. Finding and delivering resources ourselves. Extending our own hands out to the helpless instead of paying someone else to do it.
Emily Dickinson wrote this:
"If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain.
If I can cease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
up to his nest again,
I shall not live in vain."
Isaiah 58:10 says this:
"If you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday."
We are a commodity of hope. We cash in our lives so that others may live. But it is an effort that costs portions of our lives. Our agendas have to be forfeited or people will suffer. There is one thing that darkness cannot do. It cannot extinguish light. A small birthday candle in the middle of a darkened stadium cannot be overcome by the tremendous amount of darkness. It softly and calmly remains a light.
I am convinced that most of the suffering that you and I see is not just because of the "monsters" out there or because God is looking the other way but because the church in America simply does not want be inconvenienced unless some kind of trophy comes with it.
What is tragic are the things we are helpless to stop from happening. But there are injustices that we can put an end to. But we must remain lit in the midst of this darkness. The darkness looks like 31 cavities and the neglect that blankets that young man. You are the light in the dark of his day. And like Isaiah said, your light will rise in the darkness. It will.
Embrace the small things that you can do for those that suffer. Beth sets up these Pampering Nights for the abused women from the shelter. We get people who know how to professionally cut hair, do manicures and pedicures, massages, and who know how to laugh and they donate their vocations for a night. They give away what they have just for a couple of hours with no strings attached. We've seen haircuts and pedicures rescue these women from dark places. Who would've thought that nail polish would be a life preserver?
It is good that you lose sleep over these kids. It is good that your heart breaks for them. Let the helpless feelings be the motivator to not stand by but to find the small things that you can do for these kids as they are given time to be around you who shine with the love of Christ. Ask God to help you see the small things that rescue.
peace and be,
scott
Hey Scott,
Hope all is well with your darling and growing family. I was wondering if you could offer me some friendly insight. I have a student this year and I had his brother last year and my colleague had the younger brother last year (2nd grader). The 2nd grader was raped when he was 3 by a "family member" and so was his brother who is 3 years older. The family never got counseling and never charged the "family member".
The poor kids are like zombies and it is sickening. I ended up calling family services which turned out to be a big mess. Anyway the brother I have this year has his own mental/learning/social problems and I just try to be as compassionate and attentive to him as one could possibly be. The other day I asked him why he was going to the dentist (which is a very rare appt. for my students to have) so much lately and he said he had 31 cavities.
I don't sleep as it is, but with this family I have been up so much over the past 2 years wondering how a God we are supposed to live by can allow this. I did read the Shack about a month ago and felt like I could walk on water when I was done (it took me maybe 12 hours and about the same to give mom and dad a copy). Anyway I just DON'T understand how this is allowed when soooooooooo many of us are blessed and fortunate to have a job, heat, home, insurance, loved ones and then I look into his eyes only for them to not be able to look into mine, I am sure out of pure lack of any kind of esteem. Anyway I was hoping you could give me your expert advice. Hope all is well.
Love,
Molly G
[my response]
Hey sweetheart,
I'm up right now at 4:30am because I can't sleep either. It's pretty cool to check my email and see that you have written this. Maybe this is why I can't sleep tonight.
I was helping a homeless lady move out of the domestic violence shelter on Friday and into an apartment. It was the first place she has ever been able to call an actual home. She's 45 years old.
You would have thought we were moving her into a 5 star place because of how emotional she was when we got to her new "home". It was just a little efficiency in the crap part of town. But it was all hers and just hers and no one can tell her different. No one will beat her down anymore.
I hear these stories like what you are sharing and I find myself asking the same questions too. I find myself yelling within my heart at God. Wondering why. I want vengeance. I want to find these monsters that kill the hearts of children. That beat up women. That destroy a young boy's manhood.
And then I see that it becomes what I want and no longer what I can do.
It becomes what I want and I stop asking God what He wants.
It becomes what I want and I forget that He is mighty to save.
When Hurricane Katrina hit one of the most distressing things that happened was that children began suffering and dying because there was no clean water. Questions arose in the hearts of parents if they should drink the salt water(which is a sure death) to stay alive another day. Clean water was unavailable and children began to die here in America.
Then America responded with overwhelming amounts of food, water and clothes even so much that a friend of mine that went to help spent most of his time sorting through rotting food that was given but could not be obtained because there was not enough manpower to set up food lines and soup kitchens. It is one thing to send aid but the greatest source of aid is us giving ourselves. Finding and delivering resources ourselves. Extending our own hands out to the helpless instead of paying someone else to do it.
Emily Dickinson wrote this:
"If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain.
If I can cease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
up to his nest again,
I shall not live in vain."
Isaiah 58:10 says this:
"If you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday."
We are a commodity of hope. We cash in our lives so that others may live. But it is an effort that costs portions of our lives. Our agendas have to be forfeited or people will suffer. There is one thing that darkness cannot do. It cannot extinguish light. A small birthday candle in the middle of a darkened stadium cannot be overcome by the tremendous amount of darkness. It softly and calmly remains a light.
I am convinced that most of the suffering that you and I see is not just because of the "monsters" out there or because God is looking the other way but because the church in America simply does not want be inconvenienced unless some kind of trophy comes with it.
What is tragic are the things we are helpless to stop from happening. But there are injustices that we can put an end to. But we must remain lit in the midst of this darkness. The darkness looks like 31 cavities and the neglect that blankets that young man. You are the light in the dark of his day. And like Isaiah said, your light will rise in the darkness. It will.
Embrace the small things that you can do for those that suffer. Beth sets up these Pampering Nights for the abused women from the shelter. We get people who know how to professionally cut hair, do manicures and pedicures, massages, and who know how to laugh and they donate their vocations for a night. They give away what they have just for a couple of hours with no strings attached. We've seen haircuts and pedicures rescue these women from dark places. Who would've thought that nail polish would be a life preserver?
It is good that you lose sleep over these kids. It is good that your heart breaks for them. Let the helpless feelings be the motivator to not stand by but to find the small things that you can do for these kids as they are given time to be around you who shine with the love of Christ. Ask God to help you see the small things that rescue.
peace and be,
scott
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Life - Good Life Stuff
I took my Luke to the barber shop for the first time. It was great life stuff. Me and my son just hanging out at the Barber Shop. He loved it! Priceless moments are just like this.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
With or against? a reflection on living in a pluralistic society
A combination of bumper stickers confronted me today. One sticker was in support of a specific political party and the other sticker said this: God Is TOO Big To Fit Into Just One Religion.
Now, living where I live - I can easily put together exactly where this type of statement is being aimed at. Honestly, how many of us would say in response to a bumper sticker like that that it is a shot at the Muslim or at the Buddhist.
It’s unfortunately obvious that it is pointed toward the direction of any Christian within range of the bumper of the car. So I’d like to approach this statement for what it is worth but also for what it truly does miss and how it contradicts itself.
We live in a society where we are afraid to offend someone by what we may say or do or even believe. But is that really true? Or has the power to manipulate through fear tactics changed hands or just become attractive to someone else who has their own collection of rocks to throw?
Good intentions that still clench divisive attributes. After all, the determination to get others to set aside their faith and convictions in order to be embracing toward someone else’s faith and convictions certainly does not apply the demonstration of one’s faith but more over it creates a greater divide.
We are living in a pluralistic society. There are many beliefs that wait around our every corner and watch our every move each and every day. Beliefs that aren’t by any means beliefs that I would choose to conform to but are also beliefs that do indeed contain some truths and valuable insight to living. This very mindset is as evident in our world today as the golden arches of a McDonald’s restaurant and was so in Paul the apostle’s day.
As a Christian, if I say the word pluralistic it may be received as if I am drawing a line around my self and saying, “Stay out and away with your beliefs”. Dallas Willard in 1992 wrote an article about this. He wrote:
“... pluralism is not a bad arrangement. It is a good thing. It is, in fact, a social expression of the kind of respect and care for the individual that is dictated by trust in God and love of neighbor. Therefore the Christian does not oppose pluralism as a social principle. Pluralism simply means that social or political force is not to be used to suppress the freedom of thought and expression of any citizen, or even the practice that flows from it, insofar as that practice is not morally wrong.”
You know most “visitors” that I sit down with to talk about what kind of church I pastor usually whip out two questions:
How do you feel about abortion?
How do you feel about homosexuality?
I have learned over the years that they aren’t asking sincere questions but are irrationally taking a swing at Christianity. I say irrational because there is almost always no goal to be reached in the discussion that has no intention to bring about fruit in the first place. There is inevitably a stretch and grasp for a futile discussion that promotes more divisiveness than actual “neighboring”. It turns into a “Are you with us or against us?” discussion.
And there it is: Are you with us or against us?
Every “religion” has boundaries no matter how accepting and/or open one may claim to be. You cannot envelope yourself in Hinduism and call yourself a true Buddhist and demand the Muslim to abide in your system. Well, maybe in Hollywood you can.
A bumper sticker that seemingly disarms the narrow-mindedness of Christianity and sets up a religion that is an “all inclusive enlightenment” is really in fact saying that what I believe is wrong and what the sticker-bearer believes is right. So because I, like Joseph who was discredited for believing in one God, give full allegiance and all my life to Christ and His way - I am somehow not loving my neighbor because I don’t embrace someone else's religion according to their standards. Whaaaat?!?!
That is what kills relationships: to forcefully and willingly choose to begin a relationship based on known chasm builders. If I want to embrace you or hope to embrace you as friend, as neighbor - then I am not going to get far if I ream you out for using asphalt instead of concrete to pave your driveway and then ask you over for dinner only and after you have replaced the asphalt with concrete.
It is amazing how many times I hear someone say “Love your neighbor” when a disagreement arises. This is the falsity that comes with the embracing of many ideas and philosophies over actually applying them and living them out. How is it that if I disagree then it means that I don’t love?
HYPOTHETICAL SCENARIO:
If I say homosexuality is a sin to someone who genuinely asks me what I think then - I am homophobic.
or...
If I take my friend shopping for a Celine Dion Cd and help him purchase drag clothes for his lip-syncing performance at a gay bar because he needs the extra cash then I am now a Fag-Enabler.
In either case, love as much as disagreement is certainly capable of being present. And... in each case the name calling and throwing stones from a distance is to be expected by those observers who simply, in my opinion, fear living.
Love is full of disagreements. I do not base my marriage to my wife on balancing out our disagreements so that I may measure her love for me and then let her know that she is unloving because she has disagreed with me on something. My life was literally saved because my wife disagreed with me on something. Because she loved me enough to disagree on my decisions she ultimately rescued me. She rescued me.
My allegiance is to God and whatever is pleasing to Him is my desire. So I do for Him what He identifies as good and necessary. What I need flows from this. What I do will be judged righteously by Him and Him alone. I do not need to be cool with the culture nor does Christianity need any sort of limelight approval from society or the media in order for it to flourish.
I have a very close friend of mine who is a Buddhist. I don’t hang out with him so that I can convert him. I hang out with him because I love him. We hang out and do things together because we make a difference in this world when we work together and even when we talk together and even when we laugh together. We clothe the naked. We feed the hungry. We love the stranger. We love Irish music. We love tattoos. We love really good coffee. I don’t need to convert to Buddhism in order to do these things or in order to be his friend and nor does he need to become a Christian so that I may approve him worthy.
I am not here to represent Christianity. I am here because I have my being in Him who has always been and will be. In Him I breathe. In Him I move. In Him I love.
The God I have come to love(and only because He loved on me with a love I had not yet known) is most definitely too big for any religion. In fact, He despises religion and anything that tastes of it, smells like it, or even whispers a sound of it.
I follow Jesus whom is my King. I am not ashamed of that nor will I hide my love for Him because someone says how much they hate the church and Jesus because someone was a bad example of it. I give my life for Him and in honor of Him. I follow what I believe to be the One True God.
I do not follow Jesus so I can point at those who do not follow Him and create a judgment seat to file in the non-believer and sit them upon it. I do not follow Jesus so that I can prove that He is the way. I do not judge the values of a Buddhist on Christian principles. I expect not to be judged by a Unitarian who embraces multiple faiths over my belief in one. I am more than prepared to stand and love in the midst of a pluralistic society. I am confident because the Kingdom is already at hand and it will have no end. That is not arrogance - it is passion.
The words of Christ are flung from one end of an argument to another and the ones picked out as weapons seem to always be “Love your neighbor” and “Do not judge”. Candy coated heat-seeking missiles that are actually used to decisively separate for the mere purpose of finding out “who is against us” - no matter where one sits.
Jesus was crucified by corrupt politicians and religious leaders who could not get Him to bend to their practices nor their way. Irrational decision making in “gotta have my way” gangs is what drove nails into the hands that healed lepers and embraced the shattered lives of prostitutes.
Today my friend is moving a single mom into a new apartment. He and the church he is pastoring have unanimously agreed to pay for her rent for the next year so that she may be restored back into her life. They do this collectively because of the One God they serve lives in them and His attributes are lived out through them.
I guess they could let a bumper sticker do all the talking and then they wouldn’t have to deal with the commitment to care for their neighbor. But I’m glad that their faith is the evidence of what is not seen because a homeless mom with kids will be warm and fed tonight.
People need help not stickers.
Now, living where I live - I can easily put together exactly where this type of statement is being aimed at. Honestly, how many of us would say in response to a bumper sticker like that that it is a shot at the Muslim or at the Buddhist.
It’s unfortunately obvious that it is pointed toward the direction of any Christian within range of the bumper of the car. So I’d like to approach this statement for what it is worth but also for what it truly does miss and how it contradicts itself.
We live in a society where we are afraid to offend someone by what we may say or do or even believe. But is that really true? Or has the power to manipulate through fear tactics changed hands or just become attractive to someone else who has their own collection of rocks to throw?
Good intentions that still clench divisive attributes. After all, the determination to get others to set aside their faith and convictions in order to be embracing toward someone else’s faith and convictions certainly does not apply the demonstration of one’s faith but more over it creates a greater divide.
We are living in a pluralistic society. There are many beliefs that wait around our every corner and watch our every move each and every day. Beliefs that aren’t by any means beliefs that I would choose to conform to but are also beliefs that do indeed contain some truths and valuable insight to living. This very mindset is as evident in our world today as the golden arches of a McDonald’s restaurant and was so in Paul the apostle’s day.
As a Christian, if I say the word pluralistic it may be received as if I am drawing a line around my self and saying, “Stay out and away with your beliefs”. Dallas Willard in 1992 wrote an article about this. He wrote:
“... pluralism is not a bad arrangement. It is a good thing. It is, in fact, a social expression of the kind of respect and care for the individual that is dictated by trust in God and love of neighbor. Therefore the Christian does not oppose pluralism as a social principle. Pluralism simply means that social or political force is not to be used to suppress the freedom of thought and expression of any citizen, or even the practice that flows from it, insofar as that practice is not morally wrong.”
You know most “visitors” that I sit down with to talk about what kind of church I pastor usually whip out two questions:
How do you feel about abortion?
How do you feel about homosexuality?
I have learned over the years that they aren’t asking sincere questions but are irrationally taking a swing at Christianity. I say irrational because there is almost always no goal to be reached in the discussion that has no intention to bring about fruit in the first place. There is inevitably a stretch and grasp for a futile discussion that promotes more divisiveness than actual “neighboring”. It turns into a “Are you with us or against us?” discussion.
And there it is: Are you with us or against us?
Every “religion” has boundaries no matter how accepting and/or open one may claim to be. You cannot envelope yourself in Hinduism and call yourself a true Buddhist and demand the Muslim to abide in your system. Well, maybe in Hollywood you can.
A bumper sticker that seemingly disarms the narrow-mindedness of Christianity and sets up a religion that is an “all inclusive enlightenment” is really in fact saying that what I believe is wrong and what the sticker-bearer believes is right. So because I, like Joseph who was discredited for believing in one God, give full allegiance and all my life to Christ and His way - I am somehow not loving my neighbor because I don’t embrace someone else's religion according to their standards. Whaaaat?!?!
That is what kills relationships: to forcefully and willingly choose to begin a relationship based on known chasm builders. If I want to embrace you or hope to embrace you as friend, as neighbor - then I am not going to get far if I ream you out for using asphalt instead of concrete to pave your driveway and then ask you over for dinner only and after you have replaced the asphalt with concrete.
It is amazing how many times I hear someone say “Love your neighbor” when a disagreement arises. This is the falsity that comes with the embracing of many ideas and philosophies over actually applying them and living them out. How is it that if I disagree then it means that I don’t love?
HYPOTHETICAL SCENARIO:
If I say homosexuality is a sin to someone who genuinely asks me what I think then - I am homophobic.
or...
If I take my friend shopping for a Celine Dion Cd and help him purchase drag clothes for his lip-syncing performance at a gay bar because he needs the extra cash then I am now a Fag-Enabler.
In either case, love as much as disagreement is certainly capable of being present. And... in each case the name calling and throwing stones from a distance is to be expected by those observers who simply, in my opinion, fear living.
Love is full of disagreements. I do not base my marriage to my wife on balancing out our disagreements so that I may measure her love for me and then let her know that she is unloving because she has disagreed with me on something. My life was literally saved because my wife disagreed with me on something. Because she loved me enough to disagree on my decisions she ultimately rescued me. She rescued me.
My allegiance is to God and whatever is pleasing to Him is my desire. So I do for Him what He identifies as good and necessary. What I need flows from this. What I do will be judged righteously by Him and Him alone. I do not need to be cool with the culture nor does Christianity need any sort of limelight approval from society or the media in order for it to flourish.
I have a very close friend of mine who is a Buddhist. I don’t hang out with him so that I can convert him. I hang out with him because I love him. We hang out and do things together because we make a difference in this world when we work together and even when we talk together and even when we laugh together. We clothe the naked. We feed the hungry. We love the stranger. We love Irish music. We love tattoos. We love really good coffee. I don’t need to convert to Buddhism in order to do these things or in order to be his friend and nor does he need to become a Christian so that I may approve him worthy.
I am not here to represent Christianity. I am here because I have my being in Him who has always been and will be. In Him I breathe. In Him I move. In Him I love.
The God I have come to love(and only because He loved on me with a love I had not yet known) is most definitely too big for any religion. In fact, He despises religion and anything that tastes of it, smells like it, or even whispers a sound of it.
I follow Jesus whom is my King. I am not ashamed of that nor will I hide my love for Him because someone says how much they hate the church and Jesus because someone was a bad example of it. I give my life for Him and in honor of Him. I follow what I believe to be the One True God.
I do not follow Jesus so I can point at those who do not follow Him and create a judgment seat to file in the non-believer and sit them upon it. I do not follow Jesus so that I can prove that He is the way. I do not judge the values of a Buddhist on Christian principles. I expect not to be judged by a Unitarian who embraces multiple faiths over my belief in one. I am more than prepared to stand and love in the midst of a pluralistic society. I am confident because the Kingdom is already at hand and it will have no end. That is not arrogance - it is passion.
The words of Christ are flung from one end of an argument to another and the ones picked out as weapons seem to always be “Love your neighbor” and “Do not judge”. Candy coated heat-seeking missiles that are actually used to decisively separate for the mere purpose of finding out “who is against us” - no matter where one sits.
Jesus was crucified by corrupt politicians and religious leaders who could not get Him to bend to their practices nor their way. Irrational decision making in “gotta have my way” gangs is what drove nails into the hands that healed lepers and embraced the shattered lives of prostitutes.
Today my friend is moving a single mom into a new apartment. He and the church he is pastoring have unanimously agreed to pay for her rent for the next year so that she may be restored back into her life. They do this collectively because of the One God they serve lives in them and His attributes are lived out through them.
I guess they could let a bumper sticker do all the talking and then they wouldn’t have to deal with the commitment to care for their neighbor. But I’m glad that their faith is the evidence of what is not seen because a homeless mom with kids will be warm and fed tonight.
People need help not stickers.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
U2 Connections: Eugene Peterson
Here is an article I enjoyed reading since U2 has been a favorite band of mine since 1980 and Eugene Peterson is such an amazing scholar and teacher of Scripture!!
U2 Connections : Eugene Peterson
[photo: Eugene Peterson}
What can I give back to God for the blessings he's poured out on me? I'll lift high the cup of salvation -- A toast to God! I'll pray in the name of God; I'll complete what I promised God I'd do, And I'll do it together with his people.
Sound familiar? Bono recited these lines, or some variation on them, before "Where the Streets Have No Name" throughout the Elevation tour. U2-watchers online quickly traced them to Psalm 116. You'd be hard-pressed to find an expression like "a toast to God!" in the Bible on the family bookshelf, however. Most fans, if they gave the matter any thought, probably assumed Bono had done a little creative paraphrasing. Bono putting an ear-catching spin on Biblical passages is, after all, nothing new. (He once described Jesus summing the law into "Love God and love your neighbor as you love yourself," then saying "That's what I'm about! That's my Greatest Hits!") But just like all those uncredited lyrics from other people's songs that end up sung during U2 concerts, this translation of Psalm 116 was not a Bono original. It is the work of Eugene Peterson, poet, Professor Emeritus at Regent College in Vancouver, and for 35 years a pastor.
Does the name sound familiar? Bono's been dropping that line for the last several years, even mentioning that he'd been reading Peterson's translation of the New Testament to his dying father. However, the fact that he swiped Peterson's Psalm 116 for the introduction to Streets hasn't come up.
Peterson's complete American English translation of the Christian Scriptures, The Message Bible, hits bookshelves in July. In the promotional materials heralding this, a story is told of Peterson and U2: "Once, while teaching in Vancouver, some of Peterson's students became very excited because Bono of the rock band U2 said The Message was the most important book he'd read in his whole life. The students thought this a great triumph. Eugene didn't recognize either Bono or U2."
So when interviewing Peterson for @U2 (a project which went through most communications media: I emailed the questions to NavPress, publisher of The Message, and they mailed me the answers Peterson faxed back to them), I asked first if he had learned any more about the band. "Yes, I am familiar with Bono and U-2 [sic]. A year or so ago (maybe less) their chaplain/pastor who was traveling with them at the time, called and asked me to come to Chicago to meet them. I wasn't able to get away at the time but I had a lovely conversation with him. And many of my younger friends and ex-students keep me posted on the latest from U-2. When the Rolling Stones [sic] interview with them came out a few months ago, I got clippings sent to me from all over the world!"
(Presumably he's referring here to the Rolling Stone interview in December of 2001, where Bono was asked about his favorite reading materials: "...there's a translation of Scriptures -- the New Testament and the Books of Wisdom -- that this guy Eugene Peterson has undertaken. It has been a great strength to me. He's a poet and a scholar, and he's brought the text back to the tone in which the books were written.")
What did he think about having a quote from his work recited, uncredited, in front of 20,000 concertgoers at a time?
"My reaction? Pleased, very pleased. Bono is singing to the very people I did this work for. I feel that we are allies in this. He is helping get me and The Message into the company of the very people Jesus spent much of his time with."
The seed for The Message was planted during his pastoral work, Peterson says in a press release. He was trying to get across the fire and wild words of Paul's letter to the Galatians in a Bible study class, but his parishioners were paying more attention to the pot of coffee in the church basement. "It was just awful. They'd fill up their coffee cups and stir in sugar and cream and look at their cups and they weren't getting it. It was just really bad. I went home after the third week and said to my wife that I was going to teach them Greek. If they could read it in Greek they would get it, they'd understand what a revolutionary text it is and couldn't just keep living in their ruts. She agreed that would empty the class out fast."
Instead, Peterson translated Galatians himself. In the interview with @U2 he explains his approach to this and other books of the Bible: "The largest influence on the work of The Message, after the Greek and Hebrew text itself, was 35 years working as a pastor, listening, listening, listening to people, trying to get these original texts in their idiom, their imaginations, the way they talked. I always felt I was on the border of two countries where they spoke different languages -- the bible language and the American language. I kept asking myself, if Isaiah or John were writing what they wrote for these people I am living with, how would they say it?"
Here's an example of that approach, from the sixth chapter of Galatians: "Make a careful exploration of who you are and the work you have been given, and then sink yourself into that. Don't be impressed with yourself. Don't compare yourself with others. Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life."
All of Paul's letters have this vibrancy in Peterson's translation. How did working these (which, being letters, have a built-in immediacy) into contemporary language compare to working on the other books, with their variety of moods and tones?
"Paul is an extravagant, inventive poet. His syntax is sometimes wild. It's an adventure to enter into his imagination and get the same sounds and meanings in American. The gospels were very different, much more difficult because there is a simplicity and directness that is a real challenge to get across into American English. By the time I got to the Old Testament I was prepared for the variations in style and the long stretches of poetry."
It would be interesting to find out from Bono just why he has been so impressed by this translation. Peterson can't speak to that, but he can talk about reactions from people in similar circumstance to Bono's. "When I started this, I really had in mind people who had never read the Bible before," he says. "What took me by surprise and continues to please me is how many speak or write to me as 'having read the Bible all my life and now, finally, I get it.'"
Bono's familiarity with the Bible is evident through his lyrics, but he doesn't seem to have been calcified by custom into the "my Bible is the only Bible" syndrome. This can happen when someone is brought up to read the Bible, or certain passages, so many times that the word choices of a given translation are confused with the Holy Writ itself. Bono's unusual religious upbringing and allergic reaction to fundamentalism may have helped keep him from thinking that Jesus spoke in, say, King James English. A similar trap, which I confess colors my ability to fully appreciate The Message Bible, opens up because most translations have been made in the best and most literary writing possible. One can come to love the language so much, the meaning becomes secondary. For example, there is a passage in the twelfth chapter of Hebrews which is rendered in exquisite prose in "my" Bible:
"You have not approached that which could be touched and a blazing fire and gloomy darkness and storm and a trumpet blast and a voice speaking words such that those who heard begged that no message be further addressed to them..."
The Message Bible's take on the same words seems flat by comparison:
"Unlike your ancestors, you didn't come to Mount Sinai -- all that volcanic blaze and earthshaking rumble -- to hear God speak."
When asked, Peterson says he has received very few complaints that he tinkered with well-loved language. "I was prepared for an all-out assault but I have received very little opposition or criticism. Maybe there has been a shift in our population from a bible reading people who know their bibles well and have no reason to want something different, to a non-bible reading country with a huge population of people who go to U-2 concerts who didn't know that anything like this bible even existed. And when they learn about it they are ready to read."
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