Houston-bound

I've arrived in Houston for part three of a three part course on Bowen Theory, aka Family Systems Theory. This is one of the final events of my sabbatical. (That was sure strange to write, as this time has gone so fast.)

According to something I read, Houston is the third largest city in the U.S., behind New York and Los Angeles. Who would've thunk? This is a very busy city, and even those who live in the suburbs are zipping from one place to the next. The people who are hosting me here are so generous. They are part of University Baptist Church, and they have become new friends to me. I would love to have them up to my neck of the woods sometime.

I'm reminiscing a bit now about the sabbatical. There were a few events that changed the trajectory and made it difficult to focus on what I wanted to, but the hidden gift was a strong reconnection with my own family and times of quiet for renewal. I had an epiphany the other day about renewal. It was a primary goal of my sabbatical (Renewal, Research, Reflection). The epiphany is that I can't say to myself "tomorrow I will be renewed." That is just a new law. Rather, I found out that a space for renewal needed to be given, with the hope that renewal will come about by the Spirit of God in Christ, and according to a timeframe and growth rate that that I was not in control over. It has been God's time to deal with me, to nurture a seed that had been planted long ago, to build up faith and the language of faith in me.

I'm heading back toward home on Thursday, and then it will be time to get ready for going back into ministry with this congregation called St. Paul.

Wallowa Preachers' Workshop

I've come home now from a time of community and learning at Wallowa Lake OR. My friend JJ Dygert and I brought a good friend from Des Moines Iowa to help us in remembering the task and opportunity of preaching. One other pastor, and a seminarian soon entering the call process, joined us to make a small group. We had a lot of conversation about our call, our role in the church as those who proclaim the Gospel publicly, and we each looked at scripture passages for the upcoming weeks.

It was such a great time of fellowship with families as well. We rode the tram at the lake. We did bumper boats, the kids played mini-golf, and we poked around the shops of Joseph for a while on the last day.

From Wallowa we went to Milton-Freewater to be with Pastor Dygert and family. Our friend Ken Jones, the teacher for the week, preached to us about the Sower and the Seeds (it's not so easy assuming we're "good seeds" is it?), and I saw him off this morning as he flies back home to be with his family.

I thank God for long-distance connections where we remember that we have remained close. Close in the Spirit of Christ. Christ draws us together and speaks through us to those who need a freeing and redeeming Word. That's what this week was all about.

Honeycombs

What are the honeycombs? I hadn't known about them until this summer. To get there, you can drive through Succor Creek campground south of Adrian, and then up those rolling hills and past Three Finger Butte. Then just park and hike in the general direction of Owyhee Reservoir.

It's not quite so random as that. We had a GPS unit with us. It was a day hike and I enjoyed myself thoroughly, minus the overheating I experienced. That was an embarrassment.

The "Honeycombs." They earned their name, sharing the same color and being pocked with the results of erosion. At a distance, we saw Dry Creek on the reservoir, with its cabins. A peaceful, stark scene.

We saw the creek below us, but had a hard time figuring out how to get down from these heights. Deserves a return trip. Crazily enough, we saw the remains of an old corral way up there, wedged between the rocks. it was an amazing sight, and I wondered who would have the strength and patience to get materials into that remote place.

There were wild horses and a few other critters, and many songbirds. Also there were wildflowers that were unfamiliar to me. Day hike require a bit of planning, but much less than hiking trips. They are a great way to get out and enjoy this wonder that we humans call "creation."

One Christian's Story

There's a retired pastor who lives in the Boise area. He spent many years on the African continent in missions. He's a man who's very curious, and the other day he asked if I knew a book that would help him learn about the religious culture of the Pacific Northwest. So I recommended this title. I'm just now finishing reading it. I give it four out of five stars. A pretty good read.

The author Don Miller lives in Portland Oregon and tells a rambling and honest story about (using language familiar in Lutheran circles) "living into" the Christian faith. The subtitle, "nonreligious thoughts on Christian spirituality" is a great way to begin describing the book. His story is told autobiographically, and he twists and turns around corners of doubt and poignant courage in speaking from his heart of faith.

It's a good book for those who want to have some of their own questions articulated (we all have these questions, or variations on those themes), and for those who want to learn more about the religious culture, or climate, of the Northwest. I have a lot to learn! As I finished this book tonight, I asked myself, "what would my story sound like?" A good reflective exercise for anyone.

Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe

While in the LA area, we took a day to visit the Getty Center. What a beautiful place, a beautiful view, there's an atmosphere of wonder there, and curiosity.

On display were many paintings, illuminated manuscripts and altar pieces representing Christ. From what I could tell the collection was exclusively European and because of the age of the pieces, mostly Roman Catholic.

I didn't participate in one of the learning tours, but my path intersected theirs a few times. The docent's approach surprised me, as well as the kinds of questions that came from the touring group.

What were the surprises? The questions asked by the group were so elementary. "The Holy Family fled to Egypt after Jesus' birth, didn't they?" The docent's response was equally foggy. "Yes, that's right. And they were fleeing from . . . Nazareth, I think."

I decided that instead of trying to be a know-it-all and setting the story straight (and then feeling like I'd scored for Jesus), I wanted to quietly continue my random route through the galleries, listening as I went.

But a thought hit me. The story of Christ, for so many, is a thing of cultural curiosity. His story is one among so many others. The devotion of the artists and the religious culture of that time are not at all disputed, in fact they are honored. The audience was awed by the artistic achievements of the past. Yet I thought to myself, why not partner with a Catholic professor in the LA area, one who is steeped in the tradition and story? Couldn't someone from the inside do a better job describing the details of the paintings and the culture?

Then another thought. My faith is one of cultural curiosity. The people are making their way through an "Olde Curiosity Shoppe," picking up the Christian faith as if it were a spoon rest with a price tag stuck to its bottom, examining it, and then setting it down. Wow. The core of my personal identity and the purpose of my vocation are met with some level of indifference. Brings about a change of perspective!

summer read for the Lincoln enthusiast

J. Wilkes Booth is infamous for becoming the first assassin of an American President in history. This is the story of the crime and the chase that followed. Swanson weaves a suspense-filled historical account of those days. How surprising it was to read about, for example, the day of the crime, the joy that had filled Washington at the news that the end of the civil war was a foregone conclusion. Lincoln was celebrated by the people, his own spirits lifted, and then comes the famous actor Booth, who is loyal to the cause of the south.

I hadn't realized until seeing this book, that William Seward was also attacked that night and barely survived. He lived many years after, and his leadership secured the purchase of Alaska from Russia. The city of Seward Alaska is named after this interesting man. He was a member of the Lincoln cabinet as Sec. of State. Before Lincoln was elected, Seward was his opponent which is another remarkable story, told very well by Doris Kearns-Goodwin in "Team of Rivals."

We're in the midst of summer, but if you'd like to read about some of the most remarkable moments of American history, this would be a great book for you.

Daddy?

We just observed Fathers' Day on Sunday. My family and I worshiped with friends at Payette Church of the Nazarene. I had the opportunity to sit with my girls during worship, up to the point where they went to children's church. Natalee was cold, so I put my arm around her. What a great experience that was, one that is rare for me as their father, since most Sundays I'm standing in front of the congregation. Once in a while at St. Paul, I notice my wife struggling a bit to keep the girls' interest.

Yesterday was the beginning of Vacation Bible School. As she was getting ready to leave, Emily said "Daddy, when are you going to come to Sunday School again?" At that moment a new perspective hit me over the head.

Changing my pattern (work, or home, vacation, etc) influences the relationships we have with individuals around us. The benefit is the opportunity to have moments like this, where the value of these relationships is recognized and appreciated. The "downside" would be that there is no way to predict how these changes would affect those individuals. The human being is a thing of change, if it's living. After even a short period of time, change comes, not necessarily with plan or purpose. This change in my pattern has been a little much for little Emily. She wants to get back to the regular pattern.

Last week, Emily and I went on a date. We went to Nampa and visited the Pet store, saw a movie (Horton Hears a Who), and went to Carl's Jr. because they have a great play area. We returned home after a great day of, according to Emily, "Two Time."