unlikely places

hanging out listening to T.S.O.
and this song comes on:

in a stable
in a manger
in the cold winter's air
in the arms of his mother
a child's lying there

in a city
in a village
though the years have gone by
the child still remains
with the dream still close by

and each year on this night teh Child
reawakens
and each year on this night that hope rebegins
that the dream he has offered might one day
be taken

for the sake of our brother
for the child who's forgotten
for the dream that is still lying there

o' come all ye faithful
joyful and triumphant
o' come ye, o' come ye,
to bethlehem
come and adore him
born the king of angels

o' come let us adore him
o' come let us adore him
o' come let us adore him
Christ the Lord

in a stable
in a manger
in the cold winter's air
in the arms of his mother a child lying there

just thought i'd share that...
because once again the "normal people" know what it's about
while the church fumbles and bumbles and stumbles
and says "it's all about me."

meanderings

In the midst of the craziness and chaos you still found a way in.
Right when I least expected it, you snuck in and squeezed my heart.
I half expected it would happen by candlelight,
(but I should know by now to expect the unexpected)
and my voice hitched
and my heart swelled
and you were there
to hold me up.


Funny how it happens like that.
Guess Mom and Dad were right:
"Don't worry," they said, "You'll know."
(Love and Baptism)
And I guess I should look both ways before crossing the street, too.
Because I was looking down the road to "Silent Night" and prepared for the beautiful pain of that moment,
but somehow you snuck in on the word "glory."


I thought I was going to be too busy to see you this year--
thought you might have missed me since we got the new house
(and, no Santa, I don't mean you...)
But Refugee of the refugees you sought me out
and slowed down my pace just enough
to help me see the homeless child
The Pilgrim of pilgrims
and once again
it broke
and the springs of living water flow.

God meets Scandal meets God?

so I've been thinking about this whole incarnation thing.


I've been thinking about what it means for God to enter this world through an unwed mother--and what it means for God to tell the fiance of said unwed mother not to "divorce" her even in secret.


I've been thinking about what it means for God to be born in a barn. Not in the fancy inn--hyatt regency. Not even in the not so fancy inn--motel 6. But in a barn. God was born to an unmarried couple in the middle of animals who were nestled down for the night. Surrounded by the smells of defication and urination, God was born.


I've been thinking about what it means that the first worshippers of this infant were the shepherds that no one trusted or liked. The first worshippers smelled like the sheep they kept watch over and they probably weren't great conversationalists either.


If this is where God broke into our existence--if these are the first moments the God-Child knew--how does the contemporary incarnation of God (the Church) wrap itself in elegance and safe locations? Shouldn't the Body of Christ be in the places that stink? Shouldn't the body of Christ be worshipping with people who smell and aren't all that great at the art conversation?


I'm not going to try giving an answer...you might not agree with it anyway...but if the church exists for the sake of transforming the world we ought to step into the places that need transformation. We ought to step into the places the world doesn't want to deal with--we should be in the places that aren't worth anything to the corporate empires of America. (even though those places are ripe mission fields to be sure!)


The fancy inn didn't have room for God--neither did the not so fancy inn. God was born in a barn. God met the stink of our lives with his--and since I'm speaking of Jesus I can use the word "his"--first breath, but only because we didn't make room for him in the nicer places.


Maybe the church should go to the abandoned places not to be transforming, but so that we might be transformed. Not to tell "those people" to repent, but so that we might see how much we need repentance ourselves.

snow day?

Five or so years ago, I wanted seasons again. Five or so years ago, I missed snow and I wanted to make sure my children would know seasons. Five or so years ago, I remembered snow through the same romantic, soft focus lens that the cameras use on Good Morning America (the one that makes my eyes water when I look at Dianne Sawyer).

I think in my mind every snow fall was going to look like this


or this
:

But the reality of snow looks more like this:


The kids woke up with magic in their eyes because it went from nothing to three inches in one night--which for them is a miracle--and I'm glad that they are excited....

But all I can think of is shoveling the driveway...oh would somebody please get the soft-focus lens?

Thing that make you go...WAUGH!

I forgot my password and I couldn't get it to reset--but today it finally agreed to reset.

So...

I haven't been able to update in ages and ages and ages and ages...

If you want to see everything that's been going on check out the following link: http://www.myspace.com/dansporch and you'll be able to catch up on the nomadic world of the prodigal pilgrim.

We are hopefully moving this week; the house stinks of varnish and fresh paint and is off-gassing like I do after a big bean dinner (if you didn't want to know that, I apologize)...but we should be moving in this weekend. I hope our phone gets hooked up soon, even though no one will be there to answer it.

Okay, I'm back and this is random nonsense so if you want more stuff to read check out the above link.

goodness

I had the pleasure of helping my friends Abbie and Shane get married last night. It was one of the simplest ceremonies I've ever done, and one of the coolest. No long prayers; no schmaltzy readings; just simple promises to take care of each other in love: to share the rest of their lives, to give and receive, to inspire and respond, to speak and to listen...wonderful promises.


I also saw a fantastic movie the other night. The Pursuit of Happyness. If you haven't seen it, you should go rent it, or borrow it from your local library. A fantastic movie.


The leaves have managed to find enough moisture to make for a glorious fall, which we did not expect. I love fall.


I got a one-hour massage on Friday. Everyone should get one-hour massages and thank their massage therapist afterwards. I'm still thankful. Thanks, Dan! I think churches should offer massages as a ministry (Solomon's Porch mentions massage therapy as one of their ministries, which is pretty darn cool.)


So I am swimming in goodness right now. I just wanted to share that.


Pax,

The Pilgrimm


Oh, yeah, I have a few days off, so I get to stay at home on a Sunday morning and hang out in my pajamas and listen to resurrection Sunday on 91X. Still more goodness!

venting in progress: mind yourself

@%&*$@%&!

rass-a-frack-a-rack-a-nackin' stupid people!!

Back in the early 90's, a time rife with good music and really, really sucky music, along came a band that said, "we might suck but we don't care." Okay maybe the didn't really say that, but the music really wasn't that good, and the lyrics weren't even close to being profound--I'm not even sure if they were intended to be taken seriously.

Who is this band?

Infectious Grooves.

The song I'm singing in my head right now?

"Infecto Groovalistic."

Why you ask?

Because there's this part in the song where they sing, "I hate stupid people!" (over and over and over again).

Why you ask?

In August of 2006 three people committed a horrible crime against an autistic foster child. The foster mother reported him abducted from a local park, when, as was later determined, she and her husband and her husband's live in girlfriend had wrapped the boy in a blanket and duct tape and left in a closet for the weekend while they all went to a familiy reunion. When they came back Marcus was dead, so they burned the body and hid the remians in an abandoned house's fireplace. Perhaps you've heard the story.

Leading up to, and all through the first trial (the one for Liz Carroll, the foster mother), the media and communities reached by the media had already convicted and executed the woman. She was found guilty, and sentenced to 54 years to life. After this the husband went to trial and made a plea bargain. By pleading guilty--and he was the one who actually killed Marcus and disposed of the body--he was sentenced to 16 years to life in prison. The girl friend--who was also part of the whole thing--was offered immunity for testifying against David and Liz.

Now Liz Carroll wants a new trial because she says she was not given a fair trial.

None of this is why I'm singing Infecto Groovalistic.

Now that Liz Carroll is pointing out the lack of fairness in her trial. You should hear the howls of disagreement and the cries for blood. "She deserves a special place in Hell for what she did to that child!" "Somebody needs to dig a ditch, shoot her in the head, and let God deal with her!" "She should get done to her what she did to Marcus--that poor baby! Let him look down on her in hell while he's in heaven." (Not real quotes, mind you. These are my synthesized versions of all the hateful, lynch mob, comments that I've read on my local paper's webpage. But they're pretty durn close to real.)

I wonder how many of these heaven and hell sorting lynch mobbing people consider themselves "born again"? Or have heaven and hell merely become mythological places of justice and judgment based upon how we follow the laws of the nation?

Please understand, dear readers, that I am not condoning their actions; I am not saying that Liz doesn't deserve punishment for the crime. But I do not believe she--or anyone who is part of a highly publicized trial like this one was--can get a fair trial in the area where the crime was committed. I'm also curious as to how she got a much harsher sentence than the husband did. Seriously, the live in girlfriend gets immunity, David Carroll gets 16 years to life and Liz gets 54 to life?

And how does howling for blood, or stakes for burning her on (a literal comment by one of the paper's readers) bring back a boy that was put into foster care by a mother who did not want him.

Gandalf the wizard says to Frodo, after the latter speaks of wishing Golum to be dead: "Many that live deserve death. And some die that deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then be not too eager to deal out death in the name of justice, fearing for your own safety. Even the wise cannot see all ends."

I'll say to everyone who reads this what I said last Sunday to my church: If you don't like what's going on, step up and offer an alternative. If you don't like how foster parents act, then become a foster parent yourself. If you aren't willing to make a difference, then please, just be quiet. Because the more you say the more I hear...

Infecto Groovalistic

the luckiest man...

On Jennifer's birthday she asked a friend of ours to do a photo shoot. So on my lunch I popped in at the theater to say hi--and when we looked at the pictures you could tell when I was there because the lovely lady just shined. As I was leaving Jennifer ran over to give me a kiss and Tony caught the moment.

All I can say is: He's the luckiest man alive!

Have You Seen Me?

Jennifer calls me Mr. Fantastic because the strands of silver on my temples get thicker and more noticeable all the time (know of any copper rich foods, anyone?)


But the most frustrating thing about aging is the slipping tendrils of memory that I grasp at. (that sounds horrible!--like something you'd call the people in white coats over...."they're coming to take me away ha, ha, ho, ho, hee, hee, ha, ha! to the funny farm!"...but it's not an early onset of dementia--well maybe, cuz I've always been a bit demented--or anything like that...I know who I am and what day it is and where I live so don't worry about the pilgrimm wandering away never to be found again...but I hope Jennifer picks a decent picture for the milk carton if it does happen...)


Here's what I mean--I had this really wonderful thought last night that I knew you'd want to read--it was positive, too. So I said to myself, "Write about that tomorrow." Well, it's tomorrow now and I have no idea what that wonderful, postive thought was anymore; I don't even remember what room I was in when I had it, so I can't even go chase it down.


So if you happen to find a wonderful, happy thought cross your path today--maybe it's mine? If so, send it my way, but smile at it first because it was supposed to be my gift to you.

just for fun or ticking away the moments that make up my Saturday

Your Brain is Green

Of all the brain types, yours has the most balance. You are able to see all sides to most problems and are a good problem solver. You need time to work out your thoughts, but you don't get stuck in bad thinking patterns. You tend to spend a lot of time thinking about the future, philosophy, and relationships (both personal and intellectual).

What Color Is Your Brain?

Saw this link on another person's blog and was a bit curious as to what color my brain would be--go figure, it's green!

insert smarmy title of your choice here

Reading my local newspaper this morning (on-line, so maybe newspaper isn't exactly accurate) and came across an article about a company that's considering my town for a natural gas pipeline compressor station location.

Wasn't feeling good about the idea and then I came across this comment:

"Allen Fore, a spokesman for Rockies Express Pipeline, said the final site decision for the compressor station will be decided based on what is best for the project and what's best suited for construction of this facility in relation to the pipeline...

Monroe residents are concerned about the project's proximity to residential subdivisions and a nursing home and the potential risks of gas leaks and explosions.

"We appreciate the concerns of citizens and we want to address those, but ultimately where we go will be dependent upon what's best for the project in cooperation with the elected officials and folks that will be working with us on a day-to-day basis throughout this project," he said." ("Middletown Site May be Best of Four for Pipeline Location" by Denise Miller, The Middletown Journal, Wednesday September 19, 2007)

We appreciate the concerns of the citizens but ultimately we'll do what's best for our pocketbooks, you mean? Captialism at it's worst. Forget the needs of the citizens; focus on the needs of the shareholders and the bottom line.

We'll stick the pipeline on the south side of town, where there's already a ton of industrial waste and a bunch of poor folks, so nobody will really care if we do it--and it will probably cost us less than asking for a zoning variation in a different community, so Middletown will probably suit us just fine!

Guess, I'll be letting the council know how I feel about this...

Fast for Peace--October 8

This is from my local conference's website--endorsed by our bishop--it's about time!

Invitation to an Interfaith Fast to End the War in Iraq - from Dawn to Dusk on October 8

From leaders¹ of religious communities across the United States comes a call on all Americans to join in fasting from dawn to dusk on Monday, October 8, to call for an end to the Iraq War. On this day, known as Columbus Day, people of faith in local communities across our nation will act as catalysts to transform the meaning of the day from one of conquest to community and from violence to reverence.

Each one of us and our families are invited to share in the fast during the day in ways appropriate to our own situation. United Methodists are also encouraged to gather with others in their churches, and/or also with members of other religious communities on the evening of October 7 or after dusk on October 8 for common meals.

We must end the shattering of Iraqi and American lives by offering American generosity and support - but not control - for international and non-governmental efforts to assist Iraqis in making peace and rebuilding their country, while swiftly and safely bringing home all American troops. We likewise call on persons of faith in all other nations to do their part in reducing violence and hatred.

Just as Isaiah called the People Israel to hear the Yom Kippur fast as God's call to feed the hungry, just as Jesus fasted in the wilderness, just as Christians through Lenten fasting and Muslims through Ramadan fasting have focused on spiritual transformation, just as Mahatma Gandhi, Cesar Chavez and others drew on fasting to change the course of history, so we call on all our communities of faith to draw now on fasting as a path toward inner spiritual transformation and outward social transformation.

Ending this war can become the first step toward a policy that embodies a deeper, broader sense of generosity and community at home and in the world.

Because he believed fasting was a means of grace, John Wesley fasted at least one day a week and encouraged his followers to fast as well. For Wesley, accountable discipleship is about obedience to the teachings of Jesus summarized in Mark 12:30-31, "... you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength. The second is this, You shall love your neighbor as yourself."

1 Among those signing on to the call: Rev. Jim Winkler, General Secretary, General Board of Church & Society, United Methodist Church; Rev. Robert Edgar, General Secretary, National Council of Churches USA; Rabbi Arthur Waskow, The Shalom Center ; Rabbi Howard A. Cohen, American Hebrew Academy; Dr. Sayyid M. Syeed, National Director, Islamic Society of North America; Nihad Awad, Executive Director, Council on American Islamic Relations; Pax Christi USA: National Catholic Peace Movement, et al.

sharing a beautiful thing

I came across this video on youtube--through AWIP's website (another world is possible).
Enjoy!

loss for words

words cannot express the last few weeks...

but you know I have to try...

much of what I have been dreaming has practically been placed right in front of me...

I've said it myself and I heard something very similar to it said it in a sermon podcast today--being open to the Holy Spirit, asking God to be revealed to you, can be a terrifying thing..."if a part of you isn't about to pee in your pants when you encounter God, something's wrong" (mercy street podcast, 8/4/07)

a building, a big huge building, smack downtown offered up for ministry by someone needing partners in the ministry--not asking for money, not asking for us to pay rent, not asking for anything except people who care about kids and the arts...well that and a little bit of sweat equity...

then we heard about the old library that the city wants to tear down, and we've mobilized to save it so we can put a performing and visual and other creative arts school in it for the kids in the community who can't afford to pay for it...and if I've ever looked a God-sized dream in the face, this is it...lots n lots n lots n lots (ad infinitum, ad nauseum, ad infinitum, etc, etc, etc) of work...

and then, today, I was talking to this young man who hangs out and works in the building, who said to me, "I don't know if you're religious or not, but I'm a God-fearing person, and I trust you and your 'old lady' and I hate to burden you with this but would you offer up some words for my pain?" and then he spoke about the shame he feels for treating his chronic pain with alcohol because "I don't have insurance, and I hate it, but I can't walk around crying all the time, so I drink...but I got Jesus in my heart, so I know I can make it one more day"

and it all feels "home"--know what I mean? It feels more "home" than committee meetings and administrative duties and congregational carry-ins with more food than 100 over-weight people could possibly eat and that the hungry can't get to...

I've heard the desert call my name...and this desert is the city...buildings that look like they belong in a war zone...people living in shell-shock...and yet I see the Reign of God glimmering on the edges...and I feel home...

so here we are...on the cusp of the whirlwind, on the edge of the cliff...and all I said was, "Father, reveal yourself."

dangerous words...and I think I might need to change my shorts...

pacem,
the pilgrimm

...the more things stay the same

a href="http://wanderingpilgrim.mypersonality.info" target="_top">

Another blog I read fairly regularly had a link to this personality type test and I was just curious to see if I still tested at what I did five years ago.


I do.


The Pilgrim is really a routine loving turtle.

macro skies

We had a youth camping event last night at the church. My son was the only youth there--and I thought I was going to be disappointed about that. But something very cool happened. John brought his telescope out to the big field behind the church and as the sun started setting, he said, "See that bright dot right there above the tree?" "yeah," I said. "That's Jupiter. Check it out."


So I peeked in the viewer and there it was. Jupiter. And four of it's moons. As he increased the magnification, the stripe in the northern hemisphere became visible and so did the movement of our planet.


The earth is moving, rotating, at about 1,000 mph (at the equator...probably faster the farther away you get from the equator..but I'm not sure about that). Add to that the fact that we're revolving around the sun (not sure of the speed) and suddenly it seems we're riding one of those tea cup rides from a carnival and somehow, managing not to puke!


So as the magnification increased, the speed of our rotation was more noticeable and the bright dot with the stripe and the four moons zipped across the viewer pretty quickly.


I'd never seen a planet through a telescope like that. It's pretty cool.

August 7

Today is a special election. We're voting on a school tax levy. I'm always uncomfortable voting on these issues because our state's chosen method of funding is through property taxes. I live in a church owned parsonage, thereby not paying property taxes (directly anyway) and so I'm not always comfortable participating in these elections. Jennifer and I usually collaborate and vote in opposite ways so that we cancel each other's votes.


It's difficult because our state supreme court has declared this form of school funding unconstitutional several times and told the state legislature to fix it, but they won't. And so school's are forced to keep doing what they have to do to keep the school's funded and the home owners don't like it too much. I feel for them. But I also have very good friends whose future relies upon the passage of the tax levy.


I have friends who moved to the U.S. from Colombia 5 years ago. Dani is a high school teacher (Advanced Spanish Language) and Henry is my associate pastor (Hispanic Ministry.) They've finally reached the point of being able to apply for permanent residency, but when the last levy wasn't approved, Dani was laid off. If the levy doesn't pass today, Dani's job loss is permanent and her visa will not be renewed and they will likely have to return to Colombia. I'm not so much worried about the ministry--we'll find a way to keep going if we have to--I just don't want my friends to have to leave the country.


I can see all kinds of avenues for how God might be at work, but right now I'm being selfish and I want it the way I want it.


I'm frustrated because the parents and the kids are making this an "extra-curricular" issue, and I could care less about extra-curricular activities right now. Music and the Arts have been pay to play since I was in Jr. High school and no body cared about that. But when sports gets put into the pay to play category, everybody's all freaked out. Deal with it. Pick a sport and excel at that sport. Make a choice instead of deciding that you want it all. Nobody gets it all; so decide what you want to play and live with the choice.


I'm frustrated because nobody is talking about the teachers and the staff people who are losing jobs. Those opposed to the levy are "making a point" or "making a statement" to the board of education that they're fed up with bearing all the burden--if you want to send a message write or call your state senators/representatives and tell them to get off their asses and fix the broken and unconstitutional funding system--but don't cost people their jobs because you want to make a point. Tell your legislators that if it doesn't get fixed you'll grassroots their rear ends right out of the legislature because they aren't doing their jobs.


Today is a special election to decide the future funding of our schools. But today the issue has faces, and those faces aren't cheerleaders, or football players, or basketball players, or baseball players, or softball players, the tennis team or the swim team. The faces today are teachers and their families; staff folks and their families. The faces are those who lost jobs at the end of the school year and care very deeply about the children they teach and serve. Today is about Dani and Henry and Isabella.

making the most of it

So, God is good (all the time)--

In my opinion, my message at our early worship gathering was a train wreck, a great massive train wreck--I wanted to go hide in a dark place and cry and suck my thumb and wonder why it happened that way--and then Bob comes out and says, "I know you think it didn't go very well, but your honesty really touched me. You did well."

After all the glad hands and "nice sermon's" I needed to hear Bob's word.

The 10:45 gathering went much better in my eyes and I think I conveyed what God wanted me to--but it's a bit of a struggle right now. The summer breaks have gotten me out of the rhythm of sermon prep; the repeated funerals are keeping me out of the rhythm of sermon prep; and I'm at this point where I think God wants me to just chuck the manuscript and go with the outline, and that leaves me feeling like George Clooney in O Brother, Where Art Thou? ("Damn, we're in a tight spot!"). And it makes me feel like a beginner all over again.

I don't know. Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe I'm taking the task a little more seriously, a little more humbly. Maybe it's good that I'm nervous again when I step into the pulpit (or away from it, for that matter.) My friend in California told me, "The day you stop being nervous is the day you need to retire." So at least I'm still nervous.

I'm worried about my friends not having their visas renewed because she's lost her job and it hangs on a "yea" vote for a school-tax levy--and the state's view of "what makes a pastor a pastor" versus what the church thinks aren't in agreement when it comes to handing out religious workers visas. (For those of you who think we have separation of church and state, ask yourself why I need the Secretary of State's permission to preside at weddings to visit people in jail, and why the INS wants the state's seal of approval on an appointed pastor to offer a religous worker's visa.)

Tomorrow I'm presiding at my third funeral in four weeks--fourth death, though. And to top it all off, I'm living a little bit of Psalm 42 right now, and that makes caring for others a little hard (being that I'm thristy and hungry myself.)

We went canoing yesterday, which was a nice break. Being on the water--getting into the water's rhythm, studying the flow of the river so as not to get caught on rocks in the shallows. It was a really nice break.

So now I'm back in the fray. Maybe my emptiness is a good thing because it's all God at this point.

Pacem,
The Pilgrimm

thoughts on "becoming"

I've been thinking--I had a little bit of free time today (not really free time but meditating time, praying time, prep time for my sermon prep)--and got to thinking about the difference between making disciples and becoming disciples. It's a subtle difference, mind you, but I feel it's an important one.

This is a topic I'm playing around with for Sunday and if there's any feedback feel free to comment. So read on (be warned, this is llllloooooooonnnnnggg, so if you gotta potty, do it now, maybe get a cuppa coffee or tea or whatever refreshment you need):

Also, it's in the rough; completely unpolished, totally hot off the press and un-proofed...

When I hear the mission statement of the church, "to make disciples for Jesus Christ," I'm left wondering a few things. Are disciples made? Or do they become? It's a complicated thing and I'm not even sure I can get the words out simply. Maybe it's easier if I change to the first person. I don't want to be made into a disciple it makes me think of those playdough machines where the blob goes in at the top and the thing comes out the side; I want to become a disciple. I make coffee mugs on a potter's wheel. Jennifer makes costumes with her sewing machine. The kids at VBS make crafts, lots and lots of crafts. Making disciples sounds a little too mechanical for me. I prefer the idea that we are becoming disciples—it leaves room for growth and learning. There's a place for process. Becoming indicates a gradual shift from this to that.

So now there's another question. How do we enter into this process of becoming disciples? Well, I do have an answer to that, and hopefully it's not as convoluted as the talk about the difference between making and becoming. We become disciples by first admitting that we still have something to learn from our teacher. (That's Jesus, by the way, not me! I am part of becoming a disciple as anyone else! ) We "become" by worshipping with Joy; by learning with Gladness; by Welcoming others as we would welcome Christ; and by serving with love—no strings attached!

I guess I've come to realize that the church can be one of the most assuming institutions out there. We assume that everyone who comes through our doors has it all together. We assume that they know what to do during worship. We assume they know how to become a Christian (and if you use the above, slightly confusing description of becoming, you may realize that you can't really say, "I became a Christian on this date at that time by saying a certain prayer.") The church can be pretty presumptuous—and we all know what happens when we assume (at least, I think you all know that saying!)

Maybe it would be helpful if we laid out steps---kind of like AA or NA or whatever anonymous. After all, the twelve steps are pretty relevant when it comes to the church. And most folks in recovery programs admit that they have to take it one day at a time. They have a Big Book, too; any they read it regularly. You have a sponsor and you go regularly because you're surrounded by a community of others who are in a situation similar to yours.

Maybe the first thing we need to do, much like step one, is say that we are powerless over our brokenness and because of our brokenness our lives are unmanageable. I used to dislike tremendously all those preachers who pointed out from the pulpit and said, "You're nothing but a bunch of sinners!" I guess what I didn't like was the assumption—there's that word again—that the preacher wasn't even though everyone else was. But we're all broken and we all need fixing, healing, restoring, renewal, redemption, salvation, choose your word—it doesn't matter which one they all mean the same thing and we all need it. We're broken (it's just a matter of degrees) and that brokenness makes us powerless and makes our lives unmanageable. Here, I'll start:

Hi, my name is Daniel and I'm living in brokenness, there are days when my life is more manageable than others but everyday my brokenness makes itself known in one way or another.

I can imagine that some might not care for the analogy between becoming disciples and moving toward sobriety. But I think that the church has been expecting people to jump into the deep end of the pool without finding out first whether or not they can swim or even providing basic lessons. I think that Jesus was willing to let us use floaties for a while. I know that Paul was willing to let the early church have theological baby food at first. But I think the church expects people to just be "made" into disciples without providing the steps. We talk about the "core process" of radical hospitality, and passionate worship, faith forming relationships, and risk taking mission as the way to make disciples, but, forgive me for being a little jaded, aren't we assuming (there it is again) that churches are already there when by and large they aren't. And that might seem a little judgmental, but wait, think about it…our denomination is loosing members at a huge rate every year (my annual conference lost almost 16,000 members last year while increasing worship attendance by only 42! If the church were a patient in a hospital, we'd be in ICU and on life support with doctors running all kinds of tests trying to find the hole that all the blood is pouring out from!) So maybe we should shift the focus from "making" to "becoming."

And to become means following a process, immersing yourself in a process, much like the movement from addiction to recovery. The second step is to "come to believe that a power greater than me can restore some sanity."

I'm beginning to think that maybe these sound a bit like this prayer that Jesus taught:

Father, reveal who you are.

Set the world right.

Give us three square meals a day.

Could it be that this prayer we say every week is really a process for becoming disciples?

Father, reveal who you are because all this brokenness is making a mess of my life and I could use a little sanity right now. I've tried to straighten it out by myself, but I can't; in fact, the more I try to go it alone, the more messed up everything gets! (Ever been there before?) So, Abba, Daddy, Father, reveal who you are and restore a bit of sanity; set the world right again; I can't do it.

"Give me three square meals a day." Hmmm…how's that work for becoming? Well, give me what I need for today; let tomorrow be tomorrow, God, and help me out with today. Give the strength, give me the nourishment, for what I'm going to experience today. It's a throw back to the time when Israel was wandering in the wilderness after they were delivered from slavery in Egypt. They needed food, so God provided manna, bread from heaven, for each day. They were told to only take what they needed for the day, and no more—except for Sabbath preparation, and then they could gather two days worth of manna. "Give us this day our daily bread." God, give me what I need to get through this day. Sounds a bit like take it one day at a time.

(to be continued)...

cyber encounters

One of the challenges that I find in life is getting my God-time in a way that's actually meaningful to me. That's not to say that I don't love the tradition in which I'm a prodigal-pilgrimm pastor. That means that so much of my worship time is devoted to leading others into an encounter that sometimes my own encounter with the Divine is sacrificed.

What I call a worship experience is quite outside "the norm." I get to really worship maybe once or twice a year (at least I hope that I get an autumn worship time with my nomadic friends). Let me define what I mean by "really worship."

Richard Foster defines worship as those encounters when God's Spirit touches our spirit, music can lead us there, preaching can lead us there, candles, incense, icons, stained glass windows, and Sacraments can all lead us to the place of worship...but worship happens when our spirit and God's Spirit mingle and become intertwined.

So the last time I really, really worshiped was in a place called Joe's Java in Wilmington, Ohio when we went to see the Psalters. They're nomadic musicians with a sound like no other--mixing American folk music with Slave Spirituals with middle eastern music with Klezmer. It was a hot night, and we were all sweaty and smelly, and their music was loud but God arrived (or we became aware that God was already there waiting for us) and I got to just let go and just be Daniel and just be with God. It was an amazing night.

But there's another component that leads us to the place of worship, and that's hearing the Word of Grace. I get to hear preaching more often than I get to let my spirit soar, but so often the preaching that I hear is leadership oriented and institutional in its focus. As a leader, it's good to hear other leaders say the same things that I do; it's reassuring to know that I'm not off base or alone in my quest for making disciples.

But sometimes I crave more than just discipleship sermons. Sometimes I crave hearing that I am beloved of God even in my brokenness; I need to hear that God's grace is offered even to me. Just like I need to remind the flock entrusted to me that they are loved, just like I need to offer them time at the well, I need to get the living water, too.

So I found this podcast. (Finally he gets to the point!) I found this podcast through a book that I was reading because the community of faith was mentioned in the book. The community is called Mercy Street and they are affiliated with Chapelwood UMC in Houston, Texas. The folks that preach there are stellar and each week I look forward to their podcast because they preach to the places where my soul still aches from time-to-time. They have become my pastors, in a way, because the Words of Grace that they speak, cut right to my heart and I laugh with that community and I cry with that community and I get to worship via my iPod.

How cool is that?

robots in disguise

No not another Transformers post...

We saw The Order of the Phoenix today. By far the best movie out this summer. It was very, very cool. Anyone who says that the H.P. story can't be viewed as allegory is deceiving themselves and can't see the forest for the trees. (The whole idea of finding love and community being what makes Harry better/stronger the he-who-must-not-be-named--the idea of love being stronger than the curse of death--the idea of good and evil residing within us all and us choosing which way to act/live just being a few.)


We still haven't gotten book seven (that would be Deathly Hallows for you under rock dwelling people)--just couldn't do the oh-dark-thirty trip to the local marketplace (we don't have any bookstores in our town)...how sad is that anyway, not a single bookstore, we have evil-mart and other super saver stores; we have super grocery stores/marketplaces; but we don't have any "real" bookstores--sometimes I feel like I live in a black hole.


Anyway, sorry Optimus and crew, but you've been bumped to numero duo. Harry and gang actually had a story to tell beyond the special effects. And plot trumps rockem-sockem any day.

Nothing Too Serious

We saw Transformers earlier this week.

Wait...

That's not quite what I'm looking for. That doesn't exactly do it justice.

WE SAW TRANSFORMERS THIS WEEK!
WHOOOOOOOO!!!!

Okay, that's more like it.

Yeah, you don't see a movie like that and come out with a Steven Wright, deadpan, "we saw Transformers this week" comment. The effects were incredible, hard to tell where the cgi ends and the real stuff begins. It should translate well to DVD, but I wouldn't wait if I didn't have to if I were you.

Now, admittedly, Mirage (blue race car up there) wasn't in the movie which made the little boy in me a kind of sad--after all since it was the Transformer I had as a kid it has to be the coolest one! But all things considered it was perhaps the best movie yet this year/ summer (we've seen Spiderman 3, Pirates 3, and F.F. 2...so I'm fairly caught up on the action-type must see this on the big screen with the eardrum deadening sound system movies...live free or die hard being the exception but I'm not all that interested).

All in all a very noble movie, even though the self sacrificial redemption is by-passed with redemptive retributive violence. (I won't say anymore because I don't wanna ruin it).

Saw a really cool trailer for a movie that comes out on 1.18.08 but doesn't have a title (Bad Robot Productions and J.J. Abrams of "Lost" is responsible for this one, too). So keep your eyes open.

Also started reading the Trade Paperbacks of 52 (Vol 1 anyway) yesterday. Looking forward to Vol 2 coming out in a couple of weeks.

What can I say...the Pilgrimm is a GEEK.

Guess that's it. Other than jammin' to the Doobie Brothers and still needing a haircut and needing a shower after mowing the lawn, not much else to report.

pleasant surprises

We have an over achieving sunflower in our front garden. No one knows where it came from--neither of the kids will admit to planting the seeds, so maybe it was the ubiquitous extra child who lives in every household going by the name "Not me." Either way, I'm not fussed.

It's beautiful. It's an over-achiever, but it's beautiful. At last count there were something like 19 blossoms on this thing. And what's really cute is that right next to this plant is a baby sunflower that's about three inches tall with one blossom on it that's ready to open.

I have no idea where they came from, but I don't care. It's a blessing I'm willing to accept.

Thanks ubiquitous third child, a.k.a "Not Me"!

Thanks God! (Because so many of your blessings are just like the sunflower in my front yard, mysterious yet glorious.)

lazy, hazy days of summer

I've had the bulk of the week off, minus helping represent the church in a local July 4 Parade and practicing with the worship team last night. After walking in the parade yesterday I realized how long it had been since I've walked outside and how much I've missed it.

So we got back from the parade and I headed out again for another walk. And this morning, after a couple of cups of coffee and a bowl of Raisin Bran, I headed out again. I think I turned into an overachiever today--the route I planned seemed simple enough in my mind, but as it turns out it was quite a long trek. S'alright, though; I need it.

When we first moved back to the midwest from Eureka, California (also the name of a really cool show on SciFi that's coming back on July 10) I missed having sidewalks. The township we lived in for four years didn't have any sidewalks and I'd get yelled at (chastised really) by parishioners for walking along the side of the road because it's not safe--and out there it really wasn't).

Now we live in a nice little subdivision with sidewalks galore-- and it's connected to main streets with sidewalks--which connect to other nice little subdivisions with sidewalks--so walking is easy (and safe) and I never really have to walk the same route twice.

So I've been walking again, even though it's hot and humid outside. I've gotten lucky, too, because the rain has hit after I get home.

Sorry not so exciting or deep today...just enjoying the lazy hazy days of summer.

Remembering the Water

The one thing I never counted on when we moved to the Midwest was how much I'd miss the water. Before moving to Ohio (and now, five years later, I understand why everyone said, "Why?"when we told them we moved here from California) I had lived on a coast for 13 years. Pensacola, Florida for about a year; San Diego, California for six years; and Eureka, California for six years.

I miss being near water.

That's what I love about going to Lakeside every year. It's not the ocean, not by a long shot, but I get to imagine...and I get to remember.

We had a good time this year--all four of us got to camp at Lakeside and even though it was a long week of work for me, there were those moments of relaxation and reflection and seeing friends I hadn't seen in quite some time.

The profile picture is from the Pavilion at Lakeside at sunset.
And these are my children:


I love that when we go to Lakeside they can just be kids--I love that they can hop on bikes/scooters and just go and we know that they are okay.

But most of all, I love the water.

Kensington Families & The Simple Way

I'm not usually into blogging for solicitations' sake, but when I heard the news about The Simple Way in Philadelphia, my heart broke and I just had to share the news and their need for assistance.

This is copied from my other blog:

I got this information from my friends the psalters about a serious tragedy in Philadelphia. I don't know Shane or the others from Simple Way personally, but I have felt a great spiritual bond with their work and the way they live out the Gospel.

Official Fire Update

This morning, a 7-alarm fire consumed an abandoned warehouse in our Kensington neighborhood in Philadelphia. The Simple Way Community Center at 3200 Potter Street was destroyed as well as at least eight of our neighbors' homes. Over 100 people were evacuated from their homes, and 400 families are currently without power. Despite this developing tragedy, we are incredibly thankful to share that all of our community members and every one of our neighbors is safely out of harm's way.

This fire will forever change the fabric of our community. Eight families are currently homeless, and in many cases have lost their vehicles as well as their homes. One of our neighbors, the Mahaias Family, lost their three cars as well as the equipment one family member uses for her massage therapy business. Teenager Brian Mahaias is devastated not because he has lost his belongings, but because he fears that this fire will force him to move away from this neighborhood that is his family as well as his home.

The Simple Way has lost a community center that was home to our Yes! And… afterschool program, community arts center, and Cottage Printworks t-shirt micro-business as well as to two of our community members. Community members Shane Claiborne and Jesce Walz have lost all of their belongings, Yes!And…'s after school studio and library were ruined, and community member Justin Donner's Cottage Printworks equipment and t-shirts were destroyed.

We are thankful that we are able to help each other during this time of need, and we will continue to keep your informed about today's events.

We have established funds to support the families who have lost their homes, the Yes! And… afterschool program, and the Simple Way community.

A fund to support the families has been established through a partner organization, EAPE. Tax-deductible donations can be made at https://www.tonycampolo.org/donate.php#ssl. Please make sure to put "Kensington Families Fund" in the memo section.

Donations to the Rebuilding Fund can be made via PayPal to contribute@awip.us.

-The Simple Way Community

Whatever you can do, please do. Even prayers (like that's something small) would go a long, long way.

Go to The Simple Way for updates, images, and video.

Pax.

The Pilgrimm

How YOU doin' ?

I thought I'd go about introducing myself before I get down to business.

I call myself the Pilgrimm because I'm on a journey from life to death and death to new life, from brokenness to sanctification, and I'm itinerant in my ministry.

I'm a prodigal-pilgrim pastor of a mainline church who is more than interested in taking the church to a new place; I'm too Catholic for a lot of Protestants, and yet I know exactly what I protest and why I'm not Catholic. I'm too edgy for traditional folks, and too traditional for contemporary folks.

I believe the church is meant to be organic and flexible--but I'm not sure that such a thing as nimbleness will ever work it's way into the crusty fabric of the institution.

I believe that God is for the oppressed and wants to redeem the oppressor. I believe that God has a preference for the poor but wants to convert the hearts of the rich. I believe that God has a soft spot for Ragamuffins and Goonies, for the broken-hearted and the downtrodden. I believe that nothing is as powerful as God's ability and willingness to love.

And I believe in the Revolution that Jesus kicked off--I just think a lot of church-folk have lost their passion and energy for it. I think we've married the American Dream to the Reign of Christ and the world is worse for it.

I listen to The Psalters, Rage Against the Machine, Dave Matthews Band, and the Grateful Dead. (among others)
I read Brennan Manning, Brain McLaren, Rob Bell, Erwin R. McManus, and Stephen King. (In addition to the Bible and a few select comic books.)

I know that heaven has come to earth and now is the time for heroes.

Pax,
The Pilgrimm