Honoring our Obi Wan Kenobis

I return from ACU's Lectureship with a full spirit, fed by the words of He who is the Bread of Life. This was my first Lectureship as a non-student and I found it to be incredible. The speakers were amazing, the classes were life-changing, but I found my greatest refreshment in the renewing of treasured relationships.

On Sunday night, I was very pleased to see an older couple who were friends of my grandparents years ago, Earl and Sylvia. As I stood speaking with Sylvia, her grandson, Brock, a youth minister and fellow ACU alum walked up and we immediately embraced each other in a hug. As we broke the hug Sylvia said, "It is so special to see my grandchild and Elaine's grandchild hugging on each other." I don't think she could have know how emotional it was for me to hear her say that. In that moment it hit me that I miss my grandmother terribly. Yet, it was so great to feel connected with her for just the briefest moment by speaking to someone else who knew and loved her.

As the week drew on I continued to reflect on all those people like my grandmother whose love and support have been so formative for me in my life. I have been blessed with so many wonderful mentoring relationships, relationships that have called me to be a better person. I have two incredible parents who have taught me so much. I have friends that I would have never dared to ask for for fear that I was asking too much. I have an unbelievably patient and supportive wife. I thank God for each of them. I also thank God for my time in Abilene where I had a chance to see many of my mentors again.

I was amazed at the number of people in Abliene that I saw who I still adore for their influence in my life. Saturday, we spent a lot of time with the Wallaces so that we could see Matt and Nikki. However, while I was there I couldn't help but thinking of all the things that that wonderful family has done for meand Jacquie It was so great to reconnect with all of them.

Sunday we spent time with our old small group, a multi-generational group that was nothing short of miraculous in our lives. It was so good to see Floyd and Kay and Terry and Brenda and Scott and Joy and Dan and Laura and Sara. These people changed our lives. Through the rest of the week I saw so many people who served me as mentors, whether they knew it or not. David Wallace, Mark Hamilton, David Wray, Jordan Hubbard, Floyd, Terry, Matt W., Chris Blair, Derran and so many others are just a few of the men who taught me what it is to be a better man, husband, father, teacher, minister, and especially a better follower of Christ. Thank you all for who you are and what you have done.

I return thinking about all the men and women who make us who we are. So, today on this blog you can have your chance to honor your mentors. List them, Tell about them, Thank God for them, whatever. It is your choice.

Oh, and keep those word verification definitions coming. I promise to put an entry on here compiling the best so far. I have been amazed at how creative they have been.

Listen Up, Dumb Bunny Blog Readers

Today has been eventful. I took a half day off of work and accompanied my wife's second grade class to a local Houston theater production of Junie B. Jones and a Little Monkey Business. That's right, my wife somehow suckered me into being a chaperone for a bunch of second graders. Translated, this means that I get to be the guy who carries the cooler, collects all of the trash after lunch, and makes sure the boys don't destroy either the facilities or each other's clothes as they use the restroom.

I realize that that last phrase seems a little bit foul, but it's the truth. Also, that description isn't near as foul as the smell of the school bus we rode in (how you like that for a segue). I'm not kidding, I had forgotten how bad those things stink. We had to keep the windows up due to the frigid 75 degree temperatures in Houston, so various smells had time to ferment. At one point, I was using my mastery of zen to transport my mind to another place that would smell better. I chose the apartment gym on the day it smelled like puke paint. It was a vast improvement. Actually, it has been several hours and my clothes still smell like I swam through a pool of milk.

The play itself was quite an adventure. For you unlucky souls who are not hip to all the new children's literature, Junie B. Jones is the reigning queen of elementary angst (think, Beezus and Ramona Quimby for a new generation). Junie is a kindergartner who dresses like her mother went on a shopping spree in a Units store back in the late eighties and saved the clothes till now. She is an only child who receives the frightening news that her Mom is going to have a B-A-B-Y, a word that she cannot bring herself to say but only spell. Oh, and this kid also has a real attitude problem. She calls her friends dumbbunnies, she always has a sarcastic comeback for any remark, and she has no qualms about saying anything to anybody. In other words, she is everything I wish I can be. (Actually, she is everything that I imagine Jenn G. was when she was a kid)

Despite all of her questionable qualities she really is a lovable character, especially as played by the thirty-five year old actress who donned the costume for an attempt at reliving her childhood. I'm not kidding, the girl had to be well into her thirties. But, she was great. I laughed out loud at a lot of her hijinks. The rest of the cast was pretty good too for being a bunch of cast-offs from the other more serious theaters in Houston. One guy in particular did a great job. He ad-libbed quite a bit and he was truly funny as Junie's arch nemesis at school as well as her loving grandfather. In fact, it got kind of weird when several of the mothers who were also chaperones started to develop a discernible crush on the guy and ran down to take his picture after the show.

The funniest part of the whole thing was at the end when the cast decided it would be a good idea to let the second graders ask questions about acting. I'm not kidding. We've got kids who have been sitting relatively still for an hour and a half trying to bust out of their seats, and these actors want to stage an episode of Inside the Actor's Studio right there in the theater. It actually was kind of funny to watch these people who obviously had no history with children try to explain what a set designer was or how one of the actors gave the appearance of being bald (by far the worst bald cap I have ever seen in my life). My favorite question came from one of Jacquie's students, "Is she the real Junie B. Jones?" By the look in the eye of the girl fielding the questions you would have thought he had asked her to explain sex. She froze and then, in the time-honored tradition of question dodging, she said, "What do you think?" Everybody yelled, "No!!!" She countered with, "Why do you think she is not the real Junie B.?" At that point I stood up from the back and yelled, "because she's 35, you dumbbunny!!!" Okay, no I didn't do that but I should have.

Over all it was a great experience. I'm not sure that I learned any real moral from the play or anything but I had a good time with the kids (later they dared me to race them up a giant hill at a park we stopped at). Trust me, you have not lived until you have chaperoned a school event.
Now, I have to go home and wash my clothes.

Quick Hits

I do not have much time so here are some quick items.

Hit #1: If you would like to read one of the nastiest stories I have heard in a long time, click on Jenn G in my links and read her most recent blog entry.

Hit #2: When Jacquie and I worked out on Monday we once again ran into Business Woman (from previous exercise post). This time she was dressed more appropriately for the gym, sweat pants and a t-shirt. However, she was wearing hair curlers on only one half of her head. She just gets weirder and weirder. She tried to talk to us again and I couldn't understand her. I think she might speak some kind of business woman language that dumb old ministers like me can't understand. I just nodded... and left the room as quickly as possible.

Hit #3: David, my boss, sent me a newspaper notice from his hometown in Duncan, OK. Apparently, a man in the town reported a burglary in his home raight after Christmas. When asked to fill out a list of the items that were stolen, the list consisted of these three items:

A bottle of laundry detergent
A garden rake
FIVE POTATOS!!!

This is a true story.

Hit #4: I would like to ask a favor from you. When you comment on my blog I would love to know what verification word you are given to type. Also, if you are brave enough, try to assign some definition to the word. If you don't want to define it just post it. The rest of us will come up with something. I think this will help us all expand our fictional vocabulary together.

Darn You, Vanilla Ice

Hang on tight this is going to be random.

In recent posts on several blogs I have seen some really interesting conversations about our lack of compassion and understanding when it comes to those who's sexuality is different from us. Frankly, I am glad that this discussion has started. If Brokeback Mountain does nothing else, it at least caused us to think and for that I am thankful. In the very near future, we as Christians are going to have to make some hard decisions about how we handle issues like homosexuality. I pray that we can make these choices with the love and compassion of Jesus Christ as our guiding principle. But, I really didn't want to blog about all that today.

Actually, what this whole conversation has gotten me to think about is the ways in which we choose to ignore certain voices in our culture simply because we do not relate to them or are not interested in what they have to say. Take a look around at how many groups and organizations there are out there in which people are trying to find a place where they can be accepted, voice their thoughts and concerns, or defend a cause that is important to them. We have Victim's rights groups, animal rights groups, grief support groups, consumer rights groups, the society for the preservation of the California avocado, and that organization so near and dear to anyone who has spent time in Abilene, Texas - The Texas Boll Weevil Eradication Association. And these are just a few. I have a friend that recently had dealings with the African-American Breast Feeding Coalition, a cause that I scoffed at until I heard the very real concerns that they have about the health and well-being of African American mothers and children. These are all voices that are making themselves known in our culture.

However, these voices don't just represent particular causes or concerns. They represent the hearts and minds of the people we live around, the people that we are called to love with the love of Christ. But, if we are ever going to love them in a real way, we have to be able to stop and listen to the things that their hearts have to say. We can never love them if we never take the time to get to know them. And we can never get to know them if we continue to ignore or demonize them. This kind of love also calls us to be willing to share our lives with other people. We have to be vulnerable in our love. That is what I adore about Matt and Nikki Wallace (Insert your own shameless plug for Dry Bones here) and their work in Denver. They are willing to live life side-by-side with people whose voices we didn't even know existed until Matt and Nikki were brave enough to sound them in our ears. Now, none of us can stop thinking about or loving those kids.

But, let me be confessional here. I think what I really liked about Matt and Nikki's ministry was that it was Matt and Nikki that were doing it and that they were far away in Denver. I could live vicariously through them and not get my hands dirty. I could listen to the voices through Matt and Nikki but I didn't have to do much about it. Now, please don't get me wrong. I am not saying everybody should pack up and move to Denver. I am not even saying that you should go find homeless teens in your city. All I am saying is that there are plenty of voices that you are going to ignore today as you go about your life. They are all around you. They are all around me. I'll give you an example. As a ministry student I found it very easy to deride all those members of the Church of Christ who held more conservative beliefs than I did. In some ways we almost seemed to be practicing two different religions. I was astounded at their judgmentalism, their aloofness, their inability to change. I began to ignore their voices because it depressed me to hear them. I disagreed with them so heavily and I could not get over that.

In my job now I am realizing that I hated their voices because I thought they represented a type of Christianity that I could not endorse. However, as I work in a church where I am by far the most "liberal" component I understand that I was wrong. Their voices represent the hearts and minds of people who are trying desperatley to follow God and Christ in the best way they know how. And slowly but surely, the Gulf Coast community that once gave ear to their voices is beginning to turn on them. At one time their voices meant something because the rest of the area was predominantly Christian. But, as our culture changes their voices are getting lost in the fray. The fear, confusion, and disappointment that I see in the lives of these faithful Christians as this shift occurs has humbled me in a serious way. I, as a Christian minister, am called to live along side them and be a person who is willing to hear their voices and get to know their hearts.

Do I agree with all of their religious "doctrines"? No. Will I ever? No. But, can I continue to demonize them or make them out to be ignorant solely because we read the Bible in a different way? No way. I have to be willing to practice what I preach. I have to be willing to listen to them as they open up their lives to me and I have to be vulnerable enough to open up my life to them. I have to be willing to love them as Christ loves them. Yes, that all takes wisdom and patience that only comes from God, but it is well worth the effort if it means that I am getting to live out the crucified life of Christ.

That is the real gift of the gospel. It's not just that we are forgiven or that we get to go to heaven. It's that we get to live like Christ lived. Right here. Right now. We get to love those around us with a love that is incomprehensible. We get to listen to the voices of this world with compassion and mercy. I pray that you hear a voice today that you have neglected in the past.

P.S. You want to know what really got me thinking about all of this? This weekend I listened to one of my favorite rock songs of all time, "Under Pressure". If you don't know the song you at least know the bass line because years after it was released Vanilla Ice stole that bass line and used it as the intro for "Ice, Ice, Baby". I have not forgiven him.
The original was done by David Bowie and Queen. As I listened this time I made a point to hear the lyrics. As I did I realized that this song contains one of the best definitions of love that I have heard in any song before. Here is a sample:

Why can't we give love that one more chance?
Why can't we give love give love give love?
Give love give love give love give love give love give love?
Cause love's such an old fashioned word
And love dares you to care
For the people on the edge of the night
And love dares you to change our way
Of caring about ourselves
This is our last dance
This is our last dance
This is ourselves under pressure

Strange, isn't it that I would learn something about love from David Bowie, an androgynous glam rocker, and Freddie Mercury, a flamboyant rock star and drug addict that later died of AIDS. With everything I would probably disagree with them about, they at least had a pretty good idea of what real love could potentially be.