Same as it ever was.

Same as it never was?

Well I think it’s more complicated than anything that can be reduced to a trite and familiar cultural idiom: the more things change the more they stay the same? Hmm…

Heraclitus says, “You can not step twice into the same river. ” King Solomon contends “There is nothing new under the sun.”  Lately I find myself somewhere in the middle, wading out into a dizzying current that feels like change on all sides, yet staring at the sun thinking there is something strangely familiar about all of this.

I have been thinking about scrapping this blog for more than a while now. I have been thinking about a reboot: a new url, a new site name, a new direction. This is all a very surfacey representation of what is going on deep within me.

In the last two years life has consisted of a swift and often bewildering array of changes. I became a father, twice! My daughter Rena turned two years old yesterday. And I can barely believe our son L.J. has been with us nearly half a year already. I rejoice in each new day with them. Part of me can scarcely remember a time before them. Each day brings new joys. But part of me wakes each day with hopes and dreams, patterns and behaviors, insecurities and idiosyncrasies that I have had all of my life.  Some of these things represent the best of me, things I hope to pass on to my children. My passion, my love for God, for words, for poetry, for rock & roll. But some of it consists of ways of thinking, feeling, reacting  that I have spent a lifetime trying to rid myself of. Self absorption, self doubt, childish explosions of temper.  Things a father would never hope to pass on.

In the last 18 months I have also lost over 200 lbs.  After years of trying to no avail to lose weight, of spinning my wheels on a cycle of diet, minimal weight loss, depression, weight regain,  I opted to have bariatric surgery.  The decision came with the discovery that Erin was pregnant with Rena. I wanted to be able to run and play and keep up with my daughter.  I entered a web of self discovery that included meetings with clinical psychologists, nutrition specialists, exercise specialists, as well as medical doctors.  I realized that not only was my relationship to food out of order since childhood, since I used it to cope with depression (actually I think I already knew this) but I also discovered that I actually had quite a severe thyroid problem that exasperated my situation a great deal. Finding proper medication together with my surgery and several lifestyle changes has led to some outstanding results. I think that I naively thought one of these days I would wake up and be a different person than I have ever been before because of this all. Feelings of physical inadequacy – too fat, too ugly, too pale – surely these would just go away. But these were always symptomatic of something deeper, a deeper distrust of self, of others, of God. In many ways I am different. I am healthier physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. And in many ways I am the same insecure person in a smaller shell with less to protect me from the world I fear.

In the last couple of years I have experienced changes in relationships.  Drifting. Growth, time, distance, circumstances see some relationships all but dissolve and others take significantly less priority than they once did. With at least one friendship a wall of irreconcilable differences was crashed into head on as we grew in very different ways. And at the same time new proximity, new interests, new challenges have brought with them new faces, new hearts to discover, new friendships to explore.  And with the new comes familiar anxieties as well as joys. Haven’t I stepped in this river before? Haven’t I waded these waters with another pilgrim on this journey? And the inevitable, will this too come to an end?

In the last year I have finally found a church home, a place of worship and an ecclesial tradition to settle down in. It would probably be more accurate to say that through a long and meandering journey the tradition and the particular church body in many ways found me. Actually, bright and early tomorrow morning I meet with the elders in my congregation in the first step of a two year process to become a minister of word and sacrament in the Reformed Church in America.  The Christian tradition, broadly speaking (all Christians everywhere from the Vatican to the snake handling congregation in the hills of Virginia and every ecclesial body in between) is about – among other things – community, community, community. The church, or to use the New Testament term, the ἐκκλησία. The assembly. Assembled to participate in the good work God is doing in Christ. I have found my community. The community to lead me to guide me. The body for me to wrestle with: to agree with, to disagree with, to find our way together, ever reforming.  And this is good. And this is really what any church I have ever been a part of was doing, succeeding and failing at it as we always do.  Following the Spirit and succumbing to the game of church politics. No group I have been a part of has been exempt for either.  All things are new, and yet much is familiar.

And here I am, 3/4 of the way through my seminary journey. In the last couple of years I have learned a lot. I have been given valuable hermeneutic and exegetical tools to help better understand and explore scripture with the rest of the community. I have learned a lot about our history, the history of Christians at various times and places, spanning the globe and two millennia. A history full of saints and sinners like me, like you, like us. If we are careful students of history, sometimes we can avoid repeating our mistakes and better formulate better solutions, even articulate better questions.  But the task and privilege of the seminarian, of the pastor is the same as it is for those in the pews, the same as it was when I came forward in to the front of a little Baptist church when I was 7 years old. Together we grasp and grope, stumble and sometimes… sometimes soar to new heights. All the while we cry, in the words of an old favorite hymn, draw me nearer, nearer precious Lord!

Maybe sometimes we just need a new way to talk about the things we hold dear. And sometimes we really do need to change what we cling to: those behaviors or attitudes we don’t want to pass to our children, make changes to improve our physical, emotional, mental and spiritual health.  In this time in between times -while God is making all things new in Christ and old ways of living and thinking continue to call for our attention – I am reminded of one of the earliest prayers I learned: God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.

While I have been fumbling to know the difference, I have been often left without the words to express whats been going on inside. I am coming to learn this is not always a bad thing for someone with a tendency to talk too much and listen too little. I have been trying to do a lot of listening lately: to God, to my wife, to my kids, to my professors, my friends old and new. And I think I am ready to talk again.

I have woke up many days to find myself in beautiful (seminary) housing, with a beautiful wife (and children) and found myself asking how did I get here? To continue shamelessly ripping off the talking heads, the answer is in part that life is the same as it ever was. But the river of change is also very real. It must be in a world with a God who says “I make all things new!” This is the sound of one discontent to Let the days go by, one refusing to let the water hold me down, one learning to adapt, to change, to pray, to love, to know when to paddle with all I have against the current and when follow it where the Spirit may be leading.

Shalom,

Wayne

It is the end of day 7 of Lent. The creamer in my coffee and the peanut butter cookie are reminders that I have once again failed to keep even the simplest of Lenten vows.

Tomorrow is another day, another journey with Jesus into the desert, to the top of the mountain where all of the peanut butter cookies in the world pale into insignificance in comparison to all of the kingdoms of the world.

Moreover, it is another chance to journey to the place where any sacrifice that I may make pales into insignificance in comparison to the one who being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God as something to be grasped but rather took on the very nature of a servant on my behalf and on behalf of a world that God is reconciling to God’s self in Christ.

Oh how I need it now, to take the cup, to drink it slow, I can’t let you go. Oh but how I must be an acrobat to talk like this but act like that.

With fragments of scripture and rock songs on my lips as prayers, I ask that tomorrow be a better day.

Today was a good day. I had class all morning. I passed a long dreaded Hebrew quiz. Then I caught up with an old friend in the afternoon and had a couple of drinks at a local pub here in H-Town. This evening Erin and I had dinner with the seminary group that went to India in January I will try to post more about my trip to India sometime soon. In the mean time here is a video that the leader of our trip put together:

Tonight was a chance for the spouses that didn’t get to go with us to hear about the trip through people other than their spouse. I

After that I hung out with some friends playing poker, listening to some tunes and just chilling out. There was a guy doing magic tricks and card tricks like I’ve never seen.

Today was a nice break from stress and worrying about deadlines. I will try to write something more substantial soon. I just thought that I would give an update and try to stick to this daily blogging routine.

Until next time…

Peace,

Wayne

I have just been invited through a facebook group I am a part of at seminary called “Prayer at the speed of life Chapel” to take a ten minute break from the mundane. At one point in time that would have probably meant for me taking a break from writing on my blog or checking my blog. Today it means for me taking a break from the business of home work to just pray aloud on my blog.

I have been serving since September as chaplain intern at a retirement home here in Holland. It has been a terrific and some what restorative experience for me. The last several months as I have grappled with some pretty big spiritual and existential questions, it has been much like a safe haven for me to just be me and do things God has created me to do, namely loving and serving others by listening to their stories and entering into their life experiences with them.

The residents there range from some quite independent folks who still get out a great deal to some who are visited regularly by nurses and are moving toward the nursing home stage. It has been a delight to get to know many of these wonderful people as they share with me stories from their various life journeys.

It has also had me thinking a great deal about entering into a CPE (clinical pastoral education) program next summer so that I can eventually serve as a chaplain. I am not set on a particular setting. But some of the options I am entertaining are residential (like where I am now or perhaps a home for people with special needs or circumstances), hospital, college campus or possibly even prison.

At this point I feel quite certain about this slight change in vocational goal. However, I do not want this to be born out of a reaction to negative experiences that I have had with the church or relationships that were fostered in the church (like the incident I recounted on my previous post). I want want my chief consideration to the experience and affirmation I have received in this area thus far as well as an assessment of my strengths and weaknesses and how these characteristics could  best line up to serve others. It does help to have a few friends who take time to offer a listening and discerning ear.

However it can be really hard to discern motives sometimes. It can be really hard to discern if this all stems from reaction to negative experiences or a posture of leaning into positive and affirming ones. So long story short is that I have been looking for a part time position in church work for this summer to help with that discerning process. But I am also interviewing for a 10 hour a week intern position in assisting the chaplain at Holland hospital. This would help me greatly it would seem when applying for a CPE program next summer since numbers of openings are limited. There are only two health care facilities in West MI that offer CPE programs and I would prefer not to have to go out of state.

Erin and I are quite excited to have our second child, a baby boy on the way. He is due in June. A part time position – or two – adding up to 20-30 hours would be ideal so I can still help at home. It is a really exciting time in life right now. But at times it can feel like a lot. It is a lot to think ponder and pray about in the coming days.

Until next time…

Shalom,

Wayne

Guess whose back? Do you remember when rappers always used to ask that at the beginning of their songs? Anyhoo, it has been a long time. In the past I have compared shorter absences and the expectation of my return to the long expected Chinese Democracy. Perhaps it has just been too long and my return will go as unnoticed as that album was upon finally being released.

Anyway, it has been a while. I have been licking some wounds and trying to recuperate from some horrific experiences. I have been questioning a lot lately. Big picture questions. What does it all mean? What am I doing here? Where am I going? After having a close friend of 15 years question whether or not I am a Christian based on his discovery that I tend to vote democrat and don’t hold to modernists descriptions of scripture (namely inerrancy), I have to admit, I thought for more than a moment that maybe he is right. Maybe I just don’t belong. I’ve always felt too conservative for my self described liberal Christian friends and too liberal for my conservative Christian friends. So, “Maybe…” I thought “maybe he is right. Maybe Jesus don’t want me for a sunbeam after all.” This led to some painful questioning about what the hell I am doing at seminary. Which my friend suggested I do because he was worried I might lead people astray, possibly even to hell because I don’t believe in a flat earth, that the mustard seed is the smallest of all seeds and I voted for a “Marxist baby killer.”

It sounds like I am bitter. I really don’t mean to be. But perhaps I am. But I am on the mend. Perhaps to the consternation of my friend, I am still a Christian and at least in my own estimate a fairly conservative orthodox one at that. The story of the life death and resurrection of Christ is the only thing I have found that provides hope in this crazy world we live in, the hope that the resurrection is the first fruits of all things being restored, recapitulated in Christ. And the church – the bride, the sign and sacrament to the world that God is restoring the world – is sort of a package deal with Jesus. So yes, I am still in seminary trying to learn and discern how I can apply this experience to better serve Christ, the church and the world.
In the coming days I am going to try really hard to write regularly on here. Until then, goodnight and good luck.

Shalom,
Wayne

I have a confession. I have a soft spot for Judd Apatow produced comedies (Talladega Nights, 40 Year Old Virgin, Knocked up etc). It has been a long couple of weeks that have left me tired and completely burned out on political discourse. So tonight Erin and I skipped the debate and rented the Apatow produced Superbad. Superbad is about a couple of disgruntled, unpopular, horny teenage boys who do what American teenage boys often do in an attempt to compensate for their feelings of isolation: they curse, talk a big game about their would be sexual exploits with women they secretly pine for affection from, and spend most of their time verbally assaulting and tearing each other down.

I have another confession. That is exactly how many of my friends and I talked to each other during my high school and early adult years. We foolishly thought that F bombs and and a rugged exterior could conceal the fact that we were just scared, often lonely disaffected boys. I may have been the worst at this, with my bandanna on backwards like Tupac, smoking Newports and cussing up a storm even within earshot of young children.

As is often the case with the thinly veiled social commentary of many teen exploitation films (think Alphadog) the adults come off as some of the most superficial and lost souls in the film. In Superbad SNL’s Bill Hader and film co-writer Seth Rogen play a couple of goof ball police officers who play along with a teenage boy with a fake ID – helping him to get into even more shenanigans – just so he will think they are cool. This is over the top hyperbole that makes for some of the film’s most laugh out loud moments. But it is also pretty honest social commentary: insecure superbad little boys often grow up to be insecure superbad men… er big boys. And its not just a male thing. Its a human being thing. Sometimes what we believe to be our best defenses are some of our worst qualities: our biting sarcasm, our exaggeration, or our tough exterior.

I have been reading Marcus’ Borg’s The Heart of Christianity. And tonight I was reminded of what Borg has this to say about the connection between acts of self preservation and broken human nature:

The birth of self conciseness is the birth of the separated self. When this happens, the natural result is self concern. The two go together: the separated self and the self centered self.

The birth of self-consciousness, of the separated self, is one of the central meanings of the Garden of Eden story. It is our story. Adam and Eve, living in a paradisiacal state, become conscious of opposites, of good and evil. The result is multifold: they cover themselves, no longer naked and unashamed; they experience life as toil and burden; they are expelled from paradise. The Genesis story ends with them (and us) living their lives (and ours) “east of Eden,” estranged and in exile.

Now, Borg and I part company on a lot of issues not the least of which is our divergent views on the importance of the historicity of the literal resurrection of Christ. I am not sure that Borg and I would even agree fully on all of the implications of the fall narrative in Genesis. However, what he provides in this passage can serve as a much needed corrective. Often we do miss the point of the garden story. It is not just a story about a man and a women disobeying by eating a piece of forbidden fruit. Nor is it merely a story about humanity rejecting God by sinning (though that is certainly a part of it). One traditional way of reading this passage is to see the man and woman’s ultimate sin as pride, something we are all guilty of. Pride, if not the tap root of all sin is at least a main root of our failure to love God and neighbor. Orthodox theologian Vladimir Lossky calls the actions of Adam and Eve in the fall narrative an attempt at “self divinization.”  And if experience teaches us anything, it surely teaches us the such hubris is often masking radical insecurity and often times even self loathing.

Super bad boys or men trying to mask their own feelings of isolation and angst with speech that is sexually degrading toward women and verbally abusive toward each other is quite sad. But even worse are men or women who use the language of religion to cloak what is more or less hate speech toward “non believers,” people of other religions, or sometimes even people of their own religion with diverging views.  All in the name of God. That is truly superbad. And such behavior must grieve the heart of God.

I have experienced my share of “superbad” Christians in my day. I have been guilty of being one myself at times. But I have never experienced this as much in the past as I have this political season. I have witnessed people using “God-talk” in an attempt to dismiss and destroy other Christians who might not share the same political convictions. Shame on us. Shame on us for confusing the kingdom of God with that of Caesar. But more than that, shame on us for ever verbally tearing down other human beings created in the image of God in a veiled attempt to mask our own nakedness.

Shalom,
Wayne

The more familiar I become with the Old Testament, the clearer New Testament references to Jesus as Hashem (Y—-h) become. In 1 Thessalonians 3 Paul quite clearly identifies the risen Jesus with Hashem by borrowing from the language of the prophet Zechariah. In verse 11 Paul clearly makes a distinction between the Father and the Lord Jesus. And then speaking of Jesus, Paul continues, “May he strengthen your hearts so that you will be blameless and holy in the presence of our God and Father when our Lord Jesus comes with all his holy ones.” Paul is invoking the same language that the prophet Zechariah used to speak of Hashem: “Then the Lord my God will come, and all the holy ones with him” (Zech 14:5). This idea continues to develop in subsequent Pauline epistles as Jesus continues to be identified as the God of Hebrew scriptures and with the coming day of the Lord that the prophets anticipated.

In the gospels, the historical Jesus is also identified as Hashem. The gospel of Mark, the earliest of the synoptic gospels, is no exception. My favorite example of this is in the fourth chapter when Jesus calms the storm. I have written here before about Jesus’ followers worshiping him after the account of Jesus walking on the water in Matthew’s gospel. Likewise in Mark, Jesus exhibits power over the elements of the earth. This passage not only depicts Jesus as doing that which only God can do in a Hebraic understanding but also reminds the reader of Old Testament examples of sailors turning to Hashem when in danger because of a storm. The Psalmist depicts merchants on the mighty waters that “cried out to the Lord in their trouble, and he brought them out of their distress” (Psalm 107:23-28). One is also reminded of the narrative in the first chapter of Jonah. Jonah is running from God and God sends a mighty storm. When the sailors cry out to the Lord and relieve themselves of Jonah, the Lord calms the storm and “the men greatly feared the Lord” (Jonah 1:16). Likewise, when Jesus calms the storm in Mark the disciples “were terrified and asked each other, “Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!”” (Mark 4:41).

Indeed that is the question.
Shalom,
Wayne

I am sorry I have not updated much lately. When I do get a chance to write lately, I have been putting more of that time an effort into my poetry blog.

Erin and I celebrated our five year anniversary a week or so ago. It was a fabulous day. We didn’t have a ton of money. So we spent the day in Grand Rapids. We went to good will and other consignment shops. At good will we purchased a maxell 90 min blank tape with Michael Jackson’s Thriller dubbed onto one side (from vinyl). We road around and listened to Beat It and Billie Jean and then to some kids who recorded over part of it with their band instruments probably about 20 years ago. It was great fun. While we were consignment shopping though, I couldn’t help but think a bit about how much we consume and quickly cast aside in this country. I perused through the fashions of yesteryear that someone just had to have at one time. Now Tommy, Calvin Klein and Wrangler jeans sit side by side in the bargain bin. 27 inch t.v.s the size of the one I spent $300 on a few years ago (and still use) sat on the floor with price tags reading $20 because everyone is converting to digital receivers and hi-def screens.

But what really got under my skin was a mix cd with a homemade cover that read “Matthew and Coleen July 12, 2003.” By the playlist and the picture of a floral bouquet featuring sunflowers on the front it was in all likelihood a wedding mix for Matthew and Coleen. It has bothered me ever since. What has happened to Matthew and Coleen? Did they throw their love aside like a pair of Tommy jeans. How did their wedding mix cd end up on the shelf with a homemade copy of Michael Jackson’s Thriller. I asked Erin to tell me a story – a happy story – about how the cd found its way to good will. The story was Matthew and Coleen made extra copies as their gift to their wedding guest and it was one of them who donated the cd. Matthew and Coleen are still happily married and just celebrated their 5 year anniversary a few weeks before we did. That was the story. And it helped.

But I still have that sick feeling in the pit of my gut just thinking about it and tonight I am praying for Matthew and Coleen whoever they are, wherever they are.

Shalom,
Wayne

Good Questions Lynette. I just finished reading The Doors of the Sea: Where Was God in the Tsunami? by David Bentley Hart. I highly, highly recommend this book. Short but quite dense, this little book is a breath of fresh air. Don’t let the length fool you (about 100 pages) it is a difficult but very rewarding read. It is hands down the best thing I’ve ever read about the problem of evil and suffering. Calvinist will have a hard time with his critique of the the Reformed tradition and the traditional Calvinistic understanding of God’s Sovereignty. Open theists will have a difficult time with Hart defending the classic divine attributes and the way he relies heavily on the important distinction between what God wills and what God permits. Conservative and liberal modernists alike will most likely have a hard time with how serious Hart is about the cosmological view of the New Testament and and the reality of evil principalities. This should be required seminary reading. I wont tell you too much more than that because I my hope is you will check it out for yourself.

Shalom,
Wayne

So lately I have been listening to copious amounts of Type O Negative. I mentioned them not to long ago in another post. If you are unfamiliar with Type O, they are a Brooklyn based goth rock four piece that continue to blow my mind every time that I listen to them. It seems on almost each album they churn out at least a couple of nearly ten minute epics. These tunes typically tend to defy neat genre specifications, but are often ballads that include elements of everything from thrash metal to melodic pop melodies. The four and a half minute video clip above is a shortened version of their nearly eight minute song “Everything Dies.” Death has been a theme that has found much prominence in the lyrics of Type O front man Peter Steele. This was especially the case on the band’s 1999 album World Coming Down.

Anther theme that has also found expressions on some of the band’s past efforts is Steele’s professed atheism. So I was pleasantly surprised when I read recently that sometime in the four year break between the band’s last record and their most recent that Peter Steele has returned to the Catholic Church of his upbringing.

But it was this article that really blew me away. Peter comments:

…over the past couple of years I have learned from jail and rehab and being in a psychiatric institution, I’m still learning. But I think that I after my mothers death, I was born a roman catholic and I think that I have gone back to my faith. You know people ask me are you a born again Christian and I said no I am a dead again Christian I have always been dead.

This got me thinking about the controlling metaphors we often use to talk about the faith (especially in evangelical circles). Of course in the third chapter of John’s gospel we find our Lord instructing Nicodemus that no one can see the kingdom of God unless we be born again. This is a beautiful image our Lord gives us and an indispensable reality of life in Christ. However, no matter how many times these words of our Lord get reduced to a catch phrase and offered as the summation of Christian teaching, this is but a partial picture of the Christian life.

Steele’s words also got me thinking about a conversation a few years ago between two friends of mine. One was Baptist and one was Catholic. Each side of the conversation remained nearly unintelligible to the other. One was talking almost exclusively about being “born again” and about “a personal relationship with Jesus” while the other was talking about the sacramental and communal life of the church. A lot of the communication barrier lies in the the different language and metaphors each used to talk about the Christian faith, shaped by a particular faith perspective. I say this not to reduce biblical language to mere metaphor or to argue for the simplicity or complexity of a gospel that is both-and. I simply mean to say that we often do a great deal of talking past each other because our God talk is simply not big enough.

This presents a problem especially for ecumenical relations between Protestants of various stripes and Catholic and Orthodox Christians. I don’t think I am at all interested in mere Christianity (I don’t mean the book but maybe?). I am not interested in a Christianity that is reducible to five points and a prayer. I need a robust Christianity in a wide and deep conversation with scripture as well as the church at all times an all places.

I think I like Pete’s explanation of being a “dead again Christian.” Perhaps because it sounds more liturgical to me. After all Paul reminds us that in baptism we die with Christ. As we cross over those waters we are in a sense buried alive (now that sounds like the stuff of a ten minute goth rock epic). Of course we die with Christ to walk in newness of life. But while we wait to be joined with him in a resurrection like his, the same Lord that instructs us to be born again also reminds us to daily pick up our cross and follow him. In describing himself as a “dead again Christian” Peter Steele says that he has always been dead. Similarly, Paul reminds us that we are either slaves to sin or slaves to Christ. In reality we die a thousand deaths as Jesus continues to resurrect us from the ashes of the messes we make of our lives, as we await the day we are united with him in a resurrection like his.

Until next time

Shalom,
Wayne