We went to a "boot camp" last May to learn about all things related to church planting and part of that education was, not surprisingly, about money. That's usually one of the first questions people ask if they're curious about what we're doing. Sometimes they're a little hesitant about asking because they don't want to offend, but it's a good question. How exactly is this whole thing funded?
About half of it over the next three years is being funded from our denomination (or, for you United Methodists out there, our annual conference), but the other half is coming from donations from friends, family, and acquaintances and (we hope) people who commit to being a part of this new church. We sent out a letter to our family and friends a few weeks ago asking not so subtly for them to support us financially. And this was a learning for me: The person leading the boot camp said, essentially, that those family and friends won't necessarily be giving out of altruistic purposes or they feel led by God to give. All that may be true, but the main reason they're giving is because they trust and believe in me.
It's easy to feel a little awkward about that, but when I think about my own giving, it's true. I wouldn't give to the Washington County Hospice if it sent me a letter, but I supported it because my Aunt Cathy was doing a walk to support it. Same with numerous other charities that we support. We give because of the relationships.
Our intern at Urban Village Church, Anne Williamson, preached at another church last Sunday night and she said a really helpful thing. She was using Luke 1:26-38 and noted that Mary said yes to the angel not because she knew what exactly would happen in her future or because all of her questions would be answered. Mary said yes because she knew who was making the request. It was God. Mary trusted God, loved God, and may have thought that this request was absurd, but she said yes because of trust and love.
I have prayed this week that my trust and faith God can continue to deepen so that I can continue to say yes to whatever it is that God is asking.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Grabbing the baby Jesus
I went to my son's preschool Christmas program this morning at Old St. Mary Church on south Michigan avenue. He was very excited to have us see him in his elf costume, but the real excitement came from a little boy who was probably about 3 years old. My wife and I were chatting with another parent waiting for the program to start when this boy came sprinting down the aisle of the sanctuary. He had his eyes and feet focused on the little barn that was constructed in the front of the church. More specifically, he was dying to get to the baby Jesus. He grabbed the doll and started looking at him and about ten seconds later the boy's mom grabbed him and whisked him away.
We're told to wait during the Advent season. Children are told to wait as they count down the days until Christmas. Adults are told to wait and use this period of waiting as a time for spiritual growth and reflection. But we don't often hear how we are supposed to wait. I don't think it's a passive waiting, but an eager one, like a boy who simply cannot control himself because of his desire to see the baby Jesus.
Faith in God through the living Christ enables us to engage in active waiting and anticipation. Something sacred and abundant is always in our midst because God is faithful and has surprises and adventures in store for us every day. Let us then throw off the covers in the morning and, like this little boy, run into the day actively waiting and watching to see where Jesus might be.
We're told to wait during the Advent season. Children are told to wait as they count down the days until Christmas. Adults are told to wait and use this period of waiting as a time for spiritual growth and reflection. But we don't often hear how we are supposed to wait. I don't think it's a passive waiting, but an eager one, like a boy who simply cannot control himself because of his desire to see the baby Jesus.
Faith in God through the living Christ enables us to engage in active waiting and anticipation. Something sacred and abundant is always in our midst because God is faithful and has surprises and adventures in store for us every day. Let us then throw off the covers in the morning and, like this little boy, run into the day actively waiting and watching to see where Jesus might be.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Second Urban Village worship
We had our second worship as Urban Village Church last night and it was another great experience. We had about 110 people attend and in the midst of singing the songs and listening to Trey preach and investigating strange noises, I also took time to look around and just marvel at everything.
I thought back to the day in June 2007 when I first read the article in Chicago Magazine about the South Loop neighborhood, when the idea was first planted. I thought about the time that Trey and I went to our district superintendent a few months later with this idea of doing something together. Neither of us really could be sure whether we'd get the green light. I thought back to this summer when we'd be thrilled if one or two people expressed even a scintilla of interest in this new church. And then last night. Dozens of people had come together. It really is remarkable and speaks to taking that next step whenever God plants an idea in your head. I believe God does that all the time (planting the ideas), but too often we don't do anything with it. I've been guilty of this many times. Life happens, after all. We have the day-to-day stuff that we must attend to and we don't really have time to take action on God Ideas. But, truly, amazing things can happen if we even give these ideas the tiniest bit of attention and take the smallest steps. Things may not always take off quickly and may not flourish like you initially envisioned, but still. It's a pretty awesome thing to see something come out of nothing. I think there's a story in Genesis about that.
I thought back to the day in June 2007 when I first read the article in Chicago Magazine about the South Loop neighborhood, when the idea was first planted. I thought about the time that Trey and I went to our district superintendent a few months later with this idea of doing something together. Neither of us really could be sure whether we'd get the green light. I thought back to this summer when we'd be thrilled if one or two people expressed even a scintilla of interest in this new church. And then last night. Dozens of people had come together. It really is remarkable and speaks to taking that next step whenever God plants an idea in your head. I believe God does that all the time (planting the ideas), but too often we don't do anything with it. I've been guilty of this many times. Life happens, after all. We have the day-to-day stuff that we must attend to and we don't really have time to take action on God Ideas. But, truly, amazing things can happen if we even give these ideas the tiniest bit of attention and take the smallest steps. Things may not always take off quickly and may not flourish like you initially envisioned, but still. It's a pretty awesome thing to see something come out of nothing. I think there's a story in Genesis about that.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Candy cane give-away
We're all out.
Eight of us teamed up over the last few days to hand out candy canes tied to cards that publicize our next worship service (this Sunday night at 7 p.m. at 637 S. Dearborn). We probably handed out 1,500 of them all over the city on street corners and near L stops. Some observations:
**I was surprised that more people didn't take them. Maybe it was because I got better at it, but on Sunday when I went out only about a third of the people took them. On Tuesday, that went up a bit and then yesterday, it went to about half.
**There were very generally four types of people. First were the people who had their heads down and weren't going to look at me even if I was giving away $100 bills. Second were the people who were polite enough, made eye contact, but said no thank you. Third were the people who took the candy canes without breaking stride, like I was handing out water and they were running a marathon. Fourth were the people who were vocally appreciative, took the candy, and gave me a smile. Those folks were in the minority, but it still made me feel good.
**A few interesting stories, too. One woman asked me if this church was that "expatriate Methodist church." One man took a look at the card, read the phrase that said, "Love all," and said, "A church that loves all? I'll believe it when I see it." One other man looked at me and grudgingly took the candy cane as if to say, "Oh, alright, if it will make you feel better." A few folks were shocked that they were free.
**I have no idea how effective this will be--I guess we'll find out (hopefully) on Sunday, but the more I did it, the more I kind of enjoyed it. Even in the frigid weather we had yesterday.
Eight of us teamed up over the last few days to hand out candy canes tied to cards that publicize our next worship service (this Sunday night at 7 p.m. at 637 S. Dearborn). We probably handed out 1,500 of them all over the city on street corners and near L stops. Some observations:
**I was surprised that more people didn't take them. Maybe it was because I got better at it, but on Sunday when I went out only about a third of the people took them. On Tuesday, that went up a bit and then yesterday, it went to about half.
**There were very generally four types of people. First were the people who had their heads down and weren't going to look at me even if I was giving away $100 bills. Second were the people who were polite enough, made eye contact, but said no thank you. Third were the people who took the candy canes without breaking stride, like I was handing out water and they were running a marathon. Fourth were the people who were vocally appreciative, took the candy, and gave me a smile. Those folks were in the minority, but it still made me feel good.
**A few interesting stories, too. One woman asked me if this church was that "expatriate Methodist church." One man took a look at the card, read the phrase that said, "Love all," and said, "A church that loves all? I'll believe it when I see it." One other man looked at me and grudgingly took the candy cane as if to say, "Oh, alright, if it will make you feel better." A few folks were shocked that they were free.
**I have no idea how effective this will be--I guess we'll find out (hopefully) on Sunday, but the more I did it, the more I kind of enjoyed it. Even in the frigid weather we had yesterday.
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
Christmas connections
I seem to be in a bit of a networking slump. I've mentioned in previous posts that networking and making contacts is the lifeblood of starting a new church. I had great success in October. November was also pretty good until about the middle of the month and then things started to slow down, meaning not as many people were returning phone calls or e-mails. I've learned pretty quickly that there are times of bounty and times of scarcity when it comes to this kind of thing, but obviously times of scarcity are harder to deal with.
I've been more intentional, then, about going to events that community organizations put together. Last night, for example, the Greater South Loop Association had its holiday party and tomorrow night, the South Loop Neighbors organization will have its holiday and I went to and will go to both of these. I think the thing that makes this a bit more challenging is that Christmas is often a time to reconnect with those closest to you. It's the time we send out the letters and go to parties with friends, but here I am still trying to build relationships, meet new people. That's an ongoing process that, for the most part, I really enjoy, but it can get discouraging.
I participated in a hard-core networking task last Sunday as I stood outside the Target on Roosevelt Road handing out candy canes tied to cards that publicize our next worship service (this Sunday night, 7 p.m., 637 S. Dearborn). That was a pretty cold experience, in more ways than one. First, it was literally pretty chilly and, second, I was a bit surprised that only about a third of the people actually accepted these candy canes. Many were very polite about it ("No, thank you"), but, still, I left with quite a few candy canes in my bag. I'll be going out to L stops today, tomorrow, and Thursday to do the same thing. Sometimes I wonder whether I'm doing any good by doing this. I think I am (I should say we are because others from our church are doing this, too). I sometimes run my mouth off about leaving the church building and hitting the streets but I need to recognize that it's not always easy. In the midst of all of this, though, God is with me and us. The birth of Jesus tells me so.
I've been more intentional, then, about going to events that community organizations put together. Last night, for example, the Greater South Loop Association had its holiday party and tomorrow night, the South Loop Neighbors organization will have its holiday and I went to and will go to both of these. I think the thing that makes this a bit more challenging is that Christmas is often a time to reconnect with those closest to you. It's the time we send out the letters and go to parties with friends, but here I am still trying to build relationships, meet new people. That's an ongoing process that, for the most part, I really enjoy, but it can get discouraging.
I participated in a hard-core networking task last Sunday as I stood outside the Target on Roosevelt Road handing out candy canes tied to cards that publicize our next worship service (this Sunday night, 7 p.m., 637 S. Dearborn). That was a pretty cold experience, in more ways than one. First, it was literally pretty chilly and, second, I was a bit surprised that only about a third of the people actually accepted these candy canes. Many were very polite about it ("No, thank you"), but, still, I left with quite a few candy canes in my bag. I'll be going out to L stops today, tomorrow, and Thursday to do the same thing. Sometimes I wonder whether I'm doing any good by doing this. I think I am (I should say we are because others from our church are doing this, too). I sometimes run my mouth off about leaving the church building and hitting the streets but I need to recognize that it's not always easy. In the midst of all of this, though, God is with me and us. The birth of Jesus tells me so.
Thursday, December 03, 2009
Mary's witness
From my contribution to our eNews:
Tuesday was World AIDS Day and, rightfully so, emphasis has been given in recent years on the AIDS epidemic in Africa. While that certainly deserves our attention, I also remember Darryl on Dec. 1.
I first moved to the Chicago area in 1992 and soon started volunteering with an organization that was then called Open Hands Chicago. My task was pretty simple--deliver meals in the Uptown and Edgewater neighborhoods to people with AIDS who were unable to make meals for themselves. Darryl was one of those people. We were never close, but our relationship reminded me that there were real people at these addresses who struggled as they lived with this disease.
It's appropriate that World AIDS Day comes during the Advent season. While I enjoy the pre-Christmas preparation as much as anyone (I'm listening to "Silent Night" on Pandora as I type this), it's important to remember the radical words that Mary sang when she discovered that she was pregnant: "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowlinesss of his servant...He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty" (an excerpt from Luke 1:46-55).
Mary reminds me that God came first to the the forgotten, the sick, the lonely. We must never forget that because the only way that God will lift up the lowly and fill the hungry with good things is through you and me doing things like delivering meals, advocating for the voiceless, and loving the lonely.
Tuesday was World AIDS Day and, rightfully so, emphasis has been given in recent years on the AIDS epidemic in Africa. While that certainly deserves our attention, I also remember Darryl on Dec. 1.
I first moved to the Chicago area in 1992 and soon started volunteering with an organization that was then called Open Hands Chicago. My task was pretty simple--deliver meals in the Uptown and Edgewater neighborhoods to people with AIDS who were unable to make meals for themselves. Darryl was one of those people. We were never close, but our relationship reminded me that there were real people at these addresses who struggled as they lived with this disease.
It's appropriate that World AIDS Day comes during the Advent season. While I enjoy the pre-Christmas preparation as much as anyone (I'm listening to "Silent Night" on Pandora as I type this), it's important to remember the radical words that Mary sang when she discovered that she was pregnant: "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowlinesss of his servant...He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty" (an excerpt from Luke 1:46-55).
Mary reminds me that God came first to the the forgotten, the sick, the lonely. We must never forget that because the only way that God will lift up the lowly and fill the hungry with good things is through you and me doing things like delivering meals, advocating for the voiceless, and loving the lonely.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Skipping church
"I, on the other hand, had a wonderful day. And I owe it all to skipping church."
--Homer Simpson
I skipped church last Sunday. Blatant. Premeditated. I'm not sure if it's admirable or sad that I can't remember the last church I did that. Of course, when you're pastor, it kind of goes with the territory that you'll be in worship, but even when I took a Sunday off as a pastor, there was usually a reason (vacation, sabbatical, conference) and, even then, I tried to go to worship somewhere.
It was supposed to be a beautiful day last Sunday so on Saturday, I told my wife, let's go to Starved Rock State Park tomorrow and let's leave in the morning. I've always wondered what it was like, though, for a family to just do something else other than go to church and as we sat there eating our picnic lunch, my wife intimated that she could kind of get used to not going to church. (I think she was kidding...I think).
But she had a point because it was a beautiful day. Our son wasn't sold on the idea and whined a bit (OK, whined a lot) but once we got there and started hiking around, our moods improved dramatically. As much as we enjoy living in the city, I'm finding it more and more important for us to make sure our kids stay in touch with nature so they get a more holistic view of God's creation.
I must confess that, as a pastor, I would occasionally silently judge people if I knew they were doing something else other than being in worship. I do think it's important for folks to be in worship on a regular basis, but, after last Sunday, if a person needs to play hooky on the occasional Sunday, I think I may have a better understanding of why.
--Homer Simpson
I skipped church last Sunday. Blatant. Premeditated. I'm not sure if it's admirable or sad that I can't remember the last church I did that. Of course, when you're pastor, it kind of goes with the territory that you'll be in worship, but even when I took a Sunday off as a pastor, there was usually a reason (vacation, sabbatical, conference) and, even then, I tried to go to worship somewhere.
It was supposed to be a beautiful day last Sunday so on Saturday, I told my wife, let's go to Starved Rock State Park tomorrow and let's leave in the morning. I've always wondered what it was like, though, for a family to just do something else other than go to church and as we sat there eating our picnic lunch, my wife intimated that she could kind of get used to not going to church. (I think she was kidding...I think).
But she had a point because it was a beautiful day. Our son wasn't sold on the idea and whined a bit (OK, whined a lot) but once we got there and started hiking around, our moods improved dramatically. As much as we enjoy living in the city, I'm finding it more and more important for us to make sure our kids stay in touch with nature so they get a more holistic view of God's creation.
I must confess that, as a pastor, I would occasionally silently judge people if I knew they were doing something else other than being in worship. I do think it's important for folks to be in worship on a regular basis, but, after last Sunday, if a person needs to play hooky on the occasional Sunday, I think I may have a better understanding of why.
Friday, November 20, 2009
When things don't change
One of my favorite stores is a place I only visit about once a year and I'm only in there for 10 minutes or so. But I still look forward to it.
It's called The Shaver Shop and it's located in Evanston near the Davis St. Metra stop. Its sells electric razors and accessories and it's like walking through a time warp whenever I go in. Absolutely nothing changes about it. The signs and notices on the wall are the same (one sign says they accept BankAmericard, which became Visa in the mid-1970s), the magazines seem to be the same, the man (I assume is the owner) who helps me is the same. The products change, but that's about it.
I've wondered why I enjoy going in there and I suppose it has something to do with the fact that we are constantly bombarded with the message that everything in our world is changing and changing quickly so you better keep up. In many ways, I welcome change (especially when it comes to the church), but it's also kind of nice to have a few things that remain the same.
I'm thankful that God's promise that God will always love us and will always be present in our lives is one of those things. That will never change and I base my hope on that abiding and steadfast promise.
It's called The Shaver Shop and it's located in Evanston near the Davis St. Metra stop. Its sells electric razors and accessories and it's like walking through a time warp whenever I go in. Absolutely nothing changes about it. The signs and notices on the wall are the same (one sign says they accept BankAmericard, which became Visa in the mid-1970s), the magazines seem to be the same, the man (I assume is the owner) who helps me is the same. The products change, but that's about it.
I've wondered why I enjoy going in there and I suppose it has something to do with the fact that we are constantly bombarded with the message that everything in our world is changing and changing quickly so you better keep up. In many ways, I welcome change (especially when it comes to the church), but it's also kind of nice to have a few things that remain the same.
I'm thankful that God's promise that God will always love us and will always be present in our lives is one of those things. That will never change and I base my hope on that abiding and steadfast promise.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
At home in a new place
I've had a few people ask about how our first worship service as Urban Village Church went last Sunday night and I've been a bit surprised that my first reaction has been silence. I still haven't been able to put into words what my feelings and emotions were like that night. It's still a struggle to articulate it, but I'll give it a shot.
On the one hand, everything went great. We had around 80 people show up which, if you think about it, is pretty remarkable because just a few months ago, we had 2, Trey and I (well, a few more if you count our families). The venue was perfect and the transition between the Korean congregation that worships there in the afternoon and our worship went as smoothly as we could have hoped for (a last-minute email made me nervous about this, but it all worked out). The musicians were great (one found through a contact of Trey's, the other found on Craigslist). I preached and I think that went pretty well. At least people told me it went well.
And yet I still feel a bit detached from it all, probably because it hasn't sunk in that this thing (a.k.a. Urban Village) we've been working on for five months, this thing we've been thinking about for more than two years has actually started. I think we were all so anxious about everything running smoothly while also keeping an eye out for people who said they would come and didn't and being surprised by others who we never would have dreamed show up and did, it was hard to really and truly appreciate the evening.
I think, though, that the best way to describe it for me is that it felt like home. I've experienced a fair number of different worship services the last few months and have felt a little like Goldilocks (too much of something in one, too little of something in another). But Sunday night, it just felt right, even though it's still a work in progress and we have lots of areas in which we can improve. I was surrounded by a lot of people I didn't know and I felt a connection that I hadn't felt in a while. That is a very good thing since I preached about the need for followers of Jesus and questioners of Jesus to be in community together.
I have a feeling we'll look back on this night and chuckle at how we did things. But I also have a feeling that the sense of overwhelming gratitude for what God did in that place during that hour (and all the hours leading up to it) will only grow stronger as the years go along.
On the one hand, everything went great. We had around 80 people show up which, if you think about it, is pretty remarkable because just a few months ago, we had 2, Trey and I (well, a few more if you count our families). The venue was perfect and the transition between the Korean congregation that worships there in the afternoon and our worship went as smoothly as we could have hoped for (a last-minute email made me nervous about this, but it all worked out). The musicians were great (one found through a contact of Trey's, the other found on Craigslist). I preached and I think that went pretty well. At least people told me it went well.
And yet I still feel a bit detached from it all, probably because it hasn't sunk in that this thing (a.k.a. Urban Village) we've been working on for five months, this thing we've been thinking about for more than two years has actually started. I think we were all so anxious about everything running smoothly while also keeping an eye out for people who said they would come and didn't and being surprised by others who we never would have dreamed show up and did, it was hard to really and truly appreciate the evening.
I think, though, that the best way to describe it for me is that it felt like home. I've experienced a fair number of different worship services the last few months and have felt a little like Goldilocks (too much of something in one, too little of something in another). But Sunday night, it just felt right, even though it's still a work in progress and we have lots of areas in which we can improve. I was surrounded by a lot of people I didn't know and I felt a connection that I hadn't felt in a while. That is a very good thing since I preached about the need for followers of Jesus and questioners of Jesus to be in community together.
I have a feeling we'll look back on this night and chuckle at how we did things. But I also have a feeling that the sense of overwhelming gratitude for what God did in that place during that hour (and all the hours leading up to it) will only grow stronger as the years go along.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Sit. Stay.
For years, I've had my prayer/devotional time early in the morning, right after I wake up. I'm usually the first one up (not counting our son's occasional ventures into our room around 3 a.m.) so it's quiet and allows me to start the day with the right focus. Granted, I'd fall asleep while praying from time to time (hey, the disciples did it), but, still it worked out well. That's changed once school started this fall.
School buses aren't too common in the city so I've been driving my daughter to school nearly every day. It's not that bad of a drive. At most, it takes 15 minutes and we leave around 7:40. If I want to run in the morning, though, that pretty much means my prayer time has shifted to 8:30 or 9. Normally, that wouldn't be a huge deal, but my body has been used to getting going with the day at 8:30 or 9 so I'm fighting my mind now. It says, "Hey, this is your most productive time of the day and you're spending it...praying?!? You should be writing, planning, answering e-mail."
At 8:30, I feel a little like our dog when she's particularly energetic. The only way to get her (the dog) to settle down is to use an authoritarian voice and command, "Sit. Stay." And, most of the time, she does. In fact, she seems a little relieved that some boundaries have been placed on her.
Those words came to mind yesterday morning as I was eager to get going. Sit, the Spirit said. Stay. And I did. And I was glad. I've had to get used to this new rhythm, but it's slowly coming.
School buses aren't too common in the city so I've been driving my daughter to school nearly every day. It's not that bad of a drive. At most, it takes 15 minutes and we leave around 7:40. If I want to run in the morning, though, that pretty much means my prayer time has shifted to 8:30 or 9. Normally, that wouldn't be a huge deal, but my body has been used to getting going with the day at 8:30 or 9 so I'm fighting my mind now. It says, "Hey, this is your most productive time of the day and you're spending it...praying?!? You should be writing, planning, answering e-mail."
At 8:30, I feel a little like our dog when she's particularly energetic. The only way to get her (the dog) to settle down is to use an authoritarian voice and command, "Sit. Stay." And, most of the time, she does. In fact, she seems a little relieved that some boundaries have been placed on her.
Those words came to mind yesterday morning as I was eager to get going. Sit, the Spirit said. Stay. And I did. And I was glad. I've had to get used to this new rhythm, but it's slowly coming.
Sunday, November 08, 2009
Wanted: Wide, open spaces
We're understandably been asked quite a bit how we like living in the city compared to the suburbs and we've really loved it. I'm speaking for all of us, which may be a bit presumptuous (the kids occasionally say they want to move back), but I've really thrived on the energy that living downtown offers.
Until today. Or, more accurately, until last Friday.
My wife's birthday was yesterday so I spent a little time shopping for her gift on Friday. She had a couple specific requests which I thought would make things easy, but for some reason I got caught in the vortex of North Michigan Avenue and didn't feel like I could escape. I'm not a big fan of shopping the Magnificent Mile--too many people, too many stores, not enough selection (at least for what I wanted). I finally got out of there with my purchases, but ever since then I've had this feeling of claustrophobia and the city feels like it's closing in on me a bit. Part of the reason may be that our son's been sick so we've been cooped inside with him during this beautiful weekend. I so wanted to escape to a forest preserve this afternoon, but Anne had some friends coming down so it didn't work out. Maybe a run by the lake tomorrow will help.
Back in the saddle...
...in more ways than one.
After spending the last two to three years blogging on my .mac account, I've finally given up and come back to blogspot, mainly because of convenience. I won't bore you with the details, but it got to the point where it took 20 minutes or so to download one simple post. That got to be a hassle and I think was a big reason I stopped posting very regularly. So, I'm creating a minor inconvenience by telling people to come back to this site, but it's a lot easier for me so I appreciate your patience and understanding. I'll still podcast from time to time and I'll need to send people back to the other site for that, but, for now, this will be the place.
I was also back in the saddle in that I preached for the first time in close to five months today. I'd forgotten how much I missed it. I've been speaking at other churches in September and October, but that was essentially giving a stump speech about the new church. This felt like an actual sermon (going off a theme, picking a text, etc.) and I think it went OK (it was at Prince of Peace United Methodist Church in Elk Grove Village). One thing that threw me this week was coming up with a new schedule for sermon preparation. In my previous church, I was used to spending an hour or two every morning during the week doing the prep work. This week, it was kind of scattered. I need to be a more regimented this week as I prepare the sermon for our first worship as Urban Village Church. I'm pretty stoked for that. It's all coming together...
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Mission to Mississippi Days Two and Three
I won't be writing much tonight and, unfortunately, my part of the trip is going to be cut short because I learned tonight that my grandfather passed away today. I'm flying home tomorrow night to go to the funeral.
The weather has been superb and, though we're all sore, tired, and itching because of the bugs that keep after us, I think all will agree it has been well worth the trip. I spent some of the day on the roof, putting shingles up and also part of the day putting a new lattice around the foundation of Miss Ethel's home.
I've realized that it will take decades for this area to fully recover. So much to do. We drove down to the gulf (if you look at Hwy 90 along the Miss. southern border, you'll see where we drove) and parts are like a ghost town. You can see slats where houses where, swimming pools, torn down trees, but nothing else. Some homes have rebuilt, but those are nicer homes with folks who could probably afford to do so.
I've also been struck by how nice everyone is. You hear about southern hospitality, but I've been experiencing it first-hand. Today I had to call the electric company to ask them to shut off Miss Ethel's power so we could work on the roof (the line was in our way) and even the customer service rep was nice.
It's hard for me to collect my thoughts right now. So much to take in and now thinking about my grandfather and preparing the eulogy for his funeral Saturday. God is good, though, and I have been blessed.
The weather has been superb and, though we're all sore, tired, and itching because of the bugs that keep after us, I think all will agree it has been well worth the trip. I spent some of the day on the roof, putting shingles up and also part of the day putting a new lattice around the foundation of Miss Ethel's home.
I've realized that it will take decades for this area to fully recover. So much to do. We drove down to the gulf (if you look at Hwy 90 along the Miss. southern border, you'll see where we drove) and parts are like a ghost town. You can see slats where houses where, swimming pools, torn down trees, but nothing else. Some homes have rebuilt, but those are nicer homes with folks who could probably afford to do so.
I've also been struck by how nice everyone is. You hear about southern hospitality, but I've been experiencing it first-hand. Today I had to call the electric company to ask them to shut off Miss Ethel's power so we could work on the roof (the line was in our way) and even the customer service rep was nice.
It's hard for me to collect my thoughts right now. So much to take in and now thinking about my grandfather and preparing the eulogy for his funeral Saturday. God is good, though, and I have been blessed.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Mission to Mississippi--Day One
Today was our first full day on our Mississippi Mission Trip and we couldn've have asked for a better day weather-wise (probably near 70 degrees). Breakfast was at 6:30, so we were up pretty early.
An aside: They say that cats have a sense that tells them which humans don't like cats. Of course, they then proceed to go jump in that person's lap. I think I have the same kind of attraction to snorers. My apologies to those of you who snore, but, it's almost impossible for me to sleep when a snorer is near. Of course, there's a man right across from me in our bunk beds with a snore that's a bout a 6 on a scale of 1-10. Yes, I have earplugs and they help, but they're not soundproof. OK, I'm done complaining about snorers.
Anyway, we got up and ate breakfast. We're staying on the grounds of St. Paul United Methodist Church in Ocean Springs, MS. The church didn't get hit too severely by Katrina (at least I don't think it did), but it's obviously close to a lot of things that were destroyed. On the grounds of the church is a former Navy SEALS barracks which was purchased from the government by a local benefactor and that's where we're sleeping. Accommodations are pretty good and we eat our meals in the church.
I'm in a work group of about 9 or so and that includes fellow CUMC members Jay Geerdes and Joe Hmieleski (Sue Howard and Gerrie Geerdes are on the kitchen crew for the first couple of days). The work group also includes folks from LaSalle, Naperville, and Rockford. We're working on the house of a woman named Esther, who's 81, in the town of Moss Hill. I'm still not sure how or if the house was affected by Katrina, but she needs a new roof and her carport is/was pretty rickety. I say "was" because we demolished it while also getting a pretty good start on the roof.
I've talked about this issue before, but maybe I can finally resign myself to the fact that my brain just doesn't grasp carpentry. That's a hard thing to admit because it's such a guy kind of thing, but, when it comes to this kind of work, I'm definitely a follower. Most of my work was doing some demolishing (my crowbar got a workout today) and lifting up old shingles. I let others do the planning. I'll simply follow. That's actually a good thing for me to experience.
Esther's daughter's church is providing lunch for our group tomorrow, which should be a treat.
We came back around 5 today, waited in line for showers, and then ate meat loaf and cheesy potato casserole for dinner. Joe and I made a quick run to Wal-Mart (I needed Chap Stik and shampoo) and I called home, recieivng a boost when I heard my wife's voice.
We went down to the Gulf yesterday to get some perspective on the damage and I'll write about that tomorrow. I won't complain about snorers any more. I promise.
One more quick thing--I have to say that, so far, this has been a more enjoyabale experience than when I went on the Appalachia Service Project in 2001. Various reason for this (one major one is that the ASP trip was about a month after our daughter was born), but one is that it's such a joy to serve with Joe, Sue, Gerrie and Jay. Keep us in your prayers!
An aside: They say that cats have a sense that tells them which humans don't like cats. Of course, they then proceed to go jump in that person's lap. I think I have the same kind of attraction to snorers. My apologies to those of you who snore, but, it's almost impossible for me to sleep when a snorer is near. Of course, there's a man right across from me in our bunk beds with a snore that's a bout a 6 on a scale of 1-10. Yes, I have earplugs and they help, but they're not soundproof. OK, I'm done complaining about snorers.
Anyway, we got up and ate breakfast. We're staying on the grounds of St. Paul United Methodist Church in Ocean Springs, MS. The church didn't get hit too severely by Katrina (at least I don't think it did), but it's obviously close to a lot of things that were destroyed. On the grounds of the church is a former Navy SEALS barracks which was purchased from the government by a local benefactor and that's where we're sleeping. Accommodations are pretty good and we eat our meals in the church.
I'm in a work group of about 9 or so and that includes fellow CUMC members Jay Geerdes and Joe Hmieleski (Sue Howard and Gerrie Geerdes are on the kitchen crew for the first couple of days). The work group also includes folks from LaSalle, Naperville, and Rockford. We're working on the house of a woman named Esther, who's 81, in the town of Moss Hill. I'm still not sure how or if the house was affected by Katrina, but she needs a new roof and her carport is/was pretty rickety. I say "was" because we demolished it while also getting a pretty good start on the roof.
I've talked about this issue before, but maybe I can finally resign myself to the fact that my brain just doesn't grasp carpentry. That's a hard thing to admit because it's such a guy kind of thing, but, when it comes to this kind of work, I'm definitely a follower. Most of my work was doing some demolishing (my crowbar got a workout today) and lifting up old shingles. I let others do the planning. I'll simply follow. That's actually a good thing for me to experience.
Esther's daughter's church is providing lunch for our group tomorrow, which should be a treat.
We came back around 5 today, waited in line for showers, and then ate meat loaf and cheesy potato casserole for dinner. Joe and I made a quick run to Wal-Mart (I needed Chap Stik and shampoo) and I called home, recieivng a boost when I heard my wife's voice.
We went down to the Gulf yesterday to get some perspective on the damage and I'll write about that tomorrow. I won't complain about snorers any more. I promise.
One more quick thing--I have to say that, so far, this has been a more enjoyabale experience than when I went on the Appalachia Service Project in 2001. Various reason for this (one major one is that the ASP trip was about a month after our daughter was born), but one is that it's such a joy to serve with Joe, Sue, Gerrie and Jay. Keep us in your prayers!
Friday, September 15, 2006
Goodbye, blogspot...
It's been a great 12 months or so on blogspot, but my blog is moving on to (hopefully) more adventurous climes.
It's a very, very, very rough start, but I took a plunge into the domain name waters, bought genxrev and now have a new home at:
www.genxrev.com
In addition to all this newness, the blog has my first attempt at a podcast where I've recorded this Sunday's sermon. You can also go to iTunes, click on the "Podcasts" button on the upper left, type in "genxrev" in the search engine and you can listen to me there.
Frankly, I'm sick of myself and wouldn't be surprised if you are too, but, here it is. I'm going to keep this blog up, however, if you want to read earlier posts.
Thanks for reading!
It's a very, very, very rough start, but I took a plunge into the domain name waters, bought genxrev and now have a new home at:
www.genxrev.com
In addition to all this newness, the blog has my first attempt at a podcast where I've recorded this Sunday's sermon. You can also go to iTunes, click on the "Podcasts" button on the upper left, type in "genxrev" in the search engine and you can listen to me there.
Frankly, I'm sick of myself and wouldn't be surprised if you are too, but, here it is. I'm going to keep this blog up, however, if you want to read earlier posts.
Thanks for reading!
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Krispy Kreme grace
This must be a dad kind of thing, but I enjoy taking the kids out for doughnuts, though I try to limit it to once a week. (My 21-month-old now says "dough-dough.") For some reason, my daughter likes Dunkin Donuts the best even when there are much better doughnuts at a local bakery in Deerfield. So we take turns. One time, my bakery, the other time, hers. Other times, we really splurge and drive about 20 minutes to a Krispy Kreme. Krispy Kremes are everywhere now, but I first had one before they migrated north in Birmingham, Alabama. That was an epiphany. The highlight for the kids, though, are seeing them made. One of the things I like about KK is the sense of abundance. Whenever we go in, we all get a free glazed right off the conveyer belt, hot and soft. The people there are always happy to see us and appear to be so eager to please.
Contrast that attitude with a trip to Radio Shack later that day (last Monday). I shouldn't pick on Radio Shack because so many other businesses do this, but I simply wanted to buy a cable that would connect my computer to a TV. As I waited to pay, watching Ethan try every radio-controlled car in sight and Caroline ogle a Barbie computer, the salesperson slid a mobile phone in front of me. "Have you seen the new Motorola phone?" (There was a name for it that I can't recall--probably something Razr because doesn't Motorola make Razr phones?) I smiled weakly and said, "It's nice." He then engaged me in discussion about my cell phone carrier and whether we were happy with it and this brought out my frustration with suggestive selling. Suggestive sellers are never satisfied. It wasn't enough that I was buying this cable. I had to buy more to satisfy the salesperson.
It was such a contrast between these two experiences and it has something to do with being the church, but I can't put my finger on it. Maybe there's a Prodigal Son thing going on here. When we return to Krispy Kreme, we're welcomed and given the fatted calf/doughnut. That's a great feeling. When we go to other businesses where there's suggestive selling, there's a sense that one has to earn grace or love or satisfaction. One can never purchase or do enough.
Contrast that attitude with a trip to Radio Shack later that day (last Monday). I shouldn't pick on Radio Shack because so many other businesses do this, but I simply wanted to buy a cable that would connect my computer to a TV. As I waited to pay, watching Ethan try every radio-controlled car in sight and Caroline ogle a Barbie computer, the salesperson slid a mobile phone in front of me. "Have you seen the new Motorola phone?" (There was a name for it that I can't recall--probably something Razr because doesn't Motorola make Razr phones?) I smiled weakly and said, "It's nice." He then engaged me in discussion about my cell phone carrier and whether we were happy with it and this brought out my frustration with suggestive selling. Suggestive sellers are never satisfied. It wasn't enough that I was buying this cable. I had to buy more to satisfy the salesperson.
It was such a contrast between these two experiences and it has something to do with being the church, but I can't put my finger on it. Maybe there's a Prodigal Son thing going on here. When we return to Krispy Kreme, we're welcomed and given the fatted calf/doughnut. That's a great feeling. When we go to other businesses where there's suggestive selling, there's a sense that one has to earn grace or love or satisfaction. One can never purchase or do enough.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
A different kind of remembrance
Millions of people will do some significant remembering next Monday, the 5th anniversary of 9/11. I must confess I'm a little surprised at the amount of attention this anniversary is getting. I don't know if this is a media-driven thing or if I still am not grasping just how jarring this event was to our nation. Maybe some of both.
What really struck me today, though, was in reading about what happened on today's date 66 years ago. This is from the Writer's Almanac (www.writersalmanac.publicradio.org):
"It was on this day in 1940 that the German Luftwaffe began dropping bombs on London, in what became known as the London Blitz. On the first night, 600 German bombers came in waves, dropping explosive and incendiary devices over East London. St. Paul's Cathedral, Buckingham Palace, Lambeth Palace, Piccadilly, and the House of Commons were all hit. And that was just the first night.
"Over the next eight months, Nazis dropped tens of thousands of bombs on the city. At one point during the bombing raids, Germans attacked every night for fifty-seven consecutive nights. In addition to London, they bombed fifteen other British cities. By the end, more than 30,000 Londoners had been killed, and more than 100,000 houses were destroyed."
As awful as 9/11 was, I simply can't comprehend being bombed 57 nights in a row. It put a few things in perspective for me. That, and the fact that dozens/hundreds of Iraqis are dying every day due to various forms of conflict. The war over there has been so wrong.
If you think of it, pray for my cousin Tyler, a Marine who's serving his second tour of duty in Iraq. Thanks.
What really struck me today, though, was in reading about what happened on today's date 66 years ago. This is from the Writer's Almanac (www.writersalmanac.publicradio.org):
"It was on this day in 1940 that the German Luftwaffe began dropping bombs on London, in what became known as the London Blitz. On the first night, 600 German bombers came in waves, dropping explosive and incendiary devices over East London. St. Paul's Cathedral, Buckingham Palace, Lambeth Palace, Piccadilly, and the House of Commons were all hit. And that was just the first night.
"Over the next eight months, Nazis dropped tens of thousands of bombs on the city. At one point during the bombing raids, Germans attacked every night for fifty-seven consecutive nights. In addition to London, they bombed fifteen other British cities. By the end, more than 30,000 Londoners had been killed, and more than 100,000 houses were destroyed."
As awful as 9/11 was, I simply can't comprehend being bombed 57 nights in a row. It put a few things in perspective for me. That, and the fact that dozens/hundreds of Iraqis are dying every day due to various forms of conflict. The war over there has been so wrong.
If you think of it, pray for my cousin Tyler, a Marine who's serving his second tour of duty in Iraq. Thanks.
Monday, September 04, 2006
Labor Day thoughts
Sights and sounds from a Labor Day in Matteson and Park Forest, Illinois...
I ran in a 10-mile race today down on the southern suburb of Park Forest. We decided to make an overnight of it and stayed in a hotel in Matteson last night.
--I realized while staying at the hotel how white the area in which I live is. I'm not often in a situation when I'm in a social setting with members of other ethnic groups and I'm in the minority. The key phrase here is social setting. I'm occasionally in the minority in other instances, but I'm usually in a position of a servant helping others who are poor. I have the label of servant, but, really, I'm still in a position of power. Yesterday in the hotel pool, though, we were swimming with Hispanic and African-American families all simply wanting to have fun with their children. There are Hispanic families who live in Highland Park, but, again, it's rare to be in a social situation with them when we're on fairly equal social ground. What can I do to foster these opportunities?
--We went to Olive Garden last night so I could do a little carbo-loading. About 30 minutes after we sat down, another family sat down, too. He had on running gear and, to be honest, looked African so we assumed he was running in the race, which has become nationally known and draws some international runners. I asked him if he was running, he said he was, and we engaged in some small talk throughout the evening. The next day, we discoverd he was Gilbert Tuhabonye, an American citizen who is from Burundi. He's a top international runner who also had a book written about him and his survival of an incident of genocide. Check out his amazing story at www.gilbertsgazelles.com.
--It was a fun race wih a lot of different musical ensembles along the way, including a string quartet, polka band, church choir, and bagpipes. A little rainy and a little hilly, but a great way to spend Labor Day.
--Speaking of Labor Day, here are a couple ways to honor the day. The first is to go to www.hotelworkersrising.org and learn about the effort to earn better pay and rights for hotel workers. If organizing isn't your thing, here are some things to consider doing the next time you're in a hotel (I got these suggestions from my clergy colleague, Rev. Dr. Marti Scott):
1. The day you check out, strip your own bed(s)
2. Put your used towels on the toilet seat to save the worker from having to bend down too far
3. Tip your housekeeper each day anywhere from $1-$5, more if you're really messy
4. Leave a note of appreciation and, if you're comfortable doing this, tell them you'll pray for them that day.
These are small acts of kindness and compassion that will help a person who does an enormous amount of work for not a lot of pay.
I ran in a 10-mile race today down on the southern suburb of Park Forest. We decided to make an overnight of it and stayed in a hotel in Matteson last night.
--I realized while staying at the hotel how white the area in which I live is. I'm not often in a situation when I'm in a social setting with members of other ethnic groups and I'm in the minority. The key phrase here is social setting. I'm occasionally in the minority in other instances, but I'm usually in a position of a servant helping others who are poor. I have the label of servant, but, really, I'm still in a position of power. Yesterday in the hotel pool, though, we were swimming with Hispanic and African-American families all simply wanting to have fun with their children. There are Hispanic families who live in Highland Park, but, again, it's rare to be in a social situation with them when we're on fairly equal social ground. What can I do to foster these opportunities?
--We went to Olive Garden last night so I could do a little carbo-loading. About 30 minutes after we sat down, another family sat down, too. He had on running gear and, to be honest, looked African so we assumed he was running in the race, which has become nationally known and draws some international runners. I asked him if he was running, he said he was, and we engaged in some small talk throughout the evening. The next day, we discoverd he was Gilbert Tuhabonye, an American citizen who is from Burundi. He's a top international runner who also had a book written about him and his survival of an incident of genocide. Check out his amazing story at www.gilbertsgazelles.com.
--It was a fun race wih a lot of different musical ensembles along the way, including a string quartet, polka band, church choir, and bagpipes. A little rainy and a little hilly, but a great way to spend Labor Day.
--Speaking of Labor Day, here are a couple ways to honor the day. The first is to go to www.hotelworkersrising.org and learn about the effort to earn better pay and rights for hotel workers. If organizing isn't your thing, here are some things to consider doing the next time you're in a hotel (I got these suggestions from my clergy colleague, Rev. Dr. Marti Scott):
1. The day you check out, strip your own bed(s)
2. Put your used towels on the toilet seat to save the worker from having to bend down too far
3. Tip your housekeeper each day anywhere from $1-$5, more if you're really messy
4. Leave a note of appreciation and, if you're comfortable doing this, tell them you'll pray for them that day.
These are small acts of kindness and compassion that will help a person who does an enormous amount of work for not a lot of pay.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Is this heaven?
I ran in a 5K three weeks ago down in the city that celebrated (?) the anniversary of Elvis' (alleged) death. It's quite a party--held at 6 p.m. on a Saturday with plenty of runners dressed as Elvis, music, food, drinks, etc. It's a nice route, too, that skirts around the Lincoln Park Zoo and goes along Lake Shore Drive for awhile.
Many bigger races these days have professional photographers snapping shots of runners with the hopes that each runner will purchase a memento of their looking hot, sweaty, and a little pained. Who wouldn't line up to buy one of those? I almost always pass on the purchase, but there was one shot of me that I simply couldn't resist.
Iowans are trained now to answer the question, "Is this heaven?" with "No, it's Iowa!" That's a line, of course, from "Field of Dreams." But I wonder if this photo also captures a sense of what heaven might be like. There's a crowd along the side cheering me (and others) on. I'm crossing the finish line (with the big "FINISH" sign above me). Someone's there to greet me. More specifically, someone's there to give me a high five. It isn't just anyone, though. It's the king. The king is there awaiting my finish to say, Well done, good and faithful runner. In this case, the "king" is a professional Elvis impersonator, but I kind of like the idea of a different King greeting me when my time comes to cross the final finish line.
I'll try to get around to scanning the shot and putting it up soon.
Many bigger races these days have professional photographers snapping shots of runners with the hopes that each runner will purchase a memento of their looking hot, sweaty, and a little pained. Who wouldn't line up to buy one of those? I almost always pass on the purchase, but there was one shot of me that I simply couldn't resist.
Iowans are trained now to answer the question, "Is this heaven?" with "No, it's Iowa!" That's a line, of course, from "Field of Dreams." But I wonder if this photo also captures a sense of what heaven might be like. There's a crowd along the side cheering me (and others) on. I'm crossing the finish line (with the big "FINISH" sign above me). Someone's there to greet me. More specifically, someone's there to give me a high five. It isn't just anyone, though. It's the king. The king is there awaiting my finish to say, Well done, good and faithful runner. In this case, the "king" is a professional Elvis impersonator, but I kind of like the idea of a different King greeting me when my time comes to cross the final finish line.
I'll try to get around to scanning the shot and putting it up soon.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Holy ground
Written last Friday...
There’s a “religious” song that I guess you could call contemporary called “Holy Ground” and the first part goes like this: “We are standing on holy ground/And I know that there are angels all around.” It’s not Bob Dylan, I know, but I’ve been humming that song the last 24 hours because I’m currently at a place that is holy ground for me, St. Procopius Benedictine Abbey in Lisle, IL. I’ve been coming here to hang with the monks for spiritual retreats for about 10 years now and I always leave with a peaceful heart. Sometimes the sacredness of the place is overwhelming for me. Yesterday as I walked into my room (or “cell” as the monks would call it), I was surprised at how emotional I felt as I looked out my window at the familiar surroundings. When I was pastor at Riverside UMC, I would come here almost every month. Since my children have come along, though, I’m lucky if I come out once a year. This is my second time this year—if I could come out quarterly, I’d be thrilled. I am unbelievably blessed to have an understanding wife who affirms my desire and need to be here.
There are two main reasons why this is holy ground. One is that I unplug myself from everything and feel myself naked before God. I don’t have anywhere to run or hide and so I’m confronted with my life and questions: Am I fulfilling my call? Am I loving God and neighbor with all my heart, strength, and mind? Am I allowing myself to receive love from God and neighbor in the same way? All of these questions pop into my head as I read, sleep, and walk.
The abbey is not a total escape from society. It’s still in the middle of suburbia so you can hear the cars and airplanes, but it’s secluded enough so I feel like I’m away. There are nice wooded areas with paths that I can lose myself in. There’s an apple orchard and vineyard that I can wander in and admire the literal fruits of some of the monks’ labors. I used to keep myself on a schedule as far as what I did on my retreat—reading Scripture, journaling, praying. Now I’m a lot more flexible and kind of just do as the Spirit leads. As one who is too regimented in his day-to-day schedule, that’s very freeing.
The second reason is to experience bountiful and beautiful hospitality. My liaison is Father Thomas, who is the Guest Master here. I guess you could call him a concierge of sorts. He usually greets me within a couple hours of my arrival (I know the place well enough where I can go to my room right away and start retreating) with a big smile and warm handshake. I’m comfortable enough now where I can go to the various times of prayer (Morning Praise at 6 a.m., Noon Prayer at 12 p.m., Conventual Mass at 4:50 p.m. and Evening Praise at 7 p.m.) by myself, but I need his guidance at mealtimes where he shows me where I should sit. Breakfast is eaten in silence, lunch is a buffet where we can visit with one another, and dinner is also eaten in silence with holy reading. Yesterday was a feast day (the Feast of St. Bartholomew), however, so dinner was extra nice and we could talk. As soon as I sat down, a monk with a heavy Eastern European accent offered me half his red, garden-fresh tomato. I gladly accepted. Next to me was Fr. Paschal, whom I love because he is overjoyed at the smallest things. Soon Fr. Michael came by and offered me a bit of liqueur called Benedictine and Brandy (or B&B as everyone called it) made by a monastery in France. It was Fr. Michael’s birthday so I supposed I couldn’t have refused though I’m a bit of a novice when it comes to drinking anything stronger than beer or wine (not that I’m an expert at drinking those!). It was pretty strong stuff so I took Fr. Thomas’ advice and sipped it after the meal of turkey, stuffing, squash, and chocolate cheesecake.
Many of the monks remember me, a few call out my name, and a few note that I don’t come around as much any more. They don’t say it with judgment but with regret. I agree with them, mention my children, and they smile in understanding.
I’m about to end my time here and though it was only a 24-hour retreat and I leave content. Sometimes I’m fired up to go back out and follow Christ’s example and call. Other times, I’m simply at peace and try to ease myself back into “normal” life. But I am changed every time I come to this holy ground. I hope you have those places, too. Maybe I’ll go through some others in another post.
There’s a “religious” song that I guess you could call contemporary called “Holy Ground” and the first part goes like this: “We are standing on holy ground/And I know that there are angels all around.” It’s not Bob Dylan, I know, but I’ve been humming that song the last 24 hours because I’m currently at a place that is holy ground for me, St. Procopius Benedictine Abbey in Lisle, IL. I’ve been coming here to hang with the monks for spiritual retreats for about 10 years now and I always leave with a peaceful heart. Sometimes the sacredness of the place is overwhelming for me. Yesterday as I walked into my room (or “cell” as the monks would call it), I was surprised at how emotional I felt as I looked out my window at the familiar surroundings. When I was pastor at Riverside UMC, I would come here almost every month. Since my children have come along, though, I’m lucky if I come out once a year. This is my second time this year—if I could come out quarterly, I’d be thrilled. I am unbelievably blessed to have an understanding wife who affirms my desire and need to be here.
There are two main reasons why this is holy ground. One is that I unplug myself from everything and feel myself naked before God. I don’t have anywhere to run or hide and so I’m confronted with my life and questions: Am I fulfilling my call? Am I loving God and neighbor with all my heart, strength, and mind? Am I allowing myself to receive love from God and neighbor in the same way? All of these questions pop into my head as I read, sleep, and walk.
The abbey is not a total escape from society. It’s still in the middle of suburbia so you can hear the cars and airplanes, but it’s secluded enough so I feel like I’m away. There are nice wooded areas with paths that I can lose myself in. There’s an apple orchard and vineyard that I can wander in and admire the literal fruits of some of the monks’ labors. I used to keep myself on a schedule as far as what I did on my retreat—reading Scripture, journaling, praying. Now I’m a lot more flexible and kind of just do as the Spirit leads. As one who is too regimented in his day-to-day schedule, that’s very freeing.
The second reason is to experience bountiful and beautiful hospitality. My liaison is Father Thomas, who is the Guest Master here. I guess you could call him a concierge of sorts. He usually greets me within a couple hours of my arrival (I know the place well enough where I can go to my room right away and start retreating) with a big smile and warm handshake. I’m comfortable enough now where I can go to the various times of prayer (Morning Praise at 6 a.m., Noon Prayer at 12 p.m., Conventual Mass at 4:50 p.m. and Evening Praise at 7 p.m.) by myself, but I need his guidance at mealtimes where he shows me where I should sit. Breakfast is eaten in silence, lunch is a buffet where we can visit with one another, and dinner is also eaten in silence with holy reading. Yesterday was a feast day (the Feast of St. Bartholomew), however, so dinner was extra nice and we could talk. As soon as I sat down, a monk with a heavy Eastern European accent offered me half his red, garden-fresh tomato. I gladly accepted. Next to me was Fr. Paschal, whom I love because he is overjoyed at the smallest things. Soon Fr. Michael came by and offered me a bit of liqueur called Benedictine and Brandy (or B&B as everyone called it) made by a monastery in France. It was Fr. Michael’s birthday so I supposed I couldn’t have refused though I’m a bit of a novice when it comes to drinking anything stronger than beer or wine (not that I’m an expert at drinking those!). It was pretty strong stuff so I took Fr. Thomas’ advice and sipped it after the meal of turkey, stuffing, squash, and chocolate cheesecake.
Many of the monks remember me, a few call out my name, and a few note that I don’t come around as much any more. They don’t say it with judgment but with regret. I agree with them, mention my children, and they smile in understanding.
I’m about to end my time here and though it was only a 24-hour retreat and I leave content. Sometimes I’m fired up to go back out and follow Christ’s example and call. Other times, I’m simply at peace and try to ease myself back into “normal” life. But I am changed every time I come to this holy ground. I hope you have those places, too. Maybe I’ll go through some others in another post.
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