Disorientation

We had an interesting conversation at my small group Tuesday night about city life. Caelyn Randall started the ball rolling as she talked about the disorienting influences that confront us when we live in the city. We then talked about the things in peoples' lives that might reorient them--being a part of a group, for example, or a person's vocation. But then people started talking about how sometimes things in city life that may seem disorienting (like sirens or traffic noise) really can make us feel at home. Some noted it's when they're in remote and quiet places when they really feel freaked out!

Seemingly disorienting things, then, can make us feel oriented, connected, home. I like that. I think God does, too. The Message translation of Genesis 1:1-2 goes like this: "First this: God created the Heavens and Earth--all you see, all you don't see. Earth was a soup of nothingness, a bottomless emptiness, an inky blackness." From the beginning, then, God created life out of disorientation.

On days (even weeks) when I feel out of sorts and/or aimless, this is comforting to know I can orient myself around a God who thrives on creating amazing things out of disorientation.

Consider the raven?

Emily Dickinson once said that "consider the lilies is the only Commandment I have ever obeyed." I've always liked that quote for a number of reasons, especially because I'm always trying to "notice" and "consider" things myself. What's not to like about considering lilies (check out Luke 12:22-31)?

As I was reading those verses this morning, though, a part of the passage jumped out at me: "Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them." This comes before the lilies part.

Consider the ravens? I have totally missed that in the past. The only time when I even think about ravens is when I hear about Edgar Allan Poe (which isn't often) or think about the NFL variety (Baltimore's team is named the Ravens). So I decided to do what Jesus said.

Have you ever considered a raven? I hadn't. I knew they looked a little like crows, but when I started looking up images, I must confess, I wasn't exactly impressed. It's certainly not a colorful bird and its beak looks a little big for its face. But I still like this commandment that Jesus gives because the world is not all lilies. We are called to consider all of God's creation and recognize that God can be active and moving in all parts of it. Even the nondescript creatures. I'm not sure if this is what Jesus meant when he said this, but I'd like to think he would be intrigued with where I went with it.

Hoping it gets more crowded

There are a few times when I hope the location I'm at becomes more crowded. Church is one. And...the other would be...still thinking...not quite sure I can come up with another example. I know that businesses need to be busy in order to stay open, but I kind of like it when the movie theater, museum, and/or restaurant is empty. I want them to be busy, but not when I'm there. Which is crazy to say when you live in downtown Chicago.

But I'm sitting here in a local cafe in my neighborhood and it's an answer to prayer. I've been hoping for a place like this. The South Loop has a lot of chain stores. There's a huge Target, Home Depot, Whole Foods, and Jewel. There's a cramped Starbucks and a Potbelly's and a Subway and, of course, a Dunkin Donuts. But no local coffee shop/diner where I can hang out. Until now.

Donna's Cafe just opened a couple weeks ago and the people are simply fantastic. I ordered a tea and a cookie a half hour ago and as I was enjoying this, the woman at the counter said, "Pssst!" I looked up and she motioned for me to come to her. "I just took these out of the oven," she whispered, and she pushed another cookie toward me. A little later, another person came by and offered to refill my tea. This kind of hospitality is rare in these parts.

But I sit here alone. I want Donna's to stay open so, for her sake, I won't mind sitting in a crowded cafe.

Showing up

I just came across a quote from Philip Yancey that said that 90 percent of prayer is simply showing up. I really like that.

It goes along with my belief in the Woody Allen quote that 80 percent of life is just showing up as it relates to church planting (though I'm clearly not saying that Woody Allen necessarily cares about church planting). So much of planting is just being present in lots and lots of different places. I don't have to say anything profound or have all the answers. I just need to be there.

I hope this also applies to parenting. Most days I play with the kids sometime during the 5pm-6:30 pm time slot. Needless to say, I don't have a ton of energy or creativity during this time and I find myself sometimes suggesting we do something like a board game which sometimes works, but other times...not so much.

I do have moments of Creative Parenting, like yesterday when I suggested we pick a letter, get out our cameras and take pictures of things around the house that begin with that letter. Pardon me while I pat myself on the back. But most of the time it's just me showing up, being present, being there. I tend to think that that's quite a lot.

Take notice

I recently celebrated a birthday and while I appreciated all the birthday wishes on my Facebook wall, the correspondence that meant the most to me was a 4-page handwritten letter from my grandmother (who also sweetly included a $10 bill). We named our daughter after my grandmother, who is one of my spiritual heroes. One of the qualities I most admire about her is her ability to notice and cherish things. Here's a paragraph from that letter: "Grandpa enjoys watching the squirrels here. There are 3 gray ones & one black one. (Uncle) John brought him in some corn & they really like that. It's fun to watch them, play & eat." Those sentences may not seem like much to you, but I Iove those words because they describe the way my grandparents notice things like squirrels and then quietly observe and (I have no doubt) give thanks for them. There are so many things I miss in my life as my eyes stay glued to my iPhone. Meanwhile, the sacredness with which God has imbued this world keeps popping out. May God give all of us the awareness to notice. "The act of noticing helps you realize that your life is already suffused with the presence of God." -- James Martin in "The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything

Parsing Punctuation

My article for our e-newsletter this week:
Some people prefer periods. I don't have a problem with periods. When it comes to a person's faith life, periods are great. They make a statement, like, God loves you. Period. Jesus is God-in-the-flesh. Period. Some people, however, use periods exclusively. Everything they say about God ends in a period and there's no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

Other people prefer question marks. I like question marks, too. They provoke conversation and can engender closer relationships. A couple of great questions from the Bible: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Who do people say that I am?

There's room for both in our faith (and I'd also throw in the exclamation point as in "We have seen the Lord!" after the resurrection of Jesus). It's a good thing when we can make definitive statements about our faith. It's also a good thing (and very Scriptural) to ask questions, too. We'll be doing a lot of questioning during this upcoming sermon series, but those questions are also backed up by periods. We believe that God wants a deeper relationship with all of us. Questions are a great way to get there. Period. Or, if the mood strikes you, exclamation point.

Chicago Experience of the Day
We have our staff meetings at the Chicago Cultural Center in the big room that acts as a meeting place for lots of different folks. During one meeting we had yesterday, as dozens of people were huddled over computers and coffee cups, these two young women were rehearsing the Alleluia Chorus complete with hand and arm motions, like a combination of a concert and swing choir.

Praying over Christmas cards

We kicked off what has become a really nice holiday tradition last night. We got this idea from a former parishioner of mine whose family saved all their Christmas cards and then prayed for a person/family every day after Christmas until they ran out of cards.

It's nice for many reasons, including, of course, that it's always a good thing to pray for people and it gives our kids a sense of what petitionary/intercessory prayer is and isn't. In the midst of receiving these cards, of course, I rarely take the time to really sit down with the cards and this gives me a chance to read through them and give thanks for a wide array of people and organizations...including those we barely know!

The best sense of the word

For quite some time now, I've talked about Urban Village being a church that's "evangelical in the best sense of the word." In my own head, I've known what that meant (kind of), but I haven't been called on it until yesterday. I'm surprised it's taken that long.

I wasn't really called on it, but was nicely asked about it. On the first Sunday of the month, we offer "Urban Village 101" (formerly Coffee with the Pastors) after worship that's basically a summary of what we want to be about, how we started, what our mission is, etc. as well as answering any questions that people have.

Sample questions/concerns from yesterday: You say you're inclusive, but what does that really mean? Just how tied are you to the United Methodist Church? I can't get over the violent God in the Bible...what's up with that? And, of course, what do you mean when you say you're evangelical in the best sense of the word? No softballs in that group.

Evangelical, of course, has lots of many meanings in our society today and I'm guessing many people equate it with a particular political stance on particular issues (e.g. abortion, homosexuality). Some also use it to denote a particular theological stance. For example, George Barna, who's an evangelical pollster and researcher, defines an evangelical as one who meets these criteria:

1. Makes a personal commitment to Jesus Christ that is still important in their life today; and believes that after they die they will go to Heaven because they have confessed their sins and have accepted Jesus Christ as their savior.

2. Believes that God is the all-powerful, all-knowing, perfect creator of the universe who rules the world today.

3. Strongly agrees that their religious faith is very important in their life.

4. Strongly agrees that the Bible is totally accurate in all of the principles it teaches.

5. Strongly disagrees that when He lived on earth, Jesus Christ was human and committed sins, like other people.

6. Strongly agrees that they, personally, have a responsibility to tell other people their religious beliefs.

7. Strongly disagrees that if a person is generally good, or does enough good things for others during their life, they will earn a place in Heaven.

8. Strongly disagrees that the devil, or Satan, is not a living being but is a symbol of evil.

The root of evangelical, though, is the Greek word, evangelion, which means gospel or good news. That's it. Good news. What that good news, of course, is open to interpretation. For me (in short), it means changed hearts and changed lives so we can change the world. For others, it has to do with many other issues. When I say, then, that we're evangelical in the best sense of the word, I should probably say that we're evangelical in the root sense of the word. We're bearers of good news and that's going to be different for different people. It's good news that God loves them. It's good news that forgiveness and grace are readily available to all. It's good news that when we look at the life of Jesus, we see the ushering in of the kingdom of God, which means that the doors are wide open, particularly to those who were on the outskirts of society. Others certainly will have a different take on what that good news is. But I don't think anyone can have the final say on what that good news is. The book of Mark opens his gospel by saying "The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God..." There's a lot that follows, of course. That Jesus is the Son of God, that's a good place to start.

Suburban seduction

One of the things that used to surprise me about Urban Village is the number of people who live in the suburbs who come to worship with us. But when I think about it, someone driving in from Oak Park on a Sunday morning has a much quicker commute than someone taking the train from a North side neighborhood. A family of six has been coming from Elmhurst for the last three months or so and it's been a joy to have them attend. They invited my family to their home last night for dinner and we had a great time.

As we were driving around Elmhurst, it struck me that it had been a long time since I'd been in a suburb. As I looked around at the single-family homes with their Christmas lights and cozy streets, it was easy to be seduced by the desire to move back. We really do enjoy living in the city, but there's also something...I don't know...kind of desirable about going back.

I also know that while we enjoyed living in Highland Park and serving in Deerfield, there are issues with living in suburbia, too. There is no such thing as the perfect place to live. I'll take where we are.

I was reading Colossians 3:1-10 this morning and the phrase "seek the things that are above, where Christ is..." stuck with me. I've been working on being detached lately; that is, seeking God's leading and desires before my own (though I know they sometimes can be the same). I know where the author of Colossians is coming from, but on this day, it also strikes me that before we seek the things that are above, we must first look down below, about manger high.

Closer and closer

My column for the Urban Village eNews today: I was trekking up to Evanston yesterday on the Red Line when I noticed a woman board the train with a child attached to her. At least the child looked like he was attached. He was actually in a sling facing his mother and was fast asleep, which I always find a minor miracle considering loud the train can get around North & Clybourn. Despite the surrounding noise, it was a peaceful scene to behold. Mother and son. Winter wear notwithstanding, they were as close as they could be. I see a lot of images of the baby Jesus in the manger, but not as many of Mary holding Jesus, looking into his eyes, talking baby talk, nursing him. And yet these are the images that captivate me. This closeness between mother and son. I yearn to be ever closer to Jesus. Christmas reminds me that it's possible. If God can make up the gap between divinity and humanity through the birth of this child, surely that means it is always possible for you and I to draw closer, too. This is God's desire for all of us, I think. Like a mother feeling the weight of her son upon her, God desires to feel our weight and nearness. May be it be so this season and into the new year. Merry Christmas from all of us at Urban Village.

Chicago experiences

Chicago Experience of the Day 1

I ate at Lou Mitchell's yesterday for the first time in at least 10 years. LM is an institution in Chicago, located on Jackson, which used to be known as the beginning of Route 66. For some reason, my memory of it wasn't great, but I was pleasantly surprised yesterday. I went for the basics--bacon and eggs--but the service, presentation, and quality were all better than I expected. I even ate the prune that they give everyone. Interestingly, they also had NIV New Testaments at the cash register. I asked about them and the cashier said simply, "Those are from the owner. She goes to Moody." Doesn't hurt to ask.

Chicago Experience of the Day 2

I was walking home down Plymouth and came passed a town home with a sign that said "Candy Cane Lane." Not unusual, but as I went passed, I noticed that there was a tin hanging outside the home's gate with a bunch of candy canes in them. Free candy canes? I took one. My wife wondered if they were really meant for people walking down the sidewalk, but if it seems like an act of hospitality and neighborliness, I'm receiving it.

Growing up and the incarnation

I love my daughter's age right now. Nine. Eight was really good, too. Old enough to start becoming a person with whom I can have "real" conversations and start exploring some cool things in the city. Young enough before the tween and teen years which I can be fraught with issues, but I also sense those issues can be blown out of proportion.

In my sermon last Sunday, I shared about my wife's and my struggle to conceive Caroline and the many, many months and years of failed attempts and doubts. Because of the sermon, I spent a lot of time thinking about her birth day and the awe I felt at holding her in my arms. The connection to my sermon was that I was preaching about the incarnation and that Jesus' birth isn't some fairy tale, but was (and is) "really real." For a long time, the thought of us giving birth seemed like a fairy tale, too, until the day I actually saw and touched her and her eyelashes, fingernails, and slightly crooked ear lobe.

It's been an interesting balance reflecting on the joy of those memories and realizing that she's slowly but surely getting closer to being 10 and becoming friends that we wouldn't necessarily choose for her and desiring things (like an iTouch) that she's not ready for. She's a very centered girl who doesn't seem to get too high or too low by what goes on around her and I think that's a wonderful quality. But harder decisions are in the offing for us. Letting her be friends with girls whose personalities grate on us a bit. Saying no to an iTouch (though that wasn't a hard decision but it brings back memories of being envious of having friends who had things that I coveted).

Growing up and making these decisions is part of incarnation, I suppose. If we claim that this season is one when we praise God for becoming flesh, we also must realize that becoming flesh means growing pains. Thanks be to God for that.

Cafeteria Christians...in a good way

I've been noticing something lately.

I think I've read this somewhere so what I've noticed isn't exactly groundbreaking (and, who knows, may have been happening for centuries), but Urban Village seems to be drawing a few folks who claim their main membership in a church elsewhere (and are perfectly happy there), but come to Urban Village for...something. It might be a small group or a social gathering or our Wicker Park Sunday evening service, but they don't have a problem with feeding their souls in different contexts.

And it isn't just our church. I met a woman a few weeks ago who goes to worship at Moody, but goes to all the Willow Creek social stuff. I don't have deep sociological insights as to why this is, but it's something the church probably should pay attention to. The phrase "cafeteria Christians" is sometimes used in a derogatory way meaning that people pick and choose their theology based only on what they like and because of that they miss pieces in Scripture that they need to hear or pay attention to. I get that, though, of course I think we're all cafeteria Christians in some form or fashion. We all have our own canons, whether we admit it or not.

But I realize when it comes to spiritual formation, I've been a bit of a cafeteria Christian myself over the years. Obviously as the pastor of a church, I haven't jumped around a lot trying different things, but in my previous church, I would attend a weekly weekday Episcopalian service. When I need a retreat, I go to a Benedictine monastery. When I need to sense the mystery of God, I go to a Taize service at a Catholic church. I'm biased, of course, but I think it's important to stay rooted in a community of faith and make commitments there, but I also affirm a person's desire and need to explore the many ways we can experience the Spirit in our midst, whether it's high liturgy or rockin' gospel music.

Judge away

I'm preaching about service and ministry with the poor this Sunday and yet again I am convicted and humbled by the number of passages in the Scriptures that highlight God's preference for those on the outside looking in.

And yet people still want to judge one another based on their stance on issues like homosexuality because of a handful of passages. If you want to judge me or Urban Village Church, judge us on how we're treating the outcast and you'd probably find that we're lacking.

Speaking of homosexuality, though, I appreciated this podcast from Being (formerly Speaking of Faith): http://bit.ly/duDJG6. It's entitled "Restoring Political Civility: An Evangelical View."

Don't Walk

I've struggled with Sabbath-keeping, but the last couple of weeks, I've been better at it. My day off (Sabbath) that I try to guard is Monday and I'm still trying to get a handle on what behaviors I should give up and what behaviors I should take on. Here are the latest guidelines I've set for myself...

Thou shalt not go on Facebook or Twitter.

Thou shalt resist many temptations to use iPhone. I've done pretty well with this lately. I haven't carried it around with me and haven't checked email. I still check it occasionally throughout the day to check to see if I have any voice mails or texts, but I need to wean myself off that, too.

Thou shalt spend some time with your wife. That was easy today. Her birthday was yesterday and we celebrated at our favorite breakfast spot, the Sweet Maple Cafe in Little Italy. Seriously, the best pancakes I've ever had. We also spent some time at the Art Institute which leads me to...

Thou shalt do something beautiful. I don't know why I let my Art Institute membership lapse. It's a mile away from our home and, of course, has one of the greatest collections of beauty in the world. I re-upped last week and we spent 90 minutes there this morning. That's the great thing about being a member there. We can linger.

Thou shalt obey traffic signals. This may seem like an odd one, but it's one I've kept for a while and I like it. On other days, I'm constantly looking for opportunities to jaywalk (cross on a red light). It's pretty much a no-brainer in Chicago (and in most other towns and cities I assume). We're all very busy people, after all. But on Mondays, when the light says, Don't Walk, I don't walk. Even if there aren't any cars for miles around. It reminds me to literally stop and realize that I can stay for a few seconds longer. Nothing will happen any quicker if I try to race across the street.

Willing to give

I was in a bit of a hurry on Tuesday morning and didn't give myself enough time to be in prayer so I tried to meditate on the Green Line. It actually was going quite well. My eyes were closed. I was repeating, "Love the Lord your God with all your strength..." to myself. And then someone tapped me on the shoulder.

"Can I see that?" the woman said. I was holding the book I use for my devotions ("When You Pray," edited by Rueben Job) and the woman asked if she could take a look at it. I said sure and she started flipping through it, commenting on how she needs to pray more. As she was looking at it, I had a strong sense that God wanted me to give the book to her. I also was thinking, "But I really like that book!" You can buy them for $10, but I had a sentimental attachment to it. I decided, though, to go with the nudge from God.

"Would you like to have it?" I asked her. She smiled and graciously said yes. We talked some more. She was to go to court that day and said that this was an answer to prayer. She asked my name. I gave her my card, invited her to church, and she got off at the next stop.

We're spending some time at Urban Village talking about giving, particularly how we can give financially. It's not an easy discussion. It's tempting to hold onto our money pretty closely. But God sometimes nudges us to give something away in order for someone else to draw closer to God. Over the next couple of weeks, pray about what you might be willing to give. God might be nudging you in surprising ways.

A place where people know your name

The article I wrote for our church's e-newsletter yesterday: Quite a few years ago when I was going through the process of being ordained, I attended a conference with other pastors. As I was walking by myself in the lobby, I spotted a person who was pretty powerful in our denomination. He saw me, smiled, and waved, which made me feel pretty good because when you're still a "newbie" pastor, it's not a bad thing when influential people know you and like you. I smiled, waved back and started toward him. He stuck out his hand to me and said, "Hi Sean, how are you?" "I'm fine, I'm fine, thanks," I said through gritted teeth. Sean? Who's Sean? Does he even know me? It was a humbling experience. Trey talked about the power of name in a sermon a few weeks ago. We all like to hear our names said. We like to be known. There were so many people who came to one of our worship services last Sunday. More than 200 people total and many were there for the first time! Praise God! Our hope certainly is that many of you return for worship, but also that you find places where you might begin to be known. Our small groups are a great place to start as are three events coming up: a Taize worship service outing on Nov. 5, our first UVC pot luck on Nov. 7 and a bowling night on Nov. 13. You may not be quite ready to be known by others in our community, but even if you're not, know this: "...thus says the Lord: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine" (Isaiah 43:1." We are known (by name!) by God. Deeply and lovingly. No matter how many people I know in my life, that is what truly gives me peace and joy.

Questions

I've just started a Bible study last night looking at the Old Testament and whenever I begin a group like this, it's almost always the case that someone will bring up the issue of dumb questions.

We've all heard time and again that there's no such thing as a dumb question, but when it comes to God/faith/religion, it seems like people are really nervous about asking questions. Will God strike me down? Will my faith seem illegitimate? People who have grown up in the church seem particularly nervous about this. And yet all of the questions that were asked last night (like, does God change? It seems like God's character changes throughout the Bible. How can this be?) were provocative and have been fodder for wonderful discussion throughout our faith's history.

As well, a cursory look through the Bible shows that not only is questioning God acceptable, it's a given! Most of the figures of the Old Testament, many psalmists, all the prophets and even Jesus (Why have you forsaken me? is one of the most memorable questions of the Scriptures) all questioned God. And they weren't stricken down (though you could probably point out a few--like Zechariah in Luke 1--where their questioning leads to a less-than-positive outcome).

Questioning deepens faith and that includes questioning God and questioning religious leaders. Certainly it's a good thing to come out the other end at some point with an "I believe" statement or two, but I find that good questions usually gets you to stronger belief statements.

Slowly out of the funk

I've been in a bit of a funk the last few days and it mainly stems from "productivity" and "results." We seem to have a big cloud of witnesses who have come to Urban Village at least once. Word seems to be spreading. And yet average worship attendance hasn't increased like we thought. I fret way too much about this and it weighs me down.

So, last night, I did something small. That always seems to help. I was at a neighborhood community meeting (and a contentious one at that--I'd never experienced anything like it) and the room was packed with people who wanted to talk about things like parking spaces and parks. These are the things that can get the community juices flowing. About 45 minutes into the meeting, I noticed an older woman standing and listening. I stood up and offered my chair and she acted as if I'd just awarded her the lottery.

This morning, I was walking through Daley Plaza and a guy was standing on the corner handing out free tastes of Dove chocolate. I stopped by to get one and he told me, "Take a handful." So I did. I had a meeting in the Chicago Temple (First United Methodist) and shared my chocolate largesse with folks who worked in the building, brightening their day. One woman commented, "I really needed this today."

Such small, small things. But it's amazing how service can trump self-pity.

A backpack of faith

I took my daughter to her first day of school yesterday on the subway (which is a far cry from how I went to my first day in 4th grade in Eldora, Iowa!) It was pretty crowded as we squeezed in at the Roosevelt stop. One of the reasons it was crowded was the number of other students who were headed to school and they (like my daughter) all had their backpacks on filled with books and supplies. It became less congested at the Harrison stop because quite a few Jones College Prep students got off there, including one teen who I feared was going to topple over backward, he had so many books in his bag. Most nights I practice a spiritual discipline called the examen, which comes from St. Ignatius Loyola. It's basically a review of the day with God--an intentional time to give thanks and ask forgiveness. An image I find helpful as I go through this process is picturing myself wearing a "backpack of faith" and opening this backpack to show Jesus. It's amazing what I accumulate. Anxiety, fear, selfishness, and unhealthy anger, to name just a few things. All of that weighs me down like the Jones student. But then I imagine Jesus helping me take that stuff out and replacing it with courage, love, and forgiveness. And the load seems a lot lighter. "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light," Jesus says in Matthew. May we take on Jesus' yoke (or backpack) and allow him to take our burdens.