The "Adventing" Season

"So who is adventing this Sunday?" asked one of my congregation members.

For a moment, I had to chuckle. Adventing? Like the season of Advent is now a verb? "So, what did you do today?"  "Oh, I did a few errands and some adventing..."

Now before there is some confusion with a denomination, the Seventh Day Adventists, or something involving them, the question referred to who was the assigned readers for this Sunday's Advent Wreath ceremony.  The four candles in the wreath represent four Sundays until Christmas and carry the title of hope, peace, joy, and love. The center candle is the Christ candle. Advent is a liturgical season of waiting, hoping, expecting. Less somber than the season of Lent (the season prior to Easter), but more serious than Common Time (a terrible title for the time between Pentecost Sunday and Christ the King Sunday), Advent is not just a time to remember the coming of Christ as a babe, but more importantly, the coming of Christ now and in the future.

The meaning of Advent is coming, arriving, or appearing. It is a forward leaning season, even as it turns backward towards Christ's earthly birth. It is best practiced as a season of anticipation. I know I have shared before my tradition of the traveling nativity figurines of the Butterick household. None of the pieces arrive at the same time.  Joseph and Mary arrive on Christmas Eve Day. Baby Jesus arrives Christmas Eve evening. The wise men arrive at the nativity on January 6, the day of Epiphany.

Each Sunday is a moment to recognize what is coming, arriving, or appearing. In the darkest of nights, hope still arrives.  In the midst of wars, fights, and troubles, peace still arrives. In the midst of sadness, joy still arrives. In the midst of hatred, love still arrives. Advent helps remind us that we have not arrived but are arriving.  We are journeying along the paths of becoming, arriving, or appearing.

Beyond Advent Sundays, we may recognize other moments and occasions of coming, arriving, or appearing. Two people coming together into a relationship. Arriving at a new place. Appearing in an unexpected role or accomplishment. Life can easily been seen as an extended train of coming, arriving, or appearing.

So perhaps my congregation member was not incorrect in "adventing" this season. Maybe it is good to think of this time not as a moment to be still (although rest is just as important as action) but rather a time of coming, arriving and appearing. I think we all could call it "adventing."

May your "adventing" season be blessed with moments of coming, arriving, and appearing.

Pacing Intervention

It has been a while since I have placed an update on my cardiovascular situation. To be as simple as possible: stable, but unimproved. My doctor stated that it is still "weak," and recommended a visit to the cardiologist. The cardiologist, in turn, recommended further intervention via an ICD, or an Implantable Cardioverter Defibrillator. With my weakened, post-heart attack heart, I am more likely to develop sudden cardiac arrest or a sudden rapid heart beat or arrhythmia. Either would likely result in death.

Needless to say, faced with additional intervention or death, I chose invention. An ICD was placed on my left side, just next to my arm. Leads were extended via an artery to my left, damaged side of my heart. It does have pacemaking capabilities, but is basically on stand-by until either situation actually develops. Apparently my heart attack's location is really close to the area where the electrical charge is generated, hence the greater risk of an unexpected electrical fault.

I know it is there, and ready to respond, which has brought some peace of mind. But like many survivors, I still have anxious moments whenever "something" feels funny in the chest. I can be thankful that such technology is now available, making life-threatening conditions treatable and manageable. It is truly amazing that my heart, though enlarged as a result of injury, continues to function as best as it can. I am still making the changes necessary for best outcomes, and hope that this "new" normal is part of my life for a long time.

For more information about ICD: http://www.nhlbi.nih.gov/health/health-topics/topics/icd/

Marriage takes more than buying Chicken Sandwiches...

There has been a lot of attention on chicken sandwiches and marriages. More importantly, owners of a large chicken franchise that utilizes its profits to support political causes they desire to support and whose views they endorse. It seems to have come to a shock to some that your money may be used to support causes or views which you may not endorse. Call it the law of unintended consequences, but Dollar Almighty does have a way of going in directions many would like for it not to go.

My question? How many marriages have a chicken sandwich purchase saved?

It is truly ironic in the fullest sense when the leading group with divorces (Evangelical conservative "Christians"), is full of defense and bluster about defending the "sanctity of marriage."  Something Jesus said comes to mind... something about specks and logs... I can't remember...

Another question. If marriage needs to be "protected," why have I not heard a word about a statewide divorce ban?  Many divorces are filed as "no-fault." Should it not be made more difficult to walk out of such a serious commitment?

Please do not misunderstand me. People who are in destructive relationships and are in life-threatening circumstances should not be required to remain with a destructive or dangerous person. Domestic violence is real, and should never tolerated.

A larger issue than marriage is here. I would call it "bumper sticker" causes. "We Support Our Troops." "I love my country, but do not trust my government." And the list could continue. You encounter them literally on the road, in windows. It is usually a pointed one-liner that puts in stark terms a complex issue into a simple punch line.

It is easy to put a sticker espousing patriotism on a personal car. It is more difficult to visit a Veterans Administration Hospital to see the actual victims of foreign policy and international war. And unfortunately there is a pattern of overwhelmed, understaffed, and underfunded treatment of returning "heroes" throughout the VA system.

It is easy to show up at a popular fast food place to stand for "marriage." It is more difficult to sustain a long term relationship with someone who is unwilling to keep it.

Our society and culture loves a quick and easy fix. Our world thrives on get it now, get it quick, get it done solutions. The problem with this get-it-quick solutions is that they rarely satisfy in the long term. Besides, if the problem was truly simple, it would be simply solved. My experience with relationships between human beings is that things are always more complicated than they seem. It is easier to forward an e-mail that says you love Jesus, God, country, candidate, but it is more difficult to actually live it.

And that is where I always try to live my beliefs and values. Not on the back of my car. Nor on a shirt sleeve or through my wallet. But from within my heart, informing my life and its work.

There will always be things to get angry about. And anger is not wrong, it's an emotion. But emotions tend to go somewhere. Too many people are angry about the wrong things. A bad referee call, slow restaurant service, long lines. I have noticed in life that those who rarely get bothered by such fleeting events are those fully alive and involved in fighting true injustices in our society and world: hunger, homelessness, addictions.

I hope whatever meaningful relationship you are in, it takes more than buying a chicken sandwich to defend.

After Heart Attack: One Year Later

Today is an odd sort of "anniversary" for me. It is one year since my heart attack. I've written about it before on this blog, so the details can be revisited, if needed. The basics of the story is that I was then a 35 year old who woke up that Friday morning not feeling "right," and ended up having one stent placed in the left side of my heart before sundown on July 15, 2011. I was also told that my quick action and response saved my life.

The last 365 days have been transformative. From no medications to four. From invincibility to mortality. From calm to panic. From shock to acceptance. My family history is riddled with stories of those who have died from heart attack and/or heart disease. These last 365 days have created a strange and new chapter in the family tree: a heart attack survivor.

Let's not go into the odd version of hell that is the US health care insurance industry that seems to willfully punish illness and is unwilling to pay for unexpected or unplanned treatment (like I could plan a heart attack?!). Thankfully, that chapter is also fading away.

As life moves on at its seemingly unstoppable one-day-at-a-time pace, I find myself seeing temptation of running once again fast and hard and as much as possible calling to me. Our "get it quick" and "get it now" society seems hell-bent on its own self destruction, leaving victims in its wake. Thankfully, I at least notice the warning signals of "too much" and find myself stopping before I'm once again do-it-all, be-it-all and on a fast track to another heart issue.

My healthy habits are improving once again, and I am willing to focus on that at the cost of other important (but not life-giving) matters or issues. Medications seem to be keeping things under control, although more healthy lifestyle changes cannot hurt (and perhaps can eliminate some medications altogether at some point).

One year later, it is an odd fraternity to be in as a heart attack survivor. I know many more survivors that I ever expected. I can truly say from experience that every little pain or odd sensation can send a terrifying panic into the mind. Many have said to me that you will never get completely rid of that from your psyche. I also know that much of life is how you embrace living, and if you have reason (or reasons) to live, will power is a powerful counter.

Sure, 2011 was a bit of a setback in my health and life. But it did not take either health or life fully away from me. I live with its consequences now and for the rest of my life. But there is life after life-threatening conditions. It can take one's life, and this past year is also filled with stories in which many loved ones have had that most precious gift taken from their lives and families.

In the midst of death, there is also life. In the midst of darkness, there is also light. Broken, yet whole. Hurt, yet healed.

Happy anniversary to Jason's heart. Let's keep moving together.

Home Again?

Recently, I returned to Christian Theological Seminary for a public seminar. While a majority of my wife's family reside in the Indianapolis metropolitan area, it had been more than a year or two since I had walked down the grey stone hallways decorated with modern art and sculpture, peered up to the bells in Sweeney Chapel, admired the looming pipes of the Holtkamp organ, or gathered in the Shelton auditorium.  In many ways, it appeared unchanged. In other ways, everything had changed.

I suppose it is what to be expected. Time is a relentless scorekeeper. For four years, this spiritual center had been a weekly experience of challenge, comfort, and community. Those years have long been sealed by time. Each experience is now some form of memory. With the years between, unexpected changes have intervened in my life, and I am not exactly the same person I was when I was last striding across the stage of Shelton Auditorium to receive my MDiv degree.

The same is true when it comes to my first college experiences at Millikin University. Construction has certainly intervened to physically change the appearance of campus and even department locations. Where my car nearly always parked is now where the Leighty-Tabor Science Center now stands. With the current capital campaign, the Richards-Treat University Center, like Mueller Hall and the homes on West William Street, will be just a memory in my Millikin memories.  I can stand in Staley Library, sit at my favorite study table, and yet marvel at the road my first alma mater and one of her son's has traveled since we met in the recent past.

Perhaps your childhood home is no longer where your parents live. Driving by it today, it seems like a distant part of your story. Or a favorite park, or store, or a popular festival or event. Traveling home again, you realize that home is not exactly what it used to be. Like a stage play, the scenery is changed for the next chapter, the next scene. Each moment is never fully captured, but slips often too quickly from our grasp and control. No amount of money or education can make time stop. It moves, irregardless of wealth or poverty, doctorates or drop-outs. While it is easy to form judgments, whether some place was "good" or some event "bad", time seems to allow each to happen in its own time and its own place.

I used to chuckle when I heard the phrase, "You can't go home again." Naively I believed time is a bit slower in the midwest. Now I believe it runs the same speed, but its consequences may be slower to comprehend fully.  On some level, yes I can go back to 248 E Franklin. The physical location has not changed. But my relationship between my childhood room and my adult life has changed.

The same is true about high school, college, and graduate school. Each is still physically in the same location as they were when my life traveled with them. But each now has a different relationship to my life now than then. Some educators, some instructors, some professors have moved away. Some still remain, a spot of familiarity in a place that has become less familiar.

These places in our lives, our career paths, our experiences, remain with us. Each is in some way a loving parent, each has given us some part of our current life.  But like our parents, they also change, and our relationship to them evolves. We will always be children of the institutions who were formative in who we have become. Yet we cannot remain children forever. Home again? Yes and no. As a stepping stone, yes. As an unchanging shelter, probably not.

Nearing A Crossroads in Clokey Park

On July 31, 2007 nearly thirty neighbors gathered in the grassy expanse of Clokey Park to discuss forming a neighborhood organization. A mix of hope and despair mingled in the breeze as some remembered earlier times, others discussing recent incidents of crime, vandalism, and more impatiently the apathy expressed among most of the neighborhood to become involved in activities that might help the Clokey Park neighborhood become a better neighborhood.

This July, I approach my five year anniversary as "organizing" president of the Clokey Park Neighborhood Association. At times it seems only yesterday I was contacting University of Illinois Extension to place the organization on the Adopt-A-Street program. Other times seem more like I have "organizing" for many, many years.

Yet in five years time, Clokey Park neighborhood and its still-young neighborhood organization has witnessed both the positive and the challenging (I refuse to say negative, since that would imply defeat) events and activities that many historic inner-city neighborhoods across the Midwest have experienced. Some events and activities experienced by Clokey Park have been fully out of its control; economic times, employment conditions, education issues.

Nearby redevelopment is happening. The most visible changes are the Pines Shopping Center redevelopment and street scape work on East Eldorado Street. Less visible to the neighborhood, but will indirectly impact it is the redevelopment of downtown Decatur and Nelson Park. Development money, whether public or private, chases development money. With a new shopping center, other developers will want a piece of redevelopment nearby. With a redeveloped regional park, people interested in being close to park amenities will take a second look at property near a dog park, beach, and recreational trails and facilities.

Rather murky is the situation involving the former Roach School property. Our shuttered elementary school had become an eyesore by 1999, and the topic of continuous conversation during the first four years of our group. Such a large piece of property cleared within a neighborhood is rare, but challenging redevelopment issues are part of its future.

Since being first platted into streets, alleys, and utilities in the 1870s, Clokey Park neighborhood has benefited from wide sidewalks for people to literally walk to the factories located near the railroads, the brick streets to keep the neighborhood accessible and clean, and utilities to bring clean water, eliminate wastes, heating fuel and electricity. But such services require maintenance and upkeep at all times and much of our infrastructure requires repair and replacement. Much of our infrastructure is still basically sound, making Clokey Park a basically livable and sustainable community. Its fragility is more and more apparent, and a basically livable and sustainable community is not a fully attractive community for citizens to live and thrive. Our reputation is based on the infrastructure we keep. History has its charms, but it also has limitations.

Our historic character has another challenge; desirability. I find it amusing to watch Househunters on HGTV with young couples seeking historic homes of 1500 (or more)square feet with many closets, master bath, a suburban sized lot, but within walking distance of stores and businesses. Hopefully, you recognize the physical impossibilities in such convoluted desires. Most homes in Clokey Park are 1,000 feet or less, have small closets, and small lots. And stairs, lots of them, whether to the front porch/entryway or down to the unfinished basements. A recent positive change is the desire to live closer to one's work. A challenge is suburban lifestyle desires for neighborhoods that have structures built for earlier suburban lifestyles; small, easy to maintain, basic necessities met. The good life can be found in living under 1000 square feet of space, but our oversized, bigger-is-better mentality of living is rarely overcome.

One challenge is finding re-investors to our historic neighborhood. As stated, most of our property, by historic design, is not appealing to current housing trends and desires. Most of the neighborhood was divested by homeowners desiring larger properties in the newer suburbs constructed in the post World War II, automobile as king era. Clokey Park has a nearly 70% rental rate, with most "residents" residing less than 3 years in a given home. The recent economic downturn has forced some to remain in their current locations, but it is not an uncommon sight to see a moving truck in front of a home four times in a year, as renters find other property. Roach school closed in 1983, and with it began the neighborhood disinvestment of its children by being bused to newer school buildings separated from their own neighborhoods. Without a local school as a community center, the neighborhood tends to drift to anonymity. Neighborhood pride declines as neighborhood infrastructure is divested. Why stay when you can move away? Those who could, did.

A positive re-investment project for Clokey Park Neighborhood has been its participation in the annual Miracle Day program. The Miracle Day program, initiated by the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) of Illinois and Wisconsin and organized by Prairie Avenue Christian Church, is a one day service program targeting the remaining homeowners, many whom are limited in income to maintain historic homes and their aging infrastructure of porches, gutters, etc. Over thirty homeowners have benefited from new paint, repairs, and maintenance projects done on the last Saturday of August. These small beautification efforts tend to ignite interest among neighbors to complete other projects long delayed to enhance their own properties.

Revitalizing pride within the neighborhood is key. Pride takes ownership in community. Rather than focusing on what has been lost, one should honestly see what is yet to be and take pride in being part of the community. Clokey

In five years, much has happened in Clokey Park. City officials and officers are a phone call away, and actively inquiring about possible projects and programs to help the neighborhood. Park district officials have interviewed us about needs and issues involving their property within our boundaries. In many ways, we have gained ourselves a place at the table of many groups who are seeking to assist and help this neighborhood change from surviving to thriving. But thriving will take time.

At this crossroads moment, I firmly believe the possibilities outweigh our liabilities. Challenges many. Opportunities, many more. The seeds are being planted around us. What seeds will we plant within us?

Know-It-All's & Doubters Welcome

  One of the earliest nicknames I earned was from my younger sibling, Nathan. A little bit more than two years younger, he declared me, “Mister Know-It-All.” I did have an easy time with academics, while my brother struggled a bit more in his studies. I am not sure when I first heard Mister Know-It-All from him, but I can probably recall parts of the occasion. It was probably while I was reading several entries in our World Book Encyclopedia set. This was when they actually printed encyclopedias.

  To this day, my brother still seeks my insatiable ability to search and find information. He knows that if he calls and asks a question that I do not know immediately the answer, I will hunt it down like some safari leader until I have the information that prior to his question, I knew little or nothing about. My Mister Know-It-All status was probably a title of derision from my envious brother, but I proudly wear the title to this day.

  As we enter the season of Easter, we come as people who do know-it-all. We knew Jesus was going to die. We knew Jesus was going to be resurrected. We knew the women would be the first eyewitnesses. We knew, just as we knew when the movie Titanic was released, that the end would have the ship sinking. That is the gift of the past; it is already happened.  Later this season (and Easter is a 50 day season for the church, not one Easter Bunny laden Sunday), we will encounter the apostle Thomas, the one with the title “doubting.”

  Sometimes our know-it-all status has consequences. We can be totally confident in our finesse of a given subject, that “everyone knows that” and find ourselves totally condescending when someone does not know even the basics of the story. Sometimes our head knowledge starves our heart knowledge, and we present the gospel as a “I read it, I believe it, that settles it” among those who have not read, may not believe, and are certainly unsettled about it.  Some know-it-all church members can be intolerant of the doubters in their midst.

  Some churches are know-it-all churches. They know exactly what every verse in the Bible meant and their interpretation is the correct interpretation. Questions are not tolerated, because, in their minds, doubting is next to the slippery slope of believing whatever you wish to believe.

   Some churches are doubting churches. They are venues where questions are acceptable, people are allowed to utilize their thoughts and experiences, and joining in the journey with God and neighbor is part of its life and practice. While certain practices are kept, these very practices are explained to all who seek to know. Why do we celebrate the Lord’s Supper every Sunday? Why do we have an office of deacons? The last thing a community of faith like this would say is “because I said so.”

  Both types of churches seem to grow in our postmodern world. You can see know-it-all churches on the local religious channel. It might be more difficult to find a “doubting” church, but I assure you, they also exist and are thriving.

  As Jesus accepted Thomas’ demand for more, so Jesus extends to all “doubters.” Know-it-alls and doubters are welcome together each Sunday. Come and seek the answers to those things you doubt. Come and learn again the stories you think you know-it-all. You may be surprised how little you actually know.  As a movement of wholeness in a broken world, one of our foundational philosophies of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) is Faith seeking understanding. Bring your mind and your heart. God needs both for the effort.

Be-laboring to become

  Each Sunday I get the best place in the room for music. As the Clavinova begins to play, I get to stand in front of our loyal group of singers for the Sunday anthem. Together, we craft a beautiful offering to God in song. I am always amazed at the ability of our small group to sing together, harmonize, and lift up the spirit of the congregation. It is a privilege to conduct such a great group of singers.

  It is also God’s joke on me that I am their conductor. When I was a student at Millikin University, there was one class I really could care less about;  conducting. It was a required semester class for Commercial Music majors, where basic conducting of ensembles and groups would be covered. There was even videotaping involved; another reason I did not like the class. I never like to watch myself on videotape, whether conducting or, later, for preaching class.

  Sitting as a junior in my conducting class, I would literally go through the motions of basic conducting. “Why,” I would ask myself, “do I really need this class? I have no intention of being any kind of conductor; just give me a piano and a group to play with, let someone else do the conducting.”  But with baton in hand, I would move my wrist to prepare for the ictus (the down beat) of the short score in front of me. My video tape production would be critiqued (and I remember being told that I did not count time clearly and needed a bit more stiffness in my wrist action); I was not planning nor desiring to be an Arturo Toscanini, a famous Italian orchestra conductor,  and was grateful when the semester ended.

  As far as I was concerned, the distance between me and a conductor’s baton could continue as far as east is from west. When the class concluded, my conducting career also ended.  Or so I thought.

  Perhaps you have had the same experience. You go through the motions to get through, gain enough skill or talent, then think you have finished your work, never anticipating that one day the toil will become not just labor of work, but a labor of love. God is much better at anticipating our future needs than we can possibly imagine. Each act of work that is barely tolerated may become something more than we realize. Today’s dreaded task may become tomorrow’s favorite hobby.

  Lent is a special time to reconsider our labor for God and how God labors through us, the hands and feet of the Good news for all people. God may nudge us towards work that five years or even five months ago we would never consider ourselves qualified. Or are we just going through the motions, hoping the class or task will end, never to be repeated? You never really know how prepared you really are for the work God has you to do until you start to do it.

  So now I stand in front of seven gifted persons each week and flail my arms to patterns I thought I had long ago forgotten. Sometimes they even pay attention. Sometimes I notice I am counting 3/4 time in 4/4 measures. And in that moment, I forget how much I really disliked conducting class.

  Sometimes God calls us to do things we could never imagine ourselves ever doing. When God does call you, I hope you will pay attention in class. You never know when your least favorite class becomes your greatest subject.

  Soli Deo Gloria (To God alone be glory)