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)

  

Savoring Advent, Saving Christmas

As the calendar turns to December, the church begins a new year. No doubt there are many interesting traditions and practices you do as part of your Christmas preparations. We unpack memories with our cherished decorations. Certain events, particular moments, come into view each and every year at this special time.  Some may be joyous; others are sorrows. This may be a year without: a loved one, a particular tradition, a particular preparation.

One tradition I cherish is our family nativity set on the fireplace mantel. Since Christmas, 1999, this particular Wal-Mart purchased, Chinese manufactured collection of ceramic figurines has warmed our hearts through the years. If you were to visit our home on Prairie Avenue, you would find the backdrop already set up, with our lone shepherd and a small sheep wandering outside of it.

No Mary. No Joseph. No tiny Jesus. No wise men and their camel entourage. Just a shepherd and his lone sheep.

Are these parts missing?  No. It is because their parts of the story have not arrived yet. The season is Advent, preparing, not Christmas. I do not know about you, but a month of preparation still catches me a bit unprepared to receive this timeless story in its fullness. God with us. God dwelling not in heaven, but here, on earth, the son of a teenage mother and his perceived older father.

We receive our two versions of the story from two gospels, Matthew & Luke. Both stories are usually conflated into one singular story, although the differences between each are striking. Each story has its own influences, its own persuasive power. They are not news reports; they are arguments that state the true son of God (and it’s not the Roman Emperor) came to peasants and among the poor.

A birth happens on one day most of the time. It seems odd to celebrate it an entire month, with every element of the story standing faithfully as part of the decorations. Yet, the story begins as a journey. A journey to Bethlehem.

Mary and Joseph will not be in our nativity until December 24. Oh, they are traveling through the house, mind you; spotted on a random shelf or piece of furniture. The wise men are traveling too; their gifts and their animals spotted in other places throughout the house.  The figurine of baby Jesus will be placed in the nativity on December 25, the celebrated birthday. Our wise men figurines will arrive on January 6, twelve days after Christmas, beginning the season of Epiphany.

This year, try not to rush right into Christmas. Spend a little time with Advent, preparing the way. Advent is not to be like Lent; it is a season of hope, joy, expectation. If you are tired of Christmas by the time it arrives, then you have not practiced Advent properly.  Choose to practice a little hope, joy, and expectation this Advent season. Christmas will come.

AHA Days

It has been a while since I have last reported on life and living through my blog. One habit that has not changed since my heart attack is my ability to procrastinate! "New" normal has become, well, rather normal around here. Eating habits leaning heavily towards fruits and vegetables, check. Taking medications each day, check. Slowly adding more exercise into routine, check. Keeping weight off, check.

I call my days anymore AHA days, since it is After Heart Attack Days. Nothing shakes your perspective, emotions, behavior like a life-threatening event. Mortality is no longer an idea or concept; it is a part of my world. Shock and fear has eased in nearly four months since my own day of infamy.

Other than a daily regimen of medications, life seems remarkably unchanged. I feel like nothing really happened, and I have to remind myself that just because my mind still thinks it can do everything like it was July 14, I have to live in a post July 15 world.

The face in the mirror looks unchanged from the harrowing experience. My body, other than easily bruised, looks healthy, even thinner. I see my doctor next month, a 6 month check-up with a cardiologist in January. Yet, imposed boundaries are necessary to keep body and soul together. Fortunately I have a host of friends and families that ask early and often, "Should you be doing that?"

My boundaries are family, appropriate ministry, and community. In family, it is husband to Amanda, father to Patrick, son and brother to Mom, Nathan & Brian. By appropriate ministry, it is reasonable goals and objectives in assisting the life and ministry of Prairie Avenue Christian Church. There are some things I will not do, and cannot do for others in the life of the church. In community, it is seeking the best for Clokey Park Neighborhood Association. Perhaps it is limitation that I have learned best from this experience. Limitation is not limiting; it is releasing. It is not failure; it is prevention. Knowing there are limits makes you aware of the possibilities within them.

Let my AHA days be filled with possibilities, within the boundaries that make life worth living in its fullness.

One month later...

Perhaps it is objectionable to call it a one month "anniversary," since anniversaries are generally associated with an annual date, rather than a mere thirty days. But it is a milestone I find myself contemplating.

Thirty days since heart attack. Besides my new medications, and my new constant companion of nitro-glycerin tablets for sudden chest pain, I feel normal. Fewer palpitations, less anxiety attacks, and fewer times I'm reaching towards my neck to take my "pulse." All rather good signs, actually.

There is a check-up on my lungs this week, as well as the Cardiac MRI to disclose next steps in treatment and/or therapy. I have been touched greatly by many acts of compassion and concern over the last four weeks. I have been encouraged by prayers, by cards, and by acts of kindness both great and small. Sometimes you wonder what difference you are making in your daily activities and your causes. I never fully realized or appreciated the larger community of colleagues and friends I have acquired through my life and its adventures!

I even have begun to regain my work duties at Prairie Avenue Christian Church, in small, careful steps.

I do get tired a little more quickly than before. Naps are my friends in the late afternoon. My night owl habits have faded away as I tend to turn in before 10 pm. I'm less insistent and demanding; more grace and forgiveness. I walk a little slower, which means I walk more closely to my wife than before.

Life has changed in so many ways, but thankfully, the good is greater than the bad.

Heart Attack, Part 2

The medications have become a routine, as well as the emphasis on fruits and vegetables with each meal and snack. Recovery seems to be doing well, as I regain energy and start to feel near human again.

As I continue to contemplate my "new normal" as a heart attack survivor, I find myself focusing on the habits and behaviors of my life so far and their implications. Before July 15, I was driving fast and hard, over-committed, and keeping the expectation that I could take it.  Now I know how ridiculous it was to live daily with constant rush to achieve and accomplish.  Our society as a whole does not allow much time for self-review, nor does it allow anything less than accomplishment to be the measure of self-worth. Drive it hard, drive it fast, and win always leads to a hard life and living.

While there is no problem in having goals and trying to achieve them, when achievements are the only measure of worldly success, it does become problematic. Think about how we talk and converse with one another. Most of our conversations revolve around what we "do." We mention our career accomplishments, our social achievements, but rarely do we talk about what we are trying to be. It is generally the fruits of our labor that give us self-worth.

It is especially difficult in my work profession. Pastors tend to be the end all, the be all. Congregations like this, because it tends to allow the congregation to place responsibilities and duties solely upon the pastor, who tends to be workaholic enough to consider it his or her "ministry." While pastors are reminded about self-care, it is rare that it is actually applied. Congregations are a little world reflecting the larger world picture; they want their church to look, feel, and be successful, measured by accomplishments and achievements like their personal life. Ministers/Pastors should remind their congregations that self-worth is not only from accomplishment and achievements; self-worth is measured by one's relationship to God and one another. And sometimes our accomplishments and achievements stand in the way of those relationships.

I find it difficult to return to my former life. It was an unsustainable lifestyle. I am recreating new life around me. A life that is less striving, more discerning. A life that actually takes rest as a measure of health, not a moment of weakness or failure. Measuring life from the perspective of being, not just doing. There will be more "no's" in my future than "yes." There will be more delegating than regulating. I will claim authority, but not be its only author. And all in all, in the end, I will become a better person to all.

Heart Attack, Part 1

Heart Attack. The word probably brings to mind some movie in which a man, clearly over doing it, clutches his chest with a pained face, pauses, and falls to the ground, and in moments, dead. I can't recall a movie involving a woman suffering from a heart attack, even though the number of women dying from cardiovascular disease has been more than men since 1984 (American Heart Association).

Mine was not movie-scripted. It was real. It could have been caught sooner. Thank God it was caught before it was too late. And I am 35 years old. It can happen anytime, any age.

My symptoms were typical, if not immediately identified: pain or pressure in chest, sweating, and a burning sensation above the stomach (hence my initial response of antiacids). But the pain/pressure would not go away.

Some things I did, of course, in hindsight, were really stupid. I mowed the yard in the cool of the morning, even though I did not feel fully up to it. I dropped Patrick off at Amanda's work and drove myself to the emergency room.

It did not take too long to diagnose a significant cardiac event being evident at the hospital. The EKG came back unusual, and I remember feeling relief when the doctor announced, "You are currently having a heart attack." A rush to the cardiac catherization lab followed, and in less than an hour, the persistent pain was gone and I was recovering in an intensive care room. It was only later on Friday evening (July 15) that I was told I would have been dead that evening if I had not brought myself to the hospital. The other news of the day?  There was an older blockage that had happened earlier in my life, never treated.

I know beyond doubt that in my moment of desperate need, I was lifted up and placed safely to recover from this near-tragic experience. I had already changed my habits towards more healthy lifestyle with increased exercise and weight loss (20 pounds since January!). My path had only recently crossed another heart attack victim who described similar symptoms. I had regained individual health insurance after an allergic reaction earlier in the year sent me substantial medical bills. Since my own father died of heart disease at the age of 46, I knew I was highly likely to suffer from a heart condition. I knew when to go seek help and that is what I did. I also had a beyond natural experience of someone yelling my name clearly without being there. There are too many acts and events of intervention prior to my heart attack to simply say "coincidence."

I was released home on Sunday (an excellent day for pastors to be released from hospitals!), and I came home with a cholesterol-lowering medication, a heart-failure recovery medication, a angiotensin-converting enzyme (ACE) inhibitor medication, and an anti-clot medication, plus aspirin. Prior to Friday, I was taking no medications. Now, I will be on some of these medications the rest of my life.

A lot of things have changed since Friday, July 15, 2011. I will probably refer to my life prior to Friday as Before Friday, and my life since as After Friday.

Before Friday, I was an aggressive over-achiever who could not say "no" to any passionate cause or activity. I was over scheduled (who isn't these days?) working on the next event, cause, or activity. I would rather be "busy" than "bored."

After Friday, I realize that I should have said "no" more often, neglected at times what truly was important, and spent too much time on some things that do not really matter as much. I do not have to be "busy" to be successful or effective. I should not feel guilty for slowing down. I know I have "natural" limits and must abide within them from now on. I have more tests and assessments (including treatment of the older blockage) in the near future. Some things must and will wait.

I am thankful for the many hands of prayer, help, and concern expressed and shared during my recent medical "event." It is truly humbling to realize how extensive my life has touched the lives of others. I am glad I am still around to read and listen to each one. God bless you All.