Teaching

I've been asked before which group of students I prefer subbing for, high school or middle school? Reality of the matter is that I like both for different reasons. I can pretty much guarantee a good day of subbing for either age group.

I appreciate high school students, because it can be a little easier to relate to them intellectually. They have begun to form coherent thoughts and opinions about their world, not just parrot the opinions of their parents. The conversations I've had with them are often edifying and challenging. I appreciate their optimism and hopeful attitude. At the same time, high school students can be a challenge. You certainly have to approach them more formally than middle school. Corny jokes while taking roll can often fall flat, with the accompanying eye roll. They can be aloof at first, even suspicious, so it can take some time to break the ice. Usually, with the class goofball doing something that makes everyone laugh. But once that ice is broken, once you show you're willing to listen, once you show them you're not the enemy, high school students are amazing.

Middle school is nobody's favorite time of life. I've yet to meet a person that would love to repeat middle school. It's a time of great transition that can oft be so confusing. Middle schoolers are wise in many ways. I can interact with them and marvel at their insights one moment, then wonder why they thought it was a good idea to kick a volleyball in their friend's face the next. The decision making process isn't quite well developed. They're learning and that's often a bumpy ride. Yet you walk into their classroom and usually they still want your approval. They're willing to laugh at your corny jokes and not roll their eyes. Mostly. If you have a little patience, aren't a stickler for the rules, and show you care, then those are days where my heart is full at the end. In fact, it was one such day that convinced me to go back and get my teaching certificate. Two more years seems like forever, but I think it'll be worth it.

The few times I've subbed for elementary students, it's been man down in fifteen minutes. They're a relentless tide, a horde Genghis Khan would be proud of. They show no mercy. In reality, it's just not my skillset and not nearly as bad as I just described. Yet I admire elementary teachers. As for me, I would love to teach 6th grade geography or find myself teaching AP US History (APUSH). Once they get to that age, they're easier for me to handle. In fact it can be heaven on Earth one moment, one moment, usually broken when Johnny writes on Bobby's forehead with a sharpie. Yet that's the wild ride that it often is with adolescents. Truth be told, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Important Words: Hope

“To want something to happen or be true and think that it could happen or be true.”  That is the definition of the idea of hope, as defined by Webster’s dictionary.  If I were to be a cynic, as sometimes I am, I would define hope as “willfully believing in something that you know will not come to pass.”  The latter is a decidedly a more dreary and pessimistic outlook on life.  Even in the good times, you are just waiting for the hammer to fall.  Happiness, any sense of joy is but a fleeting delusion.  Not the most satisfying definition to be sure.  Yet I think that the former definition, while sunnier, is not satisfying to me either.  I think there is something deeper at work when we hope. 

On one level, Webster’s is very much correct in defining hope.  For instance, when I meet a friend for a beer, I hope that what follows is good conversation.  When I get up in the morning and the Lord sends me on my way, I hope to arrive there safely.  In school, when I neglected to do the reading the night before, I certainly hoped the professor would not call on me to frame our discussion for the day!  As a sports fan, I often hope my team will win.  In the case of the Detroit Lions, that hope is often dashed by the end of the first quarter.  One could also hope for something to go well.  For instance, every day that I take a job as a substitute teacher, I hope to have a great day.  More long term, I hope that I have taken up a position as a youth pastor come this fall, closing an advent season of life.    

Yet there is something deeper at work I think when it comes to the very idea of hope.  While there is merit to the surface level, everyday hopes, and I certainly don’t want to undervalue that.  I have found that hope is one of the key attributes in living the Christian life on a deeper level.  Those others being faith and love, of which we know that love is the greatest, the queen if you will.  Yet that makes faith and hope the treasured daughters.

Those that know me well, know I am proud to have gone to a college called Hope.  I wear my Hope College pride on my sleeve.  The Dean of the Chapel would often remind us students, that Hope was an excellent name for a college.  It taught me that to hope for something is an act of faith.  Hope’s history has reflected that in the last 150 years.  Hope was founded by Dutch immigrants fleeing persecution, looking to educate their children, hoping for a better future for them.  “This is my anchor of Hope for this people in the future” spoke Albertus C. Van Raalte, on the occasion of the founding of the college.  Hope is a deep seated optimism.  It is a trust and a building for the future.  It is why we plan great things from small things, even if we will not live to see them to fruition.  Many decades later, Hope is a thriving, though tiny college in a sleepy little town on Lake Michigan.  It is the 1920’s and the college of around 400 students has outgrown its chapel and needs to build a new one.  Rather than build a modest new structure, able to fit the immediate needs of the college, President Dimnent, had a vision of a massive edifice that would one day be filled to the brim with a standing room only crowd.  What came of this vision was the Neo-Gothic chapel that now graces the well-manicured lawns of the college, seating around 1,200 or more, opening in the depths of economic depression.  This act of faith came at great cost, as it is believed President Dimnent footed a large portion of the bill himself.  History has proven his vision true, for today the chapel rings with the sweet melodies of students gathering in worship, often with a standing room only crowd.  Yet at the time, he had but a vision of hope that he chose to follow in faith, not knowing if he would ever see that vision fulfilled.  I wonder if many locals privately snickered at “Dimnent’s Folly” at the time, practical Dutch folks shaking their heads at such heedless waste over morning coffee at the local diner.

To hope for something is a great act of courage.  Going to the biblical account of Abraham, God called Abraham out of that which he had known, for the foreign and alien.  God called Abraham to move into the land promised for him and his descendants.  Though he would never obtain the promise, he set out in faith and in hope, come what may.  I also think of the story of Moses, whose mother hid him in a basket on the Nile when he was but a babe, hoping beyond hope that he would come to a better end than Pharaoh’s designs.  What about Hannah?  Praying and hoping for a child, that child being Samuel.  What about the woman who had been bleeding for twelve years?  In spite of years of “miracle” cures that turned out to not be so miraculous, she never gave up hope.  Having the nerve to touch the fringe of Jesus’ cloak.  Her faith, born of hope and not a small amount of desperation, made her well.  In each of these stories, courage was present.  It was a courage born out of hope and faith.

Hope is defined by expectation.  Contrary to Webster, hope is not merely wanting a thing to happen, but it is expecting that thing to happen.  I follow the church calendar, something that many Reformed folks do not always observe as closely.  Yet if we do follow the calendar, we note that the New Year for the church begins a month earlier than that of the secular calendar.  The beginning of the church year is marked as a season of reflection and introspection.  It reminds us that just as ancient Israel waited for the coming of Messiah, so too we as Christians wait in expectant hope in the twilight just before the dawn of a new age, when Christ will return.  Advent is a season of longing in hope, knowing that soon it shall come to pass, that restoration and wholeness will be at hand.  Hope reminds us that though we live in an age of hurt and parting, sadness and despair, there is a coming day when wholeness is at hand.

Hope sustains us in that waiting.  It helps us to get out of bed on those mornings that are so bleak it seems like there is no point.  It gives us reason for living, for planning ahead for the future.  I know that personally I have traveled through a wilderness valley of my own.  It has been hope for a brighter future that has kept me walking, even on days in which I just wanted to lay in bed.  My time at a church in Illinois a couple summers ago was a wilderness experience, it was not a happy time.  It was a time of loneliness and despair, though you might not have seen it to look at me.  I came home feeling broken and brought low.  Clinging fiercely to hope, a reminder that I have a purpose, helped to sustain me during that time.  It sustains me now as I am still waiting to find my niche, my place to belong, and I expect that soon to come to pass.

To be absent of hope, is to be impoverished in the soul.  Hope gives us purpose and helps see us through the events of life that are not so enjoyable.  Life lived without hope is one that is without purpose or meaning.  Life lived with hope, gives us an impetus to plan for the future.  To take risks.  To build great things and dare greatly.  To fight for our own little corner of creation, making it better when we leave it than when we found it.  It is a personal and corporate rebellion against the darkness in our world, boldly proclaiming that darkness cannot overcome the light.

I think it is safe to say that we could continue to talk about the merits of hope, and go ever deeper into the well of that subject.  For the Christian, and indeed for the human being, hope is not some flighty idea of fancy.  It is a bedrock value that gives us a purpose and a reason for being.  It is a bulwark against the darkness in our world that heralds the supposed triumph of the night.  It is that fringe of light in the morning twilight that promises a new dawn.

Way of Nature, Way of Grace

I have decided to revive this long dormant blog.  I probably won't post more than once or twice in a week, yet I have recently felt the need to take this back up again.  I just finished a unit of Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE), in which I was affirmed in several ways, including sharing my thoughts.  This is an outgrowth of that affirmation.  Tonight's post will not be long, for it is merely introductory, a teaser if you will, though some postings may very well be as I share my thoughts and opinions on life.  Feel free to contribute, offer your opinion, criticism, whatever.  I only ask that you be civil and reasoned.

Tonight, I leave this little excerpt from Terrence Malick's movie "The Tree of Life."  It reminds me of Psalm 1, or St. Paul in Galatians talking of the Fruits of the Spirit.  Pointing to one way of living our lives, a way that turns inward, that ultimately destroys us.  Then it points to a still a more excellent way, the way of grace, the way of life.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z28Mi6mUyKo&spfreload=5


What are your thoughts?  How have you seen this lived out?  Feel free to share.


Currently Reading:  "The Return of the Prodigal Son" by Henri Nouwen

The Church is a Business

Last night as I was hanging out with a group of guys from my church, one of them essentially stated that the church was just like the business world.  Pastors are often seen as moving up the corporate ladder of church hierarchy.  They may start out at a little church or as an associate pastor fresh out of seminary, then after a few years move on to a bigger church with more responsibilities and then a still bigger one after that.  The best of them will end up pastoring mega churches with thousands of people.  Essentially pastors are just looking out for themselves and their families, looking to make it big.  Point is, every few years; pastors get “promoted.”  That’s all the church is, a business hawking religious wares.  That makes the pastor a salesman for religion. 

It is a sentiment I’ve heard all too often.  I remember hearing a deacon once say in a consistory meeting that “The church is a business; you have to give the people what they want.”  It absolutely breaks my heart to hear such things.  I know that is not how things are meant to be.  Our congregations should not be concerned with the bottom line like the corporate world is.  Our goal is not to make money.  Our goal is not to get bigger and better.  Our goal is not “to give the people what they want” (if we did that we would never come close to plumbing the depths of the mystery and we would never truly grow).  Our goal is to seek after Christ, making disciples of all nations, bringing hope to a dark and foreboding world that so desperately needs a glimpse of the glory.

I see the local church as a community of people brought together by the Spirit to grow in faith with each other.  I see the church as a place where we can turn to when the chips are down, knowing that we have a place for support, a safe harbor amidst the stormy gale of life.  I see the church as a community of broken people bound together by God’s grace.  I see the church as a community of people that seeks after justice, working little by little to right the wrongs of this world.  A church is an oasis, a tiny reflection of the glory that is to come.  It is a microcosm that serves as the perfect example of the “already, not yet” that the theologians wax so eloquently about. 

Growing up in the church, I have seen some moments that reflect our brokenness.  I have friends that have been greatly hurt by the church and the people in it.  I certainly don’t want to gloss over that, it’s a huge problem.  Too many people get pushed to the margins because they don’t quite fit in or they made some terrible mistake that the church shuns them for. Yet I have also seen moments that serve as a foretaste of the glory that we do not yet see clearly.  I still look back in wonder at some of the mission trips I went on in high school.  The service rendered to others and its deep value was not the only lesson I received.  I got a picture of the people of God, working together to alleviate a little bit of suffering in this world.  I saw the people of God coming together for a purpose, with no concern for the bottom line, trusting that God will provide a way.  I saw the people of God standing defiantly in the face of the darkness of this world; though at the time I was unaware of that very idea.

The reality of the matter is that many do indeed treat the church as a business, concerning themselves only with the bottom line.  It will be one of the things I have to confront in the not too distant future.  To that end, I have been blessed to read Eugene Peterson’s memoir The Pastor in my break times while subbing the last few months.  In Peterson, I have found a good voice to listen to as I prepare to enter into full time pastoral ministry, Lord willing, in the coming months.  I admire Peterson because he set down roots at a church for decades, not leaving when times got rough and greener grass appeared on the other side of the fence.  It was good for me to read that kind of thing.  When I enter into pastoral ministry, I don’t want to be looking ahead and moving every few years, seeking to head up the ladder.  That’s not my ambition, I hope it never is.  Instead, as pastor, I want to see seeds planted in the hearts and minds of the people.  I hope that God then gives me a chance to see those seeds grow.  It would be a boon to me someday, to see an individual I had baptized as a little infant make profession of faith as an adult, confirming their baptism as a mature believer.  I won’t get to see that if my ambition is to climb up the corporate ladder of the Reformed Church.  I won’t stick around long enough to see the seeds that were planted grow into something good and beautiful. 

If all we are concerned about is the bottom line.  If we want butts in the pews and bucks in plate, using that as our yardstick of a good Sunday, we miss the glory.  We miss the glory of seeing the Spirit at work.  We miss the glory of lives being changed.  We miss the glory of deep wounds being healed.  We miss the glory of those who were once lost being found.  We miss the glory of the light and continue to fumble around in darkness.  Our faith then becomes but a lifeless shell, that is easily cast off as if were mere chaff.  We cannot reduce the church to a business model.  There is too much at stake for us to be so foolish as to do so.

Place

“Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.”

-Jeremiah 29:4-7 (NRSV)

            The little patch of earth tucked between Holland Lake and Holland Lake Golf Course is where I resided for the first eighteen years of my life.  It is there where I have many memories, both good and bad.  In the strip of land astride M-66 from Anderson’s Orchard in the north to Klinker Corner in the south I lived the balance of my first eighteen years of life.  These were places in which the foundation of who I am was laid, where I was initially shaped and formed.  As a child, it for the most part defined my world, yet occasional trips to exotic locales such as Ionia or Muskegon hinted at a larger world than what my eyes could see.  Though I have not lived there in well nigh a decade, I will always hold it in my heart. 

One aspect of my identity and personal journey that it taught me was the importance of place.  Where we live and reside shapes and forms us in ways we may not be aware of in the moment.  I am sure that my close to nine years living in Holland has shaped me in ways that I do not presently comprehend.  Living in the same house for the first eighteen years of life taught me the importance of setting down roots somewhere and being shaped by where God has put you.  I must admit that Sheridan sometimes seems a foreign land in a way and I do not believe I will return there to live.  Yet living there imprinted on my soul the desire to go and set down roots somewhere, letting those roots grow deep and strong in some plot of soil. 

That plot of soil will most likely be outside of that Promised Land I see Michigan as.  I am loathe to leave this state.  I love its friendly people, the lakes, the culture, the many natural wonders that grace this state, the sunsets over the Lake on a summer’s eve.  It may very well be that I shall soon go into exile, but it’s not a bitter or hopeless exile like it was for the Israelites.  There is a sense of hope in this new beginning that has not yet manifested itself.  Jeremiah was speaking to the Israelites in Babylon.  Jeremiah was also speaking to me I think as well.  If God does indeed call me elsewhere, it is not for me to go into mourning.  Instead, I should seek the welfare of the city or town or village or hamlet that God sends me to.  It is to do kingdom work there and that is hardly exile.

 

The passage reminds us in another way of the importance of place.  As Christians, we need to be invested in the place where we live.  We need to seek after its betterment, for in that way we ourselves are made better.  We are to pray for it and its people.  We should be civically active and seek to better our community.  We should set down deep roots as well, planting gardens (literally and figuratively), and raising our families.   Jeremiah gives some important words for me to remember as I go where I may not initially want to go.  I have a hunch that the next place God sends me will also shape me in ways I cannot yet imagine or understand.  It will be exciting to see where that leads.  I do not yet know where that may be, be it near or far from where I currently live, yet it is fully my intent to go all in, set down roots and become part of the story of the people who reside there and let them enter into my story as well. 

May it be that when God calls me elsewhere, it will be a bittersweet parting.  Bitter in that I leave those I hold close to my heart, sweet in that a new chapter of life will soon begin.  I say this not in a cavalier manner, but it is truly what I intend to do.  

On Identity; Part One

What is your only comfort in life and in death?

That I am not my own, but belong body and soul, in life and in death to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ. Christ has fully paid for all my sins with his precious blood, and has set me free from all the power of the devil. He also watches over me in such a way that not a hair can fall from my head without the will of my Father in heaven; in fact, all things must work together for my salvation. Because I belong to him, Christ, by his Holy Spirit assures me of eternal life and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him.

-Heidelberg Catechism Q&A 1

                I love the Heidelberg Catechism.  In the midst of much searching during my senior year of college, my first encounter with the Heidelberg Catechism is one of the things that brought me into the Reformed tradition of the Christian faith.  It placed me within the framework of a tradition, which up to that time I had lacked.  I was a garden-variety evangelical, not deeply rooted in some plot of soil; rather I was blown about by the latest trends in the evangelical world.  I do not say this to disparage anyone; I only mean to say that I could not point to a specific tradition.  I had no roots, which is something I think should be important to all Christians, not just me. 

                What hooked me into the Reformed tradition were its confessions.  The ecumenical creeds (Apostles’, Nicene, and Athanasian) and the Three Standards of Unity (Heidelberg Catechism, Belgic Confession, and Canons of Dort), have given me an important lens through which to view scripture.  It helps me to see scripture not just through the lens of a 21^st Century American, but to also let those who have gone before me in the faith to have their say as well.  I firmly believe that those of other times and places have something valuable to add as I seek to draw closer to the Triune God of grace.  Along that line of thought, I also have a growing appreciation for the Belhar Confession as well.  Its themes of justice and reconciliation are important words to hear for the Church of today.  Now I know that in some circles I move in, the Belhar is a bit more controversial and I can see where some are coming from.  Yet I can confidently look at Belhar in the same way as the other creeds and confessions.  For the reality for any confession or creed is that its authority rests on the Scriptures.  I think that should be a post for another time however. 

                I would be remiss I think if I did not say something about the question and answer I posted.  Why does it stick out to me?  What does it have to do with identity? 

                Our culture; with its corporate advertisements, social expectations, and preconceived notions of success and the good life, will tell us what our identity is.  If we listen to its siren call, we will find that we will drown in the abyss.  We will not have peace and like Bono, we’ll realize that we still haven’t found what we’re looking for.  The Heidelberg Catechism reminds us that our identity is rooted in Jesus Christ.  Because of that truth, we can have and know peace.  Indeed, without Christ, our hearts will continue to remain restless.  We also know that in an often troubled world, with its many challenges and trials and tribulations, we can rest secure in Christ.  The way of Christ is not an easy one.  Run away from those who would say otherwise.   Yet we know that, come what may, we can face life with courage and perseverance because we are rooted in Christ. 

There are many more things I could say about identity.  The problem is that I have many different streams of thought going, many different angles to look at this subject.  So I may have to work those angles and more posts on this very subject will probably come in the future.  That said, I’d appreciate your thoughts as well.

Greetings

It has been some time since I last tried my hand at blogging, for which I was known as "The Wandering Seminarian."  The purpose of that blog was to chronicle my time in Baldwin, Wisconsin as an intern at First Reformed Church.  Well, over a year has past since my last post, that title no longer applies.  You see, I've graduated seminary and moved on, so I'm not really a wandering seminarian anymore.  Instead another title is necessary.  I grew up a congregationalist and they are the ones that landed at Plymouth Rock in 1620.  I also view this whole Christian life as a journey, we are all pilgrims in way or another.  So partly as a nod to my theological heritage and partly as a recognition that we are indeed walking the pilgrim way as followers of Christ, I figured this title fit.

At this point in the journey of life, I'm looking for a pastoral call.  Lord willing that will come soon.  The last few months have been frustrating when it comes to the whole waiting for God to send me where he plans to send me.  I'm not always the most patient of individuals.  There have been numerous highs and lows.  There have been a couple times where I thought I was close to something only to see it fall through.  Yet I have been blessed to still serve as a volunteer at my church with its youth group.  There has been heartache the last few months, but God has proven ever faithful and provided a balm to my soul in more ways than one.

So what is the purpose of this blog?  There are a few different reasons for posting here.  One of those being theological.  I have not been a student in the formal sense of the word since last May.  I have found in the last few months that the tools that were once quite sharp have dulled somewhat.  So there will be theological reflection, partly as a way of keeping sharp those tools I've acquired over the years.  There will also be a few reflections on life events as well.  Plato told us that the unexamined life is not worth living, so there needs to be some introspection.  Hearing from others may also give clarity to such musings as well.  Finally, there will also be lighthearted posts as well.  If I see something that gives me a good laugh, this may also be an avenue to share it for laughter is a balm to the soul.

Well, for an introductory post this is getting long.  So I figure I'll close this for now.  I plan to post at least once a week.  Hope that this finds you well.