Conferenc(ing)

Over the last few weeks, Methodists have gathered for what we call Annual Conference. Our churches are organized geographically by Conferences, so every year we (laypersons and clergy) convene with the bishop and our episcopal leadership for worship, ordination, polity matters, and the like. Good things happen at Annual Conference.

But today I'm thinking of the early Methodists and how conference was first a verb, then a noun. Christian Conferencing, as they called it, was a means of grace - a channel we could count on for experiencing God and growing in the faith.

Conference now brings to mind an event where we gather to purchase goods (information, etc) from professionals (leadership gurus, pastors) in order to better do our work. And, who wakes up in the morning excited about spending the day in a conference room?

What might it look like to recover conferencing as a verb, as a way of life? Actually, it probably doesn't need recovering at all, as I suspect it is alive and well - tucked away in unlikely places all over the world. Bankers and lumber yard workers, mothers and roofers, CPA's and persons with mental disabilities no doubt gather quietly to listen for the sometimes-not-so-quiet voice of the Holy Spirit in the lives of one another.

When and how will Christian leaders recover conferencing as a stable and predictable means of grace? When and how will doctrine live and breathe in our dialogue and doxology? When and how will we depend on holy conversation like we depend on prayer?

Surely the prototype of all Christian Conferencing is here. And this gives me hope as we strive to gather "all in one place" - pleasantly haunted by the memory of fire laden tongues.

Attempt at a Sober Response to the Death of bin Laden

<Tower of Babel by Pieter Bruegel the Elder, 1563>

On the second Sunday of Easter, we learned Osama bin Laden had been killed by United States Special Forces in Pakistan. Hearing the news, I was at first dismissive - an attitude lacking sobriety and not hard to find in the various print, social media, and comedic responses to this event. The temptation to casually respond preys on our tendency to become isolated from the rest of the world – with which we do not have to deal directly. This is natural, of course, for our plates are full of work and play and bills and so forth. But the possibility and reality of death does not escape us. Navy Seals courageously risked their lives to follow a direct order – one that took the life of the world’s most wanted fugitive. U.S. Armed Forces men and women risk their lives every day to carry out direct orders pertaining to the protection of life and various societies. And civilians lose their lives.

A more sober look at the weekend’s news takes me to the Tower of Babel – where the marvel of human potential was on full display. After all, we have been created “a little lower than the angels” and are capable of great things – still wanting to make a name for ourselves. We see and experience this both in unimaginable evil and remarkable virtue. So we look with humility at judgment and justice, both our own and that of the world’s most powerful. And we grieve, and we pray, and we make room for life.

As Christ’s followers, we stand in the hope of Pentecost. For in that place we remember that the Spirit of God is at work creating the antithesis of Babel – a reality called the Church. Here the gospel of Jesus reconciles us to God and one another across language and culture. Death is overcome by Christ's life, death, and resurrection. And as we turn our attention to this mystery, confusion and “making a name for ourselves” are displaced by worship.

And this is the hope of the world.

narrowing

It's no secret that one of the hardest things about writing and preaching and teaching is the work of narrowing - bringing one thing into focus. Read one Faulkner sentence or listen to one of Bernard's homilies and witness this work at its best.

Plowing through this week's passage or creating a new world via a short story, the author makes decisions about what stays and what goes. The sharpening process tends to be painful, for it usually means rejecting various good ideas/themes in order to focus on one matter. Hence, a shovel is no good for digging a post-hole. To achieve proper depth without disturbing a large area of soil/rock around the post, post-hole diggers fit the bill (or tractor borne augers if you're lucky).

I hope to preach the gospel clearly and well, which requires sound and thorough learning - a willingness to contently dig in one place for a while. I have to remember that there's always next week or next time, so it's ok and even necessary to reject a handful of good things as I prepare. After all, when it comes to writing and teaching through scripture, in the words of Robert Earl Keen, "the road goes on forever and the party never ends."

Last of The Late Nights

So, the kids remain quiet in their room. Amberly made it safely to New Mexico. And now I must continue hashing out tomorrow's sermon. Of course, this won't be the last late night of sermon work. All you seasoned pastors out there can attest to that! However, it will most likely be the last time I stay up late for the sake of a seminary assignment.

I'm a little nostalgic, yes, though the thought of losing sleep and conversation and a million other things for school assignments keeps that to a minimum. Some of these nights have been downright painful. Others have just been annoying. Some the result of procrastination, some the result of unforeseen roadblocks. Many of them though, have been significant experiences in this formational education journey.

Here's to the coffee, lamplight, and patient family. I'm off to try and finish the last one strong. And since only Chad would be able to make sense of my outline tomorrow, a good bit of work remains before this thing takes audible shape.

Morgan Press - November Morning

Thomas van Zandt sings,
"If I had a dollar bill, yes I believe I surely will,
Go to town and drink my fill - early in the morning."

I'm wondering what all of you do early in the morning.

This particular day when i got out of the shower, Morgan had a pile of blocks out in the living room floor. "Hey Dad, do you know why I'm sorting blocks? Because sorting is my favorite thing to do when I wake up in the morning!"

All of you organized people should be proud, as Amberly certainly was today.

Work and Play

(Grandaddy & Athan)

Our time in New Mexico/Texas afforded us opportunities to see family on all sides as well as good friends we count on seeing bi-annually. Everyone was delighted to see Athan, some for the first time, and Morgan had so much fun I think she’s still unwinding.

(Brothers & Papa)

In between 12 & 14 hour workdays I carved out some time for a few special trips. I'm reminded of Lonesome Dove, where work and fun are exemplified in the saga's two main characters: Augustus McCrae and Woodrow F. Call. Call takes jabs at his long time friend Gus for not wanting to work, staying up too late, and for too much 'philosophy.' In turn, Gus accuses Call of disliking fun altogether. At one point in defense of his funward excursions, Captain Gus remarks to Call that he is obligated to keep things balanced. Because of too much hard work on one side, he sees it his duty to have more than his share of fun. It's good for me that among spouse, brothers, and friends this kind of banter goes on! It's humerous, but I really am grateful for those that encourage retreat, rest, and sabbath in all forms. Stealing away to California in honor of Layne's graduation (he's the youngest) was sure a nice retreat. We had a great time catching up and getting punished by the ocean. I also traveled up into the pecos wilderness (near Santa Fe) with my good friend Bailey. We had a great time unplugging for a few days and quieting our souls.

Of course, work and play can't be so simply bifurcated, but it seems good to be mindful of each one's necessity and appropriate portion. Work regularly crosses the play line, and (especially with Strebeck vacations) play often opens the work gate. Rythyms of life I guess...

(New Mexico mountains)

A most significant update from the trip bespeaks our wedding anniversary. Amberly and I have now been at this seven years - wow. It would take a series of blogs - no, books - to express my gratitude for this opportunity. She has loved me well and fleshed out her wedding vows many times over. This is not to mention the mother she has been to our two children...she's the best. With no shortage of babysitters, we celebrated this milestone over supper and coffee a few times. I thought the formal celebration was over, but returned home to a gift that ranks up there in the top one or two. You can see my new coffee grinder below. It's not only groovy and old fashioned but also super functional. I've used it every day since I got it. With coffee from Rob's Roast Inc. and sister Brittany I'm all set for the start of the semester.

I guess that's all for now. I just spent a day with the guys at Abbey of Gethsemane, so I'll try to post about that sometime; a nice day of peace and prayer before the semester gets rolling.

(the grinder - can you say "German steel?")

greek alphabet melody

learning has become a family endeavor...thanks to Morgan-

Rhythms of Rest

Creative ways for the whole family to observe Sabbath can be hard to come by. A big thanks to the mama for the now famous dinner picnic. Morgan couldn't have been any happier - she got to watch Peter Pan while eating a sandwich and a plum! It was fun to watch her...she knew this was a special treat. Athan was also OK with it, for the whole event produced just the right amount of white noise for his post-meal nap.

These days, Sabbath days, are the days we need to remind us what it means to live; to "walk before the Lord in the land of the living." The work week derives its meaning from this set apart rest where we remember that we are children who belong, not gods who 'make things happen.' Of course Sabbath isn't confined to one day (certainly not Sunday for those with pastoral responsibilities!), but it is nice when a day can be set apart.

It's the little things really: hearing others drown out your own voice with songs proclaiming the mystery of the faith, don't-hold-back feasts shared with friends, any amount of activity or silence with children - things that help us slow down and catch glimpses of reality. When I run out of rope as Athan's dad, it is these days that remind me why I hold him and hope rather than look at him and despair.

Sabbath in the park

Sunday Morgan & I cut out for a couple of hours to explore the park scene here in Wilmore. We're all adjusting again to life in the shire (JD's wilmore synonym), and "outside" time simply must be woven into Morgan's schedule! She really likes a little dirt on her face, which must make her feel like she's gotten the good out of the day.


We had a great time getting sweaty and dirty in the Kentucky humidity, then proceeded to Clucker's for some Ale 8 & juice to cool down a little. It's rare with Morgan to spend a few hours with not a lot of words, but that's kind of what we did; we played hard, laughed/screamed, and were quiet for a while. I was really grateful for the chance to spend the sabbath that way...quiet, playful, and waiting.

As I watch Morgan's love for the outdoors grow, I realize how much i miss waking up 50 yards from a tack room and the gate to the horse pasture. I wished today that i could have saddled Biscuit and let her ride around for awhile. The smells and sounds seem all too real and i guess on Morgan's behalf I just missed them today...that's all.

Well, it's off to bed for me. Amberly and I have been trading out on the midnight and six a.m. feedings/meds, and i've been taking the 6 so it's time for some sleep. I've been wanting to get the blog cranked up and never know where to start...so here's a shot.

Athan's Journey

Hey everyone,

You can follow Athan's first few days here.

Love,
Ryan

Hiding

The other day Morgan was building “block-shapes” that all resembled houses (many more than i was able to catch on camera-unfortunately). They were cool, I must admit – made up of “circle” blocks with triangle blocks on top. Naturally, as she made more and more of these house shaped objects, the circle blocks became harder and harder to come by. She sorted through the box and had cleaned most of them out. I even tried to help by piecing 2 semi-circles together to make 1 circle, but she didn’t go for the impostor…only the real “circle” blocks would do. Somewhere in this search she exclaimed, “Where are the circle blocks?! Are they hiding?”

For the expectant and honest child, the blocks simply had to be hiding. She didn’t entertain the option that there were no more, or that she wasn’t looking in the right places…just figured they were “in hiding” (like the old Pearl Jam song I guess).

I immediately thought of this Lenten season and the idea of wilderness…40 days, years. It occurred to me that Morgan was voicing what many of us sense and wonder about God ½ the time. If we were honest, as we scramble and search for God I think we would find ourselves repeating David’s inquiry: “…How long (O Lord) will you hide your face from me?” This is a hard question, a good question, and an honest question…one that Lent provides space to ask. I love questions like this and the fact that our ancestors were named “Israel” (One who wrestles [with God]). It gets us closer to the heart of the journey, and at least for me this time – closer to what’s often going on. Yes, as I reflected on times where Christ seems to be distant I was reminded of another classic story of hide and seek. In the garden it was Adam, not the Father, who gave hiding a shot; and have we ever really stopped?

As we learn anew of the God who does not hide in the clouds but took on flesh and a cross, may the light of Christ shine on us – and may we awake, arise, shuck the fig leaves, and ourselves come out of hiding.

Getting in Shape?

I should be asleep right now, but I'm a little wired from working on a Hebrew quiz (yes, only a seminary student could make a goofy comment like that). A few things:

• It has been a good while since the last post, but that's ok because i signed up for the "blog quarterly" template when this whole thing started. (As opposed to J and company who keep it coming like the news)
  
• Scholarship seems to move faster than life. Like a stomach and good food, or calf muscles and a pick-up game, capacity is reached...add a percentage for growth (sometimes fast, sometimes slow) and that's what you've got. What is a kingdom pace for living...or for learning? I write not because I'm frustrated with "having to read," but rather because my tendency is to shift into high gear with tasks (in this case studying rich texts and treasured resources) and roll the windows up on life.
• I wish i could put into words what an honor it is the parent the little Princess Morgan (more stories to come). Amberly is matchless as a mother, and i enjoy journeying with her through laughter, tears, and wonder while Morgan is growing up. (The shortage of adequate words carries over into the subject of Junior [#2] as well.) I'll be counting on my tribe of homies to help us raise a boy...

That's what I've got for tonight.

Believing in the priesthood...
Ryan

Movement

I'm a few inches closer to school rhythm again, so i guess you could say the semester's second wind is here. I miss the girls for sure, and my love for them grows daily with the 1000 miles between us. It's funny how I notice that increasingly while they are away...it's probably that the realization is hightened in solitude and absence. ?
Amber felt the baby move yesterday! Still only mama can feel it at this stage (we're into the 2nd trimester now), but soon we'll be able to feel and even see the kicking and squirming from the outside. I loved hearing the joy in her voice as she brought me the good news over the phone. There's something about truly good news and the heralds that bring it that causes unmatched anticipation and joy; I have this in mind with the season of Advent nearing. Listen to Mark: "The beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God..." How can I (we) ever prepare for a new baby? A new Kingdom?
Here's to new beginnings and the Word that brings them to life...

off to class...

#2

Amberly had her first official appointment with our midwife today and everything seems to be going well. You can go here (14 weeks) to see what is going on developmentally with our little 3 1/2 inch baby. We got to hear a heartbeat today...that is such a fascinating thing. There are no visible outward signs yet, so when you hear that rapid pulse its like new life is announcing itself loud and clear! To top off an exciting day, some new friends brought dinner over (knowing Amberly has been sick) and we shared a great meal before i went to class. Bryan and Emily just got married about a week ago, and here they were bringing us dinner...it was humbling and we remain grateful. I'm curious why i'm hesitant to receive gifts (and the simple gift of relationship itself) from people i do not know extremely well. We seem to have a tendency to stay at arms length with people for some reason. I know there are some good boundaries and protective instincts...but i also know that something in us resists sharing life with others. Every time we hang out with Adam & Dru we thoroughly enjoy it (and Morgan is especially excited), yet there is this lingering fear at times that we are burdening people. Do we all feel that to an extent? Maybe it's just that i suck at receiving...I mean, can i really enjoy Chad's gumbo and Meredith's hospitality if i can't simply be grateful? When McCrary offers me renewed friendship and i miss the point, or Fatty initiates a great conversation only for it to drop on my end...are there roots here in failure to "lean?" The list goes on and moves into the walls of my house as i miss the weight of my brother's words, Amber's thoughtful question, or Morgan's "hold you Dada?" I guess it all goes back to being present...truly present...to the Father and to others. Here we learn to listen and receive well, just as we surely learn how to give and to speak. Thanks to all of you who will not let us live alone...but love Christ enough to bring new wine, even where the (my) wineskins haven't been changed in a while.

Church as Polis

Sometimes we figure the way to “change” things is to engage an existing culture (like America), adopt all of its particularities and structures and just hope we can sprinkle a little God (as if He were a consumable good) here and there. This happens as we try to “get our people in office” or superimpose something like the 10 commandments on people who don’t have the context to understand them. Another thing we might do is insulate ourselves from the “evils” of culture and end up building fences to keep things out in the name of holiness. I’ve participated in both of these erring worldviews. The kingdom of God is not passive or content to be relegated to an invocation at the super bowl. Rather, the kingdom of God involves an alternative (if you will) way of living and dying. Rodney Clapp and others have described this as the church being “culture-forming.” This alternative way is nothing fancy or a series of formulas, but a simple liturgy of worship, meals, Scripture, and baptism. Participating in this way of life truly creates something solid that people can see, touch, wonder about, and join in.

One way we are seeking to do this as a seminary by common readings. Each day, everyone has a chance to steep in the same passage of Scripture and ancient reading. This is one way we can move forward as a life-giving community. The reader is online as of today for this particular season, so anyone is welcome to share in this time!


You can find the Asbury Reader here.

Adios-

beans for the bachelor

The girls are back home for a few days with all of the family. I got a few pictures from my mom of Morgan...I sure miss listening to her throughout the day. It's funny the other things i miss, like watching her walk around carrying cups and pitchers from the kitchen or hearing the "crunch, crunch" of the latest item that she pirated from the (in a prior day unreachable) table.



Fernando Ortega was a guest at the seminary today as a part of Kingdom Conference (which began today). He played in chapel this morning as well as in a concert this evening. He has written many songs and has something like 14 albums out. He told us this evening that he was from New Mexico...turns out his family farmed in the Las Vegas area. Nice to hear some stories from the "homeland." (this tribute pic is for you, Fatty.)



It's time for me to read a little more now...adios

It's only fitting...

In this world of blogging (that i had not previously entered), it seems hard to know where to start. I always feel this way with a new journal too. Am I waiting for the "perfect day" to blog about or the perfect setting? Anyways...

I chose today's story to begin my blog because it's funny, you'll appreciate it, and because i had a little time. It's only fitting that my 1st blog involves coffee and Morgan...2 of my great loves, right? As Amberly & i were drinking coffee and sharing the morning together, Morgan began to participate in our conversation (she does this in all sorts of creative ways!) by climbing up on the couch with us and on us while reaching for our coffee cups. We, being the proactive parents that we are, thought "we'll just let her try some and after tasting she won't want it any more." We decided against Amber's cup because she puts sugar and cream in hers and we figured it wouldn't be as "nasty" as mine (black.) After my cup had cooled for a moment longer, we let the trial begin. She grabbed the cup in anticipation, took a sip, then another, then..."ooooh, I like this Dada" was written all over her face! I even caught some "after evidence" on camera.



So...so much for the "let her taste it to keep her away from it" theory. I guess this means Morgan and I will be all set for conversations over coffee when she's older.